Once upon a time, the king who had three beautiful daughters, but the youngest daughter is the most beautiful. Her name is Psyche. The fame of her beauty spread over the earth, and everywhere men journeyed to gaze upon her with wonder and adoration and to do her homage as though she were in truth one of the immortals. Everyone interested in the beauty of Psyche therefore no one any more gave a thought to Venus herself. That made the goodness was angry and she turned for help to her son, Cupid. She told him her wrongs and as always he was ready to do her bidding. “Use your power,” she said, “and make the hussy fall madly in love with the vilest and most despicable creature there is in the whole world.” And so no doubt he would have done, If Venus had showed in him Psyche. As he looked upon her it was as if he had shot one of his arrows into his own heart.
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However, Psyche did not fall in love with a horrible wretch, she did not fall in love at all and no one fall in love with her. It seemed that no one man wanted her. This was, of course, finally her father traveled to an oracle of Apollo to ask his advice on how to get her a good husband. The god answered him, but his words were terrible. Cupid had told him the whole story and had begged for his help. Accordingly Apollo said that Psyche, dressed in deepest mourning, must be set on the summit of rocky hill and left alone, and that there her destined husband, a fearful winged serpent, stronger than the gods themselves, would come to her and make her his wife.
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When Psyche’ father brought back this lamentable news, they dressed the maiden as though for her death and carried her to the hill with greater sorrowing than if it had been to her tomb. But Psyche herself kept her courage. They went in despairing grief, leaving the lovely helpless creature to meet her doom alone.