So, calling Zephyr, she acquainted him with her husband’s commands, and he, promptly obedient, soon brought them across the mountain down to their sister’s valley.  They embraced her and she returned their caresses.  “Come,” said Psyche, “enter with me my house and refresh yourselves with whatever your sister has to offer.”  Then taking their hands she led them into her golden palace, and committed them to the care of her numerous train of attendant voices, to refresh them in her baths and at her table, and to show them all her treasures.  The view of these celestial delights caused envy to enter their bosoms, at seeing their young sister possessed of such state and splendor, so much exceeding their own.

They asked her numberless questions, among others what sort of a person her husband was.  Psyche replied that he was a beautiful youth, who generally spent the daytime in hunting upon the mountains.  The sisters, not satisfied with this reply, soon made her confess that she had never seen him.  Then they proceeded to fill her bosom with dark suspicions.  “Call to mind,” they said, “the Pythian oracle that declared you destined to marry a direful and tremendous monster.  The inhabitants of this valley say that your husband is a terrible and monstrous serpent, who nourishes you for a while with dainties that he may by and by devour you.  Take our advice.  Provide yourself with a lamp and a sharp knife; put them in concealment that your husband may not discover them, and when he is sound asleep, slip out of bed, bring forth your lamp, and see for yourself whether what they say is true or not.  If it is, hesitate not to cut off the monster’s head, and thereby recover your liberty.”

Psyche resisted these persuasions as well as she could, but they did not fail to have their effect on her mind, and when her sisters were gone, their words and her own curiosity were too strong for her to resist.  So she prepared her lamp and a sharp knife, and hid them out of sight of her husband.  When he had fallen into his first sleep, she silently rose and uncovering her lamp beheld not a hideous monster, but the most beautiful and charming of the gods, with his golden ringlets wandering over his snowy neck and crimson cheek, with two dewy wings on his shoulders, whiter than snow, and with shining feathers like the tender blossoms of spring.  As she leaned the lamp over to have a nearer view of his face a drop of burning oil fell on the shoulder of the god, startled with which he opened his eyes and fixed them full upon her; then, without saying one word, he spread his white wings and flew out of the window.  Psyche, in vain endeavoring to follow him, fell from the window to the ground.  Cupid, beholding her as she lay in the dust, stopped his flight for an instant and said, “O foolish Psyche, is it thus you repay my love?  After having disobeyed my mother’s commands and made you my wife, will you think me a monster and cut off my head?  But go; return to your sisters, whose advice you seem to think preferable to mine.  I inflict no other punishment on you than to leave you forever.  Love cannot dwell with suspicion.”  So saying, he fled away, leaving poor Psyche prostrate on the ground, filling the place with mournful lamentations.