Cupid and Psyche
Page 18
Shadow! Coward! Monster! Madness! Husband!
Still he will not come. And…I am glad.
I do not want him near me for his crimes.
And yet I would that he would answer me –
O, speak a word aloud! Or show yourself!
He is silent, still.
And I am alone.
The hours, minutes, days, weeks, years pass by
In strange succession. Apollo’s fiery chariot
May hang two weeks together in the sky
But it would feel no longer than the snap
Of these my fingers. Or one afternoon I spend,
Languid lying in the buttercups,
May be a thousand years on earth – never
To be visited again. My sisters
May be riddled through with fattening worms
And I would never know – O, fearful thought!
I shall not think it.
But return once more, my thought, to me!
For these morbid fancies of the brain
Are all my company in this barren place.
Barren, but so beautiful that were I
To see the earth once more, my home would seem
A shadow. The sweetest smelling rose would be
Ashen in compare with the humblest violet here.
Everything in this place is more real and alive –
All but myself and my Love. Insubstantial,
We, two strangers who have known each other.
So weary have these days become that I
Would almost wish my sisters here with me.
So hollow every lingering night
That I’ve sometimes crept to where my husband,
Weeping, lies. I’ve felt his tears scorch my hand,
Just here, when once he thought I was asleep.
But I’ll not love him for the wrong he’s done.
Therefore I’ll lonely walk while he does weep.
Act IV, Scene 4 (Original)
APHRODITE.
Persephone! Come forth! O, all twelve Hells,
I hate this place. So hard and splintered,
Jagged rock and musty rhime. The souls I’ve known,
Lovers whom I’ve cause to love, from Lethe drink
And husband hath no memory of wife,
Mother hath no memory of child,
Child hath no memory of anything.
Moaning, laden with the chains of sloth, they cry
With severed tongues. This is no place for Love.
No place for one as glorious fair as Adonis.
No place as well for flower-picking Persephone.
O, what chill wind roars through my ancient bones!
I feel the death of gods approaching – O!
I’m so cold in this strange new world that will not
Welcome Love but makes Death their only god.
How soon ‘til Hades overruns the earth?
Still, I’ll save Adonis from his grip.
Persephone, by our bonds of sorrow,
I command thee to come forth!
(PERSEPHONE enters.)
PERSEPHONE.
Sister, dear. I knew you at once by your
Dulcet voice. I came as quickly as I could.
But Cerberus was hungry. What would you?
[Alternate Scenes] Act V, Scene 2 – Four Lovers’ Fate (Psyche)
Return to Text
The ultimate fates of the Four Lovers gave me quite a bit of trouble. They kept wanting to return in Act V, and certainly I was heedful of trying to stay somewhat faithful to the myth where the sisters convince Psyche that her love is a Beast.
The first draft of the scene worked fairly well, in large part because the actors portraying those roles were a wonderful unit, and in part because the through-line for Cupid and Psyche was less well-defined and so the audience was relieved to see four clowns wander on the stage.
You’ll notice Aphrodite and Psyche falling into their usual verse traps.
That first iteration looked like this:
(Silently, APHRODITE enters, approaching CUPID’S quiver of arrows.)
APHRODITE.
Betrayed am I, but shall not myself betray.
Cupid I cannot grieve, though he grieves me.
But on Psyche I may wreak my vengeance,
And conclude what was begun. Come forth, Death.
Come forth, Love-in-Death. Come forth, inky arrow,
Whose lightest touch no god nor man can bear.
I will use thee to send a soul to Hades.
But let not my hand do this bitter deed.
Here come four friends who will fulfill my need.
(The Four Lovers stumble on. APHRODITE withdraws a pace.)
CHRYSOS.
What voice is that?
LIVIA.
Why is’t so dark?
BRONTES.
Leave off my hand!
DAREIA.
‘Tis mine, you fool! Chrysos, husband!
CHRYSOS.
I know that voice.
LIVIA.
Where have we come?
BRONTES.
I see a light.
DAREIA.
Thou seest nothing.
LIVIA.
He’ll not see me.
CHRYSOS.
Speak! Who’s there?
DAREIA.
Be silent, fool.
LIVIA.
Belike there is some monster from the deep come to eat us all!
BRONTES.
Aye, with fangs of steel and a taste for virgins pure.
LIVIA.
Wilt thou save me then?
BRONTES.
I would not take you to my bed before.
CHRYSOS.
Is no one there?
DAREIA.
Perhaps we should not speak aloud. How came we to this place?
APHRODITE.
I brought you all.
BRONTES.
Stand back!
CHRYSOS.
O, hide me, wife!
DAREIA.
What man art thou?
LIVIA.
O would the moon were full!
CHRYSOS.
Nay, keep it dark! Though we mayn’t see, we won’t be seen. The safer we.
DAREIA.
Thou woman in a seeming man! Wear skirts thyself to hide behind!
BRONTES.
The moon!
LIVIA.
It’s crashing to the earth!
CHRYSOS.
O, we shall die!
BRONTES.
If we’re not dead.
DAREIA.
Be quiet, fools! No moon descends. I see a woman. Speak. Who are you? And what would you? And how came we to this place?
APHRODITE.
I am a friend.
DAREIA.
So anyone might say.
CHRYSOS.
Quiet, wife, be quiet!
APHRODITE.
A goddess am I, come to you.
BRONTES.
In comely form.
LIVIA.
Brontes! No.
APHRODITE.
I thank thee, bond-slave. And I bless thee, too.
Thy face doth much become me. Wilt thou worship?
CHRYSOS.
It is some trick!
LIVIA.
Then are we dead?
APHRODITE.
Not dead, no. But very near the doorway.
I have brought you here for your sister’s sake.
DAREIA.
For who?
LIVIA.
For Psyche?
APHRODITE.
The very same.
LIVIA.
She lives?
APHRODITE.
For now. But I do much fear me, the Beast,
Her bristled, crook-fang lover, hungry waits
To dragon-like devour her this night.
CHRYSOS.
And you brought us here, mistress? To his lair? A cheap trick, indeed! Send u
s back before he eats us, too! What care we if Psyche lives or dies? A father-murderer deserves a monster’s death. Let us, innocent, go.
DAREIA.
One moment, Chrysos. We should not judge such things too quickly.
LIVIA.
She may be sorry for what she’s done.
BRONTES.
Or it may be that she’s a dragon, too, and so is worthy food for him.
APHRODITE.
Thou art wise, bond-slave. I like thee very well.
I brought you here to kill her. A mercy
That I think you, her loving sisters, know.
I would not ask this thing except in love.
You feel a weight upon your souls; would purge it –
Then purge your guilt by plunging this in her.
‘Twill be a gentle death. ‘Struth! She’ll thank you
For saving her from pain, from the clutches
Of the Beast, that once before you conquered.
And if you still do doubt me, take this light
And it will show you the truth of everything,
Of all you do behold. Psyche sorrows.
Will you not do her this single mercy?
But soft! She comes. Your hearts remake in stone.
Close up your ears, and let my will be done.
(APHRODITE withdraws. PSYCHE enters.)
PSYCHE.
What happy voices hasten to mine ear?
He promised me an hour’s time should pass
Ere I’d behold them, yet, here my sisters are!
Faster than the breathless Dawn could run
On rosy heels. Dareia! Livia!
They see me not. Yet I see them. How strange.
The moon indeed hath winked her rheumy eye,
Yet still I see their silver silhouettes.
How small they are, and frightened. Was I even so?
Sisters, can you not hear me?
LIVIA.
Psyche?
PSYCHE.
Aye.
LIVIA.
Lift the lantern higher. I cannot see her face.
CHRYSOS.
O, it is green and horrible!
DAREIA.
A wonder you can see at all with your face hid in my back!
CHRYSOS.
A corpse she is! A corpse indeed!
LIVIA.
Most ghostlike! O, most ghostlike!
BRONTES.
We’ve died indeed and here is Hell to spend eternity with you!
LIVIA.
You loved me once, when Death was near.
BRONTES.
Then married you, the more fool I. To marry me to Hell!
(PSYCHE steps forward.)
PSYCHE.
No, no. Not Hell. But mayhap you’re in Heaven.
CHRYSOS.
The beast! The beast! Slay it quick! Before it speaks!
LIVIA.
O strike it, sister! Ghost in Psyche’s form!
BRONTES.
Give me the light!
CHRYSOS.
Nay, put it out!
LIVIA.
Why do you wait? You did not wait before!
DAREIA.
She does not look like death.
BRONTES.
‘Struth, she is more lovely. I think we are in Heaven!
LIVIA.
Listen not to her! Look not at her! Strike her, Dareia! Strike her dead!
CHRYSOS.
Save me at least, my wife! Think of your husband! Strike!
BRONTES.
Nay, hold your hand.
PSYCHE.
Would you slay me, sister? So soon after a joyful reunion?
DAREIA.
The arrow is not mine! Another gave it to me!
PSYCHE.
Another, who? A woman or a man?
DAREIA.
A woman brought us to this foul place.
PSYCHE.
O no! It is not foul! Can you not see the fluted columns, the poplar trees, the graceful birds that sail like bandeaux through the sky?
FOUR LOVERS.
No.
CHRYSOS.
The Beast has eaten her brain!
PSYCHE.
Believe me, I am in my right mind.
DAREIA.
Right mind, Psyche? This place is a dunghole! Filthy and foul. Can’t you see by this light?
LIVIA.
It shows the truth of everything.
PSYCHE.
Of everything you see? Or all you hope to see? Does it make you speak the truth?
DAREIA.
So said the woman who gave it me.
PSYCHE.
I see no woman here. By this light you saw her?
LIVIA.
She shone with her own light.
CHRYSOS.
I never saw a lovelier – ow!
BROTNES.
Though lovely Psyche’s right. I see no stranger woman here, always yourself, my wife, excepted.
LIVIA.
O you are a brute, you Cyclops, you swine!
PSYCHE.
What is this, Livia, Brontes? Did not your love endure?
BRONTES.
Our love? Our love, you say? No love felt I
For moping, miserable Livia!
If ever I gave her my word, ‘twas when I hoped
That tomorrow I might die. The Beast is gone,
And with it went my passion.
PSYCHE.
Not all love is fire.
LIVIA.
Brontes’ was. And like all fire dies.
PSYCHE.
Surely, no. My sacrifice was not in vain.
DAREIA.
Your sacrifice, Psyche? And what of mine?
So great was my grief when my father died
That I lost my child and have not borne another.
PSYCHE.
I am sorry for your grief, and for the grief of Chrysos.
CHRYSOS.
The grief of Chrysos was nothing compared to Dareia’s.
She mourned that you, her sister, most beautiful, divine,
Should have with your own hands murdered Thanos.
PSYCHE.
I murder Thanos? I murder my own father?
‘Twas not myself did murder him, but Da –
DAREIA.
Psyche, you did flee for shame of what you did.
LIVIA.
Aye, as she fled when you, Dareia, killed Father.
As I fled when you strangled your own son.
CHRYSOS.
What’s this? Dareia, say she speaks not true.
DAREIA.
A woman’s grief, husband. A mother’s grief!
I freed us from the Beast. I did all for Love!
CHRYSOS.
Love to lie? Love to kill our only child?
DAREIA.
For us, Chrysos. You would have loved our son
More than I. For I conceived while the Beast
Did reign. What world is this to raise a child in?
All I did I did in Love’s own name!
Even so, you never look on me with love.
Am I so stretched, so used, so worn that you despise me?
CHRYSOS.
No, I am ever faithful to you, wife.
LIVIA.
So he faithful whispers ev’ry night we lie entwined.
DAREIA.
You lie – with Chrysos? You, Livia, who claim
That your own husband ne’er deflowered you?
BRONTES.
Nor did he.
LIVIA.
Nor does he care.
BRONTES.
O, I do care.
LIVIA.
Care if you will, I care not. I am happy!
I have a right to be happy in any way I can!
In this cruel, unnatural world I’ll take my solace
In any outstretched arms.
DAREIA.
Even those not empty?
CHRYSOS.
O, I have been empty,
and now I know why!
BRONTES.
And I unhappy, and now haply know why!
(They nearly come to blows.)
PSYCHE.
My brothers, no! You will shed no blood today!
Put out the lamp. Truths are best left unsaid
If those truths will lay you in Hades’ bed.
LIVIA.
O, she is a Beast indeed, to make us speak
Our secrets so much against our will!
Why did you not strike her when you had the chance?
Give me the arrow; I’ll do it now!
BRONTES.
She is no beast.
LIVIA.
Beware me, husband. I’ll take your other eye.
CHRYSOS.
Strike! Strike, my love!
DAREIA.
Be silent, Chrysos!
PSYCHE.
Will you strike me down, Livia? Dareia?
Chrysos? Brontes? Well! I’ve given you no cause.
For love of you, I sacrificed my body
And bound myself to a husband I have not seen –
DAREIA.
To a Beast, you mean. To a monster, to a man.
LIVIA.