Book IX, 440: Fugitive Love

Cypris cried loudly her lost son Love. “If anyone hath seen Love straying in the cross-roads, he is my fugitive child, and the informer shall be rewarded. The reward is a kiss from Cypris; and if you bring him, not a mere kiss, stranger, but something besides. ‘The boy is easily recognisable ; you could tell him among twenty. His complexion is not pale, but like to fire. His eyes are piercing and aflame. Evil is his heart, but sweet his speech, for what he has in his mind he speaks not. His voice is like honey, but if he grow wrath his spirit cannot be tamed. A cozener he is, never speaking the truth; a cunning child, and the games he plays are savage. Plenty of hair on his head, and he has a most forward face. His hands are tiny, but they shoot far; they shoot as far as Acheron and the King of Hades. Naked is his body, but his mind is wrapped up well. Like a winged bird he flies to one man and woman after another, and perches on their vitals. He has a very small bow, and on the bow an arrow; little is his arrow, but it flies even to heaven. He bears a golden quiver on his back, and in it are the bitter shafts with which he often wounds even me. All about him is savage, all, and worst of all his torch; it is but a little brand, and sets fire to the Sun himself. If you catch him, bring him bound and have no mercy on him. If you see him crying, mind he does not take you in; and if he smiles, drag him; and if he wants to kiss you, run away, for his kiss is evil and his lips are poison. And if he says ‘Take these, I give you all my weapons,’ touch not the deceitful gifts, for they are all dipped in fire.”