ppy Psyche, simple and frail of soul,
carried away by the terror of their words, losing memory of her
husband's precepts and her own promise, brought upon herself a great
calamity. Trembling and turning pale, she answers them, "And they who
tell those things, it may be, speak the truth. For in very deed never
have I seen the face of my husband, nor know I at all what manner of
man he is. Always he frights me diligently from the sight of him,
threatening some great evil should I too curiously look upon his face.
Do ye, if ye can help your sister in her great peril, stand by her now."

[74] Her sisters answered her, "The way of safety we have well
considered, and will teach thee. Take a sharp knife, and hide it in
that part of the couch where thou art wont to lie: take also a lamp
filled with oil, and set it Privily behind the curtain. And when he
shall have drawn up his coils into the accustomed place, and thou
hearest him breathe in sleep, slip then from his side and discover the
lamp, and, knife in hand, put forth thy strength, and strike off the
serpent's head." And so they departed in haste.

And Psyche left alone (alone but for the furies which beset her) is
tossed up and down in her distress, like a wave of the sea; and though
her will is firm, yet, in the moment of putting hand to the deed, she
falters, and is torn asunder by various apprehension of the great
calamity upon her. She hastens and anon delays, now full of distrust,
and now of angry courage: under one bodily form she loathes the monster
and loves the bridegroom. But twilight ushers in the night; and at
length in haste she makes ready for the terrible deed. Darkness came,
and the bridegroom; and he first, after some faint essay of love, falls
into a deep sleep.

And she, erewhile of no strength, the hard purpose of destiny assisting
her, is confirmed in force. With lamp plucked forth, knife in hand,
she put by her sex; and lo! as the secrets of the bed became manifest,
the sweetest and most gentle of all creatures, Love himself, reclined
[75] there, in his own proper loveliness! At sight of him the very
flame of the lamp kindled more gladly! But Psyche was afraid at the
vision, and, faint of soul, trembled back upon her knees, and would
have hidden the steel in her own bosom. But the knife slipped from her
hand; and now, undone, yet ofttimes looking upon the beauty of that
divine countenance, she lives again. She sees the locks of that go