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A Book of Myths, by Jean Lang - Umnet

A Book of Myths, by Jean Lang - Umnet

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which the fame <strong>of</strong> the fair Psyche had spread, that the mighty goddess<br />

Aphrodite had declared herself the enemy <strong>of</strong> the princess. Therefore<br />

none dared seek her in marriage, and although many a noble youth<br />

sighed away his heart for love <strong>of</strong> her, she remained in her father's<br />

palace like an exquisite rose whose thorns make those who fain would<br />

have it for their own, fear to pluck it from the parent stem. Her sisters<br />

married, and her father marvelled why so strange a thing should come<br />

about and why the most beautiful <strong>by</strong> far <strong>of</strong> his three daughters should<br />

remain unwed.<br />

At length, laden with royal gifts, an embassy was sent <strong>by</strong> the king to<br />

the oracle <strong>of</strong> Apollo to inquire what might be the will <strong>of</strong> the dwellers<br />

on Olympus concerning his fairest daughter. In a horror <strong>of</strong> anxiety the<br />

king and his queen and Psyche awaited the return <strong>of</strong> the ambassadors.<br />

And when they returned, before ever a word was spoken, they knew<br />

that the oracle had spoken Psyche's doom.<br />

"No mortal lover shall fair Psyche know," said the oracle. "For<br />

bridegroom she shall have a monster that neither man nor god can resist.<br />

On the mountain top he awaits her coming. Woe unutterable shall come<br />

to the king and to all the dwellers in his land if he dares to resist the<br />

unalterable dictum <strong>of</strong> the deathless gods!"<br />

"... Of dead corpses shalt thou be the king, And stumbling through the<br />

dark land shalt thou go, Howling for second death to end thy woe."<br />

William Morris.<br />

Only for a little while did the wretched king strive to resist the decrees<br />

<strong>of</strong> fate. And in her own chamber, where so short a time before the little<br />

princess had known the joy <strong>of</strong> something inexpressible--something<br />

most exquisite--intangible--unknown--she sat, like a flower broken <strong>by</strong><br />

the ruthless storm, sobbing pitifully, dry-eyed, with sobs that strained<br />

her soul, for the shameful, hideous fate that the gods had dealt her.<br />

All night, until her worn-out body could no longer feel, her worn-out<br />

mind think, and kind sleep came to bring her oblivion, Psyche faced the<br />

horror for the sake <strong>of</strong> her father and <strong>of</strong> his people, that she knew she

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