Psyche's Wedding. Sir Edward Burne-Jones, 1833-1898
The story of Psyche's Wedding is a myth of Greek origin, and runs as follows: A certain king in the west country had three beautiful daughters. The youngest was by far the most beautiful; so beautiful, indeed, that she received homage from men which was due to Venus alone. The anger of the goddess was aroused against her, and the maiden herself became unhappy because, due to her awesome beauty, no one sought her in marriage. The King, her father, inquired of the Oracle of Apollo what should be done. The story is told in Walter Pater's Marius the Epicurean, from which the following extract is taken:
“And Apollo answered him thus: ‘Let the damsel be placed on the top of a certain mountain, adorned as for the bed of marriage and of death. Look not for a son-in-law of mortal birth but for that evil serpent-thing by reason of whom even the gods tremble and the shades of Styx are afraid.’ So the king returned home and made known the oracle to his wife. For many days she lamented, but at last the fulfillment of the divine precept is urgent upon her, and the company make ready to conduct the maiden to her deadly bridal. And now the nuptial torch gathers dark smoke and ashes, the pleasant sound of the pipe is changed into a cry, the marriage hymn concludes in a sorrowful wailing, below her yellow wedding veil, the bride shook away her tears; insomuch that the whole city was afflicted together at the ill-luck of the stricken household.... she was silent, and with firm step went on her way, and they proceeded to the appointed place on a steep mountain and left there the maiden alone and took their way homeward dejectedly.” It was Cupid, however, not a monster, who welcomed the sorrowful maiden, and after many adventures, Psyche found happiness.
Silver and Green. Hilda Fearon, English, ?-1917
In this cheerful painting, representing two little girls seated at a breakfast table flooded with the bright, clear light of a summer morning, the real theme which has engaged the artist is nothing more nor less than light itself. The tablecloth and window curtains half in sunlight, half in luminous shadow, and the shining glassware and silver urn are ably painted. The green of the garden and the yellow-green of sundrenched lawn are seen through the window echoed in the interior by daffodills, lemons and lime juice bottle, while happy touches of blue appear in the china and one of the frocks. Silver and Green was painted 1913, and was awarded Honorable Mention at the International Exhibition in Pittsburg in 1914.