Works of Nonnus

by Nonnus

εἴκελος ἡβητῆρι, καὶ ἀκλινὲς ἀμφὶ προσώπῳ

  ψευδαλέον μίμημα σαόφρονος ἔπλασεν αἰδοῦς:

  130 καὶ πῇ μὲν σκοπίαζεν ἐρημάδος ἄκρον ἐρίπνης,

  πῇ δὲ τανυπτόρθοιο βαθύσκιον εἰς ῥάχιν ὕλης,

  εἰς πίτυν ὄμμα φέρων λελιημένον, ἄλλοτε πεύκην

  ἢ πτελέην ἐδόκευε: φυλασσομένου δὲ προσώπου

  ὄμμασι λαθριδίοισιν ἐδέρκετο γείτονα κούρην,

  135 μή μιν ἀλυσκάζειε μετάτροπος: ἠιθέῳ γὰρ

  κάλλος ὀπιπεύοντι καὶ ἥλικος ὄμματα κούρης

  Κυπριδίων ἐλάχεια παραίφασίς ἐστιν Ἐρώτων.

  [124] So the god spoke; and changing his form for another he plunged into the shady thicket where the maiden was, Euios wholly like a hunter; in a new and unknown aspect he joined the softhaired unyoked maid, like a youth, moulding a false image of modesty with steady looks on his face. Now he surveyed the peak of a lonely rock, now he spied into the long-branching trees on the uplands, turning an eager eye on a pine or again inspecting a firtree, or an elm — but with cautious countenance and stolen glances he watched the girl so close to him, lest she should turn and run away; for beauty and the eyes of a girl of his own age have little consolation to a lad who gazes at her for the loves which the Cyprian sends.

  καὶ Βερόης σχεδὸν ἦλθε καὶ ἤθελε μῦθον ἐνίψαι,

  ἀλλὰ φόβῳ πεπέδητο: φιλεύιε, πῇ σέο θύρσοι

  140 ἀνδροφόνοι; πῇ φρικτὰ κεράατα; πῇ σέο χαίτῃ

  γλαυκὰ πεδοτρεφέων ὀφιώδεα δεσμὰ δρακόντων;

  πῇ στομάτων μύκημα βαρύβρομον; ἆ μέγα θαῦμα,

  παρθένον ἔτρεμε Βάκχος, ὃν ἔτρεμε φῦλα Γιγάντων:

  γηγενέων ὀλετῆρα φόβος νίκησεν Ἐρώτων:

  145 τοσσατίων δ᾽ ἤμησεν ἀρειμανέων γένος Ἰνδῶν,

  καὶ μίαν ἱμερόεσσαν ἀνάλκιδα δείδιε κούρην,

  δείδιε θηλυτέρην ἁπαλόχροον: ἐν δὲ κολώναις

  θηρονόμῳ νάρθηκι κατεπρήυνε λεόντων

  φρικαλέον μύκημα, καὶ ἔτρεμε θῆλυν ἀπειλήν:

  150 καί οἱ ἐριπτοίητον ὑπὸ στόμα μῦθος ἀλήτης

  γλῶσσαν ἐς ἀκροτάτην ἐτιταίνετο χείλεϊ γείτων,

  ἐκ φρενὸς ἀίσσων καὶ ἐπὶ φρένα νόστιμος ἕρπων:

  ἀλλὰ φόβον γλυκύπικρον ἔχων αἰδήμονι σιγῇ

  εἰς φάος ἐσσυμένην παλινάγρετον ἔσπασε φωνήν.

  155 καὶ μόγις ὑστερόμυθον ὑπὸ στόμα δεσμὸν ἀράξας

  αἰδοῦς ἀμβολιεργὸν ἀπεσφήκωσε σιωπήν,

  καὶ Βερόην ἐρέεινε χέων ψευδήμονα φωνήν:

  [138] He came near to Beroe and would have spoken a word, but fear held him fast. God of jubilation, where is your manslaying thyrsus? Where your frightful horns? Where the green snaky ropes of earthfed serpents in your hair? Where is your heavy-booming bellow? See a great miracle — Bacchos trembling before a maid, Bacchos before whom the tribes of the giants trembled! Love’s fear has conquered the destroyer of giants. He mowed down all that warmad nation of the Indians, and he fears one weak lovely girl, fears a tender woman. On the mountains he quieted the terrifying roar of lions with his beast-ruling fennel, and he trembled before a woman’s threat. A word strayed into his trembling mouth to the tip of his tongue close behind the lips — it came from his heart and crept back to his heart again, but the bittersweet fear held it in shamefast silence, and drew back the voice, as it tried to issue into the light. Too late he spoke, and hardly then, when he burst the chain of shame from his lips and undid the procrastinating silence, and asked Beroe in a voice of pretence,

  ‘Ἄρτεμι, πῇ σέο τόξα;τίς ἥρπασε σεῖο φαρέτρην;

  πῇ λίπες, ὃν φορέεις ἐπιγουνίδος ἄχρι χιτῶνα;

  160 πῇ σέο κεῖνα πέδιλα, θοώτερα κυκλάδος αὔρης;

  πῇ χορὸς ἀμφιπόλων;πῇ δίκτυα; πῇ κύνες ἀργαί;

  οὐ δρόμον ἐντύνεις κεμαδοσσόον: οὐκ ἐθέλεις γὰρ

  ἀγρώσσειν, ὅθι Κύπρις Ἀδώνιδος ἐγγὺς ἰαύει.’

  [158] “Artemis, where are your arrows? Who has stolen your quiver? Where did you leave the tunic you wear, just covering the knees? Where are those boots quicker than the whirling wind? Where is your company in attendance? Where are your nets? Where your fleet hounds? You are not making ready for chase of the pricket, for you do not wish to hunt where Cypris is sleeping beside Adonis.”

  ἔννεπε θάμβος ἔχων ἀπατήλιον: ἐν κραδίῃ δὲ

  165 παρθενικὴ μείδησεν: ἀπειροκάκῳ δὲ μενοινῇ

  αὐχένα γαῦρον ἄειρεν ἀγαλλομένη χάριν ἥβης,

  ὅττι, γυνή περ ἐοῦσα, φυὴν ἤικτο θεαίνῃ:

  οὐδὲ δόλον γίνωσκε νοοπλανέος Διονύσου.

  καὶ πλέον ἄχνυτο Βάκχος, ἐπεὶ πόθον οὐ μάθε κούρη

  νήπιον ἦθος ἔχουσα, καὶ ἤθελεν, ὄφρα δαείη

  170 οἶστρον ἑὸν βαρύμοχθον, ἐπισταμένης ὅτι κούρης

  ὄψιμος ἠιθέῳ περιλείπεται ἐλπὶς Ἐρώτων

  ἐσσομένης φιλότητος, ἐπ᾽ ἀπρήκτῳ δὲ μενοινῇ

  ἀνέρες ἱμείρουσιν, ὅτ᾽ ἀγνώσσουσι γυναῖκες.

  [164] So he spoke, feigning astonishment, and the maiden smiled in her heart; she lifted a proud neck in unsuspicious pleasure, rejoicing in her youthful freshness, because she, a mortal woman, was likened to a goddess in beauty, and did not see the trick of mindconfusing Dionysos. But Bacchos was yet more affected, because the girl in her childish simplicity knew not desire; he wished she might learn his own overpowering passion, since when the girl knows, there is always hope for the lad that love will come at last, but when women do not notice, man’s desire is only a fruitless anxiety.

  175 καὶ θεὸς ἦμαρ ἐπ᾽ ἦμαρ ἔσω πιτυώδεος ὕλης

  δείελος, εἰς μέσον ἦμαρ, Ἑώιος, Ἕσπερος ἕρπων,

  παρθενικῇ παρέμιμνε, καὶ ἤθελεν εἰσέτι μίμνειν:

  πάντων γὰρ κόρος ἐστὶ παρ᾽ ἀνδράσιν, ἡδέος ὕπνου

  μολπῆς τ᾽ εὐκελάδοιο καὶ ὁππότε κάμπτεται ἀνὴρ

  180 εἰς δρόμον ὀρχηστῆρα: γυναιμανέοντι δὲ μούνῳ

  οὐ κόρος ἐστὶ πόθων: ἐψεύσατο βίβλος Ὁμήρου.

  [175] Thus day after day, midday and afternoon, morning and evening, the god lingered in the pine-wood, waiting for the girl and ever willing to wait; for men can have enough of all things, of sweet sleep and melodious song, and when one turns in the moving dance — but only the man mad for love never has enough of his longing; Homer’s book did not tell the truth!

  καὶ μογέων Διόνυσο�
� ὑπεβρυχᾶτο σιωπῇ,

  δαιμονίῃ μάστιγι τετυμμένος, ἔνδοθι πέσσων

  κρυπτὸν ἀκοιμήτων ὑποκάρδιον ἕλκος Ἐρώτων,

  185 ὡς δ᾽ ὅτε βοῦς ἀκίχητος ἔσω πλαταμῶνος ὁδεύων

  ἑσμὸν ὀρεσσινόμων παρεμέτρεεν ἠθάδα ταύρων

  οἰστρηθεὶς ἀγέληθεν, ὃν εὐπετάλῳ παρὰ λόχμῃ

  βουτύπος ὀξυόεντι μύωψ ἐχαράσσετο κέντρῳ

  ἀπροϊδής, ὀλίγῳ δὲ δέμας βεβολημένος οἴστρῳ

  190 τηλίκος ἐστυφέλικτο, καὶ ὄρθιον ὑψόθι νώτου

  ἂψ ἀνασειράζων παλινάγρετον ἔσπασεν οὐρὴν

  κυρτὸς ἐπιτρίβων σκοπέλων ῥάχιν, ἀντίτυπον δὲ

  ὀξὺ κέρας δόχμωσεν ἀνούτατον ἠέρα τύπτων:

  οὕτω καὶ Διόνυσον, ὃν ἔστεφε πολλάκι νίκη,

  195 βαιὸς Ἔρως οἴστρησε βαλὼν πανθελγέι κέντρῳ.

  [182] Dionysos suffered and moaned in silence, struck with the divine whip, stewing the hidden wound of love in his restless heart. As an ox goes scampering over the flats past the well-know swarm of hillranging bulls, driven from the herd when a gadfly has pierced his hide with sharp sting under the leafy trees unnoticed: how small the sting that strikes, how vast the bulk of the routed beast! he lifts the tail straight over his back and lashes back, bends and scratches his chine on the rocks, and darts a sharp horn at his side striking only the unwounded elastic air — so Dionysos, crowned so often with victory, was pricked by little Love and his allbewitching sting.

  ὀψὲ δὲ μαστεύων γλυκὺ φάρμακον εἰς Ἀφροδίτην

  Κυπριδίην ἄγρυπνον ἑὴν ἀνέφαινεν ἀνάγκην,

  καὶ βουλὴν ἐρέεινεν, ἀλεξήτειραν Ἐρώτων.

  200 καὶ καμάτους Βάκχοιο πυριπνείοντας ἀκούων

  Πὰν κερόεις ἐγέλασσε, κατεκλάσθη δὲ μενοινῇ

  οἰκτείρων δυσέρωτα δυσίμερος: εἶπε δὲ βουλὴν

  Κυπριδίην: ὀλίγην δὲ παραίφασιν εἶχεν Ἐρώτων

  ἄλλον ἰδὼν φλεχθέντα μιῆς σπινθῆρι φαρέτρης:

  [196] At length, seeking a sweet medicine for love, he disclosed to bushybreasted Pan in words full of passion the unsleeping constraint of his desire, and craved advice to defend him against love. Horned Pan laughed aloud, when he heard the firebreathing torments of Bacchos, but, a luckless lover himself, heartbroken he pitied one unhappy in love, and gave him love-advice; it was a small alleviation of his own love to see another burnt with a spark from the same quiver:

  205 ‘Ξυνὰ παθών, φίλε Βάκχε, τεὰς ᾤκτειρα μερίμνας:

  καὶ σὲ πόθεν νίκησεν Ἔρως θρασύς; εἰ θέμις εἰπεῖν,

  εἰς ἐμὲ καὶ Διόνυσον Ἔρως ἐκένωσε φαρέτρην.

  ἀλλὰ πόθου δολίοιο πολύτροπον ἦθος ἐνίψω.

  [205] “We are companions in suffering, friend Bacchos, and I pity your feelings. How comes it that bold Love has conquered you too? If I dare to say so, Eros has emptied his quiver on me and Dionysos! But I will tell you the multifarious ways of deception in love.

  πᾶσα γυνὴ ποθέει πλέον ἀνέρος, αἰδομένη δὲ

  210 κεύθει κέντρον Ἔρωτος ἐρωμανέουσα καὶ αὐτή,

  καὶ μογέει πολὺ μᾶλλον, ἐπεὶ σπινθῆρες Ἐρώτων

  θερμότεροι γεγάασιν, ὅτε κρύπτουσι γυναῖκες

  ἐνδόμυχον πραπίδεσσι πεπαρμένον ἰὸν Ἐρώτων.

  καὶ γὰρ ὅτ᾽ ἀλλήλῃσι πόθων ἐνέπουσιν ἀνάγκην,

  215 λυσιπόνοις ὀάροισιν ὑποκλέπτουσι μερίμνας

  Κυπριδίας. σὺ δέ, Βάκχε, τεῶν ὀχετηγὸν Ἐρώτων

  μιμηλῆς ἐρύθημα φέρων ἀπατήλιον αἰδοῦς.

  οἶα σαοφρονέουσαν ἔχων ἀγέλαστον ὀπωπήν,

  ὡς ἀέκων Βερόης σχεδὸν ἵστασο: καὶ λίνα πάλλων

  220 θαύματι μὲν δολίῳ ῥοδοειδέα δέρκεο κούρην,

  κάλλος ἐπαινήσας, ὅτι τηλίκον οὐ λάχεν Ἥρη,

  καὶ Χάριτας κίκλησκε χερείονας, ἀμφοτέρων δὲ

  225 μορφῇ μῶμον ἄναπτε, καὶ Ἀρτέμιδος καὶ Ἀθήνης,

  καὶ Βερόην ἀγόρευε φαεινοτέρην Ἀφροδίτης:

  κούρη δ᾽ εἰσαΐουσα τεὴν ψευδήμονα μομφὴν

  αἴνῳ τερπομένη πλέον ἵσταται: οὐκ ἐθέλει γὰρ

  ὄλβον ὅλον χρύσειον, ὅσον ῥοδέης περὶ μορφης

  230 εἰσαϊειν, ὅτι κάλλος ὑπέρβαλεν ἥλικος ἥβης.

  παρθενικὴν δ᾽ ἐς ἔρωτα νοήμονι θέλγε σιωπῇ,

  κινυμένων βλεφάρων ἀντώπια νεύματα πέμπων:

  πεπταμένῃ δὲ μέτωπον ἀφειδέι χειρὶ πατάξας

  ψευδαλέον δέο θάμβος ἐχέφρονι δείκνυε σιγῇ

  ἀλλὰ φόβος μεθέπει σε σαόφρονος ἐγγύθι κούρης:

  εἰπέ, τί σοὶ ῥέξει μία παρθένος; οὐ δόρυ πάλλει,

  235 οὐ ῥοδέῃ παλάμῃ τανύει βέλος: ἔγχεα κούρης

  ὀφθαλμοὶ γεγάασιν ἀκοντιστῆρες Ἐρώτων,

  παρθενικῆς δὲ βέλεμνα ῥοδώπιδές εἰσι παρειαί.

  ἕδνα δὲ σοῖο πόθοιο, τεῆς κειμήλια νύμφης,

  μὴ λίθον Ἰνδῴην, μὴ μάργαρα χειρὶ τινάξῃς,

  240 οἶα γυναιμανέοντι πέλει θέμις: εἰς Παφίην γάρ

  ἀμφιέπεις τεὸν εἶδος ἐπάρκιον, εὐαφέος δὲ

  κάλλεος ἱμείρουσι καὶ οὐ χρυσοῖο γυναῖκες.

  [209] “Every woman has greater desire than the man, but shamefast she hides the sting of love, though mad for love herself; and she suffers much more, since the sparks of love become hotter when women conceal in their bosoms the piercing arrow of love. Indeed, when they tell each other of the force of desire, their gossip is meant to soothe the pain and deceive their voluptuous longings. And you, Bacchos, must wear a deceptive blush of pretended shame to carry your love along. You must keep an unsmiling countenance as if through modesty, and stand beside Beroe as if by mere chance. Hold your nets in hand, and look at the rosy girl with pretended amazement, praising her beauty; say that not Hera has the like, call the Graces less fair, find fault with the good looks of both Artemis and Athena, tell Beroe she is more brilliant than Aphrodite. Then the girl when she hears your feigned faultfinding, stands there more delighted with your praise; more than mountains of gold she would hear about her rosy comeliness, how her beauty surpasses all the friends of her youth. Charm the maiden to love with a meaning silence. Let your eyelids move, send wink and beck towards her. Open your hand and slap your brow without mercy, and show your feigned amazement by prude
nt silence. You will say, fear restrains you in the presence of a modest maid; tell me, what will a lonely girl do to you? She shakes no spear, she draws no shaft with that rosy hand; the girl’s weapons are those eyes which shoot love, her batteries are those rose-red girlish cheeks. For lovegifts to be treasures for your bride, do not display the Indian jewel, or pearls, as is the way of mad lovers; for to get love, your own handsome shape is enough — to touch your beautiful body is what women want, not gold!

  μαρτυρίης ἑτέρης οὐ δεύομαι: ἁβροκόμου γὰρ

  ποῖα πἀ Ἐνδυμίωνος ἐδέξατο δῶρα Σελήνη;

  245 Κύπριδι ποῖον Ἄδωνις ἐδείκνυεν ἕδνον Ἐρώτων;

  ἄργυρον Ὠρίων οὐκ ὤπασεν ἠριγενείῃ:

  οὐ Κέφαλος πόρεν ὄλβον ἐπήρατον: ἀλλ᾽ ἄρα μοῦνος

  χωλὸς ἐὼν Ἥφαιστος ἀθελγέος εἵνεκα μορφῆς

  ὤπασε ποικίλα δῶρα, καὶ οὐ παρέπεισεν Ἀθήνην:

  250 οὐ πέλεκυς χραίσμησε λεχώιος: ἀλλά θεαίνης

  [243] “I need no other testimony — what gifts did Selene take from softhaired Endymion? What love-gift did Adonis produce for Cypris? Orion gave no silver to Dawn; Cephalos provided no delectable wealth; but the only one it seems who did offer handsome gifts was Hephaistos, being lame, to make up for his unattractive looks, and then he failed to persuade Athena — his birthdelivering axe did not help him, but he missed the goddess he wanted.

  ἱμείρων ἀφάμαρτε. σὲ δὲ ζυγίων ὑμεναίων

  φέρτερον, ἢν ἐθέλῃς, θελκτήριον ἄλλο διδάξω:

  βάρβιτα χειρὶ λίγαινε, τεῆς ἀναθήματα Ῥείης,

  Κύπριδος ἁβρὸν ἄγαλμα παροίνιον: ἀμφοτέροις δὲ

  255 πλήκτροις καὶ στομάτεσσι χέων ἑτερόθροον ἠχώ.

  δάφνην πρῶτον ἄειδε καἰ ἀσταθέος δρόμον Ἠχοῦς