[194] In her
name Leucippe rebukes Thersander for insulting a virgin in the city of
the Virgin Goddess.
name Leucippe rebukes Thersander for insulting a virgin in the city of
the Virgin Goddess.
Elizabeth Haight - Essays on Greek Romances
He has reached Sidon in his
travels and is touring the city, looking at the temples. He describes a
painting of Zeus and Europa, also a statue of Eros. He was reflecting on
the Eros: “Think of such a brat being lord of earth and sea! ” When a
young man near testifies to Eros’ power which he has felt, the author
invites him to tell his story. In a Platonic scene under a plane-tree
near a stream they sit down.
The stranger, Clitophon, a Greek of Tyre, tells his story in the first
person. Clitophon has been unwillingly betrothed at nineteen to his
half-sister, Calligone. Now his uncle, Sostratus, writes that he is
sending his daughter Leucippe and her mother from their home in
Byzantium to Tyre for safety during a war. Clitophon at once falls in
love with Leucippe. He makes his cousin, Clinias, his confidant. Clinias
is sympathetic because he had a tragic love affair with a youth who was
killed by a fall from a horse which Clinias gave him. (Here is
introduced a purple patch on the driving accident. )
Encouraged by Clinias, Clitophon makes love constantly. Various scenes
of his wooing, for example a garden, are described in detail. Finally
the lovers elope, find a ship at Berytus, embark and start to
Alexandria. They meet an Egyptian fellow-passenger, Menelaus. There
comes a great storm. Hero and heroine are cast on shore at Pelusium near
the temple of Zeus Casius. Enter black brigands. Soldiers rescue
Clitophon, but Leucippe is kidnapped. Clitophon joins in an attempt to
save her, but it is baulked by a deep, impassable canal between the
rescuing party and the ten thousand brigands. Across it Clitophon
watches the bandits perform a human sacrifice by disembowelling the
victim before an altar. It is Leucippe. The body is put in a coffin.
The next day the canal is diked and crossed. Clitophon resolves to die
on Leucippe’s body, but suddenly he meets his slave Satyrus and
Menelaus, both saved from the wreck, who assure him that Leucippe is
alive. On the coffin being opened, she comes out—“Gashed open and minus
all viscera. ” But the murderers had been deceived by a sheepskin full of
animal entrails attached to her and by a stage sword which never
penetrated her body. Clinias too was saved from the wreck. Now a
punitive expedition under Charmides, the Egyptian, starts, but
unfortunately he falls in love with Leucippe and has a philtre given her
which drives her insane. On her recovery they go to Alexandria. There a
new rival, Chaereas, abducts Leucippe. Clitophon pursues on a ship of
war, but has to endure seeing Leucippe beheaded on the deck of the
enemy’s vessel. Clitophon recovers the head from the sea and gives it
burial.
Six months later Clitophon meets Clinias again. Clinias who had been
home in Sidon reports that “the cruel parent had actually betrothed the
loving cousins” so Clitophon and Leucippe might have married in peace.
Clitophon who naturally believes Leucippe dead is pursued by Melitte, a
lovely, wealthy and amorous widow of Ephesus. He finally yields to her;
they are betrothed in the temple of Isis and are to be married when they
reach Ephesus. On their arrival, Melitte drives Clitophon around her
great estates. There he has the overwhelming surprise of encountering
Leucippe who is working in the garden as a miserable slave. This
difficult situation is made more complicated by the sudden reappearance
of Melitte’s husband, Thersander, who had been falsely reported drowned
at sea. Thersander beats up Clitophon as an adulterer with his wife and
has him imprisoned.
Sosthenes, the bailiff of Thersander, interests his master in Leucippe,
so he tries to seduce her, but unsuccessfully. Clitophon in prison is
told a false story that both Leucippe and Melitte are faithless to him.
Clitophon resolves to denounce Melitte as an accomplice in a plot for
the murder of Leucippe and then to die. He is tried for adultery and
self-confessed murder, but Clinias foils his attempt by telling the
whole truth in court. Sosthenes departs, leaving Leucippe free.
Leucippe’s father, Sostratus, by good fortune arrives in Ephesus on a
sacred embassy just in time to assist his daughter. The trial of
Clitophon is resumed in a long court scene in which finally Thersander
challenges Leucippe and Melitte to tests of chastity by the magic pipes
of Pan and the magic spring of Rhodopis. Both pass the ordeals.
Thersander, since everything is going against him, for his slave,
Sosthenes, has been captured and will be forced to confess the truth,
flees. Sosthenes confesses. Clitophon is acquitted. Leucippe tells her
whole story: how the bandits beheaded another woman dressed in her
clothes to prevent Clitophon from following; how a quarrel over her
arose among them in which Chaereas was slain; then she was sold by the
other pirates to Sosthenes, who bought her for Thersander. Sostratus
then relates the secondary romance of Callisthenes and Calligone. The
novel ends with a happy reunion of all at Tyre where prayers and
sacrifices are offered in behalf of the lasting felicity of Clitophon
and Leucippe, of Callisthenes and Calligone.
Such is the story which Phillimore characterizes as “a breathless
succession of improbable incident. ”[143] The settings move with the same
cinematic rapidity which Chariton employed: from Sidon to Berytus, to
the sea and shipwreck, to Pelusium and Alexandria, to Ephesus and the
great court scene, to Byzantium and back again to Tyre.
In one point particularly the structure of the plot differs from
Chariton’s and indeed from the plots of all the other Greek Romances.
The author in the beginning hands over the story to a narrator, the
hero, Clitophon, who then tells the events in the first person. Very
soon, however, the reader has forgotten this device: so many other
characters are given the floor to relate their own tales. And at the end
the author too has forgotten this beginning, for Clitophon does not
round up his narrative with a polite farewell. He does not even explain
how he happened to be at Sidon where he started the tale. And the author
does not express his appreciation of the entertainment Clitophon has
given him. [144]
The chief interests of the romance are again love, adventure and
religion. There are two love-stories of primary interest instead of one.
Yet the bulk of the plot turns on adventure rather than on sex or
worship. And delight in adventure adds to the typical travellers’ tales
a flaming curiosity which demands description of many strange novelties.
In general the technical devices common to all the romances are used.
There is much conversation. There are many soliloquies. Clitophon
upbraids himself for swerving from Calligone to Leucippe. [145] Later he
bemoans Leucippe’s fate when she has been kidnapped by the blacks. [146]
Leucippe, sold as a slave, laments her whole sad love-story while
lustful Thersander is eavesdropping outside the door. [147] Clitophon, on
hearing in prison the false story that Leucippe has been murdered by
Melitte, voices his horror over her death and over the fact that he had
kissed her slayer. [148] These soliloquies are employed to reveal the
intense feelings of hero and heroine at emotional crises.
Three letters are used. The first is a brief business letter which
serves to develop the plot, for in it Sostratus writes to his brother
Hippias that he is sending his daughter Leucippe and his wife Panthea to
him for safe-keeping until the war between the Byzantines and the
Thracians is over. [149] The other two are love-letters. One is
Leucippe’s to Clitophon telling him that she has been sold as a slave,
begging for ransom money, wishing him happiness in his coming nuptials
with Melitte, and assuring him she is still a virgin. The other is
Clitophon’s answer declaring that he has “imitated her virginity, if
there be any virginity in men,” begging her not to judge him until he
can explain all, but to pity him. [150] Leucippe’s letter is found by
Melitte and helps motivate the plot in its emotional aspects, for it
works Melitte up through jealousy and despair to such passionate ardor
that she persuades Clitophon to sleep one night with her. [151]
Oaths are not important in the structure of the plot. Once Leucippe
swears to her father by Artemis that she has told him a true story about
being still a maid. [152] Dreams are frequent and are significant. Four
are reported which are vital factors in the plot. Clitophon’s father
dreams that while he is conducting the wedding ceremonies of his son and
Calligone the torches are extinguished. This dream leads him to hasten
the marriage so distasteful to Clitophon and it would have been
consummated at once had not Calligone been kidnapped by Callisthenes
under the impression that she was Leucippe. [153] Then Clitophon had
persuaded Leucippe to let him spend the night with her and with the aid
of Satyrus was already in her bedroom. Leucippe’s mother who had just
had a dream that a robber with a naked sword was playing the part of
Jack the Ripper with her daughter, rushed in and interrupted the
amour. [154] Later on, Leucippe and Clitophon on the same night have
similar dreams. A goddess appears and warns each that their love must
not be consummated until the goddess decks the bride and opens her
temple to the bridegroom. This apparition makes them postpone the rites
of Aphrodite. [155] In Book VII Sostratus, Leucippe’s father, sees in a
dream an apparition of Artemis who tells him that he will find Leucippe
and Clitophon in Ephesus. He goes to Ephesus then on a sacred embassy
and finds that Artemis does not lie. [156]
This tendency to a repeated use of the same device for forwarding the
plot is seen in greater extravagance and exaggeration in the use of
apparent deaths. Leucippe is supposed to meet violent death three times,
twice before the eyes of her lover, once in vivid narrative told to him
in prison. First she is sacrificed by brigands by being disembowelled
before an altar. Second she is beheaded on the deck of a ship by black
pirates and her head tossed into the ocean. Third she is murdered by an
assassin hired by Melitte. [157] In the first two cases ghastly details
make the executions seem real, but Leucippe always survives and
reappears with a plausible but exotic story. Surely in this exaggeration
Achilles Tatius is using thinly veiled satire of the device of
improbable reappearances in the Greek romance.
The same exuberance appears in the use of the forensic speeches, of
long, mythological narratives and of wordy descriptions. All these will
be considered in the study of the style of the romance. Two more
technical devices of the plot must be mentioned here: the use of résumés
and the usual happy ending. Book VIII is crowded with résumés: Clitophon
tells all his adventures to Sostratus and the priest of Artemis.
Leucippe relates to Sostratus how the pirates decapitated another woman
in her place. Finally Sostratus relates to his daughter and to Clitophon
the romance of Callisthenes and Calligone. [158] The romances of both
pairs of lovers, Clitophon and Leucippe, Callisthenes and Calligone, are
concluded by happy weddings. And among the leading characters only
Melitte suffers final disappointment. Achilles Tatius ironically grants
her at least one memorable embrace on a prison floor!
The character drawing is much less elaborate than the plot. While plot
and counterplot of the two romances interplay, the young hero Clitophon
and the beautiful Leucippe are more or less conventional figures who
move glamorously, weeping, fainting, dreaming, voyaging, through
preposterous adventures. But Callisthenes, the secondary hero, is far
more interesting than Clitophon because his character shows startling
development. And Melitte, though she plays the part of temptress, is a
great human creation.
In Book II Callisthenes first appears as a wealthy orphan, who is
notoriously dissipated and extravagant. Wishing to marry beauty and
having a strange streak of romanticism he asked Sostratus for the hand
of the beautiful Leucippe although he had never seen her. Rejected by
Sostratus as a suitor because of his bad reputation he plotted vengeance
in his willful and violent way. He journeyed to Tyre, saw Calligone at a
festival, mistook her for Leucippe, fell in love at first sight, hired
some gangsters to kidnap her and sailed off with his prize. [159]
Callisthenes does not reappear until in the end of Book VIII Sostratus
tells the story of his reform. [160] On the voyage Callisthenes found
himself madly in love with Calligone, revealed to her that he was no
pirate but a wealthy Byzantine noble, offered her honorable marriage and
a large dowry, and promised to respect her chastity as long as she
desired. At Byzantium, love transformed him so that he appeared
courteous, virtuous, self-controlled. He showed great respect for his
elders. He was no longer extravagant, but became philanthropic. He gave
large contributions to the state. He trained for military service and
won distinction in actual warfare. In this changed guise he secured
Sostratus as an advocate to persuade Hippias to give him the hand of
Calligone, whose chastity he had scrupulously respected. Eros thus
salvaged Callisthenes and then rewarded him.
Melitte the widow of Ephesus is the most elaborately drawn character in
the romance. There is even a long personal description of her: she is as
beautiful as a statue with skin like milk, cheeks roses, hair thick,
long, golden, and about her the radiance of Aphrodite. Clitophon admits
he saw her with pleasure. Indeed she is so magnetic that the kisses she
was pleased to bestow on him stirred him. [161] She knew what she wanted
and how to get it. During four months she had to woo Clitophon though
she was rich and young and her husband has been lost at sea. Finally
since Clitophon was convinced that Leucippe was really dead, he yielded
and agreed to marry her, though on condition that they should not be
united until they arrived at Ephesus. She was as passionate as Clitophon
was cold. On the ship she made ardent love to him while he begged her to
philosophize on love’s nature. After Clitophon secretly received
Leucippe’s letter, he had to pretend illness to postpone the fulfillment
of her desires. Then Melitte sent for her so-called Thessalian slave
Lacaena (really Leucippe) and begged her to concoct a philtre that would
arouse Clitophon’s feeling. She is very outspoken about the fact that
Clitophon seems made of iron or wood; that indeed she seemed to love a
statue. [162] And she had the ability to express to Clitophon every
feeling she had without inhibition and in most picturesque language. At
her wedding breakfast in Alexandria she punned merrily about the
postponement of their union. “I’ve heard of a cenotaph but never before
of a cenogam. ”[163] The bellying sail on the ship she compared to a
pregnant woman’s body; indeed she converted the whole ship into symbols
of marriage. [164] She also compared herself to thirsty Tantalus standing
by a river but not allowed to drink. She could match Clitophon’s
arguments and his quibbles did not deceive her: “You are playing the
sophist, dearest! ” she commented. When from the discovery of Leucippe’s
letter to Clitophon and her husband’s safe return she knew that she had
lost Clitophon, she visited him secretly in prison and poured out on him
all her wrath and all her passion. Her denunciation of him as eunuch,
hermaphrodite, senile nonentity shifted to adoration; and passion
finally concentrated into so ardent and well argued an appeal for one
embrace that she was victorious. Clitophon admitted ironically that love
had taught her rhetoric and that he was vanquished, so he gave the
remedy to a sick soul and even on the prison floor enjoyed her! [165]
Melitte was no less subtle and plausible in the speech in which she made
her peace with her enraged husband Thersander: Clitophon was only one of
many refugees whom she aided in memory of her husband lost at sea;
indeed she had helped Clitophon to find his wife. [166] When Thersander
challenged her by the ordeal of the water of the Styx, Melitte at once
accepted the test on a quibble because her husband had demanded from her
an oath that she had not fulfilled the rites of Aphrodite with the
stranger _during the time while he himself was abroad_. And it was just
that unfortunate stipulation which makes her last appearance in the
romance unforgettable. She is led out of the water of the Styx by the
judge, proved by indisputable ordeal a chaste woman! Achilles Tatius has
won his readers by this time to rejoice in Melitte’s vindication. For
besides charm and cleverness he has given her humanity and generosity.
She was always merciful to her slaves and was kindness itself to
Lacaena-Leucippe. [167] After she had won her desire, she contrived the
escape of Clitophon from prison dressed in her clothes, and financed by
her. She did not even forget the jailer, but gave him money to go away
for a time to avoid punishment. [168] Clitophon omitted in his final
narrative of his adventures his succumbing to Melitte[169] but he had
the grace to admit to himself her charms.
It is clear that in the ethics of the romance there is a new point of
view. Achilles Tatius is definitely less idealistic than Chariton in his
treatment of the erotic theme. As Rattenbury has pointed out:
“Achilles Tatius seems to have felt that the fetish of chastity in the
average romance was absurd, and tries to humanize romance by creating
characters that are reasonably, not unreasonably, moral. . . . Leucippe
comes through safe and sound, it is true, but it was by good luck rather
than by good intention. ” Clitophon is chaste as far as men can be and
succumbs to Melitte only once. “Achilles Tatius,” continues Rattenbury,
“did not exactly parody his predecessors, but it is suggested that by
attempting to humanize romance he not only showed up the absurdities of
the usual stories, but was also responsible for the overthrow of the
literary form. . . . Achilles Tatius seems to have been to Greek Romance
what Euripides was to Greek Tragedy. He broke down the conventions, and
drove the essential and permanent elements to seek refuge elsewhere. The
erotic element did not die, but found an outlet in ‘Love-Letters,’ a
contemporary literary form of which Aristaenetus was an exponent in the
fifth century, but the idealized love story of a superhumanly modest
hero and heroine vanished, and Greek Romance hibernated until it was
revived some centuries later by the Byzantine writers. ”[170]
Not inconsistent with Tatius’ slightly ironic treatment of amours is his
emphasis on the virtue of pity and his tendency to introduce long
philosophical discussions of conduct or the nature of love. Clitophon’s
story moves an Egyptian general to pity, tears and aid, for
“When a man hears of another’s misfortune, he is inclined towards
pity, and pity is often the introduction to friendship; the heart is
softened by grief for what it hears, and gradually feeling the same
emotions at the mournful story converts its commiseration into
friendship and the grief into pity. ”[171]
In the midst of Thersander’s attempt to rape the weeping Leucippe, there
is a long digression on tears and the pity they arouse. [172] Clinias
appeals to the court not to put to death “a man who deserves pity rather
than punishment. ”[173] Leucippe, disguised as a slave, begs Melitte as a
woman to pity a woman and to pity one once free, now through Fortune’s
will a slave. [174]
Tatius has presented also in Callisthenes a picture of a noble young
hero who was converted from the wildness of youth to self-control,
respect, patriotism and service by chivalrous love. [175] And this
portrait of Callisthenes becomes an embodiment of an ideal latent in the
philosophical discussions of love which flavor the romance. “Love,” says
Clitophon, “inspired by beauty enters the heart through the eyes. ”[176]
Later Clinias tells Clitophon that he is greatly fortunate in being able
to see his lady, for when eyes of lovers meet, the emanations of their
beauty wed in a spiritual union that transcends bodily embrace. [177]
Clitophon, wooing Leucippe in a fair garden, discourses to her on the
power of love over birds, creeping things, plants, even iron which
responds to the magnet, over water (for Arethusa and Alpheus wed). [178]
To cheer up Menelaus and Clinias on ship-board and divert them from
their sorrows, Clitophon starts a philosophic discussion on love of
women compared with love of men, untranslatable in its openness. [179]
Menelaus takes up the cudgels for the love of men, probably much to
Clinias’ satisfaction for he had previously denounced to his dear
Charicles the love of women who, if they love, kill and had arraigned
for his indictment Eriphyle, Philomela, Sthenoboea, Chryseis, Briseis,
Candaules’ wife, Helen, Penelope, Phaedra, Clytemnestra! [180]
The worship of the kiss is featured in an enchanting story of a magic
charm breathed on the lover’s lips[181] and a fantastic assertion that
if a maiden’s kiss is stolen, the maid is raped. [182] Moreover a code of
love is presented, almost as detailed as Ovid’s _Ars Amatoria_, in
instructions given by Clinias to Clitophon,[183] by the slave Satyrus to
Clitophon,[184] by Clitophon in discussion with Menelaus. [185] A
delightful part of this Art of Love is telling the Lady love-stories,
for all womankind is fond of myths. [186] Magic too plays its part in the
technique of love, for incantation works a charm for a lover;[187]
philtres may bewitch the indifferent;[188] and ordeals test
chastity. [189]
Closely akin to the philosophical discussions of love, its power, its
art, its magic is the worship of Aphrodite, the mother of Eros. Yet
there are few references to her cult. Her dominance is hinted:
initiation into love makes Aphrodite the most powerful of gods. [190]
Melitte wishes to have her nuptials on the sea, for Aphrodite is the
sea’s daughter and she wishes to propitiate her as the goddess of
marriage by thus honoring the sea, her mother. [191] Clitophon at the end
of his separation from Leucippe prays to Lady Aphrodite to forgive the
long delay in their union, for it was due to no insult to her and he
begs her blessing on their marriage. [192] The story of the ordeal by the
water of the Styx[193] is a merry tale of rivalry between Artemis and
Aphrodite for a young girl’s worship in which Aphrodite made young
Rhodopis break her oath of chastity but Artemis changed her into a
spring in the very cave where she lost her virginity. Yet Achilles
Tatius presents no such deep-seated reverence for the goddess of Love as
that which permeates Chariton’s romance.
Artemis of Ephesus is rather the deity who dominates Tatius’ story. She
appears in dreams to the heroine and to Leucippe’s father.
[194] In her
name Leucippe rebukes Thersander for insulting a virgin in the city of
the Virgin Goddess. [195] Sostratus arrives at Ephesus as the head of a
sacred embassy in honor of Artemis and so finds his daughter. [196]
Leucippe has taken refuge in the temple of Artemis and in that temple at
last she and Clitophon are reunited. [197] Here the villain of the piece
Thersander brutally attacks Clitophon. [198] Thersander’s lawyer in court
makes insulting slanders about the fact that Clitophon and Leucippe
probably defiled the temple by an amour there. [199] But Artemis is
proved to be no liar, and there is implicit recognition of her
protection of Leucippe though Achilles Tatius does not end with
thanksgiving to her. Her cult forms an objective background of religious
tradition for the action. No deep religious feeling for her is
manifested.
There is no more aspiration to god in the other cults which are
mentioned incidentally: of Apollo, Hercules of Tyre, the god of the
lower world, Pan. And the cruel goddess Fortune is berated only
occasionally. Superstition recognizes omens in the world of nature: the
eagle stealing the sacrifice, the hawk pursuing the swallow. [200]
Oracles are respected. [201] And the ordeals of Pan’s pipes and the
Styx’s water receive general credence. Festivals to the gods are
celebrated. [202] But religion seems rather a matter of scrupulous regard
for ritual than communion with god or relief to the soul.
As we compare the romances of Chariton and Achilles Tatius we find that
not only has the main interest shifted from love and worship to
incidents and adventures. An even greater change has come about in the
style. Homeric simplicity has given way to rhetorical elaboration.
Tatius may well have been a ῥήτωρ as the scholiast Thomas Magister
states, for his whole style is dyed in the rhetoric of the schools and
the speeches delivered in the various lawsuits in the plot are
masterpieces of rhetoric.
Among his acknowledged literary debts, however, he credits most to epic,
for he quotes Homer once[203] and alludes to him five times[204] and he
refers to Hesiod twice. [205] The messenger speeches in tragedy
undoubtedly suggested the slave’s dramatic narrative of the death of
Charicles in a riding accident. [206] Both the New and the Old Attic
Comedy contributed much to his humor: the New in the comic literary
contest of the slaves Conops and Satyrus who deride each other under
cover of fables;[207] and the Old in the Aristophanic priest of Artemis
who “was no poor hand at speaking, and as good at quip and gibe as the
plays of Aristophanes. ”[208] But the training of the rhetorical schools
outweighs all other influences. About half of Books VII and VIII is
devoted to the trial of Clitophon for adultery and self-confessed
murder. The court sits in Ephesus with a jury and a presiding judge, but
their functions are vague. The prosecution speaks first, Thersander and
his ten lawyers, whose speeches fortunately are not reported. Clitophon
answers them by a false narrative accusing himself of the murder of
Leucippe and involving Melitte. Clinias gets the floor and tells the
true story: that Clitophon desires only to die, that he deserves pity
rather than condemnation and must be regarded as insane.
In the wild confusion that follows, Thersander’s counsel shouts for a
sentence of murder, Melitte offers her slaves to be questioned on her
innocence and demands that her husband produce Sosthenes who is probably
the murderer. Thersander in a long speech answers Melitte’s challenge
about Sosthenes with the result that the presiding officer pronounces
sentence of death on Clitophon but postpones Melitte’s case. Clitophon
is just on the point of being tortured for evidence when the arrival of
a sacred embassy to Artemis postpones the case of Melitte and the
execution of Clitophon.
Only after the work of the embassy is finished is the case resumed. Then
Thersander speaks first, demanding the execution of the sentence. He
condemns the priest who has released Clitophon and says he has usurped
the function of giving refuge to criminals which belongs to Artemis. He
adds foul personal abuse. He presents a second charge against Melitte
for adultery and a third against his slave girl Leucippe and her father.
The priest in his reply deserves the epithet “Aristophanic” which he has
won, for he pays Thersander back in his own coin of abuse only clothing
it in the wit of Aristophanes with all his double-meaning of words, his
biting attack. And his own arguments point the irony of the situation:
Thersander clapped Clitophon in jail before he was allowed to defend
himself. He charged him with murdering Leucippe but the young lady is
alive!
Sopater, counsel for Thersander, next hurls insulting invective at the
priest and whitewashes his noble client who has been betrayed by a
faithless wife. Thersander then presents a formal challenge to Melitte
and Leucippe to prove their chastity and on their acceptance of it, the
court adjourns. Next day all reassemble at the cave of Pan and the
spring of the Styx. The ladies are proved innocent. Thersander flees and
then is sentenced to banishment. Clitophon—and Melitte—are acquitted.
This summary of the procedure of the court in Ephesus shows what
opportunity Achilles Tatius made for presenting the rhetorical speeches
which he cherished. They are many. They are full of specious argument,
personal attack, appeal to the emotions, attempted pathos which becomes
bathos and genuine ἦθος. The speakers are true to type: the impassioned
lover, the leal friend, the haughty, imperious, lustful noble, his
sophistical lawyer, the Aristophanic priest. Such agonistic scenes must
have entertained the reader of the time as much as they did the author.
Actually this same favorite rhetorical style is also assigned to the
characters in private life: Melitte in her impassioned speech to
Clitophon in prison talks like a sophist, for Eros teaches even
arguments! [209]
Long mythological narratives are another feature of Tatius’ style. The
sight of a painting makes it necessary for him to relate the whole story
of Procne and Philomela to Leucippe. [210] The stories of the origins of
the two ordeals to prove chastity are told with equal detail. The
discovery of wine is elaborately related in the Tyrian version on the
occasion of the festival of Dionysus. [211] These are a few out of many
illustrations.
Descriptive writing is employed as much as, perhaps more than, forensic
or narrative. Indeed the purple patches almost overbalance plot,
conversation and oratory. Works of art, setting for scenes, natural
phenomena, the wonders of the world are introduced in highly colored
digressions which are clearly the ekphraseis which the students of
rhetoric were taught to compose and deliver.
Achilles Tatius apparently was enamored of wall-paintings. He describes
with gusto five and alludes to another. The subjects of all are myths.
Two are familiar types in the frescoes found at Pompeii: Perseus and
Andromeda, Achilles in women’s clothes among the daughters of King
Lycomedes. One description of a painting opens the romance, a votive
painting of Europa in the temple of Astarte at Sidon. [212] Sidon is the
first word of the novel and this story is introduced as a tribute to the
city where the first scene was laid, for the stemma on the coins of
Sidon is Europa on the bull, pictured almost as Tatius presents her. The
picture is described in vivid detail even to the flowers in the meadow
and the shifting colors of the sea. Posture and garb of Europa are
vividly sketched in words for he sees her “seated on the bull like a
vessel under way, using the veil as a sail. ” The keynote of the picture
and the point of its application for Tatius is the little flying Eros
who leads the bull and laughs back at the transformed Zeus. “Look,” said
Clitophon, “how that imp dominates over land and sea. ” A young man
standing by exclaims that he too has suffered much from love. These
exclamations are the point of departure for the recounting of love
adventures.
In Book III there is an equally long description of a painting by
Evanthes in the temple of Zeus Casius. [213] The subjects are Andromeda
and Prometheus and they seem to have been paired because both were
chained to rocks, menaced by beasts and rescued by Argive heroes,
Perseus and Hercules. Design, color, emotion are all described vividly
and charmingly, but there is no point in the introduction of the
paintings. The description of them is simply a purple patch of fine
writing.
In Book V the description of a painting in a studio depicting the rape
of Philomela had “a hidden significance. ”[214] The whole story was
represented: “the rape of Philomela, the violence employed by Tereus,
and the cutting out of her tongue . . . the tapestry, Tereus himself, and
the fatal table. ” Ugly realism, terror, insane laughter characterize the
treatment. The hidden meaning is that the sudden sight of the picture is
a bad omen threatening disaster which makes Clitophon postpone his
journey to Pharos. The delay gives him a chance to tell the whole story
of Philomela to Leucippe, for all women love myths.
Small works of art also are described lovingly and minutely: a
rock-crystal goblet carved in a grape-vine,[215] a jewelled
necklace. [216] These enrich the setting as scattered flowers enrich the
backgrounds of Renaissance tapestries. It is as though Achilles Tatius
like Corinthian potters or Renaissance artists had such an _horror
vacui_ that empty spaces in design were intolerable and interstices had
to be crowded with beautiful small objects. This is due in part to an
observant eye that saw and recorded detail. The specific and the graphic
are his tools for clarity. The story of the attempted amour of Clitophon
and Leucippe is vivified by a plan of the house as clear as the drawn
plans in many modern detective stories. [217] The garden in which
Clitophon’s love-making is once set is described elaborately with its
porticoes, trees, vines, flowers, spring and birds. [218] The storm at
sea in its violence and coloring is as lurid as a Turner, and its
effects on the shipwrecked passengers are described with a true
psychology of terror and panic. [219]
The long description of the storm is justified by the vital significance
of the shipwreck for the plot, but what of the write-ups of the wonders
of the world which are constantly introduced? The beautiful description
of Alexandria with its pharos is brief and pardonable as this was the
birthplace of the author. But only the love of novelty of the times and
bad taste seem to explain the perpetrations of wordy descriptions of the
Nile, the phoenix, the hippopotamus, the elephant and the
crocodile! [220] The romance at times tends to become a natural history.
Wolff becomes so out of patience with “the damnable iteration” of
irrelevancies in _Clitophon and Leucippe_ that he can hardly calm
himself to analyze them in suggestive groups: irrelevancies of plot, of
characterization, of setting, of science and pseudo-science. The only
justification for such irrelevancies Wolff finds in “a common basis with
paradox. Both defeat expectation. . . . In both its phases,—irrelevancy and
paradox—this element of _the unexpected_, prominent in the form as in
the matter of the Greek Romances, deserves attention. To turn aside to
the irrelevant; to strain suspense by retarding the expected outcome; to
introduce by the way—all unlooked for—as many bizarre, ironical,
paradoxical situations and dazzling phrases as possible; and finally to
‘spring’ an issue which is itself a surprising combination of
opposites—all these would seem to be consistent results of adopting the
unexpected as the principle of the genre. ”[221]
After all this is said in criticism of Achilles Tatius’ exuberant style
and unlimited digressions, we go back to his fundamentals: a clear plot,
living human beings, vivid settings for them, and exciting adventures.
Achilles Tatius knew his age and for its disillusions he wrote with
ironic tolerance of human frailty and for its weariness he emphasized
the excitement of adventure and the stimulus of the unexpected. To me
his successes chalk up to a longer list than his failures and I end with
Phillimore:
“What a strange thought—that an Alexandrian with the names of Achilles
Tatius (what a pair! ), atticizing _con furore_ in the reign of
Diocletian, should write a story which delighted the Byzantine Middle
Ages and can still be read with interest and amusement! ”[222]
VI
THE LESBIAN PASTORALS OF DAPHNIS AND CHLOE
_BY LONGUS_
The very title of Longus’ romance shows a new departure. These Lesbian
Pastorals in four books form the only pastoral romance in Greek that is
extant. Compared with the other romances that of Longus is unique in
type, characters, setting and structure. Theocritus is the pervading
influence. Most of the leading characters are not nobles but serfs. Even
the young hero and heroine are brought up as shepherds until at the end
they are recognized as children of the great. City life plays little
part in the plot. The changing seasons make the set. Only a few
adventures disturb the serenity of the hills and pasturelands: an onset
of pirates, a local war and (of course! ) the usual kidnappings. Country
gods are worshipped. The music of Pan’s pipes is the accompaniment of
the story.
Of the author we know nothing. Longus “is not mentioned by any other
writer before the Byzantine age, and himself mentions no historical name
or event. ”[223] From internal evidence of his novel we see that he knew
Mytilene well; he was familiar with Greek and Roman literature and with
works of art; he had received a sophist’s training in the rhetorical
schools. He wrote probably in the second century A. D. , before Achilles
Tatius.
The early editions and translations show why Longus was so influential
in Elizabethan England and indeed in the modern European literatures.
The first edition of the Greek text was published by the Junta Press in
Florence in 1598, but before that the romance had received its first
printing in Amyot’s French translation in 1559 and in the first English
translation by Angell Daye in 1587. This “earliest English version”
which was dedicated to Queen Elizabeth was more of an adaptation than a
translation. Its title-page demands perusal:
“Daphnis and Chloe excellently describing the weight of affection, the
simplicitie of love, the purport of honest meaning, the resolution of
men, and disposition of Fate, finished in a Pastorall, and interlaced
with the praises of a most peerlesse Princesse, wonderfull in
Maiestie, and rare in perfection, celebrated within the same
Pastorall, and therefore termed by the name of The Shepheards
Holidaie. By Angell Daye. Altior fortuna virtus. ”
The title-page of the 1657 translation by “Geo. Thornley, Gent. ” was
dubbed “Daphnis and Chloe a most sweet and pleasant pastoral romance for
young ladies” and it too bore a Latin motto: “Humili casa nihil
antiquius nihil nobilius. —Sen. Philos. ”
It is this delightful old translation which J. M. Edmonds “revised and
augmented” in his version for _The Loeb Classical Library_ and in his
introduction there Edmonds says that this seems to have been George
Thornley’s only publication. He was a sizar in Christ’s College and
received his Bachelor in Arts from the University of Cambridge. It is
this translation of Edmonds-Thornley which I shall use in my quotations.
Longus wrote a Prooimion to his romance which reveals the occasion and
the purpose of his writing. While hunting in Lesbos he saw in a fair
grove of the Nymphs a painted picture which told a tale of ancient love.
“There were figured in it young women, in the posture, some of
teeming, others of swaddling, little children; babes exposed, and ewes
giving them suck; shepherds taking up foundlings, young persons
plighting their troth; an incursion of thieves, an inroad of armed
men. ”
And on studying the painting Longus says:
“I had a mighty instigation to write something as to answer that
picture. And therefore, when I had carefully sought and found an
interpreter of the image, I drew up these four books, an oblation to
Love and to Pan and to the Nymphs, and a delightful possession even
for all men. For this will cure him that is sick, and rouse him that
is in dumps; one that has loved, it will remember of it; one that has
not, it will instruct. For there was never any yet that wholly could
escape love, and never shall there be any, never so long as beauty
shall be, never so long as eyes can see. But help me that God to write
the passions of others; and while I write, keep me in my own right
wits. ”
With this delightful prayer, our humorous nympholept Longus begins his
story. We must now outline briefly his four books of Pastorals.
The characters are:
_Daphnis_, a young goatherd
_Lamo_, foster-father of Daphnis
_Myrtale_, foster-mother of Daphnis
_Chloe_, a young shepherdess
_Dryas_, foster-father of Chloe
_Nape_, foster-mother of Chloe
_Dorco_, an oxherd
_Philetas_, an aged shepherd and a famous piper
_Lycaenium_, a city chit married to a swain
_Dionysophanes_, lord of the manor
_Clearista_, his wife
_Astylus_, his son
_Gnatho_, a parasite of Astylus
_Lampis_, a herdsman
Tyrian pirates
Young nobles of Methymna
In Lesbos near Mytilene there was a great estate of a great noble. On it
once strange things happened for a goatherd Lamo found a fine baby boy
being nursed by a she-goat. Purple was his cloak and near him was a
little golden sword with an ivory handle. Lamo and his wife Myrtale
reared the child and named him Daphnis. Two years later another shepherd
Dryas found in a cave sacred to the nymphs and carved with pictures of
them a baby girl being nursed by a sheep. And beside her were little
possessions, a girdle embroidered in gold, gilded shoes, golden anklets.
Dryas and his wife reared the child and named her Chloe. These are our
hero and heroine.
Now when Daphnis was fifteen and Chloe thirteen, one night both Lamo and
Dryas had the same dream. The nymphs of the cave appeared and gave
Daphnis and Chloe to a certain little winged boy with bow and arrow who
touched them with an arrow and ordered that Daphnis tend a flock of
goats and Chloe a flock of sheep. Their parents were disappointed that
they too were to become herdsmen, for they had given the children a good
education, but they offered sacrifice in the cave to the Boy and obeyed.
The year was at the spring. Birds were singing, lambs gamboling, flowers
blooming. The children too sang and danced together and made garlands of
flowers for the Nymphs. All their joy and work they shared. But into
this paradise came danger. Trap-ditches had been set to catch a
marauding wolf and into one, as he pursued a he-goat, fell Daphnis. He
was drawn up all bloody and must needs wash in the cave of the Nymphs.
Chloe as she washed his back thought she had never seen any-one so fair
or touched anything so soft. Love began here though she knew it not.
Another danger menaced. Dorco an oxherd who had helped draw Daphnis from
the pit fell in love with Chloe (he was a full-grown lad) and when he
could not get her by gifts, he and Daphnis held a contest of words for
beauty and Chloe was umpire. When their speeches were finished, Chloe at
once gave to Daphnis her prize—a kiss—and that kiss made Daphnis fall in
love though he did not know what love was.
Defeated Dorco next appealed to Dryas for Chloe as a wife, but Dryas
rejected him. Then he tried a base trick. He dressed up in a wolf-skin
and hid near the spring where the beasts watered, hoping to meet Chloe
alone there. This he did, but the sheep-dogs caught him first and would
have killed him had not Chloe and Daphnis saved him. They thought
Dorco’s disguise was only a game, for they never dreamed of rape in
their innocence.
So through spring and summer Daphnis and Chloe tended their flocks and
played the pipes together. But in the autumn Tyrian pirates descended on
the shore to raven. They wounded Dorco and stole his cows and kidnapped
Daphnis. Dorco dying gave his pipe to Chloe for one kiss at last and
bade her pipe his cows off the ship. And the cows on hearing the call of
the pipe jumped overboard and swam ashore with Daphnis charioted between
two holding to their horns. The boat was upset and the pirates who were
all in armor drowned. Daphnis and Chloe went to poor Dorco’s funeral.
They dedicated his pipe to the Nymphs. They cheered their flocks who lay
mourning for Daphnis on the hills. And all went on as before except that
Daphnis’ heart ached,—why he did not know.
Now (in Book II) came the time of vintage. These charming children
helped pick the grapes, tread the wine-press, fill the vats with the new
wine. That work done, back to their flocks went Daphnis and Chloe. There
old Philetas met them and sitting down told them a bright story of how
Eros had appeared to him in his garden, a little winged boy flitting
birdlike from tree to tree. And Philetas tried to teach the children who
Eros was and what was his power, for Philetas had loved Amaryllis in his
youth. But though Philetas as a wise _praeceptor amoris_ instructed them
thus: “There is no medicine for love, neither meat, nor drink, nor any
charm, but only kissing and embracing and lying side by side,” the
children did not understand his teaching and played this game of love
without fulfillment. And as they exchanged childish kisses, disaster
again broke upon them.
Some young nobles of Methymna put in at the shore in a gallant boat to
make holiday, fishing and hunting with their dogs. When a country fellow
stole the rope that tied up their ship, they carelessly made another of
green withes. Then their dogs while hunting frightened Daphnis’ goats
and drove them down to the shore and some finding no other fodder ate up
the green cable. At that a strong wind off shore blew the boat out to
sea to the great rage of the young Methymnaean owners. They beat up
Daphnis in a fight with the peasants in which they too were wounded and
prosecuted him in court, but Philetas was the presiding judge and
acquitted the goatherd of any wrong.
travels and is touring the city, looking at the temples. He describes a
painting of Zeus and Europa, also a statue of Eros. He was reflecting on
the Eros: “Think of such a brat being lord of earth and sea! ” When a
young man near testifies to Eros’ power which he has felt, the author
invites him to tell his story. In a Platonic scene under a plane-tree
near a stream they sit down.
The stranger, Clitophon, a Greek of Tyre, tells his story in the first
person. Clitophon has been unwillingly betrothed at nineteen to his
half-sister, Calligone. Now his uncle, Sostratus, writes that he is
sending his daughter Leucippe and her mother from their home in
Byzantium to Tyre for safety during a war. Clitophon at once falls in
love with Leucippe. He makes his cousin, Clinias, his confidant. Clinias
is sympathetic because he had a tragic love affair with a youth who was
killed by a fall from a horse which Clinias gave him. (Here is
introduced a purple patch on the driving accident. )
Encouraged by Clinias, Clitophon makes love constantly. Various scenes
of his wooing, for example a garden, are described in detail. Finally
the lovers elope, find a ship at Berytus, embark and start to
Alexandria. They meet an Egyptian fellow-passenger, Menelaus. There
comes a great storm. Hero and heroine are cast on shore at Pelusium near
the temple of Zeus Casius. Enter black brigands. Soldiers rescue
Clitophon, but Leucippe is kidnapped. Clitophon joins in an attempt to
save her, but it is baulked by a deep, impassable canal between the
rescuing party and the ten thousand brigands. Across it Clitophon
watches the bandits perform a human sacrifice by disembowelling the
victim before an altar. It is Leucippe. The body is put in a coffin.
The next day the canal is diked and crossed. Clitophon resolves to die
on Leucippe’s body, but suddenly he meets his slave Satyrus and
Menelaus, both saved from the wreck, who assure him that Leucippe is
alive. On the coffin being opened, she comes out—“Gashed open and minus
all viscera. ” But the murderers had been deceived by a sheepskin full of
animal entrails attached to her and by a stage sword which never
penetrated her body. Clinias too was saved from the wreck. Now a
punitive expedition under Charmides, the Egyptian, starts, but
unfortunately he falls in love with Leucippe and has a philtre given her
which drives her insane. On her recovery they go to Alexandria. There a
new rival, Chaereas, abducts Leucippe. Clitophon pursues on a ship of
war, but has to endure seeing Leucippe beheaded on the deck of the
enemy’s vessel. Clitophon recovers the head from the sea and gives it
burial.
Six months later Clitophon meets Clinias again. Clinias who had been
home in Sidon reports that “the cruel parent had actually betrothed the
loving cousins” so Clitophon and Leucippe might have married in peace.
Clitophon who naturally believes Leucippe dead is pursued by Melitte, a
lovely, wealthy and amorous widow of Ephesus. He finally yields to her;
they are betrothed in the temple of Isis and are to be married when they
reach Ephesus. On their arrival, Melitte drives Clitophon around her
great estates. There he has the overwhelming surprise of encountering
Leucippe who is working in the garden as a miserable slave. This
difficult situation is made more complicated by the sudden reappearance
of Melitte’s husband, Thersander, who had been falsely reported drowned
at sea. Thersander beats up Clitophon as an adulterer with his wife and
has him imprisoned.
Sosthenes, the bailiff of Thersander, interests his master in Leucippe,
so he tries to seduce her, but unsuccessfully. Clitophon in prison is
told a false story that both Leucippe and Melitte are faithless to him.
Clitophon resolves to denounce Melitte as an accomplice in a plot for
the murder of Leucippe and then to die. He is tried for adultery and
self-confessed murder, but Clinias foils his attempt by telling the
whole truth in court. Sosthenes departs, leaving Leucippe free.
Leucippe’s father, Sostratus, by good fortune arrives in Ephesus on a
sacred embassy just in time to assist his daughter. The trial of
Clitophon is resumed in a long court scene in which finally Thersander
challenges Leucippe and Melitte to tests of chastity by the magic pipes
of Pan and the magic spring of Rhodopis. Both pass the ordeals.
Thersander, since everything is going against him, for his slave,
Sosthenes, has been captured and will be forced to confess the truth,
flees. Sosthenes confesses. Clitophon is acquitted. Leucippe tells her
whole story: how the bandits beheaded another woman dressed in her
clothes to prevent Clitophon from following; how a quarrel over her
arose among them in which Chaereas was slain; then she was sold by the
other pirates to Sosthenes, who bought her for Thersander. Sostratus
then relates the secondary romance of Callisthenes and Calligone. The
novel ends with a happy reunion of all at Tyre where prayers and
sacrifices are offered in behalf of the lasting felicity of Clitophon
and Leucippe, of Callisthenes and Calligone.
Such is the story which Phillimore characterizes as “a breathless
succession of improbable incident. ”[143] The settings move with the same
cinematic rapidity which Chariton employed: from Sidon to Berytus, to
the sea and shipwreck, to Pelusium and Alexandria, to Ephesus and the
great court scene, to Byzantium and back again to Tyre.
In one point particularly the structure of the plot differs from
Chariton’s and indeed from the plots of all the other Greek Romances.
The author in the beginning hands over the story to a narrator, the
hero, Clitophon, who then tells the events in the first person. Very
soon, however, the reader has forgotten this device: so many other
characters are given the floor to relate their own tales. And at the end
the author too has forgotten this beginning, for Clitophon does not
round up his narrative with a polite farewell. He does not even explain
how he happened to be at Sidon where he started the tale. And the author
does not express his appreciation of the entertainment Clitophon has
given him. [144]
The chief interests of the romance are again love, adventure and
religion. There are two love-stories of primary interest instead of one.
Yet the bulk of the plot turns on adventure rather than on sex or
worship. And delight in adventure adds to the typical travellers’ tales
a flaming curiosity which demands description of many strange novelties.
In general the technical devices common to all the romances are used.
There is much conversation. There are many soliloquies. Clitophon
upbraids himself for swerving from Calligone to Leucippe. [145] Later he
bemoans Leucippe’s fate when she has been kidnapped by the blacks. [146]
Leucippe, sold as a slave, laments her whole sad love-story while
lustful Thersander is eavesdropping outside the door. [147] Clitophon, on
hearing in prison the false story that Leucippe has been murdered by
Melitte, voices his horror over her death and over the fact that he had
kissed her slayer. [148] These soliloquies are employed to reveal the
intense feelings of hero and heroine at emotional crises.
Three letters are used. The first is a brief business letter which
serves to develop the plot, for in it Sostratus writes to his brother
Hippias that he is sending his daughter Leucippe and his wife Panthea to
him for safe-keeping until the war between the Byzantines and the
Thracians is over. [149] The other two are love-letters. One is
Leucippe’s to Clitophon telling him that she has been sold as a slave,
begging for ransom money, wishing him happiness in his coming nuptials
with Melitte, and assuring him she is still a virgin. The other is
Clitophon’s answer declaring that he has “imitated her virginity, if
there be any virginity in men,” begging her not to judge him until he
can explain all, but to pity him. [150] Leucippe’s letter is found by
Melitte and helps motivate the plot in its emotional aspects, for it
works Melitte up through jealousy and despair to such passionate ardor
that she persuades Clitophon to sleep one night with her. [151]
Oaths are not important in the structure of the plot. Once Leucippe
swears to her father by Artemis that she has told him a true story about
being still a maid. [152] Dreams are frequent and are significant. Four
are reported which are vital factors in the plot. Clitophon’s father
dreams that while he is conducting the wedding ceremonies of his son and
Calligone the torches are extinguished. This dream leads him to hasten
the marriage so distasteful to Clitophon and it would have been
consummated at once had not Calligone been kidnapped by Callisthenes
under the impression that she was Leucippe. [153] Then Clitophon had
persuaded Leucippe to let him spend the night with her and with the aid
of Satyrus was already in her bedroom. Leucippe’s mother who had just
had a dream that a robber with a naked sword was playing the part of
Jack the Ripper with her daughter, rushed in and interrupted the
amour. [154] Later on, Leucippe and Clitophon on the same night have
similar dreams. A goddess appears and warns each that their love must
not be consummated until the goddess decks the bride and opens her
temple to the bridegroom. This apparition makes them postpone the rites
of Aphrodite. [155] In Book VII Sostratus, Leucippe’s father, sees in a
dream an apparition of Artemis who tells him that he will find Leucippe
and Clitophon in Ephesus. He goes to Ephesus then on a sacred embassy
and finds that Artemis does not lie. [156]
This tendency to a repeated use of the same device for forwarding the
plot is seen in greater extravagance and exaggeration in the use of
apparent deaths. Leucippe is supposed to meet violent death three times,
twice before the eyes of her lover, once in vivid narrative told to him
in prison. First she is sacrificed by brigands by being disembowelled
before an altar. Second she is beheaded on the deck of a ship by black
pirates and her head tossed into the ocean. Third she is murdered by an
assassin hired by Melitte. [157] In the first two cases ghastly details
make the executions seem real, but Leucippe always survives and
reappears with a plausible but exotic story. Surely in this exaggeration
Achilles Tatius is using thinly veiled satire of the device of
improbable reappearances in the Greek romance.
The same exuberance appears in the use of the forensic speeches, of
long, mythological narratives and of wordy descriptions. All these will
be considered in the study of the style of the romance. Two more
technical devices of the plot must be mentioned here: the use of résumés
and the usual happy ending. Book VIII is crowded with résumés: Clitophon
tells all his adventures to Sostratus and the priest of Artemis.
Leucippe relates to Sostratus how the pirates decapitated another woman
in her place. Finally Sostratus relates to his daughter and to Clitophon
the romance of Callisthenes and Calligone. [158] The romances of both
pairs of lovers, Clitophon and Leucippe, Callisthenes and Calligone, are
concluded by happy weddings. And among the leading characters only
Melitte suffers final disappointment. Achilles Tatius ironically grants
her at least one memorable embrace on a prison floor!
The character drawing is much less elaborate than the plot. While plot
and counterplot of the two romances interplay, the young hero Clitophon
and the beautiful Leucippe are more or less conventional figures who
move glamorously, weeping, fainting, dreaming, voyaging, through
preposterous adventures. But Callisthenes, the secondary hero, is far
more interesting than Clitophon because his character shows startling
development. And Melitte, though she plays the part of temptress, is a
great human creation.
In Book II Callisthenes first appears as a wealthy orphan, who is
notoriously dissipated and extravagant. Wishing to marry beauty and
having a strange streak of romanticism he asked Sostratus for the hand
of the beautiful Leucippe although he had never seen her. Rejected by
Sostratus as a suitor because of his bad reputation he plotted vengeance
in his willful and violent way. He journeyed to Tyre, saw Calligone at a
festival, mistook her for Leucippe, fell in love at first sight, hired
some gangsters to kidnap her and sailed off with his prize. [159]
Callisthenes does not reappear until in the end of Book VIII Sostratus
tells the story of his reform. [160] On the voyage Callisthenes found
himself madly in love with Calligone, revealed to her that he was no
pirate but a wealthy Byzantine noble, offered her honorable marriage and
a large dowry, and promised to respect her chastity as long as she
desired. At Byzantium, love transformed him so that he appeared
courteous, virtuous, self-controlled. He showed great respect for his
elders. He was no longer extravagant, but became philanthropic. He gave
large contributions to the state. He trained for military service and
won distinction in actual warfare. In this changed guise he secured
Sostratus as an advocate to persuade Hippias to give him the hand of
Calligone, whose chastity he had scrupulously respected. Eros thus
salvaged Callisthenes and then rewarded him.
Melitte the widow of Ephesus is the most elaborately drawn character in
the romance. There is even a long personal description of her: she is as
beautiful as a statue with skin like milk, cheeks roses, hair thick,
long, golden, and about her the radiance of Aphrodite. Clitophon admits
he saw her with pleasure. Indeed she is so magnetic that the kisses she
was pleased to bestow on him stirred him. [161] She knew what she wanted
and how to get it. During four months she had to woo Clitophon though
she was rich and young and her husband has been lost at sea. Finally
since Clitophon was convinced that Leucippe was really dead, he yielded
and agreed to marry her, though on condition that they should not be
united until they arrived at Ephesus. She was as passionate as Clitophon
was cold. On the ship she made ardent love to him while he begged her to
philosophize on love’s nature. After Clitophon secretly received
Leucippe’s letter, he had to pretend illness to postpone the fulfillment
of her desires. Then Melitte sent for her so-called Thessalian slave
Lacaena (really Leucippe) and begged her to concoct a philtre that would
arouse Clitophon’s feeling. She is very outspoken about the fact that
Clitophon seems made of iron or wood; that indeed she seemed to love a
statue. [162] And she had the ability to express to Clitophon every
feeling she had without inhibition and in most picturesque language. At
her wedding breakfast in Alexandria she punned merrily about the
postponement of their union. “I’ve heard of a cenotaph but never before
of a cenogam. ”[163] The bellying sail on the ship she compared to a
pregnant woman’s body; indeed she converted the whole ship into symbols
of marriage. [164] She also compared herself to thirsty Tantalus standing
by a river but not allowed to drink. She could match Clitophon’s
arguments and his quibbles did not deceive her: “You are playing the
sophist, dearest! ” she commented. When from the discovery of Leucippe’s
letter to Clitophon and her husband’s safe return she knew that she had
lost Clitophon, she visited him secretly in prison and poured out on him
all her wrath and all her passion. Her denunciation of him as eunuch,
hermaphrodite, senile nonentity shifted to adoration; and passion
finally concentrated into so ardent and well argued an appeal for one
embrace that she was victorious. Clitophon admitted ironically that love
had taught her rhetoric and that he was vanquished, so he gave the
remedy to a sick soul and even on the prison floor enjoyed her! [165]
Melitte was no less subtle and plausible in the speech in which she made
her peace with her enraged husband Thersander: Clitophon was only one of
many refugees whom she aided in memory of her husband lost at sea;
indeed she had helped Clitophon to find his wife. [166] When Thersander
challenged her by the ordeal of the water of the Styx, Melitte at once
accepted the test on a quibble because her husband had demanded from her
an oath that she had not fulfilled the rites of Aphrodite with the
stranger _during the time while he himself was abroad_. And it was just
that unfortunate stipulation which makes her last appearance in the
romance unforgettable. She is led out of the water of the Styx by the
judge, proved by indisputable ordeal a chaste woman! Achilles Tatius has
won his readers by this time to rejoice in Melitte’s vindication. For
besides charm and cleverness he has given her humanity and generosity.
She was always merciful to her slaves and was kindness itself to
Lacaena-Leucippe. [167] After she had won her desire, she contrived the
escape of Clitophon from prison dressed in her clothes, and financed by
her. She did not even forget the jailer, but gave him money to go away
for a time to avoid punishment. [168] Clitophon omitted in his final
narrative of his adventures his succumbing to Melitte[169] but he had
the grace to admit to himself her charms.
It is clear that in the ethics of the romance there is a new point of
view. Achilles Tatius is definitely less idealistic than Chariton in his
treatment of the erotic theme. As Rattenbury has pointed out:
“Achilles Tatius seems to have felt that the fetish of chastity in the
average romance was absurd, and tries to humanize romance by creating
characters that are reasonably, not unreasonably, moral. . . . Leucippe
comes through safe and sound, it is true, but it was by good luck rather
than by good intention. ” Clitophon is chaste as far as men can be and
succumbs to Melitte only once. “Achilles Tatius,” continues Rattenbury,
“did not exactly parody his predecessors, but it is suggested that by
attempting to humanize romance he not only showed up the absurdities of
the usual stories, but was also responsible for the overthrow of the
literary form. . . . Achilles Tatius seems to have been to Greek Romance
what Euripides was to Greek Tragedy. He broke down the conventions, and
drove the essential and permanent elements to seek refuge elsewhere. The
erotic element did not die, but found an outlet in ‘Love-Letters,’ a
contemporary literary form of which Aristaenetus was an exponent in the
fifth century, but the idealized love story of a superhumanly modest
hero and heroine vanished, and Greek Romance hibernated until it was
revived some centuries later by the Byzantine writers. ”[170]
Not inconsistent with Tatius’ slightly ironic treatment of amours is his
emphasis on the virtue of pity and his tendency to introduce long
philosophical discussions of conduct or the nature of love. Clitophon’s
story moves an Egyptian general to pity, tears and aid, for
“When a man hears of another’s misfortune, he is inclined towards
pity, and pity is often the introduction to friendship; the heart is
softened by grief for what it hears, and gradually feeling the same
emotions at the mournful story converts its commiseration into
friendship and the grief into pity. ”[171]
In the midst of Thersander’s attempt to rape the weeping Leucippe, there
is a long digression on tears and the pity they arouse. [172] Clinias
appeals to the court not to put to death “a man who deserves pity rather
than punishment. ”[173] Leucippe, disguised as a slave, begs Melitte as a
woman to pity a woman and to pity one once free, now through Fortune’s
will a slave. [174]
Tatius has presented also in Callisthenes a picture of a noble young
hero who was converted from the wildness of youth to self-control,
respect, patriotism and service by chivalrous love. [175] And this
portrait of Callisthenes becomes an embodiment of an ideal latent in the
philosophical discussions of love which flavor the romance. “Love,” says
Clitophon, “inspired by beauty enters the heart through the eyes. ”[176]
Later Clinias tells Clitophon that he is greatly fortunate in being able
to see his lady, for when eyes of lovers meet, the emanations of their
beauty wed in a spiritual union that transcends bodily embrace. [177]
Clitophon, wooing Leucippe in a fair garden, discourses to her on the
power of love over birds, creeping things, plants, even iron which
responds to the magnet, over water (for Arethusa and Alpheus wed). [178]
To cheer up Menelaus and Clinias on ship-board and divert them from
their sorrows, Clitophon starts a philosophic discussion on love of
women compared with love of men, untranslatable in its openness. [179]
Menelaus takes up the cudgels for the love of men, probably much to
Clinias’ satisfaction for he had previously denounced to his dear
Charicles the love of women who, if they love, kill and had arraigned
for his indictment Eriphyle, Philomela, Sthenoboea, Chryseis, Briseis,
Candaules’ wife, Helen, Penelope, Phaedra, Clytemnestra! [180]
The worship of the kiss is featured in an enchanting story of a magic
charm breathed on the lover’s lips[181] and a fantastic assertion that
if a maiden’s kiss is stolen, the maid is raped. [182] Moreover a code of
love is presented, almost as detailed as Ovid’s _Ars Amatoria_, in
instructions given by Clinias to Clitophon,[183] by the slave Satyrus to
Clitophon,[184] by Clitophon in discussion with Menelaus. [185] A
delightful part of this Art of Love is telling the Lady love-stories,
for all womankind is fond of myths. [186] Magic too plays its part in the
technique of love, for incantation works a charm for a lover;[187]
philtres may bewitch the indifferent;[188] and ordeals test
chastity. [189]
Closely akin to the philosophical discussions of love, its power, its
art, its magic is the worship of Aphrodite, the mother of Eros. Yet
there are few references to her cult. Her dominance is hinted:
initiation into love makes Aphrodite the most powerful of gods. [190]
Melitte wishes to have her nuptials on the sea, for Aphrodite is the
sea’s daughter and she wishes to propitiate her as the goddess of
marriage by thus honoring the sea, her mother. [191] Clitophon at the end
of his separation from Leucippe prays to Lady Aphrodite to forgive the
long delay in their union, for it was due to no insult to her and he
begs her blessing on their marriage. [192] The story of the ordeal by the
water of the Styx[193] is a merry tale of rivalry between Artemis and
Aphrodite for a young girl’s worship in which Aphrodite made young
Rhodopis break her oath of chastity but Artemis changed her into a
spring in the very cave where she lost her virginity. Yet Achilles
Tatius presents no such deep-seated reverence for the goddess of Love as
that which permeates Chariton’s romance.
Artemis of Ephesus is rather the deity who dominates Tatius’ story. She
appears in dreams to the heroine and to Leucippe’s father.
[194] In her
name Leucippe rebukes Thersander for insulting a virgin in the city of
the Virgin Goddess. [195] Sostratus arrives at Ephesus as the head of a
sacred embassy in honor of Artemis and so finds his daughter. [196]
Leucippe has taken refuge in the temple of Artemis and in that temple at
last she and Clitophon are reunited. [197] Here the villain of the piece
Thersander brutally attacks Clitophon. [198] Thersander’s lawyer in court
makes insulting slanders about the fact that Clitophon and Leucippe
probably defiled the temple by an amour there. [199] But Artemis is
proved to be no liar, and there is implicit recognition of her
protection of Leucippe though Achilles Tatius does not end with
thanksgiving to her. Her cult forms an objective background of religious
tradition for the action. No deep religious feeling for her is
manifested.
There is no more aspiration to god in the other cults which are
mentioned incidentally: of Apollo, Hercules of Tyre, the god of the
lower world, Pan. And the cruel goddess Fortune is berated only
occasionally. Superstition recognizes omens in the world of nature: the
eagle stealing the sacrifice, the hawk pursuing the swallow. [200]
Oracles are respected. [201] And the ordeals of Pan’s pipes and the
Styx’s water receive general credence. Festivals to the gods are
celebrated. [202] But religion seems rather a matter of scrupulous regard
for ritual than communion with god or relief to the soul.
As we compare the romances of Chariton and Achilles Tatius we find that
not only has the main interest shifted from love and worship to
incidents and adventures. An even greater change has come about in the
style. Homeric simplicity has given way to rhetorical elaboration.
Tatius may well have been a ῥήτωρ as the scholiast Thomas Magister
states, for his whole style is dyed in the rhetoric of the schools and
the speeches delivered in the various lawsuits in the plot are
masterpieces of rhetoric.
Among his acknowledged literary debts, however, he credits most to epic,
for he quotes Homer once[203] and alludes to him five times[204] and he
refers to Hesiod twice. [205] The messenger speeches in tragedy
undoubtedly suggested the slave’s dramatic narrative of the death of
Charicles in a riding accident. [206] Both the New and the Old Attic
Comedy contributed much to his humor: the New in the comic literary
contest of the slaves Conops and Satyrus who deride each other under
cover of fables;[207] and the Old in the Aristophanic priest of Artemis
who “was no poor hand at speaking, and as good at quip and gibe as the
plays of Aristophanes. ”[208] But the training of the rhetorical schools
outweighs all other influences. About half of Books VII and VIII is
devoted to the trial of Clitophon for adultery and self-confessed
murder. The court sits in Ephesus with a jury and a presiding judge, but
their functions are vague. The prosecution speaks first, Thersander and
his ten lawyers, whose speeches fortunately are not reported. Clitophon
answers them by a false narrative accusing himself of the murder of
Leucippe and involving Melitte. Clinias gets the floor and tells the
true story: that Clitophon desires only to die, that he deserves pity
rather than condemnation and must be regarded as insane.
In the wild confusion that follows, Thersander’s counsel shouts for a
sentence of murder, Melitte offers her slaves to be questioned on her
innocence and demands that her husband produce Sosthenes who is probably
the murderer. Thersander in a long speech answers Melitte’s challenge
about Sosthenes with the result that the presiding officer pronounces
sentence of death on Clitophon but postpones Melitte’s case. Clitophon
is just on the point of being tortured for evidence when the arrival of
a sacred embassy to Artemis postpones the case of Melitte and the
execution of Clitophon.
Only after the work of the embassy is finished is the case resumed. Then
Thersander speaks first, demanding the execution of the sentence. He
condemns the priest who has released Clitophon and says he has usurped
the function of giving refuge to criminals which belongs to Artemis. He
adds foul personal abuse. He presents a second charge against Melitte
for adultery and a third against his slave girl Leucippe and her father.
The priest in his reply deserves the epithet “Aristophanic” which he has
won, for he pays Thersander back in his own coin of abuse only clothing
it in the wit of Aristophanes with all his double-meaning of words, his
biting attack. And his own arguments point the irony of the situation:
Thersander clapped Clitophon in jail before he was allowed to defend
himself. He charged him with murdering Leucippe but the young lady is
alive!
Sopater, counsel for Thersander, next hurls insulting invective at the
priest and whitewashes his noble client who has been betrayed by a
faithless wife. Thersander then presents a formal challenge to Melitte
and Leucippe to prove their chastity and on their acceptance of it, the
court adjourns. Next day all reassemble at the cave of Pan and the
spring of the Styx. The ladies are proved innocent. Thersander flees and
then is sentenced to banishment. Clitophon—and Melitte—are acquitted.
This summary of the procedure of the court in Ephesus shows what
opportunity Achilles Tatius made for presenting the rhetorical speeches
which he cherished. They are many. They are full of specious argument,
personal attack, appeal to the emotions, attempted pathos which becomes
bathos and genuine ἦθος. The speakers are true to type: the impassioned
lover, the leal friend, the haughty, imperious, lustful noble, his
sophistical lawyer, the Aristophanic priest. Such agonistic scenes must
have entertained the reader of the time as much as they did the author.
Actually this same favorite rhetorical style is also assigned to the
characters in private life: Melitte in her impassioned speech to
Clitophon in prison talks like a sophist, for Eros teaches even
arguments! [209]
Long mythological narratives are another feature of Tatius’ style. The
sight of a painting makes it necessary for him to relate the whole story
of Procne and Philomela to Leucippe. [210] The stories of the origins of
the two ordeals to prove chastity are told with equal detail. The
discovery of wine is elaborately related in the Tyrian version on the
occasion of the festival of Dionysus. [211] These are a few out of many
illustrations.
Descriptive writing is employed as much as, perhaps more than, forensic
or narrative. Indeed the purple patches almost overbalance plot,
conversation and oratory. Works of art, setting for scenes, natural
phenomena, the wonders of the world are introduced in highly colored
digressions which are clearly the ekphraseis which the students of
rhetoric were taught to compose and deliver.
Achilles Tatius apparently was enamored of wall-paintings. He describes
with gusto five and alludes to another. The subjects of all are myths.
Two are familiar types in the frescoes found at Pompeii: Perseus and
Andromeda, Achilles in women’s clothes among the daughters of King
Lycomedes. One description of a painting opens the romance, a votive
painting of Europa in the temple of Astarte at Sidon. [212] Sidon is the
first word of the novel and this story is introduced as a tribute to the
city where the first scene was laid, for the stemma on the coins of
Sidon is Europa on the bull, pictured almost as Tatius presents her. The
picture is described in vivid detail even to the flowers in the meadow
and the shifting colors of the sea. Posture and garb of Europa are
vividly sketched in words for he sees her “seated on the bull like a
vessel under way, using the veil as a sail. ” The keynote of the picture
and the point of its application for Tatius is the little flying Eros
who leads the bull and laughs back at the transformed Zeus. “Look,” said
Clitophon, “how that imp dominates over land and sea. ” A young man
standing by exclaims that he too has suffered much from love. These
exclamations are the point of departure for the recounting of love
adventures.
In Book III there is an equally long description of a painting by
Evanthes in the temple of Zeus Casius. [213] The subjects are Andromeda
and Prometheus and they seem to have been paired because both were
chained to rocks, menaced by beasts and rescued by Argive heroes,
Perseus and Hercules. Design, color, emotion are all described vividly
and charmingly, but there is no point in the introduction of the
paintings. The description of them is simply a purple patch of fine
writing.
In Book V the description of a painting in a studio depicting the rape
of Philomela had “a hidden significance. ”[214] The whole story was
represented: “the rape of Philomela, the violence employed by Tereus,
and the cutting out of her tongue . . . the tapestry, Tereus himself, and
the fatal table. ” Ugly realism, terror, insane laughter characterize the
treatment. The hidden meaning is that the sudden sight of the picture is
a bad omen threatening disaster which makes Clitophon postpone his
journey to Pharos. The delay gives him a chance to tell the whole story
of Philomela to Leucippe, for all women love myths.
Small works of art also are described lovingly and minutely: a
rock-crystal goblet carved in a grape-vine,[215] a jewelled
necklace. [216] These enrich the setting as scattered flowers enrich the
backgrounds of Renaissance tapestries. It is as though Achilles Tatius
like Corinthian potters or Renaissance artists had such an _horror
vacui_ that empty spaces in design were intolerable and interstices had
to be crowded with beautiful small objects. This is due in part to an
observant eye that saw and recorded detail. The specific and the graphic
are his tools for clarity. The story of the attempted amour of Clitophon
and Leucippe is vivified by a plan of the house as clear as the drawn
plans in many modern detective stories. [217] The garden in which
Clitophon’s love-making is once set is described elaborately with its
porticoes, trees, vines, flowers, spring and birds. [218] The storm at
sea in its violence and coloring is as lurid as a Turner, and its
effects on the shipwrecked passengers are described with a true
psychology of terror and panic. [219]
The long description of the storm is justified by the vital significance
of the shipwreck for the plot, but what of the write-ups of the wonders
of the world which are constantly introduced? The beautiful description
of Alexandria with its pharos is brief and pardonable as this was the
birthplace of the author. But only the love of novelty of the times and
bad taste seem to explain the perpetrations of wordy descriptions of the
Nile, the phoenix, the hippopotamus, the elephant and the
crocodile! [220] The romance at times tends to become a natural history.
Wolff becomes so out of patience with “the damnable iteration” of
irrelevancies in _Clitophon and Leucippe_ that he can hardly calm
himself to analyze them in suggestive groups: irrelevancies of plot, of
characterization, of setting, of science and pseudo-science. The only
justification for such irrelevancies Wolff finds in “a common basis with
paradox. Both defeat expectation. . . . In both its phases,—irrelevancy and
paradox—this element of _the unexpected_, prominent in the form as in
the matter of the Greek Romances, deserves attention. To turn aside to
the irrelevant; to strain suspense by retarding the expected outcome; to
introduce by the way—all unlooked for—as many bizarre, ironical,
paradoxical situations and dazzling phrases as possible; and finally to
‘spring’ an issue which is itself a surprising combination of
opposites—all these would seem to be consistent results of adopting the
unexpected as the principle of the genre. ”[221]
After all this is said in criticism of Achilles Tatius’ exuberant style
and unlimited digressions, we go back to his fundamentals: a clear plot,
living human beings, vivid settings for them, and exciting adventures.
Achilles Tatius knew his age and for its disillusions he wrote with
ironic tolerance of human frailty and for its weariness he emphasized
the excitement of adventure and the stimulus of the unexpected. To me
his successes chalk up to a longer list than his failures and I end with
Phillimore:
“What a strange thought—that an Alexandrian with the names of Achilles
Tatius (what a pair! ), atticizing _con furore_ in the reign of
Diocletian, should write a story which delighted the Byzantine Middle
Ages and can still be read with interest and amusement! ”[222]
VI
THE LESBIAN PASTORALS OF DAPHNIS AND CHLOE
_BY LONGUS_
The very title of Longus’ romance shows a new departure. These Lesbian
Pastorals in four books form the only pastoral romance in Greek that is
extant. Compared with the other romances that of Longus is unique in
type, characters, setting and structure. Theocritus is the pervading
influence. Most of the leading characters are not nobles but serfs. Even
the young hero and heroine are brought up as shepherds until at the end
they are recognized as children of the great. City life plays little
part in the plot. The changing seasons make the set. Only a few
adventures disturb the serenity of the hills and pasturelands: an onset
of pirates, a local war and (of course! ) the usual kidnappings. Country
gods are worshipped. The music of Pan’s pipes is the accompaniment of
the story.
Of the author we know nothing. Longus “is not mentioned by any other
writer before the Byzantine age, and himself mentions no historical name
or event. ”[223] From internal evidence of his novel we see that he knew
Mytilene well; he was familiar with Greek and Roman literature and with
works of art; he had received a sophist’s training in the rhetorical
schools. He wrote probably in the second century A. D. , before Achilles
Tatius.
The early editions and translations show why Longus was so influential
in Elizabethan England and indeed in the modern European literatures.
The first edition of the Greek text was published by the Junta Press in
Florence in 1598, but before that the romance had received its first
printing in Amyot’s French translation in 1559 and in the first English
translation by Angell Daye in 1587. This “earliest English version”
which was dedicated to Queen Elizabeth was more of an adaptation than a
translation. Its title-page demands perusal:
“Daphnis and Chloe excellently describing the weight of affection, the
simplicitie of love, the purport of honest meaning, the resolution of
men, and disposition of Fate, finished in a Pastorall, and interlaced
with the praises of a most peerlesse Princesse, wonderfull in
Maiestie, and rare in perfection, celebrated within the same
Pastorall, and therefore termed by the name of The Shepheards
Holidaie. By Angell Daye. Altior fortuna virtus. ”
The title-page of the 1657 translation by “Geo. Thornley, Gent. ” was
dubbed “Daphnis and Chloe a most sweet and pleasant pastoral romance for
young ladies” and it too bore a Latin motto: “Humili casa nihil
antiquius nihil nobilius. —Sen. Philos. ”
It is this delightful old translation which J. M. Edmonds “revised and
augmented” in his version for _The Loeb Classical Library_ and in his
introduction there Edmonds says that this seems to have been George
Thornley’s only publication. He was a sizar in Christ’s College and
received his Bachelor in Arts from the University of Cambridge. It is
this translation of Edmonds-Thornley which I shall use in my quotations.
Longus wrote a Prooimion to his romance which reveals the occasion and
the purpose of his writing. While hunting in Lesbos he saw in a fair
grove of the Nymphs a painted picture which told a tale of ancient love.
“There were figured in it young women, in the posture, some of
teeming, others of swaddling, little children; babes exposed, and ewes
giving them suck; shepherds taking up foundlings, young persons
plighting their troth; an incursion of thieves, an inroad of armed
men. ”
And on studying the painting Longus says:
“I had a mighty instigation to write something as to answer that
picture. And therefore, when I had carefully sought and found an
interpreter of the image, I drew up these four books, an oblation to
Love and to Pan and to the Nymphs, and a delightful possession even
for all men. For this will cure him that is sick, and rouse him that
is in dumps; one that has loved, it will remember of it; one that has
not, it will instruct. For there was never any yet that wholly could
escape love, and never shall there be any, never so long as beauty
shall be, never so long as eyes can see. But help me that God to write
the passions of others; and while I write, keep me in my own right
wits. ”
With this delightful prayer, our humorous nympholept Longus begins his
story. We must now outline briefly his four books of Pastorals.
The characters are:
_Daphnis_, a young goatherd
_Lamo_, foster-father of Daphnis
_Myrtale_, foster-mother of Daphnis
_Chloe_, a young shepherdess
_Dryas_, foster-father of Chloe
_Nape_, foster-mother of Chloe
_Dorco_, an oxherd
_Philetas_, an aged shepherd and a famous piper
_Lycaenium_, a city chit married to a swain
_Dionysophanes_, lord of the manor
_Clearista_, his wife
_Astylus_, his son
_Gnatho_, a parasite of Astylus
_Lampis_, a herdsman
Tyrian pirates
Young nobles of Methymna
In Lesbos near Mytilene there was a great estate of a great noble. On it
once strange things happened for a goatherd Lamo found a fine baby boy
being nursed by a she-goat. Purple was his cloak and near him was a
little golden sword with an ivory handle. Lamo and his wife Myrtale
reared the child and named him Daphnis. Two years later another shepherd
Dryas found in a cave sacred to the nymphs and carved with pictures of
them a baby girl being nursed by a sheep. And beside her were little
possessions, a girdle embroidered in gold, gilded shoes, golden anklets.
Dryas and his wife reared the child and named her Chloe. These are our
hero and heroine.
Now when Daphnis was fifteen and Chloe thirteen, one night both Lamo and
Dryas had the same dream. The nymphs of the cave appeared and gave
Daphnis and Chloe to a certain little winged boy with bow and arrow who
touched them with an arrow and ordered that Daphnis tend a flock of
goats and Chloe a flock of sheep. Their parents were disappointed that
they too were to become herdsmen, for they had given the children a good
education, but they offered sacrifice in the cave to the Boy and obeyed.
The year was at the spring. Birds were singing, lambs gamboling, flowers
blooming. The children too sang and danced together and made garlands of
flowers for the Nymphs. All their joy and work they shared. But into
this paradise came danger. Trap-ditches had been set to catch a
marauding wolf and into one, as he pursued a he-goat, fell Daphnis. He
was drawn up all bloody and must needs wash in the cave of the Nymphs.
Chloe as she washed his back thought she had never seen any-one so fair
or touched anything so soft. Love began here though she knew it not.
Another danger menaced. Dorco an oxherd who had helped draw Daphnis from
the pit fell in love with Chloe (he was a full-grown lad) and when he
could not get her by gifts, he and Daphnis held a contest of words for
beauty and Chloe was umpire. When their speeches were finished, Chloe at
once gave to Daphnis her prize—a kiss—and that kiss made Daphnis fall in
love though he did not know what love was.
Defeated Dorco next appealed to Dryas for Chloe as a wife, but Dryas
rejected him. Then he tried a base trick. He dressed up in a wolf-skin
and hid near the spring where the beasts watered, hoping to meet Chloe
alone there. This he did, but the sheep-dogs caught him first and would
have killed him had not Chloe and Daphnis saved him. They thought
Dorco’s disguise was only a game, for they never dreamed of rape in
their innocence.
So through spring and summer Daphnis and Chloe tended their flocks and
played the pipes together. But in the autumn Tyrian pirates descended on
the shore to raven. They wounded Dorco and stole his cows and kidnapped
Daphnis. Dorco dying gave his pipe to Chloe for one kiss at last and
bade her pipe his cows off the ship. And the cows on hearing the call of
the pipe jumped overboard and swam ashore with Daphnis charioted between
two holding to their horns. The boat was upset and the pirates who were
all in armor drowned. Daphnis and Chloe went to poor Dorco’s funeral.
They dedicated his pipe to the Nymphs. They cheered their flocks who lay
mourning for Daphnis on the hills. And all went on as before except that
Daphnis’ heart ached,—why he did not know.
Now (in Book II) came the time of vintage. These charming children
helped pick the grapes, tread the wine-press, fill the vats with the new
wine. That work done, back to their flocks went Daphnis and Chloe. There
old Philetas met them and sitting down told them a bright story of how
Eros had appeared to him in his garden, a little winged boy flitting
birdlike from tree to tree. And Philetas tried to teach the children who
Eros was and what was his power, for Philetas had loved Amaryllis in his
youth. But though Philetas as a wise _praeceptor amoris_ instructed them
thus: “There is no medicine for love, neither meat, nor drink, nor any
charm, but only kissing and embracing and lying side by side,” the
children did not understand his teaching and played this game of love
without fulfillment. And as they exchanged childish kisses, disaster
again broke upon them.
Some young nobles of Methymna put in at the shore in a gallant boat to
make holiday, fishing and hunting with their dogs. When a country fellow
stole the rope that tied up their ship, they carelessly made another of
green withes. Then their dogs while hunting frightened Daphnis’ goats
and drove them down to the shore and some finding no other fodder ate up
the green cable. At that a strong wind off shore blew the boat out to
sea to the great rage of the young Methymnaean owners. They beat up
Daphnis in a fight with the peasants in which they too were wounded and
prosecuted him in court, but Philetas was the presiding judge and
acquitted the goatherd of any wrong.
