Death and Cupid


132. DEATH AND CUPID. Cupid, one sultry summer's noon, tired with play, and faint with heat, went into a cool grotto to repose himself, which happened to be the cave of Death. He threw himself carelessly down on the floor, and his quiver turning topsy-turvy, all the arrows fell out, and mingled with those of Death, which lay scattered up and down the place.
When he awoke he gathered them up as well as he could; but they were so intermingled, that though he knew the certain number, he could not rightly distinguish them; from which it happened that he took some of the arrows which belonged to Death, and left several of his own in the room of them.
This is the cause that we now and then see the hearts of the old and decrepit transfixed with the bolts of Love; and, with equal grief and surprise, behold the youthful, blooming part of our species smitten with the darts of Death. [more info]

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