Cupid, one sultry summer's noon, tired with his play, and faint with heat, went into a cool cave to repose himself.
This cave happened to be the cave of Death.
The Cupid threw himself carelessly down upon the floor, and his quiver turning upside down, had all the arrows fall out and mingled with those of Death, which lay scattered all about the place.
When the cupid awoke, he started to gather his arrows, since they were so intermingled that although the cupid knew the correct number to take, he could not rightly distinguish his own. Hence he took up some of the arrows which belonged to Death and left some of his own in the cave.
For this reason, we now and then see the hearts of the old and decrepit transfixed with the bolts of Love, and with great grief and surprise sometimes see youth and beauty smitten with the darts of Death.
Moral: Death and Love strike unexpectedly.
