MOSCHUS

OUR only certain information about Moschus is contained in his own Dirge

for Bion. He speaks of his verse as ‘Ausonian song,’ and of himself as

Mion’s pupil and successor. It is plain that he was acquainted with the

poems of Theocritus.

IDYL I

LOVE THE RUNAWAY

CYPRIS was raising the hue and cry for Love, her child,—‘Who, where the

three ways meet, has seen Love wandering? He is my runaway, whosoever

has aught to tell of him shall win his reward. His prize is the kiss of

Cypris, but if thou bringest him, not the bare kiss, O stranger, but yet

more shalt thou win. The child is most notable, thou couldst tell him

among twenty together, his skin is not white, but flame coloured, his

eyes are keen and burning, an evil heart and a sweet tongue has he, for

his speech and his mind are at variance. Like honey is his voice, but

his heart of gall, all tameless is he, and deceitful, the truth is not in

him, a wily brat, and cruel in his pastime. The locks of his hair are

lovely, but his brow is impudent, and tiny are his little hands, yet far

he shoots his arrows, shoots even to Acheron, and to the King of Hades.

‘The body of Love is naked, but well is his spirit hidden, and winged

like a bird he flits and descends, now here, now there, upon men and

women, and nestles in their inmost hearts. He hath a little bow, and an

arrow always on the string, tiny is the shaft, but it carries as high as

heaven. A golden quiver on his back he bears, and within it his bitter

arrows, wherewith full many a time he wounds even me.

‘Cruel are all these instruments of his, but more cruel by far the little

torch, his very own, wherewith he lights up the sun himself.

‘And if thou catch Love, bind him, and bring him, and have no pity, and

if thou see him weeping, take heed lest he give thee the slip; and if he

laugh, hale him along.

‘Yea, and if he wish to kiss thee, beware, for evil is his kiss, and his

lips enchanted.

‘And should he say, “Take these, I give thee in free gift all my

armoury,” touch not at all his treacherous gifts, for they all are dipped

in fire.’

IDYL II

EUROPA AND THE BULL

TO Europa, once on a time, a sweet dream was sent by Cypris, when the

third watch of the night sets in, and near is the dawning; when sleep

more sweet than honey rests on the eyelids, limb-loosening sleep, that

binds the eyes with his soft bond, when the flock of truthful dreams

fares wandering.

At that hour she was sleeping, beneath the roof-tree of her home, Europa,

the daughter of Phoenix, being still a maid unwed. Then she beheld two

Continents at strife for her sake, Asia, and the farther shore, both in

the shape of women. Of these one had the guise of a stranger, the other

of a lady of that land, and closer still she clung about her maiden, and

kept saying how ‘she was her mother, and herself had nursed Europa.’ But

that other with mighty hands, and forcefully, kept haling the maiden,

nothing loth; declaring that, by the will of Ægis-bearing Zeus, Europa

was destined to be her prize.

But Europa leaped forth from her strown bed in terror, with beating

heart, in such clear vision had she beheld the dream. Then she sat upon

her bed, and long was silent, still beholding the two women, albeit with

waking eyes; and at last the maiden raised her timorous voice

‘Who of the gods of heaven has sent forth to me these phantoms? What

manner of dreams have scared me when right sweetly slumbering on my

strown bed, within my bower? Ah, and who was the alien woman that I

beheld in my sleep? How strange a longing for her seized my heart, yea,

and how graciously she herself did welcome me, and regard me as it had

been her own child.

‘Ye blessed gods, I pray you, prosper the fulfilment of the dream.’

Therewith she arose, and began to seek the dear maidens of her company,

girls of like age with herself, born in the same year, beloved of her

heart, the daughters of noble sires, with whom she was always wont to

sport, when she was arrayed for the dance, or when she would bathe her

bright body at the mouths of the rivers, or would gather fragrant lilies

on the leas.

And soon she found them, each bearing in her hand a basket to fill with

flowers, and to the meadows near the salt sea they set forth, where

always they were wont to gather in their company, delighting in the

roses, and the sound of the waves. But Europa herself bore a basket of

gold, a marvel well worth gazing on, a choice work of Hephaestus. He

gave it to Libya, for a bridal-gift, when she approached the bed of the

Shaker of the Earth, and Libya gave it to beautiful Telephassa, who was

of her own blood; and to Europa, still an unwedded maid, her mother,

Telephassa, gave the splendid gift.

Many bright and cunning things were wrought in the basket: therein was

Io, daughter of Inachus, fashioned in gold; still in the shape of a

heifer she was, and had not her woman’s shape, and wildly wandering she

fared upon the salt sea-ways, like one in act to swim; and the sea was

wrought in blue steel. And aloft upon the double brow of the shore, two

men were standing together and watching the heifer’s sea-faring. There

too was Zeus, son of Cronos, lightly touching with his divine hand the

cow of the line of Inachus, and her, by Nile of the seven streams, he was

changing again, from a horned heifer to a woman. Silver was the stream

of Nile, and the heifer of bronze and Zeus himself was fashioned in gold.

And all about, beneath the rim of the rounded basket, was the story of

Hermes graven, and near him lay stretched out Argus, notable for his

sleepless eyes. And from the red blood of Argus was springing a bird

that rejoiced in the flower-bright colour of his feathers, and spreading

abroad his tail, even as some swift ship on the sea doth spread all

canvas, was covering with his plumes the lips of the golden vessel. Even

thus was wrought the basket of the lovely Europa.

Now the girls, so soon as they were come to the flowering meadows, took

great delight in various sorts of flowers, whereof one would pluck

sweet-breathed narcissus, another the hyacinth, another the violet, a

fourth the creeping thyme, and on the ground there fell many petals of

the meadows rich with spring. Others again were emulously gathering the

fragrant tresses of the yellow crocus; but in the midst of them all the

princess culled with her hand the splendour of the crimson rose, and

shone pre-eminent among them all like the foam-born goddess among the

Graces. Verily she was not for long to set her heart’s delight upon the

flowers, nay, nor long to keep untouched her maiden girdle. For of a

truth, the son of Cronos, so soon as he beheld her, was troubled, and his

heart was subdued by the sudden shafts of Cypris, who alone can conquer

even Zeus. Therefore, both to avoid the wrath of jealous Hera, and being

eager to beguile the maiden’s tender heart, he concealed his godhead, and

changed his shape, and became a bull. Not such an one as feeds in the

stall nor such as cleaves the furrow, and drags the curved plough, nor

such as grazes on the grass, nor such a bull as is subdued beneath the

yoke, and draws the burdened wain. Nay, but while all the rest of his

body was bright chestnut, a silver circle shone between his brows, and

his eyes gleamed softly, and ever sent forth lightning of desire. From

his brow branched horns of even length, like the crescent of the horned

moon, when her disk is cloven in twain. He came into the meadow, and his

coming terrified not the maidens, nay, within them all wakened desire to

draw nigh the lovely bull, and to touch him, and his heavenly fragrance

was scattered afar, exceeding even the sweet perfume of the meadows. And

he stood before the feet of fair Europa, and kept licking her neck, and

cast his spell over the maiden. And she still caressed him, and gently

with her hands she wiped away the deep foam from his lips, and kissed the

bull. Then he lowed so gently, ye would think ye heard the Mygdonian

flute uttering a dulcet sound.

He bowed himself before her feet, and, bending back his neck, he gazed on

Europa, and showed her his broad back. Then she spake among her

deep-tressed maidens, saying—

‘Come, dear playmates, maidens of like age with me, let us mount the bull

here and take our pastime, for truly, he will bear us on his back, and

carry all of us; and how mild he is, and dear, and gentle to behold, and

no whit like other bulls. A mind as honest as a man’s possesses him, and

he lacks nothing but speech.’

So she spake, and smiling, she sat down on the back of the bull, and the

others were about to follow her. But the bull leaped up immediately, now

he had gotten her that he desired, and swiftly he sped to the deep. The

maiden turned, and called again and again to her dear playmates,

stretching out her hands, but they could not reach her. The strand he

gained, and forward he sped like a dolphin, faring with unwetted hooves

over the wide waves. And the sea, as he came, grew smooth, and the

sea-monsters gambolled around, before the feet of Zeus, and the dolphin

rejoiced, and rising from the deeps, he tumbled on the swell of the sea.

The Nereids arose out of the salt water, and all of them came on in

orderly array, riding on the backs of sea-beasts. And himself, the

thund’rous Shaker of the World, appeared above the sea, and made smooth

the wave, and guided his brother on the salt sea path; and round him were

gathered the Tritons, these hoarse trumpeters of the deep, blowing from

their long conches a bridal melody.

Meanwhile Europa, riding on the back of the divine bull, with one hand

clasped the beast’s great horn, and with the other caught up the purple

fold of her garment, lest it might trail and be wet in the hoar sea’s

infinite spray. And her deep robe was swelled out by the winds, like the

sail of a ship, and lightly still did waft the maiden onward. But when

she was now far off from her own country, and neither sea-beat headland

nor steep hill could now be seen, but above, the air, and beneath, the

limitless deep, timidly she looked around, and uttered her voice, saying—

‘Whither bearest thou me, bull-god? What art thou? how dost thou fare on

thy feet through the path of the sea-beasts, nor fearest the sea? The

sea is a path meet for swift ships that traverse the brine, but bulls

dread the salt sea-ways. What drink is sweet to thee, what food shalt

thou find from the deep? Nay, art thou then some god, for godlike are

these deeds of thine? Lo, neither do dolphins of the brine fare on land,

nor bulls on the deep, but dreadless dost thou rush o’er land and sea

alike, thy hooves serving thee for oars.

‘Nay, perchance thou wilt rise above the grey air, and flee on high, like

the swift birds. Alas for me, and alas again, for mine exceeding evil

fortune, alas for me that have left my father’s house, and following this

bull, on a strange sea-faring I go, and wander lonely. But I pray thee

that rulest the grey salt sea, thou Shaker of the Earth, propitious meet

me, and methinks I see thee smoothing this path of mine before me. For

surely it is not without a god to aid, that I pass through these paths of

the waters!’