The New Nation - Internet Edition

Cupid and Psyche

Josephine Preston Peabody

The following short story is reprinted from Old Greek Folk Stories Told Anew. Josephine Preston Peabody. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1897.

Once upon a time, through that Destiny that overrules the gods, Love himself gave up his immortal heart to a mortal maiden. And thus it came to pass.

There was a certain king who had three beautiful daughters. The two elder married princes of great renown; but Psyche, the youngest, was so radiantly fair that no suitor seemed worthy of her. People thronged to see her pass through the city, and sang hymns in her praise, while strangers took her for the very goddess of beauty herself.

This angered Venus, and she resolved to cast down her earthly rival. One day, therefore, she called hither her son Love (Cupid, some name him), and bade him sharpen his weapons. He is an archer more to be dreaded than Apollo, for Apollo's arrows take life, but Love's bring joy or sorrow for a whole life long.

"Come, Love," said Venus. "There is a mortal maid who robs me of my honors in yonder city. Avenge your mother. Wound this precious Psyche, and let her fall in love with some churlish creature mean in the eyes of all men."

Cupid made ready his weapons, and flew down to earth invisibly. At that moment Psyche was asleep in her chamber; but he touched her heart with his golden arrow of love, and she opened her eyes so suddenly that he started (forgetting that he was invisible), and wounded himself with his own shaft.

Heedless of the hurt, moved only by the loveliness of the maiden, he hastened to pour over her locks the healing joy that he ever kept by him, undoing all his work. Back to her dream the princess went, unshadowed by any thought of love. But Cupid, not so light of heart, returned to the heavens, saying not a word of what had passed.

Venus waited long; then, seeing that Psyche's heart had somehow escaped love, she sent a spell upon the maiden. From that time, lovely as she was, not a suitor came to woo; and her parents, who desired to see her a queen at least, made a journey to the Oracle, and asked counsel.

Said the voice: "The princess Psyche shall never wed a mortal. She shall be given to one who waits for her on yonder mountain; he overcomes gods and men."

At this terrible sentence the poor parents were half distraught, and the people gave themselves up to grief at the fate in store for their beloved princess. Psyche alone bowed to her destiny. "We have angered Venus unwittingly," she said, "and all for sake of me, heedless maiden that I am! Give me up, therefore, dear father and mother. If I atone, it may be that the city will prosper once more."

So she besought them, until, after many unavailing denials, the parents consented; and with a great company of people they led Psyche up the mountain,--as an offering to the monster of whom the Oracle had spoken,--and left her there alone.

Full of courage, yet in a secret agony of grief, she watched her kindred and her people wind down the mountain-path, too sad to look back, until they were lost to sight. Then, indeed, she wept, but a sudden breeze drew near, dried her tears, and caressed her hair, seeming to murmur comfort. In truth, it was Zephyr, the kindly West Wind, come to befriend her; and as she took heart, feeling some benignant presence, he lifted her in his arms, and carried her on wings as even as a sea-gull's, over the crest of the fateful mountain and into a valley below. There he left her, resting on a bank of hospitable grass, and there the princess fell asleep.

When she awoke, it was near sunset. She looked about her for some sign of the monster's approach; she wondered, then, if her grievous trial had been but a dream. Near by she saw a sheltering forest, whose young trees seemed to beckon as one maid beckons to another; and eager for the protection of the dryads, she went thither.

The call of running waters drew her farther and farther, till she came out upon an open place, where there was a wide pool. A fountain fluttered gladly in the midst of it, and beyond there stretched a white palace wonderful to see. Coaxed by the bright promise of the place, she drew near, and, seeing no one, entered softly. It was all kinglier than her father's home, and as she stood in wonder and awe, soft airs stirred about her. Little by little the silence grew murmurous like the woods, and one voice, sweeter than the rest, took words. "All that you see is yours, gentle high princess," it said. "Fear nothing; only command us, for we are here to serve you."

Full of amazement and delight, Psyche followed the voice from hall to hall, and through the lordly rooms, beautiful with everything that could delight a young princess. No pleasant thing was lacking. There was even a pool, brightly tiled and fed with running waters, where she bathed her weary limbs; and after she had put on the new and beautiful raiment that lay ready for her, she sat down to break her fast, waited upon and sung to by the unseen spirits.

Surely he whom the Oracle had called her husband was no monster, but some beneficent power, invisible like all the rest. When daylight waned he came, and his voice, the beautiful voice of a god, inspired her to trust her strange destiny and to look and long for his return. Often she begged him to stay with her through the day, that she might see his face; but this he would not grant.

"Never doubt me, dearest Psyche," said he. "Perhaps you would fear if you saw me, and love is all I ask. There is a necessity that keeps me hidden now. Only believe."

So for many days Psyche was content; but when she grew used to happiness, she thought once more of her parents mourning her as lost, and of her sisters who shared the lot of mortals while she lived as a goddess. One night she told her husband of these regrets, and begged that her sisters at least might come to see her. He sighed, but did not refuse.

"Zephyr shall bring them hither," said he. And on the following morning, swift as a bird, the West Wind came over the crest of the high mountain and down into the enchanted valley, bearing her two sisters.

They greeted Psyche with joy and amazement, hardly knowing how they had come hither. But when this fairest of the sisters led them through her palace and showed them all the treasures that were hers, envy grew in their hearts and choked their old love. Even while they sat at feast with her, they grew more and more bitter; and hoping to find some little flaw in her good fortune, they asked a thousand questions.

"Where is your husband?" said they. "And why is he not here with you?"

"Ah," stammered Psyche. "All the day long--he is gone, hunting upon the mountains."

"But what does he look like?" they asked; and Psyche could find no answer.

When they learned that she had never seen him, they laughed her faith to scorn.

"Poor Psyche," they said. "You are walking in a dream. Wake, before it is too late. Have you forgotten what the Oracle decreed,--that you were destined for a dreadful creature, the fear of gods and men? And are you deceived by this show of kindliness? We have come to warn you. The people told us, as we came over the mountain, that your husband is a dragon, who feeds you well for the present, that he may feast the better, some day soon. What is it that you trust? Good words! But only take a dagger some night, and when the monster is asleep go, light a lamp, and look at him. You can put him to death easily, and all his riches will be yours--and ours."

Psyche heard this wicked plan with horror. Nevertheless, after her sisters were gone, she brooded over what they had said, not seeing their evil intent; and she came to find some wisdom in their words. Little by little, suspicion ate, like a moth, into her lovely mind; and at nightfall, in shame and fear, she hid a lamp and a dagger in her chamber. Towards midnight, when her husband was fast asleep, up she rose, hardly daring to breathe; and coming softly to his side, she uncovered the lamp to see some horror.

But there the youngest of the gods lay sleeping,--most beautiful, most irresistible of all immortals. His hair shone golden as the sun, his face was radiant as dear Springtime, and from his shoulders sprang two rainbow wings.

Poor Psyche was overcome with self-reproach. As she leaned towards him, filled with worship, her trembling hands held the lamp ill, and some burning oil fell upon Love's shoulder and awakened him.

He opened his eyes, to see at once his bride and the dark suspicion in her heart.

"O doubting Psyche!" he exclaimed with sudden grief,--and then he flew away, out of the window.

Wild with sorrow, Psyche tried to follow, but she fell to the ground instead. When she recovered her senses, she stared about her. She was alone, and the place was beautiful no longer. Garden and palace had vanished with Love.

Over mountains and valleys Psyche journeyed alone until she came to the city where her two envious sisters lived with the princes whom they had married. She stayed with them only long enough to tell the story of her unbelief and its penalty. Then she set out again to search for Love.

As she wandered one day, travel-worn but not hopeless, she saw a lofty palace on a hill near by, and she turned her steps thither. The place seemed deserted. Within the hall she saw no human being,--only heaps of grain, loose ears of corn half torn from the husk, wheat and barley, alike scattered in confusion on the floor. Without delay, she set to work binding the sheaves together and gathering the scattered ears of corn in seemly wise, as a princess would wish to see them. While she was in the midst of her task, a voice startled her, and she looked up to behold Demeter herself, the goddess of the harvest, smiling upon her with good will.

"Dear Psyche," said Demeter, "you are worthy of happiness, and you may find it yet. But since you have displeased Venus, go to her and ask her favor. Perhaps your patience will win her pardon."

These motherly words gave Psyche heart, and she reverently took leave of the goddess and set out for the temple of Venus. Most humbly she offered up her prayer, but Venus could not look at her earthly beauty without anger.

"Vain girl," said she, "perhaps you have come to make amends for the wound you dealt your husband; you shall do so. Such clever people can always find work!"

Then she led Psyche into a great chamber heaped high with mingled grain, beans, and lintels (the food of her doves), and bade her separate them all and have them ready in seemly fashion by night. Heracles would have been helpless before such a vexatious task; and poor Psyche, left alone in this desert of grain, had not courage to begin. But even as she sat there, a moving thread of black crawled across the floor from a crevice in the wall; and bending nearer, she saw that a great army of ants in columns had come to her aid. The zealous little creatures worked in swarms, with such industry over the work they like best, that, when Venus came at night, she found the task completed.

"Deceitful girl," she cried, shaking the roses out of her hair with impatience, "this is my son's work, not yours. But he will soon forget you. Eat this black bread if you are hungry, and refresh your dull mind with sleep. To-morrow you will need more wit."

Psyche wondered what new misfortune could be in store for her. But when morning came, Venus led her to the brink of a river, and, pointing to the wood across the water, said, "Go now to yonder grove where the sheep with the golden fleece are wont to browse. Bring me a golden lock from every one of them, or you must go your ways and never come back again."

This seemed not difficult, and Psyche obediently bade the goddess farewell, and stepped into the water, ready to wade across. But as Venus disappeared, the reeds sang louder and the nymphs of the river, looking up sweetly, blew bubbles to the surface and murmured: "Nay, nay, have a care, Psyche. This flock has not the gentle ways of sheep. While the sun burns aloft, they are themselves as fierce as flame; but when the shadows are long, they go to rest and sleep, under the trees; and you may cross the river without fear and pick the golden fleece off the briers in the pasture."

Thanking the water-creatures, Psyche sat down to rest near them, and when the time came, she crossed in safety and followed their counsel. By twilight she returned to Venus with her arms full of shining fleece.

"No mortal wit did this," said Venus angrily. "But if you care to prove your readiness, go now, with this little box, down to Proserpina and ask her to enclose in it some of her beauty, for I have grown pale in caring for my wounded son."

It needed not the last taunt to sadden Psyche. She knew that it was not for mortals to go into Hades and return alive; and feeling that Love had forsaken her, she was minded to accept her doom as soon as might be.

But even as she hastened towards the descent, another friendly voice detained her. "Stay, Psyche, I know your grief. Only give ear and you shall learn a safe way through all these trials." And the voice went on to tell her how one might avoid all the dangers of Hades and come out unscathed. (But such a secret could not pass from mouth to mouth, with the rest of the story.)

"And be sure," added the voice, "when Proserpina has returned the box, not to open it, however much you may long to do so."

Psyche gave heed, and by this device, whatever it was, she found her way into Hades safely, and made her errand known to Proserpina, and was soon in the upper world again, wearied but hopeful.

"Surely Love has not forgotten me," she said. "But humbled as I am and worn with toil, how shall I ever please him? Venus can never need all the beauty in this casket; and since I use it for Love's sake, it must be right to take some." So saying, she opened the box, heedless as Pandora! The spells and potions of Hades are not for mortal maids, and no sooner had she inhaled the strange aroma than she fell down like one dead, quite overcome.

But it happened that Love himself was recovered from his wound, and he had secretly fled from his chamber to seek out and rescue Psyche. He found her lying by the wayside; he gathered into the casket what remained of the philter, and awoke his beloved.

"Take comfort," he said, smiling. "Return to our mother and do her bidding till I come again."

Away he flew; and while Psyche went cheerily homeward, he hastened up to Olympus, where all the gods sat feasting, and begged them to intercede for him with his angry mother.

They heard his story and their hearts were touched. Zeus himself coaxed Venus with kind words till at last she relented, and remembered that anger hurt her beauty, and smiled once more. All the younger gods were for welcoming Psyche at once, and Hermes was sent to bring her hither. The maiden came, a shy newcomer among those bright creatures. She took the cup that Hebe held out to her, drank the divine ambrosia, and became immortal.

Light came to her face like moonrise, two radiant wings sprang from her shoulders; and even as a butterfly bursts from its dull cocoon, so the human Psyche blossomed into immortality.

Love took her by the hand, and they were never parted any more.

A memorable travel

Shah Abdul Halim

(From previous issue)

Then I went to the Karachi Press Club with Saeed Usmani, an eminent journalist of Karachi about whom I have discussed earlier and reached there at 5.00 p.m. and stayed there until 6.30 p.m. There I met several senior journalists. We talked about the training of the junior journalists, the relations between senior and junior journalists, freedom of press, government interference or advice to the press on the publication of news and opinions and restrictions on the distribution of state distributed advertisement on newspapers opposed to the establishment. The senior journalists of Karachi are very much skeptical about taking any help from the government and any industrial group for the fear that they might loose their freedom. These journalists want to keep their head up.

At the end of our discussion Yusuf Khan of the Nawa-i-Waqt Group of Newspapers informed me that the grandchildren of H.S. Suhrawardy who are settled in Karachi and some of them often visit Bangladesh to meet their old acquaintances and after coming back to Pakistan meet the press in Karachi and tell that the people of Bangladesh wants to join Pakistan. He wanted my comments. I said that these people must be crazy. I told Yusuf Khan not to give ear to such bull story. I told him that the people of Bangladesh who faced the atrocity of the Pakistan army are still alive and that memory is still fresh. Our young generation is very proud of Bangladesh and they are fully alive of what happened in 1971. Awami League which spearheaded the liberation war is very much active to keep the memory of 1971 fresh in the mind of our youths. Even geo-political reality does not support the proposition of such union.

Yusuf Khan then said that they have realized that they have committed excess in 1971. 'We want to apologize. What should be the language of apology, can you write down', he asked me. I said to Yusuf Khan that Pakistan should get such a text approved by the Government of Bangladesh through diplomatic channel. I told Yusuf Khan that approving the text by the Government of Bangladesh will be enough if Awami League is in power at that time in Bangladesh otherwise you should get the text also approved by Awami League and its leader Sheikh Hasian if you really want to burry the past and improve relations between two brotherly Muslim countries. Sheikh Hasina, the proud daughter of Bangladesh architect Sheikh Mujibur Rahman will not agree to anything less then apology acceptable to her and Awami League. I told Yusuf Khan, seeking apology by Pakistan for committing excess in 1971 is important for we must not bear the burden of another generation and this is the international norm. I told that the Parliament of Pakistan should adopt the resolution earlier approved by Bangladesh. But before tabling the resolution in the Parliament, the President of Pakistan should make a solemn statement in the Parliament regretting what happened in 1971 and after passing the resolution the Members of the Parliament should stand up to observe one minute silence to show their respect for the heroes and martyrs of Bangladesh War of Liberation.

The last thing I tried to do before leaving Karachi is to contact by telephone M. Yaqoob Tabani and A. Rouf Tabani, owners of Tabani Group of Companies to call on them and pay my respect to them for the hospitality shown to me by them during my stay in Islamabad. But I could not contact them despite several attempts. On returning to Bangladesh I send them an email expressing my thanks and appreciation through my niece Hasnain Sabih Nayak.

I also made a farewell call on Brother Muhammad Husain Mehanti to pay my regards and thanked him for the wonderful arrangements made to make my stay and movement in Karachi comfortable. He presented me a film on Moulana Mawdudi. Protocol Officer Brother Muhammad Raziuddin Khaled Mehanti presented me 5 kg sweet mango of Pakistan. In the early morning of 18 July I left Karachi for Dhaka by PIA.

In the PIA Flight in the hindsight I was contemplating what is the lesson my visit of Pakistan. One of the realizations of visiting Pakistan and mixing with the Islamists is that they don't give value to time. Although sunrises at 5.30 a.m. and sets at 8.30 p.m. these days, nobody is prepared to utilize the long day time effectively. They start their work mostly at 11.00 a.m. The other thing they have not as yet accustomed is to keep words no matter whether he is junior or senior. This happened many times. Sometimes they will give commitment which might be misleading, can be interpreted this way or the other. The most important think is that they keep people waiting and then do not turn up but never regrets.

The other most important thing is that they are not prepared to listen to facts which are different then their previously held views and happy to find faults of others and not ready to find out their own faults.

It appears from their apparent behavior that they are not prepared to evaluate their past activities, not ready to tolerate criticism of their leaders for adopting certain strategy or their failure in some matters and have totally failed to strike a balance between following leaders (u lil amr) and blind following (taqlid) and to make a sharp distinction between proud behavior and remaining upright. They have not taken lesson that we may be critical on every matter and can debate on everything except the dhat of Allah.

It appeared from my interaction that the Islamists formulate their policy based on negative reaction of individuals or groups but Islamists response should be based on policy planning built on positive elements.

(The writer is the Chairman of Islamic Information Bureau Bangladesh. Email: sah1947@ yahoo.com Website: www. shahfoundationbd.org)

Poem

Alive

Ashraful Musaddeq

Slice the yesterday

Like the onion

And feed the tomorrow.

Slice the love

Like the cheese

And feed the dreams t

Slice the moment

Like the silence

And feed the lonely life.

Slice the life

Like the time

And feed the death t

On the edge of moment

You are still alive!

Busy life

Julian Parrish

Get up early and make food before call crows.

Work hard full day to survive and change brow.

How family and parents are doing I don't know,

And can not go to see them often as earn is low.

Unable to go for recreation for few moments,

And can not keep family near as too many rents.

Forgot beautiful green trees and golden ground,

And also how to love wife and idly walk around.

Hookah's sounds and grief coals with tongs,

And not hear in spring cuckoo's tuneful songs,

Performed over the bush and green hill,

And where is kite prey chicken with his bill.

Where is time to pray to the almighty God,

So can not compare between bad and good.

No time to think about the morality,

Try to seize everything as good quality.

Going fast to get satisfaction and new,

But for the future never try to see preview.

Really don't know where is going to find,

Passing and wasting wonderful life as a blind.

No time to take rest, chat or cut funny story.

Always worry and busy to get bad glory,

So occurs brain stroke and high blood pressure,

And happen also heart attack to get leisure.

Majority are trying to make illegal money,

Even though he is clerk so it is very funny.

Many are involved with the awful politics,

And like to build big house with bricks.

No laugh and sound sleep for many tensions.

Not possible stop thinking about occupation.

Everywhere temptation and corruption,

And so hell is ready for final destination.

Without child pass away from the earth be unfair.

Ability is little to educate well and to take care,

But to survive get free light, water, heat and air,

Only to get food, production cost need to bear.

Beings are making life too complex and critical.

Everyone thinks, is doing everything logical.

Most of the time can not adjust and fail,

Then try to flee from own self and like to get bail.