Psyche had been going from town to town looking for Cupid without success. On this particular day, she was walking through the countryside when she saw a temple high atop a steep hill. Thinking Cupid might be there, she made the arduous climb and went inside.
She was surprised to see sheaves of wheat, ears of barley and corn, scattered across the temple floor. Perhaps the strong winds of a storm had blown the offerings from the altar.
Psyche thought this must be a temple devoted to the worship of Ceres, the goddess responsible for the fruits of the earth. Hoping the goddess would take pity on her and tell her where to find Cupid, Psyche began cleaning up, sorting the offerings into groups and arranging them neatly.
It just so happened that Ceres had come to Earth that day to visit the very temple Psyche was tidying.
“Poor child,” Ceres said softly, as she came inside and saw Psyche. “Venus is very angry with you. In all eternity, I have never seen her so furious. She wants to take revenge on you for loving her son. I am moved deeply that you have taken the time to neaten my temple when you should be hiding in fear of your life.”
Psyche prostrated herself at the goddess’s feet and began weeping. “Oh, Goddess! By all that is sacred to you—the corn and grains of the fields, the rites of planting and harvest—in the name of your daughter Proserpine, who was taken by the god of the dead to his terrible realm, along with the green of the land and warmth of the sun, but who returns for six months each year, bringing with her light and joy and the fruition of the earth, I implore you to allow me to hide here until the wrath of the goddess Venus subsides.”
“Ah, child. Your plight brings sorrow to my heart. I wish I could help you, but Venus is my niece and, despite herself, one of my dearest friends. I cannot offer you shelter here. In fact, I must ask you to leave at once. I shudder to think what will happen if Venus ever learns that you were in my presence and I did not bring you to her. You must go this instant.”
Psyche left, sadder now than when she had come.
As she came down from the mountain, she saw, in the valley below, another temple hidden in a grove of trees. Offerings of beautiful scarves and gowns hung from tree branches and the temple doorposts. Psyche recognized that she was at a temple devoted to Juno. Surely, if any goddess would come to her aid, it would be the goddess of women and childbirth. Was not Psyche a woman? Was she not pregnant with a child by a god?
Psyche went inside and began to pray: “Goddess of childbirth, who is also known as Juno the Protectress. Please guard me and keep me from danger. I am very, very tired. I have wandered for days, lost and afraid. But you, Goddess, you help women who are pregnant, and I am with child. Please protect me and the child I carry within me.”
Juno appeared in response to Psyche’s prayer. “Oh, dear child! It would give me the deepest pleasure to protect you. Alas, divine etiquette does not permit me. I cannot go against the wishes of Venus. She’s married to my son and I’ve loved her as if she were my own child. Now, I must ask you to leave at once. I shudder to think how deeply hurt Venus would be if she knew you stood in my presence and I did not have you brought to her.”
Psyche left Juno’s temple more despondent than ever. If two such powerful goddesses turned their backs on her, what was she to do? With tears pouring down her face, she knew the answer. She had to submit to Venus and hope the goddess would be merciful.