Cupid and Psyche
Page 5
Touched them, nor glanced, nor spoke—never wounded one
With a careless shot stolen from the blind-boy’s bow….
What is your power? Mortal or divine?
Speak, Psyche. As I am a goddess—Speak.
PSYCHE.
What should I say?
APHRODITE.
Ah! Then you have a tongue!
PSYCHE.
And a mind to go with it. Who are you?
Or rather, what is your name? By what word
Are you called? And in that one word only—
Speak.
APHRODITE.
They call me Love-goddess, Terrible, Divine.
She of the rose-petal lips, Sea-foam Sprung.
Dawn rises in mine eyes and men lie buried
In my breast. All men quiver with my—
Where are you going?
PSYCHE.
To one who has a name. You are a mere description.
APHRODITE.
My very name would make a mortal quake.
As you are a mortal—
PSYCHE.
I would surely die.
Well, men were made to perish, you and I.
I will bear your name, if you will bear my lack.
If your name kills me, you can take your own name back.
Who are you? Answer. Speak.
APHRODITE.
A goddess.
PSYCHE.
Which?
APHRODITE.
Venus. Aphrodite.
PSYCHE.
Aphrodite? Ha!
APHRODITE.
‘Ha’? You laugh?
PSYCHE.
You jest.
APHRODITE.
I do not speak in mirth.
PSYCHE.
No, no! You speak in madness—much more suiting to your state!
APHRODITE.
You mock me now.
PSYCHE.
Mock you? Never. Doubt you, I do.
APHRODITE.
What cause have you to doubt that which is true?
PSYCHE.
Truth, I doubt not. In truth, I doubt you.
Any woman may call herself a goddess.
Naming doesn’t make it so. I may name
Myself “Divine,” and in another breath
Name me “Queen of All I See,” and then again,
Name me a mouse or tree or anything—
But I remain myself, myself alone.
And still, I am no goddess. Neither are you.
APHRODITE.
And if I were to prove myself a god,
Then would you, girl-thing, bend the knee to Love?
PSYCHE.
You cannot prove it, and I shall never kneel.
Love is not a thing; it has no name, no shape,
No form to grasp. It is a Passion, fleeting
And unfaithful. I have no more faith in “love”
Than I have faith in you. Farewell.
APHRODITE.
Do not be gone. I command you to stay!
PSYCHE.
Being no goddess, I need not obey.
APHRODITE.
Being but mortal, you must acquiesce.
PSYCHE.
Being free willed, I deny your request.
APHRODITE.
Then hear me awhile, this I command:
Thou shalt be beguiled by whatever man
Next crosses thy path, next catches thine eye,
And thou shalt love him with all thy hard heart.
PSYCHE.
O!
I tremble with fear! I shiver, I quake!
I screw shut my eyes, lest some lovely eyes make
Me fall into love! On whom shall I look?
I should hate for this chance to be so soon mistook.
To choose whom to love? How original—very!
Upon whom should I look? With whom should I marry?
Open wide eyes! And glance bravely about!
On him, and on him, and on him and on—Hold.
Hold, my small heart. Have I e’er loved ‘til now?
What man do I spy with arrow and bow?
A man, did I say? A God rather be!
To match with this ‘goddess’—who hath no hold on me.
There is my answer. There my hard heart.
There, too, my secret. And there shall we part.
Adieu.
(Exeunt severally. CUPID and ADONIS enter.)
CUPID.
A tale there was! A bawdy tale! A tale
Of tails well chased. Women, aye, and men, too—
Caught in the May-morning brambles, and the Satyr’s
Hairy arms, well-wound with climbing nymphs
That seemed at night to women be, and now
Were found to be herbs and no women there at all!
This was much sport for a Midsummer’s Eve.
To make all mortal men go mad is my delight.
And you, Adonis, spurned our night—for fear,
No doubt, of my mother’s rage, or else
Of Hades’ bride. O, be a man, Adonis!
Spurn the love of women, your mistresses curse
And join us in the hunt for lusty swains
And eager wretches. I swear you’ll be well-
Satisfied for your nights’ endeavours.
What say you?
ADONIS.
I say I have no interest in the hunt—
Unless you be the boar that I pursue.
CUPID.
A bore? You cut me to the quick! I’m witty.
ADONIS.
You’re pretty.
CUPID.
I know.
ADONIS.
My lord…
CUPID.
Hmm?
ADONIS.
I’d ask a thing of you.
CUPID.
O!, what is it now? I long to make a bridesmaid’s dress fall off.
ADONIS.
My lord, you loved me once—
CUPID.
(Overlapping.) Adonis.
ADONIS.
(Overlapping.) And for my beauty
Pledged that all who looked on me would hunger
‘Til I satisfied.
CUPID.
Lust is never sated.
ADONIS.
I know that now.
CUPID.
Then glory in my gift!
ADONIS.
It is a curse!
Sweet lord, I do not long for lust—but love.
I long for thee. Has been ever thus. But thou—
Wouldst none of me.
CUPID.
And so you took my mother.
ADONIS.
I took what love was offered—
CUPID.
(Overlapping.) You took what had been mine!
But peace; enough. Tonight Love is triumphant.
Name what you would have, and I will give it.
ADONIS.
Touch me.
CUPID.
No.
ADONIS.
Bless me, then. And with your kisses heal me
Of this lecherous disease. Kill me
If you must, but say that you will love me,
Myself alone. Myself for who I am—
CUPID.
You are a slave, Adonis. You sold yourself.
Not I. What’s left of you to love?
Well?
Have you no words? Did my mother take your tongue?
ADONIS.
I say I will not speak when she this way comes.
CUPID.
My mother?
ADONIS.
Aye.
CUPID.
Oh, God.
APHRODITE.
O, me! My son!
CUPID.
Mother! What? Are you come to say you go?
APHRODITE.
Go? No. Unless you also come. Adonis!
Tend on me. (He does.) The clock stands tiptoe
On the dial: one hour more, you’r
e mine.
ADONIS.
One hour left; I dare not disobey.
CUPID.
One hour far too long, and I’ll not stay.
My cue, I think, is…this. (He tries to leave.)
APHRODITE.
(To CUPID.) You are among mortal men, so I see.
And carelessly revealing who you are?
CUPID.
The wings reveal. I left the wings at home.
Go fetch them, if you will, for I will none.
APHRODITE.
Impudent boy.
CUPID.
Of inconstancy born.
APHRODITE.
Inconstancy, aye. I see you have wooed mine own, my Adonis.
CUPID.
Not only yours, mother. Persephone’s, too.
In one hour, I believe!
ADONIS.
Our Cupid
Begged this night for my kisses, and to lay him
For an hour, in my arms. But I would none.
CUPID.
I’ve changed my mind. What’s one more in the hunt?
APHRODITE.
He’ll join in the hunt, and by you be hunted.
CUPID.
A better marksman, I, than Death. But come.
‘Twas not of he you came to speak with me,
Nor of the happy bride and groom, I wager.
Who is it then you’d set my sights upon?
APHRODITE.
You are shrewd, my son. I do have need of you
To strike the heart of one who has struck
The soul of me. Upon her will you wreak
Your wrath of love. And in that cruel passion
Is your mother revenged. Make her breast swoon
At ape or cock-eyed bull. Fill her heart
For spider’s legs, for asp or ass or any
Ugly thing. Give her to the Cyclops.
Mute her. Blind her. Strike her in the breast.
Shove through her ear your golden tongue and wound
The tongue that wounded me. Take her, rape her,
Do what you will—so am I revenged.
CUPID.
I dare not disobey. Who is the girl?
APHRODITE.
You see her there.
CUPID.
Who, she?
APHRODITE.
Even so.
CUPID.
Ah.
APHRODITE.
Tell me not that you affect her, too?
CUPID.
Not I. But I know many men who do.
And now understand why you’re so affected.
Why, you’ve been spurned! Love’s love is rejected!
And think you with her I better shall fare?
Where you have failed, how shall I then compare?
Men call me blind, who by me are blinded,
But her heart is blind by thoughts too well minded.
I cannot do it.
APHRODITE.
Cannot? Or will not, son?
How canst thou know what thou canst not when thou durst not attempt?
No work is concluded which was never begun.
CUPID.
Enough. I’ll try.
APHRODITE.
You must not fail me—
CUPID.
Go.
And take your lapdog with you.
APHRODITE.
I thank you, son. (She starts to leave.)
ADONIS.
This dog as well.
APHRODITE.
Adonis, come. Night’s winding sheet is empty,
Myself likewise. Come worship me, Adonis;
Come pour thick libations, my priest and my slave.
I’ll sour your mouth to Persephone’s charms,
And make all love your Hell. (She kisses ADONIS deeply.)
Farewell, my son. Take care you fail me not.
(APHRODITE and ADONIS exeunt.)
CUPID.
Tender me no thanks, thou faithless woman
And more faithless friend. I’ll make an end
Of her and ease my mind, then search out Bacchus
To hope some wine is left. Now let me see…
She will not be reduced to tears by sighs;
And should I vow, she’d think it was a lie—
Nor would be wrong; for it’s rare that I am honest.
If I flatter her, she’ll take it as a trick,
For she thinks more poorly of herself
Than ever I could do. Why then, insult her,
And let her rage—which is a kind of love—
Consume her ‘til she fall into my bed:
A burnt and ashen corpse. That will not do.
No counterfeit will woo her, but myself
Who have no face to call my own, but this
Blank and wretched canvas on whose frame
Have men heaped hopes, and women blame.
Yet, I do fear this woman, who solemn bides,
Whose eyes see all, and leave no place to hide.
(PSYCHE enters, pursued by THANOS.)
THANOS.
Peace, Psyche, peace! Why will you not stay?
PSYCHE.
I pray you, Father, ask me not to linger. My mind dislikes this company, these eyes, these hearts…these men.
THANOS.
This is not like you, Psyche. To leave your sister on her wedding day? To leave your father with no one to amuse him? With whom shall I laugh? Not with Livia: she lost her laugh for love of him who loves her not. Nor Dareia, who sold her body’s laughter with her body’s price. Look not so amazed! Do you think because your father is old and sad and full of fond words, he doesn’t know his daughter’s souls? And your soul, Psyche, is sad tonight—angered and out of joint. Who’s talked with you? Who’s taken your smile? Hath some man spoke rudely? Do I need my sword? Or has some jealous tongue wagged with ten jealous words? Do you long for a bridegroom? Or a wedding bed? Have I offended you?
PSYCHE.
No.
THANOS.
Then say: what ails you tonight?
PSYCHE.
None but myself. Father, I have looked on fifty men tonight, on five times fifty—on fifty-thousand! And still, I cannot love.
THANOS.
Do you love me?
PSYCHE.
Of course!
THANOS.
Then, you have no need of other men! O!, I am jealous and I am fond, and I am glad one daughter has no care for men. For this wedding has been like a Death to me: to lose one daughter, to lose two—lose three? I should beg the gods to kill me first.
PSYCHE.
I think I met a god tonight.
THANOS.
A god? O Hells. How have you offended them?
PSYCHE.
Not I!
There was one curst me, or blessed me, and I
Believed it. Hoped for it. Looked upon it with joy—
And to my surprise, with longing, too.
But there is no curse, and no blessing either.
As there are no gods here, and no loving God’s favour.
The more fool, I! O, Father…am I pretty?
THANOS.
As pretty as your mother when she lived.
PSYCHE.
I have seen her picture. She was not fair.
THANOS.
Her painting was far from fair, but no other woman could stop my heart. My heart did seem to stop the day she died. If it were not for your love, I should have followed her happily to Hades’ realm. But here now, enough! I’ll have you dance.
PSYCHE.
Father…
THANOS.
It’s a wedding, my dear, and you lack romance.
But here is a boy who gazes intently
At my sweet Psyche, whom Heaven hath lent me.
Thus for your laugh, I will lend you awhile
To this boy here behind you, who hath stolen your smile.
Come forth man! (CUPID arrives.) Psyche, you stay.
Civility now is the word of
the day.
See dear, he blushes! And you do as well.
PSYCHE.
Father!
THANOS.
What of it? He finds it attractive.
CUPID.
Good sir—
PSYCHE.
(Overlapping) Dear Father—
THANOS.
Tut. I am Fortune, and tonight you are favoured.
But here is my daughter, whom doubtless you sought
For a kiss, or a dance, or for one loving glance.
Well, she will not love you! Though kiss you, she might.
And if you entreat her with fair, comely words,
A compliment or two, behaviour fitting to a gentleman,
And when she tires, a swift, timely leave—
Then you may hold her within your arms
For the length of a measure. I’ll turn a blind eye
If you, man, can her ailing smile revive.
PSYCHE.
But Father—
THANOS.
And as for you, daughter, tell me not nay.
I know thou shalt not love him, shall not leave me,
Shall not find a lasting solace in a moment
Of frivolity—for thou thinkest overmuch.
Leave thy thoughts in my care. I’ll bear their weight
In these, my weathered hands, and give them back
To thee when the evening star makes curtsy to the sun.
Be thou a girl tonight, and not merely an idea. (Exits.)
CUPID AND PSYCHE.