by Nonnus
εἰσί τριηκοσίων Χαρίτων στίχες, ὧν μία μούνη
40 πασάων προφέρουσα φαείνεται, οἷα καὶ αὐτὴ
φαιδροτέραις ἀκτῖσι κατακρύπτει σέλας ἄστρων
μαρμαρυγὴν εὔκυκλον ἀκοντίζουσα Σελήνη.
καὶ διδύμοις βελέεσσι κορύσσεται εἰν ἑνὶ θεσμῷ,
κάλλεϊ τοξεύουσα καὶ αἰχμάζουσα σιδήρῳ:
45 ἔστι δὲ Πασιθέη κορυθαιόλος, ἥν τινα Βάκχαι
Χαλκομέδην καλέουσιν: ἐγὼ δέ μιν αὐτὸς ἐνίψω
Ἄρτεμιν ἀργυρόπεζαν ἠὲ χρύσασπιν Ἀθήνην.’
[27] “Why have you left your bed and your sleeping bride to wander about in the dark, fearless Morrheus? Has Deriades affrighted you with a threat? Is Cheirobie angry with you in a jealous temper, and thinks you in love with some captive Bacchant? For when women see their partners wild with love, they are always jealous of some secret intrigue. Perhaps that allvanquishing braggart Desire has been aiming at you bridal sparks from his unresting quiver! Do you want one of the Bassarids, perhaps? As I hear, there are three Graces, the dancers of Orchomenos, handmaids of Phoibos — but Lyaios the danceweaver has whole rows of Graces three hundred strong, one of whom shines pre-eminent above all, as Selene herself quenches the light of the stars with her brighter beams when she scatters her shimmering around. And she arms herself with two shots on one count — the arrow of her beauty and the steel of her spear. She is a helmeted Pasithea, whom the Bacchants name Chaleomede: — but I will call her Silverfoot Artemis or Goldenshield Athena.”
ὥς φάμενος σίγησε: καὶ ὀφρύος ἄκρα καθέλκων
αἰδομένοις στομάτεσσι δυσίμερος ἔννεπε Μορρεύς:
[48] When he had said this, he fell silent; and lovesick Morrheus drawing his brows together answered with shamefast lips:
50 ‘ἀτρεκέως Διόνυσος ἐδύσατο κῦμα θαλάσσης
δειμαίνων Λυκόοργον, ὑποβρυχίοιο δὲ κόλπου
Νηρεΐδας θώρηξε, καὶ ἐξ ἁλὸς ἦλθε κομίζων
εἰναλίην ἐς Ἄρηα κασιγνήτην Ἀφροδίτην:
ἀντὶ δὲ νυμφιδίοιο καὶ εὐόδμοιο χιτῶνος
55 δῶκεν ἔχειν θώρηκα σιδήρεον, ἀντὶ κεστοῦ
χάλκεον ἔγχος ὄπασσε: καὶ οὔνομα τὸ πρὶν ἀμείψας
Χαλκομέδην ὀνόμηνε κορυσσομένην Ἀφροδίτην:
ἔστι δὲ Βασσαρίδεσσι συνέμπορος: ἀμφοτέροις δὲ
μάρναμαι ἀγνώσσων, καὶ Κύπριδι καὶ Διονύσῳ.
60 καὶ τί μάτην δόρυ θοῦρον ἀείρομαι; εἶξον, ἀκωκή:
εἰ Παφίη νίκησεν ἀκοντιστῆρα κεραυνοῦ,
εἰ πολέμων σκηπτοῦχον ἑῷ σπινθῆρι δαμάζει,
εἰ φλογερὸν Φαέθοντα κατέφλεγε μείζονι πυρσῷ
καὶ κλονέει πυρόεντα,τί κεν ῥέξαιμι σιδήρῳ;
65 εἴπατέ μοί τινα μῆτιν ἀρηγόνα Κυπρογενείης:
οὐτήσω τὸν Ἔρωτα; πόθεν πτερόεντα κιχήσω;
ἔγχος ἀερτάζω; πυρὶ μάρναται, ἆορ ἐρύσσω;
τόξον ἔχει, τὸ δὲ τόξον ἐμῆς φρενὸς ἁπτόμενον πῦρ.
[50] “Certainly Dionysos dived into the waves of the sea for fear of Lycurgos, and armed the Nereids in the bosom of the deep, and out of the brine he brought against Ares his own sister, Aphrodite of the brine: instead of the fragrant dress for a bridegift he gave her a steel corselet to wear, instead of the cestus he gave her a spear of bronze; he changed her name, and Aphrodite armed became Chalcomede. She is in the company of the Bassarids, and I have two to fight, without knowing it — both Cypris and Dionysos. Why do I vainly lift my valiant spear? Yield, my point! If the Paphian has conquered the master of the thunderbolt, if she vanquishes the king of battles with her spark, if she has burnt up flaming Phaethon with a fire greater than his own and harasses the fiery one, what could I do with steel? Tell me some device to help against Cyprogeneia. Shall I wound Eros? but how shall I catch that winged one? Shall I lift a spear? Fire is his weapon. Shall I draw the sword? He has an arrow, and his arrow is fire kindling my heart.
πολλάκις οὐτήθην κατὰ φύλοπιν: ἀλλὰ καμόντα
70 ἰητήρ με σάωσεν ἑῇ ζωαρκέι τέχνῃ,
ὠτειλῇ μελέων ὀδυνήφατον ἄνθος ἑλίξας.
Ὕσσακε, μὴ κρύψῃς, τίνα φάρμακα ποικίλα πάσσων
ἔνδον ἐμῆς κραδίης ἰήσομαι ἕλκος Ἐρώτων.
εἰμὶ μὲν ἀντιβίοισιν ἀεὶ θρασύς: ἀλλ᾽ ὅτε λεύσσω
75 Χαλκομέδην παρεοῦσαν, ἐμὴ θηλύνεται αἰχμή.
οὐ τρομέω Διόνυσον: ὑποπτήσσω δὲ γυναῖκα,
ὅττι σέλας πέμπουσα ποθοβλήτοιο προσώπου
μορφῇ ὀιστεύει με, καὶ οὐκέτι τόξα τιταίνω.
ὣς ἄρα Νηρεΐδων μίαν ἔδρακον: εἰ θέμις εἰπεῖν,
80 ἢ Θέτις ἢ Γαλάτεια συναιχμάζει Διονύσῳ.’
[69] “Often I have been wounded in the field; but wounded, some physician has made me whole by his lifesaving art, by laying an allheal flower on the wound of my body. Hyssacos, hide it not, tell me what varied store of balsams can I apply in my heart to cure the wound of love! To my adversaries I am always bold; but when I see Chalcomede before me, my sharp point grows womanish. I fear not Dionysos, but I shrink before a woman, for she shoots bright shafts from her lovesmit countenance and pierces me with her beauty. I cannot aim my bow then. So I have seen one of the Nereids. If I dare say it, either Thetis or Galateia is fighting beside Dionysos!”
εἶπε, καὶ ἀκροτάτοισι μόγις βραδὺς ἴχνεσι βαίνων,
μὴ νυχίην εὕδουσαν ἑὴν παράκοιτιν ἐγείρῃ,
εἰς θάλαμον πάλιν ἦλθε: μελαγκόλποιο δὲ νύμφης
τηλόχεν ἔτραπεν ὄμμα, καὶ ἤθελεν, ὄφρα φανεῖσα
85 Χαλκομέδη λάμψειε καὶ ἠριγένεια φανείη.
ἀσχαλόων δ᾽ ὑπ᾽ Ἔρωτι κατηφέι κάππεσεν εὐνῇ:
καὶ θεράπων ἄγρυπνος ἔχων πόθον ἡδέος ὕπνου
Ὕσσακος αὖτις ἔδαρθεν ἑῆς ἐφύπερθε βοείης.
[81] He spoke; and moving on the tips of his toes, slowly and carefully, so as not to awaken his sleeping wife in the night, he entered his chamber again. Far from the black bosom of his bride he turned his eves away, and wished that Chalcomede might stand shining before him and dawn appear. Chafing with love he fell on his sad couch; and his watchful guardian Hyssacos, longing for quiet rest, fell asleep once more on his oxhide shield.
Μορρέα δ᾽ ὑπνώοντα παρήπαφεν ὄψις ὀνείρου,
90 κλεψινόων ἐλέφαντος ἀναΐξασα πυλάων,
καί τινα μῦθον ἔειπεν ἐπήρατον ἠπεροπῆα:
[89] While Morrheus slumbered, the vision of a dream came flyin
g from the deluding gates of ivory to cajole him, and uttered a comforting but deceitful speech:
‘δέχνυσο Χαλκομέδην πειθήμονα, νυμφίε Μορρεῦ:
δέξο καὶ ἐν λεχέεσσι μετὰ πτολέμους σέο νύμφην:
ἠματίην ὁρόων με τεὴν ηὔφρηνας ὀπωπήν,
95 καὶ νυχίῃ παρίαυε φιλήνορι Χαλκομεδείῃ.
ἔστι καὶ ὑπναλέοιο γάμου χάρις, ἔστι καὶ αὐτῶν
ἱμερόεις γλυκὺς οἶστρος ὀνειρείων ὑμεναίων.
ἤθελον ἀγκὰς ἔχειν σε, καὶ ἐγγύθι φαίνεται Ἠώς.’
[92] “Bridegroom Morrheus, welcome Chalcomede a willing bride! Welcome your bride in your own bed after your battles! In the day when you saw me you delighted your eyes — in the night, sleep by the side of your loving Chalcomedeia! Even in sleep marriage has its charm, even in dreams it has a passion of sweet desire. I would fain hold you in my arms, and dawn is near.”
ὣς φαμένη πεπότητο: καὶ ἐξ ὕπνου θόρε Μορρεύς,
100 ἀρχομένης δ᾽ ἐνόησεν ἀμερσιγάμου φάος Ἠοῦς:
Χαλκομέδην δ᾽ ἐδόκησεν ἔχειν πόθον: αἶψα δὲ σιγῇ
ἔννεπε Κυπριδίην ἀπατήλιον ἐλπίδα βόσκων:
[99] With these words, the vision flew away; Morrheus leapt out of his sleep and saw the beginning of Dawn, the thief of love. He thought Chalcomede desired him, and at once said silently to himself, feeding his delusive hope of love:
‘τριπλόον, ἠριγένεια, φέρεις φάος, ὅττι κομίζεις
Χαλκομέδην, καὶ φέγγος ἄγεις καὶ νύκτα διώκεις.
105 Μορρέος ἀγρύπνοιο παρήγορε, καὶ σὺ φανείης,
Χαλκομέδη, ῥοδόεσσα ῥοδοστεφέος πλέον Ἠοῦς:
οὔ ποτε τοῖον ἄγουσι ῥόδον λειμωνίδες Ὧραι.
παρθενικὴ χαρίεσσα, τεαὶ μεθέπουσι παρειαὶ
εἰαρινὸν λειμῶνα, τὸν οὐ χρόνος οἶδε μαραίνειν:
110 ἄνθεα σοὶ θαλέουσιν, ὅτε φθινοπωρίδες Ὧραι:
σὰ κρίνα καὶ κατὰ χεῖμα φαείνεται: ἀμφιέπει δὲ
σὸν δέμας οὐ λήγουσαν ἐρευθομένην ἀνεμώνην,
ἣν Χάριτες κομέουσι καὶ οὐκ ὀλέκουσιν ἀῆται.
οὔνομα σὸν κόσμησας ἀριστεύουσα σιδήρῳ:
115 ἄρμενον ἠνορέῃ τεὸν οὔνομα: Χαλκομέδην δὲ
οὔ σε μάτην καλέουσι: σὲ γὰρ τέκε χάλκεος Ἄρης
Κύπριδος ὲν λεχέεσσιν Ἐρωτοτόκοιο χορεύων.
Χαλκομέδην μὲν ἅπαντες, ἐγὼ δέ σε μοῦνος ἐνίψω
Χρυσομέδην, ὅτι κάλλος ἔχεις χρυσῆς Ἀφροδίτης:
120 πείθομαι, ὡς Σπάρτηθεν ἔχεις γένος: ὡς δοκέω γάρ,
Χαλκομέδην ἐλόχευσε σιδηροχίτων Ἀφροδίτη.’
[103] “Threefold light you bring, O daughter of the mist! You bring Chalcomede, and you bring the daylight, and you drive night away! O Chalcomede, do you appear to me also, and comfort wakeful Morrheus, you, rosier yourself than rose-crowned Dawn: no such roses are brought by the Seasons to our meadows. Charming maiden, your cheeks present a meadow of the Springtime which time knows not how to wither. Your flowers are in bloom when the fruit wasting Autumn Seasons are here: your lilies can be seen even in winter; your body is all one blushing anemone never-fading, which the Graces tend and the winds never destroy. Your name you have adorned by the triumphs of your spear; your name fits your valour — not in vain are you called Chaleomede, for brazen Ares begat you, tumbling on the bed of love-begetting Cypris. All the world calls you Chalcomede, but I alone call you Chrysomede, because you have the beauty of golden Aphrodite; I believe you come from Sparta, for as I think, Aphrodite Steelcorseleta was the mother of Chalcomede.”
τοῖον ἔπος κατέλεξε φιλαγρύπνων ἐπὶ λέκτρων.
ἀλλ᾽ ὅτε φοινίσσοντι σέλας πέμπουσα προσώπῳ
ὑσμίνης προκέλευθος ἑκηβόλος ἄνθορεν Ἠώς,
125 Ἰνδῴην ἐκόρυσσε γονὴν λαοσσόος Ἄρης:
καὶ τότε θωρηχθέντες ἐυτροχάλων ἀπὸ λέκτρων
ἅρματι Δηριάδαο συνήλυδες ἔρρεον Ἰνδοί.
[122] So he spoke on his wakeful bed but when farshooting Dawn with crimson face leapt up sending forth her light as the forerunner of battle, Ares musterhost armed the Indian nation; then the Indians fully equipped ran from their wellwheeled beds to gather round the chariot of Deriades.
βάκχοι δ᾽ οὐ παρεόντος ἀνικήτου Διονύσου
εἰς πεδίον προχέοντο κατηφέες: ἐν κραδίῃ δὲ
130 οὐκέτι θαρσήεντες ἐπεστρατόωντο κυδοιμῷ,
ἀλλὰ φόβῳ δονέοντο: καὶ οὐ ῥηξήνορι λύσσῃ
εἰσέτι χαλκοχίτωνες ἐβακχεύοντο γυναῖκες:
οὐδὲ βαρυφθόγγοιο μεμυκότος ἀνθερεῶνος
ἀφρὸν ἀνηκόντιζον, ἐν ἀφλοίσβῳ δὲ σιωπῇ
135 μίμνεν ἀδεψήτοιο περίκροτα νῶτα βοείης:
οὐ δαΐδες σελάγιζον Ἐνυαλίης φλόγα πεύκης,
καπνὸν ἐρευγομένης θανατηφόρον: ἀλλ᾽ ὑπὸ κέντρῳ
δαιμονίης μάστιγος ἐθηλύνοντο μαχηταί.
οὐ Σάτυροι κελάδησαν, ἐθήμονος οὐ θρόος αὐλοῦ
140 ἔβρεμεν ἐγρεκύδοιμος: ἀβακχεύτῳ δὲ κυδοιμῷ
Σειληνοὶ πολέμιζον ἐχέφρονες, οὐδὲ προσώπῳ
μίλτον ἐπιχρίσαντες ὁμόχροον αἴθοπι λύθρῳ
ξανθὸν ἐφοινίξαντο τύπον ψευδήμονι μορφῇ
εἰς φόβον, οὐδὲ μέτωπα πεφυρμένα λευκάδι γύψῳ,
145 ὡς πάρος, ἐρραίνοντο: καὶ οὐ στομάτεσσι πιόντες
θερμὸν ἐρημονόμοιο νεόσσυτον αἷμα λεαίνης
Πᾶνες ἀελλήεντες ἐβακχεύοντο κυδοιμῷ,
ἀλλὰ φόβῳ γεγάασιν ἐνγέες: ὀκναλέοι δὲ
φειδομέναις ἤρασσον ἀδουπήτοις χθόνα χηλαῖς,
150 φρικτὸν ἀναστείλαντες ὀρίδρομον ἅλμα χορείης.
[128] But the Bacchoi, with invincible Dionysos still amissing, poured forth downcast on the plain. No longer in confident heart they marched to the fight, but they were stricken with fear. No longer with manbreaking madness the women in bronze corselets rushed frantic to the field, no more they scattered foam from their bellowing throats with deep growlings; but in silence undisturbed the untanned calfskins lay unbeaten. Their torches sent forth no shining flame of martial brands nor belched the death-bringing smoke; but under the goad of the divine lash the warriors turned to women. The Satyrs made no noise, no sound echoed as of yore from the pipes to awaken the conflict. Th
e Seilenoi went to battle in sober silence with their wits about them; they had not painted their faces with crimson like fresh blood, nor purpled their yellow skin to deceive and affright, nor daubed their foreheads with white chalk as usual. The Pans had drunk no hot blood fresh from the veins of a lioness of the wilds, and rushed not swift as the wind frenzied into the conflict, but they were mild with fear: hesitating they pawed the ground with gentle noiseless hooves, and ceased the terrible leaps of their highland dance.
Δηριάδης δ᾽ ὑπέροπλος ἐπέχραεν ἄρσενι χάρμῃ,
σείων ὡς τρυφάλειαν ἑῆς γλωχῖνα κεραίης:
θηλυτέρῃ δὲ φάλαγγι θορὼν βακχεύετο Μορρεύς:
οὐ γὰρ Χαλκομέδεια συνέμπορος ἵστατο Βάκχαις,
155 ὄφρά μιν αἰδέσσαιτο, κατεσσυμένην δὲ γυναικῶν
αἵματι πορφύρουσαν ἀναστείλειεν ἀκωκήν,
ἀλλὰ τότε προμάχοισιν ὁμήλυδος ἥπτετο χάρμης
παρθένος ἱμερόεσσα νέη κλυτότοξος Ἀμαζών,
φάρεα λεπτὰ φέρουσα καὶ ἀστράπτοντα χιτῶνα
160 ἐν πεδίῳ: τὸ γὰρ εἶπε σοφὴ Θέτις, ὄφρα σαώσῃ
λαὸν ὅλον μογέοντα τινασσομένου Διονύσου.
[151] But Deriades proudly grappled with the men’s battle, shaking his pointed horn like a helmet plume; Morrheus leapt raging against the company of women. For Chalcomedeia did not stand beside the Bacchant women to make him pitiful, and check the blade which darted against the women purpled with blood; but now the lovely young girl, a new bow-famed Amazon, took hand in the fight beside the front ranks in the plain, clad in light robes and a shining tunic. For that is what wise Thetis told her to do, that she might save the whole host, so distressed while Dionysos was being plagued.
ἔνθα διατμήξας Χαρίτων ἴνδαλμα προσώπου
