]
[Footnote 8:
Ροίζῳ--"Πολλῇ δὲ ῥοιζῳ πρὸς ὄρος τρέπε πίονα μῆλα.
[Footnote 8:
Ροίζῳ--"Πολλῇ δὲ ῥοιζῳ πρὸς ὄρος τρέπε πίονα μῆλα.
Scriptori Erotici Graeci
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. They repented,
accordingly, of having acted precipitately rather than prudently
towards a neighbouring city, and were desirous to restore all their
plunder, in order that friendly intercourse by sea and land might be
restored. Although Hippasus had full powers given him of acting as he
thought proper, he ordered the herald to proceed to Mitylene, while he
pitched his camp about a mile from the enemy's city, and waited for the
answer of his fellow-citizens. In two days a messenger arrived with
orders for him to refrain from any act of hostility, to receive the
restored booty, and to return home; for since the declaration of peace
or war rested on the decision of the people, they considered peace far
preferable.
Thus did the war between Methymne and Mitylene begin and end in an
equally unexpected manner.
Winter, however, was more formidable to Daphnis and Chloe, than war
had been. On a sudden heavy falls of snow blocked up the roads, and
shut up the cottagers within doors. Impetuous torrents rushed down from
the mountains, the ice thickened, the trees[2] seemed as though their
branches were broken down beneath the weight of snow, and the whole
face of the earth had disappeared except about the brinks of fountains
and the borders of rivers.
No one led his flocks to pasture, or even ventured to stir from home;
but lighting large fires, at cock-crowing, some employed themselves in
twisting ropes, some in weaving goats' hair, and some in making snares
and nets to catch birds. At the same time they took care to supply the
oxen in their stalls with chaff, the goats and sheep in their cotes
with leaves, and the hogs in their styes with holm-berries and acorns.
As every one was of necessity confined within-doors,[3] most of the
labourers and shepherds were glad at having an interval of release
from their wonted labours, and immediately after their morning-meal
lay down, and enjoyed a lengthy sleep, winter appearing to them more
pleasant than the summer, the autumn, or even the spring. But Daphnis
and Chloe cherished in their memory the pleasures, of which they were
now deprived,--their kisses, their embraces, and their happy meals
together. They passed nights of sleeplessness and sorrow, and looked
for the return of spring as a restoration to life after an interval of
death. It was painful to them, if chance threw in their way a scrip,
from which they had eaten, or a vessel from which they had drunk, or
if they happened to cast their eyes on a pipe, now thrown aside with
neglect, which had once been bestowed and received as a token of love.
Frequent were their prayers to the Nymphs, and to Pan, to deliver them
from their troubles, and once more to let the sun shine upon them and
their herds, and while thus engaged they also endeavoured to devise
some scheme, by which they might obtain a sight of one another. Chloe
was quite at a loss, and could not contrive any plan, successfully, for
her reputed mother was always sitting near her, teaching her to card
wool and to turn the spindle, and touching upon the subject of marriage.
Daphnis, however, had greater quickness of invention, and more leisure
than the maiden, and hit upon the following scheme for getting a
sight of Chloe. Two lofty myrtle trees and an ivy grew before Dryas's
cottage, and indeed under the very cottage itself. The ivy grew between
the myrtle trees, throwing out on either side, its sprays like a vine,
and forming an arbour by intermingling its leaves with theirs. The
berries hung down in thick clusters, and were as large as grapes.
Numbers of winter birds flocked thither from want of food elsewhere;
such as blackbirds, thrushes, wood-pigeons, starlings, and a variety
of others, which live on berries. Daphnis filled his scrip with some
honeyed cakes, and quitted his home under pretence of going to catch
some of these birds. To remove all suspicion of his real design he
carried with him plenty of birdlime and snares. The distance was little
more than a mile, but the frost and the snow, which had not yet melted,
rendered the road very toilsome. To LOVE, however, all things are
passable--fire, and water, and even Scythian snows. Having soon arrived
at the cottage, he shook the snow from his legs and feet, set the
snares, spread the birdlime, and seated himself in the arbour watching
the birds, but thinking of Chloe. So many were very soon caught, that
he had abundance of occupation in collecting them together, killing
and plucking them. In the mean time, not a man, not a maiden, not even
a domestic fowl came out of the cottage: the whole family were shut
up and close around the fire. Daphnis was now utterly at a loss what
to do, and thought that he had come at an unlucky time. He determined
to knock at the door if he could find any pretext, and began to
consider what would appear most plausible. "What, if I say that I
want a light to kindle our fire? they will reply 'you have neighbours
within a stone's throw of your cottage. ' What, if I request something
to eat? --'your scrip is full of victuals. ' What, if I ask for some
wine? --'you have but lately got in the vintage. ' What, if I exclaim
that a wolf has been pursuing me? --'where are the traces of his feet? '
What, if I tell them I came to snare birds? --'why not go home again, if
you have had sport enough? ' Shall I at once say that I have come to see
Chloe? Ah! who will venture to make such a bold avowal to the father
and mother of the maiden? My pleas will be all exhausted and I shall
be reduced to silence. Since none of these excuses will pass free from
suspicion, it were better to hold my tongue. It seems decreed by the
Fates that I shall not see my Chloe during the winter; I must wait with
patience until the spring. "
After indulging in some such thoughts as these, he took up his game,
and was preparing to depart, when, as if Love took pity on him, the
following occurrence happened.
The family within had spread their table: the meat was portioned out;
a slice of bread was placed for each, and the goblet was ready mixed.
One of the sheep-dogs, who had watched his opportunity, when no person
was observing him, seized a piece of meat, and made his escape. Dryas
(for the stolen meat happened to be his portion) snatched up a club,
and pursued the thief, following him up like a second dog. Daphnis
had thrown the birds over his shoulder, and was just about hurrying
away when Dryas espied him. At the sight of Daphnis he immediately
forgot both meat and dog, called out after him, "Good morrow, my son! "
ran to him, embraced him, took him by the hand, and led him into the
house. When the lovers saw each other, they were very near sinking
to the ground; however, they continued to support themselves, while
they saluted and embraced: indeed their embrace acted as a stay, and
prevented them from falling.
Having thus contrary to his expectation obtained an interview with his
Chloe and a kiss, Daphnis drew nearer to the fire, and sat down: then
taking the wood-pigeons and thrushes from his shoulder threw them upon
the table, while he related to the family the weariness which he felt
from so long and tedious a confinement at home, the eagerness with
which he set out in pursuit of some sport, and the manner in which he
caught the birds, some with a snare, some with birdlime, when they
came in search of the myrtle and ivy berries. The family praised his
activity, and compared him to "Apollo the far-darting;" and urged him
to partake of what the dog had fortunately left; desiring Chloe in the
mean time to pour him out wherewithal to drink. She cheerfully complied
and handed the goblet to all the others first, last of all to Daphnis,
pretending to be affronted with him, for having come thither and
intending to go away without asking to see her: nevertheless, before
holding the beaker out to him, she sipped[4] a little from it, and then
presented it; upon which he, although thirsty, drank as leisurely as
possible, in order to prolong his pleasure, by protracting his draught.
The table was soon cleared of the fragments of bread and meat: after
which, as they were sitting by the fire, they began to inquire after
Myrtale and Lamon, who were pronounced fortunate in having such an
excellent provider for their old age. Daphnis was delighted at having
these commendations pronounced upon him in the hearing of Chloe, and
when her parents proceeded to insist upon his remaining with them
till next day, when they intended to sacrifice to Bacchus, he was
very nearly adoring them in lieu of the god. He immediately produced
his store of honeyed cakes from his scrip, together with the birds,
which he had caught, which they dressed for supper. A second goblet
was mixed; and a second fire was lighted. Night soon came on, when
they partook of a hearty meal; and at its conclusion, after telling
stories, and singing songs, they retired to rest. Chloe slept with her
mother, and Daphnis with Dryas. Chloe's only pleasure was the thought
of seeing Daphnis the next morning; Daphnis enjoyed a kind of hollow
satisfaction, even from sleeping with Chloe's father, whom he hugged
and kissed, dreaming all the while, that the embraces were being
bestowed upon Chloe.
When the day broke the cold was intense, and the sharp north wind was
parching up every thing. Dryas and his family arose, sacrificed a ram
of one year old to Bacchus, and lighted a large fire to boil the meat.
Nape made the bread, while Dryas attended to the meat, and, while
they were thus engaged, Daphnis and Chloe proceeded to the ivy-covered
arbour, where they set snares and spread birdlime, and again caught
no small quantity of birds. Kisses and delightful converse were
continuously interchanged between them.
"I came hither entirely on your account, Chloe. "
"I know it, my dear Daphnis. "
"On your account it is that these poor blackbirds now perish; what
place have I in your affections? Do think of me! "
"I do think of you, my Daphnis, I swear it by the Nymphs whom I once
invoked in that Grotto, whither we will repair again so soon as the
snow shall have melted. "
"The snow lies very thick; I fear that I shall melt away, before it
does. "
"Do not despair, Daphnis, the sun is very warm. "
"Would that it were as warm as the fire which burns my heart! "
"You are in jest: you are deceiving me, Daphnis. "
"No! I am not; I swear it by the goats, whom at your bidding I invoked. "
Chloe's reply was an echo to what Daphnis said. Nape now calling them,
they hurried into the house with a much larger supply of game than
Daphnis had taken the day before. First pouring out a libation to
Bacchus, from the goblet, they sat down to their banquet with chaplets
of ivy on their heads. When it was time to part, after loudly shouting
in honour of the god, Daphnis took his leave, Dryas and his wife having
filled his bag with meat and bread, and insisting upon his carrying
the wood-pigeons and thrushes home to Lamon and Myrtale; for, as they
said, they should be able to catch as many as they pleased so long as
the cold lasted and the ivy berries did not fail. At length Daphnis
bade them farewell, and at his departure gave each of them a kiss,
but he saluted Chloe last of all, that her kiss might remain pure and
unalloyed upon his lips.
He frequently found out pretences for paying them fresh visits; so that
the winter did not pass by altogether without an interchange of love.
In the opening of spring, when the snow was melted, the face of
the earth again uncovered and the grass beginning to grow,[5] the
shepherds and herdsmen led forth their flocks to the pastures, but
Daphnis and Chloe were earlier than the others, inasmuch as they were
under the guidance of a mightier shepherd (Love). The first place to
which they hastened, was the grotto of the Nymphs; the next was the
pine-tree, where stood the statue of Pan; they then proceeded to the
oak, under which, sitting down, they watched their feeding flocks, and
kissed and embraced each other. Wishing to crown the statues of the
deities, they sought for flowers: these were but just beginning to come
out under the mild influence of the zephyr, and the genial warmth of
the sun; but they found the violet, the narcissus, and the pimpernel,
and all the other firstlings of the year: with these they crowned the
statues, and then poured out libations of new milk drawn from the
ewes and the she-goats. After this ceremony they began to tune their
pastoral pipes, as though challenging the nightingales to resume their
song: these answered softly from the thickets, and gradually became
perfect in their plaintive strains, as if recalling them slowly after
so long a silence. [6]
The sheep were heard bleating, while the lambs were seen to frisk
about, or stooping under their mothers drew the teat; the rams pursued
and leaped upon those which had never lambed. The he-goats did the
like, contending for their mates, each making choice of his own, and
guarding her from the approach of a rival.
All these objects might have kindled love even in hoary age; they who
were in the bloom of youth, full of vigour, and long since warmed by
desire, were inflamed by such sounds, melted at such sights, and
longed for something beyond a kiss and an embrace.
Especially was this the case with Daphnis. He had passed the whole
winter in the house, and in a state of inactivity, he therefore was
more impetuous than ever in his desire for kissing and embracing Chloe,
and became bolder and more inquisitive in all love matters. He urged
her to grant him all his wishes; and proposed that they should lie side
by side, naked, since of the precepts given by Philetas for curing
love, this remained untried. She inquired what there possibly could be
besides kisses, embraces, and reclining side by side; why did he wish
that they should recline together naked?
"I wish," said he "to follow the example of the rams and ewes; of
the male goats and their females. --After their amorous sport, the
females no longer flee, and the males no longer pursue; but both feed
quietly together, as if they felt a mutual pleasure. There must be
some gratification in what they do; something which cures the sting of
love. "[7] "But," returned Chloe, "the postures of the sheep and goats
are very different from ours; the males leap upon the females from
behind; this is out of the question with us; besides, you wish me to
lie beside you naked, whereas they have a thick covering given them by
nature. "
Daphnis admitted the reasonableness of this; so after lying by her
side, as usual, for a considerable time, ignorant how to gratify his
passions, he got up and actually shed tears, at being less expert in
love than a silly sheep.
They had a neighbour named Chromis, who farmed some land of his own. He
was growing old, but his wife, who came from the city, was young, good
looking, and superior in manners to the common rustics; her name was
Lycænium. Seeing Daphnis driving his goats past her house, conducting
them to pasture in the morning, and home again in the evening, she was
very desirous of enticing him into love by means of presents.
Upon one occasion, watching until he was alone, she gave him a pipe,
a honeycomb, and a scrip of deer-skin. She did not say anything at
the time, suspecting his affection for Chloe, by seeing him always in
her company. Hitherto, however, her knowledge of the fact was founded
only upon having seen nods and laughter exchanged between them. Not
long after, pretending to Chromis in the morning that she was going to
visit a neighbour in the pains of childbirth, she followed the lovers,
and concealed herself in a thicket, in order to avoid discovery; from
thence she saw and heard everything which passed between them, and
was a witness of the tears shed by Daphnis under his disappointment.
Commiserating their trouble, and conceiving the present a good
opportunity to promote their wishes, and to gratify her own desires,
she had recourse to the following expedient.
The next morning, under cover of the same excuse as on the previous
day, she went straight to the oak where Daphnis and Chloe were sitting
together; then admirably counterfeiting a state of great alarm, she
exclaimed, "Come to my aid, I entreat you, Daphnis, an eagle has
carried off the finest among my twenty geese; and unable to bear it to
yonder high rock, has fallen with it in the neighbouring low wood. In
the name of Pan and the Nymphs come into the wood and rescue my goose,
I am afraid to enter it by myself. Do not let me have my number made
imperfect; besides you may perhaps kill the eagle, and will then no
longer be in dread of having your lambs carried away. --Chloe will, in
the meantime, mind your flocks, the goats know her as well as they do
you, from your being always in company. "
Daphnis, having no suspicions of her motives, got up and followed
Lycænium, who led him as far as possible from Chloe; upon arriving in
the thickest of the wood, near a fountain, she bid him sit down beside
her. --"You are in love, Daphnis," she said; "the Nymphs informed me of
this, last night; they told me of the tears which you shed yesterday,
and have commanded me, for the sake of your relief, to teach you love's
mysteries. These are not limited to kisses and embraces, and the doing
what is done by the rams and goats;[8] they result in much greater
pleasure, and are longer in duration. If, therefore, you wish to be
freed from your pains, and to make trial of the sweets which you so
long for, you must become my willing pupil, and out of regard to the
Nymphs I will be your instructress. " Daphnis could scarcely contain
himself for joy, but rustic as he was, a goatherd, young and in love,
he threw himself at Lycænium's feet, entreating her to teach him with
all speed the art of gratifying his passion for Chloe. --Moreover, as if
about to learn something very mysterious and wonderful, he promised to
reward her pains with a kid, some cheeses made of the first new milk,
and the she-goat herself. Finding the young shepherd so liberal in his
offers, she began to tutor him. She made him sit close to her, bidding
him kiss and embrace her, and lastly lie down beside her, as was his
wont with Chloe. After this, seeing his amorous ardour, she received
him into her arms, and, aided by nature, led him to the wished-for
consummation. [9]
When this amorous lesson was concluded, Daphnis, in his simplicity, was
upon the point of hurrying back to Chloe, to put in practice what he
had learnt, for fear lest through delaying he might forget it. Lycænium
however stopped him, saying,--"You have something more yet to learn,
Daphnis,--I am a full grown woman, and have felt no inconvenience
from what has taken place; I was instructed in this art by another
man, who received my maidenhead as his reward;--but Chloe, when she
engages in this amorous contest, will cry out, and shed tears, and
suffer inconvenience; however, you must not mind all this; so when
you find her in a compliant humour, bring her to this wood, where you
will be free from all intrusion,--and remember, that you have had me
for your instructress previous to Chloe. "[10] Lycænium, after giving
him this advice, retired to another part of the wood as if still in
search of the lost goose. Daphnis, reflecting upon what she had said,
restrained his former impetuosity,[11] fearing to be the cause of any
pain and inconvenience to Chloe; and determining to solace himself with
her only in the accustomed manner, he issued from the wood. Upon his
return he found her weaving a chaplet of violets; so, pretending that
he had delivered the goose from the talons of the eagle, he threw his
arms around her and embraced her, since in this at least there could
be no danger. She placed the chaplet upon his head, and kissed his
hair, which, in her estimation was far preferable to the violets. Then
producing from her scrip a cake of figs and bread, she gave him some,
then snatching the morsels from his mouth, eat them herself, like the
youngling of a bird.
While they were at their meal, which, however, consisted more of kisses
than of food, a fishing boat was seen proceeding along the coast.
There was no wind stirring; a perfect calm prevailed: so having taken
to their oars, the crew were rowing vigorously, their object being to
carry some newly caught fish to a rich man in the city. They dipped
their oars, doing what sailors usually do to beguile their toil. The
boatswain[12] sung a sea-song, and the rest joined in chorus at
stated intervals. When they were in the open sea, the sound was lost,
their voices being dispersed into the air, but when running under a
headland they came into any hollow and crescent-shaped bay, the sound
became much louder, and the song of the boatswain was distinctly
heard on shore. A deep valley here sloped down from the plain above,
which received into it the sound, as into an instrument of music, and
repeated with the most perfect imitation every note which was uttered.
There could be heard the distinction between the dash of the oars, and
the voices of the sailors; and a very pleasing sound it was; beginning
on the sea, the duration of its echo upon shore was proportioned to its
greater lateness in commencing.
Daphnis, understanding the nature of the echo, turned his attention
solely to the sea, and was delighted with viewing the boat as it
glided by the shore quicker than a bird could fly. At the same time
he endeavoured to store up some of these strains in his memory, that
he might play them on his pipe. Chloe, who had never, till now, heard
what is called an echo, turned first to the sea, and listened to
the boatmen, as they sang, and then looked round to the woods, in
expectation of seeing those, who (as she thought) were singing in
responsive chorus.
At length the rowers were out of sight, and all was silent, even in
the valley; when Chloe inquired of Daphnis whether there was another
sea behind the hill, and another boat, and other sailors, who all sang
the same strain, and who all left off together. Daphnis sweetly smiled
upon her, and gave her a still sweeter kiss, and putting the chaplet of
violets on her head, proceeded to relate to her the legendary tale of
Echo, upon condition of receiving ten kisses for his pains.
"There are various classes of the Nymphs, my love;--the Melians, who
dwell among the ash-groves, the Dryads, who preside over the oaks, and
the Elæan, who are guardians of the lakes. Echo[13] was the daughter
of one of these Nymphs: as her mother was beautiful, so was she, but
as her father was a mortal, she also was the same. She was brought up
by the Nymphs, and was taught by the Muses to play upon the pipe, the
flute, the lyre, and the harp, in short she was instructed in every
species of music; so that when the maiden arrived at the flower of her
youth, she danced with the Nymphs, and sang with the Muses. Attached to
the state of maidenhood, she shunned the sight of all males, whether
men or gods. This roused the indignation of Pan; jealous of her skill
in music, and irritated by her refusal of his advances, the god
inspired the shepherds and herdsmen with such frenzy, that they rushed
upon her like so many hounds or wolves, tore her in pieces, and threw
in every direction, her limbs, yet sending forth melodious sounds.
Earth, in order to gratify the Nymphs, covered the maiden's limbs, but
preserved to her the gift of song; and, by the will of the Muses, she
still has the power of utterance, and, as when alive, still imitates
all sounds; the voices of the gods--of men--of instruments--of animals,
even of Pan himself when playing on his pipe. He, when he hears the
sound, springs up, and rushes in pursuit over the mountains, not in
order to bend her to his wishes, but to find out who can be this his
hidden pupil.
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. They repented,
accordingly, of having acted precipitately rather than prudently
towards a neighbouring city, and were desirous to restore all their
plunder, in order that friendly intercourse by sea and land might be
restored. Although Hippasus had full powers given him of acting as he
thought proper, he ordered the herald to proceed to Mitylene, while he
pitched his camp about a mile from the enemy's city, and waited for the
answer of his fellow-citizens. In two days a messenger arrived with
orders for him to refrain from any act of hostility, to receive the
restored booty, and to return home; for since the declaration of peace
or war rested on the decision of the people, they considered peace far
preferable.
Thus did the war between Methymne and Mitylene begin and end in an
equally unexpected manner.
Winter, however, was more formidable to Daphnis and Chloe, than war
had been. On a sudden heavy falls of snow blocked up the roads, and
shut up the cottagers within doors. Impetuous torrents rushed down from
the mountains, the ice thickened, the trees[2] seemed as though their
branches were broken down beneath the weight of snow, and the whole
face of the earth had disappeared except about the brinks of fountains
and the borders of rivers.
No one led his flocks to pasture, or even ventured to stir from home;
but lighting large fires, at cock-crowing, some employed themselves in
twisting ropes, some in weaving goats' hair, and some in making snares
and nets to catch birds. At the same time they took care to supply the
oxen in their stalls with chaff, the goats and sheep in their cotes
with leaves, and the hogs in their styes with holm-berries and acorns.
As every one was of necessity confined within-doors,[3] most of the
labourers and shepherds were glad at having an interval of release
from their wonted labours, and immediately after their morning-meal
lay down, and enjoyed a lengthy sleep, winter appearing to them more
pleasant than the summer, the autumn, or even the spring. But Daphnis
and Chloe cherished in their memory the pleasures, of which they were
now deprived,--their kisses, their embraces, and their happy meals
together. They passed nights of sleeplessness and sorrow, and looked
for the return of spring as a restoration to life after an interval of
death. It was painful to them, if chance threw in their way a scrip,
from which they had eaten, or a vessel from which they had drunk, or
if they happened to cast their eyes on a pipe, now thrown aside with
neglect, which had once been bestowed and received as a token of love.
Frequent were their prayers to the Nymphs, and to Pan, to deliver them
from their troubles, and once more to let the sun shine upon them and
their herds, and while thus engaged they also endeavoured to devise
some scheme, by which they might obtain a sight of one another. Chloe
was quite at a loss, and could not contrive any plan, successfully, for
her reputed mother was always sitting near her, teaching her to card
wool and to turn the spindle, and touching upon the subject of marriage.
Daphnis, however, had greater quickness of invention, and more leisure
than the maiden, and hit upon the following scheme for getting a
sight of Chloe. Two lofty myrtle trees and an ivy grew before Dryas's
cottage, and indeed under the very cottage itself. The ivy grew between
the myrtle trees, throwing out on either side, its sprays like a vine,
and forming an arbour by intermingling its leaves with theirs. The
berries hung down in thick clusters, and were as large as grapes.
Numbers of winter birds flocked thither from want of food elsewhere;
such as blackbirds, thrushes, wood-pigeons, starlings, and a variety
of others, which live on berries. Daphnis filled his scrip with some
honeyed cakes, and quitted his home under pretence of going to catch
some of these birds. To remove all suspicion of his real design he
carried with him plenty of birdlime and snares. The distance was little
more than a mile, but the frost and the snow, which had not yet melted,
rendered the road very toilsome. To LOVE, however, all things are
passable--fire, and water, and even Scythian snows. Having soon arrived
at the cottage, he shook the snow from his legs and feet, set the
snares, spread the birdlime, and seated himself in the arbour watching
the birds, but thinking of Chloe. So many were very soon caught, that
he had abundance of occupation in collecting them together, killing
and plucking them. In the mean time, not a man, not a maiden, not even
a domestic fowl came out of the cottage: the whole family were shut
up and close around the fire. Daphnis was now utterly at a loss what
to do, and thought that he had come at an unlucky time. He determined
to knock at the door if he could find any pretext, and began to
consider what would appear most plausible. "What, if I say that I
want a light to kindle our fire? they will reply 'you have neighbours
within a stone's throw of your cottage. ' What, if I request something
to eat? --'your scrip is full of victuals. ' What, if I ask for some
wine? --'you have but lately got in the vintage. ' What, if I exclaim
that a wolf has been pursuing me? --'where are the traces of his feet? '
What, if I tell them I came to snare birds? --'why not go home again, if
you have had sport enough? ' Shall I at once say that I have come to see
Chloe? Ah! who will venture to make such a bold avowal to the father
and mother of the maiden? My pleas will be all exhausted and I shall
be reduced to silence. Since none of these excuses will pass free from
suspicion, it were better to hold my tongue. It seems decreed by the
Fates that I shall not see my Chloe during the winter; I must wait with
patience until the spring. "
After indulging in some such thoughts as these, he took up his game,
and was preparing to depart, when, as if Love took pity on him, the
following occurrence happened.
The family within had spread their table: the meat was portioned out;
a slice of bread was placed for each, and the goblet was ready mixed.
One of the sheep-dogs, who had watched his opportunity, when no person
was observing him, seized a piece of meat, and made his escape. Dryas
(for the stolen meat happened to be his portion) snatched up a club,
and pursued the thief, following him up like a second dog. Daphnis
had thrown the birds over his shoulder, and was just about hurrying
away when Dryas espied him. At the sight of Daphnis he immediately
forgot both meat and dog, called out after him, "Good morrow, my son! "
ran to him, embraced him, took him by the hand, and led him into the
house. When the lovers saw each other, they were very near sinking
to the ground; however, they continued to support themselves, while
they saluted and embraced: indeed their embrace acted as a stay, and
prevented them from falling.
Having thus contrary to his expectation obtained an interview with his
Chloe and a kiss, Daphnis drew nearer to the fire, and sat down: then
taking the wood-pigeons and thrushes from his shoulder threw them upon
the table, while he related to the family the weariness which he felt
from so long and tedious a confinement at home, the eagerness with
which he set out in pursuit of some sport, and the manner in which he
caught the birds, some with a snare, some with birdlime, when they
came in search of the myrtle and ivy berries. The family praised his
activity, and compared him to "Apollo the far-darting;" and urged him
to partake of what the dog had fortunately left; desiring Chloe in the
mean time to pour him out wherewithal to drink. She cheerfully complied
and handed the goblet to all the others first, last of all to Daphnis,
pretending to be affronted with him, for having come thither and
intending to go away without asking to see her: nevertheless, before
holding the beaker out to him, she sipped[4] a little from it, and then
presented it; upon which he, although thirsty, drank as leisurely as
possible, in order to prolong his pleasure, by protracting his draught.
The table was soon cleared of the fragments of bread and meat: after
which, as they were sitting by the fire, they began to inquire after
Myrtale and Lamon, who were pronounced fortunate in having such an
excellent provider for their old age. Daphnis was delighted at having
these commendations pronounced upon him in the hearing of Chloe, and
when her parents proceeded to insist upon his remaining with them
till next day, when they intended to sacrifice to Bacchus, he was
very nearly adoring them in lieu of the god. He immediately produced
his store of honeyed cakes from his scrip, together with the birds,
which he had caught, which they dressed for supper. A second goblet
was mixed; and a second fire was lighted. Night soon came on, when
they partook of a hearty meal; and at its conclusion, after telling
stories, and singing songs, they retired to rest. Chloe slept with her
mother, and Daphnis with Dryas. Chloe's only pleasure was the thought
of seeing Daphnis the next morning; Daphnis enjoyed a kind of hollow
satisfaction, even from sleeping with Chloe's father, whom he hugged
and kissed, dreaming all the while, that the embraces were being
bestowed upon Chloe.
When the day broke the cold was intense, and the sharp north wind was
parching up every thing. Dryas and his family arose, sacrificed a ram
of one year old to Bacchus, and lighted a large fire to boil the meat.
Nape made the bread, while Dryas attended to the meat, and, while
they were thus engaged, Daphnis and Chloe proceeded to the ivy-covered
arbour, where they set snares and spread birdlime, and again caught
no small quantity of birds. Kisses and delightful converse were
continuously interchanged between them.
"I came hither entirely on your account, Chloe. "
"I know it, my dear Daphnis. "
"On your account it is that these poor blackbirds now perish; what
place have I in your affections? Do think of me! "
"I do think of you, my Daphnis, I swear it by the Nymphs whom I once
invoked in that Grotto, whither we will repair again so soon as the
snow shall have melted. "
"The snow lies very thick; I fear that I shall melt away, before it
does. "
"Do not despair, Daphnis, the sun is very warm. "
"Would that it were as warm as the fire which burns my heart! "
"You are in jest: you are deceiving me, Daphnis. "
"No! I am not; I swear it by the goats, whom at your bidding I invoked. "
Chloe's reply was an echo to what Daphnis said. Nape now calling them,
they hurried into the house with a much larger supply of game than
Daphnis had taken the day before. First pouring out a libation to
Bacchus, from the goblet, they sat down to their banquet with chaplets
of ivy on their heads. When it was time to part, after loudly shouting
in honour of the god, Daphnis took his leave, Dryas and his wife having
filled his bag with meat and bread, and insisting upon his carrying
the wood-pigeons and thrushes home to Lamon and Myrtale; for, as they
said, they should be able to catch as many as they pleased so long as
the cold lasted and the ivy berries did not fail. At length Daphnis
bade them farewell, and at his departure gave each of them a kiss,
but he saluted Chloe last of all, that her kiss might remain pure and
unalloyed upon his lips.
He frequently found out pretences for paying them fresh visits; so that
the winter did not pass by altogether without an interchange of love.
In the opening of spring, when the snow was melted, the face of
the earth again uncovered and the grass beginning to grow,[5] the
shepherds and herdsmen led forth their flocks to the pastures, but
Daphnis and Chloe were earlier than the others, inasmuch as they were
under the guidance of a mightier shepherd (Love). The first place to
which they hastened, was the grotto of the Nymphs; the next was the
pine-tree, where stood the statue of Pan; they then proceeded to the
oak, under which, sitting down, they watched their feeding flocks, and
kissed and embraced each other. Wishing to crown the statues of the
deities, they sought for flowers: these were but just beginning to come
out under the mild influence of the zephyr, and the genial warmth of
the sun; but they found the violet, the narcissus, and the pimpernel,
and all the other firstlings of the year: with these they crowned the
statues, and then poured out libations of new milk drawn from the
ewes and the she-goats. After this ceremony they began to tune their
pastoral pipes, as though challenging the nightingales to resume their
song: these answered softly from the thickets, and gradually became
perfect in their plaintive strains, as if recalling them slowly after
so long a silence. [6]
The sheep were heard bleating, while the lambs were seen to frisk
about, or stooping under their mothers drew the teat; the rams pursued
and leaped upon those which had never lambed. The he-goats did the
like, contending for their mates, each making choice of his own, and
guarding her from the approach of a rival.
All these objects might have kindled love even in hoary age; they who
were in the bloom of youth, full of vigour, and long since warmed by
desire, were inflamed by such sounds, melted at such sights, and
longed for something beyond a kiss and an embrace.
Especially was this the case with Daphnis. He had passed the whole
winter in the house, and in a state of inactivity, he therefore was
more impetuous than ever in his desire for kissing and embracing Chloe,
and became bolder and more inquisitive in all love matters. He urged
her to grant him all his wishes; and proposed that they should lie side
by side, naked, since of the precepts given by Philetas for curing
love, this remained untried. She inquired what there possibly could be
besides kisses, embraces, and reclining side by side; why did he wish
that they should recline together naked?
"I wish," said he "to follow the example of the rams and ewes; of
the male goats and their females. --After their amorous sport, the
females no longer flee, and the males no longer pursue; but both feed
quietly together, as if they felt a mutual pleasure. There must be
some gratification in what they do; something which cures the sting of
love. "[7] "But," returned Chloe, "the postures of the sheep and goats
are very different from ours; the males leap upon the females from
behind; this is out of the question with us; besides, you wish me to
lie beside you naked, whereas they have a thick covering given them by
nature. "
Daphnis admitted the reasonableness of this; so after lying by her
side, as usual, for a considerable time, ignorant how to gratify his
passions, he got up and actually shed tears, at being less expert in
love than a silly sheep.
They had a neighbour named Chromis, who farmed some land of his own. He
was growing old, but his wife, who came from the city, was young, good
looking, and superior in manners to the common rustics; her name was
Lycænium. Seeing Daphnis driving his goats past her house, conducting
them to pasture in the morning, and home again in the evening, she was
very desirous of enticing him into love by means of presents.
Upon one occasion, watching until he was alone, she gave him a pipe,
a honeycomb, and a scrip of deer-skin. She did not say anything at
the time, suspecting his affection for Chloe, by seeing him always in
her company. Hitherto, however, her knowledge of the fact was founded
only upon having seen nods and laughter exchanged between them. Not
long after, pretending to Chromis in the morning that she was going to
visit a neighbour in the pains of childbirth, she followed the lovers,
and concealed herself in a thicket, in order to avoid discovery; from
thence she saw and heard everything which passed between them, and
was a witness of the tears shed by Daphnis under his disappointment.
Commiserating their trouble, and conceiving the present a good
opportunity to promote their wishes, and to gratify her own desires,
she had recourse to the following expedient.
The next morning, under cover of the same excuse as on the previous
day, she went straight to the oak where Daphnis and Chloe were sitting
together; then admirably counterfeiting a state of great alarm, she
exclaimed, "Come to my aid, I entreat you, Daphnis, an eagle has
carried off the finest among my twenty geese; and unable to bear it to
yonder high rock, has fallen with it in the neighbouring low wood. In
the name of Pan and the Nymphs come into the wood and rescue my goose,
I am afraid to enter it by myself. Do not let me have my number made
imperfect; besides you may perhaps kill the eagle, and will then no
longer be in dread of having your lambs carried away. --Chloe will, in
the meantime, mind your flocks, the goats know her as well as they do
you, from your being always in company. "
Daphnis, having no suspicions of her motives, got up and followed
Lycænium, who led him as far as possible from Chloe; upon arriving in
the thickest of the wood, near a fountain, she bid him sit down beside
her. --"You are in love, Daphnis," she said; "the Nymphs informed me of
this, last night; they told me of the tears which you shed yesterday,
and have commanded me, for the sake of your relief, to teach you love's
mysteries. These are not limited to kisses and embraces, and the doing
what is done by the rams and goats;[8] they result in much greater
pleasure, and are longer in duration. If, therefore, you wish to be
freed from your pains, and to make trial of the sweets which you so
long for, you must become my willing pupil, and out of regard to the
Nymphs I will be your instructress. " Daphnis could scarcely contain
himself for joy, but rustic as he was, a goatherd, young and in love,
he threw himself at Lycænium's feet, entreating her to teach him with
all speed the art of gratifying his passion for Chloe. --Moreover, as if
about to learn something very mysterious and wonderful, he promised to
reward her pains with a kid, some cheeses made of the first new milk,
and the she-goat herself. Finding the young shepherd so liberal in his
offers, she began to tutor him. She made him sit close to her, bidding
him kiss and embrace her, and lastly lie down beside her, as was his
wont with Chloe. After this, seeing his amorous ardour, she received
him into her arms, and, aided by nature, led him to the wished-for
consummation. [9]
When this amorous lesson was concluded, Daphnis, in his simplicity, was
upon the point of hurrying back to Chloe, to put in practice what he
had learnt, for fear lest through delaying he might forget it. Lycænium
however stopped him, saying,--"You have something more yet to learn,
Daphnis,--I am a full grown woman, and have felt no inconvenience
from what has taken place; I was instructed in this art by another
man, who received my maidenhead as his reward;--but Chloe, when she
engages in this amorous contest, will cry out, and shed tears, and
suffer inconvenience; however, you must not mind all this; so when
you find her in a compliant humour, bring her to this wood, where you
will be free from all intrusion,--and remember, that you have had me
for your instructress previous to Chloe. "[10] Lycænium, after giving
him this advice, retired to another part of the wood as if still in
search of the lost goose. Daphnis, reflecting upon what she had said,
restrained his former impetuosity,[11] fearing to be the cause of any
pain and inconvenience to Chloe; and determining to solace himself with
her only in the accustomed manner, he issued from the wood. Upon his
return he found her weaving a chaplet of violets; so, pretending that
he had delivered the goose from the talons of the eagle, he threw his
arms around her and embraced her, since in this at least there could
be no danger. She placed the chaplet upon his head, and kissed his
hair, which, in her estimation was far preferable to the violets. Then
producing from her scrip a cake of figs and bread, she gave him some,
then snatching the morsels from his mouth, eat them herself, like the
youngling of a bird.
While they were at their meal, which, however, consisted more of kisses
than of food, a fishing boat was seen proceeding along the coast.
There was no wind stirring; a perfect calm prevailed: so having taken
to their oars, the crew were rowing vigorously, their object being to
carry some newly caught fish to a rich man in the city. They dipped
their oars, doing what sailors usually do to beguile their toil. The
boatswain[12] sung a sea-song, and the rest joined in chorus at
stated intervals. When they were in the open sea, the sound was lost,
their voices being dispersed into the air, but when running under a
headland they came into any hollow and crescent-shaped bay, the sound
became much louder, and the song of the boatswain was distinctly
heard on shore. A deep valley here sloped down from the plain above,
which received into it the sound, as into an instrument of music, and
repeated with the most perfect imitation every note which was uttered.
There could be heard the distinction between the dash of the oars, and
the voices of the sailors; and a very pleasing sound it was; beginning
on the sea, the duration of its echo upon shore was proportioned to its
greater lateness in commencing.
Daphnis, understanding the nature of the echo, turned his attention
solely to the sea, and was delighted with viewing the boat as it
glided by the shore quicker than a bird could fly. At the same time
he endeavoured to store up some of these strains in his memory, that
he might play them on his pipe. Chloe, who had never, till now, heard
what is called an echo, turned first to the sea, and listened to
the boatmen, as they sang, and then looked round to the woods, in
expectation of seeing those, who (as she thought) were singing in
responsive chorus.
At length the rowers were out of sight, and all was silent, even in
the valley; when Chloe inquired of Daphnis whether there was another
sea behind the hill, and another boat, and other sailors, who all sang
the same strain, and who all left off together. Daphnis sweetly smiled
upon her, and gave her a still sweeter kiss, and putting the chaplet of
violets on her head, proceeded to relate to her the legendary tale of
Echo, upon condition of receiving ten kisses for his pains.
"There are various classes of the Nymphs, my love;--the Melians, who
dwell among the ash-groves, the Dryads, who preside over the oaks, and
the Elæan, who are guardians of the lakes. Echo[13] was the daughter
of one of these Nymphs: as her mother was beautiful, so was she, but
as her father was a mortal, she also was the same. She was brought up
by the Nymphs, and was taught by the Muses to play upon the pipe, the
flute, the lyre, and the harp, in short she was instructed in every
species of music; so that when the maiden arrived at the flower of her
youth, she danced with the Nymphs, and sang with the Muses. Attached to
the state of maidenhood, she shunned the sight of all males, whether
men or gods. This roused the indignation of Pan; jealous of her skill
in music, and irritated by her refusal of his advances, the god
inspired the shepherds and herdsmen with such frenzy, that they rushed
upon her like so many hounds or wolves, tore her in pieces, and threw
in every direction, her limbs, yet sending forth melodious sounds.
Earth, in order to gratify the Nymphs, covered the maiden's limbs, but
preserved to her the gift of song; and, by the will of the Muses, she
still has the power of utterance, and, as when alive, still imitates
all sounds; the voices of the gods--of men--of instruments--of animals,
even of Pan himself when playing on his pipe. He, when he hears the
sound, springs up, and rushes in pursuit over the mountains, not in
order to bend her to his wishes, but to find out who can be this his
hidden pupil.
