The Portable Roman Reader (Portable Library) (73 page)

BOOK: The Portable Roman Reader (Portable Library)
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And she, receiving the urn with great joy, ran back quickly that she might deliver it to Venus, and yet again satisfied not the angry goddess. “My child!” she said, “in this one thing further must thou serve me. Take now this tiny casket, and get thee down even unto hell, and deliver it to Proserpine. Tell her that Venus would have of her beauty so much at least as may suffice for but one day’s use, that beauty she possessed erewhile being forworn and spoiled, through her tendance upon the sick-bed of her son; and be not slow in returning.”
And Psyche perceived there the last ebbing of her fortune—that she was now thrust openly upon death, who must go down, of her own motion, to Hades and the Shades. And straightway she climbed to the top of an exceeding high tower, thinking within herself, “I will cast myself down thence: so shall I descend most quickly into the kingdom of the dead.” And the tower again broke forth into speech: “Wretched Maid! Wretched Maid! Wilt thou destroy thyself? If the breath quit thy body, then wilt thou indeed go down into Hades, but by no means return hither. Listen to me. Among the pathless wilds not far from this place lies a certain mountain, and therein one of hell’s vent-holes. Through the breach a rough way lies open, following which thou wilt come, by straight course, to the castle of Orcus. And thou must not go empty-handed. Take in each hand a morsel of barley-bread, soaked in hydromel; and in thy mouth two pieces of money. And when thou shalt be now well onward in the way of death, then wilt thou overtake a lame ass laden with wood, and a lame driver, who will pray thee reach him certain cords to fasten the burden which is falling from the ass; but be thou cautious to pass on in silence. And soon as thou comest to the river of the dead, Charon, in that crazy bark he hath, will put thee over upon the further side. There is greed even among the dead; and thou shalt deliver to him, for the ferrying, one of those two pieces of money, in such wise that he take it with his hand from between thy lips. And as thou passest over the stream, a dead old man, rising on the water, will put up to thee his mouldering hands, and pray thee to draw him into the ferry-boat. But beware that thou yield not to unlawful pity.
“When thou shalt be come over, and art upon the causeway, certain aged women, spinning, will cry to thee to lend thy hand to their work; and beware again that thou take no part therein; for this also is the snare of Venus, whereby she would cause thee to cast away one at least of those cakes thou bearest in thy hands. And think not that a slight matter; for the loss of either one of them will be to thee the losing of the light of day. For a watch-dog exceeding fierce lies ever before the threshold of that lonely house of Proserpine. Close his mouth with one of thy cakes; so shalt thou pass by him, and enter straightway into the presence of Proserpine herself. Then, do thou deliver thy message, and taking what she shall give thee, return back again; offering to the watch-dog the other cake, and to the ferryman that other piece of money thou hast in thy mouth. After this manner mayst thou return again beneath the stars. But withal, I charge thee, think not to look into, nor open, the casket thou bearest, with that treasure of the beauty of the divine countenance hidden therein.”
So spake the stones of the tower; and Psyche delayed not, but proceeding diligently after the manner enjoined, entered into the house of Proserpine, at whose feet she sat down humbly, and would neither the delicate couch nor that divine food which the goddess offered her, but did straightway the business of Venus. And Proserpine filled the casket secretly, and shut the lid, and delivered it to Psyche, who fled therewith from Hades with new strength. But coming back into the light of day, even as she hasted now to the ending of her service, she was seized by a rash curiosity. “Lo! now,” she said within herself, “my simpleness! who bearing in my hands the divine loveliness, heed not to touch myself with a particle at least therefrom, that I may please the more by the fervor of it, my fair one, my beloved!” Even as she spoke, she lifted the lid; and behold! within, neither beauty, nor anything beside, save sleep only, the sleep of the dead, which took hold upon her, filling all her members with its drowsy vapour, so that she lay down in the way and moved not, as in the slumber of death.
And Cupid, being healed of his wound, because he would endure no longer the absence of her he loved, gliding through the narrow window of the chamber wherein he was holden, his pinions being now repaired by a little rest, fled forth swiftly upon them, and coming to the place where Psyche was, shook that sleep away from her, and set him in his prison again, awakening her with the innocent point of his arrow. “Lo! thine old error again,” he said, “which had like once more to have destroyed thee! But do thou now what is lacking of the command of my mother: the rest shall be my care.” With these words, the lover rose upon the air; and being consumed inwardly with the greatness of his love, penetrated with vehement wing into the highest place of heaven, to lay his cause before the father of the gods. And the father of gods took his hand in his, and kissed his face, and said to him, “At no time, my son, hast thou regarded me with due honour. Often hast thou vexed my bosom, wherein lies the disposition of the stars, with those busy darts of thine. Nevertheless, because thou hast grown up between these mine hands, I will accomplish thy desire.” And straightway he bade Mercury to call the gods together; and, the council-chamber being filled, sitting upon a high throne, “Ye gods,” he said, “all ye whose names are in the white book of the Muses, ye know yonder lad. It seems good to me that his youthful heats should by some means be restrained. And that all occasion may be taken from him, I would even confine him in the bonds of marriage. He has chosen and embraced a mortal maiden. Let him have fruit of her love, and possess her for ever.”
And thereupon he bade Mercury produce Psyche in heaven; and holding out to her his ambrosial cup, “Take it,” he said, “and live for ever; nor shall Cupid ever depart from thee.” And the gods sat down together to the marriage-feast. On the first couch lay the bridegroom, and Psyche in his bosom. His rustic serving-boy bare the wine to Jupiter; and Bacchus to the rest. The Seasons crimsoned all things with their roses. Apollo sang to the lyre, while a little Pan prattled on his reeds, and Venus danced very sweetly to the soft music. Thus, with due rites, did Psyche pass into the power of Cupid; and from them was born the daughter whom men call Voluptas.
Book IV. Chapter 28, through Book VI, Chapter 24
ANONYMOUS
The Vigil of Venus
Translated by F. L. Lucas
 
Loveless hearts shall love tomorrow, hearts that have loved shall love anew.
Spring is young now, spring is singing, in the spring the world first grew;
In the spring the birds are wedded, in the springtime true hearts pair,
Under the rain of her lover’s kisses loose the forest flings her hair.
Now in shadows of the woodland She that binds all true loves’ vows,
She shall build them bowers tomorrow of Her own green myrtle-boughs.
There Dione high enthronéd on her lovers lays her law—
Loveless hearts shall love tomorrow, hearts that have loved shall love once more.
She it is that paints the springtide, flower-bejewelled, purple-drest,
She that swells the young bud’s bosom with low whispers from the west,
Till it breaks in balmy blossom; She that in the wake of night,
O‘er the fields where darkness flung them, spreads the dewdrops’ liquid light.
See how, trembling, all but falling, each one glitters like a tear!
Yet they fall not—in its station clings so fast each tiny sphere.
See, the Rose comes forth in crimson, shows her blush of maiden shame!
Dew that through the windless midnight from the starry Heavens came,
Bathes tomorrow morn her bosom, strips its mantle dank and green;
Venus bids at morn tomorrow wed shall every Rose be seen.
Child of kisses Love hath given, born of blood the Cyprian shed,
Bred of gem’s and flame’s refulgence, of the sun’s own crimson bred,
Then the Rose shall rend the splendour of the bridal veil she wore
And her life’s one wedlock show her flushed with the beauty no man saw.
Loveless hearts shall love tomorrow, hearts that have loved shall love once more.
Now Her nymphs Love’s Lady biddeth muster where Her myrtles sway;
There’s a boy shall be their playmate—“Yet can Love keep holiday?
Can Love play among Her maidens, if his hand still holds the bow?“
“Maidens, fear not. Love comes maying. Weapon-less he comes, your foe.
He is bidden to disarm him, bidden come with limbs laid bare,
Lest his firebrand, or his arrows, or his bow make mischief there.
And yet, maidens, watch and ward ye! Cupid hath a comely hue.
And when Love comes bare and naked, Love wears all his armour too.
Loveless hearts shall love tomorrow, hearts that have loved shall love anew.“
But to thee, 0 Maid of Delos, Venus sends maids chaste as thou,
For this single boon to beg thee—grant through all thy woodlands now
That no wild thing’s blood tomorrow stain the grasses of the glade,
That in peace, o‘er its young blossoms green may glide the westering shade.
She Herself would come to pray thee, might She move thy maiden heart;
She Herself would bid thee join us, were it but a maiden’s part—
Bid thee gaze while we go dancing through our three nights’ revelry,
Dance with multitudes about us down the glens that honour thee,
Dance amid a rain of garlands down the lanes of myrtle-bowers,
With us Ceres, with us Bacchus—yea, the Lord of Song is ours.
Up now, wake the dark with revel, sing aloud the long night through!
Bow, ye forests, to Dione! Thou, Diana, shun our view!
Loveless hearts shall love tomorrow, hearts that have loved shall love anew.
Lo, Love’s Lady comes to judgment. At Her side the Graces meet.
Fair with all the flowers of Hybla deck today Her judgment-seat.
Hybla, broadcast fling thy blossoms, all that Spring bears in her hands;
Of thy flowers make thee a mantle, wide as Ætna’s meadowlands.
Nymphs of meadow, nymphs of mountain, hither all are gathering,
Nymphs of coppice and of forest, nymphs that haunt the hidden spring.
She hath bid them all draw hither, She whose womb the wing’d Love bore:
“Maids,” She laughs, “though Love come naked, no more trust him than before.”
Loveless hearts shall love tomorrow, hearts that have loved shall love once more.
For tomorrow is the morning when high Heaven first was wed
And the cycle of the seasons from the clouds of spring was bred.
Soft in showers His love descended on the gentle lap of Earth,
Quickened all Her mighty body, brought all living things to birth.
But the Sea’s far-circling surges, quickened by far other rain,
Red with blood that streamed from heaven, where sea-horses shook their mane
And the blue sea-monsters gambolled, tossed Dione from the foam—
Her the Mother, Her the Mighty, Her whose spirit hath its home
In the inmost mind of all things, in the blood Her power sways
While through earth, through sea, through heaven onward wind Her hidden ways.
That day first the paths She fashioned for life’s seed the wide world o‘er,
All the roads of birth revealing, procreation’s mystic lore.
Loveless hearts shall love tomorrow, hearts that have loved shall love once more.
She it was that brought Her Trojans hither to the Latin land,
She that gave Her son Æneas the Laurentine maiden’s hand,
Gave to Mars that other maiden, virgin guard of Vesta’s fire,
Gave the daughters of the Sabine to the Roman youths’ desire.
So sprang Ramnes and Quirites; so at last She raised to reign
Both our Cæsars, sire and nephew, lest the race of Rome should wane.
BOOK: The Portable Roman Reader (Portable Library)
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