by Theocritus
Fear not, ewes, your fill to eat; for when the new blade sprouteth sweet,
Then ye shall no losers be; to’t, and fed you every she,
Feed till every udder teem store for lambs and store for cream.
σίττα νέμεσθε νέμεσθε, τὰ δ᾽ οὔθατα πλήσατε πᾶσαι,
[71] Then Daphnis, for his envoy, lifted up his tuneful voice, singing –
DAPHNIS
ὡς τὸ μὲν ὥρνες ἔχωντι, τὸ δ᾽ ἐς ταλάρως ἀποθῶμαι.
δεύτερος αὖ Δάφνις λιγυρῶς ἀνεβάλλετ᾽ ἀείδειν:
κἠμὲ γὰρ ἐκ τὤντρω σύνοφρυς κόρα ἐχθὲς ἰδοῖσα
τὰς δαμάλας παρελᾶντα καλὸν καλὸν ἦμεν ἔφασκεν:
οὐ μὰν οὐδὲ λόγον ἐκρίθην ἄπο, τὤμπικρον αὐτᾷ,
ἀλλὰ κάτω βλέψας τὰν ἁμετέραν ὁδὸν εἷρπον. 75
ἁδεῖ᾽ ἁ φωνὰ τᾶς πόρτιος, ἁδὺ τὸ πνεῦμα:
ἁδὺ δὲ χὡ μόσχος γαρύεται, ἁδὺ δὲ χἁ βῶς:
ἁδὺ δὲ τῶ θέρεος παρ᾽ ὕδωρ ῥέον αἰθριοκοιτεῖν.
τᾷ δρυῒ ταὶ βάλανοι κόσμος, τᾷ μαλίδι μᾶλα,
τᾷ βοῒ δ᾽ ἁ μόσχος, τῷ βουκόλῳ αἱ βόες αὐταί. 80
[72] Yestermorn a long-browed maid, spying from a rocky shade
Neat and neatherd passing by, cries “What a pretty boy am I!”
Did pretty boy the jape repay: Nay, bent his head and went his way.
Sweet to hear and sweet to smell, god wot I love a heifer well,
And sweet alsó ‘neath summer sky to sit where brooks go babbling by;
But ’tis berry and bush, ’tis fruit and tree, ’tis calf and cow, wi’ my kine and me.
῝Ως οἱ παῖδες ἄεισαν, ὁ δ᾽ αἰπόλος ὧδ᾽ ἀγόρευεν:
ἁδύ τι τὸ στόμα τευ καὶ ἐφίμερος ὦ Δάφνι φωνά.
κρέσσον μελπομένω τευ ἀκουέμεν ἢ μέλι λείχειν.
λάζεο τὰς σύριγγας: ἐνίκασας γὰρ ἀείδων.
αἰ δέ τι λῇς με καὶ αὐτὸν ἅμ᾽ αἰπολέοντα διδάξαι, 85
τήναν τὰν μιτύλαν δωσῶ τὰ δίδακτρά τοι αἶγα,
ἅτις ὑπὲρ κεφαλᾶς αἰεὶ τὸν ἀμολγέα πληροῖ.
[81] So sang those two lads, and this is what the goatherd said of their songs: “You, good Daphnis, have a sweet and delightful voice. Your singing is to the ear as honey to the lip. Here’s the pipe; take it; your song has fairly won it you. And if you are willing to teach me how to sing while I share pasture with you, you shall have the little she-goat yonder to your school-money, and I warrant you she’ll fill your pail up the brim and further.”
῾Ως μὲν ὁ παῖς ἐχάρη καὶ ἀνάλατο καὶ πλατάγησε
νικάσας, οὑτῶς ἐπὶ ματέρι νεβρὸς ἅλοιτο.
ὡς δὲ κατεσμύχθη καὶ ἀνετράπετο φρένα λύπᾳ 90
ὥτερος, οὕτω καὶ νύμφα γαμεθεῖσ᾽ ἀκάχοιτο.
[88] At that the lad was transported, and capered and clapped hands for joy of his victory; so capers a fawn at the sight of his dam. At that, too, the other’s fire was utterly extinct, and his heart turned upside-down for grief; so mourns a maiden that is forced against her will.
κἠκ τούτω πρᾶτος παρὰ ποιμέσι Δάφνις ἔγεντο,
καὶ Νύμφαν ἄκρηβος ἐὼν ἔτι Ναΐδα γᾶμεν.
[92] From that day forth Daphnis had the pre-eminence of the shepherds, insomuch that he was scarce come to man’s estate ere he had to wife that Naïs of whom he sang.
IDYLL IX. Βουκολιασταὶ Δάφνις καὶ Μενάλκας
IDYLL IX. THE THIRD COUNTRY SINGING-MATCH
This poem would seem to be merely a poor imitation of the last. The characters are two neatherds, Daphnis and Menalcas, and the writer himself. We are to imagine the cattle to have just been driven out to pasture. There is no challenge and no stake. At the request of the writer that they shall compete in song before him, each of the herdsmen sings seven lines, Daphnis setting the theme; and then the writer, leaving it to be implied that he judged them equal, tells us how he gave them each a gift and what it was. The writer now appeals to the Muses to tell him the song he himself sang on the occasion, and he sings a six-line song in their praise.
Βουκολιάζεο Δάφνι, τὺ δ᾽ ᾠδᾶς ἄρχεο πρᾶτος,
ᾠδᾶς ἄρχεο Δάφνι, συναψάσθω δὲ Μενάλκας,
μόσχως βουσὶν ὑφέντες, ὑπὸ στείραισι δὲ ταύρως.
χοἱ μὲν ἁμᾷ βόσκοιντο καὶ ἐν φύλλοισι πλανῷντο
μηδὲν ἀτιμαγελεῦντες: ἐμὶν δὲ τὺ βουκολιάζευ 5
ἐκτόθεν, ἄλλωθεν δὲ ποτικρίνοιτο Μενάλκας.
[1] Sing a country-song, Daphnis. Be you the first and Menalcas follow when you have let out the calves to run with the cows and the bulls with the barren heifers. As for the cattle, may they feed together and wander together among the leaves and never stray alone, but do you come and sing me your song on this side, and Menalcas stand for judgment against you on that.
DAPHNIS (sings)
Δάφνις
῾Αδὺ μὲν ἁ μόσχος γαρύεται, ἁδὺ δὲ χἁ βοῦς,
ἁδὺ δὲ χἁ σῦριγξ χὡ βουκόλος, ἁδὺ δὲ κἠγών.
ἔστι δέ μοι παρ᾽ ὕδωρ ψυχρὸν στιβάς, ἐν δὲ νένασται
λευκᾶν ἐκ δαμαλᾶν καλὰ δέρματα, τάς μοι ἁπάσας 10
λὶψ κόμαρον τρωγοίσας ἀπὸ σκοπιᾶς ἐτίναξε.
τῶ δὲ θέρευς φρύγοντος ἐγὼ τόσσον μελεδαίνω,
ὅσσον ἐρῶντε πατρὸς μύθων καὶ ματρὸς ἀκούειν.
[7] O sweet the cry o’ the calf, and sweet the cry o’ the cow,
And sweet he tune o’ the neatherd’s pipe, and I sing sweet enow;
And a greenbed’s mine by the cool brook-side piled thick and thick with many a hide
From the pretty heifers wi’ skin so white which the storm found browsing on the height
And hurled them all below:
And as much reck I o’ the scorching heat as a love-struck lad of his father’s threat.
οὑτῶς Δάφνις ἄεισεν ἐμίν, οὑτῶς δὲ Μενάλκας.
[14] So sang me Daphnis, and then Menalcas thus:-
MENALCAS
Μενάλκας
Αἴτνα μᾶτερ ἐμά, κἠγὼ καλὸν ἄντρον ἐνοικέω 15
κοίλαις ἐν πέτραισιν: ἔχω δέ τοι ὅσσ᾽ ἐν ὀνείρῳ
φαίνονται, πολλὰς μὲν ὄις, πολλὰς δὲ χιμαίρας,
ὧν μοι πρὸς κεφαλᾷ καὶ πρὸς ποσὶ κώεα κεῖται.
ἐν πυρὶ δὲ δρυίνῳ χόρια ζεῖ, ἐν πυρὶ δ᾽ αὖαι
φαγοὶ χειμαίνοντος: ἔχω δέ τοι οὐδ᾽ ὅσον ὤραν 20
χείματος ἢ νωδὸς καρύων ἀμύλοιο παρόντος.
[15] Etna, mother o’ mine! my shelter it is a grot,
A pretty rift in a hollow clift, and for skins to my bed, god wot,
Head and foot ’tis goats an
d sheep as many as be in a vision o’ sleep,
And an oaken fire i’ the winter days with chestnuts roasting at the blaze
And puddings in the pot:
And as little care I for the wintry sky as the toothless for nuts when porridge is by.
τοῖς μὲν ἐπεπλατάγησα καὶ αὐτίκα δῶρον ἔδωκα,
Δάφνιδι μὲν κορύναν, τάν μοι πατρὸς ἔτρεφεν ἀγρός,
αὐτοφυῆ, τὰν οὐδ᾽ ἂν ἴσως μωμάσατο τέκτων,
τήνῳ δὲ στρόμβω καλὸν ὄστρακον, ὧ κρέας αὐτὸς 25
σιτήθην πέτραισιν ἐν ᾿Ικαρίαισι δοκεύσας,
πέντε ταμὼν πέντ᾽ οὖσιν: ὁ δ᾽ ἐγκαναχήσατο κόχλῳ.
[22] Then clapped I the lads both, and then and there gave them each a gift, Daphnis a club which grew upon my father’s farm and e’en the same as it grew – albeit an artificer could not make one to match it – , and Menalcas a passing fine conch, of which the fish when I took it among the Icarian rocks furnished five portions for five mouths, – and he blew a blast upon the shell.
Βουκολικαὶ Μοῖσαι μάλα χαίρετε, φαίνετε δ᾽ ᾠδάς,
τάς ποκ᾽ ἐγὼ τήνοισι παρὼν ἄεισα νομεῦσι,
μηκέτ᾽ ἐπὶ γλώσσας ἄκρας ὀλοφυγγόνα φύσω. 30
[28] All hail, good Muses o’ the countryside! and the song I did sing that day before those herdsmen, let it no longer raise pushes on the tip o’ my tongue, but show it me you:
τέττιξ μὲν τέττιγι φίλος, μύρμακι δὲ μύρμαξ,
ἴρηκες δ᾽ ἴρηξιν, ἐμὶν δέ τε μοῖσα καὶ ᾠδά.
τᾶς μοι πᾶς εἴη πλεῖος δόμος. οὔτε γὰρ ὕπνος
οὔτ᾽ ἔαρ ἐξαπίνας γλυκερώτερον, οὔτε μελίσσαις
ἄνθεα: τόσσον ἐμὶν Μοῖσαι φίλαι. οὓς μὲν ὁρεῦντι 35
γαθεῦσαι, τοὺς δ᾽ οὔτι ποτῷ δαλήσατο Κίρκη.
[31] (the song) O cricket is to cricket dear, and ant for ant doth long,
The hawk’s the darling of his fere, and o’ me the Muse and her song:
Of songs be my house the home away, for neither sleep, nor a sudden spring-day,
Nor flowers to the bees, are as sweet as they; I love the Muse and her song:
For any the Muses be glad to see, is proof agen Circè’s witcheyre.
IDYLL X. ἐργατίναι ἢ Θερισταί
IDYLL X. THE REAPERS
The characters of this pastoral mime are two reapers, Milon, the man of experience, and Bucaeus, called also Buscus, the lovesick youth. The conversation takes place in the course of their reaping, and leads to a love-song from the lover and a reaping-song from his kindly mentor. When Milon calls his song the song of the divine Lityerses he is using a generic term. There was at least one traditional reaping-song which told how Lityerses, son of Midas, of Celaenae in Phrygia, after entertaining strangers hospitably, made them reap with him till evening, when he cut off their heads and hid their bodies in the sheaves. This apparently gave the name to all reaping-songs. Milon’s song, after a prayer to Demeter, addresses itself in succession to binders, threshers, and reapers, and lastly to the steward. Both songs are supposed to be impromptu, and sung as the men reap on.
MILON
Μίλων
᾿Εργατίνα βουκαῖε, τί νῦν ᾦζυρὲ πεπόνθεις;
οὔθ᾽ ἑὸν ὄγμον ἄγειν ὀρθὸν δύνᾳ, ὡς τὸ πρὶν ἆγες,
οὔθ᾽ ἅμα λᾳοτομεῖς τῷ πλατίον, ἀλλ᾽ ἀπολείπῃ
ὥσπερ ὄις ποίμνας, ἇς τὸν πόδα κάκτος ἔτυψε.
ποῖός τις δείλαν τυ καὶ ἐκ μέσω ἄματος ἐσσῇ, 5
ὃς νῦν ἀρχόμενος τᾶς αὔλακος οὐκ ἀποτρώγεις;
[1] Husbandman Bucaeus, what ails ye now, good drudge? you neither can cut your swath straight as once you did, nor keep time in your reaping with your neighbour. You’re left behind by the flock like a ewe with a thorn in her foot. How will it be wi’ you when noon is past and day o’ the wane, if thus early you make not a clean bite o’ your furrow?
BUCAEUS
Βάττος
Μίλων ὀψαμάτα, πέτρας ἀπόκομμ᾽ ἀτεράμνω,
οὐδαμά τοι συνέβα ποθέσαι τινὰ τῶν ἀπεόντων;
Μίλων
[7] Good master early-and-late-wi’-sickle, good Sire chip-o’-the-flint, good Milon, hath it never befallen thee to wish for one that is away?
MILON
οὐδαμά. τίς δὲ πόθος τῶν ἔκτοθεν ἐργάτᾳ ἀνδρί;
Βάττος
οὐδαμά νυν συνέβα τοι ἀγρυπνῆσαι δι᾽ ἔρωτα; 10
Μίλων
μηδέ γε συμβαίη: χαλεπὸν χορίω κύνα γεῦσαι.
Βάττος
ἀλλ᾽ ἐγὼ ὦ Μίλων ἔραμαι σχεδὸν ἑνδεκαταῖος.
Μίλων
ἐκ πίθω ἀντλεῖς δῆλον: ἐγὼ δ᾽ ἔχω οὐδ᾽ ἅλις ὄξος.
Βάττος
τοιγάρτοι πρὸ θυρᾶν μοι ἀπὸ σπόρω ἄσκαλα πάντα.
Μίλων
τίς δέ τυ τᾶν παίδων λυμαίνεται; 15
Βάττος
ἁ Πολυβώτα,
ἃ πρᾶν ἀμάντεσσι παρ᾽ ῾Ιπποκίωνι ποταύλει.
Μίλων
εὗρε θεὸς τὸν ἀλιτρόν: ἔχεις πάλαι ὧν ἐπεθύμεις.
μάντίς τοι τὰν νύκτα χροϊξεῖθ᾽ ἁ καλαμαία.
Βάττος
μωμᾶσθαί μ᾽ ἄρχῃ τύ: τυφλὸς δ᾽ οὐκ αὐτὸς ὁ Πλοῦτος,
ἀλλὰ καὶ ὡφρόντιστος ῎Ερως. μὴ δὴ μέγα μυθεῦ. 20
Μίλων
οὐ μέγα μυθεῦμαι: τὺ μόνον κατάβαλλε τὸ λᾷον,
καί τι κόρας φιλικὸν μέλος ἀμβάλευ. ἅδιον οὑτῶς
ἐργαξῇ: καὶ μὰν πρότερόν ποκα μουσικὸς ἦσθα.
[9] Never, i’ faith; what has a clown like me to do with wishing where there’s no getting?
BUCAEUS
Then hath it never befallen thee to lie awake o’ nights for love?
MILON
Nay, and god forbid it should. ’Tis ill letting the dog taste pudding.
BUCAEUS
But I’ve been in love, Milon, the better part of ten days; –
MILON
Then ’tis manifest thou draw’st thy wine from the hogshead the while I am short of vinegar-water.
BUCAEUS
– And so it is that the land at my very door since was seed-time hath not felt hoe.
MILON
And which o’ the lasses is they undoing?
BUCAEUS
’Tis Polybotas’ daughter, she that was at Hippocion’s t’other day a-piping to the reapers.
MILON
Lord! thy sin hath found thee out. Thou’dst wished and wished, and now, ‘faith, thou’st won. There’ll be a locust to clasp thee all night long.
BUCAEUS
Thou bid’st fair to play me fault-finder. But there’s blind men in heaven besides Him o’ the Money-bags, fool Cupid for one. So prithee talk not so big.
MILON
I talk not big, not I; pray be content, go thou on wi’ thy la
ying o’ the field, and strike up a song o’ love to thy leman. ‘Twill sweeten thy toil. Marry, I know thou wast a singer once.
BUCAEUS (sings)
Βάττος
Μοῖσαι Πιερίδες, συναείσατε τὰν ῥαδινάν μοι
παῖδ᾽: ὧν γάρ χ᾽ ἅψησθε θεαί, καλὰ πάντα ποεῖτε.
Βομβύκα χαρίεσσα, Σύραν καλέοντί τυ πάντες,
ἰσχνὰν ἁλιόκαυστον, ἐγὼ δὲ μόνος μελίχλωρον.
καὶ τὸ ἴον μέλαν ἐστὶ καὶ ἁ γραπτὰ ὑάκινθος,
ἀλλ᾽ ἔμπας ἐν τοῖς στεφάνοις τὰ πρᾶτα λέγονται.
ἁ αἲξ τὰν κύτισον, ὁ λύκος τὰν αἶγα διώκει, 30
ἁ γέρανος τὤροτρον, ἐγὼ δ᾽ ἐπὶ τὶν μεμάνημαι.
αἴθέ μοι ἦς, ὅσσα Κροῖσόν ποκα φαντὶ πεπᾶσθαι,
χρύσεοι ἀμφότεροί κ᾽ ἀνεκείμεθα τᾷ ᾿Αφροδίτᾳ,
τὼς αὐλὼς μὲν ἔχοισα καὶ ἢ ῥόδον ἢ μᾶλον τύ,
σχῆμα δ᾽ ἐγὼ καὶ καινὰς ἐπ᾽ ἀμφοτέροισιν ἀμύκλας.
Βομβύκα χαρίεσσ᾽, οἱ μὲν πόδες ἀστράγαλοί τευς,
ἁ φωνὰ δὲ τρύχνος: τὸν μὰν τρόπον οὐκ ἔχω εἰπεῖν.
[24] Pierian Muses, join with me a slender lass to sing;
For all ye Ladies take in hand ye make a pretty thing.
Bombýca fair, to other folk you may a Gipsy be;
Sunburnt and lean they call you; you’re honey-brown to me.
Of flowers the violet’s dark, and dark the lettered flag-flower tall,
But when there’s nosegays making they choose them first of all.
Dame Goat pursues the clover, Gray Wolf doth goat pursue,
Sir Stork pursues the plough; and I – O! I am wild for you,
Would all old Croesus had were mine! O then we’ld figured be
In good red gold for offerings rare before the Love-Ladye,
You with your pipes, a rose in hand or apple, I bedight
Above with mantle fine, below, new buskins left and right.
Bombyca fair, your pretty feet are knucklebones, and O!