by Longus
And when they had found that all were feeding orderly, both goats and sheep, sitting down upon the trunk of an oak they began curiously to search whether he had hurt any limb in that terrible fall. But nothing was hurt, nothing bloodied; only his hair and the rest of his body were dirtied by mud and the soil which covered over and hid the trap. And therefore they thought it best before the accident was made known to Lamo and Myrtale, that he should wash himself in the cave of the Nymphs.
13. And coming there together with Chloe, he gave her his scrip and his shirt to hold, and standing by the spring fell to washing himself from top to toe. Now his hair was long and black, and his body all brown and sunburnt, insomuch that the one seemed to have taken colour from the shadow of the tother; and to Chloe’s eye he seemed of a sweet and beautiful aspect, and when she wondered that she had not deemed him such before, she thought it must be the washing that was the cause of it. And when she washed his back and shoulders the flesh yielded so softly and gently to her hand, that again and again she privily touched herself to see if hers were more delicate than his. Sunset now coming on, they drove home their flocks, and that night there was but one thing in Chloe’s mind, and that the wish she might see Daphnis at his washing again.
When they came out to pasture in the morning, and Daphnis, sitting down under the oak where they were wont, played his pipe and watched the flocks that lay around as if to listen to the music of it, Chloe, sitting close by, although she looked well after her sheep, looked better after Daphnis. And piping there, he seemed again to her goodly and beautiful to look to, and wondering again, she thought the cause must be the music; and so, when he was done, took the pipe from him and played, if haply she herself might be as beautiful. Then she asked him if he would come again to the bath, and when she persuaded him, watched him at it; and as she watched, put out her hand and touched him; and before she went home had praised his beauty, and that praise was the beginning of love.
What her passion was she knew not, for she was but a young girl and bred up among clowns, and as for love, had never so much as heard the name of it. But her heart was vexed within her, her eyes, whether she would or no, wandered hither and thither, and her speaking was ever Daphnis this and Daphnis that. She could neither eat nor take her rest; she neglected her flock; now she would laugh and now would weep, now would be sleeping and then again up and doing; and if her cheek was pale, in a twink it was flaming red. In sum, no heifer stung with a breese was so resty and changeable as the poor Chloe.
And one day when she was alone she made such lamentation as this: 14. “I am sick now, but of what disease? I know not, save that I feel pain and there is no wound. I mourn, though none of my sheep is dead. I burn, and here I sit in the deepest shade. How many the briers have torn me, and I have not wept! How many the bees have stung me, and I have not squeaked! But this that pricks my heart is worse to bear than any of those. Daphnis is fair, but so are the flowers; and fair the sound of his pipe, but so is the voice of the nightingales: and yet I care nothing for those. Would to God I might have been his pipe that his mouth might inspirit me, or a goat that he might be my keeper! Thou cruel water! thou hast made Daphnis beautiful, but I for all my washing am still the same. Alas! sweet Nymphs, I am undone, and you will not lift a hand to save your fosterling. Whence shall you get garlands when I am gone? or who shall bring up my poor lambs, and tend the prattling locust I was at such pains to catch? I used to set him before the cave to lull me to sleep with his pretty song, but now long of Daphnis I am fain to watch, and my locust prattles on in vain.”
15. In such case was Chloe, and with such words she spoke, in her seeking after the name of love. But the oxherd Dorco (he that had drawn Daphnis and the he-goat out of the pit), a stripling of the first down, acquainted alike with the name and the works of love, not only on that day was straightway struck with love of Chloe, but every day that followed it he was the more inflamed, till at last, despising Daphnis for a child, he determined either by gifts or force to have his way.
For a beginning he brought them gifts, to Daphnis a pastoral pipe of nine quills bound with brass for wax, and to Chloe a fawnskin of the sort that Bacchae use, the colour of it like the colours of a painted picture. Soon they believed him their friend, and he by little and little neglecting Daphnis came to bring Chloe every day either a dainty cheese or a garland of flowers or two or three early apples. And one day he brought her a young calf, a gilded tankard, and a nest of mountain birds. The simple girl, that knew nothing of lovers’ tricks and wiles, accepts the gifts with joy; for now she herself had something to give Daphnis.
And thus (for Daphnis too must then know the works of love) one day there arises between him and Dorco a strife and contention of beauty, and the judge was Chloe, and the prize to kiss Chloe. Dorco spoke first: 16. “I, sweet girl, am taller then Daphnis, and an oxherd. He is but a goatherd, and therefore, as goats are of less account then oxen, so much the worser man. I am as white as milk, and my hair as ruddy as the fields before harvest, and what is more, I had a mother, not a beast, to my nurse. But this fellow is of little stature; he has no more beard then a woman, and is as black as a wolf. Moreover he tends he-goats, as any may know by his rankness. And he’s so poor that he could not keep a dog. And if what they say is true, that he was suckled and nursed up by a she-goat, he is every whit as much a kid as any in these fields.”
This and the like said Dorco, when Daphnis began thus: “ As for me, my foster-mother was a goat, and so was Jove’s; and if I tend he-goats, yet are they finer than this fellow’s cows; and I carry no taint of them neither, for even Pan himself, for all he is more goat then man, is as sweet company as can be. And as for my living, I have plenty cheese and rye-bread to eat, and good store of white wine to drink, and indeed all that makes a rustic rich is ready to my hand. If I have no beard to my chin, neither has Bacchus; if I am black, so is the hyacinth; and yet Bacchus is better then a Satyr and the hyacinth then a lily. But this man, look you, is red as a fox, bearded as a goat, and white and pale as a city wench. And if kissing is toward, you may come at my lips, but his kiss is a thing of hairs and bristles. And lastly, sweet girl, I pray you remember that you too had a mother of the flock, and yet you are of sweet and beautiful aspect.”
17. This said, Chloe tarried no longer, but what with his praise of her beauty and her long desiring to kiss him, she started up and gave him a kiss; and though it were the kiss of a novice, ’twas enough to heat and inflame a lover’s heart. With that, Dorco in an agony betakes himself off to seek other means to win his end. But Daphnis, more like one that is bitten than kissed, was suddenly downcast and sad. He went often cold, and laid hand to his panting heart. He was fain to look upon Chloe, and yet looking was all on a blush. Then too for the first time he marvelled at her hair golden as fire, and her eyes great and gentle like the kine’s, and bethought him that her face was truly as white as the milk of his goats. Indeed ’twas as if hitherto he had no eyes. And he would none of his meat but a taste in the mouthy nor yet of his drink, if drink he must, save so much as to wet his lips. He that prattled aforetime like a locust, opened not his mouth, he that used to be as resty and gadabout as a goat, sate ever still. His flock was neglected, his pipe flung aside, his cheeks grew paler then grass in season. For Chloe only he found his tongue.
And if ever she left him alone, he fell to mutter with himself such fancies as these: 18. “Whither in the name of the Nymphs will that kiss of Chloe drive me? Her lips are softer then roses, and her mouth sweeter then the honeycombs, but her kiss stings sharper then a bee. I have often kissed the young kids, I have kissed a pretty whippet and that calf which Dorco gave me, but this kiss is a new thing. My heart leaps up to my lips, my spirit sparkles and my soul melts, and yet I am mad to kiss her again. Oh what a mischievous victory is this! Oh what a strange disease, whose very name I know not! Did Chloe take poison before she kissed me? How then is she not dead? How sweetly sing the nightingales, while my pipe is silent! How wantonly the kids sk
ip, and I lie still upon the ground! How sweetly do the flowers grow, and I neglect to make garlands! So it is, the violet and the hyacinth flourish, but alas! Daphnis, Daphnis withers. And will it come at length to this, that Dorco shall appear hereafter handsomer then I?”
19. These passions and complaints the good Daphnis felt and murmured to himself, as now first beginning to taste of the works and language of love. But Dorco, the herdsman that loved Chloe, waiting till Dryas was planting the scions of his vines near by, came to him with certain fine cheeses and presented him withal, as one who had long been his acquaintance and friend when he himself tended cattle. And taking his rise from thence, he cast in word! about the marrying of Chloe, and, if he might have her to his wife, promised many and great gifts according to the estate of herdsmen: a yoke of oxen for the plough, four hives of bees, fifty choice young apple-trees, a good bull-hide to make shoes, every year a weaned calf. So that it wanted but a little that allured by these gifts Dryas did not promise Chloe. But when he had recollected himself and found the maid deserved a better husband, and likewise that he had reason to fear, lest at any time, being deprehended to have given her to a clown, he should fall into a mischief from which he could no way then escape, he desires to be excused, denies the marriage, rejects the gifts.
20. But Dorco, falling again from his hope and losing his good cheeses, resolves with himself to lay his clutches upon Chloe if ever he could catch her alone. And having observed that by turns one day Daphnis, the next the girl, drove the flocks to watering, he practised a trick not unbecoming one that tended a herd of cattle. He took the skin of a huge wolf, which formerly a bull fighting for the herd had killed with his horns, and flung it o’er his back, and it dangled down to his feet; so that the fore-feet were drawn on his hands, the hinder over his thighs to his heels, and the gaping of the mouth covered his head like the helmet of an armed man. When he was got into this lycanthropy as well as possibly he could, he makes to the fountain where the flocks after their feeding used to drink. But that fountain lay in a bottom, and about it all the place was rough with bushes, thorns, brakes, thistles, and the brush juniper, so that indeed a true wolf might very well lie lurking there.
Therefore, when he had hid himself, he waited the time when the cattle were driven thither to drink, and conceived no small hope that in that habit he should affray and so snap the poor Chloe. 21. After a while she left Daphnis shaking down green leaves for the kids, and drove the flocks down to the fountain. But the flockdogs of the sheep and the goats, following Chloe and (so busy upon the scent are dogs wont to be) catching Dorco in the act to go to set upon the girl, barked furiously and made at him as at a wolf, and before he could wholly rise from the lurk because of the sudden consternation, were all about the wolf-Dorco and biting at his skin. However, fearing lest he should be manifestly discovered, blamed, and shamed, guarding himself as he could with the skin he lay close and still in the thicket. But when Chloe was feared at the first sight and cried out to Daphnis for help, the dogs soon tore his vizard off, tattered the skin, and bit him soundly. Then he roared and cried out amain, and begged for help of Chloe and of Daphnis who was now come up. They rated off the dogs with their usual known recalls, and quickly made them quiet, and they led Dorco, who was tom in the shoulder and the thigh, to the fountain; and where they found the dogs had left the print of their teeth, there they gently washed, and chawing in their mouths the green rine of the elm, applied it softly to his wounds.
Now because of their unskilfulness in amorous adventures, they thought Dorco’s disguising and hiding of himself was nothing else but a pastoral prank, and were not at all moved at it. But endeavouring rather to cheer him, and leading him by the hand some part of his way, they bid him farewell and dismissed him. 22. Thus came Dorco out of great danger, and he that was saved from the jaws, not of the wolf in the adage, but of the dog, went home and dressed his wounds. But Daphnis and Chloe had much ado to get together, before it was late in the evening, their scattered struggling sheep and goats. For they were terrified with the wolfskin and the fierce barking and baying of the dogs, and some ran up the steep crags, some ran on rucks and hurried down to the seashore, although they were taught not only to obey the voice and be quieted by the pipe, but to be driven up together even by the clapping of the hands. But fear had cast in an oblivion of all, so that at length with much stir, following their steps like hares by the foot, they drave them home to their own folds.
That night alone Daphnis and Chloe slept soundly, and found that weariness was some kind of remedy for the passion of love. But as soon as the day appeared they fell again to these fits. When they saw one another they were passing joyful, and sad if it chanced that they were parted. They desired, and yet they knew not what they would have. Only this one thing they knew, that kissing had destroyed Daphnis and bathing had undone Chloe.
Now besides this, the season of the year inflamed and burnt them. 23. For now the cooler spring was ended and the summer was come on, and all things were got to their highest flourishing, the trees with their fruits, the fields with standing corn. Sweet then was the singing of the grasshoppers, sweet was the odour of the fruits, and not unpleasant the very bleating of the sheep. A man would have thought that the very rivers, by their gentle gliding away, did sing; and that the softer gales of wind did play and whistle on the pines that the apples, as languishing with love, fell down upon the ground; and that the Sun, as a lover of beauty unveiled, did strive to undress and turn the rurals all naked. By all these was Daphnis inflamed, and therefore often he goes to the rivers and brooks, there to bathe and cool himself, or to chase the fish that went to and fro in the water. And often he drinks of the clear purls, as thinking by that to quench his inward caum and scorching.
When Chloe had milked the sheep and most of the goats and had spent much time and labour (because the flies were importune and vexatious, and would sting if one chased them) to curdle and press the milk into cheeses, she would wash herself and crown her head with pine-twigs, and when she had girt her fawnskin about her, take her piggin and with wine and milk make a sillibub for her dear Daphnis and herself.
24. When it grew towards noon they would fall to their catching of one another by their eyes. For Chloe, seeing Daphnis naked, was all eyes for his beauty to view it every whit; and therefore could not choose but melt, as being not able to find in him the least moment to dislike or blame. Daphnis again, if he saw Chloe, in her fawnskin and her pine coronet, give him the sillibub to drink, thought he saw one of the Nymphs of the holy cave. Therefore taking oft her pine and kissing it o’er and o’er, he would put it on his own head; and Chloe, when he was naked and bathing, would in her turn take up his vest, and when she kissed it, put it on upon herself. Sometimes now they flung apples at one another, and dressed and distinguished one another’s hair into curious trammels and locks. And Chloe likened Daphnis his hair to the myrtle because it was black; Daphnis, again, because her face was white and ruddy, compared it to the fairest apple. He taught her too to play on the pipe, and always when she began to blow would catch the pipe away from her lips and run it presently o’er with his. He seemed to teach her when she was out, but with that specious pretext, by the pipe, he kissed Chloe.
25. But it happened, when he played on his pipe at noon and the cattle took shade, that Chloe fell unawares asleep. Daphnis observed it and laid down his pipe, and without any shame or fear was bold to view her, all over and every limb, insatiably; and withal spoke softly thus:—” What sweet eyes are those that sleep! How sweetly breathes that rosy mouth! The apples smell not like to it, nor the flowery lawns and thickets. But I am afraid to kiss her. For her kiss stings to my heart and makes me mad like new honey. Besides, I fear lest a kiss should chance to wake her. Oh the prating grasshoppers! they make a noise to break her sleep. And the goats beside are fighting, and they clatter with their horns. Oh the wolves, worse dastards then the foxes, that they have not ravished them away!”
26. While he was muttering thi
s passion, a grasshopper that fled from a swallow took sanctuary in Chloe’s bosom. And the pursuer could not take her, but her wing by reason of her close pursuit slapped the girl upon the cheek. And she not knowing what was done cried out, and started from her sleep. But when she saw the swallow flying near by and Daphnis laughing at her fear, she began to give it over and rub her eyes that yet would be sleeping. The grasshopper sang out of her bosom, as if her suppliant were now giving thanks for the protection. Therefore Chloe again squeaked out; but Daphnis could not hold laughing, nor pass the opportunity to put his hand into her bosom and draw forth friend Grasshopper, which still did sing even in his hand. When Chloe saw it she was pleased and kissed it, and took and put it in her bosom again, and it prattled all the way.
27. But besides these the stock-dove did delight them too, and sang from the woods her country song. But Chloe, desiring to know, asked Daphnis what that complaint of the stock-dove meant And he told her the tradition of the ancient shepherds: “There was once, maiden, a very fair maid who kept many cattle in the woods. She was skilful in music, and her herds were so taken with her voice and pipe, that they needed not the discipline of the staff or goad, but sitting under a pine and wearing a coronet of the same she would sing of Pan and the Pine, and her cows would never wander out of her voice. There was a youth that kept his herd not far off, and he also was fair and musical, but as he tried with all his skill to emulate her notes and tones, he played a louder strain as a male, and yet sweet as being young, and so allured from the maid’s herd eight of her best cows to his own. She took it ill that her herd was so diminished and in very deep disdain that she was his inferior at the art, and presently prayed to the Gods that she might be transformed to a bird before she did return home. The Gods consent, and turned her thus into a mountain bird, because the maid did haunt there, and musical, as she had been. And singing still to this day she publishes her heavy chance and demands her truant cows again.”
