by Nonnus
εὐφροσύνης κήρυκα βιοζυγέων ὑμεναίων.’
180 εἶπε θεά: καὶ μάργος Ἔρως ἀνεπάλλετο κόλπου
μητρὸς ἑῆς, καὶ τόξον ἐκούφισεν, ἀμφὶ δὲ βαιῷ
ὤμῳ πανδαμάτειρον ἐπῃώρησε φαρέτρην:
καὶ πτερόεις πεπότητο δι᾽ αἰθέρος: ἀμφὶ δὲ Κέρνῃ
κυκλώσας πτερὰ κοῦφα βολαῖς ἀντώπιος Ἠοῦς
185 ἵπτατο μειδιόων, ὅτι τηλίκον ἡνιοχῆα
δίφρων οὐρανίων ὀλίγοις ἔφλεξε βελέμνοις,
καὶ σέλας Ἠελίοιο σέλας νίκησεν Ἐρώτων.
καὶ ταχὺς Ἰνδῴοιο μολὼν κατὰ μέσσον ὁμίλου
τόξον ἑὸν στήριζεν ἐπ᾽ αὐχένι Χαλκομεδείης:
190 καὶ βέλος ἰθύνων ῥοδέης περὶ κύκλα παρειῆς
Μορρέος εἰς φρένα πέμψεν, ἐρετμώσας δὲ πορείην
νηχομένων πτερύγων ἑτερόζυγι σύνδρομος ὁλκῷ
πατρῴους ἀνέβαινεν ἐς ἀστερόεντας ὀχῆας,
καλλείψας πυρόεντι πεπαρμένον Ἰνδὸν ὀιστῷ.
[149] My dear child, you have forgotten Phaethon and Cythereia! Pasiphae no longer wants the bull’s love. Helios mocks at me, and arms the offspring of Astris, the warrior Deriades his own daughter’s son, to destroy the Bassarids of womanmad Dionysos and to rout the love-stricken Satyrs of Bromios. But it has provoked me more than all, that battlestirring Ares in mortal shape, with Enyo by his side, without regard for his old love of Aphrodite, has armed himself against Dionysos at Hera’s bidding and supports the Indian king. Now then, on this field Ares is for Deriades — then you fight for Lyaios. He has a spear, you have a stronger bow, before which bend the knee Zeus the Highest and furious Ares and Hermes the lawgiver; even that Archer Apollo fears your bow. If you will give a boon to your Foamborn, fight for the Bassarids and our Dionysos. Go I pray, to the Eastern clime and let no one catch you — go to the Indian plain, where there is a handmaid of Lyaios amongst the Bacchants, more excellent than her yearsmates, named Chalcomede, who loves the maiden state — but if you should see Chalcomede and Cypris both together in Libanos, you cannot tell which was Aphrodite, my dear boy! Go to that place and help Dionysos ranging the wilds, by shooting Morrheus for the beauty of Chalcomedeia. I will give you a worthy prize for your shooting, a wellmade Lemnian chaplet, like the rays of fiery Helios. Shoot a sweet arrow, and you will do a grace both to Cypris and to Dionysos; honour my bridesmaid bird of love and yours, the herald of lifelong wedding and happy hearts!”
So spoke the goddess; and Eros Mildly leapt from his mother’s lap and took up his bow, slung the allvanquishing quiver about his little shoulder, and sailed away on his Mings through the air; round Cerne he turned his flight opposite the rays of morning, smiling that he had set afire that great charioteer of the heavenly car with his little darts, and the light of the loves had conquered the light of Helios. Soon he was moving in the midst of the Indian host, and laid his bow against the neck of Chalcomedeia, aiming the shaft round her rosy cheek, and sent it into the heart of Morrheus. Then paddling his way with the double beat of his floating wings he mounted to the starry barriers of his father, leaving the Indian transfixed with the fiery shaft.
195 αἰεὶ δ᾽ ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα πόθου δεδονημένος ἰῷ,
παρθένος ἧχι βέβηκε, δυσίμερος ἤιε Μορρεύς,
μείλιχον ἆορ ἔχων, πεφιδημένον ἔγχος ἀείρων,
καὶ θρασὺν Ἱμερόεντι νόον μαστίζετο κεστῷ:
ἀμφὶ δέ μιν περίκυκλον ἐρωμανὲς ὄμμα τιταίνων
200 νεύμασι Κυπριδίοισιν ἀθελγέας εἷλκεν ὀπωπάς.
[195] Now Morrheus moved lovesick this way and that way, struck by the arrow of desire, wherever the maiden went; the sword he lifted was tame, his spear hung idle, his bold spirit was lashed by the cestus of love, he turned his enamoured gaze all about and moved his eyes at the bidding of Cypris, uncomforted.
ἡ δὲ δολοφρονέουσα παρήπαφεν ὄρχαμον Ἰνδῶν,
οἷά περ ἱμείρουσα, πόθου δ᾽ ἀπεμάξατο κούρη
ψευδαλέον μίμημα: καὶ αἰθέρος ἥπτετο Μορρεύς,
ἐλπίδι μαψιδίῃ πεφορημένος: ἐν κραδίῃ γὰρ
205 παρθενικὴν ἐδόκησεν ἔχειν βέλος ἶσον Ἐρώτων,
κοῦφος ἀνήρ, ὅτι παῖδα σαόφρονα δίζετο θέλγειν
κυανέοις μελέεσσι, καὶ οὐκ ἐμνήσατο μορφῆς.
καί οἱ ἐπεγγελόωσα δόλῳ φιλοπαίγμονι κούρη
ἀγχιφανὴς ἐρέθιζε δυσίμερον, ἀντιβίῳ δὲ
210 εἶπεν ἀνυμφεύτοιο ποδήνεμα γούνατα νύμφης,
πῶς ποτε Φοῖβον ἔφευγε, Βορηίδι σύνδρομος αὔρῃ,
πῶς διερὸν παρὰ χεῦμα τιταινομένου ποταμοῖο
παρθένιον πόδα πῆξε παρ᾽ εὐρυρέεθρον Ὀρόντην,
ὁππότε γαῖα χανοῦσα παρ᾽ εὐύδρου στόμα λίμνης
215 παῖδα διωκομένην οἰκτίρμονι δέξατο κόλπῳ.
[201] But the girl cunningly deceived the Indian chieftain, as if desiring him, yet it was only a false pretence of love that she modelled; and yet Morrheus touched heaven soaring in vain hope, for he thought she had in her heart a wound of maiden love like his own. Shallow man! he forgot his looks, and sought to charm a girl in her right mind with his black body. The girl had good sport in her playful tricks, showed herself near him and teased the lovesick man. She told her enemy how the knees of that unwedded Nymph fled swift on the breeze, how she ran once from Phoibos quick as the north wind, how she planted her maiden foot by the flood of a longwinding river, by the quick stream of Orontes, when the earth opened beside the wide mouth of a marsh and received the hunted girl into her compassionate bosom.
τοῖον ἔπος φαμένης ἀνεπάλλετο χάρματι Μορρεύς,
ἓν δέ ἑ μοῦνον ὄρινε, διωκομένην ὅτι Δάφνην
καὶ θεὸς οὐκ ἐκίχησε καὶ οὐκ ἐμίηνεν Ἀπόλλων:
καὶ βραδὺν ἔννεπε Φοῖβον: ἀεὶ δ᾽ ὑπεμέμφετο γαίῃ,
220 παρθένον ὅττι κάλυψεν ἀπειρήτην ὑμεναίων:
δείδιε γὰρ τρομέων γλυκερῷ πυρί, μή τι καὶ αὐτὴ
εἴη Χαλκομέδη φιλοπάρθενος, οἷά τε Δάφνη,
μή μιν ἰδὼν φεύγουσαν ἐτώσιον εἰς δρόμον ἔλθῃ,
μοχθίζων ἀτέλεστον ἐς ἵμερον, ὥς περ Ἀπόλλων.
[216] At this tale of hers Morrheus jumped for joy — one thing only annoyed him, that the god never caught Daphne when she was pursued, that Apollo never ravished her. He called Phoibos a sluggard, and always blamed Earth for swallowing the girl before she knew marriage. Trembling with the sweet fire, he feared that Chalcomede also like Daphne might be in love with maidenhood, feared In might see her fleeing and chase her in vain, wasting his pains on desire unattainable like Apollo.
225 ἀλλ᾽ ὅτε νὺξ ἀνέτελλε, κατευνή
τειρα κυδοιμοῦ,
Χακξινέδγ μὲν ἵκανεν ἐρημάδος εἰς ῥάχιν ὕλης,
ἴχνια μαστεύουσα νοοπλανέος Διονύσου:
οὐ τότε ῥόπτρα φέρουσα καὶ Εὔια κύμβαλα Ῥείης
ὄργια μυστιπόλευεν ἀκοιμήτοιο Λυαίου,
230 ἀλλὰ κατηφιόωσα καὶ οὐ ψαύουσα χορείης
εἶχεν ἀσιγήτοισιν ἀήθεα χείλεσι σιγήν,
νοῦσον ἀλεξητῆρος ἐπισταμένη Διονύσου.
[225] But when night came up and sent the battle to rest, Chaleomede traversed lonely wooded heights seeking traces of distracted Dionysos. She bore no tambours then, no Euian cymbals of Rheia, she performed no mystic rite for unsleeping Lyaios; but downcast and touching not the dance, she kept silence with those lips so unused to silence, understanding the malady of Saviour Dionysos.
Ὀκναλέοις δὲ πόδεσσι μόγις βραδὺς ἤιε Μορρεύς,
ἐντροπαλιζομένῳ δεδοκημένος ὄμματι νύμφην,
235 μεμφόμενος Φαέθοντα ταχύδρομον: ἑσπόμενον δὲ
Χαλκομέδῃ νόον εἶχεν ὁμόστολον: ἀσχαλόων δὲ
Κυπριδίοις ὀάροισιν ἀνήρυγε θῆλυν ἰωήν,
αἰθύσσων νυχίων ὑποκάρδιον ἰὸν Ἐρώτων:
[233] With timid steps went Morrheus, slow and hesitating, as he watched the nymph with glances that returned again and again, and blamed Phaethon for all his speed; but his mind was keeping company with Chalcomede. In distress, he softened his voice to womanish love-prattle, as the arrow of nightly love quivered beneath his heart:
‘ἔρρε, βέλος καὶ τόξον Ἀρήιον: ἱμερόεν γὰρ
240 φέρτερον ἄλλο βέλος με βιάζεται: ἔρρε, φαρέτρη:
κεστὸς ἱμὰς νίκησεν ἐμῆς τελαμῶνα βοείης.
οὐκέτι Βασσαρίδεσσι μαχήμονα χεῖρα κορύσσω:
ἀλλὰ θεὸν πατρῷον, ὕδωρ καὶ γαῖαν ἐάσας
βωμὸν ἀναστήσω καὶ Κύπριδι καὶ Διονύσῳ,
245 ῥίψας χάλκεον ἔγχος Ἐνυαλίου καὶ Ἀθήνης.
οὐκέτι πυρσὸν ἔχων θωρήσσομαι: ἀδρανέος γὰρ
δαλὸν Ἐνυαλίοιο κατέσβεσε πυρσὸς Ἐρώτων:
ἄλλῳ θερμοτέρῳ πυρὶ βάλλομαι. αἴθε καὶ αὐτός,
αἴθε γυναιμανέων Σάτυρος πέλον, ὄφρα χορεύσω
250 μεσσόθι Βασσαρίδων, παλάμῃ δ᾽ ἵνα πῆχυν ἐρείσας
σφίγξω δεσμὸν ἔρωτος ἐπ᾽ αὐχένι Χαλκομεδείης.
εἰς Φρυγίην Διόνυσος ὀπάονα Δηριαδῆος
δουλοσύνης ἐρύσειεν ὑπὸ ζυγόν, ἀντὶ δὲ πάτρης
Μαιονίη πολύολβος ἑὸν ναέτην με δεχέσθω:
255 Τμῶλον ἔχειν ἐθέλω μετὰ Καύκασον: ἀρχέγονον δὲ
Ἰνδὸν ἀπορρίψας ἐμὸν οὔνομα Λυδὸς ἀκούσω,
αὐχένα δοῦλον Ἔρωτος ὑοκλίνων Διονύσῳ:
Πακτωλὸς φερέτω με: τί μοι πατρῷος Ὑδάσπης;
Χαλκομέδης δ᾽ ἐχέτω με δόμος γλυκύς: ἐν πολέμοις γὰρ
260 Κύπρις ὁμοῦ καὶ Βάκχος ὑπ᾽ ἀμφοτέροισι βελέμνοις
γαμβροῖς Δηριαδῆος ἐπέχραον, ὄφρά τις εἴπῃ:
[239] “Bow and arrows of Ares, I have done with you; for another shaft and a better constrains me, the arrow of desire! I have done with you, quiver! The cestus-strap has conquered my shieldsling. No more I equip a fighting hand against Bassarids. The gods of my nation, Water and Earth, I will leave, and set up altars both to Cypris and Dionysos; I will throw away the brazen spear of Enyalios and Athena. No more will I arm me with fiery torches, for love’s torch has quenched the torch of Enyalios the weakling: I am hit by another and hotter fire. Would I were a Satyr, one womanmad, that I might dance among Bassarids, that I might rest my hand on Chaleomedeia’s shoulder and encircle her neck with love’s tight bond! May Dionysos drag the minister of Deriades to Phrygia under the yoke of slavery! May wealthy Maionia receive me as her settler instead of my native land! I want to leave Caucasosa and dwell in Tmolos; let me throw off my ancient name of Indian and be called Lydian, let me bow my neck to Dionysos as the slave of love. Let Pactolos carry me — what care I for the Hydaspes of my homeland? Let Chalcomede’s sweet home possess me. Cypris and Bacchos have joined forces and overwhelmed the goodsons of Deriades with their volleys, that men may say—’ The cestus killed Morrheus, the thyrsus Orontes.’”
‘Μορρέα κεστὸς ἔπεφνε, καὶ ἔκτανε θύρσος Ὀρόντην.’’
τοῖα μὲν ὴύτησε: πολυφλοίσβῳ δὲ μερίμηῃ
τήκετο Χαλκομέδης μεμνημένος: ἐν γὰρ ὀμίλῃ
265 θερμότεροι γεγάασιν ἀεὶ σπινθῆρες Ἐρώτων.
ἤδη γὰρ σκιόεντι θορὼν αὐτόχθονι παλμῷ
ἄψοφος ἀννεφέλοιο μελαίνετο κῶνος ὀμίχλης,
καὶ τρομερῇ ξύμπαντα μιῇ ξύνωσε σιωπῇ:
οὐδέ τις ἴχνος ἔπειγε δι᾽ ἄστεος Ἰνδὸς ὁδίτης,
270 οὐδὲ γυνὴ χερνῆτις ἐθήμονος ἥπτετο τέχνης,
οὐδέ οἱ ἐν παλάμῃσι φιληλακάτῳ παρὰ λύχνῳ
κύκλον ἐς αὐτοέλικτον ἰὼν ἄτρακτος ἀλήτης
ἄστατος ὀρχηστῆρι τιταίνετο νήματος ὁλκῷ,
ἀλλὰ καρηβαρέουσα φιλαγρύπνῳ παρὰ λύχνῳ
275 εὗδε γυνὴ ταλαεργός: ὄφις δέ τις ἥσυχος ἕρπων
κεῖτο πεσών, κεφαλῇ δ᾽ ἐρύων παλινάγρετον οὐρὴν
γαστέρος ὑπναλέης ἀνεσείρασεν ὁλκὸν ἀκάνθης:
καί τις ἀερσιπόδης ἐλέφας παρὰ γείτονι τοίχῳ
ὄρθιον ὕπνον ἴαυεν, ὑπὸ δρυὶ νῶτον ἐρείσας.
[262] Such was his outcry. He melted in the resounding flood of care when he thought of Chalcomede: for in the darkness the sparks of the loves are always hotter. For already the cone of cloudless dark, leaping up with its unconscious moving shade, had covered everything together in one trembling quietude. No wayfarer walked through the Indian city; no working-woman touched her familiar craft, nor beside the distaff-loving lamp did the moving spindle go round of itself under her hands, dangled unresting by the dancing pull of the thread. No, the industrious drudge slept with heavy head beside the wakeful lamp. A snake had crawled in quietly and lay where it fell; the head caught the tail, then it tightened up the length of its backbone in sleep on its belly. A towering elephant by the neighbouring wall enjoyed his sleep upright, leaning his back against a tree.
280 καὶ τότε μοῦνος ἄυπνος ἀπόσσυτος ἄψοφος ἕρπων
ποσσὶ παλιννόστοισιν ἕλιξ ἐστρεύγετο Μορρεύς,
μούνην Χειροβίην θαλάμοις εὕδουσαν ἐάσας:
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�αί τινος ἀρχαίοιο σοφοῦ πάρα μῦθον ἀκούσας
ἀνδράσι πὰρ Κιλίκεσσιν ἔχων μόθον ἐγγύθι Ταύρου
285 ἔνθεον ἀστραίων δεδαημένος οἶστρον Ἐρώτων,
ἠέρι πεπταμένην μετανεύμενος αἴθριον αὐλὴν
νυμφίον Εὐρώπης ἐπεδέρκετο, Ταῦρον Ὀλύμπου:
ἀξονίῳ δὲ τένοντι πολυπλανὲς ὄμμα τιταίνων
Καλλιστὼ σκοπίαζε καὶ ἄστατον ὁλκὸν Ἁμαξης,
290 γινώσκων, ὅτι θῆλυς ἐδέξατο θῆλυν ἀκοίην
μιμηλῆς μεθέπηοντα νόθον δέμας ἰοχεαίρης
ἀγνώστοις μελέεσοιν: ὑπερτέλλοντα δὲ Ταύρου
Μυρτίλον ἐσκοπίαζε, πυρίπνοον Ἡνιοχῆα,
ὅττι γάμῳ χραίσμησε, καὶ εἰς δρόμον Ἱπποδαμείης
295 ἀντίτυπον ποίησε τύπον τροχοεσδέι κηρῷ,
ἄχρι Πέλοψ γάμον εὗρε: καὶ ἀγχόθι Κασσιεπείης
αἰετὸν Αἰγίνης τανυσίπτερον εἶδεν ἀκοίτην,
καὶ δόλον ἤθελε τοῖον ἐπίκλοπον, ὄφρα καὶ αὐτὸς
Χαλκομέδης λύσειεν ἀνυμφεύτοιο κορείην,
300 καί τινα μῦθον ἔειπεν ἔχων ἄγρυπνον ὀπωπήν:
[280] Then alone, sleepless, noiseless, Morrheus hurriedly left Cheirobië sleeping alone in her chamber, and crept round and round in distress with ever-returning feet. Once when at war near the Tauros among the Cilicians, he had heard the lore of an old sage, and learnt of the sting of starry loves in the heavens. Surveying therefore the heavenly domain spread abroad in the skies, he noticed Europa’s bridegroom, the Olympian Bull; then he turned his wandering eye to the polar region, and observed Callisto and the restless course of the Waggon, and recognized that the female received a female bedfellow, who was disguised under the false likeness of the Archeress with limbs unrecognizable. Rising over the Bull he saw Myrtilos, the fire-breathing Charioteer, because he once helped a marriage, at the race for Hippodameia, and made a counterfeit peg of rounded wax, so that Pelops got his marriage. Near Cassiepeia he saw that Eagle spreading his wings who bedded with Aigina, and wished for such another delusive device, that he might himself undo the maidenhead of unwedded Chalcomede. Then with unsleeping gaze he began to speak:
