At this moment they were delighted with listening to a ring-dove

in the neighbouring wood, and upon Chloe's inquiring what the bird

meant by its note, Daphnis told her the legend, which was commonly

current:--"There was a maiden, my love, who, like yourself, was

beautiful; like yourself, she tended large herds of cattle; and, like

yourself, she was in the flower of youth. She sang sweetly;--so

sweetly, that the herds were delighted with her song, and needed

neither the crook nor the goad to manage them; they obeyed her voice;

and remaining near listened to the maid, as she sat under the shade of

the pine crowned with a garland of its leaves, and singing the praises

of Pan,[31] and the nymph Pitys. A youth, who pastured his herds at a

little distance, and who was handsome, and fond as herself of melody,

vied with her in singing; as he was a man, his tones were deeper, but

as he was young, they were very sweet. He sang, and charmed away eight

of her best cows to his own pastures. The maiden was mortified at the

loss of her cattle, and at being so much surpassed in song; and, in her

despair, prayed the gods to convert her into a bird before she reached

her home. The gods assented to her prayer, and metamorphosed her into

a bird; under which form, as of old, she frequents the mountains, and

delights in warbling. Her note bespeaks her misfortune, for she is

calling her wandering cows."

Such were the delights of summer.--Autumn was now advanced, and the

black grapes were ripening; when some pirates of Tyre, in a light

Carian bark,[32] that they might not appear to be foreigners, touched

at that coast and came on shore, armed with coats of mail and swords,

and plundered everything which fell in their way. They carried off

fragrant wine,[33] corn in great plenty, honey in the comb. They also

drove off some of Dorco's oxen, and seized Daphnis, who was musing

in a melancholy mood, and rambling alone by the sea-shore. For Chloe

being but young, was afraid of the insults of some of the saucy

shepherds, and therefore had not led out her flock so early from the

fold of Dryas. When the pirates saw this stout and handsome youth,

who, they knew, would be a prize of greater value than the plunder of

the fields, they took no more trouble about the goats, not did they

proceed farther, but carried off the unlucky Daphnis to their vessel,

weeping as he was hurried along, at a loss what to do, and calling

loudly upon Chloe. When they had put him on board, they slipped their

cable, and rowed from the shore. Chloe, in the mean time, who was still

driving her flock, and carrying in her hand a new pipe as a present for

Daphnis, when she saw the goats running about in confusion, and heard

Daphnis calling out to her every moment in a louder voice, quitted her

sheep, threw down the pipe, and ran to Dorco beseeching him to assist

her.--He had been severely wounded by the pirates, and was lying upon

the ground still breathing, the blood flowing from him in streams. At

the sight of Chloe, reviving a little owing to the force of his former

love, he exclaimed, "I shall shortly be no more, dear Chloe; I fought

in defence of my oxen, and some of the rascally pirates have beaten me

as they would have done an ox. Save your beloved Daphnis, revenge me,

and destroy them. I have taught my cows to follow the sound of this

pipe, and to obey its melody, even if they be feeding at the greatest

distance. Take this pipe; breathe in it those notes, in which I once

instructed Daphnis, and in which Daphnis instructed you. Do this, and

leave the issue to the pipe and the cows. Moreover I make you a present

of the pipe; with it I have obtained the prize from many a shepherd and

many a herdsman. In return give me but one kiss, while I yet live; and

when I am dead, shed a tear over me: and when you see another tending

my flocks, remember Dorco."

Here he ceased, gave her a last kiss, and with the kiss resigned his

breath. Chloe put the pipe to her lips, and blew with all her might.

The cows began to low at hearing the well-known note, and leaped all at

once into the sea. As they all plunged from the same side, and caused

a mighty chasm in the waters the vessel lurched, the waves closed over

it, and it sank. The crew and Daphnis fell into the sea, but they had

not equal chances for preservation. The pirates were encumbered with

their swords, scaled breast-plates, and greaves reaching to mid-leg:

whereas Daphnis, who had been feeding his flocks in the plains, had

not even his sandals on; and the weather being still very warm, he

was half-naked. All swam for a little time, but their armour soon sunk

the foreigners to the bottom. Daphnis easily threw off the garments

which remained to encumber him, but, accustomed to swim only in

rivers, buoyed himself up with great difficulty: at length, taught by

necessity, he struck forward between two of the cows, grasped a horn of

each of them, and was carried along as securely and as easily, as if

he had been riding in his own wain. Oxen, be it observed, are better

swimmers than men, or indeed than any animals, except aquatic birds and

fish, nor are they in any danger of drowning unless their hoofs become

softened by the water. The fact of many places being still called

_Ox-fords_,[34] will bear out the truth of my assertion.

Thus was Daphnis delivered from two perils--from the pirates and from

shipwreck, and in a manner beyond all expectation. When he reached the

shore, he found Chloe smiling through her tears: he fell on her bosom,

and inquired, what had led her to play that particular tune.--She

related everything which had occurred--her running to Dorco--the habit

of his cows--HIS ordering her to pipe that tune, and finally his death,

but through a feeling of shame she said nothing of the kiss.

They now determined to pay the last honours to their benefactor;

accordingly they came with the neighbours and relatives of the

deceased, and buried him. They then threw up over his grave a large

pile of earth, and planted about it various trees, and suspended

over it[35] the emblems of their calling; in addition to which they

poured libations of milk and of juice expressed from the grapes, and

broke many pastoral pipes. Mournful lowings of the cattle were heard,

accompanied with unwonted and disorderly movements, which the shepherds

believed to be lamentations and tokens of sorrow on the part of the

herd for their departed herdsman.[36]

After the funeral of Dorco, Chloe led Daphnis to the grotto of the

Nymphs, where she washed him; and then, for the first time in his

presence, bathed her own person, fair and radiant with beauty, and

needing no bath to set off its comeliness. Then, after gathering the

flowers which the season afforded, they crowned the statues with

garlands, and suspended Dorco's pipe as a votive offering to the

Nymphs. Having done this they returned to look for their flocks, which

they found lying on the ground neither feeding nor bleating, but

looking about, as if waiting in suspense for their re-appearance. When

they came in view of them, and called to them in their usual manner,

and sounded their pipes, the sheep got up, and began to feed, while the

goats skipped about, and bleated as if exulting at the safety of their

herdsman. But Daphnis could not attune his soul to joy; after seeing

Chloe naked, and her formerly concealed beauties unveiled, he felt an

inward pain as though preyed upon by poison. His breath went and came

as though he were flying from some pursuer; and then it failed, as

though he were exhausted with running. Chloe had come from the bath

with redoubled charms, and the bath was thus more fatal to Daphnis

than the ocean. As for himself, he attributed his feelings to being,

in fancy, still among the thieves,[37]--rustic as he was, and as yet

ignorant of the thievish tricks of love.

[Footnote 1: Compare the description of the Grotto of the Nymphs in

Ithaca. Odys. B. xiii.

----"A pleasant cave

Umbrageous, to the Nymphs devoted, nam'd

The Naiads--Beakers in that cave and jars

Of stone are found; bees lodge their honey there;

And there on slender spindles of the rock

The nymphs of rivers weave their wondrous robes,

Perennial springs rise in it."--Cowper.

]

[Footnote 2:

Kένταυρoς ζαμενής,

ἀγᾶνᾳ χλαρὸν γελάσσαις ὀφρύῖ.--Pindar.

]

[Footnote 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.]

[Footnote 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.]

[Footnote 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.]

[Footnote 6: See Theoc. Idyl. 1. 52.--

"Αὐτὰρ ὃy' ανθερίκίσσι καλάν πλέκει ἀκριδοθήκαv."

]

[Footnote 7: σπουδὴν ἀνέπλaσε.]

[Footnote 8: ἐδίωκε τὸν διῶκοντα.]

[Footnote 9: ταινιάν--either a head-band or breast-band.]

[Footnote 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.]

[Footnote 11:

----"οῖστροπληξ δ' ἐγὼ

μάστιγι θείᾳ γῆν πρὸ γῆς ελαύνομαι."

Æsch. P. V. 681. See also Virg. G. iii. 145-151.

]

[Footnote 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 disparibus _septem_ compacta cicutis

Fistula."--Virg. Ec. ii. 36.

]

[Footnote 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. ]

[Footnote 14: ἔχαιρε--ἔχαιρεν.]

[Footnote 15: oὐδὲν ἔριφων διαφέρει.]

[Footnote 16: ἄρτoς ὀβελίας--Bread baked or toasted on a spit.]

[Footnote 17:

"Alba ligustra cadunt, vaccinia nigra leguntur."

Virg. Ec. ii. 18.

]

[Footnote 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 ἐφιλασεν

Τῶν ὤτων καθελοῖσ'."--Idyl. v. 135.

]

[Footnote 19: διαυγεῖς. Another reading is,--καθάπερ βοὸς,--equivalent

to the βoῶπις of Homer. Sappho uses the same comparison.]

[Footnote 20:

"But love first learned in a lady's eyes,

Lives not alone immured in the brain.

. . . . . .

It adds a precious _seeing to the eye_."--Shaks.

]

[Footnote 21:

"Αλλὰ καμμὲν γλῶσσ' ἔαγ', ἄν δἐ λεπτὸν

Αὐτίκα χρῶ πῦρ ὺποδεδρόμακεν,

Όμμάτεσσιν δ' σὐδὲν ὄρημι, βομβεῦσιν δ' ακοαί μοι·

Καδ' δ' ἱδρὠς ψυχρὸς χεἐται τρόμος δὲ

Πᾶσαν αἱρεῖ· χρωροτέρη δὲ ποίας

Έμμί· τεθνᾶναι δ' ὀλίγου δἐοισα

Φαίνομαι ἄπνους."--Sappho.

]

[Footnote 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.]

[Footnote 23:

"Εσσατο δ' ἔκτοσθε' ῥινὸν πoλιθῖο λύκοιο

Κρατὶ 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.]

[Footnote 24: "odora canum vis."--Virg. Æn. iv. 132.]

[Footnote 25:

"Flush'd by the spirit of the genial year,

Now from the virgin's cheeks, a fresher bloom

Shoots, less and less, the live carnation round;

Her lips blush deeper sweets; she breathes of youth;

The shining moisture swells into her eyes

In brighter flow; her wishing bosom heaves

With palpitation wild; kind tumults seize

Her veins, and all her yielding soul is love.

From the keen gaze her lover turns away

Full of the dear ecstatic power, and sick

With sighing languishment."--Thomson.

]

[Footnote 26:

"A noise like that of a hidden brook

In the leafy month of June,

That to the sleeping woods all night

Singeth a quiet tune."--Coleridge.

]

[Footnote 27:

"Αδύ τι τὸ ψιθύρισμα, καὶ ἁ πίτυς αἰπόλε, τήνα,

Ἃ ποτὶ ταῖς παγαῖσi μελίσδεται."--Theoc. Idyll. i. 1.

]

[Footnote 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.

]

[Footnote 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.

]

[Footnote 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.]

[Footnote 31:

.... "Pan

Pinea 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.]

[Footnote 32: ἡμιoλία, a light vessel with one and a half banks of

oars.]

[Footnote 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.]

[Footnote 34: In the P. V. of Æschylus, l. 732, Prometheus tells Io;

"Ἔσται δὲ θνητοΐς εἰσαεὶ λόγος μέγας

Tῆς σῆς πορείας, Βόσπορος δ' ἐπώνυμος

Κεκλήσεται."

The true etymology however is to be found in the signification of βοῦς

and ἵππος--which in composition means size.]

[Footnote 35: See ch. 2.]

[Footnote 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--"

]

[Footnote 37: παρὰ τοῖς λησταὶς, ... τὸ ἔρωτος ληστήριον--]

BOOK II.

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, am Philetas. 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

than Saturn, ay, older than Time himself. 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 to LOVE, 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 this LOVE could 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 that _they_ were not under

his jurisdiction. This decision had no effect on the Methymnæans, who

flew into a rage, and seizing Daphnis, were preparing to bind him.

The villagers irritated at such behaviour, fell upon them as thick

as starlings or rooks, and rescued Daphnis, who now began to fight

in his own defence. In a very short time the Mitlyenæans, by dint of

their clubs, put the strangers to flight, and did not desist from the

pursuit, till they had driven them into a different quarter of the

island.

While they were engaged in the pursuit, Chloe led Daphnis gently by

the hand to the grotto of the Nymphs; there she washed the blood from

his face and nostrils, and taking a slice of bread and cheese from

her scrip, gave it him to eat. After she had thus refreshed him, she

impressed a honeyed kiss with her tender lips.

So near was Daphnis getting into serious trouble; but the affair did

not end here. The Methymnæans reached their own city with much pain

and difficulty; for instead of sailing they had to travel on foot, and

instead of every luxury, and convenience, they had nothing but bruises

and wounds for their comfort. Immediately upon their arrival at home,

they called an assembly of their fellow townsmen, and intreated them to

take up arms to avenge their cause, which they represented in their own

way, altogether concealing the real truth of the matter, for fear of

being laughed at for having been so soundly beaten by a few shepherds.

They accused the people of Mitylene of having seized their boat, as

if it belonged to an enemy, and of plundering it of all its contents.

Their wounds, which they exhibited, gained them belief among their

countrymen, who resolved to avenge the cause of the young men, and

more particularly as they belonged to the first families in the place.

Accordingly they resolved to begin the war without the usual forms of

proclamation, and ordered their naval commander to launch ten vessels

immediately, and ravage the coasts of the enemy. As the winter was

coming on they did not think it safe to hazard a larger fleet.

Early the very next day he put to sea; and employing his soldiers as

rowers, steered his course to the shores of Mitylene. Here he seized

numbers of cattle, a great quantity of corn and wine, (the vintage

being lately ended,) together with the labourers who were still at work

there. Thus plundering as they went, they landed at last on the estate

where Daphnis and Chloe resided, and carried off whatever came to hand.

Daphnis was not then tending his goats, but had gone to the wood, to

cut green branches for the winter fodder of his kids. Looking down from

the woods, he saw these ravages; and immediately hid himself in the

hollow of a decayed beech tree. Chloe happened to be with the flocks;

she fled in affright to the grotto of the Nymphs: and the invaders

pursued her. Here she intreated them, if they had any respect to the

deities of the place, to spare her and her flocks; but her prayers were

of no avail; for the ravagers, after offering many insults to the

statues of the goddesses, drove off the flocks, and hurried Chloe along

with them, as if she had been one of her own goats or sheep, striking

her ever and anon with vine twigs.

Their vessels being now filled with plunder of all kinds, the

Methymnæans thought it advisable not to prosecute their voyage farther,

but to return home, more especially as they were apprehensive of the

winter storms, and of an attack from the inhabitants. Accordingly they

put about; but, as there was no wind, they had to labour at their oars.

Daphnis, (when all was quiet) came down to the plain, the usual place

for pasturing their flocks, but not a goat, nor a sheep was to be seen,

nor was Chloe herself there: when he saw the whole place deserted,

and found Chloe's pipe thrown upon the ground, he burst into loud and

bitter lamentations:--he ran to the beech tree, which had been their

usual seat, and then to the ocean, to try if he could descry her, he

searched for her in the grotto, whither she had fled, and whence she

had been dragged away. Here, at last, he threw himself on the ground

in despair, and exclaimed against the Nymphs, as the deserters of his

Chloe.

"Chloe has been torn away from you, ye Nymphs, and yet ye could

endure to see it! she who has woven so many garlands for you, who has

poured so many libations of new milk to you, and whose pipe is here

suspended as an offering to you! Never did a wolf carry off a single

goat of mine, but marauders have now carried away all my flock, and

their mistress with them.--My goats will be flayed, my sheep will be

sacrificed, and my Chloe will henceforth be confined within a city! how

shall I venture to return to my father and mother without my goats,

and without my Chloe?--I, who shall appear a deserter of my charge! I

have no more flocks to tend, so here will I lie, till death take me,

or the enemy again lay hold of me. Ah! my Chloe, do you share in my

sufferings?--do you still remember these plains, these Nymphs and me;

or are you consoled by having the sheep and goats for your companions

in captivity?"

Thus did Daphnis vent his grief, till weary with weeping and lamenting

he fell into a deep sleep. While slumbering, the three Nymphs appeared

to stand before him; they were tall and beautiful, half-naked and

without sandals; their hair flowed loose over their shoulders, and

indeed in every respect they resembled their statues in the grotto. At

first they shewed signs of commiseration for Daphnis, and, presently,

the eldest of them addressed him in these consolatory words:--

"Do not accuse us, Daphnis; Chloe is an object of deeper anxiety to us,

than she is even to yourself. We had compassion on her when she was

an infant; when she was exposed in this grot, we adopted her and bred

her up. She is not Lamon's daughter, nor do Lamon's fields or herds in

any part belong to her. We have at this time been providing for her

safety, so that she shall not be taken to Methymne as a slave, nor be

numbered among the spoils. We have intreated Pan, (whose statue stands

beneath yonder pine, and whom you have never honoured even with a bunch

of flowers) to come forward as Chloe's champion, for he is more used

to warfare than we are, and has often quitted his rural groves to join

in the din of battle. He is on Chloe's side, and he will be found no

despicable enemy by the Methymnæans. Be not uneasy then, nor perplex

yourself; arise, shew yourself to Lamon and Myrtale, who have thrown

themselves on the earth in despair, under the idea that you too are

carried off by the enemy. To-morrow Chloe and her flocks shall return,

when you shall tend them together, and together shall play upon your

pipe.--Leave your future fates to the care of Love."

After these words and vision in his dream, Daphnis sprang up, and,

while his eyes were filled with tears, partly of grief and partly of

joy, he paid his adorations to the statues of the Nymphs, and vowed,

that upon Chloe's safe return he would sacrifice a she-goat (the best

of his herd) to the protecting goddesses. Then he hastened to the

pine, beneath whose shade stood the statue of Pan. The legs of the

rural god were those of the goat, and he had a horned forehead; in one

hand he held a pipe, with the other he grasped a goat, which was in

the attitude of bounding. Daphnis adored his statue likewise, prayed

on behalf of Chloe, and vowed to sacrifice a he-goat for her safety.

Scarcely could he cease from his tears and intreaties by sun-set, when

taking up the green fodder which he had been cutting, he returned to

his home, where his presence dispelled Lamon's grief and filled him

with joy, After taking some refreshment he retired to rest; but his

sleep was not even then without tears. In his slumbers he poured forth

prayers to the Nymphs to bless him with another vision, and sighed for

the return of day, when his Chloe was to be restored.--Of all nights

this appeared to him the longest.--During its continuance the following

events took place:--

When the Methymnæan commander had rowed somewhat more than a mile, he

wished to afford his men some rest, wearied as they were with their

past exertions. At length he espied a promontory, which projected

into the sea in a semicircular form, affording a harbour more calm

and secure than even a regular port. Here he anchored his fleet,

keeping his vessels at a distance from the shore, that they might not

be exposed to any attack from the inhabitants, while his men indulged

themselves at their ease and in all security. The crews having plenty

of all manner of provision among their plunder, eat and drank and gave

themselves up to joy, as if they had been celebrating a festival for

victory. The day was closing; and their merriment was being prolonged

to night, when suddenly all the earth appeared in a blaze; and the

dash of oars was heard, as if a mighty fleet were approaching.[9] They

called upon their commander to arm himself: they shouted to each other;

some fancied that they were wounded; others that they saw the bodies

of the slain before their eyes. It appeared like a night engagement

against an invisible enemy.

A day of greater terror succeeded to the darkness. The goats belonging

to Daphnis, appeared with branches full of ivy berries on their

horns: the rams and ewes, which had been taken with Chloe, instead of

bleating, howled like wolves. Their mistress was seen to have a garland

of pine-leaves round her head. The sea also had its marvels. The

anchors stuck fast in the mud, and could not be drawn up: when the men

dipped their oars in order to row, they were shattered in pieces. The

dolphins leaped from the sea, and with their tails broke the planks of

the vessels. From the top of the rock behind the promontory the sound

of a pipe was heard: but it did not, like the pipe, delight the ear

with dulcet sounds, but terrified like the harsh blast of a trumpet.

The men of Methymna were confounded; they seized their arms, and called

out to their enemies who were invisible; they prayed for the return of

night, which might bring a truce to their terrors.

To all those who were capable of reflection, it was evident, that

these phantasms and sounds proceeded from Pan, who must have conceived

some cause of indignation against them: but what the cause could be,

they were at a loss to conjecture, for they had not plundered any

thing which was sacred to the god. About the middle of the day their

commander (not without the intervention of the god) fell into a deep

sleep, when Pan appeared to him and addressed him thus:

"Ο most abandoned, most impious of men, to what lengths has your

madness driven you! The fields, which are dear to me, ye have filled

with the tumults of war: the herds and the flocks, which were my

peculiar care, ye have taken as plunder. Ye have dragged a virgin

from the altar, whom Cupid had reserved in order to adorn a Tale of

Love. Ye regarded not the Nymphs, who beheld your deeds, nor even the

mighty Pan. Never shall ye reach Methymna, sailing with these spoils,

nor shall yourselves escape the terrors of the pipe which has thus

confounded you. Unless ye immediately give back Chloe to the Nymphs,

and restore her goats and sheep, I will submerge you and ye shall

become food for fishes. Bestir yourselves, therefore, land both her and

them, I will guide your course by sea, and hers by land."

Bryaxis (for such was the commander's name) awoke from his dream,

and immediately ordered the captain of every vessel to search among

his prisoners for Chloe. They soon found her, for she was sitting

still crowned with pine-leaves, and brought her before him. Bryaxis

regarded the ornament on her head as a proof and confirmation of what

he had seen in the vision, and without delay took her on board his

own vessel,[10] and conveyed her safe to the shore. No sooner had she

landed than the sound of the pipe was again heard from the rock: but

it was no longer dreadful like the blast of the war trumpet: on the

contrary it was sweet and pastoral in tone, as when the shepherd is

leading out his flock to feed. The sheep ran down the gangway,[11]

without their horny hoofs slipping. The goats, used to steep places,

proceeded still more venturesomely. Upon reaching the shore the flocks

formed themselves in a ring around Chloe, like a company of dancers,

skipping and bleating and exhibiting every symptom of joy; while the

sheep and goats and oxen belonging to the other shepherds remained

quiet in the holds of the vessels, as if knowing that the pipe, which

sounded, was not intended to summon them. While every one was struck

with astonishment, and celebrated the power of Pan, still stranger

sights appeared both by sea and land.

Before the crews had time to heave their anchors, the ships of

themselves began to make sail, and a dolphin, which leaped and played

on the waves, swam before the admiral's ship as guide. On the other

hand Chloe's goats and sheep were led by most ravishing music of the

pipe, which continued its notes, though the player was invisible: sheep

and goats continued to graze and pace gently onward listening with

delight to the melody.

It was the time of evening-pasture, when Daphnis from the summit of a

rock espied his Chloe and her flocks. Ο Pan! Ο ye Nymphs! he shouted

in rapture, and hurrying down into the plain threw himself into

Chloe's arms, fainted, and fell to the ground. The kisses and soothing

embraces of the maiden with some difficulty restored him to his

senses, after which he proceeded to their favourite beech-tree, under

the shade of which he sat down, and inquired how Chloe had escaped

from so many enemies. She related everything which had happened--the

appearance of the ivy around the goats' horns--the wolfish howling

of the sheep--the pine garland encircling her own temples--the blaze

of fire on the land--the unwonted noise at sea--the two discordant

notes of the pipe--that of war and that of peace--the terrors of the

night--and lastly, how the melody guided her hither, through fields

and over plains to which she was a stranger. Upon hearing this, Daphnis

recognized the vision of the Nymphs, and the influence of Pan, and

in his turn, he gave Chloe an account of all which he had seen and

heard. He informed her how when ready to destroy himself, he had been

preserved through the intervention of the Nymphs.

He then sent Chloe to summon Dryas and Lamon with their servants and to

desire them to bring every requisite for a sacrifice, while he in the

mean time took the choicest of his she-goats, crowned it with ivy (just

as it had appeared to the enemy on board of ship) poured milk between

its horns, and sacrificed it to the Nymphs. Then he hung it up and

flayed it, and suspended its skin as an offering to them.

Chloe now arrived with Lamon and the servants. A fire was immediately

kindled, upon which part of the goat's flesh was boiled and part of

it roasted. Daphnis offered the first portions to the Nymphs, and

poured out to them a libation of new must; he then piled some leaves

into the form of couches, reclined at his ease upon one of them, and

gave himself up to good cheer and mirth: but at the same time kept a

watchful eye on his sheep for fear a wolf should effect what the enemy

had been foiled in doing. After this the party sang the praises of the

Nymphs in songs, which had been indited by the shepherds of by-gone

days. They slept in the field that night, and in the morning remembered

Pan. The leader of the goats was selected from the herd; a chaplet of

pine-leaves was bound round his horns, and he was led to the statue,

which stood beneath the pine; when after pouring over him a libation of

wine,[12] carefully avoiding all ominous expressions, the victim was

slain, suspended, and flayed. The flesh, part of which was roasted and

part boiled, was spread out upon some dry leaves in the meadow. The

skin with the horns was hung up on the tree hard by the statue of the

god--a pastoral offering to a pastoral deity. A first portion also of

the flesh was offered, and libations poured to him from the largest

goblet. Chloe sang; while Daphnis piped.

Having discharged their religious rites, they were reclining on the

grass and feasting, when Philetas the herdsman accidentally came

by, bringing with him some garlands, and vine-branches, laden with

their clusters, as offerings to Pan. Tityrus, his youngest son, a

golden-haired, blue-eyed, fair and sportive boy followed him. At the

sight of Philetas, Daphnis and Chloe sprang from their grassy couch,

assisted in crowning Pan, and in suspending the clusters to the

tree, and then made Philetas seat himself by them, and join in their

carousal. Very soon, as old men do when their clay is moistened,[13]

they began to talk of their youthful adventures, of the flocks which

they had fed, of incursions of marauders, which they had escaped in the

days when they were young. One prided himself on having slain a wolf:

another boasted, that in piping he was second to Pan alone.--This was

the boast of Philetas.

Daphnis and Chloe used urgent entreaties that he would teach them

the art, and that he would play on the pipe at the festival of that

deity, who delights in its melody. The old man complained that age had

shortened his powers of breath, but complied with their request, and

took up the pipe of Daphnis. It was a pipe too small to do justice to

so great an art; being suited only for a boy. Accordingly he despatched

Tityrus to bring his own pipe from the cottage, which was rather more

than a mile off. The boy threw aside his cloak,[14] and darted off like

a young fawn. Lamon, in the mean time, promised to amuse them with the

legend of the Syrinx,[15] (or pipe) which he had heard from a Sicilian

shepherd, who received a he-goat and a pipe as the price of his song.

"This pipe was not formerly what it is now, an instrument of music:

it was once a maiden of beautiful form, and melodious voice. She fed

her flocks, she sported with the Nymphs, and the sound of her voice

was sweet as it is now. Pan beheld the maiden feeding her flocks,

disporting herself, and singing. He approached her, and endeavoured

to win her to his will, promising her as an enticement that all her

she-goats should bear two kids at a birth. The maiden laughed at his

suit, and replied that she would never think of accepting as a lover,

one who was neither man nor goat, but a compound half of each.--Pan was

preparing to offer violence: the maiden fled from him, and when weary

with running, hid herself among the reeds of a lake and disappeared.

Her pursuer in a rage cut the reeds, but finding no damsel there,

and perceiving what had taken place, he in memory of her formed this

instrument. Compacting with wax unequal reeds in order to shew how the

course of their love had not run smooth.[16]--Thus she, who was once a

beauteous maiden, is now a musical pipe: the instrument inheriting her

name."

While Philetas was commending Lamon's legend, which, he said, was more

pleasing than any song, Tityrus appeared with his father's pipe, a

large instrument formed of the largest reeds, and ornamented with brass

over the junctures of the wax. A person might have imagined it to be

the very pipe whose reeds had been first united by Pan. Philetas rose

up, placed himself upon a seat in an erect posture, and began to try

whether the reeds were in good order: he found the air pass through

them freely, and then with as much energy as if he had been in the

prime of youth, he blew a note so vigorous and full, that it appeared

like a band of pipers playing in concert. By degrees he moderated the

vehemence of his tones, and turned them into a softer strain. He ran

through all the variations of pastoral melody; he played the tune,

which the oxen obey, that which attracts the goats, that in which the

sheep delight. The notes for the sheep were sweet, those for the oxen

deep, those for the goats were shrill. In short, his single pipe could

express the tones of every pipe which is played upon.

Those present lay listening in silent delight; when Dryas rose up, and

desired Philetas to strike up the Bacchanalian tune. Philetas obeyed,

and Dryas began[17] the vintage-dance, in which he represented the

plucking of the grapes, the carrying of the baskets,--the treading

of the clusters, the filling of the casks, and the drinking of the

new-made wine. All this Dryas imitated so closely and admirably in

his pantomimic dance, that the spectator might fancy the wines, the

wine-press, and the casks to be actually before him, and that Dryas was

drinking in reality.

Each of the three old men had now severally distinguished himself.

Dryas, in his delight gave Daphnis and Chloe a kiss, who immediately

sprang from their seats, and began to dance a ballet representative

of Lamon's fable. Daphnis assumed the character of Pan, and Chloe

that of Syrinx. While he endeavoured to entice her to his embraces,

she smiled in scorn at his attempts. He pursued her, and ran upon his

tiptoes in imitation of the cloven feet of the god: while she making a

semblance of exhaustion, at last hid herself in the wood, making it a

substitute for reedy lake. Upon losing sight of her, Daphnis seizing

the large pipe of Philetas, breathed into it a mournful strain as of

one who loves; then a love-sick strain as of one who pleads; lastly and

recalling strain, as of one who seeks her whom he has lost.

Philetas himself was astonished, and ran and embraced the youth and

kissed him: and with a prayer, that Daphnis might transmit the pipe

to as worthy a successor, bestowed it on him as a gift. The youth

suspended his own pipe as an offering to Pan, kissed Chloe with as much

ardour as if she had really been lost and found again, and led his

flocks home by the sound of his new instrument. Chloe also (as night

was coming on) conducted her sheep homeward to the music of her pipe.

The goats kept close by the sheep, as Daphnis kept close by Chloe.

In this manner did they enjoy each other's company, till night-fall,

when they agreed to meet earlier at the pasture the next morning,

an arrangement which they punctually fulfilled. As soon as the day

dawned, they were in the fields. They paid their adorations to the

Nymphs first, and then to Pan, afterwards retiring from their devotions

to their seat under the shade of the oak, where they played their

accustomed melodies. They interchanged kisses and embraces, and lay

down side-by-side, but this was all; then rising, they bethought them

of their meal, at which they partook of milk and wine.

Becoming gradually warmed and emboldened by all this they began to

enter into an amorous revelry, and to swear perpetual affection and

fidelity. Daphnis advanced to the sacred pine, and called Pan to

witness, that he would never live apart from his Chloe--no--not for

the space of a single day. Chloe entered the Grotto, and swore by the

Nymphs, that she would live and die with Daphnis: and in the simplicity

of her heart, upon coming out, she required that Daphnis should bind

himself by a second oath; "for," (said the maiden) "my dear Daphnis,

Pan himself, by whom you swore, is a lover, and yet unfaithful. He

loved Pitys, he loved Syrinx, and yet he never ceases from pestering

the Dryads with his addresses, or from causing annoyance to the

Epimelian Nymphs, the guardians of our herds. He who breaks his own

vows will hardly punish you, even if you should attach yourself to more

damsels than there are reeds in this pipe. Come, dearest Daphnis, you

must swear by this herd and by the she-goat, which nursed you, that,

while Chloe is faithful to you, you will never desert her; on the other

hand if Chloe should ever do despite to you, and to the Nymphs--fly

from her--detest her--kill her, as you would kill a wolf."

Daphnis, delighted even at her mistrust, which shewed the warmth of

her affection, placed himself in the midst of his herd, and taking

hold of a she-goat with one hand, and a he-goat with the other, swore

to be true to Chloe, while she was true to him; and that if she should

ever prefer another before him, he would put an end not to her but to

himself.

Chloe was happy:--for she believed him with all the simplicity of a

girl, and of a shepherdess, and of one who thought that the sheep and

the goats were the fitting and peculiar deities of those who tended

them.

[Footnote 1:

"Hic innocentis pocula Lesbii

Duces sub umbrâ; nec Semeleïus

Cum Marte confundet Thyoneus

Prœlia."--Hor. I. Od. xvii. 21.

"The Lesbian wine would seem to have possessed a delicious flavour; for

it is said to have deserved the name of Ambrosia rather than of wine,

and to have been like nectar when old. In Athenæus this wine is called

οἰνάριον, _vinulum_, 'the little wine,' to which Bacchus gave ἀτέλειαν,

an innocence and immunity from drunkenness. Horace terms the Lesbian

an innocent or unintoxicating wine; but it was the prevailing opinion

among the ancients, that all sweet wines were less injurious to the

head, and less apt to cause intoxication, than strong dry wines. By

Pliny, however, the growths of Chios and Thasos are placed before the

Lesbian, which he affirms had naturally a saltish taste."--Henderson's

Hist. of Ancient and Modern Wines, p. 77.]

[Footnote 2: When the grapes were ripe, (σταφυλή) the bunches were

gathered, any which remained unripe (ὅμφαξ) were carefully removed,

and the rest carried from the vineyard in deep baskets (ἀρρίχοι)

to be poured into a vat (ληνός) in which they were trodden by men,

who had the lower part of their bodies naked, except that they wore

drawers. When sufficiently trodden, the grapes were subjected to the

more powerful pressure of a thick and heavy beam (for which λίθος,

in Longus, seems the substitute), for the purpose of obtaining all

the juice yet remaining in them. Vine branches were very frequently

employed as torches.--Vide Scholiast on Aristoph. Lys. 291.]

[Footnote 3: Compare the description of the garden in Achilles Tatius,

1. 15, and that of Virgil's "senex Corycius." G. iv, 125-146.]

[Footnote 4:

.... Love's heralds should be thoughts,

Which ten times faster glide than the sun-beams.

Romeo and Juliet.

]

[Footnote 5:

Oἶoν ἄρχει βρέφος ὀυρανοῦ καὶ γῆς, καὶ θαλάττης.

Achilles Tatius.

"At his sight the sun hath turned;

Neptune on the waters burned;

Hell hath felt a greater heat;

Jove himself forsook his seat;

From the centre to the sky

Are his trophies reared high."

Ben Jonson, Hue and Cry after Cupid.

See also the fine chorus in the Antigone, 781-790.]

[Footnote 6: The power of love over the brute creation.--Virg. G. iii.

211-257.]

[Footnote 7: φίλημα, καὶ περιβολή, καὶ σνγκα-ακλιθῆναι γυμνοῖς σώμασι.]

[Footnote 8:

Ροίζῳ--"Πολλῇ δὲ ῥοιζῳ πρὸς ὄρος τρέπε πίονα μῆλα."

Odys. ix. 315.

"Then hissing them along he drove his flocks."--Cowper.

]

[Footnote 9:

...."φόβος δὲ πᾶσι βαρβάροις παρῆν

γνώμης αποσφαλεῖσιν.

. . . . . .

εὐθὺς δὲ κώπης ῥοθιάδος ξυνεμβoλῇ

ἔπαισαν ἄλμην βρύχιου ἐκ κελεύσματος."

Æsch. Persæ, 391.

For the good service done by Pan to the Athenians at Marathon, he was

rewarded with a temple.--Herod. vi. 405.]

[Footnote 10: ἐπ αὐτῆς τῆς ναυηχίδος, literally, in the admiral.]

[Footnote 11: κατὰ τῆς αποβάθρας.]

[Footnote 12: εὑφημοῦντες. Especial care was taken during a sacrifice,

that no inauspicious or frivolous words were uttered by any of the

bystanders; hence the admonitions of the priest,--εῦφημεῖτε, εὐφημία,

σιγᾶτε, σιωπᾶτε, favete linguis, and others; for improper expressions

were thought not only to pollute the sacred act, but to be unlucky

omens.

"Male ominatis,

Parcite verbis."

Hor. iii. Od. xiv. 11.

]

[Footnote 13: υπoβεβρεγμένoι.]

[Footnote 14: ἐγκόμβωμα.]

[Footnote 15: See the legend in Ovid Met. i. 689.]

[Footnote 16: άνίσους, καθ' ὃτι καὶ ὁ ἔρως ἄνισος αὐτοῖς.]

[Footnote 17: "La Pantomime est le premier langage de l'homme; elle est

connue de toutes les nations."--Bernardin de St. Pierre.

On the subject of the Pantomimic dance, common to Greece and Italy, see

Dict. of Greek and Rom. Antiq. p. 713.]

BOOK III.

When the inhabitants of Mitylene heard of the descent made by the ten

vessels, and had been informed by some coming from the spot of the

plunder which had been carried off, they were of opinion that such an

injury on the part of the Methymnæans was insufferable, and immediately

raised a force of three thousand infantry and five hundred cavalry,

which they put under the command of Hippasus with orders, that he

should lead his men by land, and not embark them on board of ship, as a

voyage in the winter season would be dangerous.

The general began his march, but he did not lay waste the country of

the enemy, nor did he plunder the possessions of the husbandman, or of

the shepherd, thinking such petty warfare suitable to a captain of a

banditti, rather than to the leader of an army. He hastened his march

in order to reach the gates of the city and attack the inhabitants

while they were off their guard. When his troops approached within

eleven miles of the city, a herald came out to them with proposals for

a truce. The Methymnæans had discovered from the prisoners, that the

citizens of Mitylene were ignorant of the beginning of the affray,[1]

and that the insolence of their own young men had drawn upon them the

vengeance inflicted by the herdsmen and shepherds. They repented,

accordingly, of having acted precipitately rather than prudently

towards a neighbouring city, and were desirous to restore all their

plunder, in order that friendly intercourse by sea and land might be

restored. Although Hippasus had full powers given him of acting as he

thought proper, he ordered the herald to proceed to Mitylene, while he

pitched his camp about a mile from the enemy's city, and waited for the

answer of his fellow-citizens. In two days a messenger arrived with

orders for him to refrain from any act of hostility, to receive the

restored booty, and to return home; for since the declaration of peace

or war rested on the decision of the people, they considered peace far

preferable.

Thus did the war between Methymne and Mitylene begin and end in an

equally unexpected manner.

Winter, however, was more formidable to Daphnis and Chloe, than war

had been. On a sudden heavy falls of snow blocked up the roads, and

shut up the cottagers within doors. Impetuous torrents rushed down from

the mountains, the ice thickened, the trees[2] seemed as though their

branches were broken down beneath the weight of snow, and the whole

face of the earth had disappeared except about the brinks of fountains

and the borders of rivers.

No one led his flocks to pasture, or even ventured to stir from home;

but lighting large fires, at cock-crowing, some employed themselves in

twisting ropes, some in weaving goats' hair, and some in making snares

and nets to catch birds. At the same time they took care to supply the

oxen in their stalls with chaff, the goats and sheep in their cotes

with leaves, and the hogs in their styes with holm-berries and acorns.

As every one was of necessity confined within-doors,[3] most of the

labourers and shepherds were glad at having an interval of release

from their wonted labours, and immediately after their morning-meal

lay down, and enjoyed a lengthy sleep, winter appearing to them more

pleasant than the summer, the autumn, or even the spring. But Daphnis

and Chloe cherished in their memory the pleasures, of which they were

now deprived,--their kisses, their embraces, and their happy meals

together. They passed nights of sleeplessness and sorrow, and looked

for the return of spring as a restoration to life after an interval of

death. It was painful to them, if chance threw in their way a scrip,

from which they had eaten, or a vessel from which they had drunk, or

if they happened to cast their eyes on a pipe, now thrown aside with

neglect, which had once been bestowed and received as a token of love.

Frequent were their prayers to the Nymphs, and to Pan, to deliver them

from their troubles, and once more to let the sun shine upon them and

their herds, and while thus engaged they also endeavoured to devise

some scheme, by which they might obtain a sight of one another. Chloe

was quite at a loss, and could not contrive any plan, successfully, for

her reputed mother was always sitting near her, teaching her to card

wool and to turn the spindle, and touching upon the subject of marriage.

Daphnis, however, had greater quickness of invention, and more leisure

than the maiden, and hit upon the following scheme for getting a

sight of Chloe. Two lofty myrtle trees and an ivy grew before Dryas's

cottage, and indeed under the very cottage itself. The ivy grew between

the myrtle trees, throwing out on either side, its sprays like a vine,

and forming an arbour by intermingling its leaves with theirs. The

berries hung down in thick clusters, and were as large as grapes.

Numbers of winter birds flocked thither from want of food elsewhere;

such as blackbirds, thrushes, wood-pigeons, starlings, and a variety

of others, which live on berries. Daphnis filled his scrip with some

honeyed cakes, and quitted his home under pretence of going to catch

some of these birds. To remove all suspicion of his real design he

carried with him plenty of birdlime and snares. The distance was little

more than a mile, but the frost and the snow, which had not yet melted,

rendered the road very toilsome. To LOVE, however, all things are

passable--fire, and water, and even Scythian snows. Having soon arrived

at the cottage, he shook the snow from his legs and feet, set the

snares, spread the birdlime, and seated himself in the arbour watching

the birds, but thinking of Chloe. So many were very soon caught, that

he had abundance of occupation in collecting them together, killing

and plucking them. In the mean time, not a man, not a maiden, not even

a domestic fowl came out of the cottage: the whole family were shut

up and close around the fire. Daphnis was now utterly at a loss what

to do, and thought that he had come at an unlucky time. He determined

to knock at the door if he could find any pretext, and began to

consider what would appear most plausible. "What, if I say that I

want a light to kindle our fire? they will reply 'you have neighbours

within a stone's throw of your cottage.' What, if I request something

to eat?--'your scrip is full of victuals.' What, if I ask for some

wine?--'you have but lately got in the vintage.' What, if I exclaim

that a wolf has been pursuing me?--'where are the traces of his feet?'

What, if I tell them I came to snare birds?--'why not go home again, if

you have had sport enough?' Shall I at once say that I have come to see

Chloe? Ah! who will venture to make such a bold avowal to the father

and mother of the maiden? My pleas will be all exhausted and I shall

be reduced to silence. Since none of these excuses will pass free from

suspicion, it were better to hold my tongue. It seems decreed by the

Fates that I shall not see my Chloe during the winter; I must wait with

patience until the spring."

After indulging in some such thoughts as these, he took up his game,

and was preparing to depart, when, as if Love took pity on him, the

following occurrence happened.

The family within had spread their table: the meat was portioned out;

a slice of bread was placed for each, and the goblet was ready mixed.

One of the sheep-dogs, who had watched his opportunity, when no person

was observing him, seized a piece of meat, and made his escape. Dryas

(for the stolen meat happened to be his portion) snatched up a club,

and pursued the thief, following him up like a second dog. Daphnis

had thrown the birds over his shoulder, and was just about hurrying

away when Dryas espied him. At the sight of Daphnis he immediately

forgot both meat and dog, called out after him, "Good morrow, my son!"

ran to him, embraced him, took him by the hand, and led him into the

house. When the lovers saw each other, they were very near sinking

to the ground; however, they continued to support themselves, while

they saluted and embraced: indeed their embrace acted as a stay, and

prevented them from falling.

Having thus contrary to his expectation obtained an interview with his

Chloe and a kiss, Daphnis drew nearer to the fire, and sat down: then

taking the wood-pigeons and thrushes from his shoulder threw them upon

the table, while he related to the family the weariness which he felt

from so long and tedious a confinement at home, the eagerness with

which he set out in pursuit of some sport, and the manner in which he

caught the birds, some with a snare, some with birdlime, when they

came in search of the myrtle and ivy berries. The family praised his

activity, and compared him to "Apollo the far-darting;" and urged him

to partake of what the dog had fortunately left; desiring Chloe in the

mean time to pour him out wherewithal to drink. She cheerfully complied

and handed the goblet to all the others first, last of all to Daphnis,

pretending to be affronted with him, for having come thither and

intending to go away without asking to see her: nevertheless, before

holding the beaker out to him, she sipped[4] a little from it, and then

presented it; upon which he, although thirsty, drank as leisurely as

possible, in order to prolong his pleasure, by protracting his draught.

The table was soon cleared of the fragments of bread and meat: after

which, as they were sitting by the fire, they began to inquire after

Myrtale and Lamon, who were pronounced fortunate in having such an

excellent provider for their old age. Daphnis was delighted at having

these commendations pronounced upon him in the hearing of Chloe, and

when her parents proceeded to insist upon his remaining with them

till next day, when they intended to sacrifice to Bacchus, he was

very nearly adoring them in lieu of the god. He immediately produced

his store of honeyed cakes from his scrip, together with the birds,

which he had caught, which they dressed for supper. A second goblet

was mixed; and a second fire was lighted. Night soon came on, when

they partook of a hearty meal; and at its conclusion, after telling

stories, and singing songs, they retired to rest. Chloe slept with her

mother, and Daphnis with Dryas. Chloe's only pleasure was the thought

of seeing Daphnis the next morning; Daphnis enjoyed a kind of hollow

satisfaction, even from sleeping with Chloe's father, whom he hugged

and kissed, dreaming all the while, that the embraces were being

bestowed upon Chloe.

When the day broke the cold was intense, and the sharp north wind was

parching up every thing. Dryas and his family arose, sacrificed a ram

of one year old to Bacchus, and lighted a large fire to boil the meat.

Nape made the bread, while Dryas attended to the meat, and, while

they were thus engaged, Daphnis and Chloe proceeded to the ivy-covered

arbour, where they set snares and spread birdlime, and again caught

no small quantity of birds. Kisses and delightful converse were

continuously interchanged between them.

"I came hither entirely on your account, Chloe."

"I know it, my dear Daphnis."

"On your account it is that these poor blackbirds now perish; what

place have I in your affections? Do think of me!"

"I do think of you, my Daphnis, I swear it by the Nymphs whom I once

invoked in that Grotto, whither we will repair again so soon as the

snow shall have melted."

"The snow lies very thick; I fear that I shall melt away, before it

does."

"Do not despair, Daphnis, the sun is very warm."

"Would that it were as warm as the fire which burns my heart!"

"You are in jest: you are deceiving me, Daphnis."

"No! I am not; I swear it by the goats, whom at your bidding I invoked."

Chloe's reply was an echo to what Daphnis said. Nape now calling them,

they hurried into the house with a much larger supply of game than

Daphnis had taken the day before. First pouring out a libation to

Bacchus, from the goblet, they sat down to their banquet with chaplets

of ivy on their heads. When it was time to part, after loudly shouting

in honour of the god, Daphnis took his leave, Dryas and his wife having

filled his bag with meat and bread, and insisting upon his carrying

the wood-pigeons and thrushes home to Lamon and Myrtale; for, as they

said, they should be able to catch as many as they pleased so long as

the cold lasted and the ivy berries did not fail. At length Daphnis

bade them farewell, and at his departure gave each of them a kiss,

but he saluted Chloe last of all, that her kiss might remain pure and

unalloyed upon his lips.

He frequently found out pretences for paying them fresh visits; so that

the winter did not pass by altogether without an interchange of love.

In the opening of spring, when the snow was melted, the face of

the earth again uncovered and the grass beginning to grow,[5] the

shepherds and herdsmen led forth their flocks to the pastures, but

Daphnis and Chloe were earlier than the others, inasmuch as they were

under the guidance of a mightier shepherd (Love). The first place to

which they hastened, was the grotto of the Nymphs; the next was the

pine-tree, where stood the statue of Pan; they then proceeded to the

oak, under which, sitting down, they watched their feeding flocks, and

kissed and embraced each other. Wishing to crown the statues of the

deities, they sought for flowers: these were but just beginning to come

out under the mild influence of the zephyr, and the genial warmth of

the sun; but they found the violet, the narcissus, and the pimpernel,

and all the other firstlings of the year: with these they crowned the

statues, and then poured out libations of new milk drawn from the

ewes and the she-goats. After this ceremony they began to tune their

pastoral pipes, as though challenging the nightingales to resume their

song: these answered softly from the thickets, and gradually became

perfect in their plaintive strains, as if recalling them slowly after

so long a silence.[6]

The sheep were heard bleating, while the lambs were seen to frisk

about, or stooping under their mothers drew the teat; the rams pursued

and leaped upon those which had never lambed. The he-goats did the

like, contending for their mates, each making choice of his own, and

guarding her from the approach of a rival.

All these objects might have kindled love even in hoary age; they who

were in the bloom of youth, full of vigour, and long since warmed by

desire, were inflamed by such sounds, melted at such sights, and

longed for something beyond a kiss and an embrace.

Especially was this the case with Daphnis. He had passed the whole

winter in the house, and in a state of inactivity, he therefore was

more impetuous than ever in his desire for kissing and embracing Chloe,

and became bolder and more inquisitive in all love matters. He urged

her to grant him all his wishes; and proposed that they should lie side

by side, naked, since of the precepts given by Philetas for curing

love, this remained untried. She inquired what there possibly could be

besides kisses, embraces, and reclining side by side; why did he wish

that they should recline together naked?

"I wish," said he "to follow the example of the rams and ewes; of

the male goats and their females.--After their amorous sport, the

females no longer flee, and the males no longer pursue; but both feed

quietly together, as if they felt a mutual pleasure. There must be

some gratification in what they do; something which cures the sting of

love."[7] "But," returned Chloe, "the postures of the sheep and goats

are very different from ours; the males leap upon the females from

behind; this is out of the question with us; besides, you wish me to

lie beside you naked, whereas they have a thick covering given them by

nature."

Daphnis admitted the reasonableness of this; so after lying by her

side, as usual, for a considerable time, ignorant how to gratify his

passions, he got up and actually shed tears, at being less expert in

love than a silly sheep.

They had a neighbour named Chromis, who farmed some land of his own. He

was growing old, but his wife, who came from the city, was young, good

looking, and superior in manners to the common rustics; her name was

Lycænium. Seeing Daphnis driving his goats past her house, conducting

them to pasture in the morning, and home again in the evening, she was

very desirous of enticing him into love by means of presents.

Upon one occasion, watching until he was alone, she gave him a pipe,

a honeycomb, and a scrip of deer-skin. She did not say anything at

the time, suspecting his affection for Chloe, by seeing him always in

her company. Hitherto, however, her knowledge of the fact was founded

only upon having seen nods and laughter exchanged between them. Not

long after, pretending to Chromis in the morning that she was going to

visit a neighbour in the pains of childbirth, she followed the lovers,

and concealed herself in a thicket, in order to avoid discovery; from

thence she saw and heard everything which passed between them, and

was a witness of the tears shed by Daphnis under his disappointment.

Commiserating their trouble, and conceiving the present a good

opportunity to promote their wishes, and to gratify her own desires,

she had recourse to the following expedient.

The next morning, under cover of the same excuse as on the previous

day, she went straight to the oak where Daphnis and Chloe were sitting

together; then admirably counterfeiting a state of great alarm, she

exclaimed, "Come to my aid, I entreat you, Daphnis, an eagle has

carried off the finest among my twenty geese; and unable to bear it to

yonder high rock, has fallen with it in the neighbouring low wood. In

the name of Pan and the Nymphs come into the wood and rescue my goose,

I am afraid to enter it by myself. Do not let me have my number made

imperfect; besides you may perhaps kill the eagle, and will then no

longer be in dread of having your lambs carried away.--Chloe will, in

the meantime, mind your flocks, the goats know her as well as they do

you, from your being always in company."

Daphnis, having no suspicions of her motives, got up and followed

Lycænium, who led him as far as possible from Chloe; upon arriving in

the thickest of the wood, near a fountain, she bid him sit down beside

her.--"You are in love, Daphnis," she said; "the Nymphs informed me of

this, last night; they told me of the tears which you shed yesterday,

and have commanded me, for the sake of your relief, to teach you love's

mysteries. These are not limited to kisses and embraces, and the doing

what is done by the rams and goats;[8] they result in much greater

pleasure, and are longer in duration. If, therefore, you wish to be

freed from your pains, and to make trial of the sweets which you so

long for, you must become my willing pupil, and out of regard to the

Nymphs I will be your instructress." Daphnis could scarcely contain

himself for joy, but rustic as he was, a goatherd, young and in love,

he threw himself at Lycænium's feet, entreating her to teach him with

all speed the art of gratifying his passion for Chloe.--Moreover, as if

about to learn something very mysterious and wonderful, he promised to

reward her pains with a kid, some cheeses made of the first new milk,

and the she-goat herself. Finding the young shepherd so liberal in his

offers, she began to tutor him. She made him sit close to her, bidding

him kiss and embrace her, and lastly lie down beside her, as was his

wont with Chloe. After this, seeing his amorous ardour, she received

him into her arms, and, aided by nature, led him to the wished-for

consummation.[9]

When this amorous lesson was concluded, Daphnis, in his simplicity, was

upon the point of hurrying back to Chloe, to put in practice what he

had learnt, for fear lest through delaying he might forget it. Lycænium

however stopped him, saying,--"You have something more yet to learn,

Daphnis,--I am a full grown woman, and have felt no inconvenience

from what has taken place; I was instructed in this art by another

man, who received my maidenhead as his reward;--but Chloe, when she

engages in this amorous contest, will cry out, and shed tears, and

suffer inconvenience; however, you must not mind all this; so when

you find her in a compliant humour, bring her to this wood, where you

will be free from all intrusion,--and remember, that you have had me

for your instructress previous to Chloe."[10] Lycænium, after giving

him this advice, retired to another part of the wood as if still in

search of the lost goose. Daphnis, reflecting upon what she had said,

restrained his former impetuosity,[11] fearing to be the cause of any

pain and inconvenience to Chloe; and determining to solace himself with

her only in the accustomed manner, he issued from the wood. Upon his

return he found her weaving a chaplet of violets; so, pretending that

he had delivered the goose from the talons of the eagle, he threw his

arms around her and embraced her, since in this at least there could

be no danger. She placed the chaplet upon his head, and kissed his

hair, which, in her estimation was far preferable to the violets. Then

producing from her scrip a cake of figs and bread, she gave him some,

then snatching the morsels from his mouth, eat them herself, like the

youngling of a bird.

While they were at their meal, which, however, consisted more of kisses

than of food, a fishing boat was seen proceeding along the coast.

There was no wind stirring; a perfect calm prevailed: so having taken

to their oars, the crew were rowing vigorously, their object being to

carry some newly caught fish to a rich man in the city. They dipped

their oars, doing what sailors usually do to beguile their toil. The

boatswain[12] sung a sea-song, and the rest joined in chorus at

stated intervals. When they were in the open sea, the sound was lost,

their voices being dispersed into the air, but when running under a

headland they came into any hollow and crescent-shaped bay, the sound

became much louder, and the song of the boatswain was distinctly

heard on shore. A deep valley here sloped down from the plain above,

which received into it the sound, as into an instrument of music, and

repeated with the most perfect imitation every note which was uttered.

There could be heard the distinction between the dash of the oars, and

the voices of the sailors; and a very pleasing sound it was; beginning

on the sea, the duration of its echo upon shore was proportioned to its

greater lateness in commencing.

Daphnis, understanding the nature of the echo, turned his attention

solely to the sea, and was delighted with viewing the boat as it

glided by the shore quicker than a bird could fly. At the same time

he endeavoured to store up some of these strains in his memory, that

he might play them on his pipe. Chloe, who had never, till now, heard

what is called an echo, turned first to the sea, and listened to

the boatmen, as they sang, and then looked round to the woods, in

expectation of seeing those, who (as she thought) were singing in

responsive chorus.

At length the rowers were out of sight, and all was silent, even in

the valley; when Chloe inquired of Daphnis whether there was another

sea behind the hill, and another boat, and other sailors, who all sang

the same strain, and who all left off together. Daphnis sweetly smiled

upon her, and gave her a still sweeter kiss, and putting the chaplet of

violets on her head, proceeded to relate to her the legendary tale of

Echo, upon condition of receiving ten kisses for his pains.

"There are various classes of the Nymphs, my love;--the Melians, who

dwell among the ash-groves, the Dryads, who preside over the oaks, and

the Elæan, who are guardians of the lakes. Echo[13] was the daughter

of one of these Nymphs: as her mother was beautiful, so was she, but

as her father was a mortal, she also was the same. She was brought up

by the Nymphs, and was taught by the Muses to play upon the pipe, the

flute, the lyre, and the harp, in short she was instructed in every

species of music; so that when the maiden arrived at the flower of her

youth, she danced with the Nymphs, and sang with the Muses. Attached to

the state of maidenhood, she shunned the sight of all males, whether

men or gods. This roused the indignation of Pan; jealous of her skill

in music, and irritated by her refusal of his advances, the god

inspired the shepherds and herdsmen with such frenzy, that they rushed

upon her like so many hounds or wolves, tore her in pieces, and threw

in every direction, her limbs, yet sending forth melodious sounds.

Earth, in order to gratify the Nymphs, covered the maiden's limbs, but

preserved to her the gift of song; and, by the will of the Muses, she

still has the power of utterance, and, as when alive, still imitates

all sounds; the voices of the gods--of men--of instruments--of animals,

even of Pan himself when playing on his pipe. He, when he hears the

sound, springs up, and rushes in pursuit over the mountains, not in

order to bend her to his wishes, but to find out who can be this his

hidden pupil."

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.

[Footnote 1: The reading here followed is that of

Villoisin.--ὑβρίζοντας τoὺς νεανίσκους.]

[Footnote 2:

"nec jam susteneant onus

Silvæ laborantes, geluque

Flumina constiterint acuto."--Hor. i. Od. ix. 2.

]

[Footnote 3: Compare Virgil's description of the way of passing a

northern Winter.

"Ipsi in defossis specubus secura sub altâ

Otia agunt terrâ, congestaque robora totasque

Advolvere focis ulmos, ignique dedere.

Hie noctem ludo ducunt, et pocula læti

Fermento atque acidis imitantur vitea sorbis."

G. iii. 376.

]

[Footnote 4:

"Fac primus rapias illius tacta labellis

Pocula: quaque bibit parte puella, bibe."

Ovid de Art. Am. i. 575.

]

[Footnote 5:

"Diffugere nives, redeunt jam gramina campis

Arboribusque comæ....

Mutat terra vices."--Hor. iv. Od. vii. 1.

]

[Footnote 6:

"----The gay troops begin,

In gallant thought to plume the painted wing

And try again the long forgotten strain,

At first faint warbled--

. . . . . .

Then, all at once alive, then joy o'erflows

In music unconfined."--Thomson.

Should the reader wish to see the song of the Nightingale represented

by a series of words, he is referred to p. 108 of Paget's Warden of

Berkingholt, where he will find the imitation by the learned Doctor

Bechstein, of Walterhausen.]