[1]Compare the description of the Grotto of the Nymphs in Ithaca. Odys. B. xiii.——"A pleasant caveUmbrageous, to the Nymphs devoted, nam'dThe Naiads—Beakers in that cave and jarsOf stone are found; bees lodge their honey there;And there on slender spindles of the rockThe nymphs of rivers weave their wondrous robes,Perennial springs rise in it."—Cowper.
[1]Compare the description of the Grotto of the Nymphs in Ithaca. Odys. B. xiii.
——"A pleasant caveUmbrageous, to the Nymphs devoted, nam'dThe Naiads—Beakers in that cave and jarsOf stone are found; bees lodge their honey there;And there on slender spindles of the rockThe nymphs of rivers weave their wondrous robes,Perennial springs rise in it."—Cowper.
[2]Kένταυρoς ζαμενής,ἀγᾶνᾳ χλαρὸν γελάσσαις ὀφρύῖ.—Pindar.
[2]
Kένταυρoς ζαμενής,ἀγᾶνᾳ χλαρὸν γελάσσαις ὀφρύῖ.—Pindar.
[3]ἡ ὧα—rendered by the Latin translation, "fastigium;" by the Italian, "giro;" by the French, "voûte"—is not to be found, in that sense, in Liddell and Scott's Lexicon.
[3]ἡ ὧα—rendered by the Latin translation, "fastigium;" by the Italian, "giro;" by the French, "voûte"—is not to be found, in that sense, in Liddell and Scott's Lexicon.
[4]Theoc. Idyll, xx. 28. enumerates these instruments:—Άδὺ δέ μοι τὸ μέλισμα, καὶ ἢv σύριγγι μελίσδω,Κἤν αὐλῶ λαλεώ, κἢν δώνακι, κἢν πλαγιαύλῳ—The πλαγίαύλος resembled the German flute.
[4]Theoc. Idyll, xx. 28. enumerates these instruments:—
Άδὺ δέ μοι τὸ μέλισμα, καὶ ἢv σύριγγι μελίσδω,Κἤν αὐλῶ λαλεώ, κἢν δώνακι, κἢν πλαγιαύλῳ—
The πλαγίαύλος resembled the German flute.
[5]The περισκέλις (in Latin, Periscelis—see Hor. Epist. 1. xvii. 56,) was an anklet or bangle, commonly worn not only by the Orientals, the Egyptians, and the Greeks, but by the Roman ladies also. It is frequently represented in the paintings of Greek figures on the walls of Pompeii.—Dict. of Greek and Rom. Antiq.
[5]The περισκέλις (in Latin, Periscelis—see Hor. Epist. 1. xvii. 56,) was an anklet or bangle, commonly worn not only by the Orientals, the Egyptians, and the Greeks, but by the Roman ladies also. It is frequently represented in the paintings of Greek figures on the walls of Pompeii.—Dict. of Greek and Rom. Antiq.
[6]See Theoc. Idyl. 1. 52.—"Αὐτὰρ ὃy' ανθερίκίσσι καλάν πλέκει ἀκριδοθήκαv."
[6]See Theoc. Idyl. 1. 52.—
"Αὐτὰρ ὃy' ανθερίκίσσι καλάν πλέκει ἀκριδοθήκαv."
[7]σπουδὴν ἀνέπλaσε.
[7]σπουδὴν ἀνέπλaσε.
[8]ἐδίωκε τὸν διῶκοντα.
[8]ἐδίωκε τὸν διῶκοντα.
[9]ταινιάν—either a head-band or breast-band.
[9]ταινιάν—either a head-band or breast-band.
[10]What now follows, as far as the soliloquy on Chloe's kiss, is a translation of the fragment discovered by M. Courier, in the Laurentian Library at Florence, in 1809, which supplies the hiatus deflendus which till then interrupted the narrative.
[10]What now follows, as far as the soliloquy on Chloe's kiss, is a translation of the fragment discovered by M. Courier, in the Laurentian Library at Florence, in 1809, which supplies the hiatus deflendus which till then interrupted the narrative.
[11]——"οῖστροπληξ δ' ἐγὼμάστιγι θείᾳ γῆν πρὸ γῆς ελαύνομαι."Æsch. P. V. 681. See also Virg. G. iii. 145-151.
[11]
——"οῖστροπληξ δ' ἐγὼμάστιγι θείᾳ γῆν πρὸ γῆς ελαύνομαι."Æsch. P. V. 681. See also Virg. G. iii. 145-151.
[12]So, Theocritus—"Σύριγγ' ἔχω εννεάφωνον." Idyl. viii. 21.The shepherd's pipe was in general composed of seven unequal reeds compacted with wax, and consequently was only seven-toned."Est mihi disparibusseptemcompacta cicutisFistula."—Virg. Ec. ii. 36.
[12]So, Theocritus—"Σύριγγ' ἔχω εννεάφωνον." Idyl. viii. 21.
The shepherd's pipe was in general composed of seven unequal reeds compacted with wax, and consequently was only seven-toned.
"Est mihi disparibusseptemcompacta cicutisFistula."—Virg. Ec. ii. 36.
[13]"Parta meæ Veneri sunt præmia; namque notavi, Ipse locum aëriæ quo congessere palumbes." Virg. Ec. "I have found out a gift for my fair, I have found where the wood-pigeons breed." Shenstone.
[13]"Parta meæ Veneri sunt præmia; namque notavi, Ipse locum aëriæ quo congessere palumbes." Virg. Ec. "I have found out a gift for my fair, I have found where the wood-pigeons breed." Shenstone.
[14]ἔχαιρε—ἔχαιρεν.
[14]ἔχαιρε—ἔχαιρεν.
[15]oὐδὲν ἔριφων διαφέρει.
[15]oὐδὲν ἔριφων διαφέρει.
[16]ἄρτoς ὀβελίας—Bread baked or toasted on a spit.
[16]ἄρτoς ὀβελίας—Bread baked or toasted on a spit.
[17]"Alba ligustra cadunt, vaccinia nigra leguntur."Virg. Ec. ii. 18.
[17]
"Alba ligustra cadunt, vaccinia nigra leguntur."Virg. Ec. ii. 18.
[18]No doubt she took him by the tips of his ears. This mode of salutation was called χύτρα, the pot-kiss, (alluding to the double handles of a pot.) In after times it took the name of the Florentine kiss. "Warton quotes an old gentleman, who says, that when disposed to kiss his wife with unusual tenderness, he always gave her the Florentine kiss.—Chapman's Theocritus."Όὐκ ἕραμ' Άλκίππας, ὃτι με πράν ὀυκ ἐφιλασενΤῶν ὤτων καθελοῖσ'."—Idyl. v. 135.
[18]No doubt she took him by the tips of his ears. This mode of salutation was called χύτρα, the pot-kiss, (alluding to the double handles of a pot.) In after times it took the name of the Florentine kiss. "Warton quotes an old gentleman, who says, that when disposed to kiss his wife with unusual tenderness, he always gave her the Florentine kiss.—Chapman's Theocritus."
Όὐκ ἕραμ' Άλκίππας, ὃτι με πράν ὀυκ ἐφιλασενΤῶν ὤτων καθελοῖσ'."—Idyl. v. 135.
[19]διαυγεῖς. Another reading is,—καθάπερ βοὸς,—equivalent to the βoῶπις of Homer. Sappho uses the same comparison.
[19]διαυγεῖς. Another reading is,—καθάπερ βοὸς,—equivalent to the βoῶπις of Homer. Sappho uses the same comparison.
[20]"But love first learned in a lady's eyes,Lives not alone immured in the brain.. . . . . .It adds a preciousseeing to the eye."—Shaks.
[20]
"But love first learned in a lady's eyes,Lives not alone immured in the brain.. . . . . .It adds a preciousseeing to the eye."—Shaks.
[21]"Αλλὰ καμμὲν γλῶσσ' ἔαγ', ἄν δἐ λεπτὸνΑὐτίκα χρῶ πῦρ ὺποδεδρόμακεν,Όμμάτεσσιν δ' σὐδὲν ὄρημι, βομβεῦσιν δ' ακοαί μοι·Καδ' δ' ἱδρὠς ψυχρὸς χεἐται τρόμος δὲΠᾶσαν αἱρεῖ· χρωροτέρη δὲ ποίαςΈμμί· τεθνᾶναι δ' ὀλίγου δἐοισαΦαίνομαι ἄπνους."—Sappho.
[21]
"Αλλὰ καμμὲν γλῶσσ' ἔαγ', ἄν δἐ λεπτὸνΑὐτίκα χρῶ πῦρ ὺποδεδρόμακεν,Όμμάτεσσιν δ' σὐδὲν ὄρημι, βομβεῦσιν δ' ακοαί μοι·Καδ' δ' ἱδρὠς ψυχρὸς χεἐται τρόμος δὲΠᾶσαν αἱρεῖ· χρωροτέρη δὲ ποίαςΈμμί· τεθνᾶναι δ' ὀλίγου δἐοισαΦαίνομαι ἄπνους."—Sappho.
[22]The reading in Courier's edition, μετά τυρίσκων τινῶν γενικῶν, has been here followed, instead of the common one, which yields no very clear sense—συρίγγων τινῶν γαμικῶν.
[22]The reading in Courier's edition, μετά τυρίσκων τινῶν γενικῶν, has been here followed, instead of the common one, which yields no very clear sense—συρίγγων τινῶν γαμικῶν.
[23]"Εσσατο δ' ἔκτοσθε' ῥινὸν πoλιθῖο λύκοιοΚρατὶ δ' ἔπι κτιδέην κυνέην."—Iliad, x. 334.From the example of Dorco, this became a favourite stratagem among pastoral characters. In the Pastor Fido (act iv. sc. 2) Dorinda disguises herself as a wolf, and the troubadour Vidal was hunted down in consequence of a similar experiment.—Dunlop.
[23]
"Εσσατο δ' ἔκτοσθε' ῥινὸν πoλιθῖο λύκοιοΚρατὶ δ' ἔπι κτιδέην κυνέην."—Iliad, x. 334.
From the example of Dorco, this became a favourite stratagem among pastoral characters. In the Pastor Fido (act iv. sc. 2) Dorinda disguises herself as a wolf, and the troubadour Vidal was hunted down in consequence of a similar experiment.—Dunlop.
[24]"odora canum vis."—Virg. Æn. iv. 132.
[24]"odora canum vis."—Virg. Æn. iv. 132.
[25]"Flush'd by the spirit of the genial year,Now from the virgin's cheeks, a fresher bloomShoots, less and less, the live carnation round;Her lips blush deeper sweets; she breathes of youth;The shining moisture swells into her eyesIn brighter flow; her wishing bosom heavesWith palpitation wild; kind tumults seizeHer veins, and all her yielding soul is love.From the keen gaze her lover turns awayFull of the dear ecstatic power, and sickWith sighing languishment."—Thomson.
[25]
"Flush'd by the spirit of the genial year,Now from the virgin's cheeks, a fresher bloomShoots, less and less, the live carnation round;Her lips blush deeper sweets; she breathes of youth;The shining moisture swells into her eyesIn brighter flow; her wishing bosom heavesWith palpitation wild; kind tumults seizeHer veins, and all her yielding soul is love.From the keen gaze her lover turns awayFull of the dear ecstatic power, and sickWith sighing languishment."—Thomson.
[26]"A noise like that of a hidden brookIn the leafy month of June,That to the sleeping woods all nightSingeth a quiet tune."—Coleridge.
[26]
"A noise like that of a hidden brookIn the leafy month of June,That to the sleeping woods all nightSingeth a quiet tune."—Coleridge.
[27]"Αδύ τι τὸ ψιθύρισμα, καὶ ἁ πίτυς αἰπόλε, τήνα,Ἃ ποτὶ ταῖς παγαῖσi μελίσδεται."—Theoc. Idyll. i. 1.
[27]
"Αδύ τι τὸ ψιθύρισμα, καὶ ἁ πίτυς αἰπόλε, τήνα,Ἃ ποτὶ ταῖς παγαῖσi μελίσδεται."—Theoc. Idyll. i. 1.
[28]A favourite amusement with lovers:—"Malo me Galatea petit, lasciva puella."—Virg. Ec. iii. 64."Βάλλει καὶ μάλοισι τὸν αἰπόλον ἁ Κλεαρίστα."Theoc. Idyl. v. 36.
[28]A favourite amusement with lovers:—
"Malo me Galatea petit, lasciva puella."—Virg. Ec. iii. 64.
"Βάλλει καὶ μάλοισι τὸν αἰπόλον ἁ Κλεαρίστα."Theoc. Idyl. v. 36.
[29]"Her cheeks so rare a white was on,No daisy makes comparison,(Who sees them is undone);For streaks of red are mingled there,Such as are on a Cath'rine pear,(The side that's next the sun)."—Suckling.
[29]
"Her cheeks so rare a white was on,No daisy makes comparison,(Who sees them is undone);For streaks of red are mingled there,Such as are on a Cath'rine pear,(The side that's next the sun)."—Suckling.
[30]Xenophon (Anab. iv. 8, 20), gives an account of the Greeks in their retreat eating new honey; they were for a time, he says, frantic, were seized with vomiting and purging, and were unable to stand upon their feet; some died from its effects.
[30]Xenophon (Anab. iv. 8, 20), gives an account of the Greeks in their retreat eating new honey; they were for a time, he says, frantic, were seized with vomiting and purging, and were unable to stand upon their feet; some died from its effects.
[31].... "PanPinea semiferi capitis velamina quassans."—Lucret. iv. 589.Pan fell in love with the nymph Pitys; his rival Boreas blew the nymph from a rock and killed her. Pan, unable to save, changed her into a pine tree—πίτυς.
[31]
.... "PanPinea semiferi capitis velamina quassans."—Lucret. iv. 589.
Pan fell in love with the nymph Pitys; his rival Boreas blew the nymph from a rock and killed her. Pan, unable to save, changed her into a pine tree—πίτυς.
[32]ἡμιoλία, a light vessel with one and a half banks of oars.
[32]ἡμιoλία, a light vessel with one and a half banks of oars.
[33]οἶνος ἀνθοσμίας, either fine old wine, or wine scented with the juices of flowers. See a note of Cookesley on Arist. Plut. 788; also a passage in Xen. Hell. vi. 11. 6.
[33]οἶνος ἀνθοσμίας, either fine old wine, or wine scented with the juices of flowers. See a note of Cookesley on Arist. Plut. 788; also a passage in Xen. Hell. vi. 11. 6.
[34]In the P. V. of Æschylus, l. 732, Prometheus tells Io;"Ἔσται δὲ θνητοΐς εἰσαεὶ λόγος μέγαςTῆς σῆς πορείας, Βόσπορος δ' ἐπώνυμοςΚεκλήσεται."The true etymology however is to be found in the signification of βοῦς and ἵππος—which in composition means size.
[34]In the P. V. of Æschylus, l. 732, Prometheus tells Io;
"Ἔσται δὲ θνητοΐς εἰσαεὶ λόγος μέγαςTῆς σῆς πορείας, Βόσπορος δ' ἐπώνυμοςΚεκλήσεται."
The true etymology however is to be found in the signification of βοῦς and ἵππος—which in composition means size.
[35]See ch. 2.
[35]See ch. 2.
[36]θρῆνος τῶν βοῶν ἐπὶ βουκόλῳ.Theocritus in Idyll, i. 74, represents the herds as mourning their master's death—"Πολλαί oι πὰρ ποσσί βόες, πολλοὶ δέ τε ταῦροι,Πολλαὶ δ' αὖ δαμάλαι καὶ πόρτιες ὠδύραντο—"
[36]θρῆνος τῶν βοῶν ἐπὶ βουκόλῳ.
Theocritus in Idyll, i. 74, represents the herds as mourning their master's death—
"Πολλαί oι πὰρ ποσσί βόες, πολλοὶ δέ τε ταῦροι,Πολλαὶ δ' αὖ δαμάλαι καὶ πόρτιες ὠδύραντο—"
[37]παρὰ τοῖς λησταὶς, ... τὸ ἔρωτος ληστήριον—
[37]παρὰ τοῖς λησταὶς, ... τὸ ἔρωτος ληστήριον—
It was now the middle of autumn:—the vintage[1]was at hand, and every one was busy in the fields. One[2]prepared the wine-presses, another cleansed the casks, and another twisted the osiers into baskets. Each had a separate employ—in providing short pruning hooks, to cut the grapes; or a heavy stone, to pound them; or dry vine branches, previously well bruised, to serve as torches, so that the must might be carried away at night.
Daphnis and Chloe neglected for a time their flocks and mutually assisted one another. He carried the clusters in baskets, threw them into the wine-presses, trod them, and drew off the wine into casks; she prepared their meals for the grape-gatherers, brought old wine for their drink, and plucked off the lowest bunches. Indeed, all the vines in Lesbos were of lowly growth, and instead of shooting upwards, or twining around trees, they spread their branches downwards, which trailed along, like ivy, so close to the ground, that even an infant might reach the fruit.
The women, who, according to the custom at this festival of Bacchus, and birth of the vine, were called from the neighbouring villages to lend their assistance, all cast their eyes upon Daphnis, and exclaimed that he was equal in beauty to Bacchus himself. One of the most forward of these wenches gave him a kiss, which inflamed Daphnis, but sadly grieved poor Chloe.
On the other hand, the men who were treading the wine-press indulged in all manner of jests about Chloe, they danced round her as furiously as so many Bacchanals round a Bacchante, and exclaimed that they would gladly become sheep to be fed by her hand. These compliments delighted Chloe, but tormented poor Daphnis.
Each of them wished the vintage over, that they might return to their usual haunts, and instead of this discordant din might hear the sound of their pipe, and the bleating of their sheep. In a few days the vines were stript,—the casks were filled,—there was no longer any need of more hands, they therefore drove their flocks to the plain. In the first place, with sincere delight they went to pay their adoration to the Nymphs, and carried vine-branches with clusters of grapes on them, as first-fruit offerings from the vintage. Indeed, they never had hitherto passed by the Grotto without some token of respect, but always saluted them as they passed by with their flocks to their morning pasture, and when they returned in the evening, they paid their adoration, and presented, as an offering, either a flower, or some fruit, or a green leaf, or a libation of milk. This piety, as we shall see, had in the end its due reward. At the time we speak of, like young hounds just let loose, they leaped about, they piped, they sang, and wrestled and played with their goats and sheep.
While thus sporting and enjoying themselves, an old man, clothed in a coarse coat of skin, with shoes of undressed leather on his feet, and with a wallet (which, by the by, was a very old one) at his back, came up, seated himself near them, and addressed them as follows:—
"I who now address you, my children, amPhiletas. I have often sung the praises of the Nymphs of yonder Grotto—I have often piped in honour of Pan, and have guided my numerous herd by the music of my voice. I come to acquaint you with what I have seen and heard. I have a garden[3]which I cultivate with my own hands, and in which I have always worked, since I became too old to tend my herds. In it is every production of the different seasons; in spring it abounds with roses, lilies, hyacinths, and either kind of violets; in summer with poppies, pears, and apples of every sort; and now in autumn, with grapes, figs, pomegranates, and green myrtles. A variety of birds fly into it every morning, some in search of food, and some to warble in the shade; for the over-arching boughs afford thick shade, and three fountains water the cool retreat. Were it not inclosed with a wall, it might be taken for a natural wood. As I entered it to-day, about noon, I espied a little boy under my pomegranates and myrtles, some of which he had gathered; and was holding them in his hands. His complexion was white as milk, his hair a bright yellow, and he shone as if he had just been bathing. He was naked and alone, and amused himself with plucking the fruit with as much freedom as if it had been his own garden. Apprehensive that in his wantonness he would commit more mischief and break my plants, I sprang forward to seize him, but the urchin lightly and easily escaped from me, sometimes running under rose-trees, and sometimes hiding himself like a young partridge under the poppies.
"I have frequently been fatigued with catching my sucking kids, or my new-dropt calves; but as to this mischievous creature, in perpetual motion, it was utterly impossible to lay hold of him. Old as I am I was soon weary with the pursuit; so, leaning on my staff for support, and keeping my eyes on him lest he should escape, I asked him to what neighbour he belonged, and what he meant by gathering what grew in another person's garden.
"He made no reply, but approaching very near me, smiled sweetly in my face, and pelted me with myrtle-berries, and (I know not how) so won upon me, that my anger was appeased. I intreated him to come close to me, and assured him that he need not be afraid, swearing by the myrtles, by the apples, and by the pomegranates of my garden, that I wished only to give him one kiss, for which he should ever afterwards have liberty to gather as much fruit, and to pluck as many flowers as he pleased.
"Upon hearing me thus address him, he burst into a merry laugh, and with a voice sweeter than that of the swallow or the nightingale, or of the swan when grown aged like myself, he replied: 'I grudge you not a kiss, Philetas, for I have more pleasure in being kissed, than you would have in growing young again; but consider whether the gift would suit your time of life; for, old as you are, one kiss would not satisfy you, nor prevent you from running after me, while if even a hawk, an eagle, or any other swifter bird, were to pursue me, it would pursue in vain. I am not the child which I appear to be; but I am older thanSaturn, ay, older thanTimehimself. I knew you well, Philetas, when you were in the flower of your youth, and when you tended your widely-scattered flock in yonder marsh. I was near you, when you sat beneath those beech-trees, and were wooing your Amaryllis: I was close to the maiden, but you could not discern me. I gave her to you, and some fine boys, who are now excellent husbandmen and herdsmen, are the pledges of your love. At this present time I am tending Daphnis and Chloe like a shepherd; and when I have brought them together in the morning, I retire to your garden: here I disport myself among your flowers and plants, and here I bathe in your fountain. Through me it is that your flowers and shrubs are so beauteous, for the waters, which have bathed me, refresh them. Look now, if any of your plants be broken down!—see, if any of your fruit be plucked!—examine whether the stalk of any flower be crushed—or the clearness of any one of your fountains be disturbed! and rejoice that you alone, in your old age, have had the privilege of beholding the boy who is now before you.' With these words he sprang like the youngling of a nightingale among the myrtles, and climbing from bough to bough, ascended through the foliage to the summit of the tree. I observed wings upon his shoulders, and between them a tiny bow and arrows; but in a moment I could neither see him nor them. Unless I have grown grey in vain, unless I have got into my dotage in growing old, you may rely on me, when I assure you, that you are consecrate toLOVE, and that you are under his peculiar care."
Daphnis and Choe were delighted, but they regarded what they had heard as an amusing story rather than a sober fact; and inquired of Philetas who and what thisLOVEcould be? whether he were a boy or a bird? and of what powers he was possessed? "My young friends," said Philetas, "he is a god, young, beautiful, and ever on the wing. He rejoices, therefore, in the company of youth, he is ever in search of beauty, and adds wings to the souls of those he favours.[4]He has power far beyond that of Jove himself. He commands the elements, he rules the stars, and even the gods themselves, who are otherwise his equals;[5]your power over your flocks is nothing compared to his. All these flowers are the works of love: these plants are effects produced by him. Through him these rivers flow, and these zephyrs breathe. I have seen a bull smitten by his power, who bellowed as though breeze-stung.[6]I have seen the goat enamoured of the female, and following her everywhere. I myself was once young, I felt his influence, I loved Amaryllis. I thought not of my food, I cared not for my drink; I could take no rest, for sleep was banished from my eyelids. My soul was sad—my heart beat quick—my limbs felt a deadly chill. Now I cried aloud, as if I had been beaten; now I was as silent as if I were dead; and now I plunged into the rivers, as if to extinguish the flame which consumed me. I invoked Pan to assist me, inasmuch as he had known what it was to love his Pitys. I poured forth praises to the Nymph Echo for repeating the name of my Amaryllis: in anger I broke my pipe because it could soothe my herds, but could not prevail over Amaryllis; for there is no mighty magic against love; no medicine, whether in food or drink: nothing, in short, save kisses[7]and embraces, and the closest union of the naked body."
Philetas, having given them this information, bade them farewell; but before permitting him to depart, they presented him with a cheese, and a kid with newly budding horns.
Daphnis and Chloe, left to themselves, mused in silence upon the name of Love, which they had now heard for the first time. Sorrow seemed to have stupified them, till at night, as they returned home, they began to compare their own sensations with what they had heard from Philetas.
"According to Philetas, lovers are sad—so are we; they neglect their calling—so do we; they cannot sleep—no more can we. A fire appears to burn within them—we feel this fire; they long for the sight of one another—we, too, are always wishing for the day to dawn. Our disorder must be love, and we have loved each other without being aware of it. If this be not love, and if we be not mutually lovers, why are we thus sad? why do we so eagerly seek each other? All that Philetas has told us is true. The boy, whom he saw in the garden, is the same who appeared to our parents in the dream, and commanded that we should follow the pastoral life. How is it possible to catch the urchin? He is little and will escape from us. At the same time, who can escape from him? He has wings, and will pursue us. We must away to the Nymphs and implore their assistance. And yet Pan could not assist Philetas when in love with Amaryllis. We must seek the remedies which the old man suggested—kisses and embraces, and lying naked upon the grass; we shall feel it very cold, but we will bear what Philetas has borne before us." Thus were their thoughts employed during the night. The next morning, after driving their flocks to pasture, they for the first time kissed each other upon meeting, and afterwards mutually embraced.
The third remedy they were afraid of; the lying naked upon the grass appeared too bold a step for a maiden, nay, even for a youthful goatherd. Again, therefore, they passed a sleepless night, calling to mind what they had done, regretting what they had omitted. "We kissed," said they, "and are none the better; we embraced, and have found no relief. This lying side by side must needs be the sole remedy for love; assuredly it will prove more efficacious than the kiss and the embrace." As might have been expected, their dreams were akin to their daily thoughts. In sleep they kissed and they embraced; in sleep they did that which they had omitted to do during the day. Next morning they rose more than ever inflamed with passion, and hissed[8]along their flocks, all the while in anticipation of the kiss. They came in sight of one another, their faces mutually beaming with delight. Again there was repeated the kiss and the embrace; the remaining remedy was still untried, Daphnis being unwilling to propose it, and Chloe feeling the like hesitation. Chance came to their aid. They were sitting beside each other upon the trunk of a tree: having once tasted the luxury of a kiss, they were insatiable of its delight; they entwined one another in their arms, and so drew their bodies into closer contact. Daphnis, in the course of this embrace, straining Chloe more tightly to his bosom, she falls upon her side, and he falls with her, and thus acting out the image of their dreams, they long lay locked in each other's arms. Their innocence knew nothing beyond this; they imagined that love had nothing farther to bestow; so after fruitlessly passing the greater portion of the day in this manner, they separated, and drove home their flocks, loathing the approach of night. They might, perhaps, on a future occasion have become greater adepts in the mysteries of love, had not the following circumstance spread tumult and confusion throughout their neighbourhood.
Some rich young men of Methymna, who had formed a pleasure party for passing the vintage-season out of town, launched a small vessel, employing their servants as rowers, and shaped their course towards the fields of Mitylene, which lie near the sea-coast. They knew that there was an excellent harbour for them, with every thing adapted for their accommodation, as the shore was adorned with handsome houses, with baths, with gardens, and with groves, some of which were the productions of nature, and some of art.
Here the party arrived, and drew their boat into a safe place, after which they committed no acts of mischief, but amused themselves in various ways, with rod and line angling for rock-fish, which were found under the different promontories, or hunting the hares, which, terrified by the noise of the grape gatherers, had fled towards the shore, and capturing them by means of dogs and nets. Part of their amusement also was to set snares for birds: many wild ducks, wild geese and bustards were caught, so that their sport supplied their table in a great measure; and whatever addition they wanted was easily procured from the labourers in the fields, who were paid more than its worth for everything which they supplied. Their chief inconvenience was want of bread and wine, and a good lodging at night; for as it was late in the autumn, they did not think it safe to sleep on board their boat, but in apprehension of storms, usual at this season, were wont to draw it up on shore.
It so happened that a countryman had broken the old rope to which the stone was suspended for crushing his grapes after they had been trodden in the wine-press, and being in want of another to supply its place, had come clandestinely down to the sea-shore, and taking the cable from the boat, which was left without any one to watch it, had quietly conveyed it home to supply his need. The young Methymnæans, in the morning, made inquiries after their rope; but as no one confessed the theft, after venting their reproaches on this breach of hospitality, they launched their boat, and left that part of the coast. After sailing rather more than a league, they landed on the estate where Daphnis and Chloe dwelt. It appeared to them to be a good country for hare-hunting. Having no rope to serve as a cable, they twisted some vine-branches as a substitute, and tied the head of their boat to the shore: then let loose the dogs to scent about in the places most likely for game, and fixed their nets. The cry of the hounds, running hither and thither, frightened the goats, which fled from the mountains down to the sea-shore, where some of the boldest of the flock, finding no food upon the coast, approached the boat and gnawed the branches which were fastened as a cable.
At the same moment a swell set in, owing to the breezes blowing from the mountains. The motion of the waves began to carry off the boat, and, at length, bore it out to sea. The Methymnæans saw the accident: some of them ran in great haste down to the shore: others hastened to call the dogs together: and all of them cried out for assistance, in hopes of assembling the labourers from the neighbouring fields. It was all of no avail, for the wind increased, and the boat was driven down the current. When the Methymnæans found themselves thus deprived of it, and of the considerable property which it contained, they inquired for the goat-herd, and finding him to be Daphnis, they beat him severely and stripped him. One of them took a dog-leash, and bending Daphnis' arms behind his back, was preparing to bind him. Poor Daphnis, smarting with his beating, roared out for assistance: he called upon all his neighbours, but upon Lamon and Dryas in particular. The old men took his part stoutly: the toils of husbandry had made them hard handed; they demanded that an inquiry should be made agreeably to the rules of justice. The neighbours, who had now reached the spot, backed them in their demand, and appointed Philetas umpire in the business. He was the oldest man present, and was celebrated among the villagers for the equity of his decisions. The charge of the Methymnæans was made plainly and with conciseness suitable to the rustic judge before whom they pleaded. "We came here," said they, "to hunt, and fastened our boat to the shore with some vine-branches, while we roamed about with our dogs in search of game. In the meantime, this young man's goats came down to the coast and ate the fastening of our boat, which has proved the loss of it. You yourself, saw it driven out to sea, and what valuables think you it had on board? Why, store of clothes and of dog-gear, and of money—money enough to have purchased all these fields around us. In return for what we have lost, we have surely a right to carry off this heedless goatherd, who, sailor-fashion, chooses to pasture his goats on the sea-coast."
This was what the Methymnæans alleged. Daphnis was in sore plight from the blows which he had received; but seeing Chloe among the crowd, he rose superior to his pain, and spoke as follows:—
"I am, and always have been very careful of my herds. What neighbour can say that a goat of mine ever browsed upon his garden, or devoured any of his sprouting vines? It is these sportsmen who are themselves to blame, for having dogs so badly broken as to run wildly about making such a barking, and like so many wolves driving my sheep from hill and dale down to the sea. The poor brutes eat the vine branches; no wonder, for they could find no grass, nor shrubs, nor thyme upon the sands. The sea and the winds destroyed the boat; let the storm bear the blame and not my goats. They say, that they had left their clothes and money on board:—who, in his senses, can believe that a boat freighted with so much wealth, was intrusted to a vine branch for its cable?"
Daphnis said no more, but burst into tears, which moved all his countrymen with compassion. Philetas, the judge, swore by Pan and the Nymphs, that neither Daphnis nor his goats were in fault; that only the sea and the winds could be accused, and thattheywere not under his jurisdiction. This decision had no effect on the Methymnæans, who flew into a rage, and seizing Daphnis, were preparing to bind him. The villagers irritated at such behaviour, fell upon them as thick as starlings or rooks, and rescued Daphnis, who now began to fight in his own defence. In a very short time the Mitlyenæans, by dint of their clubs, put the strangers to flight, and did not desist from the pursuit, till they had driven them into a different quarter of the island.
While they were engaged in the pursuit, Chloe led Daphnis gently by the hand to the grotto of the Nymphs; there she washed the blood from his face and nostrils, and taking a slice of bread and cheese from her scrip, gave it him to eat. After she had thus refreshed him, she impressed a honeyed kiss with her tender lips.
So near was Daphnis getting into serious trouble; but the affair did not end here. The Methymnæans reached their own city with much pain and difficulty; for instead of sailing they had to travel on foot, and instead of every luxury, and convenience, they had nothing but bruises and wounds for their comfort. Immediately upon their arrival at home, they called an assembly of their fellow townsmen, and intreated them to take up arms to avenge their cause, which they represented in their own way, altogether concealing the real truth of the matter, for fear of being laughed at for having been so soundly beaten by a few shepherds. They accused the people of Mitylene of having seized their boat, as if it belonged to an enemy, and of plundering it of all its contents. Their wounds, which they exhibited, gained them belief among their countrymen, who resolved to avenge the cause of the young men, and more particularly as they belonged to the first families in the place. Accordingly they resolved to begin the war without the usual forms of proclamation, and ordered their naval commander to launch ten vessels immediately, and ravage the coasts of the enemy. As the winter was coming on they did not think it safe to hazard a larger fleet.
Early the very next day he put to sea; and employing his soldiers as rowers, steered his course to the shores of Mitylene. Here he seized numbers of cattle, a great quantity of corn and wine, (the vintage being lately ended,) together with the labourers who were still at work there. Thus plundering as they went, they landed at last on the estate where Daphnis and Chloe resided, and carried off whatever came to hand. Daphnis was not then tending his goats, but had gone to the wood, to cut green branches for the winter fodder of his kids. Looking down from the woods, he saw these ravages; and immediately hid himself in the hollow of a decayed beech tree. Chloe happened to be with the flocks; she fled in affright to the grotto of the Nymphs: and the invaders pursued her. Here she intreated them, if they had any respect to the deities of the place, to spare her and her flocks; but her prayers were of no avail; for the ravagers, after offering many insults to the statues of the goddesses, drove off the flocks, and hurried Chloe along with them, as if she had been one of her own goats or sheep, striking her ever and anon with vine twigs.
Their vessels being now filled with plunder of all kinds, the Methymnæans thought it advisable not to prosecute their voyage farther, but to return home, more especially as they were apprehensive of the winter storms, and of an attack from the inhabitants. Accordingly they put about; but, as there was no wind, they had to labour at their oars.
Daphnis, (when all was quiet) came down to the plain, the usual place for pasturing their flocks, but not a goat, nor a sheep was to be seen, nor was Chloe herself there: when he saw the whole place deserted, and found Chloe's pipe thrown upon the ground, he burst into loud and bitter lamentations:—he ran to the beech tree, which had been their usual seat, and then to the ocean, to try if he could descry her, he searched for her in the grotto, whither she had fled, and whence she had been dragged away. Here, at last, he threw himself on the ground in despair, and exclaimed against the Nymphs, as the deserters of his Chloe.
"Chloe has been torn away from you, ye Nymphs, and yet ye could endure to see it! she who has woven so many garlands for you, who has poured so many libations of new milk to you, and whose pipe is here suspended as an offering to you! Never did a wolf carry off a single goat of mine, but marauders have now carried away all my flock, and their mistress with them.—My goats will be flayed, my sheep will be sacrificed, and my Chloe will henceforth be confined within a city! how shall I venture to return to my father and mother without my goats, and without my Chloe?—I, who shall appear a deserter of my charge! I have no more flocks to tend, so here will I lie, till death take me, or the enemy again lay hold of me. Ah! my Chloe, do you share in my sufferings?—do you still remember these plains, these Nymphs and me; or are you consoled by having the sheep and goats for your companions in captivity?"
Thus did Daphnis vent his grief, till weary with weeping and lamenting he fell into a deep sleep. While slumbering, the three Nymphs appeared to stand before him; they were tall and beautiful, half-naked and without sandals; their hair flowed loose over their shoulders, and indeed in every respect they resembled their statues in the grotto. At first they shewed signs of commiseration for Daphnis, and, presently, the eldest of them addressed him in these consolatory words:—
"Do not accuse us, Daphnis; Chloe is an object of deeper anxiety to us, than she is even to yourself. We had compassion on her when she was an infant; when she was exposed in this grot, we adopted her and bred her up. She is not Lamon's daughter, nor do Lamon's fields or herds in any part belong to her. We have at this time been providing for her safety, so that she shall not be taken to Methymne as a slave, nor be numbered among the spoils. We have intreated Pan, (whose statue stands beneath yonder pine, and whom you have never honoured even with a bunch of flowers) to come forward as Chloe's champion, for he is more used to warfare than we are, and has often quitted his rural groves to join in the din of battle. He is on Chloe's side, and he will be found no despicable enemy by the Methymnæans. Be not uneasy then, nor perplex yourself; arise, shew yourself to Lamon and Myrtale, who have thrown themselves on the earth in despair, under the idea that you too are carried off by the enemy. To-morrow Chloe and her flocks shall return, when you shall tend them together, and together shall play upon your pipe.—Leave your future fates to the care ofLove."
After these words and vision in his dream, Daphnis sprang up, and, while his eyes were filled with tears, partly of grief and partly of joy, he paid his adorations to the statues of the Nymphs, and vowed, that upon Chloe's safe return he would sacrifice a she-goat (the best of his herd) to the protecting goddesses. Then he hastened to the pine, beneath whose shade stood the statue of Pan. The legs of the rural god were those of the goat, and he had a horned forehead; in one hand he held a pipe, with the other he grasped a goat, which was in the attitude of bounding. Daphnis adored his statue likewise, prayed on behalf of Chloe, and vowed to sacrifice a he-goat for her safety. Scarcely could he cease from his tears and intreaties by sun-set, when taking up the green fodder which he had been cutting, he returned to his home, where his presence dispelled Lamon's grief and filled him with joy, After taking some refreshment he retired to rest; but his sleep was not even then without tears. In his slumbers he poured forth prayers to the Nymphs to bless him with another vision, and sighed for the return of day, when his Chloe was to be restored.—Of all nights this appeared to him the longest.—During its continuance the following events took place:—
When the Methymnæan commander had rowed somewhat more than a mile, he wished to afford his men some rest, wearied as they were with their past exertions. At length he espied a promontory, which projected into the sea in a semicircular form, affording a harbour more calm and secure than even a regular port. Here he anchored his fleet, keeping his vessels at a distance from the shore, that they might not be exposed to any attack from the inhabitants, while his men indulged themselves at their ease and in all security. The crews having plenty of all manner of provision among their plunder, eat and drank and gave themselves up to joy, as if they had been celebrating a festival for victory. The day was closing; and their merriment was being prolonged to night, when suddenly all the earth appeared in a blaze; and the dash of oars was heard, as if a mighty fleet were approaching.[9]They called upon their commander to arm himself: they shouted to each other; some fancied that they were wounded; others that they saw the bodies of the slain before their eyes. It appeared like a night engagement against an invisible enemy.
A day of greater terror succeeded to the darkness. The goats belonging to Daphnis, appeared with branches full of ivy berries on their horns: the rams and ewes, which had been taken with Chloe, instead of bleating, howled like wolves. Their mistress was seen to have a garland of pine-leaves round her head. The sea also had its marvels. The anchors stuck fast in the mud, and could not be drawn up: when the men dipped their oars in order to row, they were shattered in pieces. The dolphins leaped from the sea, and with their tails broke the planks of the vessels. From the top of the rock behind the promontory the sound of a pipe was heard: but it did not, like the pipe, delight the ear with dulcet sounds, but terrified like the harsh blast of a trumpet. The men of Methymna were confounded; they seized their arms, and called out to their enemies who were invisible; they prayed for the return of night, which might bring a truce to their terrors.
To all those who were capable of reflection, it was evident, that these phantasms and sounds proceeded from Pan, who must have conceived some cause of indignation against them: but what the cause could be, they were at a loss to conjecture, for they had not plundered any thing which was sacred to the god. About the middle of the day their commander (not without the intervention of the god) fell into a deep sleep, when Pan appeared to him and addressed him thus:
"Ο most abandoned, most impious of men, to what lengths has your madness driven you! The fields, which are dear to me, ye have filled with the tumults of war: the herds and the flocks, which were my peculiar care, ye have taken as plunder. Ye have dragged a virgin from the altar, whom Cupid had reserved in order to adorn a Tale of Love. Ye regarded not the Nymphs, who beheld your deeds, nor even the mighty Pan. Never shall ye reach Methymna, sailing with these spoils, nor shall yourselves escape the terrors of the pipe which has thus confounded you. Unless ye immediately give back Chloe to the Nymphs, and restore her goats and sheep, I will submerge you and ye shall become food for fishes. Bestir yourselves, therefore, land both her and them, I will guide your course by sea, and hers by land."
Bryaxis (for such was the commander's name) awoke from his dream, and immediately ordered the captain of every vessel to search among his prisoners for Chloe. They soon found her, for she was sitting still crowned with pine-leaves, and brought her before him. Bryaxis regarded the ornament on her head as a proof and confirmation of what he had seen in the vision, and without delay took her on board his own vessel,[10]and conveyed her safe to the shore. No sooner had she landed than the sound of the pipe was again heard from the rock: but it was no longer dreadful like the blast of the war trumpet: on the contrary it was sweet and pastoral in tone, as when the shepherd is leading out his flock to feed. The sheep ran down the gangway,[11]without their horny hoofs slipping. The goats, used to steep places, proceeded still more venturesomely. Upon reaching the shore the flocks formed themselves in a ring around Chloe, like a company of dancers, skipping and bleating and exhibiting every symptom of joy; while the sheep and goats and oxen belonging to the other shepherds remained quiet in the holds of the vessels, as if knowing that the pipe, which sounded, was not intended to summon them. While every one was struck with astonishment, and celebrated the power of Pan, still stranger sights appeared both by sea and land.
Before the crews had time to heave their anchors, the ships of themselves began to make sail, and a dolphin, which leaped and played on the waves, swam before the admiral's ship as guide. On the other hand Chloe's goats and sheep were led by most ravishing music of the pipe, which continued its notes, though the player was invisible: sheep and goats continued to graze and pace gently onward listening with delight to the melody.
It was the time of evening-pasture, when Daphnis from the summit of a rock espied his Chloe and her flocks. Ο Pan! Ο ye Nymphs! he shouted in rapture, and hurrying down into the plain threw himself into Chloe's arms, fainted, and fell to the ground. The kisses and soothing embraces of the maiden with some difficulty restored him to his senses, after which he proceeded to their favourite beech-tree, under the shade of which he sat down, and inquired how Chloe had escaped from so many enemies. She related everything which had happened—the appearance of the ivy around the goats' horns—the wolfish howling of the sheep—the pine garland encircling her own temples—the blaze of fire on the land—the unwonted noise at sea—the two discordant notes of the pipe—that of war and that of peace—the terrors of the night—and lastly, how the melody guided her hither, through fields and over plains to which she was a stranger. Upon hearing this, Daphnis recognized the vision of the Nymphs, and the influence of Pan, and in his turn, he gave Chloe an account of all which he had seen and heard. He informed her how when ready to destroy himself, he had been preserved through the intervention of the Nymphs.
He then sent Chloe to summon Dryas and Lamon with their servants and to desire them to bring every requisite for a sacrifice, while he in the mean time took the choicest of his she-goats, crowned it with ivy (just as it had appeared to the enemy on board of ship) poured milk between its horns, and sacrificed it to the Nymphs. Then he hung it up and flayed it, and suspended its skin as an offering to them.
Chloe now arrived with Lamon and the servants. A fire was immediately kindled, upon which part of the goat's flesh was boiled and part of it roasted. Daphnis offered the first portions to the Nymphs, and poured out to them a libation of new must; he then piled some leaves into the form of couches, reclined at his ease upon one of them, and gave himself up to good cheer and mirth: but at the same time kept a watchful eye on his sheep for fear a wolf should effect what the enemy had been foiled in doing. After this the party sang the praises of the Nymphs in songs, which had been indited by the shepherds of by-gone days. They slept in the field that night, and in the morning remembered Pan. The leader of the goats was selected from the herd; a chaplet of pine-leaves was bound round his horns, and he was led to the statue, which stood beneath the pine; when after pouring over him a libation of wine,[12]carefully avoiding all ominous expressions, the victim was slain, suspended, and flayed. The flesh, part of which was roasted and part boiled, was spread out upon some dry leaves in the meadow. The skin with the horns was hung up on the tree hard by the statue of the god—a pastoral offering to a pastoral deity. A first portion also of the flesh was offered, and libations poured to him from the largest goblet. Chloe sang; while Daphnis piped.
Having discharged their religious rites, they were reclining on the grass and feasting, when Philetas the herdsman accidentally came by, bringing with him some garlands, and vine-branches, laden with their clusters, as offerings to Pan. Tityrus, his youngest son, a golden-haired, blue-eyed, fair and sportive boy followed him. At the sight of Philetas, Daphnis and Chloe sprang from their grassy couch, assisted in crowning Pan, and in suspending the clusters to the tree, and then made Philetas seat himself by them, and join in their carousal. Very soon, as old men do when their clay is moistened,[13]they began to talk of their youthful adventures, of the flocks which they had fed, of incursions of marauders, which they had escaped in the days when they were young. One prided himself on having slain a wolf: another boasted, that in piping he was second to Pan alone.—This was the boast of Philetas.
Daphnis and Chloe used urgent entreaties that he would teach them the art, and that he would play on the pipe at the festival of that deity, who delights in its melody. The old man complained that age had shortened his powers of breath, but complied with their request, and took up the pipe of Daphnis. It was a pipe too small to do justice to so great an art; being suited only for a boy. Accordingly he despatched Tityrus to bring his own pipe from the cottage, which was rather more than a mile off. The boy threw aside his cloak,[14]and darted off like a young fawn. Lamon, in the mean time, promised to amuse them with the legend of the Syrinx,[15](or pipe) which he had heard from a Sicilian shepherd, who received a he-goat and a pipe as the price of his song.
"This pipe was not formerly what it is now, an instrument of music: it was once a maiden of beautiful form, and melodious voice. She fed her flocks, she sported with the Nymphs, and the sound of her voice was sweet as it is now. Pan beheld the maiden feeding her flocks, disporting herself, and singing. He approached her, and endeavoured to win her to his will, promising her as an enticement that all her she-goats should bear two kids at a birth. The maiden laughed at his suit, and replied that she would never think of accepting as a lover, one who was neither man nor goat, but a compound half of each.—Pan was preparing to offer violence: the maiden fled from him, and when weary with running, hid herself among the reeds of a lake and disappeared. Her pursuer in a rage cut the reeds, but finding no damsel there, and perceiving what had taken place, he in memory of her formed this instrument. Compacting with wax unequal reeds in order to shew how the course of their love had not run smooth.[16]—Thus she, who was once a beauteous maiden, is now a musical pipe: the instrument inheriting her name."
While Philetas was commending Lamon's legend, which, he said, was more pleasing than any song, Tityrus appeared with his father's pipe, a large instrument formed of the largest reeds, and ornamented with brass over the junctures of the wax. A person might have imagined it to be the very pipe whose reeds had been first united by Pan. Philetas rose up, placed himself upon a seat in an erect posture, and began to try whether the reeds were in good order: he found the air pass through them freely, and then with as much energy as if he had been in the prime of youth, he blew a note so vigorous and full, that it appeared like a band of pipers playing in concert. By degrees he moderated the vehemence of his tones, and turned them into a softer strain. He ran through all the variations of pastoral melody; he played the tune, which the oxen obey, that which attracts the goats, that in which the sheep delight. The notes for the sheep were sweet, those for the oxen deep, those for the goats were shrill. In short, his single pipe could express the tones of every pipe which is played upon.
Those present lay listening in silent delight; when Dryas rose up, and desired Philetas to strike up the Bacchanalian tune. Philetas obeyed, and Dryas began[17]thevintage-dance, in which he represented the plucking of the grapes, the carrying of the baskets,—the treading of the clusters, the filling of the casks, and the drinking of the new-made wine. All this Dryas imitated so closely and admirably in his pantomimic dance, that the spectator might fancy the wines, the wine-press, and the casks to be actually before him, and that Dryas was drinking in reality.
Each of the three old men had now severally distinguished himself. Dryas, in his delight gave Daphnis and Chloe a kiss, who immediately sprang from their seats, and began to dance a ballet representative of Lamon's fable. Daphnis assumed the character of Pan, and Chloe that of Syrinx. While he endeavoured to entice her to his embraces, she smiled in scorn at his attempts. He pursued her, and ran upon his tiptoes in imitation of the cloven feet of the god: while she making a semblance of exhaustion, at last hid herself in the wood, making it a substitute for reedy lake. Upon losing sight of her, Daphnis seizing the large pipe of Philetas, breathed into it a mournful strain as of one who loves; then a love-sick strain as of one who pleads; lastly and recalling strain, as of one who seeks her whom he has lost.
Philetas himself was astonished, and ran and embraced the youth and kissed him: and with a prayer, that Daphnis might transmit the pipe to as worthy a successor, bestowed it on him as a gift. The youth suspended his own pipe as an offering to Pan, kissed Chloe with as much ardour as if she had really been lost and found again, and led his flocks home by the sound of his new instrument. Chloe also (as night was coming on) conducted her sheep homeward to the music of her pipe. The goats kept close by the sheep, as Daphnis kept close by Chloe. In this manner did they enjoy each other's company, till night-fall, when they agreed to meet earlier at the pasture the next morning, an arrangement which they punctually fulfilled. As soon as the day dawned, they were in the fields. They paid their adorations to the Nymphs first, and then to Pan, afterwards retiring from their devotions to their seat under the shade of the oak, where they played their accustomed melodies. They interchanged kisses and embraces, and lay down side-by-side, but this was all; then rising, they bethought them of their meal, at which they partook of milk and wine.
Becoming gradually warmed and emboldened by all this they began to enter into an amorous revelry, and to swear perpetual affection and fidelity. Daphnis advanced to the sacred pine, and called Pan to witness, that he would never live apart from his Chloe—no—not for the space of a single day. Chloe entered the Grotto, and swore by the Nymphs, that she would live and die with Daphnis: and in the simplicity of her heart, upon coming out, she required that Daphnis should bind himself by a second oath; "for," (said the maiden) "my dear Daphnis, Pan himself, by whom you swore, is a lover, and yet unfaithful. He loved Pitys, he loved Syrinx, and yet he never ceases from pestering the Dryads with his addresses, or from causing annoyance to the Epimelian Nymphs, the guardians of our herds. He who breaks his own vows will hardly punish you, even if you should attach yourself to more damsels than there are reeds in this pipe. Come, dearest Daphnis, you must swear by this herd and by the she-goat, which nursed you, that, while Chloe is faithful to you, you will never desert her; on the other hand if Chloe should ever do despite to you, and to the Nymphs—fly from her—detest her—kill her, as you would kill a wolf."
Daphnis, delighted even at her mistrust, which shewed the warmth of her affection, placed himself in the midst of his herd, and taking hold of a she-goat with one hand, and a he-goat with the other, swore to be true to Chloe, while she was true to him; and that if she should ever prefer another before him, he would put an end not to her but to himself.
Chloe was happy:—for she believed him with all the simplicity of a girl, and of a shepherdess, and of one who thought that the sheep and the goats were the fitting and peculiar deities of those who tended them.