God of Love, there fast asleep; at sight of whom, the joyous
flame of the lamp shone with redoubled vigor, and the sacrilegious
dagger repented the keenness of its edge.

But Psyche, losing the control of her senses, faint, deadly pale, and
trembling all over, fell on her knees, and made an attempt to hide the
blade in her own bosom; and this no doubt she would have done had not
the blade, dreading the commission of such a crime, glided out of her
rash hand. And now, faint and unnerved as she was, she felt herself
refreshed at heart by gazing upon the beauty of those divine features.
She looked upon the genial locks of his golden head, teeming with
ambrosial perfume, the circling curls that strayed over his milk-white
neck and roseate cheeks, and fell gracefully entangled, some before and
some behind, causing the very light of the lamp itself to flicker by
their radiant splendor. On the shoulders of the god were dewy wings of
brilliant whiteness; and though the pinions were at rest, yet the tender
down that fringed the feathers wantoned to and fro in tremulous,
unceasing play. The rest of his body was smooth and beautiful, and such
as Venus could not have repented of giving birth to. At the foot of his
bed lay his bow, his quiver, and his arrows, the auspicious weapons of
the mighty god.

While with insatiable wonder and curiosity Psyche is examining and
admiring her husband's weapons, she draws one of the arrows out of the
quiver, and touches the point with the tip of her thumb to try its
sharpness; but happening to press too hard, for her hand still trembled,
she punctured the skin, so that some tiny drops of rosy blood oozed
forth. And thus did Psyche, without knowing it, fall in love with Love.
Then, burning more and more with desire for Cupid, gazing passionately
on his face, and fondly kissing him again and again, her only fear was
lest he should wake too soon.

But while she hung over him, bewildered with delight so overpowering,
the lamp, whether from treachery or baneful envy, or because it longed
to touch, and to kiss as it were, so beautiful an object, spirted a drop
of scalding oil from the summit of its flame upon the right shoulder of
the god.... The god, thus scorched, sprang from the bed, and seeing the
disgraceful tokens of forfeited fidelity, started to fly away, without a
word, from the eyes and arms of his most unhappy wife. But Psyche, the
instant he arose, seized hold of his right leg with both