_Simaetha_, _madly in love with Delphis_, _who has forsaken her_,
_endeavours to subdue him to her by magic_, _and by invoking the Moon_,
_in her character of Hecate_, _and of Selene_. _She tells the tale of
the growth of her passion_, _and vows vengeance if her magic arts are
unsuccessful_.
_The scene is probably some garden beneath the moonlit shy_, _near the
town_, _and within sound of the sea_. _The characters are Simaetha_,
_and Thestylis_, _her handmaid_.
* * * * *
WHERE are my laurel leaves? come, bring them, Thestylis; and where are
the love-charms? Wreath the bowl with bright-red wool, that I may knit
the witch-knots against my grievous lover, {11} who for twelve days, oh
cruel, has never come hither, nor knows whether I am alive or dead, nor
has once knocked at my door, unkind that he is! Hath Love flown off with
his light desires by some other path—Love and Aphrodite? To-morrow I
will go to the wrestling school of Timagetus, to see my love and to
reproach him with all the wrong he is doing me. But now I will bewitch
him with my enchantments! Do thou, Selene, shine clear and fair, for
softly, Goddess, to thee will I sing, and to Hecate of hell. The very
whelps shiver before her as she fares through black blood and across the
barrows of the dead.
Hail, awful Hecate! to the end be thou of our company, and make this
medicine of mine no weaker than the spells of Circe, or of Medea, or of
Perimede of the golden hair.
_My magic wheel_, _draw home to me the man I love_!
Lo, how the barley grain first smoulders in the fire,—nay, toss on the
barley, Thestylis! Miserable maid, where are thy wits wandering? Even
to thee, wretched that I am, have I become a laughing-stock, even to
thee? Scatter the grain, and cry thus the while, ‘’Tis the bones of
Delphis I am scattering!’
_My magic wheel_, _draw home to me the man I love_!
Delphis troubled me, and I against Delphis am burning this laurel; and
even as it crackles loudly when it has caught the flame, and suddenly is
burned up, and we see not even the dust thereof, lo, even thus may the
flesh of Delphis waste in the burning!
_My magic wheel_, _draw home to me the man I love_!
Even as I melt this wax, with the god to aid, so speedily may he by love
be molten, the Myndian Delphis! And as whirls this brazen wheel, {13} so
restless, under Aphrodite’s spell, may he turn and turn about my doors.
_My magic wheel_, _draw home to me the man I love_!
Now will I burn the husks, and thou, O Artemis, hast power to move hell’s
adamantine gates, and all else that is as stubborn. Thestylis, hark,
’tis so; the hounds are baying up and down the town! The Goddess stands
where the three ways meet! Hasten, and clash the brazen cymbals.
_My magic wheel_, _draw home to me the man I love_!
Lo, silent is the deep, and silent the winds, but never silent the
torment in my breast. Nay, I am all on fire for him that made me,
miserable me, no wife but a shameful thing, a girl no more a maiden.
_My magic wheel_, _draw home to me the man I love_!
Three times do I pour libation, and thrice, my Lady Moon, I speak this
spell:—Be it with a friend that he lingers, be it with a leman he lies,
may he as clean forget them as Theseus, of old, in Dia—so legends
tell—did utterly forget the fair-tressed Ariadne.
_My magic wheel_, _draw home to me the man I love_!
Coltsfoot is an Arcadian weed that maddens, on the hills, the young
stallions and fleet-footed mares. Ah! even as these may I see Delphis;
and to this house of mine, may he speed like a madman, leaving the bright
palaestra.
_My magic wheel_, _draw home to me the man I love_!
This fringe from his cloak Delphis lost; that now I shred and cast into
the cruel flame. Ah, ah, thou torturing Love, why clingest thou to me
like a leech of the fen, and drainest all the black blood from my body?
_My magic wheel_, _draw home to me the man I love_!
Lo, I will crush an eft, and a venomous draught to-morrow I will bring
thee!
But now, Thestylis, take these magic herbs and secretly smear the juice
on the jambs of his gate (whereat, even now, my heart is captive, though
nothing he recks of me), and spit and whisper, ‘’Tis the bones of Delphis
that I smear.’
_My magic wheel_, _draw home to me the man I love_!
And now that I am alone, whence shall I begin to bewail my love? Whence
shall I take up the tale: who brought on me this sorrow? The
maiden-bearer of the mystic vessel came our way, Anaxo, daughter of
Eubulus, to the grove of Artemis; and behold, she had many other wild
beasts paraded for that time, in the sacred show, and among them a
lioness.
_Bethink thee of my love_, _and whence it came_, _my Lady Moon_!
And the Thracian servant of Theucharidas,—my nurse that is but lately
dead, and who then dwelt at our doors,—besought me and implored me to
come and see the show. And I went with her, wretched woman that I am,
clad about in a fair and sweeping linen stole, over which I had thrown
the holiday dress of Clearista.
_Bethink thee of my love_, _and whence it came_, _my Lady Moon_!
Lo! I was now come to the mid-point of the highway, near the dwelling of
Lycon, and there I saw Delphis and Eudamippus walking together. Their
beards were more golden than the golden flower of the ivy; their breasts
(they coming fresh from the glorious wrestler’s toil) were brighter of
sheen than thyself Selene!
_Bethink thee of my love_, _and whence it came_, _my Lady Moon_!
Even as I looked I loved, loved madly, and all my heart was wounded, woe
is me, and my beauty began to wane. No more heed took I of that show,
and how I came home I know not; but some parching fever utterly overthrew
me, and I lay a-bed ten days and ten nights.
_Bethink thee of my love_, _and whence it came_, _my Lady Moon_!
And oftentimes my skin waxed wan as the colour of boxwood, and all my
hair was falling from my head, and what was left of me was but skin and
bones. Was there a wizard to whom I did not seek, or a crone to whose
house I did not resort, of them that have art magical? But this was no
light malady, and the time went fleeting on.
_Bethink thee of my love_, _and whence it came_, _my Lady Moon_!
Thus I told the true story to my maiden, and said, ‘Go, Thestylis, and
find me some remedy for this sore disease. Ah me, the Myndian possesses
me, body and soul! Nay, depart, and watch by the wrestling-ground of
Timagetus, for there is his resort, and there he loves to loiter.
_Bethink thee of my love_, _and whence it came_, _my Lady Moon_!
‘And when thou art sure he is alone, nod to him secretly, and say,
“Simaetha bids thee to come to her,” and lead him hither privily.’ So I
spoke; and she went and brought the bright-limbed Delphis to my house.
But I, when I beheld him just crossing the threshold of the door, with
his light step,—
_Bethink thee of my love_, _and whence it came_, _my Lady Moon_!
Grew colder all than snow, and the sweat streamed from my brow like the
dank dews, and I had no strength to speak, nay, nor to utter as much as
children murmur in their slumber, calling to their mother dear: and all
my fair body turned stiff as a puppet of wax.
_Bethink thee of my love_, _and whence it came_, _my Lady Moon_!
Then when he had gazed on me, he that knows not love, he fixed his eyes
on the ground, and sat down on my bed, and spake as he sat him down:
‘Truly, Simaetha, thou didst by no more outrun mine own coming hither,
when thou badst me to thy roof, than of late I outran in the race the
beautiful Philinus:
_Bethink thee of my love_, _and whence it came_, _my Lady Moon_!
‘For I should have come; yea, by sweet Love, I should have come, with
friends of mine, two or three, as soon as night drew on, bearing in my
breast the apples of Dionysus, and on my head silvery poplar leaves, the
holy boughs of Heracles, all twined with bands of purple.
_Bethink thee of my love_, _and whence it came_, _my Lady Moon_!
‘And if you had received me, they would have taken it well, for among all
the youths unwed I have a name for beauty and speed of foot. With one
kiss of thy lovely mouth I had been content; but an if ye had thrust me
forth, and the door had been fastened with the bar, then truly should
torch and axe have broken in upon you.
_Bethink thee of my love_, _and whence it came_, _my Lady Moon_!
‘And now to Cypris first, methinks, my thanks are due, and after Cypris
it is thou that hast caught me, lady, from the burning, in that thou
badst me come to this thy house, half consumed as I am! Yea, Love, ’tis
plain, lights oft a fiercer blaze than Hephaestus the God of Lipara.
_Bethink thee of my love_, _and whence it came_, _my Lady Moon_!
‘With his madness dire, he scares both the maiden from her bower and the
bride from the bridal bed, yet warm with the body of her lord!’
So he spake, and I, that was easy to win, took his hand, and drew him
down on the soft bed beside me. And immediately body from body caught
fire, and our faces glowed as they had not done, and sweetly we murmured.
And now, dear Selene, to tell thee no long tale, the great rites were
accomplished, and we twain came to our desire. Faultless was I in his
sight, till yesterday, and he, again, in mine. But there came to me the
mother of Philista, my flute player, and the mother of Melixo, to-day,
when the horses of the Sun were climbing the sky, bearing Dawn of the
rosy arms from the ocean stream. Many another thing she told me; and
chiefly this, that Delphis is a lover, and whom he loves she vowed she
knew not surely, but this only, that ever he filled up his cup with the
unmixed wine, to drink a toast to his dearest. And at last he went off
hastily, saying that he would cover with garlands the dwelling of his
love.
This news my visitor told me, and she speaks the truth. For indeed, at
other seasons, he would come to me thrice, or four times, in the day, and
often would leave with me his Dorian oil flask. But now it is the
twelfth day since I have even looked on him! Can it be that he has not
some other delight, and has forgotten me? Now with magic rites I will
strive to bind him, {19} but if still he vexes me, he shall beat, by the
Fates I vow it, at the gate of Hell. Such evil medicines I store against
him in a certain coffer, the use whereof, my lady, an Assyrian stranger
taught me.
But do thou farewell, and turn thy steeds to Ocean, Lady, and my pain I
will bear, as even till now I have endured it. Farewell, Selene bright
and fair, farewell ye other stars, that follow the wheels of quiet Night.