[1]"Hic innocentis pocula LesbiiDuces sub umbrâ; nec SemeleïusCum Marte confundet ThyoneusPrœlia."—Hor. I. Od. xvii. 21."The Lesbian wine would seem to have possessed a delicious flavour; for it is said to have deserved the name of Ambrosia rather than of wine, and to have been like nectar when old. In Athenæus this wine is called οἰνάριον,vinulum, 'the little wine,' to which Bacchus gave ἀτέλειαν, an innocence and immunity from drunkenness. Horace terms the Lesbian an innocent or unintoxicating wine; but it was the prevailing opinion among the ancients, that all sweet wines were less injurious to the head, and less apt to cause intoxication, than strong dry wines. By Pliny, however, the growths of Chios and Thasos are placed before the Lesbian, which he affirms had naturally a saltish taste."—Henderson's Hist. of Ancient and Modern Wines, p. 77.
[1]
"Hic innocentis pocula LesbiiDuces sub umbrâ; nec SemeleïusCum Marte confundet ThyoneusPrœlia."—Hor. I. Od. xvii. 21.
"The Lesbian wine would seem to have possessed a delicious flavour; for it is said to have deserved the name of Ambrosia rather than of wine, and to have been like nectar when old. In Athenæus this wine is called οἰνάριον,vinulum, 'the little wine,' to which Bacchus gave ἀτέλειαν, an innocence and immunity from drunkenness. Horace terms the Lesbian an innocent or unintoxicating wine; but it was the prevailing opinion among the ancients, that all sweet wines were less injurious to the head, and less apt to cause intoxication, than strong dry wines. By Pliny, however, the growths of Chios and Thasos are placed before the Lesbian, which he affirms had naturally a saltish taste."—Henderson's Hist. of Ancient and Modern Wines, p. 77.
[2]When the grapes were ripe, (σταφυλή) the bunches were gathered, any which remained unripe (ὅμφαξ) were carefully removed, and the rest carried from the vineyard in deep baskets (ἀρρίχοι) to be poured into a vat (ληνός) in which they were trodden by men, who had the lower part of their bodies naked, except that they wore drawers. When sufficiently trodden, the grapes were subjected to the more powerful pressure of a thick and heavy beam (for which λίθος, in Longus, seems the substitute), for the purpose of obtaining all the juice yet remaining in them. Vine branches were very frequently employed as torches.—Vide Scholiast on Aristoph. Lys. 291.
[2]When the grapes were ripe, (σταφυλή) the bunches were gathered, any which remained unripe (ὅμφαξ) were carefully removed, and the rest carried from the vineyard in deep baskets (ἀρρίχοι) to be poured into a vat (ληνός) in which they were trodden by men, who had the lower part of their bodies naked, except that they wore drawers. When sufficiently trodden, the grapes were subjected to the more powerful pressure of a thick and heavy beam (for which λίθος, in Longus, seems the substitute), for the purpose of obtaining all the juice yet remaining in them. Vine branches were very frequently employed as torches.—Vide Scholiast on Aristoph. Lys. 291.
[3]Compare the description of the garden in Achilles Tatius, 1. 15, and that of Virgil's "senex Corycius." G. iv, 125-146.
[3]Compare the description of the garden in Achilles Tatius, 1. 15, and that of Virgil's "senex Corycius." G. iv, 125-146.
[4].... Love's heralds should be thoughts,Which ten times faster glide than the sun-beams.Romeo and Juliet.
[4]
.... Love's heralds should be thoughts,Which ten times faster glide than the sun-beams.Romeo and Juliet.
[5]Oἶoν ἄρχει βρέφος ὀυρανοῦ καὶ γῆς, καὶ θαλάττης.Achilles Tatius."At his sight the sun hath turned;Neptune on the waters burned;Hell hath felt a greater heat;Jove himself forsook his seat;From the centre to the skyAre his trophies reared high."Ben Jonson, Hue and Cry after Cupid.See also the fine chorus in the Antigone, 781-790.
[5]
Oἶoν ἄρχει βρέφος ὀυρανοῦ καὶ γῆς, καὶ θαλάττης.Achilles Tatius.
"At his sight the sun hath turned;Neptune on the waters burned;Hell hath felt a greater heat;Jove himself forsook his seat;From the centre to the skyAre his trophies reared high."Ben Jonson, Hue and Cry after Cupid.
See also the fine chorus in the Antigone, 781-790.
[6]The power of love over the brute creation.—Virg. G. iii. 211-257.
[6]The power of love over the brute creation.—Virg. G. iii. 211-257.
[7]φίλημα, καὶ περιβολή, καὶ σνγκα-ακλιθῆναι γυμνοῖς σώμασι.
[7]φίλημα, καὶ περιβολή, καὶ σνγκα-ακλιθῆναι γυμνοῖς σώμασι.
[8]Ροίζῳ—"Πολλῇ δὲ ῥοιζῳ πρὸς ὄρος τρέπε πίονα μῆλα."Odys. ix. 315."Then hissing them along he drove his flocks."—Cowper.
[8]
Ροίζῳ—"Πολλῇ δὲ ῥοιζῳ πρὸς ὄρος τρέπε πίονα μῆλα."Odys. ix. 315.
"Then hissing them along he drove his flocks."—Cowper.
[9]...."φόβος δὲ πᾶσι βαρβάροις παρῆνγνώμης αποσφαλεῖσιν.. . . . . .εὐθὺς δὲ κώπης ῥοθιάδος ξυνεμβoλῇἔπαισαν ἄλμην βρύχιου ἐκ κελεύσματος."Æsch. Persæ, 391.For the good service done by Pan to the Athenians at Marathon, he was rewarded with a temple.—Herod. vi. 405.
[9]
...."φόβος δὲ πᾶσι βαρβάροις παρῆνγνώμης αποσφαλεῖσιν.. . . . . .εὐθὺς δὲ κώπης ῥοθιάδος ξυνεμβoλῇἔπαισαν ἄλμην βρύχιου ἐκ κελεύσματος."Æsch. Persæ, 391.
For the good service done by Pan to the Athenians at Marathon, he was rewarded with a temple.—Herod. vi. 405.
[10]ἐπ αὐτῆς τῆς ναυηχίδος, literally, in the admiral.
[10]ἐπ αὐτῆς τῆς ναυηχίδος, literally, in the admiral.
[11]κατὰ τῆς αποβάθρας.
[11]κατὰ τῆς αποβάθρας.
[12]εὑφημοῦντες. Especial care was taken during a sacrifice, that no inauspicious or frivolous words were uttered by any of the bystanders; hence the admonitions of the priest,—εῦφημεῖτε, εὐφημία, σιγᾶτε, σιωπᾶτε, favete linguis, and others; for improper expressions were thought not only to pollute the sacred act, but to be unlucky omens."Male ominatis,Parcite verbis."Hor. iii. Od. xiv. 11.
[12]εὑφημοῦντες. Especial care was taken during a sacrifice, that no inauspicious or frivolous words were uttered by any of the bystanders; hence the admonitions of the priest,—εῦφημεῖτε, εὐφημία, σιγᾶτε, σιωπᾶτε, favete linguis, and others; for improper expressions were thought not only to pollute the sacred act, but to be unlucky omens.
"Male ominatis,Parcite verbis."Hor. iii. Od. xiv. 11.
[13]υπoβεβρεγμένoι.
[13]υπoβεβρεγμένoι.
[14]ἐγκόμβωμα.
[14]ἐγκόμβωμα.
[15]See the legend in Ovid Met. i. 689.
[15]See the legend in Ovid Met. i. 689.
[16]άνίσους, καθ' ὃτι καὶ ὁ ἔρως ἄνισος αὐτοῖς.
[16]άνίσους, καθ' ὃτι καὶ ὁ ἔρως ἄνισος αὐτοῖς.
[17]"La Pantomime est le premier langage de l'homme; elle est connue de toutes les nations."—Bernardin de St. Pierre.On the subject of the Pantomimic dance, common to Greece and Italy, see Dict. of Greek and Rom. Antiq. p. 713.
[17]"La Pantomime est le premier langage de l'homme; elle est connue de toutes les nations."—Bernardin de St. Pierre.
On the subject of the Pantomimic dance, common to Greece and Italy, see Dict. of Greek and Rom. Antiq. p. 713.
When the inhabitants of Mitylene heard of the descent made by the ten vessels, and had been informed by some coming from the spot of the plunder which had been carried off, they were of opinion that such an injury on the part of the Methymnæans was insufferable, and immediately raised a force of three thousand infantry and five hundred cavalry, which they put under the command of Hippasus with orders, that he should lead his men by land, and not embark them on board of ship, as a voyage in the winter season would be dangerous.
The general began his march, but he did not lay waste the country of the enemy, nor did he plunder the possessions of the husbandman, or of the shepherd, thinking such petty warfare suitable to a captain of a banditti, rather than to the leader of an army. He hastened his march in order to reach the gates of the city and attack the inhabitants while they were off their guard. When his troops approached within eleven miles of the city, a herald came out to them with proposals for a truce. The Methymnæans had discovered from the prisoners, that the citizens of Mitylene were ignorant of the beginning of the affray,[1]and that the insolence of their own young men had drawn upon them the vengeance inflicted by the herdsmen and shepherds. They repented, accordingly, of having acted precipitately rather than prudently towards a neighbouring city, and were desirous to restore all their plunder, in order that friendly intercourse by sea and land might be restored. Although Hippasus had full powers given him of acting as he thought proper, he ordered the herald to proceed to Mitylene, while he pitched his camp about a mile from the enemy's city, and waited for the answer of his fellow-citizens. In two days a messenger arrived with orders for him to refrain from any act of hostility, to receive the restored booty, and to return home; for since the declaration of peace or war rested on the decision of the people, they considered peace far preferable.
Thus did the war between Methymne and Mitylene begin and end in an equally unexpected manner.
Winter, however, was more formidable to Daphnis and Chloe, than war had been. On a sudden heavy falls of snow blocked up the roads, and shut up the cottagers within doors. Impetuous torrents rushed down from the mountains, the ice thickened, the trees[2]seemed as though their branches were broken down beneath the weight of snow, and the whole face of the earth had disappeared except about the brinks of fountains and the borders of rivers.
No one led his flocks to pasture, or even ventured to stir from home; but lighting large fires, at cock-crowing, some employed themselves in twisting ropes, some in weaving goats' hair, and some in making snares and nets to catch birds. At the same time they took care to supply the oxen in their stalls with chaff, the goats and sheep in their cotes with leaves, and the hogs in their styes with holm-berries and acorns.
As every one was of necessity confined within-doors,[3]most of the labourers and shepherds were glad at having an interval of release from their wonted labours, and immediately after their morning-meal lay down, and enjoyed a lengthy sleep, winter appearing to them more pleasant than the summer, the autumn, or even the spring. But Daphnis and Chloe cherished in their memory the pleasures, of which they were now deprived,—their kisses, their embraces, and their happy meals together. They passed nights of sleeplessness and sorrow, and looked for the return of spring as a restoration to life after an interval of death. It was painful to them, if chance threw in their way a scrip, from which they had eaten, or a vessel from which they had drunk, or if they happened to cast their eyes on a pipe, now thrown aside with neglect, which had once been bestowed and received as a token of love. Frequent were their prayers to the Nymphs, and to Pan, to deliver them from their troubles, and once more to let the sun shine upon them and their herds, and while thus engaged they also endeavoured to devise some scheme, by which they might obtain a sight of one another. Chloe was quite at a loss, and could not contrive any plan, successfully, for her reputed mother was always sitting near her, teaching her to card wool and to turn the spindle, and touching upon the subject of marriage.
Daphnis, however, had greater quickness of invention, and more leisure than the maiden, and hit upon the following scheme for getting a sight of Chloe. Two lofty myrtle trees and an ivy grew before Dryas's cottage, and indeed under the very cottage itself. The ivy grew between the myrtle trees, throwing out on either side, its sprays like a vine, and forming an arbour by intermingling its leaves with theirs. The berries hung down in thick clusters, and were as large as grapes. Numbers of winter birds flocked thither from want of food elsewhere; such as blackbirds, thrushes, wood-pigeons, starlings, and a variety of others, which live on berries. Daphnis filled his scrip with some honeyed cakes, and quitted his home under pretence of going to catch some of these birds. To remove all suspicion of his real design he carried with him plenty of birdlime and snares. The distance was little more than a mile, but the frost and the snow, which had not yet melted, rendered the road very toilsome. ToLOVE, however, all things are passable—fire, and water, and even Scythian snows. Having soon arrived at the cottage, he shook the snow from his legs and feet, set the snares, spread the birdlime, and seated himself in the arbour watching the birds, but thinking of Chloe. So many were very soon caught, that he had abundance of occupation in collecting them together, killing and plucking them. In the mean time, not a man, not a maiden, not even a domestic fowl came out of the cottage: the whole family were shut up and close around the fire. Daphnis was now utterly at a loss what to do, and thought that he had come at an unlucky time. He determined to knock at the door if he could find any pretext, and began to consider what would appear most plausible. "What, if I say that I want a light to kindle our fire? they will reply 'you have neighbours within a stone's throw of your cottage.' What, if I request something to eat?—'your scrip is full of victuals.' What, if I ask for some wine?—'you have but lately got in the vintage.' What, if I exclaim that a wolf has been pursuing me?—'where are the traces of his feet?' What, if I tell them I came to snare birds?—'why not go home again, if you have had sport enough?' Shall I at once say that I have come to see Chloe? Ah! who will venture to make such a bold avowal to the father and mother of the maiden? My pleas will be all exhausted and I shall be reduced to silence. Since none of these excuses will pass free from suspicion, it were better to hold my tongue. It seems decreed by the Fates that I shall not see my Chloe during the winter; I must wait with patience until the spring."
After indulging in some such thoughts as these, he took up his game, and was preparing to depart, when, as if Love took pity on him, the following occurrence happened.
The family within had spread their table: the meat was portioned out; a slice of bread was placed for each, and the goblet was ready mixed. One of the sheep-dogs, who had watched his opportunity, when no person was observing him, seized a piece of meat, and made his escape. Dryas (for the stolen meat happened to be his portion) snatched up a club, and pursued the thief, following him up like a second dog. Daphnis had thrown the birds over his shoulder, and was just about hurrying away when Dryas espied him. At the sight of Daphnis he immediately forgot both meat and dog, called out after him, "Good morrow, my son!" ran to him, embraced him, took him by the hand, and led him into the house. When the lovers saw each other, they were very near sinking to the ground; however, they continued to support themselves, while they saluted and embraced: indeed their embrace acted as a stay, and prevented them from falling.
Having thus contrary to his expectation obtained an interview with his Chloe and a kiss, Daphnis drew nearer to the fire, and sat down: then taking the wood-pigeons and thrushes from his shoulder threw them upon the table, while he related to the family the weariness which he felt from so long and tedious a confinement at home, the eagerness with which he set out in pursuit of some sport, and the manner in which he caught the birds, some with a snare, some with birdlime, when they came in search of the myrtle and ivy berries. The family praised his activity, and compared him to "Apollo the far-darting;" and urged him to partake of what the dog had fortunately left; desiring Chloe in the mean time to pour him out wherewithal to drink. She cheerfully complied and handed the goblet to all the others first, last of all to Daphnis, pretending to be affronted with him, for having come thither and intending to go away without asking to see her: nevertheless, before holding the beaker out to him, she sipped[4]a little from it, and then presented it; upon which he, although thirsty, drank as leisurely as possible, in order to prolong his pleasure, by protracting his draught.
The table was soon cleared of the fragments of bread and meat: after which, as they were sitting by the fire, they began to inquire after Myrtale and Lamon, who were pronounced fortunate in having such an excellent provider for their old age. Daphnis was delighted at having these commendations pronounced upon him in the hearing of Chloe, and when her parents proceeded to insist upon his remaining with them till next day, when they intended to sacrifice to Bacchus, he was very nearly adoring them in lieu of the god. He immediately produced his store of honeyed cakes from his scrip, together with the birds, which he had caught, which they dressed for supper. A second goblet was mixed; and a second fire was lighted. Night soon came on, when they partook of a hearty meal; and at its conclusion, after telling stories, and singing songs, they retired to rest. Chloe slept with her mother, and Daphnis with Dryas. Chloe's only pleasure was the thought of seeing Daphnis the next morning; Daphnis enjoyed a kind of hollow satisfaction, even from sleeping with Chloe's father, whom he hugged and kissed, dreaming all the while, that the embraces were being bestowed upon Chloe.
When the day broke the cold was intense, and the sharp north wind was parching up every thing. Dryas and his family arose, sacrificed a ram of one year old to Bacchus, and lighted a large fire to boil the meat. Nape made the bread, while Dryas attended to the meat, and, while they were thus engaged, Daphnis and Chloe proceeded to the ivy-covered arbour, where they set snares and spread birdlime, and again caught no small quantity of birds. Kisses and delightful converse were continuously interchanged between them.
"I came hither entirely on your account, Chloe."
"I know it, my dear Daphnis."
"On your account it is that these poor blackbirds now perish; what place have I in your affections? Do think of me!"
"I do think of you, my Daphnis, I swear it by the Nymphs whom I once invoked in that Grotto, whither we will repair again so soon as the snow shall have melted."
"The snow lies very thick; I fear that I shall melt away, before it does."
"Do not despair, Daphnis, the sun is very warm."
"Would that it were as warm as the fire which burns my heart!"
"You are in jest: you are deceiving me, Daphnis."
"No! I am not; I swear it by the goats, whom at your bidding I invoked."
Chloe's reply was an echo to what Daphnis said. Nape now calling them, they hurried into the house with a much larger supply of game than Daphnis had taken the day before. First pouring out a libation to Bacchus, from the goblet, they sat down to their banquet with chaplets of ivy on their heads. When it was time to part, after loudly shouting in honour of the god, Daphnis took his leave, Dryas and his wife having filled his bag with meat and bread, and insisting upon his carrying the wood-pigeons and thrushes home to Lamon and Myrtale; for, as they said, they should be able to catch as many as they pleased so long as the cold lasted and the ivy berries did not fail. At length Daphnis bade them farewell, and at his departure gave each of them a kiss, but he saluted Chloe last of all, that her kiss might remain pure and unalloyed upon his lips.
He frequently found out pretences for paying them fresh visits; so that the winter did not pass by altogether without an interchange of love.
In the opening of spring, when the snow was melted, the face of the earth again uncovered and the grass beginning to grow,[5]the shepherds and herdsmen led forth their flocks to the pastures, but Daphnis and Chloe were earlier than the others, inasmuch as they were under the guidance of a mightier shepherd (Love). The first place to which they hastened, was the grotto of the Nymphs; the next was the pine-tree, where stood the statue of Pan; they then proceeded to the oak, under which, sitting down, they watched their feeding flocks, and kissed and embraced each other. Wishing to crown the statues of the deities, they sought for flowers: these were but just beginning to come out under the mild influence of the zephyr, and the genial warmth of the sun; but they found the violet, the narcissus, and the pimpernel, and all the other firstlings of the year: with these they crowned the statues, and then poured out libations of new milk drawn from the ewes and the she-goats. After this ceremony they began to tune their pastoral pipes, as though challenging the nightingales to resume their song: these answered softly from the thickets, and gradually became perfect in their plaintive strains, as if recalling them slowly after so long a silence.[6]
The sheep were heard bleating, while the lambs were seen to frisk about, or stooping under their mothers drew the teat; the rams pursued and leaped upon those which had never lambed. The he-goats did the like, contending for their mates, each making choice of his own, and guarding her from the approach of a rival.
All these objects might have kindled love even in hoary age; they who were in the bloom of youth, full of vigour, and long since warmed by desire, were inflamed by such sounds, melted at such sights, and longed for something beyond a kiss and an embrace.
Especially was this the case with Daphnis. He had passed the whole winter in the house, and in a state of inactivity, he therefore was more impetuous than ever in his desire for kissing and embracing Chloe, and became bolder and more inquisitive in all love matters. He urged her to grant him all his wishes; and proposed that they should lie side by side, naked, since of the precepts given by Philetas for curing love, this remained untried. She inquired what there possibly could be besides kisses, embraces, and reclining side by side; why did he wish that they should recline together naked?
"I wish," said he "to follow the example of the rams and ewes; of the male goats and their females.—After their amorous sport, the females no longer flee, and the males no longer pursue; but both feed quietly together, as if they felt a mutual pleasure. There must be some gratification in what they do; something which cures the sting of love."[7]"But," returned Chloe, "the postures of the sheep and goats are very different from ours; the males leap upon the females from behind; this is out of the question with us; besides, you wish me to lie beside you naked, whereas they have a thick covering given them by nature."
Daphnis admitted the reasonableness of this; so after lying by her side, as usual, for a considerable time, ignorant how to gratify his passions, he got up and actually shed tears, at being less expert in love than a silly sheep.
They had a neighbour named Chromis, who farmed some land of his own. He was growing old, but his wife, who came from the city, was young, good looking, and superior in manners to the common rustics; her name was Lycænium. Seeing Daphnis driving his goats past her house, conducting them to pasture in the morning, and home again in the evening, she was very desirous of enticing him into love by means of presents.
Upon one occasion, watching until he was alone, she gave him a pipe, a honeycomb, and a scrip of deer-skin. She did not say anything at the time, suspecting his affection for Chloe, by seeing him always in her company. Hitherto, however, her knowledge of the fact was founded only upon having seen nods and laughter exchanged between them. Not long after, pretending to Chromis in the morning that she was going to visit a neighbour in the pains of childbirth, she followed the lovers, and concealed herself in a thicket, in order to avoid discovery; from thence she saw and heard everything which passed between them, and was a witness of the tears shed by Daphnis under his disappointment. Commiserating their trouble, and conceiving the present a good opportunity to promote their wishes, and to gratify her own desires, she had recourse to the following expedient.
The next morning, under cover of the same excuse as on the previous day, she went straight to the oak where Daphnis and Chloe were sitting together; then admirably counterfeiting a state of great alarm, she exclaimed, "Come to my aid, I entreat you, Daphnis, an eagle has carried off the finest among my twenty geese; and unable to bear it to yonder high rock, has fallen with it in the neighbouring low wood. In the name of Pan and the Nymphs come into the wood and rescue my goose, I am afraid to enter it by myself. Do not let me have my number made imperfect; besides you may perhaps kill the eagle, and will then no longer be in dread of having your lambs carried away.—Chloe will, in the meantime, mind your flocks, the goats know her as well as they do you, from your being always in company."
Daphnis, having no suspicions of her motives, got up and followed Lycænium, who led him as far as possible from Chloe; upon arriving in the thickest of the wood, near a fountain, she bid him sit down beside her.—"You are in love, Daphnis," she said; "the Nymphs informed me of this, last night; they told me of the tears which you shed yesterday, and have commanded me, for the sake of your relief, to teach you love's mysteries. These are not limited to kisses and embraces, and the doing what is done by the rams and goats;[8]they result in much greater pleasure, and are longer in duration. If, therefore, you wish to be freed from your pains, and to make trial of the sweets which you so long for, you must become my willing pupil, and out of regard to the Nymphs I will be your instructress." Daphnis could scarcely contain himself for joy, but rustic as he was, a goatherd, young and in love, he threw himself at Lycænium's feet, entreating her to teach him with all speed the art of gratifying his passion for Chloe.—Moreover, as if about to learn something very mysterious and wonderful, he promised to reward her pains with a kid, some cheeses made of the first new milk, and the she-goat herself. Finding the young shepherd so liberal in his offers, she began to tutor him. She made him sit close to her, bidding him kiss and embrace her, and lastly lie down beside her, as was his wont with Chloe. After this, seeing his amorous ardour, she received him into her arms, and, aided by nature, led him to the wished-for consummation.[9]
When this amorous lesson was concluded, Daphnis, in his simplicity, was upon the point of hurrying back to Chloe, to put in practice what he had learnt, for fear lest through delaying he might forget it. Lycænium however stopped him, saying,—"You have something more yet to learn, Daphnis,—I am a full grown woman, and have felt no inconvenience from what has taken place; I was instructed in this art by another man, who received my maidenhead as his reward;—but Chloe, when she engages in this amorous contest, will cry out, and shed tears, and suffer inconvenience; however, you must not mind all this; so when you find her in a compliant humour, bring her to this wood, where you will be free from all intrusion,—and remember, that you have had me for your instructress previous to Chloe."[10]Lycænium, after giving him this advice, retired to another part of the wood as if still in search of the lost goose. Daphnis, reflecting upon what she had said, restrained his former impetuosity,[11]fearing to be the cause of any pain and inconvenience to Chloe; and determining to solace himself with her only in the accustomed manner, he issued from the wood. Upon his return he found her weaving a chaplet of violets; so, pretending that he had delivered the goose from the talons of the eagle, he threw his arms around her and embraced her, since in this at least there could be no danger. She placed the chaplet upon his head, and kissed his hair, which, in her estimation was far preferable to the violets. Then producing from her scrip a cake of figs and bread, she gave him some, then snatching the morsels from his mouth, eat them herself, like the youngling of a bird.
While they were at their meal, which, however, consisted more of kisses than of food, a fishing boat was seen proceeding along the coast. There was no wind stirring; a perfect calm prevailed: so having taken to their oars, the crew were rowing vigorously, their object being to carry some newly caught fish to a rich man in the city. They dipped their oars, doing what sailors usually do to beguile their toil. The boatswain[12]sung a sea-song, and the rest joined in chorus at stated intervals. When they were in the open sea, the sound was lost, their voices being dispersed into the air, but when running under a headland they came into any hollow and crescent-shaped bay, the sound became much louder, and the song of the boatswain was distinctly heard on shore. A deep valley here sloped down from the plain above, which received into it the sound, as into an instrument of music, and repeated with the most perfect imitation every note which was uttered. There could be heard the distinction between the dash of the oars, and the voices of the sailors; and a very pleasing sound it was; beginning on the sea, the duration of its echo upon shore was proportioned to its greater lateness in commencing.
Daphnis, understanding the nature of the echo, turned his attention solely to the sea, and was delighted with viewing the boat as it glided by the shore quicker than a bird could fly. At the same time he endeavoured to store up some of these strains in his memory, that he might play them on his pipe. Chloe, who had never, till now, heard what is called an echo, turned first to the sea, and listened to the boatmen, as they sang, and then looked round to the woods, in expectation of seeing those, who (as she thought) were singing in responsive chorus.
At length the rowers were out of sight, and all was silent, even in the valley; when Chloe inquired of Daphnis whether there was another sea behind the hill, and another boat, and other sailors, who all sang the same strain, and who all left off together. Daphnis sweetly smiled upon her, and gave her a still sweeter kiss, and putting the chaplet of violets on her head, proceeded to relate to her the legendary tale of Echo, upon condition of receiving ten kisses for his pains.
"There are various classes of the Nymphs, my love;—the Melians, who dwell among the ash-groves, the Dryads, who preside over the oaks, and the Elæan, who are guardians of the lakes. Echo[13]was the daughter of one of these Nymphs: as her mother was beautiful, so was she, but as her father was a mortal, she also was the same. She was brought up by the Nymphs, and was taught by the Muses to play upon the pipe, the flute, the lyre, and the harp, in short she was instructed in every species of music; so that when the maiden arrived at the flower of her youth, she danced with the Nymphs, and sang with the Muses. Attached to the state of maidenhood, she shunned the sight of all males, whether men or gods. This roused the indignation of Pan; jealous of her skill in music, and irritated by her refusal of his advances, the god inspired the shepherds and herdsmen with such frenzy, that they rushed upon her like so many hounds or wolves, tore her in pieces, and threw in every direction, her limbs, yet sending forth melodious sounds. Earth, in order to gratify the Nymphs, covered the maiden's limbs, but preserved to her the gift of song; and, by the will of the Muses, she still has the power of utterance, and, as when alive, still imitates all sounds; the voices of the gods—of men—of instruments—of animals, even of Pan himself when playing on his pipe. He, when he hears the sound, springs up, and rushes in pursuit over the mountains, not in order to bend her to his wishes, but to find out who can be this his hidden pupil."
When Daphnis had finished his tale, Chloe, instead of giving him ten kisses only,[14]bestowed upon him a thousand; and Echo repeated every kiss, as if in testimony that Daphnis had not added anything to her history, which was not true.
The heat of the weather daily increased, since spring was departing, and summer was approaching. The new delights, which this season brings, again returned to them. Daphnis swam in the rivers, and Chloe bathed in the fountains; he played upon the pipe, vying with the murmuring pine-trees; she sang, and emulated the nightingales with her melody: they chased the noisy locusts, they caught the chirping grasshoppers, they gathered posies, or shook down the fruit from the trees, and ate it. Sometimes, also, they lay side by side, covered with a goat-skin; but fearing lest passion might carry him away, Daphnis would not often permit her to display all her beauties; at which she in her innocence was astonished, but said nothing.
During the summer, Chloe had many suitors, who came to Dryas, and entreated him to bestow his daughter in marriage. Some brought with them a gift, and some made great promises. Nape, elated with hope, advised her husband to marry Chloe forthwith, and not to keep a maiden of her age any longer at home, lest, while pasturing her flocks, she should some day lose her virtue, and take to herself a partner upon the strength of a present of fruit or flowers;[15]the best course was to secure for her a good match, and to keep all the presents of her suitors for the infant son who had been lately born to them.
Dryas was sometimes almost persuaded by her arguments, for the gifts promised by each wooer, were far beyond what a mere shepherdess had reason to expect; but, on the other hand, he reflected[16]that the maiden was far too good for common lovers, and that, if ever her real parents should be discovered, she would be the means of making them rich for life.
For these reasons he declined giving a decided answer, and postponed from time to time, meanwhile, receiving presents of no small value. Chloe, as soon as she knew of this, was overwhelmed with grief; but for a considerable time concealed its cause from Daphnis, for fear of giving him pain. He, however, was earnest and persevering in his inquiries as to the subject of her sorrow, and evidently felt more miserable at having the truth concealed from him, than he would do if he knew it; accordingly she acquainted him with every circumstance—with the fact of the suitors being numerous and wealthy, with Nape's arguments for immediate marriage, with the hesitation of Dryas in refusing, and his resolution to postpone matters until the next vintage-season should begin.
Daphnis, almost beside himself at hearing her relation, sat down and wept bitterly, exclaiming, that, were he deprived of Chloe as a companion in the pastures, it would prove his death, and not his death only, for that his sheep would die upon losing such a master. After this burst of sorrow, recovering himself, he resolved to take courage, bethought him of endeavouring to persuade Chloe's father to receive him as her suitor, flattering himself that he should be far superior to the others, and would be preferred before them. There was one obstacle, which gave him uneasiness—Lamon was not rich: this reflection alone rendered his hopes of success slender. Nevertheless he determined to declare himself a suitor, and Chloe approved of his design.
He did not venture to declare his intention to Lamon, but taking courage, communicated his love to Myrtale, and spoke also of the marriage; she imparted everything to her husband at night. Lamon treated her intercession for Daphnis very harshly, and rebuked his wife for thinking of marrying to a mere shepherd's daughter, a youth who by the tokens found upon him, seemed to give promise of a much higher fortune, and who, should he ever find his relatives, would not only procure the freedom of his foster-father and mother, but also make them master and mistress of a much larger estate.
Myrtale, fearing lest the youth, blighted in his hopes of marrying Chloe, should make an attempt upon his own life, gave him a different reason for the opposition on her husband's part. "We are poor, my son, and we require a girl who will bring a portion with her; they, on the other hand, are rich, and expect rich suitors. However, go and persuade Chloe, and get her to prevail upon her father, not to look for too great a match, but to let you take her for a wife. The girl herself, I am sure, dearly loves you, and would certainly prefer sharing her bed with a handsome youth, however poor, than with an ugly ape, however rich."
Myrtale had no expectation that Dryas, who had so many richer suitors applying to him, would ever agree to the wishes of Daphnis, and considered herself to have offered very plausible arguments for disposing of the subject of the marriage.
Daphnis could not in justice find fault with what she said; but, as needy lovers generally do, he burst into tears; and again invoked the assistance of the Nymphs.
As he slept at night, they again appeared to him in the same dress and form, as they had done before, and the eldest of them thus addressed him.
"Chloe's marriage is under the superintendence of another deity: as for yourself we will furnish you with gifts which shall soften Dryas, and win his consent. The boat belonging to the young men of Methymna, whose vine-branch cable your goats devoured, was that same day carried far out to sea by the violence of the wind: at night the gale blowing from the sea, it was driven towards the land and dashed upon some rocks, there it was wrecked and everything in it lost. A purse of three thousand drachmas[17]was thrown ashore, and lies covered with seaweed near a dead dolphin, the putrid stench of which is so offensive that no one will approach it but hastens by as fast as he can. Go, take this money, and offer it to Dryas. It is enough at present to make you appear not absolutely poor; the time will come, when you will be very rich."
After speaking to this effect, they disappeared, and with them the darkness of the night; day dawned, and Daphnis leaping from his bed with joy, drove his goats to pasture with boisterous eagerness. After kissing Chloe, and paying his adorations in the grotto, he went down to the sea, pretending that it was his intention to bathe, and then walked along the sands close to the beach, seeking the three thousand drachmas. The search required little labour: the dolphin lay rotting in his path, and yielding a "most ancient and fish-like smell," which served to guide him on his way. He immediately approached it, and upon removing the weeds found the purse full of silver, which he put into his scrip; but before quitting the spot he uttered blessings upon the Nymphs and upon the ocean likewise; for although a shepherd he now thought the sea more delightful than the land, since it contributed to promote his marriage with Chloe.
Having got possession of this sum, he thought himself not merely richer than his neighbours, but the richest man upon the earth, and immediately hastened to Chloe, related his dream to her, shewed her the purse, and desired her to tend the herds till he came back: then, hurrying with all speed to Dryas, whom he found with Nape busied in beating out corn upon the threshing floor, he boldly entered upon the subject of the marriage.
"Give me Chloe for a wife. I can play well on the pipe; I can prune vines; I can plant; I can plough; and I can winnow. To my skill as a herdsman Chloe can bear witness: fifty she-goats were given to my charge, and their number is now doubled. Formerly we used to send our females to a neighbour's males; but now I have reared large and handsome he-goats of our own. I am young; and, as I have been your neighbour, you know me to have a blameless character. A goat, moreover, nursed me, as a ewe did Chloe. Being on so many points superior to other suitors, you will not find me their inferior in my gifts. They will offer their goats and their sheep, or a yoke of mangy oxen, or corn not fit to feed even dunghill fowls! I will give you three thousand drachmas!—only let no one know what I have offered—not even Lamon, my father!" So saying, he presented the money and threw his arms round the neck of Dryas.
Dryas and Nape were surprised at the sight of so much money, and not only promised to give Chloe in marriage, but also undertook to procure Lamon's consent to the match. Nape remained with Daphnis, and drove the oxen round the floor, while by means of the threshing-machine,[18]she separated the grains. Dryas, in the meantime, laid by the money carefully, in the place where the tokens were stored up, and hastened to Lamon's house upon the novel errand of asking[19]a husband for his daughter. He found Lamon and Myrtale measuring some barley, which had been just winnowed, and in very bad spirits at finding it yield little more than the seed which had been put into the ground, and endeavoured to console them by saying, that this season the complaint was general. He then asked Daphnis in marriage for Chloe. "Others," said he, "would willingly make me handsome presents, I however will accept nothing from you, but, on the contrary, will give you of my own substance. The two young people have been brought up together, and from feeding their flocks in company they have contracted a mutual fondness which cannot easily be dissolved, and they are now of sufficient age to consummate a marriage."
These and many more arguments he urged with all the eloquence of one who had received three thousand drachmas for his guerdon. Lamon was no longer able to plead his poverty, since Dryas entertained no objections upon that head; nor could he object to the age of Daphnis, for he was by this time a young man; but even now he did not explain the real cause of his unwillingness, which was, that Daphnis was of too good birth for such a match.
After remaining sometime silent he replied as follows. "You act justly, Dryas, in preferring your neighbours before strangers, and in not thinking wealth superior to honest poverty. May Pan and the Nymphs reward you with their friendship for this! I myself am eager for the marriage: I who am halfway on the road to old age, and begin to feel the want of assistance on my farm, should indeed be crazy, were I to refuse a connection with your family; this in itself would be a great advantage, and Chloe, too, is most desirable on account of her beauty, youth, and goodness. At the same time you must consider that I am only a serf on this estate:[20]I am owner of nothing here: it is necessary that my master should be acquainted with the business, and that we should have his consent. Suppose, then, that we defer the marriage till the autumn: persons from the city have informed me, that he intends coming hither at that time. They shall then be man and wife; for the present let them love each other like brother and sister. I will only farther say, friend Dryas, that you are seeking as son-in-law one who is superior to us all." He added no more, but embraced Dryas, and handed him some drink, it being mid-day and very hot, and wishing to shew him every mark of kindness, accompanied him part of his way home.
The last expression of Lamon was not lost upon Dryas, but as he went along he thought within himself,—"Who can Daphnis be? He was suckled by a she-goat, as if under the providential care of the deities themselves; he is very handsome, and bears no resemblance to the flat-nosed Lamon, or the bald-headed Myrtale; he is master, also, of three thousand drachmas,—few goatherds can call so many pears their own! Was he exposed by the same person who exposed Chloe? Did Lamon find him, as I found her? were tokens left with him like those which I found? If, Ο Pan, and ye Nymphs, it be so, whensoever he finds his own relatives, he may throw some light upon the secret history of Chloe also!"
Thus he proceeded, thinking and dreaming, until he reached the threshing-floor. There he found Daphnis on the tiptoe of expectation to learn his tidings. Dryas relieved his mind by addressing him as son-in-law; he promised him that the nuptials should take place in the autumn, and gave him his right hand in confirmation that Chloe should be the wife of no other.
Swifter than thought, without stopping to eat or drink, away ran Daphnis to Chloe. He found her engaged in milking and making cheese, told her the good news of their approaching wedding, kissed her openly, as though she were already his wife, and not by stealth as he used to do, and began to assist her in her work, by milking the goats and ewes into the pails, setting the cheeses upon the racks,[21]and placing the lambs and kids under their dams. When their labours were concluded, they washed themselves, ate and drank, and then went out in search of some ripe fruit. Of this there was abundance, it being the most fruitful season of the year. There were pears, both wild and cultivated, and all sorts of apples, some of which were lying on the ground, and some still hanging upon the branches. Those upon the ground smelt sweeter; those upon the boughs were brighter in colour; the former were as fragrant as new wine, the latter shone like gold. One tree had been entirely stripped; its branches were bare; it had neither leaves nor fruit, except a single apple, which grew upon the top of the highest branch. This apple was very large and beautiful, and its solitary perfume surpassed the united fragrance of many others. The gatherer had either been afraid of climbing to the summit of the tree, or he had preserved this beautiful fruit for some love-sick shepherd. Daphnis, as soon as he espied it, began to climb the tree, giving no heed to Chloe, who endeavoured to prevent him, and who finding herself disregarded hurried away pettishly after her herds. Daphnis climbed the tree, succeeded in seizing the apple, carried it as a present to Chloe, and presented it to her, with these words:—"Maiden, this fruit was produced and cherished by the beauteous hours; the sun matured it with his beams, and fortune has preserved it; unless blind, I could not leave it either to fall on the ground, where cattle, as they grazed, might tread on it, or where the snake might crawl over it, and defile it with his slime; or where time might rot it as it lay; still less could I do this when it had been seen and praised by you. Venus received an apple as the prize of beauty; the same prize I adjudge to you. Paris and I are equally fitted to be umpires: he was a shepherd, I am a goatherd."
With these words he placed the apple in her bosom, and she, upon his drawing near, bestowed on him a kiss; so that Daphnis did not repent of having ventured to climb[22]to such a height; for the kiss which he received was more precious to him than a golden apple.