e, the youngest of three princesses, was
so transcendently beautiful that Aphrodite herself became jealous of her,
and no mortal dared to aspire to the honour of her hand. As her sisters,
who were by no means equal to her in attractions, were married, and Psyche
still remained unwedded, her father consulted the oracle of Delphi, and, in
obedience to the divine response, caused her to be dressed as though for
the grave, and conducted to the edge of a yawning precipice. No sooner was
she alone than she felt herself lifted up, and wafted away by the gentle
west wind Zephyrus, who transported her to a verdant meadow, in the midst
of which stood a stately palace, surrounded by groves and fountains.

Here dwelt Eros, the god of Love, in whose arms Zephyrus deposited his
lovely burden. Eros, himself unseen, wooed her in the softest accents of
affection; but warned her, as she valued his love, not to endeavour to
behold his form. For some time Psyche was obedient to the injunction of her
immortal spouse, and made no effort to gratify her natural curiosity; but,
unfortunately, in the midst of her happiness she was seized with an
unconquerable longing for the society of her {152} sisters, and, in
accordance with her desire, they were conducted by Zephyrus to her
fairy-like abode. Filled with envy at the sight of her felicity, they
poisoned her mind against her husband, and telling her that her unseen
lover was a frightful monster, they gave her a sharp dagger, which they
persuaded her to use for the purpose of delivering herself from his power.

After the departure of her sisters, Psyche resolved to take the first
opportunity of following their malicious counsel. She accordingly rose in
the dead of night, and taking a lamp in one hand and a dagger in the other,
stealthily approached the couch where Eros was reposing, when, instead of
the frightful monster she had expected to see, the beauteous form of the
god of Love greeted her view. Overcome with surprise and admiration, Psyche
stooped down to gaze more closely on his lovely features, when, from the
lamp which she held in her trembling hand, there fell a drop of burning oil
upon the shoulder of the sleeping god, who instantly awoke, and seeing
Psyche standing over him with the instrument of death in her hand,
sorrowfully reproached her for her treacherous designs, and, spreading out
his wings, flew away.

In despair at having lost her lover, the unhappy Psyche endeavoured to pu