No More Learning

2. “Priapus and the fountain-goddesses” : effigies.
3. “Mazer” : a carved wooden cup.
4. “freaked” : lit. “dusted. ”
5. “Cassidony” : the Everlasting or Golden-Tufts. Some scholars, following Suidas’ explanation, take helichrysô as the ivy-flower. This meaning may have been invented to explain the passage; it is not recorded in the Scholia. But it cannot be denied that kekonimenos (or kekonismenos, as some mss give it) “dusted” suits the groups of dots which represent the ivy-flower on many ancient cups.
6. “Breaking his fast” : the chief feature of a Greek breakfast, as the word akratizô shows, was unmixed wine; this, being in a bottle, the fox, even if he wished it, could not expect to get at.
7. “To his drink” : cf. Plato, Rep. 372 B, epipinontes tou oinou, “drinking the wine to the food. ”
8. Calymnus is an island near Cos.
9. “Peneius, Pindus” : a river and a mountain in Thessaly.
10. “Anapus, Acis” : rivers in Sicily.
11. “Arethusa” : the fountain of Syracuse.
12. “Helicè, Lycaon’s child” : the tombs of Helicè and her son Arcas were famous sights of Arcadia.
13. “Gone to the River” : Acheron, the river of Death; or “over the River” (eba = crossed, so schol. )
14. “Whelmed i’ the whirl” : “pent by the flood. ”

IDYLL II. THE SPELL

This monologue, which preserves the dialogue-form by a dumb character, consists of two parts; in the first a Coan girl named Simaetha lays a fire-spell upon her neglectful lover, the young athlete Delphis, and in the second, when her maid goes off to smear the ashes upon his lintel, she tells the Moon how his love was won and lost. The scene lies not far from the sea, at a place where three roads meet without the city, the roads being bordered with tombs. The Moon shines in the background, and in the foreground is a wayside shrine and statue of Hecate with a little altar before it. Upon this altar, in the first part of the rite, the poor girl burns successively barley-meal, bay-leaves, a waxen puppet, and some bran; next, the coming of the Goddess having been heralded by the distant barking of dogs and welcomes with the beating of brass, amid the holy silence that betokens her presence Simaetha pours the libations and puts up her chief prayer; lastly she burns the herb hippomanes and a piece of the fringe of her lover’s cloak. The incantation which begins and ends the four-line stanza devoted to the burning of each of these things, as well as two central stanzas belonging to the holy silence and the libation, is addressed to the magic four-spoked wheel which still bears the name of the bird that was originally bound to such wheels, and which is kept turning by Simaetha throughout the rite. When Thestylis withdraws with the collected ashes in the libation-bowl, her mistress begins her soliloquy. This consists of two halves, the first of which is divided, by a refrain addressed to the listening Moon, into stanzas, all, except the last, of five lines; then instead of the refrain comes the climax of the story, put briefly in two lines, and the second half begins, with its tale of desertion. In the latter half the absence of the refrain with its lyric and romantic associations is intended to heighten the contrast between then and now, between the fulness of joy and the emptiness of despair. Towards the end both of the first and of the second parts of the poem there is a suggestion that Simaetha only half believes in the efficacy of her spell; for she threatens that if it fails to bring back Delphis’ love to her, poison shall prevent his bestowing it elsewhere.

[1] Where are my bay-leaves? Come, Thestylis; where are my love-charms? Come crown me the bowl with the crimson flower o’ wool; I would fain have the fire-spell to my cruel dear that for twelve days hath not so much as come anigh me, the wretch, nor knows not whether I be alive or dead, nay nor even hath knocked upon my door, implacable man. I warrant ye Love and the Lady be gone away with his feat fancy. In the morning I’ll to Timagetus’ school and see him, and ask what he means to use me so; but, for to-night, I’ll put the spell o’ fire upon him.

[10] So shine me fair, sweet Moon; for to thee, still Goddess, is my song, to thee and that Hecat infernal who makes e’en the whelps to shiver on her goings to and fro where these tombs be and the red blood lies. All hail to thee, dread and awful Hecat! I prithee so bear me company that this medicine of my making prove potent as any of Circe’s or Medea’s or Perimed’s of the golden hair.

Wryneck, wryneck, draw him hither.

[18] First barley-meal to the burning. Come, Thestylis; throw it on. Alack, poor fool! whither are thy wits gone wandering? Lord! am I become a thing a filthy drab like thee may crow over? On, on with the meal, and say “These be Delphis’ bones I throw. ”

Wryneck, wryneck, draw him hither.

[23] As Delphis hath brought me pain, so I burn the bay against Delphis. And as it crackles and then lo! is burnt suddenly to nought and we see not so much as the ash of it, e’en so be Delphis’ body whelmed in another flame.

Wryneck, wryneck, draw him hither.

[28] As this puppet melts for me before Hecat, so melt with love, e’en so speedily, Delphis of Myndus. 1 And as this wheel of brass turns by grace of Aphrodite, so turn he and turn again before my threshold. 2

Wryneck, wryneck, draw him hither.

[33] Now to the flames the bran. O Artemis, as thou movest the adamant that is at the door of Death, so mayst thou move all else that is unmovable. Hark, Thestylis, where the gods howl in the town. Sure the Goddess is at these cross-roads. Quick beat the pan.

Wryneck, wryneck, draw him hither.

[38] Lo there! now wave is still and wind is still, though never still the pain that is in my breast; for I am all afire for him, afire alas! for him that hath made me no wife and left me to my shame no maid.

Wryneck, wryneck, draw him hither.

[43] Thrice this libation I pour, thrice, Lady, this prayer I say: be woman at this hour or man his love-mate, O be that mate forgotten even as old Theseus once forgat the fair-tressed damsel in Dia. 3

Wryneck, wryneck, draw him hither.

[48] Horse-madness is a herb that grows in Arcady, and makes every filly, every flying mare run a-raving in the hills. In like case Delphis may I see, aye, coming to my door from the oil and the wrestling-place like one that is raving mad.

Wryneck, wryneck, draw him hither.

[53] This fringe hath Delphis lost from his cloak, and this now pluck I in pieces and fling away into the ravening flame. Woe’s me, remorseless Love! why hast clung to me thus, thou muddy leech, and drained my flesh of the red blood every drop?

Wryneck, wryneck, draw him hither.

[58] I’ll bray thee an eft to-morrow, and an ill drink thou shalt find it. But for to-night take thou these ashes, Thestylis, while ‘tis yet dark, and smear them privily upon his lintel above, and spit for what thou doest4 and say “Delphis’ bones I smear. ”

Wryneck, wryneck, draw him hither.

[64] Now I am alone. Where shall I begin the lament of my love? Here b’t begun; I’ll tell who ‘twas brought me to this pass.

[66] One day came Anaxo daughter of Eubulus our way, came a-basket-bearing in procession to the temple of Artemis, with a ring of man beasts about her, a lioness one.

List, good Moon, where I learnt my loving.

[70] Now Theumaridas’ Thracian nurse that dwelt next door, gone ere this to her rest, had begged and prayed me to gout and see the pageant, and so – ill was my luck – I followed her, in a long gown of fine silk, with Clearista’s5 cloak over it.

List, good Moon, where I learnt my loving.

[76] I was halfway o’ the road, beside Lycon’s, when lo! I espied walking together Delphis and Eudamippus, the hair o’ their chins as golden as cassidony,6 and the breasts of them, for they were on their way from their pretty labour at the school, shone full as fair as thou, great Moon.

List, good Moon, where I learnt my loving.

[82] And O the pity of it! in a moment I looked and was lost, lost and smit i’ the heart7; the colour went from my cheek; of that brave pageant I bethought me no more. How I got me home I know not; but this I know, a parching fever laid me waste and I was ten days and ten nights abed.

List, good Moon, where I learnt my loving.

[88] And I would go as wan and pale as any dyer’s boxwood; the hairs o’ my head began to fall; I was nought but skin and bone. There’s not a charmer in the town to whom I resorted not, nor witch’s hovel whither I went not for a spell. But ‘twas no easy thing to cure a malady like that, and time sped on apace.

List, good Moon, where I learnt my loving.

[94] At last I told my woman all the truth. “Go to, good Thestylis,” cried I, “go find me some remedy for a sore distemper. The Myndian, alack! he possesseth me altogether. Go thou, pray, and watch for him by Timagetus’ wrestling-place: ‘tis thither he resorts, ‘tis there he loves well to sit.

List, good Moon, where I learnt my loving.

[100] “And when so be thou be’st sure he’s alone, give him a gentle nod o’ the head and say Simaetha would see him, and bring him hither. ” So bidden she went her ways and brought him that was so sleek and gay to my dwelling. And no sooner was I ware of the light fall o’s foot across my threshold, –

List, good Moon, where I learnt my loving –

[106] than I went cold as ice my body over, and the sweat dripped like dewdrops from my brow; aye, and for speaking I could not so much as the whimper of a child that calls on’s mother in his sleep; for my fair flesh was gone all stiff and stark like a puppet’s.

List, good Moon, where I learnt my loving.

[112] When he beheld me, heartless man! 8 he fixed his gaze on the ground, sat him upon the bed, and sitting thus spake: “Why, Simaetha, when thou bad’st me hither to this thy roof, marry, thou didst no further outrun my own coming than I once outran the pretty young Philinus. 9

List, good Moon, where I learnt my loving.

[118] “For I had come of myself, by sweet Love I had, of myself the very first hour of night, with comrades twain or more, some of Dionysus’ own apples in my pocket, and about my brow the holy aspen sprig of Heracles with gay purple ribbons wound in and out.

List, good Moon, where I learnt my loving.

[124] “And had ye received me so, it had been joy; for I have a name10 as well for beauty of shape as speed of foot with all the bachelry o’ the town, and I had been content so I had only kissed thy pretty lips. But and if ye had sent me packing with bolt and bar, then I warrant ye axes and torches had come against you.

List, good Moon, where I learnt my loving.

[130] “But seeing thou hadst sent for me, I vowed my thanks to the Cyprian first – but after the Cyprian ‘tis thou, in calling me to this roof, sweet maid, didst snatch the brand from a burning that was all but done; for i’ faith, Cupid’s flare oft will outblaze the God o’ Lipara11 himself, –

List, good Moon, where I learnt my loving –

[137] “And with the dire frenzy of him bride is driven from groom ere his marriage-bed by cold, much more a maid from the bower of her virginity. ” So he ended, and I, that was so easy to win, took him by the hand and made him lie along the bed. Soon cheek upon cheek grew ripe, our faces waxed hotter, and lo! sweet whispers went and came. My prating shall not keep thee too long, good Moon: enough that all was done, enough that both desires were sped.

[145] And till ‘twas but yesterday, he found never a fault in me nor I in him. But lo! to-day, when She o’ the Rose-red Arms began her swift charioting from sea to sky, comes me the mother of Melixo and of our once flute-girl12 Philista, and among divers other talk would have me believe Delphis was in love. And she knew not for sure, so she said, whether this new love were of maid or of man, only “he was ever drinking” quoth she “to the name of Love, and went off in haste at the last saying his love-garlands were for such-and-such a house. ” So ran my gossip’s story, and sure ‘tis true; tor ah! though time was, i’ faith, when he would come thrice and four times a day, and often left his Dorian flask with me to fetch again, now ‘tis twelve days since I so much as set eyes upon him. I am forgot, for sure; his joy doth lie otherways.

[160] To-night these my fire-philtres shall lay a spell upon him; but if so be they make not an end of my trouble, then, so help me Fate, he shall be found knocking at the gate of Death; for I tell thee, good Mistress, I have in my press medicines evil enough, that one out of Assyria13 told me of. So fare thee well, great Lady; to Ocean with thy team. And I, I will bear my love as best I may. Farewell sweet Lady o’ the Shining Face,14 and all ye starry followers in the train of drowsy Night, farewell, farewell.

1. “Myndus” : a town of Caria, opposite Cos.
2. “Turn and turn again before my threshold” : waiting to be let in; cf. 7. 122.
3. “Dia” : Naxos where Theseus abandoned Ariadne.
4. “Spit for what thou doest” : to avert ill-luck.
5. “Clearista” : perhaps her sister.
6. “Cassidony” : the Everlasting or Golden-Tufts.
7. “smit i' the heart” : or perhaps ‘and my heart pierced with fire (metaph. from fire-darts used in war).
8. “Heartless man” : to behave so and then desert me.
9. “Philinus” : of Cos, here spoken of as a youth; he won at Olympia in 264 and 260.
10. “I have a name” : the self-complimentary details of Delphis’ speech are due to the reporter.
11. “God of Lipara”: the Liparaean Islands contain volcanoes.
12. “Our flute-girl” : the girl who used to play to him and me’; the same is still employed by Delphis, and it is through her mother that Simaetha learns that he loves another, a second daughter of the same woman being one of Simaetha’s serving-maids.
13. “Assyria”: the land of magic herbs.
14. For “Shining Face” there was an ancient variant ‘Shining Throne. ’

IDYLL III. THE SERENADE

The poet appears to personate a young goatherd, who after five lines dedicatory to a friend whom he calls Tityrus, serenades his mistress Amaryllis. The poem is a monologue, but, like II, preserves the dialogue-form of the mime by means of a dumb character. The appeal to Amaryllis may be regarded as consisting of three parts each ending with the offer of a gift – apples, garland, a goat – and a fourth part containing a love-song of four stanzas. The reciter would doubtless make a slight pause to mark the rejection of each gift and the failure of the song before the renewal of the cry of despair.

[1] I go a-courting of Amyrallis, and my goats they go browsing on along the hill with Tityrus to drive them on. My well-beloved Tityrus, pray feed me my goats; pray lead them to watering, good Tityrus, and beware or the buckgoat, the yellow Libyan yonder, will be butting you.

[6] Beautiful Amaryllis, why peep you no more from your cave and call me in? Hate you your sweet-heart? Can it be a near view hath shown him snub-nosed, Nymph, and over-bearded? I dare swear you’ll be the death of me. See, here have I brought you half a score of apples plucked yonder where you bade me pluck them, and to-morrow I’ll bring you so many again . . .

[12] Look, ah! look upon me; my heart is torn with pain. I wish I were yon humming bee to thread my way through the ivy and the fern you do prink your cave withal and enter in! O now know I well what Love is. ‘Tis a cruel god. I warrant you a she-lion’s dugs it was he sucked and in a forest was reared, so doth he slow-burn me, aye, pierce me to the very bone. O Nymph of the pretty glance, but all stone; O Nymph of the dark dark eyebrow, come clasp thy goatherd that is so fain to be kissing thee. E’en in an empty kiss there’s sweet delight. You’ll make me tear in pieces the ivy-wreath I have for you, dear Amaryllis; of rosebuds twined it is, and of fragrant parsley leaves . . .

[24] Alas and well-a-day! what’s to become of me? Ay me! you will not answer.
I’ll doff my plaid and go to Olpis’ watching-place for tunnies and leap from it into the waves; and if I die not, ‘twill be though no fault of yours. 1 I found it out t’other day; my thoughts were of you and whether or no you loved me, and when I played slap to see, the love-in-absence2 that should have stuck on, shrivelled up forthwith against the soft of my arm. Agroeo too, the sieve-witch that was out the other day a-simpling beside the harvesters, she spoke me true when she said you made me of none account, though I was all wrapt up in you. Marry, a white twinner-goat have I to give you, which that nut-brown little handmaiden of Mermnon’s is fain to get of me – and get her she shall seeing you choose to play me the dainty therein . . .

[37] Lo there! a twitch o’ my right eye. 3 Shall I be seeing her? I’ll go lean me against yon pine-tree and sing awhile. It may be she’ll look upon me then, being she’s no woman of adamant.

[40] (sings) When Schoenus’ bride-race4 was begun, apples fell from one that run;
She looks, she’s lost, and lost doth leap, into love so dark and deep.
When the seer5 in’s brother’s name with those kin to Pylus came,
Bias to the joy-bed hies whence sprang Alphesibee the wise.
When Adonis o’er the sheep in the hills his watch did keep,
The Love-Dame proved so wild a wooers, e’en in death she clips him to her. 6
O would I were Endymion7 that sleeps the unchanging slumber on,
Or, Lady, knew thy Jasion’s7 glee which prófane eyes may never see! . . .

[52] My head aches sore, but ‘tis nought to you. I’ll make an end, and throw me down, aye, and stir not if the wolves devour me – the which I pray be as sweet honey in the throat to you.

1. “Through no fault of yours” : the Greek is “at any rate as far as you are concerned it has (i. e. will have) been done as you wished.
2. “Love-in-absence” : a flower. The Greek is “stuck not on at the slapping-game. ”
3. “A twitch o’ my right eye” : a good omen.
4. “Schoenus’ bride-race” : Hippomenes won Atalanta the fleet-footed daughter of Schoenus by throwing an apple in the race for her hand
5. The seer Melampus by bringing to the king of Pylus the oxen of Iphiclus won the king’s daughter Pero for his brother Bias.
6. Although he was slain long ago, Aphrodite Cytherea loves her Adonis so dearly that she still clasps him – at the Adonis festival – to her breast.
7. Endymion was loved by the Moon, and Jasion – as in the Eleusinian mysteries – by Demeter.

IDYLL IV. THE HERDSMEN

A conversation between a goatherd named Battus and his fellow goatherd Corydon, who is acting oxherd in place of a certain Aegon who has been persuaded by one Milon son of Lampriadas to go and compete in a boxing-match at Olympia. Corydon’s temporary rise in rank gives occasion for some friendly banter – which the sententious fellow does not always understand – varied with bitter references to Milon’s having supplanted Battus in the favours of Amaryllis. The reference to Glaucè fixes the imaginary date as contemporary with Theocritus. This is not the great Milon, but a fictitious strong man of the same town called, suitably enough, by his name. 1 The poem, like all the other genuine shepherd-mimes, contains a song. Zacynthus is still called the flower of the Levant. The scene in near Crotona in Southern Italy.

BATTUS (in a bantering tone)
[1] What, Corydon man; whose may your cows be? Philondas’s?

CORYDON
[2] Nay, Aegon’s; he hath given me the feeding of them in his stead.

BATTUS
[3] And I suppose, come evening, you give them all a milking hugger-mugger? 2

CORYDON
[4] Not so; the old master sees me to that; he puts the calves to suck, himself.

BATTUS
[5] But whither so far was their own proper herdsman gone?

CORYDON
[6] Did you never hear? Milon carried him off with him to the Alpheus.

BATTUS
[7] Lord! When had the likes of him ever so much as set eyes upon a flask of oil? 3

CORYDON (sententiously)
[8] Men say he rivals Heracles in might.

BATTUS (scoffing)
[9]And mammy says I’m another Polydeuces.

CORYDON
[10] Well, he took a score of sheep4 and a spade with him, when he went.

BATTUS (with a momentary bitterness)
[11] Ah, that Milon! he'ld persuade a wolf5 to run mad for the asking.

CORYDON
[12] And his heifers miss him sore; hark to their lowing.

BATTUS (resuming his banter)
[13] Aye; ‘twas an ill day for the kine; how sorry a herdsman it brought them!

CORYDON (misunderstanding)
[14] Marry, an ill day it was, and they are off their feed now.

BATTUS
[15] Look you now, yonder beast, she’s nought but skin and bone. Pray, doth she feed on dewdrops like the cricket?

CORYDON

[17] Zeus! No. Why, sometimes I graze her alone the Aesarus and give her a brave bottle of the tenderest green grass, and oftentimes her play-ground’s in the deep shade of Latymnus.

BATTUS
[20] Aye, and the red-poll bull, he’s lean as can be. (bitterly again) I only would to god, when there’s a sacrifice to Hera in their ward, the sons of Lampriadas might get such another6 as he: they are a foul mixen sort, they o’ that ward.

CORYDON
[23] All the same that bull’s driven to the sea-lake and the Physcian border, and to that garden of good things, goat-flower, mullet,7 sweet odorous balsam, to with Neaethus.

BATTUS (sympathising as with another of Milon’s victims)
[26] Heigho, poor Aegon! thy very kine must needs meet their death because thou art gone a-whoring after vainglory, and the herdsman’s pipe thou once didst make thyself is all one mildew.

CORYDON
[29] Nay, by the Nymphs, not it. He bequeathed it to me when he set out for Pisa. I too am something of a musician. Mark you, I’m a dabster at Glaucè’s snatches and those ditties Pyrrhus makes: (sings)
O Croton is a bonny town as Zacynth by the sea,
And a bonny sight on her eastward height is the fane of Laciny,
Where boxer Milon one fine morn made fourscore loaves his meal,
And down the hill another day, while lasses holla’d by the way,
To Amaryllis, laughing gay led the bull by the heel.

BATTUS (not proof against the tactless reference; apostrophising)
[38] O beautiful Amaryllis, though you be dead, I am true, and I’ll never forget you. My pretty goats are dear to me, but dear no less a maiden that is no more. O well-a-day that my luck turned so ill!

CORYDON
[41] Soft you, good Battus; be comforted. Good luck comes with another morn; while there’s life there’s hope; rain one day, shine the next.

BATTUS
[44] Let be. ‘tis well. (changing the subject) Up with you, ye calves; up the hill! They are at the green of those olives, the varlets.

CORYDON
[45] Hey up, Snowdrop! hey up, Goodbody! to the hill wi’ ye! Art thou deaf? ‘Fore Pan I’ll presently come thee an evil end if thou stay there. Look ye there; back she comes again. Would there were but a hurl-bat in my hand! I had had at the.

BATTUS
[50] Zeus save thee, Corydon; see here! It had at me as thou sadist the word, this thorn, here under my ankle. And how deep the distaff-thistles go! A plague o’ thy heifer! It all came o’ my gaping after her. (Corydon domes to help him) Dost see him, lad?

CORYDON
[54] Aye, aye, and have got him ‘twixt my nails; and lo! here he is.
BATTUS (in mock-heroic strain)
[55] O what a little tiny wound to overmaster so mighty a man!

CORYDON (pointing the moral)
[56] Thou should’st put on thy shoes when thou goest into the hills, Battus; ‘tis rare ground for thorns and gorse, the hills.

BATTUS
[58] Pray tell me, Corydon, comes gaffer yet the gallant with that dark-browed piece o’love he was smitten of?

CORYDON
[60] Aye, what does he, ill’s his luck. I happened of them but two days agone, and near the byre, too, and faith, gallant was the word.

BATTUS (apostrophising)
[62] Well done, Goodman Light-o’-love. ‘Tis plain thou comest not far below the old Satyrs8 and ill-shanked Pans o’ the country-side for lineage.

1. The identification of Milon with the great athlete is incorrect. The great Milon flourished B. C. 510; the scholiast knows of no such feats in connexion with him; and the feats ascribed to him by authors ap. Athen. 10. 412 e, f, are by no means identical with these.
2. “Hugger-mugger” : on the sly.
3. “Oil” : used by athletes upon their bodies.
4. “A score of sheep” : athletes when training fed largely upon meat, and kept themselves in condition by shovelling sand.
5. “Persuade a wolf” : i. e. “he beguiled Aegon to compete at Olympia though he is but a poor hand at boxing (cf. l. 7) just as he beguiled Amaryllis away from me though she never really loved him. ”
6. “Might get such another” : the greater part of a sacrificed animal was eaten by the sacrificers.
7. “Mullet” : usually called ‘fleabane. ’
8. “Old Satyrs” : effigies of Pan and the Satyrs were a feature of the country-side.