Chapter 9: The Invitation

Day after day went by in the same fashion, and night after night. Psyche lived her solitude life as she went singing and dancing from room to room, entertaining herself. The great pile of stone was filled with the sound of her lovely voice.

At the end of the day, the mortal maiden returned to her chamber. Her meal was served by the same invisible attendants. She again bathed and anointed herself with perfume, waiting for her beloved partner.

When the night was well advanced, a genial sound met her ears. Cupid had come to make love to her, and the maiden embraced the goddess with longing arms. Psyche began to enjoy herself and her enigmatic lover with more excitement.

This life in the course of nature became delightful to Psyche as she grew accustomed to it. Hearing that soothing golden voice every night consoled her lonely heart. And each time before loving-making, Cupid would ask her wife kindly, "Are you happy, love of my heart? Have you any wish I can make true?"

"No, love, nothing I long for. Only yourself," Psyche whispered as she clung to those shapely forms.

"That you shall have."

"May I see the beauty I hold in my arms, too?" she asked, hopeful.

"One day, of course, but not yet. It is not time."

"Whatever you say, dear heart," Psyche said in a resigned voice. "But then can you not stay with me by day as well, invisible or not? Why must you visit me only at night?"

"That too shall change, perhaps. But not yet, my handsome maiden. It is too soon for you."

"But the day grows so long without you," the mortal girl breathed. "I wait for nightfall, but it seems the sun take too long to set, and I feel as if the night will never come."

"I can assure you that I feel the same torment, even far more intense when I have to depart," Cupid said mournfully. "Now if you pity me, give me your sweet lips and I shall be content."

Then the daughter of Venus reclined herself beside her lovely wife, searching every pleasurable place she could find with her beloved. These visits continued over a long period without any disturbance.

Meanwhile, Psyche's parents were aging in unceasing grief and melancholy, and the rumors of hunters hearing the singing voices spread wide from a distant gloomy hill. Some said it was the ghost of their former princess. Some said that she was still alive and living with the monster there.

Her elder sisters learned about it and vied with each other in haste leaving home and making their way for their parents, to see them and discuss the matter with them.

Cupid, of course, heard all their silly theories as she flew over and across worlds doing her mother's bidding.

That night Cupid said to her wedded lover: "Sweetest Psyche, fond wife of mine, the fate grows savage with me and threatens you with mortal danger. I implore you to show greater carefulness. Your sisters are worried about the rumor that you are dead, and presently they will come to this rock, seeking for traces of you. Should you chance to hear their cries of grief, you are not to respond, or even to set eyes upon them. Otherwise, you will cause me the greatest misery, and bring utter destruction on your lovely self."

It sent a tremor through Psyche's heart. Her face turned pale with worries and sadness, but she promised to follow her beloved's guidance.

After the golden-winged Cupid had vanished before the sun climbed over the mountain range, the poor girl spent the whole day crying and beating her breast.

It wasn't long afterward that her elder sisters came about the location of the mountain rock where their youngest sister had been abandoned. They quickly made their way up the hill. There they cried for their sister until the rocks echoed equally loudly with their loud lamentations.

"Psyche! Psyche!" The piercing notes of their wailing voices could be heard up the mountainside, and Psyche rushed frantically and fearfully from her chamber. But then she remembered the promise she'd made and dared not step farther out of the palace.

"Why," she cried to herself, "do they come to torture themselves and me with their unhappy cries of grief? Here I am, the object of my dear sisters' mourning."

She kept repeating that, saying woe was upon her, for here she was confined and enclosed in that blessed prison, bereft of conversation with human beings for a company and unable to offer consoling relief to her family. As they grieved for her, she was not allowed even to catch a glimpse of them.

Now, it seemed no leisure bath, delicious food, or other relaxation would make Psyche feel better, and she retired to sleep in floods of tears.

~*~

One night Cupid came to bed somewhat earlier than usual. Psyche was still weeping when the goddess embraced her, and her tears broke the goddess's heart.

"Is this because of the promise you made me that vexes you, Psyche?" Cupid asked.

Psyche did not know what to say. She simply burrowed her head into Cupid's soft comforting chest and sighed in despair. Her tears continued to flow ceaselessly, which plagued Cupid with pity.

"Even when we embrace each other as married lovers, it seems you're still tortured by grief. Very well then, have it your own way, follow your own heart. You want company, and so you shall have it."

The maiden looked up with clear crystalline eyes although the goddess was invisible.

"Am I allowed to see my family?"

"I'm afraid I can't let you head back home, but your sisters can come to yours if you wish," the golden voice whispered. "You may want to present them with whatever pieces of gold or jewelry you choose. But should they ask you about who or what I am, do not partake in their baleful investigation. Remember my warning, dear heart, remember my warning."

Psyche was so overjoyed that she readily agreed with whatever her partner proposed.

"Of course, my love, I would rather die a hundred times than forgo the joy of my marriage with you. For I love and cherish you passionately, whoever you are, as much as my own life, I value you and shall heed your words."

"Good then," Cupid said, stroking her wife's golden hair and blushed cheek. "Tomorrow, I shall bid my servant Zephyrus to spirit your sisters up here to you as he once wafted you to me."

"Oh thank you, my dear darling, the delighter of your Psyche's life!" the maiden smiled a dazzling smile and pressed seductive kisses over her golden face, whispered more honeyed words of gratitude. She reached out to enfold her beloved bedmate, snuggling close to her. Cupid, though still harbored unspoken worries, gave in to these joyful words of her wife and promised to do all she asked. Then, as dawn drew near, she vanished from Psyche's embrace again.

~*~

A new day set Psyche's spirit soaring with excitement. True to her words, Cupid had ordered the god of the west wind to bring the two elder sisters to the palace. Zephyrus went speedily and bore them with the gentlest of breezes. The sisters embraced each other, and they landed in the courtyard, windblown and bewildered. They were fearful of having been snatched away from their own gardens and relieved to find themselves deposited so gently in a place like a paradise.

How much more amazed they were, then, to see their own sister, whom they thought long dead, running out of the most magnificent place they'd ever seen. Psyche was more beautiful than ever, blooming with health and beauty, more richly garbed than any queen. Psyche stormed joyously to them and swept them into her arms, embraced, and kissed them.

At last, the sisters recovered from their stunned stupor, and delightedly exchanged eager kisses. The tears which had been dried welled forth again, but this time with great joy.

"Psyche! Our dear little sister! You're alive!" they cried and embraced her. "We thought we would never see you again. O what joy would bring to our dear parents if they knew!"

"Now that you are in good spirits," said Psyche with a bright smile, "you must enter my hearth and home, and let the company of your little sister gladden your hearts that were troubled."

Then she led them through the beautiful gardens, courtyards, fountains, and at last, into her marvelous palace. The sisters were deeply awed by the splendid riches of the golden home. They also heard the voices of Psyche's large retinue. The harmonious lyre and flute relaxed their senses. With every new wonder they saw, they grew more and more suspicious about the owner of those divine possessions.

Psyche then allowed them the rich pleasure of a fragrant bath and elegant clothes. Her invisible maids washed them and anointed them. Afterward, a sumptuous meal was served. They ate and drank with a huge appetite for the food was heavenly. They hardly spoke of anything else except exchanging a few stories of their current lives.

But when Psyche's sisters had had their fill of the copious abundance of riches, which they thought only belonged to heaven, they began to gather deep-rooted envy in their hearts. The sisters too had married kings, but little local ones and this palace made theirs look like dog kennels. They did not eat off golden plates and drink out of jewels. Their servants were the plain old visible kind, not the excellent ghostly maids. And every bite they took made their hearts heavy with jealousy.