tacita secreta cistarum et per famulorum tuorum draconum pinnata curricula et glebac Siculae
sulcamina
et currum rapacem
et terram tenacem
et inluminarum Proserpinae nuptiarum demeacula
et luminosarum filiae inuentionum remeacula
et cetera quae silentio tegit Eleusinis Atticae sacrarium, miserandae Psyches animae supplicis
tuae subsiste. (6. 2)
I beseech you, by your right hand that bears the fruits of the earth, by your joyful ceremonies of
harvest, by the unspoken secrets of your baskets, by the winged cars of the dragons your servants,
by the furrows of the Sicilian soil, by the chariot that seized your daughter and the earth that held
her, by the descent of Proserpine to a wedding unlighted by torches, by her ascent when she was
found by the light of torches, by all else that the shrine of Eleusis in the land of Athens shrouds in
silence, help the pitiable soul of Psyche, your suppliant.
Apuleius' rococo glitter is at its most dazzling in the story of Cupid and Psyche. On one level this is a fairy story,
rich in folk-tale motifs, and opening with a disarming simplicity (4.28): 'In a certain country there lived a king
and queen' (it comes as small surprise that Psyche is the youngest and fairest of their three daughters, more
lovely than Venus herself). On another level the tale hints at quasi-Platonic allegory: the marriage of Psyche, the
soul, with Cupido, fleshly desire. On a third level the story is a comedy in the Ovidian manner, with Olympian
goddesses constrained by the laws and etiquette of contemporary Rome; and on yet a fourth level it is the ne plus
ultra of bejeweled preciosity. One of the virtues of Apuleius' high fantastical style is that it enables him to drift
among these different levels of discourse.