by Longus
As was the custom at the festival of Dionysus and the birth of wine, the women were summoned from the nearby fields to provide help. They cast their eyes on Daphnis and praised his beauty as equal to Dionysus’, and one of the bolder ones even kissed him and goaded him on – Chloe was dismayed. Then the men around the presses hurled colourful remarks at Chloe, chanted maniacally like Satyrs around a bacchant and prayed to be her sheep and be tended by her, and she in turn was pleased – and Daphnis was dismayed. They both prayed that the harvest would quickly be over and that they could take up their customary haunts again, and that instead of this unmusical shouting they could hear their pipes or their bleating flocks. And in a few days the vines had been picked, the jars did hold their new wine and there was no need any more for extra hands, so they drove their flocks into the plain and, with much rejoicing, they paid their respects to the Nymphs and offered them grape clusters still on branches as first fruits of the harvest. They never had shown indifference when they passed by the Nymphs before: when they led their flocks to pasture, they would always salute the Nymphs, and when they went out from the pasture, they would pay their respects and bring some offering, a flower or a fruit or green leaves or a libation of milk. Sometime later, they received their just reward from the gods in return for these things, but at that moment, they were, as the saying goes, dogs off the leash – leaping, piping, singing, they wrestled with their goats and sheep.
While they were giving each other pleasure in this way, an old man approached, dressed in a goat’s hair cloak and wearing leather shoes, and carrying a bag (such an old bag). He sat down beside them, and said, ‘I am Philetas, my children, an old man who sang a good deal to these Nymphs here, and played the pipes many times to that Pan there, and I have led many herds of cows by my music alone. I have come to reveal to you what I have seen, to tell what I have heard. I have a garden, the work of my own hands, which I have cared for from the time I stopped herding because of old age. All the things that the seasons produce, my garden has each of them in due time. In the spring, it has roses and lilies and hyacinths and both kinds of violets; in the summer, poppies and pears and all kinds of fruit; and now, it has vines and figs and pomegranates and green myrtle. In the morning, flocks of birds come together in this garden, some come for food and some to sing; it’s thickly covered and shaded and watered by three springs. If the fence were removed, the garden would look like a grove.
‘When I went in at about noon today, I saw under the pomegranates and the myrtles a boy holding these same fruits. He was as white as milk and his hair was as golden as fire, and he was glistening as if he’d just bathed. He was naked, alone, and was enjoying himself there picking fruit as if he was doing this in his own garden. So, I rushed forward to catch him, fearing that through his arrogance he’d break my myrtles and pomegranates, but he escaped very easily by running under the rose bushes or hiding under the poppies like a partridge chick. Now, I am used to chasing animals: I’ve had my hands full many times before in chasing suckling kids, and I’ve tired myself out many times in running after newborn calves. But this was some shifting thing, impossible to hunt down. Well, I grew tired, being an old man, and so, while I leaned on my stick and watched him in case he should escape, I asked him which of the neighbours was his father and what he thought he was doing by picking fruit in someone else’s garden. But he didn’t answer, and drawing near, he laughed very softly and threw the myrtle berries at me – and in some way or the other charmed me out of my anger. So I told him not to be afraid any more and begged him to come into my arms. And I swore by the myrtle berries that I’d let him go and give him apples and pomegranates as well and allow him always to pick whatever fruit and pluck whatever flowers he wanted, if I could get from him just one kiss!
‘He laughed very loudly in response and let out a sound sweeter than any swallow’s or any nightingale’s or any swan’s, even when the swan’s as old as me: “It’s no trouble for me to kiss you; I want to be kissed more than you want to become young again. But see if the gift is suitable for a man of your years. Old age will not save you from not pursuing me further after you’ve had your one kiss. I’m difficult to hunt, and swifter than hawks or doves or any bird faster than them. I am not a boy even though I seem to be one, but am older than Cronus and all time itself. I knew you in the prime of your youth when you tended the scattered herd on this mountain, and I sat beside you when you played the pipes beneath those beeches and were in love with Amaryllis, but you didn’t see me though I was standing very close to the girl. So, I gave her to you, and now you have sons, good cowherds and farmers. But for the present I’m looking after Daphnis and Chloe, and after I bring them together in the morning, I come to your garden and enjoy its flowers and fruit and bathe in these springs. It is for this reason that your flowers and fruit are beautiful; they are irrigated by the waters of my bath. See for yourself whether any of your trees have been broken down or if any fruit have been picked or if any flowers have been trampled on or if any spring has been disturbed. And consider yourself lucky that you alone among old men have seen this boy.”
‘He finished speaking, and hopped up like a young nightingale into the myrtle, and gliding from one bough to the next through the leaves he ascended to the top. I saw the wings on his shoulders, the bow and arrows between his wings, and then I saw none of these things or even him any more. If I have not grown these grey hairs in vain, if in my old age I do not think useless thoughts, then I say it is to Love, my children, that you are consecrated, and Love cares for you.’
They were very delighted and thought they had heard a story rather than a true account, and they asked him what Love was, whether boy or bird, and what power he had. So, Philetas spoke again: ‘Love, my children, is a god, young and beautiful and winged; he rejoices in youth and pursues beauty and gives wings to souls. He has more power than Zeus himself: he rules the elements, he rules the stars, he rules over gods like himself. You have less power over your sheep and goats. All flowers are the work of Love, all the plants here are his creation, through him rivers flow and winds blow. I myself have seen a bull in love and he bellowed as if he were stung by a gadfly, and I have seen a he-goat loving a she-goat and following it everywhere. I myself was young once and loved Amaryllis, and I forgot about food and didn’t take any drink and sought no sleep: my soul fell sick, my heart throbbed, my body shivered in the chill; I cried out as if I were being beaten, I grew silent as if I’d become a corpse, I threw myself into rivers as if I was on fire. I called on Pan for help since he had himself loved the Nymph Pine; I praised Echo for calling out “Amaryllis” after me; I broke my pipes because they could charm the cows but couldn’t lead Amaryllis to me. There is no remedy, no cure, for Love, no drink, no food, no spells to chant, nothing – only kisses and embraces and lying down naked together.’
Philetas instructed them in these matters and went away, taking from them some cheeses and a kid with little horns. Now that they were left alone to themselves and had heard for the first time the name of Love, they were distressed in their hearts, and as they wandered back at nightfall to their dwellings, they compared their own feelings to what they had heard: ‘Lovers know sadness, and so do we. They do not care for food, and we don’t care either. They are unable to sleep; that is what we also are suffering now. They seem to be on fire; there is a fire within us too. They desire to see each other; that is why we pray for day to come quickly. Perhaps, this is love, and we love one another but do not know it. Or is this love, and I alone am in love? Then why are we sad about the same things? And why are we looking for one another? It was true, all that Philetas said. The boy from the garden is the same one who appeared to our fathers in that dream and ordered that we tend their flocks. How might anyone catch him? He’s small and will evade us. And how can anyone escape him? He has wings and will overtake us. We must flee to the Nymphs for help. But Pan did not help Philetas when he was in love with Amaryllis. All the cures he mentioned, that’s what we need to look
for – kisses and embraces and lying down naked on the ground. It will be very cold, but we are strong, like Philetas.’
This was the lesson they learned at night. On the next day, they led their flocks to pasture, and when they saw each other, they kissed, which they had never done before, and throwing their arms around each other, they embraced, but they shrank back from the third remedy, removing their clothes and lying down; that was too bold not only for virgins, but also for young goatherds. So once again night led to sleeplessness and to reflection on what had happened and self-blame for what they had passed over: ‘We kissed, and that was no help. We embraced, and that was nothing more. Perhaps, lying down together is the only cure for love. We must try this as well. That will have more power than a kiss.’
With such thoughts on their minds, it was natural that their dreams should also turn to love’s pleasures and to kisses and embraces. And they did in their dreams what they did not do by day: they lay down with each other naked. So they were more possessed by Love’s power when they woke up on the following morning, and they rushed to drive down their flocks to get to their kisses, and when they saw each other, they ran forward smiling. Then there were kisses, followed by arms and embraces, but the third remedy was slow to come, since Daphnis did not dare to say it and Chloe did not want to make the first move – until, by accident, they came to do this too.
They were sitting near each other by the trunk of an oak, and having tasted the delight of kissing, insatiably they took their fill of the pleasure; they threw their arms about in order to embrace, and their lips met as they pressed their bodies together. Daphnis hugged Chloe very tightly and she fell over on her side, and he, following her kiss, lay down with her; and recognizing the picture from their dreams, they lay down for a long time as if bound together. They knew nothing of the future, and thought that this was the limit of love’s pleasure; they wasted most of the day like this, and then separated, and drove back their flocks, hating nightfall. Perhaps, they would have made their way even to some of love’s truths if the disturbance that followed had not seized the whole countryside. This is what happened.
Wealthy young men from Methymna, wishing to mark the harvest by a pleasure trip away from home, launched a small ship and used their servants as rowers and sailed toward the fields of the Mytileneans that lie near the sea. The coast held out many safe harbours and was beautified with expensive houses, and everywhere there were baths and gardens and groves, some natural and others artificial, but all were fine places to spend one’s youthful energy in. They sailed by or moored their ship along the coastline, but they did no harm, and indulged in diverse pleasures: some with hooks attached to reeds fished, from a crag by the sea, with a thin line for fish beneath the rocks; others with dogs and nets hunted the hares that were escaping from the commotion in the vineyards; and some others thought about wild birds and set nets for wild geese and ducks and bustards, so that their pleasure pursuits also contributed to their table. If they needed anything more, they obtained it from the people in the fields, paying more obols than the goods were worth. They needed only bread and wine and shelter; they did not think it safe to spend the night at sea in that autumnal season, and so they hauled their ship to land because of their fear of storms at night.
One of the rustics needed a rope to suspend the stone that crushed the trampled grapes, since his was now broken, and he quietly went down to the sea, reached the unguarded ship, untied the cable and took it home to use for his own needs. In the morning, the young Methymneans made a search for the rope, but since no one confessed to the theft, they complained about their bad hosts and sailed away. They sailed for about thirty stades and landed in the fields in which Daphnis and Chloe lived, since they thought that it was a good plain for hunting hares. Since they did not now have a rope to moor the vessel with, they twisted a long green willow shoot into a rope and with it they tied the stern of the ship to the land. Then, they released their dogs to hunt by scent and set their nets in the most promising trails. And the dogs ran up and down barking and frightened the goats, which abandoned the mountains and rushed down towards the sea. The boldest of the goats, finding nothing to eat in the sand, went straight for the ship and ate up the green shoot with which it was moored.
And there was a slight swell in the sea, which was set in motion by the wind coming down from the mountains. Very soon the backwash of the wave lifted the untied boat and carried it out to the open sea. The Methymneans saw what was happening, and some of them rushed to the sea while others collected the dogs. All of them were shouting, so that all of those who were in the fields nearby could hear them and come together to help. But it was no use; for the wind reached full force, and the ship was carried away with the current at uncontrollable speed. The Methymneans, having lost a great deal of property, looked for the man who herded the goats and found Daphnis and beat him and stripped him. One of them took a dog leash and twisted his arms behind his back in order to tie him up. And he cried out as he was being beaten and shouted out to the rustics and called out first of all to Lamon and Dryas for help. These hardened old men, made strong by farm labour, came and lent their support to Daphnis, and demanded that an inquiry be held into the events.
And when the others also made the same demand, they appointed the cowherd Philetas as the judge; he was the oldest man present and had a reputation for exceptional honesty among the villagers. First, the Methymneans stated the case for the prosecution, with clarity and concision, because they knew they had a cowherd for judge: ‘We came to these fields because we wanted to hunt. We tied our ship with the green vine and left it on the shore, and we ourselves set out for the hunt with the dogs. In the meantime, this man’s goats came down to the sea and ate the vine and set loose the ship. Did you see it carried out to the sea? Do you know how many of our possessions were on it? So many clothes lost and equipment for the dogs and silver coins. With that much silver, a man could buy all these fields. For this, we demand the right to seize this worthless goatherd who puts his goats to pasture by the sea as if he were a sailor.’
These were the charges made by the Methymneans. Daphnis was in a bad way because of the beating, but when he saw that Chloe was present, he dismissed all his bruises, and said: ‘I know quite well how to pasture my goats. Not a single villager has ever blamed me because a goat of mine has grazed in his garden or crushed the tender vine. But these hunters are vile and their dogs are poorly trained, they run about too much and they bark bitterly and like wolves they drive my goats down from the hills and plains to the sea. “But the goats ate up the willow shoot.” And that’s because they didn’t have grass or wild strawberry or thyme in the sand. “But the ship was destroyed by the wind and the sea.” Yes, and that is the work of the storm, not of the goats. “But the ship had clothes and money.” And what sane person would believe that a ship carrying such a load would be held just by a willow shoot?’
With these words, Daphnis burst into tears, and so completely moved the rustics to pity that Philetas the judge swore by Pan and the Nymphs that neither Daphnis nor his goats were in the wrong, but rather the sea and the wind, and over these, he said, there were other judges. Philetas’ words did not convince the Methymneans, who in their anger dragged Daphnis away again and wanted to tie him up. The villagers were now annoyed, and set upon them like starlings or jackdaws, and quickly they freed Daphnis, who was fighting in his own right, and quickly they beat them with clubs and put them to flight. They did not cease until they had driven them across their borders and into the fields of others.
While they were pursuing the Methymneans, Chloe led Daphnis gently to the cave of the Nymphs and bathed his face, which was stained with blood from a blow that broke his nose, and from her bag she took out a slice of bread and a piece of cheese and gave these to him to eat, and what was most refreshing of all, she kissed him a honey-sweet kiss with her soft lips.
So close to disaster did Daphnis come on that occasion. And the matter did not end there. When th
e Methymneans came back to their homes, which they did with difficulty, this time by road rather than by sea, and with bruises rather than with revelry, they summoned an assembly of citizens and taking the role of suppliants, claimed that they had a right to vengeance. They said nothing that was true, lest they become a laughing stock for having been treated in such a humiliating way by mere shepherds, and they accused the Mytileneans of destroying their ship and plundering their money as if they had been at war. Their people believed them because of their wounds and thought it right to avenge young men who came from prominent homes, and they voted for war against the Mytileneans, without an official declaration, and they ordered the general to launch ten ships for the purpose of making raids on their enemy’s shore; since winter was near, it was not safe for them to entrust a larger fleet to the sea.
Straightaway, on the next day, the general put out to sea with soldiers at the oars and raided the coastal farmlands of Mytilene, looting their sheep, their bread, their wine (the harvest had just come to an end), while seizing many of the men who were working there. He also attacked the fields of Chloe and Daphnis, and making a swift raid, drove off as booty whatever animals he encountered. Daphnis was not grazing his goats but had gone up to the wood to cut green leaves so that he might have food for the kids during the winter, with the result that he was up there when he saw the raid, and he hid himself in the hollow trunk of a dry beech tree. But Chloe was among her flocks; she was pursued, and fled to the Nymphs for protection, and she asked them in the name of the goddess to spare her and her flocks. But it was no use. The Methymneans violently ridiculed the statues and drove away the flocks and led off Chloe herself, beating her with willow shoots as if she were a goat or sheep.