Works of Nonnus
Page 223
βαιὸν ἐμοῖ χέε δάκρυ, τόσον μόνον, ὅσσον ἐέρσαις
ἱμερτῆς ῥοδόεντα παρηίδος ἄκρα διαίνειν,
360 χειρὶ δὲ σεῖο χάραξον ἔπος τόδε πενθάδι μίλτῳ:
‘ἐνθάδε βουκόλος Ὕμνος, ὃν ἔκτανεν ἄμμορον εὐνῆς
παρθενικὴ Νίκαια καὶ ἐκτερέιξε θανόντα.’’
[342] “But if you kill me outright with your heartsoothing bow, maiden, pray do not burn my body on the usual pile: no other pyre I need; do but sprinkle upon me in death, my girl, sweet dust with your own hand, the last little grace, that one may say, ‘How the maiden pitied him whom she killed!’ And when I am dead, let not my fife, let not my cithern lie on my barrow, cast not there my herdsman’s crook, witness of my trade; but fix your weapon above the tomb of the slain, still drenched in the hapless lover’s gore. And give me another grace, the very last: above my tomb let there be flowers of passion-struck Narcissus, or saffron full of desire, or love’s flower the bind-weed; and in the spring-time plant the soon-dying anemone, proclaiming to all my youth too soon cut short. And if you were not born of the unmerciful sea or the mountains, drop a few tears on me, enough to damp with dew the rosy surface of your precious cheek, and with your own hand grave these words with funeral carmine: ‘Here lies oxherd Hymnos, whom the maiden Nicaia killed without share of her bed, and did the last rites for him when dead.’”
ὣς φαμένου Νίκαια χολώετο: λυσσαλέη δὲ
λοίγιον ἰοβόλου γυμνώσατο πῶμα φαρέτρης
365 καὶ βέλος ἰθυκέλευθον ἀνείρυσεν, ἐκταδίη δὲ
κυρτὸν ὀπισθοτόνοιο κέρας κυκλώσατο τόξου,
ἠνεμόεν δὲ βέλεμνον ἐς ἀνθερεῶνα νομῆος
φθεγγομένου προέηκε, καὶ ἄσχετος ἰὸς ἀλήτης
μῦθον ἔτι προχέοντα μέσῳ σφρηγίσσατο δεσμῷ.
[363] As he spoke, Nicaia grew angry. Madly she bared the baneful lid of the arrow-shooting quiver, and drew back a straight-coursing shot; to its full length she rounded the curved horn of the back-bent bow, like the wind she let fly a shot into the herdsman’s throat while he was speaking; irresistible the arrow sped, and in the midst of the stream of words sealed it with a fastening.
370 ἀλλ᾽ οὐ νεκρὸς ἄδακρυς ἔην τότε: μεμφομένη δὲ
ἀνδροφόνον Νίκαιαν ὀρεστιὰς ἄχνυτο Νύμφη,
μυρομένη νέκυν Ὕμνον: ἐν εὐύδρῳ δὲ μελάθρῳ
Ῥυνδακὶς ὑγροφόρητος ἀσάμβαλος ἔστενε κούρη:
νηιάδες δ᾽ ἔκλαυσαν: ὑπὲρ Σιπύλοιο δὲ γείτων
375 δάκρυσιν αὐτοχύτοις Νιόβης πλέον ἔστενε πέτρη.
κούρη δ᾽ ὁπλοτάτη, γαμίων ἔτι νῆις Ἐρώτων,
μή πω Βουκολίωνος ὁμιλήσασα χαμεύνῃ,
Νηὶς Ἀβαρβαρέη νεμεσίζετο πολλάκι νύμφῃ:
ἀμφὶ δέ Δίνδυμον ἄκρον ὁμήλυδες ἐγγύθι λόχμης
380 Ἀστακίδες μέμψαντο Κυβηλίδος ἤθεα νύμφης,
αἴλινα δ᾽ ἐφθέγξαντο: καὶ οὐ τόσον αἴθοπι πότμῳ
Ἡλιάδες Φαέθοντος ἐδακρύσαντο θανόντος.
καὶ φονίης ἀδάμαστον ὀπιπεύων φρένα κούρης
τόξον Ἔρως ἔρριψε, καὶ ὅρκιον ὤμοσε βούτην,
385 παρθενικὴν ἀέκουσαν ὑποζεῦξαι Διονύσῳ.
ὄμμασι δ᾽ ἀκλαύτοισι λεοντείων ἐπὶ δίφρων
Δινδυμὶς ἠιθέοιο δεδουπότος ἔστενε Ῥείη,
μήτηρ Ζηνός, ἄνασσα: καὶ ὀλλυμένου μόρον Ὕμνου
ἡ γάμον ἐχθαίρουσα κινύρετο παρθένος Ἠχώ.
390 καὶ δρύες ἐφθέγξαντο: ‘τί σοι τόσον ἤλιτε βούτης;
μή ποτέ σοι Κυθέρεια, μὴ Ἄρτεμις ἵλαος εἴη.’
[370] But the dead body was not without tears then. The Nymph of the mountain was sore offended at manslaying Nicaia, and lamented over the body of Hymnos; in her watery hall the girl of Rhyndacos groaned, carried along barefoot by the water; the Naiads wept, and up in Sipylos, the neighbouring rock of Niobe groaned yet more with tears that flow uncalled; the youngest girl of all, still unacquainted with wedded love, not yet having come to Bucolion’s pallet, the Naiad Abarbarea oft reproached the nymph; in the heights of Didymos, gathering near the woods, the Astacides upbraided the nymph of Cybele with her ways, singing the dirge, and not so loudly had the daughters of the Sun wept at the flaring fate of Phaëthon dead. And Eros, eyeing the untamed heart of the murderous girl, threw down his bow, and swore an oath by the oxherd, to bring the maiden unwilling under the yoke of Dionysos. Rheia Dindymis upon her lions’ car, with her tearless eyes, groaned for the gallant lad so heavily fallen, even the mother of Zeus, the queen; and maiden Echo who hated marriage whimpered at the lot of Hymnos perishing. Even the trees uttered a voice: “How did the oxherd offend you so much? May Cythereia never be merciful to you, Artemis never!”
ἔδρακε δ᾽ Ἀδρήστεια, μιαιφόνον ἔδρακε κούρην,
ἔδρακεν Ἀδρήστεια νέκυν σπαίροντα σιδήρῳ,
καὶ νέκυν ἀρτιδάικτον ἐδείκνυε Κυπρογενείῃ,
395 μέμψατο δ᾽ αὐτὸν Ἔρωτα. καὶ εὐπετάλῳ παρὰ λόχμῃ
ὕμνον ἐποικτείροντος ἐλείβετο δάκρυα ταύρου,
καὶ δάμαλις δάκρυσε, καὶ ἔστενεν ἀχνυμένη βοῦς
ποιμένος ἀσπαίροντος, ἔοικε δὲ τοῦτο βοῆσαι:
[392] Adrasteia saw the murderous girl, Adrasteia saw the body panting under the steel, and pointed out the newly slain corpse to the Cyprian, and upbraided Eros himself. Hard by the leafy woods tears were shed by the bull in pity for Hymnos, the young calf wept for him, the cow groaned for grief over the panting herdsman, and seemed to cry out these words:
‘Βούτης καλὸς ὄλωλε, καλὴ δέ μιν ἔκτανε κούρη.
400 παρθενικὴ ποθέοντα κατέκτανεν, ἀντὶ δὲ φίλτρων
πότμον μισθὸν ἔδωκε, ποθοβλήτου δὲ νομῆος
αἵματι χαλκὸν ἔβαψε καἰ ἔσβεσε πυρσὸν Ἐρώτων —
[399] “The handsome oxherd has perished, a handsome girl has killed him! A maiden has killed one who loved her; instead of love-charms she gave him his fate, she bathed her bronze in the blood of the love-smitten oxherd, and quenched the torch of love —
Βούτης καλὸς ὄλωλε, καλὴ δέ μιν ἔκτανε κούρη —
καὶ Νύμφας ἀκάχησεν, ὀρειάδος οὐ κλύε πέτρης,
405 οὐ πτελέης ἤκουσε καὶ οὐκ ᾐδέσσατο πεύκην
λισσομένην: ‘μὴ πέμπε βέλος, μὴ κτεῖνε νομῆα.’
‘καὶ λύκος ἔστενεν Ὕμνον, ἀναιδέες ἔστενον ἄρκτοι,
καὶ βλοσυροῖς βλεφάροισι λέων ὠδύρετο βούτην:
[403] “The handsome oxherd has perished, a handsome girl has killed him! And she has pained
the nymphs, she hearkened not to the mountain rock, she heard not the elm, and regarded not the prayer of the pine, ‘Shoot not your shot, slay not the oxherd!’ Even the wolf groaned for Hymnos, the merciless bears did groan, even the lion with grim eyes mourned for the oxherd.
‘Βούτης καλὸς ὄλωλε, καλὴ δέ μιν ἔκτανε κούρη.
410 ἄλλο λέπας δίζεσθε, βόες, μαστεύσατε, ταῦροι,
ξεῖνον ὄρος: ποθέων γὰρ ἐμὸς γλυκὺς ὤλετο βούτης.’
θηλυτέρῃ παλάμῃ δεδαϊγμένος. εἰς τίνα λόχμην
ἴχνος ἄγω; σώζεσθε, νομαί, σώζεσθε, χαμεῦναι.
[409] “The handsome oxherd has perished, a handsome girl has killed him! Look for another scaur, ye cattle, seek a strange mountain, ye bulls; for my sweet oxherd is perished of love, and mangled by a woman’s hand. To what woods shall I guide my track? Farewell, our pastures, farewell our beds on the ground!
‘Βούτης καλὸς ὄλωλε, καλὴ δέ μιν ἔκτανε κούρη.
415 χαίρετέ μοι, σκοπιαί τε καὶ οὔρεα, χαίρετε, πηγαί,
χαίρετε, Νηιάδες, καὶ ἐμαὶ δρύες.’ ἀμφότεροι δὲ
Πὰν νόμιος καὶ Φοῖβος ἀνίαχον: ‘αὐλός ἀλάσθω.
πῇ Νέμεσις; πῇ Κύπρις; ἔρως, μὴ ψαῦε φαρέτρης:
σύριγξ, μηκέτι μέλπε: λιγύθροος ὤλετο βούτης.’
[414] “The handsome oxherd has perished, a handsome girl has killed him! Goodbye, mountains and promontories, goodbye, ye brooks, goodbye, Naiads, and my trees!” Both Pan of the pastures and Phoibos cried aloud, “A curse on the fife! Where is Nemesis? Where is Cypris? Eros, handle not your quiver; ye pipes, make music no more; the harmonious oxherd has perished!”
420 δειλαίου δὲ νομῆος ἀμεμφέα λύθρον Ἐρώτων
γνωτῇ φοῖβος ἔδειξε, καὶ ἔστενεν Ἄρτεμις αὐτὴ
ὕμνου νεκρὸν ἔρωτα, καὶ εἰ πέλε νῆις Ἐρώτων.
[420] Apollo showed his sister the lovemurder of the unhappy herdsman without blame; even Artemis herself groaned the dead love of Hymnos, although she was unacquainted with love.
BOOK 16
ἕκτῳ καὶ δεκάτῳ γαμίην Νίκαιαν ἀείδω,
εὐνέτιν ὑπνώουσαν ἀκοιμήτου Διονύσου.
οὐδὲ φόνος νήποινος ἔην κινυροῖο νομῆος,
ἀλλὰ λαβὼν ἑὰ τόξα καὶ ἱμερόεν βέλος ἕλκων
θοῦρος Ἔρως ἀίδηλος ἐθωρήχθη Διονύσῳ
ἑζομένῳ παρὰ χεῖλος ἐυκροκάλου ποταμοῖο.
BOOK XVI
In the sixteenth, I sing Nicaia the bride, in her sleep the bedfellow of unresting Dionysos.
THE death of the plaintive shepherd was not unavenged; but valiant Eros caught up his bow and drew a shaft of desire, arming unseen himself against Dionysos as he sat by the bank of the pebbly stream.
5 καὶ ταχινὴ Νίκαια, μετὰ δρόμον ἠθάδος ἄγρης
ἄσχετον ἱδρώουσα φιλοσκοπέλων ἀπὸ μόχθων,
γυμνὸν ὀρεσσιχύτοισι δέμας φαίδρυνε λοετροῖς.
οὐ μὲν Ἔρως δήθυνεν ἑκηβόλος: ἀμφὶ δὲ νευρῇ
ἀκροφανῆ πώγωνα βαλὼν πτερόεντος ὀιστοῦ
10 τόξον ἑὸν κύκλωσεν, ἐρωμανέος δὲ Λυαίου
ἐν κραδίῃ κατέπηξεν ὅλον βέλος. ἐν δὲ ῥεέθροις
νηχομένην Διόνυσος ἰδὼν γυμνόχροα κούρην
ἡδυμανῆ πυρόεντι νόον δεδόνητο βελέμνῳ.
ἤιε δ᾽ ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα, λαγωβόλος ὁππόθι κούρη,
15 πῇ μὲν ὀπιπεύων ἑλικώδεα βόστρυχα χαίτης
εἰς δρόμον ἱεμένης δεδονημένα κυκλάσιν αὔραις,
πῇ δὲ παρελκομένων πλοκάμων στίλβοντα δοκεύων
αὐχένα γυμνωθέντα, σέλας πέμποντα Σελήνης:
καὶ Σατύρων ἀμέλησε καὶ οὐκέτι τέρπετο Βάκχαις:
20 παπταίνων δ᾽ ἐς Ὄλυμπον ἐρωτοτόκῳ φάτο φωνῇ:
[5] Fleet Nicaia had finished her wonted hunt for game; sweating and tired by hard work in her beloved highlands, she was bathing her bare body in a mountain cascade. Now longshot Eros made no delay. He set the endshining beard of a winged arrow to the string, and rounded his bow, and buried the whole shot in the heart of love-maddened Lyaios. Then Dionysos saw the girl swimming in the water bareskin, and his mind was shaken with sweet madness by the fiery shaft. This way and that he went, wherever the maiden harehuntress went: now eyeing the clustering curls of her hair, shaken by the circling breezes as she hurried on her course; spying her bright neck, when the tresses moved aside and bared it till it gleamed like the moon. He cared not for Satyrs now, he had no pleasure in Bacchants; but gazing at Olympos, he cried in a love-compelling voice:
‘ἵξομαι, ἧχι πέλει δροσερὸς δρόμος, ἧχι φαρέτρη,
ἧχι βέλος καὶ τόξον ἐπήρατον, ἧχι καὶ αὐταὶ
παρθενικῆς ἀγάμοιο μύρου πνείουσι χαμεῦναι:
φαύσω καὶ σταλίκων καὶ δίκτυα χερσὶ πετάσσω:
25 ἀγρώσσω καὶ ἔγωγε καὶ ἠθάδα νεβρὸν ὀλέσσω.
εἰ δέ μοι ὡς βαρύθυμος ὀνειδίσσειεν Ἀμαζὼν
θῆλυν ἐρευγομένη μελιηδέος ὄγκον ἀπειλῆς,
κούρης χωομένης ἐπὶ γούνασι χεῖρα πελάσσω,
ψαύων ὡς ἱκέτης ἐρατοῦ χροός, οὐ μὲν ἐλαίης
30 θαλλὸν ἀερτάζων, ὅτι δένδρεόν ἐστιν Ἀθήνης
παρθενικῆς ἀγάμου καὶ ἀθελγέος, ἀντὶ δὲ πικροῦ
ἀκρεμόνος λιπόωντος ἐμῇ μελιηδέι νύμφῃ
οἴνοπα καρπὸν ἔχοντα μελιρραθάμιγγος ὀπώρης
[21] I will be there, where the dewy chase goes on, where the quiver is, where the bolt and the precious bow, where the very groundpallet is perfumed from the unwedded maiden; I will handle her stakes, and stretch her nets with my own hands: I also will go a-hunting, and kill a fawn like her. And if she scolds me, like some heavytempered Amazon, disgorging womanlike her load of honeysweet threatenings, I will lay my hand on the knees of the angry girl, and touch of her lovely skin like a suppliant; but I will carry aloft no spray of olive, because that is the tree of Athena, the maiden unwedded and unsoftened; instead of that bitter oily branch, I will lift to my honeysweet nymph a suppliant cluster of grapes, which contains the purple fruit of honeydropping vintage.
βότρυν ἀερτάζων ἱκετήσιον. ἣν δὲ χαλέψῃ
35 παρθένος ἀγκυλότοξος, ἐμῷ χροῒ μὴ δόρυ πήξῃ,
μὴ βέλος αὗ ἐρύσειε μιαιφόνον, αἰδομένη δὲ
ἀκροτάτῳ πλήξειεν ἐμὸν δέμας ἡδέι τόξῳ:
πληγῆς οὐκ ἀλέγω φρενοθελγέος. ἣν δ᾽ ἐθελήσῃ,
ἱμερταῖς παλάμῃσιν ἐμῶν δράξαι�
�ο κομάων,
40 σφιγγομένης ἐρύουσα θελήμονα βόστρυχα χαίτης.
οὐ μὲν ἐρητύσω ποτὲ παρθένον, ὡς κοτέων δὲ
δεξιτερὴν σφίγγουσαν ἀφειδέι χειρὶ πιέζω
δάκτυλα φοινίσσοντα λαβὼν γαμψώνυχι δεσμῷ,
Κυπριδίου καμάτοιο παρήγορα: παρθενικὴ γὰρ
[34] “If the crookbow virgin is vexed, let her not pierce my flesh with a lance, nor draw her murderous shot, let her be merciful and tap my body with the tip of her sweet bow: I do not mind a blow that soothes the heart! If it please her, let her hold the shag fast and pull my hair with her precious hands, she may tear out some of the braids and welcome! I will never fend off the maiden; but I will pretend to be cross, and squeeze with unsparing hand the right hand which holds me fast. I will hold the pink fingers imprisoned in my hooked talons, to soothe my love-longing. For the maiden has made prey of all the Olympian beauty.
45 κάλλος ὅλον σύλησεν Ὀλύμπιον. ἵλαθι, Κέρνη:
Ἀστακὶς ἐβλάστησε νέη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
ἄλλη ἀνηέξητο φαεσφόρος: ὁπλοτέρη γὰρ
ἔμπεδον εἶδος ἔχουσα πέλει Νίκαια Σελήνη.
ἤθελον ἱμείρων πολυδαίδαλον εἶδος ἀμεῖψαι:
50 εἰ μὴ ἐρητύει με σέβας πατρώιον αἰδοῦς,
καί κεν ἐγὼ Τυρίοιο δι᾽ ὕδατος ὑγροπόρος βοῦς
ἄβροχον ἐν πελάγεσσιν ἐμὴν Νίκαιαν ἀείρων
ἔπλεον, Εὐρώπης ἅτε νυμφίος, ὡς ἀέκων δἐ
νῶτον ἐμὸν δονέεσκον, ὀρινομένης ἵνα κούρης
55 δεξιτερὴ πάνλευκος ἐμῆς δράξαιτο κεραίης.