"'Twas a Sunday morning; far away resounded the joyous sound of bells and the joyous chants of the crowd.... Sacrilege! The savage Count of the Rhine has winded his horn.
"Halloo! Halloo! The chase rushes over corn-fields, moors, and meadows.—'Stop, Count, I entreat you; hear the pious chants!'—No! Halloo! Halloo!—'Stop, Count, I implore you; take care!'—No! and the riders rush on like a whirlwind.
"Suddenly the Count is alone; his horse refuses to go on; the Count would wind his horn, but the horn no longer sounds.... A dismal, implacable voice curses him: 'Sacrilegious man,' it cries, 'be forever hunted by Hell!'
"Then flames flash all around him.... The Count, terror-stricken, flees faster and ever faster, pursued by a pack of demons, ... by day across abysses, by night through the air." [58]
In the music there is first a portrayal of the serene Sabbath landscape, the chanting chorus; there is pealing of bells, and the sacred song rises to a climax.
Then follows the entry of the ribald huntsmen, led by the Count; the chase is pictured, and we hear the complaints of the protesting peasants.
The Count, suddenly left alone, attempts in vain to wind his horn; then, in uncanny and terrifying tones, the curse is pronounced.
The Infernal Chase begins, there are wild horn calls; the pace grows more and more precipitous until the close.
SUITE, "PSYCHE" [59]
- PSYCHE'S SLEEP (Sommeil de Psyché)
- PSYCHE BORNE AWAY BY THE ZEPHYRS (Psyché enlevée par les Zéphirs)
- THE GARDENS OF CUPID (Les Jardins d'Eros)
- PSYCHE AND CUPID (Psyché et Eros)
Franck composed in 1887-88 a symphony for chorus and orchestra entitled "Psyché," the text of which is credited to Messrs. Sicard and Fourchard. In 1900 four parts of the work, written for orchestra alone, were extracted and published in the form of a suite, with the titles quoted above.
The tale of Cupid and Psyche, as told by Apuleius in "The Golden Ass," has been thus admirably paraphrased by Mr. H. E. Krehbiel:
"Psyche was a mortal, the daughter of a king, whose beauty was so great that she received the homage, almost the worship, which was the due of Venus. Wherefore the goddess resolved to revenge herself upon the proud beauty, and asked her son, Cupid, to inspire in her a passion for a low-born creature unworthy of her. Then should Psyche be humiliated and Venus come into her rights again. Cupid set out to obey his mother's injunctions. Finding the maiden asleep in her chamber, he anointed her lips with the bitter water from one of the fountains in Venus's garden, and touched her side with the point of his magic arrow. When she opened her eyes she could not see the god, who had made himself invisible, but he could see her, and the sight of her loveliness so unnerved him that he unwittingly wounded himself with his own arrow. To make as much reparation as possible he emptied his amber jar of sweet water over all her ringlets. But Venus's wishes came near fulfilment. Psyche did not become enamoured of a boor, but of all her admirers none came with offerings of love and marriage. Fearing that the anger of the gods had been incurred by them, her parents consulted the oracle of Apollo, and were told that their daughter should have no mortal lover. Her future husband, a monster irresistible to both gods and men, awaited her at the top of a high mountain. Great was their grief, but Psyche offered willingly to make expiation for having received honors which belonged only to the immortal queen of love and beauty. She was led to the summit of the mountain and left to her fate. Thence came Zephyrus, and carried her gently to a flowery vale in the midst of which stood a magnificent palace. She became its mistress. Invisible hands administered abundantly to all her wants, filled her mouth with nectareous food and wines, and her ears with music. Every night she was visited by him whom the oracle said was to be her husband, but she saw him not. He came only in the darkness of the night, and disappeared before the break of day. She begged for a sight of him whose words of love had aroused a deep passion within her, but he refused. It was Cupid, who wanted to be loved as an equal, not worshipped as a god.
"But when Psyche's sisters heard of her great happiness they filled her mind with doubt and misgivings, and persuaded her to disobey her strange visitor's commands. Perhaps he was a hideous monster who would in time devour her. At night, when he was fast asleep, she uncovered her lamp and gazed, not upon a monster, but upon the loveliest of visions. A god lay before her with golden ringlets clustering about his white neck and ruddy cheeks, and snowy wings on his shoulders. She leaned over him for a closer view, and a drop of burning oil fell upon his glistening skin. He awoke, and without a word spread his wings and flew out of the window. With him vanished palace and gardens. Day and night Psyche wandered about seeking her lost love. She found herself in the temple of Ceres, whose pity she awakened, and who told her to surrender herself to Venus and seek to win her forgiveness. Voluntarily she submitted to become the slave of the goddess, who imposed cruel and impossible tasks upon her, but she performed them all, with supernatural aid extended by Cupid. At last the god himself, recovered from his wound, and, unable to endure the separation longer, made supplication to Jupiter, who pleaded the cause of the lovers with Venus, and won her consent to their union. Thereupon he sent Mercury to the maiden with a cup of ambrosia, which, drinking, she became immortal, and was united forever to Cupid."