--Of all nights
this appeared to him the longest.
this appeared to him the longest.
Scriptori Erotici Graeci
Plut.
788; also a passage in Xen. Hell. vi. 11. 6. ]
[Footnote 34: In the P. V. of Æschylus, l. 732, Prometheus tells Io;
"Ἔσται δὲ θνητοΐς εἰσαεὶ λόγος μέγας
Tῆς σῆς πορείας, Βόσπορος δ' ἐπώνυμος
Κεκλήσεται. "
The true etymology however is to be found in the signification of βοῦς
and ἵππος--which in composition means size. ]
[Footnote 35: See ch. 2. ]
[Footnote 36: θρῆνος τῶν βοῶν ἐπὶ βουκόλῳ.
Theocritus in Idyll, i. 74, represents the herds as mourning their
master's death--
"Πολλαί oι πὰρ ποσσί βόες, πολλοὶ δέ τε ταῦροι,
Πολλαὶ δ' αὖ δαμάλαι καὶ πόρτιες ὠδύραντο--"
]
[Footnote 37: παρὰ τοῖς λησταὶς, . . . τὸ ἔρωτος ληστήριον--]
BOOK II.
It was now the middle of autumn:--the vintage[1] was at hand, and every
one was busy in the fields. One[2] prepared the wine-presses, another
cleansed the casks, and another twisted the osiers into baskets.
Each had a separate employ--in providing short pruning hooks, to cut
the grapes; or a heavy stone, to pound them; or dry vine branches,
previously well bruised, to serve as torches, so that the must might be
carried away at night.
Daphnis and Chloe neglected for a time their flocks and mutually
assisted one another. He carried the clusters in baskets, threw them
into the wine-presses, trod them, and drew off the wine into casks;
she prepared their meals for the grape-gatherers, brought old wine
for their drink, and plucked off the lowest bunches. Indeed, all the
vines in Lesbos were of lowly growth, and instead of shooting upwards,
or twining around trees, they spread their branches downwards, which
trailed along, like ivy, so close to the ground, that even an infant
might reach the fruit.
The women, who, according to the custom at this festival of Bacchus,
and birth of the vine, were called from the neighbouring villages to
lend their assistance, all cast their eyes upon Daphnis, and exclaimed
that he was equal in beauty to Bacchus himself. One of the most forward
of these wenches gave him a kiss, which inflamed Daphnis, but sadly
grieved poor Chloe.
On the other hand, the men who were treading the wine-press indulged
in all manner of jests about Chloe, they danced round her as furiously
as so many Bacchanals round a Bacchante, and exclaimed that they would
gladly become sheep to be fed by her hand. These compliments delighted
Chloe, but tormented poor Daphnis.
Each of them wished the vintage over, that they might return to their
usual haunts, and instead of this discordant din might hear the sound
of their pipe, and the bleating of their sheep. In a few days the vines
were stript,--the casks were filled,--there was no longer any need of
more hands, they therefore drove their flocks to the plain. In the
first place, with sincere delight they went to pay their adoration
to the Nymphs, and carried vine-branches with clusters of grapes on
them, as first-fruit offerings from the vintage. Indeed, they never
had hitherto passed by the Grotto without some token of respect, but
always saluted them as they passed by with their flocks to their
morning pasture, and when they returned in the evening, they paid their
adoration, and presented, as an offering, either a flower, or some
fruit, or a green leaf, or a libation of milk. This piety, as we shall
see, had in the end its due reward. At the time we speak of, like young
hounds just let loose, they leaped about, they piped, they sang, and
wrestled and played with their goats and sheep.
While thus sporting and enjoying themselves, an old man, clothed in a
coarse coat of skin, with shoes of undressed leather on his feet, and
with a wallet (which, by the by, was a very old one) at his back, came
up, seated himself near them, and addressed them as follows:--
"I who now address you, my children, am Philetas. I have often sung
the praises of the Nymphs of yonder Grotto--I have often piped in
honour of Pan, and have guided my numerous herd by the music of my
voice. I come to acquaint you with what I have seen and heard. I have
a garden[3] which I cultivate with my own hands, and in which I have
always worked, since I became too old to tend my herds. In it is every
production of the different seasons; in spring it abounds with roses,
lilies, hyacinths, and either kind of violets; in summer with poppies,
pears, and apples of every sort; and now in autumn, with grapes, figs,
pomegranates, and green myrtles. A variety of birds fly into it every
morning, some in search of food, and some to warble in the shade; for
the over-arching boughs afford thick shade, and three fountains water
the cool retreat. Were it not inclosed with a wall, it might be taken
for a natural wood. As I entered it to-day, about noon, I espied a
little boy under my pomegranates and myrtles, some of which he had
gathered; and was holding them in his hands. His complexion was white
as milk, his hair a bright yellow, and he shone as if he had just been
bathing. He was naked and alone, and amused himself with plucking
the fruit with as much freedom as if it had been his own garden.
Apprehensive that in his wantonness he would commit more mischief and
break my plants, I sprang forward to seize him, but the urchin lightly
and easily escaped from me, sometimes running under rose-trees, and
sometimes hiding himself like a young partridge under the poppies.
"I have frequently been fatigued with catching my sucking kids, or my
new-dropt calves; but as to this mischievous creature, in perpetual
motion, it was utterly impossible to lay hold of him. Old as I am I
was soon weary with the pursuit; so, leaning on my staff for support,
and keeping my eyes on him lest he should escape, I asked him to what
neighbour he belonged, and what he meant by gathering what grew in
another person's garden.
"He made no reply, but approaching very near me, smiled sweetly in my
face, and pelted me with myrtle-berries, and (I know not how) so won
upon me, that my anger was appeased. I intreated him to come close
to me, and assured him that he need not be afraid, swearing by the
myrtles, by the apples, and by the pomegranates of my garden, that I
wished only to give him one kiss, for which he should ever afterwards
have liberty to gather as much fruit, and to pluck as many flowers as
he pleased.
"Upon hearing me thus address him, he burst into a merry laugh, and
with a voice sweeter than that of the swallow or the nightingale, or
of the swan when grown aged like myself, he replied: 'I grudge you
not a kiss, Philetas, for I have more pleasure in being kissed, than
you would have in growing young again; but consider whether the gift
would suit your time of life; for, old as you are, one kiss would not
satisfy you, nor prevent you from running after me, while if even a
hawk, an eagle, or any other swifter bird, were to pursue me, it would
pursue in vain. I am not the child which I appear to be; but I am older
than Saturn, ay, older than Time himself. I knew you well, Philetas,
when you were in the flower of your youth, and when you tended your
widely-scattered flock in yonder marsh. I was near you, when you sat
beneath those beech-trees, and were wooing your Amaryllis: I was close
to the maiden, but you could not discern me. I gave her to you, and
some fine boys, who are now excellent husbandmen and herdsmen, are the
pledges of your love. At this present time I am tending Daphnis and
Chloe like a shepherd; and when I have brought them together in the
morning, I retire to your garden: here I disport myself among your
flowers and plants, and here I bathe in your fountain. Through me it is
that your flowers and shrubs are so beauteous, for the waters, which
have bathed me, refresh them. Look now, if any of your plants be broken
down! --see, if any of your fruit be plucked! --examine whether the stalk
of any flower be crushed--or the clearness of any one of your fountains
be disturbed! and rejoice that you alone, in your old age, have had
the privilege of beholding the boy who is now before you. ' With these
words he sprang like the youngling of a nightingale among the myrtles,
and climbing from bough to bough, ascended through the foliage to the
summit of the tree. I observed wings upon his shoulders, and between
them a tiny bow and arrows; but in a moment I could neither see him
nor them. Unless I have grown grey in vain, unless I have got into my
dotage in growing old, you may rely on me, when I assure you, that you
are consecrate to LOVE, and that you are under his peculiar care. "
Daphnis and Choe were delighted, but they regarded what they had heard
as an amusing story rather than a sober fact; and inquired of Philetas
who and what this LOVE could be? whether he were a boy or a bird? and
of what powers he was possessed? "My young friends," said Philetas,
"he is a god, young, beautiful, and ever on the wing. He rejoices,
therefore, in the company of youth, he is ever in search of beauty, and
adds wings to the souls of those he favours. [4] He has power far beyond
that of Jove himself. He commands the elements, he rules the stars, and
even the gods themselves, who are otherwise his equals;[5] your power
over your flocks is nothing compared to his. All these flowers are
the works of love: these plants are effects produced by him. Through
him these rivers flow, and these zephyrs breathe. I have seen a bull
smitten by his power, who bellowed as though breeze-stung. [6] I have
seen the goat enamoured of the female, and following her everywhere.
I myself was once young, I felt his influence, I loved Amaryllis. I
thought not of my food, I cared not for my drink; I could take no rest,
for sleep was banished from my eyelids. My soul was sad--my heart beat
quick--my limbs felt a deadly chill. Now I cried aloud, as if I had
been beaten; now I was as silent as if I were dead; and now I plunged
into the rivers, as if to extinguish the flame which consumed me. I
invoked Pan to assist me, inasmuch as he had known what it was to love
his Pitys. I poured forth praises to the Nymph Echo for repeating the
name of my Amaryllis: in anger I broke my pipe because it could soothe
my herds, but could not prevail over Amaryllis; for there is no mighty
magic against love; no medicine, whether in food or drink: nothing, in
short, save kisses[7] and embraces, and the closest union of the naked
body. "
Philetas, having given them this information, bade them farewell; but
before permitting him to depart, they presented him with a cheese, and
a kid with newly budding horns.
Daphnis and Chloe, left to themselves, mused in silence upon the name
of Love, which they had now heard for the first time. Sorrow seemed to
have stupified them, till at night, as they returned home, they began
to compare their own sensations with what they had heard from Philetas.
"According to Philetas, lovers are sad--so are we; they neglect their
calling--so do we; they cannot sleep--no more can we. A fire appears
to burn within them--we feel this fire; they long for the sight of one
another--we, too, are always wishing for the day to dawn. Our disorder
must be love, and we have loved each other without being aware of it.
If this be not love, and if we be not mutually lovers, why are we
thus sad? why do we so eagerly seek each other? All that Philetas has
told us is true. The boy, whom he saw in the garden, is the same who
appeared to our parents in the dream, and commanded that we should
follow the pastoral life. How is it possible to catch the urchin? He
is little and will escape from us. At the same time, who can escape
from him? He has wings, and will pursue us. We must away to the Nymphs
and implore their assistance. And yet Pan could not assist Philetas
when in love with Amaryllis. We must seek the remedies which the old
man suggested--kisses and embraces, and lying naked upon the grass;
we shall feel it very cold, but we will bear what Philetas has borne
before us. " Thus were their thoughts employed during the night. The
next morning, after driving their flocks to pasture, they for the first
time kissed each other upon meeting, and afterwards mutually embraced.
The third remedy they were afraid of; the lying naked upon the grass
appeared too bold a step for a maiden, nay, even for a youthful
goatherd. Again, therefore, they passed a sleepless night, calling to
mind what they had done, regretting what they had omitted. "We kissed,"
said they, "and are none the better; we embraced, and have found no
relief. This lying side by side must needs be the sole remedy for
love; assuredly it will prove more efficacious than the kiss and the
embrace. " As might have been expected, their dreams were akin to their
daily thoughts. In sleep they kissed and they embraced; in sleep they
did that which they had omitted to do during the day. Next morning they
rose more than ever inflamed with passion, and hissed[8] along their
flocks, all the while in anticipation of the kiss. They came in sight
of one another, their faces mutually beaming with delight. Again there
was repeated the kiss and the embrace; the remaining remedy was still
untried, Daphnis being unwilling to propose it, and Chloe feeling the
like hesitation. Chance came to their aid. They were sitting beside
each other upon the trunk of a tree: having once tasted the luxury of a
kiss, they were insatiable of its delight; they entwined one another in
their arms, and so drew their bodies into closer contact. Daphnis, in
the course of this embrace, straining Chloe more tightly to his bosom,
she falls upon her side, and he falls with her, and thus acting out the
image of their dreams, they long lay locked in each other's arms. Their
innocence knew nothing beyond this; they imagined that love had nothing
farther to bestow; so after fruitlessly passing the greater portion of
the day in this manner, they separated, and drove home their flocks,
loathing the approach of night. They might, perhaps, on a future
occasion have become greater adepts in the mysteries of love, had not
the following circumstance spread tumult and confusion throughout their
neighbourhood.
Some rich young men of Methymna, who had formed a pleasure party for
passing the vintage-season out of town, launched a small vessel,
employing their servants as rowers, and shaped their course towards
the fields of Mitylene, which lie near the sea-coast. They knew that
there was an excellent harbour for them, with every thing adapted for
their accommodation, as the shore was adorned with handsome houses,
with baths, with gardens, and with groves, some of which were the
productions of nature, and some of art.
Here the party arrived, and drew their boat into a safe place, after
which they committed no acts of mischief, but amused themselves in
various ways, with rod and line angling for rock-fish, which were
found under the different promontories, or hunting the hares, which,
terrified by the noise of the grape gatherers, had fled towards the
shore, and capturing them by means of dogs and nets. Part of their
amusement also was to set snares for birds: many wild ducks, wild geese
and bustards were caught, so that their sport supplied their table in
a great measure; and whatever addition they wanted was easily procured
from the labourers in the fields, who were paid more than its worth for
everything which they supplied. Their chief inconvenience was want of
bread and wine, and a good lodging at night; for as it was late in the
autumn, they did not think it safe to sleep on board their boat, but in
apprehension of storms, usual at this season, were wont to draw it up
on shore.
It so happened that a countryman had broken the old rope to which the
stone was suspended for crushing his grapes after they had been trodden
in the wine-press, and being in want of another to supply its place,
had come clandestinely down to the sea-shore, and taking the cable
from the boat, which was left without any one to watch it, had quietly
conveyed it home to supply his need. The young Methymnæans, in the
morning, made inquiries after their rope; but as no one confessed the
theft, after venting their reproaches on this breach of hospitality,
they launched their boat, and left that part of the coast. After
sailing rather more than a league, they landed on the estate where
Daphnis and Chloe dwelt. It appeared to them to be a good country for
hare-hunting. Having no rope to serve as a cable, they twisted some
vine-branches as a substitute, and tied the head of their boat to the
shore: then let loose the dogs to scent about in the places most likely
for game, and fixed their nets. The cry of the hounds, running hither
and thither, frightened the goats, which fled from the mountains down
to the sea-shore, where some of the boldest of the flock, finding no
food upon the coast, approached the boat and gnawed the branches which
were fastened as a cable.
At the same moment a swell set in, owing to the breezes blowing from
the mountains. The motion of the waves began to carry off the boat,
and, at length, bore it out to sea. The Methymnæans saw the accident:
some of them ran in great haste down to the shore: others hastened to
call the dogs together: and all of them cried out for assistance, in
hopes of assembling the labourers from the neighbouring fields. It was
all of no avail, for the wind increased, and the boat was driven down
the current. When the Methymnæans found themselves thus deprived of it,
and of the considerable property which it contained, they inquired for
the goat-herd, and finding him to be Daphnis, they beat him severely
and stripped him. One of them took a dog-leash, and bending Daphnis'
arms behind his back, was preparing to bind him. Poor Daphnis, smarting
with his beating, roared out for assistance: he called upon all his
neighbours, but upon Lamon and Dryas in particular. The old men took
his part stoutly: the toils of husbandry had made them hard handed;
they demanded that an inquiry should be made agreeably to the rules of
justice. The neighbours, who had now reached the spot, backed them in
their demand, and appointed Philetas umpire in the business. He was
the oldest man present, and was celebrated among the villagers for the
equity of his decisions. The charge of the Methymnæans was made plainly
and with conciseness suitable to the rustic judge before whom they
pleaded. "We came here," said they, "to hunt, and fastened our boat to
the shore with some vine-branches, while we roamed about with our dogs
in search of game. In the meantime, this young man's goats came down
to the coast and ate the fastening of our boat, which has proved the
loss of it. You yourself, saw it driven out to sea, and what valuables
think you it had on board? Why, store of clothes and of dog-gear, and
of money--money enough to have purchased all these fields around us. In
return for what we have lost, we have surely a right to carry off this
heedless goatherd, who, sailor-fashion, chooses to pasture his goats on
the sea-coast. "
This was what the Methymnæans alleged. Daphnis was in sore plight from
the blows which he had received; but seeing Chloe among the crowd, he
rose superior to his pain, and spoke as follows:--
"I am, and always have been very careful of my herds. What neighbour
can say that a goat of mine ever browsed upon his garden, or devoured
any of his sprouting vines? It is these sportsmen who are themselves to
blame, for having dogs so badly broken as to run wildly about making
such a barking, and like so many wolves driving my sheep from hill and
dale down to the sea. The poor brutes eat the vine branches; no wonder,
for they could find no grass, nor shrubs, nor thyme upon the sands. The
sea and the winds destroyed the boat; let the storm bear the blame and
not my goats. They say, that they had left their clothes and money on
board:--who, in his senses, can believe that a boat freighted with so
much wealth, was intrusted to a vine branch for its cable? "
Daphnis said no more, but burst into tears, which moved all his
countrymen with compassion. Philetas, the judge, swore by Pan and the
Nymphs, that neither Daphnis nor his goats were in fault; that only
the sea and the winds could be accused, and that _they_ were not under
his jurisdiction. This decision had no effect on the Methymnæans, who
flew into a rage, and seizing Daphnis, were preparing to bind him.
The villagers irritated at such behaviour, fell upon them as thick
as starlings or rooks, and rescued Daphnis, who now began to fight
in his own defence. In a very short time the Mitlyenæans, by dint of
their clubs, put the strangers to flight, and did not desist from the
pursuit, till they had driven them into a different quarter of the
island.
While they were engaged in the pursuit, Chloe led Daphnis gently by
the hand to the grotto of the Nymphs; there she washed the blood from
his face and nostrils, and taking a slice of bread and cheese from
her scrip, gave it him to eat. After she had thus refreshed him, she
impressed a honeyed kiss with her tender lips.
So near was Daphnis getting into serious trouble; but the affair did
not end here. The Methymnæans reached their own city with much pain
and difficulty; for instead of sailing they had to travel on foot, and
instead of every luxury, and convenience, they had nothing but bruises
and wounds for their comfort. Immediately upon their arrival at home,
they called an assembly of their fellow townsmen, and intreated them to
take up arms to avenge their cause, which they represented in their own
way, altogether concealing the real truth of the matter, for fear of
being laughed at for having been so soundly beaten by a few shepherds.
They accused the people of Mitylene of having seized their boat, as
if it belonged to an enemy, and of plundering it of all its contents.
Their wounds, which they exhibited, gained them belief among their
countrymen, who resolved to avenge the cause of the young men, and
more particularly as they belonged to the first families in the place.
Accordingly they resolved to begin the war without the usual forms of
proclamation, and ordered their naval commander to launch ten vessels
immediately, and ravage the coasts of the enemy. As the winter was
coming on they did not think it safe to hazard a larger fleet.
Early the very next day he put to sea; and employing his soldiers as
rowers, steered his course to the shores of Mitylene. Here he seized
numbers of cattle, a great quantity of corn and wine, (the vintage
being lately ended,) together with the labourers who were still at work
there. Thus plundering as they went, they landed at last on the estate
where Daphnis and Chloe resided, and carried off whatever came to hand.
Daphnis was not then tending his goats, but had gone to the wood, to
cut green branches for the winter fodder of his kids. Looking down from
the woods, he saw these ravages; and immediately hid himself in the
hollow of a decayed beech tree. Chloe happened to be with the flocks;
she fled in affright to the grotto of the Nymphs: and the invaders
pursued her. Here she intreated them, if they had any respect to the
deities of the place, to spare her and her flocks; but her prayers were
of no avail; for the ravagers, after offering many insults to the
statues of the goddesses, drove off the flocks, and hurried Chloe along
with them, as if she had been one of her own goats or sheep, striking
her ever and anon with vine twigs.
Their vessels being now filled with plunder of all kinds, the
Methymnæans thought it advisable not to prosecute their voyage farther,
but to return home, more especially as they were apprehensive of the
winter storms, and of an attack from the inhabitants. Accordingly they
put about; but, as there was no wind, they had to labour at their oars.
Daphnis, (when all was quiet) came down to the plain, the usual place
for pasturing their flocks, but not a goat, nor a sheep was to be seen,
nor was Chloe herself there: when he saw the whole place deserted,
and found Chloe's pipe thrown upon the ground, he burst into loud and
bitter lamentations:--he ran to the beech tree, which had been their
usual seat, and then to the ocean, to try if he could descry her, he
searched for her in the grotto, whither she had fled, and whence she
had been dragged away. Here, at last, he threw himself on the ground
in despair, and exclaimed against the Nymphs, as the deserters of his
Chloe.
"Chloe has been torn away from you, ye Nymphs, and yet ye could
endure to see it! she who has woven so many garlands for you, who has
poured so many libations of new milk to you, and whose pipe is here
suspended as an offering to you! Never did a wolf carry off a single
goat of mine, but marauders have now carried away all my flock, and
their mistress with them. --My goats will be flayed, my sheep will be
sacrificed, and my Chloe will henceforth be confined within a city! how
shall I venture to return to my father and mother without my goats,
and without my Chloe? --I, who shall appear a deserter of my charge! I
have no more flocks to tend, so here will I lie, till death take me,
or the enemy again lay hold of me. Ah! my Chloe, do you share in my
sufferings? --do you still remember these plains, these Nymphs and me;
or are you consoled by having the sheep and goats for your companions
in captivity? "
Thus did Daphnis vent his grief, till weary with weeping and lamenting
he fell into a deep sleep. While slumbering, the three Nymphs appeared
to stand before him; they were tall and beautiful, half-naked and
without sandals; their hair flowed loose over their shoulders, and
indeed in every respect they resembled their statues in the grotto. At
first they shewed signs of commiseration for Daphnis, and, presently,
the eldest of them addressed him in these consolatory words:--
"Do not accuse us, Daphnis; Chloe is an object of deeper anxiety to us,
than she is even to yourself. We had compassion on her when she was
an infant; when she was exposed in this grot, we adopted her and bred
her up. She is not Lamon's daughter, nor do Lamon's fields or herds in
any part belong to her. We have at this time been providing for her
safety, so that she shall not be taken to Methymne as a slave, nor be
numbered among the spoils. We have intreated Pan, (whose statue stands
beneath yonder pine, and whom you have never honoured even with a bunch
of flowers) to come forward as Chloe's champion, for he is more used
to warfare than we are, and has often quitted his rural groves to join
in the din of battle. He is on Chloe's side, and he will be found no
despicable enemy by the Methymnæans. Be not uneasy then, nor perplex
yourself; arise, shew yourself to Lamon and Myrtale, who have thrown
themselves on the earth in despair, under the idea that you too are
carried off by the enemy. To-morrow Chloe and her flocks shall return,
when you shall tend them together, and together shall play upon your
pipe. --Leave your future fates to the care of Love. "
After these words and vision in his dream, Daphnis sprang up, and,
while his eyes were filled with tears, partly of grief and partly of
joy, he paid his adorations to the statues of the Nymphs, and vowed,
that upon Chloe's safe return he would sacrifice a she-goat (the best
of his herd) to the protecting goddesses. Then he hastened to the
pine, beneath whose shade stood the statue of Pan. The legs of the
rural god were those of the goat, and he had a horned forehead; in one
hand he held a pipe, with the other he grasped a goat, which was in
the attitude of bounding. Daphnis adored his statue likewise, prayed
on behalf of Chloe, and vowed to sacrifice a he-goat for her safety.
Scarcely could he cease from his tears and intreaties by sun-set, when
taking up the green fodder which he had been cutting, he returned to
his home, where his presence dispelled Lamon's grief and filled him
with joy, After taking some refreshment he retired to rest; but his
sleep was not even then without tears. In his slumbers he poured forth
prayers to the Nymphs to bless him with another vision, and sighed for
the return of day, when his Chloe was to be restored.
--Of all nights
this appeared to him the longest. --During its continuance the following
events took place:--
When the Methymnæan commander had rowed somewhat more than a mile, he
wished to afford his men some rest, wearied as they were with their
past exertions. At length he espied a promontory, which projected
into the sea in a semicircular form, affording a harbour more calm
and secure than even a regular port. Here he anchored his fleet,
keeping his vessels at a distance from the shore, that they might not
be exposed to any attack from the inhabitants, while his men indulged
themselves at their ease and in all security. The crews having plenty
of all manner of provision among their plunder, eat and drank and gave
themselves up to joy, as if they had been celebrating a festival for
victory. The day was closing; and their merriment was being prolonged
to night, when suddenly all the earth appeared in a blaze; and the
dash of oars was heard, as if a mighty fleet were approaching. [9] They
called upon their commander to arm himself: they shouted to each other;
some fancied that they were wounded; others that they saw the bodies
of the slain before their eyes. It appeared like a night engagement
against an invisible enemy.
A day of greater terror succeeded to the darkness. The goats belonging
to Daphnis, appeared with branches full of ivy berries on their
horns: the rams and ewes, which had been taken with Chloe, instead of
bleating, howled like wolves. Their mistress was seen to have a garland
of pine-leaves round her head. The sea also had its marvels. The
anchors stuck fast in the mud, and could not be drawn up: when the men
dipped their oars in order to row, they were shattered in pieces. The
dolphins leaped from the sea, and with their tails broke the planks of
the vessels. From the top of the rock behind the promontory the sound
of a pipe was heard: but it did not, like the pipe, delight the ear
with dulcet sounds, but terrified like the harsh blast of a trumpet.
The men of Methymna were confounded; they seized their arms, and called
out to their enemies who were invisible; they prayed for the return of
night, which might bring a truce to their terrors.
To all those who were capable of reflection, it was evident, that
these phantasms and sounds proceeded from Pan, who must have conceived
some cause of indignation against them: but what the cause could be,
they were at a loss to conjecture, for they had not plundered any
thing which was sacred to the god. About the middle of the day their
commander (not without the intervention of the god) fell into a deep
sleep, when Pan appeared to him and addressed him thus:
"Ο most abandoned, most impious of men, to what lengths has your
madness driven you! The fields, which are dear to me, ye have filled
with the tumults of war: the herds and the flocks, which were my
peculiar care, ye have taken as plunder. Ye have dragged a virgin
from the altar, whom Cupid had reserved in order to adorn a Tale of
Love. Ye regarded not the Nymphs, who beheld your deeds, nor even the
mighty Pan. Never shall ye reach Methymna, sailing with these spoils,
nor shall yourselves escape the terrors of the pipe which has thus
confounded you. Unless ye immediately give back Chloe to the Nymphs,
and restore her goats and sheep, I will submerge you and ye shall
become food for fishes. Bestir yourselves, therefore, land both her and
them, I will guide your course by sea, and hers by land. "
Bryaxis (for such was the commander's name) awoke from his dream,
and immediately ordered the captain of every vessel to search among
his prisoners for Chloe. They soon found her, for she was sitting
still crowned with pine-leaves, and brought her before him. Bryaxis
regarded the ornament on her head as a proof and confirmation of what
he had seen in the vision, and without delay took her on board his
own vessel,[10] and conveyed her safe to the shore. No sooner had she
landed than the sound of the pipe was again heard from the rock: but
it was no longer dreadful like the blast of the war trumpet: on the
contrary it was sweet and pastoral in tone, as when the shepherd is
leading out his flock to feed. The sheep ran down the gangway,[11]
without their horny hoofs slipping. The goats, used to steep places,
proceeded still more venturesomely. Upon reaching the shore the flocks
formed themselves in a ring around Chloe, like a company of dancers,
skipping and bleating and exhibiting every symptom of joy; while the
sheep and goats and oxen belonging to the other shepherds remained
quiet in the holds of the vessels, as if knowing that the pipe, which
sounded, was not intended to summon them. While every one was struck
with astonishment, and celebrated the power of Pan, still stranger
sights appeared both by sea and land.
Before the crews had time to heave their anchors, the ships of
themselves began to make sail, and a dolphin, which leaped and played
on the waves, swam before the admiral's ship as guide. On the other
hand Chloe's goats and sheep were led by most ravishing music of the
pipe, which continued its notes, though the player was invisible: sheep
and goats continued to graze and pace gently onward listening with
delight to the melody.
It was the time of evening-pasture, when Daphnis from the summit of a
rock espied his Chloe and her flocks. Ο Pan! Ο ye Nymphs! he shouted
in rapture, and hurrying down into the plain threw himself into
Chloe's arms, fainted, and fell to the ground. The kisses and soothing
embraces of the maiden with some difficulty restored him to his
senses, after which he proceeded to their favourite beech-tree, under
the shade of which he sat down, and inquired how Chloe had escaped
from so many enemies. She related everything which had happened--the
appearance of the ivy around the goats' horns--the wolfish howling
of the sheep--the pine garland encircling her own temples--the blaze
of fire on the land--the unwonted noise at sea--the two discordant
notes of the pipe--that of war and that of peace--the terrors of the
night--and lastly, how the melody guided her hither, through fields
and over plains to which she was a stranger. Upon hearing this, Daphnis
recognized the vision of the Nymphs, and the influence of Pan, and
in his turn, he gave Chloe an account of all which he had seen and
heard. He informed her how when ready to destroy himself, he had been
preserved through the intervention of the Nymphs.
He then sent Chloe to summon Dryas and Lamon with their servants and to
desire them to bring every requisite for a sacrifice, while he in the
mean time took the choicest of his she-goats, crowned it with ivy (just
as it had appeared to the enemy on board of ship) poured milk between
its horns, and sacrificed it to the Nymphs. Then he hung it up and
flayed it, and suspended its skin as an offering to them.
Chloe now arrived with Lamon and the servants. A fire was immediately
kindled, upon which part of the goat's flesh was boiled and part of
it roasted. Daphnis offered the first portions to the Nymphs, and
poured out to them a libation of new must; he then piled some leaves
into the form of couches, reclined at his ease upon one of them, and
gave himself up to good cheer and mirth: but at the same time kept a
watchful eye on his sheep for fear a wolf should effect what the enemy
had been foiled in doing. After this the party sang the praises of the
Nymphs in songs, which had been indited by the shepherds of by-gone
days. They slept in the field that night, and in the morning remembered
Pan. The leader of the goats was selected from the herd; a chaplet of
pine-leaves was bound round his horns, and he was led to the statue,
which stood beneath the pine; when after pouring over him a libation of
wine,[12] carefully avoiding all ominous expressions, the victim was
slain, suspended, and flayed. The flesh, part of which was roasted and
part boiled, was spread out upon some dry leaves in the meadow. The
skin with the horns was hung up on the tree hard by the statue of the
god--a pastoral offering to a pastoral deity. A first portion also of
the flesh was offered, and libations poured to him from the largest
goblet. Chloe sang; while Daphnis piped.
Having discharged their religious rites, they were reclining on the
grass and feasting, when Philetas the herdsman accidentally came
by, bringing with him some garlands, and vine-branches, laden with
their clusters, as offerings to Pan. Tityrus, his youngest son, a
golden-haired, blue-eyed, fair and sportive boy followed him. At the
sight of Philetas, Daphnis and Chloe sprang from their grassy couch,
assisted in crowning Pan, and in suspending the clusters to the
tree, and then made Philetas seat himself by them, and join in their
carousal. Very soon, as old men do when their clay is moistened,[13]
they began to talk of their youthful adventures, of the flocks which
they had fed, of incursions of marauders, which they had escaped in the
days when they were young. One prided himself on having slain a wolf:
another boasted, that in piping he was second to Pan alone. --This was
the boast of Philetas.
Daphnis and Chloe used urgent entreaties that he would teach them
the art, and that he would play on the pipe at the festival of that
deity, who delights in its melody. The old man complained that age had
shortened his powers of breath, but complied with their request, and
took up the pipe of Daphnis. It was a pipe too small to do justice to
so great an art; being suited only for a boy. Accordingly he despatched
Tityrus to bring his own pipe from the cottage, which was rather more
than a mile off. The boy threw aside his cloak,[14] and darted off like
a young fawn. Lamon, in the mean time, promised to amuse them with the
legend of the Syrinx,[15] (or pipe) which he had heard from a Sicilian
shepherd, who received a he-goat and a pipe as the price of his song.
"This pipe was not formerly what it is now, an instrument of music:
it was once a maiden of beautiful form, and melodious voice. She fed
her flocks, she sported with the Nymphs, and the sound of her voice
was sweet as it is now. Pan beheld the maiden feeding her flocks,
disporting herself, and singing. He approached her, and endeavoured
to win her to his will, promising her as an enticement that all her
she-goats should bear two kids at a birth. The maiden laughed at his
suit, and replied that she would never think of accepting as a lover,
one who was neither man nor goat, but a compound half of each. --Pan was
preparing to offer violence: the maiden fled from him, and when weary
with running, hid herself among the reeds of a lake and disappeared.
Her pursuer in a rage cut the reeds, but finding no damsel there,
and perceiving what had taken place, he in memory of her formed this
instrument. Compacting with wax unequal reeds in order to shew how the
course of their love had not run smooth. [16]--Thus she, who was once a
beauteous maiden, is now a musical pipe: the instrument inheriting her
name. "
While Philetas was commending Lamon's legend, which, he said, was more
pleasing than any song, Tityrus appeared with his father's pipe, a
large instrument formed of the largest reeds, and ornamented with brass
over the junctures of the wax. A person might have imagined it to be
the very pipe whose reeds had been first united by Pan. Philetas rose
up, placed himself upon a seat in an erect posture, and began to try
whether the reeds were in good order: he found the air pass through
them freely, and then with as much energy as if he had been in the
prime of youth, he blew a note so vigorous and full, that it appeared
like a band of pipers playing in concert. By degrees he moderated the
vehemence of his tones, and turned them into a softer strain. He ran
through all the variations of pastoral melody; he played the tune,
which the oxen obey, that which attracts the goats, that in which the
sheep delight. The notes for the sheep were sweet, those for the oxen
deep, those for the goats were shrill. In short, his single pipe could
express the tones of every pipe which is played upon.
Those present lay listening in silent delight; when Dryas rose up, and
desired Philetas to strike up the Bacchanalian tune. Philetas obeyed,
and Dryas began[17] the vintage-dance, in which he represented the
plucking of the grapes, the carrying of the baskets,--the treading
of the clusters, the filling of the casks, and the drinking of the
new-made wine. All this Dryas imitated so closely and admirably in
his pantomimic dance, that the spectator might fancy the wines, the
wine-press, and the casks to be actually before him, and that Dryas was
drinking in reality.
Each of the three old men had now severally distinguished himself.
Dryas, in his delight gave Daphnis and Chloe a kiss, who immediately
sprang from their seats, and began to dance a ballet representative
of Lamon's fable. Daphnis assumed the character of Pan, and Chloe
that of Syrinx. While he endeavoured to entice her to his embraces,
she smiled in scorn at his attempts. He pursued her, and ran upon his
tiptoes in imitation of the cloven feet of the god: while she making a
semblance of exhaustion, at last hid herself in the wood, making it a
substitute for reedy lake. Upon losing sight of her, Daphnis seizing
the large pipe of Philetas, breathed into it a mournful strain as of
one who loves; then a love-sick strain as of one who pleads; lastly and
recalling strain, as of one who seeks her whom he has lost.
Philetas himself was astonished, and ran and embraced the youth and
kissed him: and with a prayer, that Daphnis might transmit the pipe
to as worthy a successor, bestowed it on him as a gift. The youth
suspended his own pipe as an offering to Pan, kissed Chloe with as much
ardour as if she had really been lost and found again, and led his
flocks home by the sound of his new instrument. Chloe also (as night
was coming on) conducted her sheep homeward to the music of her pipe.
The goats kept close by the sheep, as Daphnis kept close by Chloe.
In this manner did they enjoy each other's company, till night-fall,
when they agreed to meet earlier at the pasture the next morning,
an arrangement which they punctually fulfilled. As soon as the day
dawned, they were in the fields. They paid their adorations to the
Nymphs first, and then to Pan, afterwards retiring from their devotions
to their seat under the shade of the oak, where they played their
accustomed melodies. They interchanged kisses and embraces, and lay
down side-by-side, but this was all; then rising, they bethought them
of their meal, at which they partook of milk and wine.
Becoming gradually warmed and emboldened by all this they began to
enter into an amorous revelry, and to swear perpetual affection and
fidelity. Daphnis advanced to the sacred pine, and called Pan to
witness, that he would never live apart from his Chloe--no--not for
the space of a single day. Chloe entered the Grotto, and swore by the
Nymphs, that she would live and die with Daphnis: and in the simplicity
of her heart, upon coming out, she required that Daphnis should bind
himself by a second oath; "for," (said the maiden) "my dear Daphnis,
Pan himself, by whom you swore, is a lover, and yet unfaithful. He
loved Pitys, he loved Syrinx, and yet he never ceases from pestering
the Dryads with his addresses, or from causing annoyance to the
Epimelian Nymphs, the guardians of our herds. He who breaks his own
vows will hardly punish you, even if you should attach yourself to more
damsels than there are reeds in this pipe. Come, dearest Daphnis, you
must swear by this herd and by the she-goat, which nursed you, that,
while Chloe is faithful to you, you will never desert her; on the other
hand if Chloe should ever do despite to you, and to the Nymphs--fly
from her--detest her--kill her, as you would kill a wolf. "
Daphnis, delighted even at her mistrust, which shewed the warmth of
her affection, placed himself in the midst of his herd, and taking
hold of a she-goat with one hand, and a he-goat with the other, swore
to be true to Chloe, while she was true to him; and that if she should
ever prefer another before him, he would put an end not to her but to
himself.
Chloe was happy:--for she believed him with all the simplicity of a
girl, and of a shepherdess, and of one who thought that the sheep and
the goats were the fitting and peculiar deities of those who tended
them.
[Footnote 1:
"Hic innocentis pocula Lesbii
Duces sub umbrâ; nec Semeleïus
Cum Marte confundet Thyoneus
Prœlia. "--Hor. I. Od. xvii. 21.
"The Lesbian wine would seem to have possessed a delicious flavour; for
it is said to have deserved the name of Ambrosia rather than of wine,
and to have been like nectar when old. In Athenæus this wine is called
οἰνάριον, _vinulum_, 'the little wine,' to which Bacchus gave ἀτέλειαν,
an innocence and immunity from drunkenness. Horace terms the Lesbian
an innocent or unintoxicating wine; but it was the prevailing opinion
among the ancients, that all sweet wines were less injurious to the
head, and less apt to cause intoxication, than strong dry wines. By
Pliny, however, the growths of Chios and Thasos are placed before the
Lesbian, which he affirms had naturally a saltish taste. "--Henderson's
Hist. of Ancient and Modern Wines, p. 77. ]
[Footnote 2: When the grapes were ripe, (σταφυλή) the bunches were
gathered, any which remained unripe (ὅμφαξ) were carefully removed,
and the rest carried from the vineyard in deep baskets (ἀρρίχοι)
to be poured into a vat (ληνός) in which they were trodden by men,
who had the lower part of their bodies naked, except that they wore
drawers. When sufficiently trodden, the grapes were subjected to the
more powerful pressure of a thick and heavy beam (for which λίθος,
in Longus, seems the substitute), for the purpose of obtaining all
the juice yet remaining in them. Vine branches were very frequently
employed as torches. --Vide Scholiast on Aristoph. Lys. 291. ]
[Footnote 3: Compare the description of the garden in Achilles Tatius,
1. 15, and that of Virgil's "senex Corycius. " G. iv, 125-146. ]
[Footnote 4:
. . . . Love's heralds should be thoughts,
Which ten times faster glide than the sun-beams.
Romeo and Juliet.
]
[Footnote 5:
Oἶoν ἄρχει βρέφος ὀυρανοῦ καὶ γῆς, καὶ θαλάττης.
Achilles Tatius.
"At his sight the sun hath turned;
Neptune on the waters burned;
Hell hath felt a greater heat;
Jove himself forsook his seat;
From the centre to the sky
Are his trophies reared high. "
Ben Jonson, Hue and Cry after Cupid.
See also the fine chorus in the Antigone, 781-790. ]
[Footnote 6: The power of love over the brute creation. --Virg. G. iii.
211-257. ]
[Footnote 7: φίλημα, καὶ περιβολή, καὶ σνγκα-ακλιθῆναι γυμνοῖς σώμασι. ]
[Footnote 8:
Ροίζῳ--"Πολλῇ δὲ ῥοιζῳ πρὸς ὄρος τρέπε πίονα μῆλα. "
Odys. ix. 315.
"Then hissing them along he drove his flocks. "--Cowper.
]
[Footnote 9:
. . . . "φόβος δὲ πᾶσι βαρβάροις παρῆν
γνώμης αποσφαλεῖσιν.
. . . . . .
εὐθὺς δὲ κώπης ῥοθιάδος ξυνεμβoλῇ
ἔπαισαν ἄλμην βρύχιου ἐκ κελεύσματος. "
Æsch. Persæ, 391.
For the good service done by Pan to the Athenians at Marathon, he was
rewarded with a temple. --Herod. vi. 405. ]
[Footnote 10: ἐπ αὐτῆς τῆς ναυηχίδος, literally, in the admiral. ]
[Footnote 11: κατὰ τῆς αποβάθρας. ]
[Footnote 12: εὑφημοῦντες. Especial care was taken during a sacrifice,
that no inauspicious or frivolous words were uttered by any of the
bystanders; hence the admonitions of the priest,--εῦφημεῖτε, εὐφημία,
σιγᾶτε, σιωπᾶτε, favete linguis, and others; for improper expressions
were thought not only to pollute the sacred act, but to be unlucky
omens.
"Male ominatis,
Parcite verbis. "
Hor. iii. Od. xiv. 11.
]
[Footnote 13: υπoβεβρεγμένoι. ]
[Footnote 14: ἐγκόμβωμα. ]
[Footnote 15: See the legend in Ovid Met. i. 689. ]
[Footnote 16: άνίσους, καθ' ὃτι καὶ ὁ ἔρως ἄνισος αὐτοῖς. ]
[Footnote 17: "La Pantomime est le premier langage de l'homme; elle est
connue de toutes les nations. "--Bernardin de St. Pierre.
On the subject of the Pantomimic dance, common to Greece and Italy, see
Dict. of Greek and Rom. Antiq. p. 713. ]
BOOK III.
When the inhabitants of Mitylene heard of the descent made by the ten
vessels, and had been informed by some coming from the spot of the
plunder which had been carried off, they were of opinion that such an
injury on the part of the Methymnæans was insufferable, and immediately
raised a force of three thousand infantry and five hundred cavalry,
which they put under the command of Hippasus with orders, that he
should lead his men by land, and not embark them on board of ship, as a
voyage in the winter season would be dangerous.
The general began his march, but he did not lay waste the country of
the enemy, nor did he plunder the possessions of the husbandman, or of
the shepherd, thinking such petty warfare suitable to a captain of a
banditti, rather than to the leader of an army. He hastened his march
in order to reach the gates of the city and attack the inhabitants
while they were off their guard. When his troops approached within
eleven miles of the city, a herald came out to them with proposals for
a truce. The Methymnæans had discovered from the prisoners, that the
citizens of Mitylene were ignorant of the beginning of the affray,[1]
and that the insolence of their own young men had drawn upon them the
vengeance inflicted by the herdsmen and shepherds.
788; also a passage in Xen. Hell. vi. 11. 6. ]
[Footnote 34: In the P. V. of Æschylus, l. 732, Prometheus tells Io;
"Ἔσται δὲ θνητοΐς εἰσαεὶ λόγος μέγας
Tῆς σῆς πορείας, Βόσπορος δ' ἐπώνυμος
Κεκλήσεται. "
The true etymology however is to be found in the signification of βοῦς
and ἵππος--which in composition means size. ]
[Footnote 35: See ch. 2. ]
[Footnote 36: θρῆνος τῶν βοῶν ἐπὶ βουκόλῳ.
Theocritus in Idyll, i. 74, represents the herds as mourning their
master's death--
"Πολλαί oι πὰρ ποσσί βόες, πολλοὶ δέ τε ταῦροι,
Πολλαὶ δ' αὖ δαμάλαι καὶ πόρτιες ὠδύραντο--"
]
[Footnote 37: παρὰ τοῖς λησταὶς, . . . τὸ ἔρωτος ληστήριον--]
BOOK II.
It was now the middle of autumn:--the vintage[1] was at hand, and every
one was busy in the fields. One[2] prepared the wine-presses, another
cleansed the casks, and another twisted the osiers into baskets.
Each had a separate employ--in providing short pruning hooks, to cut
the grapes; or a heavy stone, to pound them; or dry vine branches,
previously well bruised, to serve as torches, so that the must might be
carried away at night.
Daphnis and Chloe neglected for a time their flocks and mutually
assisted one another. He carried the clusters in baskets, threw them
into the wine-presses, trod them, and drew off the wine into casks;
she prepared their meals for the grape-gatherers, brought old wine
for their drink, and plucked off the lowest bunches. Indeed, all the
vines in Lesbos were of lowly growth, and instead of shooting upwards,
or twining around trees, they spread their branches downwards, which
trailed along, like ivy, so close to the ground, that even an infant
might reach the fruit.
The women, who, according to the custom at this festival of Bacchus,
and birth of the vine, were called from the neighbouring villages to
lend their assistance, all cast their eyes upon Daphnis, and exclaimed
that he was equal in beauty to Bacchus himself. One of the most forward
of these wenches gave him a kiss, which inflamed Daphnis, but sadly
grieved poor Chloe.
On the other hand, the men who were treading the wine-press indulged
in all manner of jests about Chloe, they danced round her as furiously
as so many Bacchanals round a Bacchante, and exclaimed that they would
gladly become sheep to be fed by her hand. These compliments delighted
Chloe, but tormented poor Daphnis.
Each of them wished the vintage over, that they might return to their
usual haunts, and instead of this discordant din might hear the sound
of their pipe, and the bleating of their sheep. In a few days the vines
were stript,--the casks were filled,--there was no longer any need of
more hands, they therefore drove their flocks to the plain. In the
first place, with sincere delight they went to pay their adoration
to the Nymphs, and carried vine-branches with clusters of grapes on
them, as first-fruit offerings from the vintage. Indeed, they never
had hitherto passed by the Grotto without some token of respect, but
always saluted them as they passed by with their flocks to their
morning pasture, and when they returned in the evening, they paid their
adoration, and presented, as an offering, either a flower, or some
fruit, or a green leaf, or a libation of milk. This piety, as we shall
see, had in the end its due reward. At the time we speak of, like young
hounds just let loose, they leaped about, they piped, they sang, and
wrestled and played with their goats and sheep.
While thus sporting and enjoying themselves, an old man, clothed in a
coarse coat of skin, with shoes of undressed leather on his feet, and
with a wallet (which, by the by, was a very old one) at his back, came
up, seated himself near them, and addressed them as follows:--
"I who now address you, my children, am Philetas. I have often sung
the praises of the Nymphs of yonder Grotto--I have often piped in
honour of Pan, and have guided my numerous herd by the music of my
voice. I come to acquaint you with what I have seen and heard. I have
a garden[3] which I cultivate with my own hands, and in which I have
always worked, since I became too old to tend my herds. In it is every
production of the different seasons; in spring it abounds with roses,
lilies, hyacinths, and either kind of violets; in summer with poppies,
pears, and apples of every sort; and now in autumn, with grapes, figs,
pomegranates, and green myrtles. A variety of birds fly into it every
morning, some in search of food, and some to warble in the shade; for
the over-arching boughs afford thick shade, and three fountains water
the cool retreat. Were it not inclosed with a wall, it might be taken
for a natural wood. As I entered it to-day, about noon, I espied a
little boy under my pomegranates and myrtles, some of which he had
gathered; and was holding them in his hands. His complexion was white
as milk, his hair a bright yellow, and he shone as if he had just been
bathing. He was naked and alone, and amused himself with plucking
the fruit with as much freedom as if it had been his own garden.
Apprehensive that in his wantonness he would commit more mischief and
break my plants, I sprang forward to seize him, but the urchin lightly
and easily escaped from me, sometimes running under rose-trees, and
sometimes hiding himself like a young partridge under the poppies.
"I have frequently been fatigued with catching my sucking kids, or my
new-dropt calves; but as to this mischievous creature, in perpetual
motion, it was utterly impossible to lay hold of him. Old as I am I
was soon weary with the pursuit; so, leaning on my staff for support,
and keeping my eyes on him lest he should escape, I asked him to what
neighbour he belonged, and what he meant by gathering what grew in
another person's garden.
"He made no reply, but approaching very near me, smiled sweetly in my
face, and pelted me with myrtle-berries, and (I know not how) so won
upon me, that my anger was appeased. I intreated him to come close
to me, and assured him that he need not be afraid, swearing by the
myrtles, by the apples, and by the pomegranates of my garden, that I
wished only to give him one kiss, for which he should ever afterwards
have liberty to gather as much fruit, and to pluck as many flowers as
he pleased.
"Upon hearing me thus address him, he burst into a merry laugh, and
with a voice sweeter than that of the swallow or the nightingale, or
of the swan when grown aged like myself, he replied: 'I grudge you
not a kiss, Philetas, for I have more pleasure in being kissed, than
you would have in growing young again; but consider whether the gift
would suit your time of life; for, old as you are, one kiss would not
satisfy you, nor prevent you from running after me, while if even a
hawk, an eagle, or any other swifter bird, were to pursue me, it would
pursue in vain. I am not the child which I appear to be; but I am older
than Saturn, ay, older than Time himself. I knew you well, Philetas,
when you were in the flower of your youth, and when you tended your
widely-scattered flock in yonder marsh. I was near you, when you sat
beneath those beech-trees, and were wooing your Amaryllis: I was close
to the maiden, but you could not discern me. I gave her to you, and
some fine boys, who are now excellent husbandmen and herdsmen, are the
pledges of your love. At this present time I am tending Daphnis and
Chloe like a shepherd; and when I have brought them together in the
morning, I retire to your garden: here I disport myself among your
flowers and plants, and here I bathe in your fountain. Through me it is
that your flowers and shrubs are so beauteous, for the waters, which
have bathed me, refresh them. Look now, if any of your plants be broken
down! --see, if any of your fruit be plucked! --examine whether the stalk
of any flower be crushed--or the clearness of any one of your fountains
be disturbed! and rejoice that you alone, in your old age, have had
the privilege of beholding the boy who is now before you. ' With these
words he sprang like the youngling of a nightingale among the myrtles,
and climbing from bough to bough, ascended through the foliage to the
summit of the tree. I observed wings upon his shoulders, and between
them a tiny bow and arrows; but in a moment I could neither see him
nor them. Unless I have grown grey in vain, unless I have got into my
dotage in growing old, you may rely on me, when I assure you, that you
are consecrate to LOVE, and that you are under his peculiar care. "
Daphnis and Choe were delighted, but they regarded what they had heard
as an amusing story rather than a sober fact; and inquired of Philetas
who and what this LOVE could be? whether he were a boy or a bird? and
of what powers he was possessed? "My young friends," said Philetas,
"he is a god, young, beautiful, and ever on the wing. He rejoices,
therefore, in the company of youth, he is ever in search of beauty, and
adds wings to the souls of those he favours. [4] He has power far beyond
that of Jove himself. He commands the elements, he rules the stars, and
even the gods themselves, who are otherwise his equals;[5] your power
over your flocks is nothing compared to his. All these flowers are
the works of love: these plants are effects produced by him. Through
him these rivers flow, and these zephyrs breathe. I have seen a bull
smitten by his power, who bellowed as though breeze-stung. [6] I have
seen the goat enamoured of the female, and following her everywhere.
I myself was once young, I felt his influence, I loved Amaryllis. I
thought not of my food, I cared not for my drink; I could take no rest,
for sleep was banished from my eyelids. My soul was sad--my heart beat
quick--my limbs felt a deadly chill. Now I cried aloud, as if I had
been beaten; now I was as silent as if I were dead; and now I plunged
into the rivers, as if to extinguish the flame which consumed me. I
invoked Pan to assist me, inasmuch as he had known what it was to love
his Pitys. I poured forth praises to the Nymph Echo for repeating the
name of my Amaryllis: in anger I broke my pipe because it could soothe
my herds, but could not prevail over Amaryllis; for there is no mighty
magic against love; no medicine, whether in food or drink: nothing, in
short, save kisses[7] and embraces, and the closest union of the naked
body. "
Philetas, having given them this information, bade them farewell; but
before permitting him to depart, they presented him with a cheese, and
a kid with newly budding horns.
Daphnis and Chloe, left to themselves, mused in silence upon the name
of Love, which they had now heard for the first time. Sorrow seemed to
have stupified them, till at night, as they returned home, they began
to compare their own sensations with what they had heard from Philetas.
"According to Philetas, lovers are sad--so are we; they neglect their
calling--so do we; they cannot sleep--no more can we. A fire appears
to burn within them--we feel this fire; they long for the sight of one
another--we, too, are always wishing for the day to dawn. Our disorder
must be love, and we have loved each other without being aware of it.
If this be not love, and if we be not mutually lovers, why are we
thus sad? why do we so eagerly seek each other? All that Philetas has
told us is true. The boy, whom he saw in the garden, is the same who
appeared to our parents in the dream, and commanded that we should
follow the pastoral life. How is it possible to catch the urchin? He
is little and will escape from us. At the same time, who can escape
from him? He has wings, and will pursue us. We must away to the Nymphs
and implore their assistance. And yet Pan could not assist Philetas
when in love with Amaryllis. We must seek the remedies which the old
man suggested--kisses and embraces, and lying naked upon the grass;
we shall feel it very cold, but we will bear what Philetas has borne
before us. " Thus were their thoughts employed during the night. The
next morning, after driving their flocks to pasture, they for the first
time kissed each other upon meeting, and afterwards mutually embraced.
The third remedy they were afraid of; the lying naked upon the grass
appeared too bold a step for a maiden, nay, even for a youthful
goatherd. Again, therefore, they passed a sleepless night, calling to
mind what they had done, regretting what they had omitted. "We kissed,"
said they, "and are none the better; we embraced, and have found no
relief. This lying side by side must needs be the sole remedy for
love; assuredly it will prove more efficacious than the kiss and the
embrace. " As might have been expected, their dreams were akin to their
daily thoughts. In sleep they kissed and they embraced; in sleep they
did that which they had omitted to do during the day. Next morning they
rose more than ever inflamed with passion, and hissed[8] along their
flocks, all the while in anticipation of the kiss. They came in sight
of one another, their faces mutually beaming with delight. Again there
was repeated the kiss and the embrace; the remaining remedy was still
untried, Daphnis being unwilling to propose it, and Chloe feeling the
like hesitation. Chance came to their aid. They were sitting beside
each other upon the trunk of a tree: having once tasted the luxury of a
kiss, they were insatiable of its delight; they entwined one another in
their arms, and so drew their bodies into closer contact. Daphnis, in
the course of this embrace, straining Chloe more tightly to his bosom,
she falls upon her side, and he falls with her, and thus acting out the
image of their dreams, they long lay locked in each other's arms. Their
innocence knew nothing beyond this; they imagined that love had nothing
farther to bestow; so after fruitlessly passing the greater portion of
the day in this manner, they separated, and drove home their flocks,
loathing the approach of night. They might, perhaps, on a future
occasion have become greater adepts in the mysteries of love, had not
the following circumstance spread tumult and confusion throughout their
neighbourhood.
Some rich young men of Methymna, who had formed a pleasure party for
passing the vintage-season out of town, launched a small vessel,
employing their servants as rowers, and shaped their course towards
the fields of Mitylene, which lie near the sea-coast. They knew that
there was an excellent harbour for them, with every thing adapted for
their accommodation, as the shore was adorned with handsome houses,
with baths, with gardens, and with groves, some of which were the
productions of nature, and some of art.
Here the party arrived, and drew their boat into a safe place, after
which they committed no acts of mischief, but amused themselves in
various ways, with rod and line angling for rock-fish, which were
found under the different promontories, or hunting the hares, which,
terrified by the noise of the grape gatherers, had fled towards the
shore, and capturing them by means of dogs and nets. Part of their
amusement also was to set snares for birds: many wild ducks, wild geese
and bustards were caught, so that their sport supplied their table in
a great measure; and whatever addition they wanted was easily procured
from the labourers in the fields, who were paid more than its worth for
everything which they supplied. Their chief inconvenience was want of
bread and wine, and a good lodging at night; for as it was late in the
autumn, they did not think it safe to sleep on board their boat, but in
apprehension of storms, usual at this season, were wont to draw it up
on shore.
It so happened that a countryman had broken the old rope to which the
stone was suspended for crushing his grapes after they had been trodden
in the wine-press, and being in want of another to supply its place,
had come clandestinely down to the sea-shore, and taking the cable
from the boat, which was left without any one to watch it, had quietly
conveyed it home to supply his need. The young Methymnæans, in the
morning, made inquiries after their rope; but as no one confessed the
theft, after venting their reproaches on this breach of hospitality,
they launched their boat, and left that part of the coast. After
sailing rather more than a league, they landed on the estate where
Daphnis and Chloe dwelt. It appeared to them to be a good country for
hare-hunting. Having no rope to serve as a cable, they twisted some
vine-branches as a substitute, and tied the head of their boat to the
shore: then let loose the dogs to scent about in the places most likely
for game, and fixed their nets. The cry of the hounds, running hither
and thither, frightened the goats, which fled from the mountains down
to the sea-shore, where some of the boldest of the flock, finding no
food upon the coast, approached the boat and gnawed the branches which
were fastened as a cable.
At the same moment a swell set in, owing to the breezes blowing from
the mountains. The motion of the waves began to carry off the boat,
and, at length, bore it out to sea. The Methymnæans saw the accident:
some of them ran in great haste down to the shore: others hastened to
call the dogs together: and all of them cried out for assistance, in
hopes of assembling the labourers from the neighbouring fields. It was
all of no avail, for the wind increased, and the boat was driven down
the current. When the Methymnæans found themselves thus deprived of it,
and of the considerable property which it contained, they inquired for
the goat-herd, and finding him to be Daphnis, they beat him severely
and stripped him. One of them took a dog-leash, and bending Daphnis'
arms behind his back, was preparing to bind him. Poor Daphnis, smarting
with his beating, roared out for assistance: he called upon all his
neighbours, but upon Lamon and Dryas in particular. The old men took
his part stoutly: the toils of husbandry had made them hard handed;
they demanded that an inquiry should be made agreeably to the rules of
justice. The neighbours, who had now reached the spot, backed them in
their demand, and appointed Philetas umpire in the business. He was
the oldest man present, and was celebrated among the villagers for the
equity of his decisions. The charge of the Methymnæans was made plainly
and with conciseness suitable to the rustic judge before whom they
pleaded. "We came here," said they, "to hunt, and fastened our boat to
the shore with some vine-branches, while we roamed about with our dogs
in search of game. In the meantime, this young man's goats came down
to the coast and ate the fastening of our boat, which has proved the
loss of it. You yourself, saw it driven out to sea, and what valuables
think you it had on board? Why, store of clothes and of dog-gear, and
of money--money enough to have purchased all these fields around us. In
return for what we have lost, we have surely a right to carry off this
heedless goatherd, who, sailor-fashion, chooses to pasture his goats on
the sea-coast. "
This was what the Methymnæans alleged. Daphnis was in sore plight from
the blows which he had received; but seeing Chloe among the crowd, he
rose superior to his pain, and spoke as follows:--
"I am, and always have been very careful of my herds. What neighbour
can say that a goat of mine ever browsed upon his garden, or devoured
any of his sprouting vines? It is these sportsmen who are themselves to
blame, for having dogs so badly broken as to run wildly about making
such a barking, and like so many wolves driving my sheep from hill and
dale down to the sea. The poor brutes eat the vine branches; no wonder,
for they could find no grass, nor shrubs, nor thyme upon the sands. The
sea and the winds destroyed the boat; let the storm bear the blame and
not my goats. They say, that they had left their clothes and money on
board:--who, in his senses, can believe that a boat freighted with so
much wealth, was intrusted to a vine branch for its cable? "
Daphnis said no more, but burst into tears, which moved all his
countrymen with compassion. Philetas, the judge, swore by Pan and the
Nymphs, that neither Daphnis nor his goats were in fault; that only
the sea and the winds could be accused, and that _they_ were not under
his jurisdiction. This decision had no effect on the Methymnæans, who
flew into a rage, and seizing Daphnis, were preparing to bind him.
The villagers irritated at such behaviour, fell upon them as thick
as starlings or rooks, and rescued Daphnis, who now began to fight
in his own defence. In a very short time the Mitlyenæans, by dint of
their clubs, put the strangers to flight, and did not desist from the
pursuit, till they had driven them into a different quarter of the
island.
While they were engaged in the pursuit, Chloe led Daphnis gently by
the hand to the grotto of the Nymphs; there she washed the blood from
his face and nostrils, and taking a slice of bread and cheese from
her scrip, gave it him to eat. After she had thus refreshed him, she
impressed a honeyed kiss with her tender lips.
So near was Daphnis getting into serious trouble; but the affair did
not end here. The Methymnæans reached their own city with much pain
and difficulty; for instead of sailing they had to travel on foot, and
instead of every luxury, and convenience, they had nothing but bruises
and wounds for their comfort. Immediately upon their arrival at home,
they called an assembly of their fellow townsmen, and intreated them to
take up arms to avenge their cause, which they represented in their own
way, altogether concealing the real truth of the matter, for fear of
being laughed at for having been so soundly beaten by a few shepherds.
They accused the people of Mitylene of having seized their boat, as
if it belonged to an enemy, and of plundering it of all its contents.
Their wounds, which they exhibited, gained them belief among their
countrymen, who resolved to avenge the cause of the young men, and
more particularly as they belonged to the first families in the place.
Accordingly they resolved to begin the war without the usual forms of
proclamation, and ordered their naval commander to launch ten vessels
immediately, and ravage the coasts of the enemy. As the winter was
coming on they did not think it safe to hazard a larger fleet.
Early the very next day he put to sea; and employing his soldiers as
rowers, steered his course to the shores of Mitylene. Here he seized
numbers of cattle, a great quantity of corn and wine, (the vintage
being lately ended,) together with the labourers who were still at work
there. Thus plundering as they went, they landed at last on the estate
where Daphnis and Chloe resided, and carried off whatever came to hand.
Daphnis was not then tending his goats, but had gone to the wood, to
cut green branches for the winter fodder of his kids. Looking down from
the woods, he saw these ravages; and immediately hid himself in the
hollow of a decayed beech tree. Chloe happened to be with the flocks;
she fled in affright to the grotto of the Nymphs: and the invaders
pursued her. Here she intreated them, if they had any respect to the
deities of the place, to spare her and her flocks; but her prayers were
of no avail; for the ravagers, after offering many insults to the
statues of the goddesses, drove off the flocks, and hurried Chloe along
with them, as if she had been one of her own goats or sheep, striking
her ever and anon with vine twigs.
Their vessels being now filled with plunder of all kinds, the
Methymnæans thought it advisable not to prosecute their voyage farther,
but to return home, more especially as they were apprehensive of the
winter storms, and of an attack from the inhabitants. Accordingly they
put about; but, as there was no wind, they had to labour at their oars.
Daphnis, (when all was quiet) came down to the plain, the usual place
for pasturing their flocks, but not a goat, nor a sheep was to be seen,
nor was Chloe herself there: when he saw the whole place deserted,
and found Chloe's pipe thrown upon the ground, he burst into loud and
bitter lamentations:--he ran to the beech tree, which had been their
usual seat, and then to the ocean, to try if he could descry her, he
searched for her in the grotto, whither she had fled, and whence she
had been dragged away. Here, at last, he threw himself on the ground
in despair, and exclaimed against the Nymphs, as the deserters of his
Chloe.
"Chloe has been torn away from you, ye Nymphs, and yet ye could
endure to see it! she who has woven so many garlands for you, who has
poured so many libations of new milk to you, and whose pipe is here
suspended as an offering to you! Never did a wolf carry off a single
goat of mine, but marauders have now carried away all my flock, and
their mistress with them. --My goats will be flayed, my sheep will be
sacrificed, and my Chloe will henceforth be confined within a city! how
shall I venture to return to my father and mother without my goats,
and without my Chloe? --I, who shall appear a deserter of my charge! I
have no more flocks to tend, so here will I lie, till death take me,
or the enemy again lay hold of me. Ah! my Chloe, do you share in my
sufferings? --do you still remember these plains, these Nymphs and me;
or are you consoled by having the sheep and goats for your companions
in captivity? "
Thus did Daphnis vent his grief, till weary with weeping and lamenting
he fell into a deep sleep. While slumbering, the three Nymphs appeared
to stand before him; they were tall and beautiful, half-naked and
without sandals; their hair flowed loose over their shoulders, and
indeed in every respect they resembled their statues in the grotto. At
first they shewed signs of commiseration for Daphnis, and, presently,
the eldest of them addressed him in these consolatory words:--
"Do not accuse us, Daphnis; Chloe is an object of deeper anxiety to us,
than she is even to yourself. We had compassion on her when she was
an infant; when she was exposed in this grot, we adopted her and bred
her up. She is not Lamon's daughter, nor do Lamon's fields or herds in
any part belong to her. We have at this time been providing for her
safety, so that she shall not be taken to Methymne as a slave, nor be
numbered among the spoils. We have intreated Pan, (whose statue stands
beneath yonder pine, and whom you have never honoured even with a bunch
of flowers) to come forward as Chloe's champion, for he is more used
to warfare than we are, and has often quitted his rural groves to join
in the din of battle. He is on Chloe's side, and he will be found no
despicable enemy by the Methymnæans. Be not uneasy then, nor perplex
yourself; arise, shew yourself to Lamon and Myrtale, who have thrown
themselves on the earth in despair, under the idea that you too are
carried off by the enemy. To-morrow Chloe and her flocks shall return,
when you shall tend them together, and together shall play upon your
pipe. --Leave your future fates to the care of Love. "
After these words and vision in his dream, Daphnis sprang up, and,
while his eyes were filled with tears, partly of grief and partly of
joy, he paid his adorations to the statues of the Nymphs, and vowed,
that upon Chloe's safe return he would sacrifice a she-goat (the best
of his herd) to the protecting goddesses. Then he hastened to the
pine, beneath whose shade stood the statue of Pan. The legs of the
rural god were those of the goat, and he had a horned forehead; in one
hand he held a pipe, with the other he grasped a goat, which was in
the attitude of bounding. Daphnis adored his statue likewise, prayed
on behalf of Chloe, and vowed to sacrifice a he-goat for her safety.
Scarcely could he cease from his tears and intreaties by sun-set, when
taking up the green fodder which he had been cutting, he returned to
his home, where his presence dispelled Lamon's grief and filled him
with joy, After taking some refreshment he retired to rest; but his
sleep was not even then without tears. In his slumbers he poured forth
prayers to the Nymphs to bless him with another vision, and sighed for
the return of day, when his Chloe was to be restored.
--Of all nights
this appeared to him the longest. --During its continuance the following
events took place:--
When the Methymnæan commander had rowed somewhat more than a mile, he
wished to afford his men some rest, wearied as they were with their
past exertions. At length he espied a promontory, which projected
into the sea in a semicircular form, affording a harbour more calm
and secure than even a regular port. Here he anchored his fleet,
keeping his vessels at a distance from the shore, that they might not
be exposed to any attack from the inhabitants, while his men indulged
themselves at their ease and in all security. The crews having plenty
of all manner of provision among their plunder, eat and drank and gave
themselves up to joy, as if they had been celebrating a festival for
victory. The day was closing; and their merriment was being prolonged
to night, when suddenly all the earth appeared in a blaze; and the
dash of oars was heard, as if a mighty fleet were approaching. [9] They
called upon their commander to arm himself: they shouted to each other;
some fancied that they were wounded; others that they saw the bodies
of the slain before their eyes. It appeared like a night engagement
against an invisible enemy.
A day of greater terror succeeded to the darkness. The goats belonging
to Daphnis, appeared with branches full of ivy berries on their
horns: the rams and ewes, which had been taken with Chloe, instead of
bleating, howled like wolves. Their mistress was seen to have a garland
of pine-leaves round her head. The sea also had its marvels. The
anchors stuck fast in the mud, and could not be drawn up: when the men
dipped their oars in order to row, they were shattered in pieces. The
dolphins leaped from the sea, and with their tails broke the planks of
the vessels. From the top of the rock behind the promontory the sound
of a pipe was heard: but it did not, like the pipe, delight the ear
with dulcet sounds, but terrified like the harsh blast of a trumpet.
The men of Methymna were confounded; they seized their arms, and called
out to their enemies who were invisible; they prayed for the return of
night, which might bring a truce to their terrors.
To all those who were capable of reflection, it was evident, that
these phantasms and sounds proceeded from Pan, who must have conceived
some cause of indignation against them: but what the cause could be,
they were at a loss to conjecture, for they had not plundered any
thing which was sacred to the god. About the middle of the day their
commander (not without the intervention of the god) fell into a deep
sleep, when Pan appeared to him and addressed him thus:
"Ο most abandoned, most impious of men, to what lengths has your
madness driven you! The fields, which are dear to me, ye have filled
with the tumults of war: the herds and the flocks, which were my
peculiar care, ye have taken as plunder. Ye have dragged a virgin
from the altar, whom Cupid had reserved in order to adorn a Tale of
Love. Ye regarded not the Nymphs, who beheld your deeds, nor even the
mighty Pan. Never shall ye reach Methymna, sailing with these spoils,
nor shall yourselves escape the terrors of the pipe which has thus
confounded you. Unless ye immediately give back Chloe to the Nymphs,
and restore her goats and sheep, I will submerge you and ye shall
become food for fishes. Bestir yourselves, therefore, land both her and
them, I will guide your course by sea, and hers by land. "
Bryaxis (for such was the commander's name) awoke from his dream,
and immediately ordered the captain of every vessel to search among
his prisoners for Chloe. They soon found her, for she was sitting
still crowned with pine-leaves, and brought her before him. Bryaxis
regarded the ornament on her head as a proof and confirmation of what
he had seen in the vision, and without delay took her on board his
own vessel,[10] and conveyed her safe to the shore. No sooner had she
landed than the sound of the pipe was again heard from the rock: but
it was no longer dreadful like the blast of the war trumpet: on the
contrary it was sweet and pastoral in tone, as when the shepherd is
leading out his flock to feed. The sheep ran down the gangway,[11]
without their horny hoofs slipping. The goats, used to steep places,
proceeded still more venturesomely. Upon reaching the shore the flocks
formed themselves in a ring around Chloe, like a company of dancers,
skipping and bleating and exhibiting every symptom of joy; while the
sheep and goats and oxen belonging to the other shepherds remained
quiet in the holds of the vessels, as if knowing that the pipe, which
sounded, was not intended to summon them. While every one was struck
with astonishment, and celebrated the power of Pan, still stranger
sights appeared both by sea and land.
Before the crews had time to heave their anchors, the ships of
themselves began to make sail, and a dolphin, which leaped and played
on the waves, swam before the admiral's ship as guide. On the other
hand Chloe's goats and sheep were led by most ravishing music of the
pipe, which continued its notes, though the player was invisible: sheep
and goats continued to graze and pace gently onward listening with
delight to the melody.
It was the time of evening-pasture, when Daphnis from the summit of a
rock espied his Chloe and her flocks. Ο Pan! Ο ye Nymphs! he shouted
in rapture, and hurrying down into the plain threw himself into
Chloe's arms, fainted, and fell to the ground. The kisses and soothing
embraces of the maiden with some difficulty restored him to his
senses, after which he proceeded to their favourite beech-tree, under
the shade of which he sat down, and inquired how Chloe had escaped
from so many enemies. She related everything which had happened--the
appearance of the ivy around the goats' horns--the wolfish howling
of the sheep--the pine garland encircling her own temples--the blaze
of fire on the land--the unwonted noise at sea--the two discordant
notes of the pipe--that of war and that of peace--the terrors of the
night--and lastly, how the melody guided her hither, through fields
and over plains to which she was a stranger. Upon hearing this, Daphnis
recognized the vision of the Nymphs, and the influence of Pan, and
in his turn, he gave Chloe an account of all which he had seen and
heard. He informed her how when ready to destroy himself, he had been
preserved through the intervention of the Nymphs.
He then sent Chloe to summon Dryas and Lamon with their servants and to
desire them to bring every requisite for a sacrifice, while he in the
mean time took the choicest of his she-goats, crowned it with ivy (just
as it had appeared to the enemy on board of ship) poured milk between
its horns, and sacrificed it to the Nymphs. Then he hung it up and
flayed it, and suspended its skin as an offering to them.
Chloe now arrived with Lamon and the servants. A fire was immediately
kindled, upon which part of the goat's flesh was boiled and part of
it roasted. Daphnis offered the first portions to the Nymphs, and
poured out to them a libation of new must; he then piled some leaves
into the form of couches, reclined at his ease upon one of them, and
gave himself up to good cheer and mirth: but at the same time kept a
watchful eye on his sheep for fear a wolf should effect what the enemy
had been foiled in doing. After this the party sang the praises of the
Nymphs in songs, which had been indited by the shepherds of by-gone
days. They slept in the field that night, and in the morning remembered
Pan. The leader of the goats was selected from the herd; a chaplet of
pine-leaves was bound round his horns, and he was led to the statue,
which stood beneath the pine; when after pouring over him a libation of
wine,[12] carefully avoiding all ominous expressions, the victim was
slain, suspended, and flayed. The flesh, part of which was roasted and
part boiled, was spread out upon some dry leaves in the meadow. The
skin with the horns was hung up on the tree hard by the statue of the
god--a pastoral offering to a pastoral deity. A first portion also of
the flesh was offered, and libations poured to him from the largest
goblet. Chloe sang; while Daphnis piped.
Having discharged their religious rites, they were reclining on the
grass and feasting, when Philetas the herdsman accidentally came
by, bringing with him some garlands, and vine-branches, laden with
their clusters, as offerings to Pan. Tityrus, his youngest son, a
golden-haired, blue-eyed, fair and sportive boy followed him. At the
sight of Philetas, Daphnis and Chloe sprang from their grassy couch,
assisted in crowning Pan, and in suspending the clusters to the
tree, and then made Philetas seat himself by them, and join in their
carousal. Very soon, as old men do when their clay is moistened,[13]
they began to talk of their youthful adventures, of the flocks which
they had fed, of incursions of marauders, which they had escaped in the
days when they were young. One prided himself on having slain a wolf:
another boasted, that in piping he was second to Pan alone. --This was
the boast of Philetas.
Daphnis and Chloe used urgent entreaties that he would teach them
the art, and that he would play on the pipe at the festival of that
deity, who delights in its melody. The old man complained that age had
shortened his powers of breath, but complied with their request, and
took up the pipe of Daphnis. It was a pipe too small to do justice to
so great an art; being suited only for a boy. Accordingly he despatched
Tityrus to bring his own pipe from the cottage, which was rather more
than a mile off. The boy threw aside his cloak,[14] and darted off like
a young fawn. Lamon, in the mean time, promised to amuse them with the
legend of the Syrinx,[15] (or pipe) which he had heard from a Sicilian
shepherd, who received a he-goat and a pipe as the price of his song.
"This pipe was not formerly what it is now, an instrument of music:
it was once a maiden of beautiful form, and melodious voice. She fed
her flocks, she sported with the Nymphs, and the sound of her voice
was sweet as it is now. Pan beheld the maiden feeding her flocks,
disporting herself, and singing. He approached her, and endeavoured
to win her to his will, promising her as an enticement that all her
she-goats should bear two kids at a birth. The maiden laughed at his
suit, and replied that she would never think of accepting as a lover,
one who was neither man nor goat, but a compound half of each. --Pan was
preparing to offer violence: the maiden fled from him, and when weary
with running, hid herself among the reeds of a lake and disappeared.
Her pursuer in a rage cut the reeds, but finding no damsel there,
and perceiving what had taken place, he in memory of her formed this
instrument. Compacting with wax unequal reeds in order to shew how the
course of their love had not run smooth. [16]--Thus she, who was once a
beauteous maiden, is now a musical pipe: the instrument inheriting her
name. "
While Philetas was commending Lamon's legend, which, he said, was more
pleasing than any song, Tityrus appeared with his father's pipe, a
large instrument formed of the largest reeds, and ornamented with brass
over the junctures of the wax. A person might have imagined it to be
the very pipe whose reeds had been first united by Pan. Philetas rose
up, placed himself upon a seat in an erect posture, and began to try
whether the reeds were in good order: he found the air pass through
them freely, and then with as much energy as if he had been in the
prime of youth, he blew a note so vigorous and full, that it appeared
like a band of pipers playing in concert. By degrees he moderated the
vehemence of his tones, and turned them into a softer strain. He ran
through all the variations of pastoral melody; he played the tune,
which the oxen obey, that which attracts the goats, that in which the
sheep delight. The notes for the sheep were sweet, those for the oxen
deep, those for the goats were shrill. In short, his single pipe could
express the tones of every pipe which is played upon.
Those present lay listening in silent delight; when Dryas rose up, and
desired Philetas to strike up the Bacchanalian tune. Philetas obeyed,
and Dryas began[17] the vintage-dance, in which he represented the
plucking of the grapes, the carrying of the baskets,--the treading
of the clusters, the filling of the casks, and the drinking of the
new-made wine. All this Dryas imitated so closely and admirably in
his pantomimic dance, that the spectator might fancy the wines, the
wine-press, and the casks to be actually before him, and that Dryas was
drinking in reality.
Each of the three old men had now severally distinguished himself.
Dryas, in his delight gave Daphnis and Chloe a kiss, who immediately
sprang from their seats, and began to dance a ballet representative
of Lamon's fable. Daphnis assumed the character of Pan, and Chloe
that of Syrinx. While he endeavoured to entice her to his embraces,
she smiled in scorn at his attempts. He pursued her, and ran upon his
tiptoes in imitation of the cloven feet of the god: while she making a
semblance of exhaustion, at last hid herself in the wood, making it a
substitute for reedy lake. Upon losing sight of her, Daphnis seizing
the large pipe of Philetas, breathed into it a mournful strain as of
one who loves; then a love-sick strain as of one who pleads; lastly and
recalling strain, as of one who seeks her whom he has lost.
Philetas himself was astonished, and ran and embraced the youth and
kissed him: and with a prayer, that Daphnis might transmit the pipe
to as worthy a successor, bestowed it on him as a gift. The youth
suspended his own pipe as an offering to Pan, kissed Chloe with as much
ardour as if she had really been lost and found again, and led his
flocks home by the sound of his new instrument. Chloe also (as night
was coming on) conducted her sheep homeward to the music of her pipe.
The goats kept close by the sheep, as Daphnis kept close by Chloe.
In this manner did they enjoy each other's company, till night-fall,
when they agreed to meet earlier at the pasture the next morning,
an arrangement which they punctually fulfilled. As soon as the day
dawned, they were in the fields. They paid their adorations to the
Nymphs first, and then to Pan, afterwards retiring from their devotions
to their seat under the shade of the oak, where they played their
accustomed melodies. They interchanged kisses and embraces, and lay
down side-by-side, but this was all; then rising, they bethought them
of their meal, at which they partook of milk and wine.
Becoming gradually warmed and emboldened by all this they began to
enter into an amorous revelry, and to swear perpetual affection and
fidelity. Daphnis advanced to the sacred pine, and called Pan to
witness, that he would never live apart from his Chloe--no--not for
the space of a single day. Chloe entered the Grotto, and swore by the
Nymphs, that she would live and die with Daphnis: and in the simplicity
of her heart, upon coming out, she required that Daphnis should bind
himself by a second oath; "for," (said the maiden) "my dear Daphnis,
Pan himself, by whom you swore, is a lover, and yet unfaithful. He
loved Pitys, he loved Syrinx, and yet he never ceases from pestering
the Dryads with his addresses, or from causing annoyance to the
Epimelian Nymphs, the guardians of our herds. He who breaks his own
vows will hardly punish you, even if you should attach yourself to more
damsels than there are reeds in this pipe. Come, dearest Daphnis, you
must swear by this herd and by the she-goat, which nursed you, that,
while Chloe is faithful to you, you will never desert her; on the other
hand if Chloe should ever do despite to you, and to the Nymphs--fly
from her--detest her--kill her, as you would kill a wolf. "
Daphnis, delighted even at her mistrust, which shewed the warmth of
her affection, placed himself in the midst of his herd, and taking
hold of a she-goat with one hand, and a he-goat with the other, swore
to be true to Chloe, while she was true to him; and that if she should
ever prefer another before him, he would put an end not to her but to
himself.
Chloe was happy:--for she believed him with all the simplicity of a
girl, and of a shepherdess, and of one who thought that the sheep and
the goats were the fitting and peculiar deities of those who tended
them.
[Footnote 1:
"Hic innocentis pocula Lesbii
Duces sub umbrâ; nec Semeleïus
Cum Marte confundet Thyoneus
Prœlia. "--Hor. I. Od. xvii. 21.
"The Lesbian wine would seem to have possessed a delicious flavour; for
it is said to have deserved the name of Ambrosia rather than of wine,
and to have been like nectar when old. In Athenæus this wine is called
οἰνάριον, _vinulum_, 'the little wine,' to which Bacchus gave ἀτέλειαν,
an innocence and immunity from drunkenness. Horace terms the Lesbian
an innocent or unintoxicating wine; but it was the prevailing opinion
among the ancients, that all sweet wines were less injurious to the
head, and less apt to cause intoxication, than strong dry wines. By
Pliny, however, the growths of Chios and Thasos are placed before the
Lesbian, which he affirms had naturally a saltish taste. "--Henderson's
Hist. of Ancient and Modern Wines, p. 77. ]
[Footnote 2: When the grapes were ripe, (σταφυλή) the bunches were
gathered, any which remained unripe (ὅμφαξ) were carefully removed,
and the rest carried from the vineyard in deep baskets (ἀρρίχοι)
to be poured into a vat (ληνός) in which they were trodden by men,
who had the lower part of their bodies naked, except that they wore
drawers. When sufficiently trodden, the grapes were subjected to the
more powerful pressure of a thick and heavy beam (for which λίθος,
in Longus, seems the substitute), for the purpose of obtaining all
the juice yet remaining in them. Vine branches were very frequently
employed as torches. --Vide Scholiast on Aristoph. Lys. 291. ]
[Footnote 3: Compare the description of the garden in Achilles Tatius,
1. 15, and that of Virgil's "senex Corycius. " G. iv, 125-146. ]
[Footnote 4:
. . . . Love's heralds should be thoughts,
Which ten times faster glide than the sun-beams.
Romeo and Juliet.
]
[Footnote 5:
Oἶoν ἄρχει βρέφος ὀυρανοῦ καὶ γῆς, καὶ θαλάττης.
Achilles Tatius.
"At his sight the sun hath turned;
Neptune on the waters burned;
Hell hath felt a greater heat;
Jove himself forsook his seat;
From the centre to the sky
Are his trophies reared high. "
Ben Jonson, Hue and Cry after Cupid.
See also the fine chorus in the Antigone, 781-790. ]
[Footnote 6: The power of love over the brute creation. --Virg. G. iii.
211-257. ]
[Footnote 7: φίλημα, καὶ περιβολή, καὶ σνγκα-ακλιθῆναι γυμνοῖς σώμασι. ]
[Footnote 8:
Ροίζῳ--"Πολλῇ δὲ ῥοιζῳ πρὸς ὄρος τρέπε πίονα μῆλα. "
Odys. ix. 315.
"Then hissing them along he drove his flocks. "--Cowper.
]
[Footnote 9:
. . . . "φόβος δὲ πᾶσι βαρβάροις παρῆν
γνώμης αποσφαλεῖσιν.
. . . . . .
εὐθὺς δὲ κώπης ῥοθιάδος ξυνεμβoλῇ
ἔπαισαν ἄλμην βρύχιου ἐκ κελεύσματος. "
Æsch. Persæ, 391.
For the good service done by Pan to the Athenians at Marathon, he was
rewarded with a temple. --Herod. vi. 405. ]
[Footnote 10: ἐπ αὐτῆς τῆς ναυηχίδος, literally, in the admiral. ]
[Footnote 11: κατὰ τῆς αποβάθρας. ]
[Footnote 12: εὑφημοῦντες. Especial care was taken during a sacrifice,
that no inauspicious or frivolous words were uttered by any of the
bystanders; hence the admonitions of the priest,--εῦφημεῖτε, εὐφημία,
σιγᾶτε, σιωπᾶτε, favete linguis, and others; for improper expressions
were thought not only to pollute the sacred act, but to be unlucky
omens.
"Male ominatis,
Parcite verbis. "
Hor. iii. Od. xiv. 11.
]
[Footnote 13: υπoβεβρεγμένoι. ]
[Footnote 14: ἐγκόμβωμα. ]
[Footnote 15: See the legend in Ovid Met. i. 689. ]
[Footnote 16: άνίσους, καθ' ὃτι καὶ ὁ ἔρως ἄνισος αὐτοῖς. ]
[Footnote 17: "La Pantomime est le premier langage de l'homme; elle est
connue de toutes les nations. "--Bernardin de St. Pierre.
On the subject of the Pantomimic dance, common to Greece and Italy, see
Dict. of Greek and Rom. Antiq. p. 713. ]
BOOK III.
When the inhabitants of Mitylene heard of the descent made by the ten
vessels, and had been informed by some coming from the spot of the
plunder which had been carried off, they were of opinion that such an
injury on the part of the Methymnæans was insufferable, and immediately
raised a force of three thousand infantry and five hundred cavalry,
which they put under the command of Hippasus with orders, that he
should lead his men by land, and not embark them on board of ship, as a
voyage in the winter season would be dangerous.
The general began his march, but he did not lay waste the country of
the enemy, nor did he plunder the possessions of the husbandman, or of
the shepherd, thinking such petty warfare suitable to a captain of a
banditti, rather than to the leader of an army. He hastened his march
in order to reach the gates of the city and attack the inhabitants
while they were off their guard. When his troops approached within
eleven miles of the city, a herald came out to them with proposals for
a truce. The Methymnæans had discovered from the prisoners, that the
citizens of Mitylene were ignorant of the beginning of the affray,[1]
and that the insolence of their own young men had drawn upon them the
vengeance inflicted by the herdsmen and shepherds.
