One day as I was straying in the woods of Idalia with the young Cephisa, I stumbled upon Cupid, who lay sleeping on the flowers beneath a few branches of myrtle that gently yielded to the breath of the zephyrs. The little Smiles and Sports, that are ever in his train, had gone to frolic at a distance and he was alone. I had him in my power; his bow and his quiver were at his side and if I had chosen I might have stolen the arms of Cupid. Cephisa seized the bow of the greatest of the gods. She fixed in it an arrow, without my perceiving her and shot it at me. I smiled and said to her.
"Take another Cephisa and give me another wound; that is too gentle."
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She was preparing another arrow when it fell upon her foot and she gave a slight cry; it was the heaviest arrow in the quiver of love. She took it up and let it fly at me. It struck me and I was conquered.
"Ah! Cephisa! are you resolved then on my death!"
She drew near to Cupid. "He sleeps soundly," said she, "he is fatigued with shooting his arrows; we must gather flowers and tie his hands and feet."
"Ah! I can never consent to that," said I, "for he has always favoured us."
"I will take his weapons then," said she, "and shoot at him with all my strength."
"But he will awake," said I.
"Let him," she replied, "what can he do but wound us still more?"
"No, no, let him lie there; we will remain near him and we shall feel our flame increase."
Cephisa then took some roses and myrtle leaves: "I will cover him with these," said she "and the Smiles and the Sports will seek for him but will not find him."
She strewed them over him and she laughed to see the little god almost buried. "But why am I trifling?" said she. "I must cut his wings, that there may no longer be any false and fickle men in the world; for the little god flies from heart to heart and plants levity and inconstancy everywhere."
She sat down, she took out her scissors and held with one hand the tips of Love's gilded pinions. I felt my heart shrink for fear.
"Stop, Cephisa."
"Ah! Cephisa! are you resolved then on my death!"
She drew near to Cupid. "He sleeps soundly," said she, "he is fatigued with shooting his arrows; we must gather flowers and tie his hands and feet."
"Ah! I can never consent to that," said I, "for he has always favoured us."
"I will take his weapons then," said she, "and shoot at him with all my strength."
"But he will awake," said I.
"Let him," she replied, "what can he do but wound us still more?"
"No, no, let him lie there; we will remain near him and we shall feel our flame increase."
Cephisa then took some roses and myrtle leaves: "I will cover him with these," said she "and the Smiles and the Sports will seek for him but will not find him."
She strewed them over him and she laughed to see the little god almost buried. "But why am I trifling?" said she. "I must cut his wings, that there may no longer be any false and fickle men in the world; for the little god flies from heart to heart and plants levity and inconstancy everywhere."
She sat down, she took out her scissors and held with one hand the tips of Love's gilded pinions. I felt my heart shrink for fear.
"Stop, Cephisa."
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She heard me not; she cut off the tips of Cupid's wings, let fall her scissors and ran away.
When Cupid awoke he wished to fly, but felt a weight which was new to him. He saw the tips of his wings lying upon the flowers and began to weep.
Jupiter, observing him from the summit of Olympus, sent a cloud which carried him to the palace of Gnidus and laid him in the lap of Venus.
"Mother," said he, "I used to flutter with my wings on your bosom but they have been cut, alas and what will become of me!"
"My son," said the fair Cypris, "do not weep; stay where you are, do not move from my bosom. Its heat will make your pinions grow again; do you not already see that they are longer? Kiss me, they grow, you will soon have them as they were before. Now I see the tips acquiring their golden colour again in another instant enough, fly, fly, my child."
"Yes," said he, "I will venture."
He flew; he lighted at her side but instantly returned to her bosom. He resumed his flight, he settled at a greater distance and again returned to the bosom of Venus. He embraced her, she smiled upon him. He embraced her again and toyed with her. At last he rose into the air, whence he now reigns over all nature.
Cupid, to be revenged of Cephisa, has made her the most fickle of the fair. He makes her burn every day with a new flame. She loved me; she loved Daphnis and now she loves Cleon. Cruel Cupid! It is I you punish. I am willing to suffer for her crime, but may you not have other torments to afflict me with?
"Mother," said he, "I used to flutter with my wings on your bosom but they have been cut, alas and what will become of me!"
"My son," said the fair Cypris, "do not weep; stay where you are, do not move from my bosom. Its heat will make your pinions grow again; do you not already see that they are longer? Kiss me, they grow, you will soon have them as they were before. Now I see the tips acquiring their golden colour again in another instant enough, fly, fly, my child."
"Yes," said he, "I will venture."
He flew; he lighted at her side but instantly returned to her bosom. He resumed his flight, he settled at a greater distance and again returned to the bosom of Venus. He embraced her, she smiled upon him. He embraced her again and toyed with her. At last he rose into the air, whence he now reigns over all nature.
Cupid, to be revenged of Cephisa, has made her the most fickle of the fair. He makes her burn every day with a new flame. She loved me; she loved Daphnis and now she loves Cleon. Cruel Cupid! It is I you punish. I am willing to suffer for her crime, but may you not have other torments to afflict me with?
Written by Charles-Louis de Secondat, Baron de La Brède et de Montesquieu (1689-1755) and first published in 1725. Illustrations by Angelika Kauffman (1741–1807).
