had shown me how. But I was afraid, lest, if I should happen to perform them, in imitation of human beings, without the aid of a master, most people would think that it portended sinister events, and that I, as a monster and prodigy, might have to part with my head, and be given as fat provender to the vultures.

And now my renown was spread abroad in all directions, so that I rendered my master quite famous and illustrious, in consequence of my wonderful accomplishments. "This," said the people, "is the man who has an ass for his guest and companion; an ass that wrestles, an ass that dances, and understands the language of men, and expresses what he means by signs." It is proper, however, that I should now, at all events, inform you, though I ought to have done so in the beginning, who this Thyasus was, and whence he came; for such was the name of my master. The country which gave him birth was Corinth, a city which ranks as the chief of all the provinces of Achaia. And, as he had gradually attained all the honors which his pedigree and dignity demanded, he had now been nominated to the office of quinquennial magistrate. Accordingly, in order that he might act conformably to the splendor of that office, he had promised to exhibit a show of gladiators for the space of three days, thus extending his liberality to the greatest possible degree. In fact, it was his desire of receiving the public applause that had now brought him to Thessaly, in order to procure from thence the most noble wild beasts and some celebrated gladiators.

And now, having made all his arrangements and completed all his purchases quite to his satisfaction, he was preparing to return home. Disdaining, however, his own splendid chariots, which, some covered and some open, were drawn along in the rear of the cavalcade; regardless also of his Thessalian horses, and his other beasts of Gallic breed, whose generous pedigree bore testimony to their rarity and value; despising and neglecting all these, he rode most lovingly on me, who was decked out with golden trappings, a colored saddle, purple cloths, a silver bit, an embroidered girth, and some little bells that tinkled as I went along, and sometimes he addressed me

in the kindest of words. Among many other expressions too which he made use of, he declared how extremely delighted he was at possessing in me, at one and the same time, a companion and a bearer.

And now, having finished our journey, partly by land and partly by sea, we arrived at Corinth, where vast numbers of the citizens came out to meet us, not so much as it seemed to me for the purpose of doing honor to Thyasus, as from a desire of seeing me. For so great a rumor had pervaded that city about me, that I was a source of no small emolument to my keeper. For perceiving that many were eagerly desirous to see my pastimes, he had the doors shut, and admitted them one by one, charging each a good price for admission. By this means he managed every day to pick up no small sums.

CUPID AND PSYCHE.

THE most beautiful part of the "Metamorphosis" is the story of Cupid and Psyche, which has been elegantly paraphrased in the poetical version of Mrs. Mary Tighe (1773-1810). Venus, finding her altars neglected on account of the charms of Psyche, sends Cupid to punish her, but he falls in love with the maid.

Here Cupid tempers his unerring darts,

And in the fount of bliss delights to play;
Here mingles balmy sighs and pleasing smarts,
And here the honeyed draught will oft allay
With that black poison's all polluting sway,
For wretched man. Hither, as Venus willed,
For Psyche's punishment he bent his way:
From either stream his amber vase he filled,
For her were meant the drops which grief alone distilled.

His quiver, sparkling bright with gems and gold,
From his fair pluméd shoulder graceful hung,
And from its top in brilliant chords enrolled
Each little vase resplendently was slung:
Still as he flew, around him sportive clung
His frolic train of wingéd Zephyrs light,

Wafting the fragrance which his tresses flung:
While odors dropped from every ringlet bright,
And from his blue eyes beamed ineffable delight.

Wrapt in a cloud unseen by mortal eye,
He sought the chamber of the royal maid;
There, lulled by careless soft security,

Of the impending mischief nought afraid,
Upon her purple couch was Psyche laid;
Her radiant eyes a downy slumber sealed;

In light transparent veil alone arrayed,

Her bosom's opening charms were half revealed, And scarce the lucid folds her polished limbs concealed.

A placid smile plays o'er each roseate lip,

Sweet severed lips! while thus your pearls disclose,
That slumbering thus unconscious she may sip
The cruel presage of her future woes!
Lightly, as fall the dews upon the rose,
Upon the coral gates of that sweet cell

The fatal drops he pours; nor yet he knows,
Nor, though a God, can he presaging tell,
How he himself shall mourn the ills of that sad spell!

Nor yet content, he from his quiver drew,

Sharpened with skill divine, a shining dart:
No need had he for bow, since thus too true
His hand might wound her all exposed heart;
Yet her fair side he touched with gentlest art,
And half relenting on her beauties gazed;

Just then awaking with a sudden start,
Her opening eye in humid lustre blazed,
Unseen he still remained, enchanted and amazed.

The dart which in his hand now trembling stood,
As o'er the couch he bent with ravished eye,
Drew with its daring point celestial blood
From his smooth neck's unblemished ivory:
Heedless of this, but with a pitying sigh,

The evil done now anxious to repair,

He shed in haste the balmy drops of joy

O'er all the silky ringlets of her hair;

Then stretched his plumes divine, and breathed celestial air.

Unhappy Psyche! soon the latent wound

The fading roses of her cheek confess,

Her eyes' bright beams, in swimming sorrows drowned,
Sparkle no more with life and happiness,
Her parents' fond exulting heart to bless;
She shuns adoring crowds, and seeks to hide

The pining sorrows which her soul oppress,
Till to her mother's tears no more denied,

The secret grief she owns, for which she lingering sighed

A dream of mingled terror and delight

Still heavy hangs upon her troubled soul,
An angry form still swims before her sight,
And still the vengeful thunder seems to roll;
Still crushed to earth she feels the stern control
Of Venus unrelenting, unappeased:

The dream returns, she feels the fancied dole;
Once more the furies on her heart have seized,

But still she views the youth who all her sufferings eased.

Of wondrous beauty did the vision seem,
And in the freshest prime of youthful years;
Such at the close of her distressful dream

A graceful champion to her eyes appears;
Her loved deliverer from her foes and fears
She seems in grateful transport still to press;
Still his soft voice sounds in her ravished

ears;

Dissolved in fondest tears of tenderness,

His form she oft invokes her waking eyes to

bless.

Nor was it quite a dream, for as she woke,

Ere heavenly mists concealed him from her eye,
One sudden transitory view she took

Of Love's most radiant bright divinity;
From the fair image never can she fly,

And still consumed with vain desire she pines;
While her fond parents heave the anxious sigh,
And to avert her fate seek holy shrines

The threatened ills to learn by auguries and signs.

THE FATAL LOOK

COPD vaited Payche saly by night, warning her of the danger of beholding him. But her envious asters by magic at fill her mind with suspicions of evil, and induce her to incur the risk.

On her coid, passive hand the ring they place,

And hide the dagger in her fiding vest;
Pleased the effects of their dire arts to trace

In the mute agony that swells ber breast,
Already in her future ruin biest;

Conscious that now their poor deluded prey
Should never taste again delight or rest,
But sickening in suspicion's gloom decay,
Or urged by terrors rash their treacherous will obey.

While yet irresolute with sad surprise,

'Mid doubt and love she stands in strange suspense,
Lo! gliding from her sisters' wondering eyes
Returning Zephyrs gently bear her thence;
Lost all her hopes, her joys, her confidence,
Back to the earth her mournful eyes she threw,
As if imploring pity and defence;

While bathed in tears, her golden tresses flew,
As in the breeze dispersed they caught the precious dew.

Illumined bright now shines the splendid dome,
Melodious accents her arrival hail :

But not the torches' blaze can chase the gloom,
And all the soothing powers of music fail;
Trembling she seeks her couch with horror pale,
But first a lamp conceals in secret shade,

While unknown terrors all her soul assail.
Thus half their treacherous counsel is obeyed,
For still her gentle soul abhors the murderous blade.

And now, with softest whispers of delight,
Love welcomes Psyche still more fondly dear;
Not unobserved, though hid in deepest night,
The silent anguish of her secret fear.

He thinks that tenderness excites the tear
By the late image of her parents' grief,