Cupid's courtship, or, The celebration of a marriage between the god of love and Psiche

THE FIRST SECTION.

PSiche this while wandred the world about With various errors to find Cupid out, Hoping, although no matrimonial way, Or beauty's force his anger might allay, Yet prayers and duty sometimes do abate, And humble service him propitiate. She travell'd forth, until at length she found A pleasant plain, with a fair Temple crown'd; Then to her self she said, Ah, who can tell Whether or no my husband there do dwell? And with this thought she goes directly on, Led with blind hope and with devotion: Then entring in, she to the Altar bended, And there perform'd her Orizons; which ended, Casting her eyes about, she did espy A world of instruments for husbandry, As Forks, and Hooks, and Rakes, Sickles and Sithes, Garlands, and Shears, and Corn for sacrifice. Those ears that were confused she did sever, And those that scatter'd lay she put together; Thinking she ought no worship to decline Of any thing that seem'd to be divine.

Ceres far off did Psiche over-look, When this laborious task she undertook; And as she is a goddess that does love Industrious people, spake to her from above; Alas, poor Psiche, Venus is thy foe, And strives to find thee out with more ado Then I my Proserpine, the earth, the sea, And the hid confines of the night and day, Have all been ransack'd; she has sought thee forth Through both the Poles and mansions of the North, Not the Riphean snow, nor all the droughth That parches the vast desarts of the south, Have staid her steps: she has made Tethis sweep, To find thee out, the bottom of the deep, And vows that heaven it self shall thee resign, Though Jove had fix'd thee there his concubine. She never rests, for since she went to bed, The rosie Crown is wither'd from her head. Thou careless wretch, thus Venus all enrag'd, Seeks for thy life, whilst thou art here engag'd Bout my affairs, and thinkst of nothing less Then thine own safety and lost happiness. Psiche fell prostrate on her face before Fair Ceres throne, and did her help implore, Moistning the earth with tears, and with her hair Brushing the ground, she sent up many a prayer: By thy fruit-scattering hand I thee entreat, And the Sicilian fields, that are the seat Of thy fertility, and by the glad And happy ends the harvest ever had;

And by thy Coach, with winged Dragons drawn, And by the darksome hell that 'gan to dawn At the bright marriage of fair Proserpine: And by the silent rites of Elusine, Impart some pity, and vouchsafe to grant This small request to your poor suppliant, I may lie hid among these sheaves of corn Until great Venus fury be out-worn; Or that my strength and faculties subdu'd By weary toil, a little be renew'd. But as the world's accustom'd, when they see Any o'rwhelm'd with a deep misery, Afford small comfort to their wretched state, But onely are in words compassionate: So Ceres told her, she did greatly grieve At her distress, but durst her not relieve; For Venus was a good and gracious Queen, And she her favour highly did esteem. Nor would she succour a contrary side, Being by love and kin to her alli'd. Poor Psiche thus repuls'd, soon as she saw Her hopes quite frustrate, did her self with-draw, And journeyed on unto a neighbouring wood, Where likewise a rich Fane and Temple stood, Of goodly structure, and before the house Hung many gifts and garments precious, That by the name engrav'd, and dedication, Express'd without to whom they had relation. Here Psiche enter'd, her low knees did bend, And both her self and fortunes recommend

To mighty Juno, and thus spake to her, Thou wife and sister to the Thunderer, Whether thou dost in antient Samos lie, The place of thy first birth and nursery; Or by the banks of Inacus abide, Or thy lov'd Carthage, or round heaven dost ride Upon a Lion's back; that art i'th' east Call'd Zigia, and Lucina in the west: Look on my grief's extremity, and deign To ease me of my labour and my pain. Thus having pray'd, streight Juno from on high Presents her self in all her Majesty, And said, Psiche, I wish you had your ends, And that my daughter and your self were friends: For Venus I have ever held most dear, In as high place as she my daughter were: Nor can that, which one goddess has begun, By any other Deity b' undone: Besides the Stigian Laws allow no leave, That we another's servant should receive; Nor can we by the league of friendship give Relief to one that is a fugitive. Fair Psiche shipwrack'd in her hopes again, And finding no ways how she might obtain Her winged husband, cast the worst of all, And thus her thoughts did into question call: What means can be attempted or appli'd To this my strange calamity, beside What is already us'd? for though they wood, The gods themselves can render me no good:

Why then should I proceed, and unawares Tender my foot unto so many snares? What darkness can protect me? what disguise Hide me from her inevitable eyes? Some women from their crimes can courage gather, Then why not I from misery? and rather, What I cannot defer, not long withstand, Yield up my self a prisoner to her hand. For timely modesty may mitigate That rage, which absence does exasperate. And to confirm this, who knows whether he, Whom my soul longs for, with his mother be? Venus now sick of earthly business, Commands her Coach be put in readiness: Whose subtil structure was all wrought upon With gold, with purple, and vermillion. Vulcan compos'd the fabrick, 'twas the same He gave his wife when he a wooing came. Then of those many hundred Doves that soar About her palace, she selected four, Whose checker'd necks to the small traces ti'd, With nimble gyres they up to heaven did glide: A world of Sparrows did by Venus flie, And Nightingales that sung melodiously; And other birds accompani'd her Coach, With pleasant noise proclaiming her approach: For neither hardy Eagle, Hawk, nor Kite, Durst her sweet sounding family afright. The clovvds gave vvay, and heaven vvas open made Whilst Venus Joves high turrets did invade.

Then having silenc'd her obsterperous quire, She boldly calls for Mercury the crier, Joves messenger, who but a while before Return'd with a loose arrant, which be bore To a new Mistress, and was now t' advise Upon some trick, to hide from Juno's eyes Joves baudery, for he such fears can do, Which are his vertues, and his office to. When Venus saw him, she much joy did show, And said, kind brother Mercury, you know, How I esteem your love, at no small rate, With whom my mind I still communicate: Without whose counsel I have nothing done, But still preferr'd your admonition. And now you must assist me; there's a maid Lies hid, whom I have long time sought, and laid Close wait to apprehend, but cannot take; Therefore I'de have you proclamation make, With a reward propounded, to requite, Who e're shall bring, and set her in my fight. Make known her marks, and age, lest any chance, Or after dare to protend ignorance. Thus having said, she gave to him a note, And libell, wherein Psiche's name was wrote. Hermes the powerful, and al-charming god Taking in hand his soul constraining rod, With which he carries, and brings back from hell, With Venus went, for he lov'd Venus well; 'Cause he in former time her love had won, And in his dalliance, had of her son

Begot, call'd the Hermaphrodite, which is The Boy, that was belov'd by Salmacis. Thus both from heaven descended, open cry, In express words, was made by Mercury.

O yes, if any can true tidings bring Of Venus hand-maid, daughter to a King, Psiche the fugitive, of stature tall, Of tender age, and form celestial: To whom, for dowry, Art and Nature gave All grace, and all the comliness they have. This I was bid to say, and be it spoken Without all envy, each smile is a token Sufficient to betray her. In her gate She Phoebus sister does most imitate. Nor does her voice sound mortal, if you spy Her face, you may discern her by the eye, That like a star, dazels the Optick sense, Cupid has oft his Torch brought lighted thence. If any find her out, let him repair Straight ways to Mercury, and the news declare; And for his recompence, he shall have leave, Even from Venus own lips, to receive Seven fragrant kisses, and the rest among, One honey-kisse, and one touch from her tongue.

Which being published, the great desire Of this reward, set all mens hearts on fire. So that poor Psiche durst no more forbear To offer up her self: then drawing near

To Venus house, a Maid of hers, by name. Call'd Custome, when she saw her, did exclaime, O Madam Psiche, Jove your honour save: What do you feel now, you a Mistress have? Or does your rashness, or your ignorant worth Not know the pains we took to find you forth? Sweet, you shall for your stubborness be taught: With that rude hold upon her locks she caught, And drag'd her in, and before Venus brought.