_The scene is among the high mountain pastures of Sicily_:—
‘_On the sward_, _at the cliff top_
_Lie strewn the white flocks_;’
_and far below shines and murmurs the Sicilian sea_. _Here Daphnis and
Menalcas_, _two herdsmen of the golden age_, _meet_, _while still in
their earliest youth_, _and contend for the prize of pastoral_. _Their
songs_, _in elegiac measure_, _are variations on the themes of love and
friendship_ (_for Menalcas sings of Milon_, _Daphnis of Nais_), _and of
nature_. _Daphnis is the winner_; _it is his earliest victory_, _and the
prelude to his great renown among nymphs and shepherds_. _In this
version the strophes are arranged as in Fritzsche’s text_. _Some critics
take the poem to be a patchwork by various hands_.
* * * * *
AS beautiful Daphnis was following his kine, and Menalcas shepherding his
flock, they met, as men tell, on the long ranges of the hills. The
beards of both had still the first golden bloom, both were in their
earliest youth, both were pipe-players skilled, both skilled in song.
Then first Menalcas, looking at Daphnis, thus bespoke him.
‘Daphnis, thou herdsman of the lowing kine, art thou minded to sing a
match with me? Methinks I shall vanquish thee, when I sing in turn, as
readily as I please.’
Then Daphnis answered him again in this wise, ‘Thou shepherd of the
fleecy sheep, Menalcas, the pipe-player, never wilt thou vanquish me in
song, not thou, if thou shouldst sing till some evil thing befall thee!’
_Menalcas_. Dost thou care then, to try this and see, dost thou care to
risk a stake?
_Daphnis_. I do care to try this and see, a stake I am ready to risk.
_Menalcas_. But what shall we stake, what pledge shall we find equal and
sufficient?
_Daphnis_. I will pledge a calf, and do thou put down a lamb, one that
has grown to his mother’s height.
_Menalcas_. Nay, never will I stake a lamb, for stern is my father, and
stern my mother, and they number all the sheep at evening.
_Daphnis_. But what, then, wilt thou lay, and where is to be the
victor’s gain?
_Menalcas_. The pipe, the fair pipe with nine stops, that I made myself,
fitted with white wax, and smoothed evenly, above as below. This would I
readily wager, but never will I stake aught that is my father’s.
_Daphnis_. See then, I too, in truth, have a pipe with nine stops,
fitted with white wax, and smoothed evenly, above as below. But lately I
put it together, and this finger still aches, where the reed split, and
cut it deeply.
_Menalcas_. But who is to judge between us, who will listen to our
singing?
_Daphnis_. That goatherd yonder, he will do, if we call him hither, the
man for whom that dog, a black hound with a white patch, is barking among
the kids.
Then the boys called aloud, and the goatherd gave ear, and came, and the
boys began to sing, and the goatherd was willing to be their umpire. And
first Menalcas sang (for he drew the lot) the sweet-voiced Menalcas, and
Daphnis took up the answering strain of pastoral song—and ’twas thus
Menalcas began:
_Menalcas_. Ye glades, ye rivers, issue of the Gods, if ever Menalcas
the flute-player sang a song ye loved, to please him, feed his lambs; and
if ever Daphnis come hither with his calves, nay he have no less a boon.
_Daphnis_. Ye wells and pastures, sweet growth o’ the world, if Daphnis
sings like the nightingales, do ye fatten this herd of his, and if
Menalcas hither lead a flock, may he too have pasture ungrudging to his
full desire!
_Menalcas_. There doth the ewe bear twins, and there the goats; there
the bees fill the hives, and there oaks grow loftier than common,
wheresoever beautiful Milon’s feet walk wandering; ah, if he depart, then
withered and lean is the shepherd, and lean the pastures
_Daphnis_. Everywhere is spring, and pastures everywhere, and everywhere
the cows’ udders are swollen with milk, and the younglings are fostered,
wheresoever fair Nais roams; ah, if she depart, then parched are the
kine, and he that feeds them!
_Menalcas_. O bearded goat, thou mate of the white herd, and O ye
blunt-faced kids, where are the manifold deeps of the forest, thither get
ye to the water, for thereby is Milon; go, thou hornless goat, and say to
him, ‘Milon, Proteus was a herdsman, and that of seals, though he was a
god.’
_Daphnis_. . . .
_Menalcas_. Not mine be the land of Pelops, not mine to own talents of
gold, nay, nor mine to outrun the speed of the winds! Nay, but beneath
this rock will I sing, with thee in mine arms, and watch our flocks
feeding together, and, before us, the Sicilian sea.
_Daphnis_ . . . .
_Menalcas_ . . . .
_Daphnis_. Tempest is the dread pest of the trees, drought of the
waters, snares of the birds, and the hunter’s net of the wild beasts, but
ruinous to man is the love of a delicate maiden. O father, O Zeus, I
have not been the only lover, thou too hast longed for a mortal woman.
Thus the boys sang in verses amoebaean, and thus Menalcas began the
crowning lay:
_Menalcas_. Wolf, spare the kids, spare the mothers of my herd, and harm
not me, so young as I am to tend so great a flock. Ah, Lampurus, my dog,
dost thou then sleep so soundly? a dog should not sleep so sound, that
helps a boyish shepherd. Ewes of mine, spare ye not to take your fill of
the tender herb, ye shall not weary, ’ere all this grass grows again.
Hist, feed on, feed on, fill, all of you, your udders, that there may be
milk for the lambs, and somewhat for me to store away in the
cheese-crates.
Then Daphnis followed again, and sweetly preluded to his singing:
_Daphnis_. Me, even me, from the cave, the girl with meeting eyebrows
spied yesterday as I was driving past my calves, and she cried, ‘How
fair, how fair he is!’ But I answered her never the word of railing, but
cast down my eyes, and plodded on my way.
Sweet is the voice of the heifer, sweet her breath, {50} sweet to lie
beneath the sky in summer, by running water.
Acorns are the pride of the oak, apples of the apple tree, the calf of
the heifer, and the neatherd glories in his kine.
So sang the lads; and the goatherd thus bespoke them, ‘Sweet is thy
mouth, O Daphnis, and delectable thy song! Better is it to listen to thy
singing, than to taste the honeycomb. Take thou the pipe, for thou hast
conquered in the singing match. Ah, if thou wilt but teach some lay,
even to me, as I tend the goats beside thee, this blunt-horned she-goat
will I give thee, for the price of thy teaching, this she-goat that ever
fills the milking pail above the brim.’
Then was the boy as glad,—and leaped high, and clapped his hands over his
victory,—as a young fawn leaps about his mother. But the heart of the
other was wasted with grief, and desolate, even as a maiden sorrows that
is newly wed.
From this time Daphnis became the foremost among the shepherds, and while
yet in his earliest youth, he wedded the nymph Nais.