Psyche was now alone with her thoughts. The solitude tossed in her grief like the waves of the sea. She lost her head and began to banish all her spouse's warnings and her own promises. After all, her sisters had made some solid stabs. It was true that she had never seen her lover's face, and she had no knowledge whatsoever of what her companion was. She merely heard the voice and was constantly warned against seeing what the owner of it looks like, and threatened with great disaster if she showed curiosity. What if her sisters' warning was genuine?But the only way to know it was to see. And as dusk began to fill the sky, Psyche got up and poured the oil into a well-trimmed wick. Then she concealed it beneath the cover of an enclosing jar. Though her plan was formed and her determination fixed, she still faltered in the uncertainty of purpose. Her heart was torn between many impulses of her unhappy plight.Then the grief-stricken maiden waited for her love to enter th

As Psyche wandered one day, she saw a lofty temple perched on the peak of a high mountain."Perhaps this is where I can perform my prayers to my beloved," she said to herself. Then she turned her steps thither. Her feet were utterly weary from her unremitting labors, but her hope and aspiration quickened them. She mounted the higher ridges with a stout heart and drew close to the sacred altar.There she saw ears of wheat in a heap, and others were woven into a garland, and ears of barley as well. There were sickles lying close by and a whole array of harvesting tools, but they were in a jumbled and neglected heap, thrown carelessly by workmen's hands in summer-time.Psyche carefully sorted them out and ordered them in separate piles, no doubt she reflected that she should not neglect t

Psyche drew near the temple of Venus, endeavoring to fortify her mind while ruminating on her fate. The end was doubtful and perhaps fatal.At the door, she saw the goddess's priestesses, who did not have to be chaste, although they were required to be fairly attractive and shall often settle down with someone they believe to be their One True Love, to whom they shall be faithful unless a stronger True Love comes along.Before she could utter a word, the priestess named Consueto confronted her, crying in disgust."Most wicked of all women, have you at last begun to realize that you have upset Venus? Or are you still pretending to be unaware of the exhausting efforts we have endured in search of you?""Here I am now, priestess," Psyche

The journey to the Underworld began at the crack of dawn. Advised by the mysterious voice, Psyche headed on foot towards Sparta, crossing the countryside, going through the wood to Taenarus. There she found the breathing-vent of the Underworld.The entrance to the lower world was a shadowy cave. The pathway snaked down into the gloomy land. Psyche took a deep breath and entered it. The gates were open, but she did not advance to that dark kingdom empty-handed. Dangling in her bag were barley-cakes baked in sweet wine.The soil of the land was black as soot and harsh with rough terrain. As she was told by the voice, she found a cart with a lame donkey carrying a load of logs along the path. The driver likewise lame turned and looked at her with hollow eyes. His face was long with pale and leathery skin. Psyche felt a chill rush down her

In the great throne room where the stars sailed over every corner of the world, a terrible roar struck like thunder.Cronus, the Titan lord of time, wielded his scythe and gave a mighty blow that ripped through the heart of his father Oranos, the Heaven."Your reign is now mine, Father," Cronus laughed as he stood towering over his dying sire. Oranos spit out golden blood regretted his love for this treacherous son, and thus the dying Oranos had prophesied saying, "You murder me now, and steal my throne, but one of your own sons will dethrone you, for crime begets crime."The sky trembled and the earth shook as if to give the terrible curse its effect. Cronus grimaced at the god's prophecy. He knew deep in his heart of heart that what his father said would come to pass. In a fit of rag