"By the way," asked the eldest sister, "the lord, your husband--what manner of man is he? You told us; but I have forgotten." And so had poor Psyche forgotten what she had told them. So she said, this time:-- "He is a middle-aged man, with a big beard, and a few gray hairs sprinkled here and there. He is a merchant, and travels into distant countries, or no doubt he would have been here to give you welcome." "Oh, you poor innocent!" said the sister. "As if he could be young and middle-aged, bearded and beardless, a merchant and a hunter! It's plain you've never seen that husband of yours, and no wonder he wouldn't let you. For _we_ have--we, who spend our lives in watching over your interests," she went on, squeezing out a hypocritical tear. "Your husband is an enormous dragon, with many folds and coils, a neck swollen with poison, and huge gaping jaws. Think of the oracle, you poor, dear, deluded girl. He is only feeding you up with delicacies in order to eat you. Well--if you like the prospect, _we_ have done _our_ duty. And when you are eaten up, you won't be able to say _we_ didn't tell you so." Psyche was aghast with dismay. She trusted her sisters: there was the oracle: and it was certainly mysterious that her husband had never allowed her to look upon him. "Oh! what _shall_ I do?" she cried. "Do? Why, there's only one thing to do. We have thought it all out for you. Here is a lamp. Light it and hide it under a piece of tapestry. When the monster sleeps, uncover the lamp, and throw the light full upon him. Then take this knife, which has been well sharpened, and sever his head from his body. Thus the world will be freed from a curse, and you will be saved." Thereupon they left her. And how shall Psyche's feelings be described? Was it possible she was the wife of a horrible dragon? Promise or no promise, that she must know. So she hid the lighted lamp, as directed. The night came and her husband with it. When he had fallen into a deep sleep, Psyche, with naked feet, crept noiselessly across the floor, drew off the tapestry, and flooded the room with light, and she saw-- A dragon? No--Cupid himself, asleep in all his beauty, with folded wings, and his bow and arrows by his side. She hung over him in love and wonder. Alas! a drop of oil from the lamp fell upon him, and scalded his shoulder. He woke, cast a look of reproach and sorrow upon poor faithless Psyche, seized his bow and arrows, spread his wings, and flew. She, overwhelmed with penitence for her disobedience and distrust, and desperate at the thought of losing him, clung with both hands to one of his feet, and was thus carried through the window and far away through the night till her strength failed her and she fell fainting to the ground.