BOOK X.

We have now said sufficient about Syene, which, from the brink of danger, was at once restored to security and happiness, by one man's clemency.

Hydaspes, having sent the greater part of his army forward, proceeded in person towards Ethiopia, followed by the applauses and blessings both of Persians and Syenæans. At first he marched along the Nile, or the parts bordering upon that river; but when he reached the cataracts, having sacrificed to the river, and to the gods of the boundaries, he turned aside, and travelled through the inland country.

When he arrived at Philœ, he rested, and refreshed his army there for two days; and then as before, sending part of it forward, together with the captives, he stayed some little time behind them, to direct the repair of the walls, and to place a garrison, and soon afterwards set out himself. He dispatched an express consisting of two troopers, who changing their horses at every station, and using all speed, were to announce his victory at Meröe.[1]

He sent the following message to the wise men of his country, who are called Gymnosophists, and who are the assessors and privy councillors of the Ethiopian kings in affairs of moment.

"Hydaspes to the most holy Council.

"I acquaint you with my victory over the Persians. I do not boast of my success, for I know and fear the mutability of fortune; but I would greet your holy order, which I have always found wise and faithful. I invite and command your attendance at the usual place, in order that the thanksgiving sacrifices for victory, may, by your presence, be rendered more august and solemn in the sight of the Ethiopian people."

To his consort, Persina, he wrote as follows:--

"Know that I am returning a conqueror, and, what you will still more rejoice at, unhurt. Make therefore preparations for the most sumptuous processions and sacrifices, that we may give thanks to the gods, for the blessings which they have bestowed. In accordance with my letters, assist in summoning the Gymnosophists; and hasten to attend, with them, in the consecrated field before the city, which is dedicated to our country's gods--the Sun, the Moon, and Bacchus."

When this letter was delivered to Persina--"I now see," said she, "the interpretation of a dream which I had last night. Methought I was pregnant, and in labour, and that I brought forth a daughter in the full bloom of youth and beauty. I see, that by my throes, were signified the travails of war; and by my daughter, this victory."

"Go," continued she, "and fill the city with these joyful tidings." The expresses obeyed her commands; and mounting their horses, having crowned their heads with the lotus of the Nile, and waving branches of palm in their hands, rode through the principal parts of the city, disclosing by their very appearance, the joyous news.

Meröe resounded with rejoicings; night and day the inhabitants, in every family, and street, and tribe, made processions, offered sacrifices, and suspended garlands in the temples; not more out of gratitude for the victory, than for the safety of Hydaspes; whose justice and clemency, mildness and affability, had made him beloved, like a father, by his subjects. The queen, on her side, collected together from all parts, quantities of sheep and oxen, of horses and wild asses, of hippogriffs,[2] and all sorts of animals, and sent them into the sacred field, partly to furnish a hecatomb of each, for sacrifice, partly to provide from the remainder, an entertainment for all the people.

She next visited the Gymnosophists, who inhabit the grove of Pan, and exhorted them to obey the summons of their king, as also to gratify her by adorning and sanctifying the solemnity with their presence. They, entreating her to wait a few moments, while they consulted the gods, as they are used to do on any new undertaking, entered their temple, and after a short time returned, when Sisimithres, their president, thus addressed her:--"Ο queen! we will attend you, the gods order us to do so; but, at the same time, they signify to us, that this sacrifice will be attended with much disturbance and tumult, which, however, will have an agreeable and happy end. A limb of your body, or a member of the state, seems to have been lost; which will be restored by fate."

"Your presence," said Persina, "will avert every threatening presage, and change it into good; I will take care to inform you when Hydaspes arrives."

"You will have no occasion to do that," replied Sisimithres: "he will arrive to-morrow, and you will presently receive letters to that effect." His prediction was fulfilled. Persina, on her return to the palace, found a messenger with letters from the king, announcing his intended arrival for the following day.

The heralds dispersed the news through the city, and at the same time, made proclamation, that the men alone should be suffered to go out and meet him, but that the women should keep within their houses; for, as the sacrifice was destined to be offered to the purest of all deities--the Sun and Moon--the presence of females was forbidden, lest the victims should acquire even an involuntary contamination.

The priestess of the Moon was the only woman suffered to attend the ceremony, and she was Persina; for by the law and custom of the country, the queens of Ethiopia are always priestesses of that divinity, as the kings are of the Sun. Chariclea, also was to be present at the ceremonial, not as a spectatress, but as a victim to the Moon.

The eagerness and curiosity of the citizens was incredible. Before they knew the appointed day, they poured in multitudes out of the city, crossed the river Astabora, some over the bridge; some who dwelt at a distance from it, in boats made of canes, many of which lay near the banks, affording an expeditious means of passage.

These little skiffs are very swift, both on account of the materials of which they are composed, and the slight burden which they carry, which never exceeds two or three men: for one cane is split in two, and each section forms a boat.[3]

Meröe, the metropolis of Ethiopia, is situated in a sort of triangular island, formed by the confluence of three navigable rivers; the Nile, the Astabora, and the Asasoba. The former flows towards it from above, where it forms two branches; the others, flowing round it on either side, unite their waters, and hasten to mingle their stream, and lose their names, in the channel of the Nile.

This island, which is almost a continent, (being in length three thousand furlongs, in width one thousand), abounds in animals of every kind, and, among the rest, with elephants. It is especially fertile in producing trees. The palm trees rise to an unusual height, bearing dates of large size and delicious flavour. The stalks of wheat and barley are so tall, as to cover and conceal a man when mounted on a horse or camel, and they multiply their fruit three hundred fold. The canes are of the size which I have before mentioned.

All the night were the inhabitants employed in crossing the river; they met, received, and congratulated Hydaspes, extolling him as a god. They had gone a considerable way to meet him. The Gymnosophists went only a little beyond the sacred field, when, taking his hand, they kissed him. Next appeared Persina at the vestibule, and within the precincts of the temple.

After worshipping the gods, and returning thanks for his victory and safety, they left the precincts, and prepared to attend the approaching sacrifice, repairing for that purpose to a tent, which had been erected for them on the plain. Four canes, newly cut down, were fixed in the ground, one at each corner, serving as a pillar, supported the vaulted roof, which was covered with the branches of palm and other trees. Near this another tent was erected, raised considerably from the ground, in which were placed the images of the gods of the country--Memnon, Perseus, and Andromeda--whom the kings of Ethiopia boasted to be the founders of their race: under these, on a lower story, having their gods above them, sat the Gymnosophists. A large portion of the ground was surrounded by the soldiers; who in close order, and with their shields joined, kept off the multitude, and afforded a clear space sufficient for the priests to perform their sacrifice, without confusion or disturbance.

Hydaspes, after speaking briefly upon the victory which he had gained, and the advantages obtained by it to the state, commanded the sacred ministers to begin their rites.

Three lofty altars were erected, two in close proximity to the Sun and Moon; a third, at some distance, to Bacchus: to him they sacrificed animals of every kind, as being a common deity, gracious and bountiful to all. To the Sun they offered four white horses, the swiftest of animals to the swiftest of the gods;[4] to the Moon, a yoke of oxen, consecrating to her, as being nearest the earth, their assistants in agriculture.

While these things were transacting, a loud confused murmur began to rise as among a promiscuous multitude; "Let our country's rites be performed--let the appointed sacrifice be made--let the first-fruits of war be offered to our gods."

Hydaspes understood that it was a human victim whom they demanded, which it was customary to offer from among the prisoners taken only in a foreign war. Making a motion for silence, with his hand, he intimated to them, by gestures, that they should soon have what they required, and ordered those who had the charge of the captives to bring them forward. They obeyed, and led them forth, guarded, but freed from their chains.

The generality were, as may be imagined, dejected and sorrowful. Theagenes, however, appeared much less so than the others; but the countenance of Chariclea was cheerful and elate. She fixed her eyes upon Persina with a fixed and steady glance, so as to cause in her considerable emotion; she could not help sighing, as she said--"Ο husband! what a maiden have you destined for sacrifice! I never remember to have seen such beauty. How noble is her presence! with what spirit and fortitude does she seem to meet her impending fate! How worthy is she of compassion, owing to the flower of her age. If my only and unfortunately lost daughter were living, she would be about the same age. Ο that it were possible to save this maiden from destruction; it would be a great satisfaction to me to have her in my service. She is probably Grecian, for she has not at all the air of an Egyptian."

"She is from Greece," replied Hydaspes: "who are her parents she will presently declare; shew them she cannot, though such has been her promise. To deliver her from sacrifice is impossible: were it in my power, I should be very glad to do so; for I feel, I know not why, great compassion and affection for her. But you are aware that the law requires a male to be offered to the Sun, and a female to the Moon; and she being the first captive presented to me, and having been allotted for the sacrifice, the disappointment of the people's wishes would admit of no excuse. One only chance can favour her escape, and that is, if she should be found when she ascends the pile, not to have preserved her chastity inviolate; for the law demands a pure victim to be offered to the goddess as well as to the god--the condition of those offered on the altar of Bacchus is indifferent. But should she be found unchaste, reflect whether it would be proper that she should be received into your family."

"Let her," replied Persina, "be found unchaste, provided only she be preserved. Captivity and war, absence from friends, and a wandering life, furnish an excuse for guilt, particularly in her, whose transcendent beauty must have exposed her to more than common temptations."

While she was weeping and striving to conceal her weakness from the people, Hydaspes ordered the fire-altar[5] to be prepared, and brought out. A number of young children, collected by the officials from among the multitude, brought it from the temple (they alone being permitted to touch it), and placed it in the midst. Each of the captives was then ordered to ascend it. It was furnished with golden bars of such mystic virtue, that whenever any unchaste or perjured person placed his foot upon it, it burnt him immediately, and he was obliged to retire: the pure, on the contrary, and the uncontaminated, could mount it uninjured.

The greatest part of the prisoners failed in the trial, and were destined as victims to Bacchus, and the other gods--save two or three Grecian maidens whose virginity was found intact. Theagenes at length ascended it, and was found pure. It raised great admiration in the assembly, that with his beauty, stature, and in the flower of youth, he should be a stranger to the power of love--accordingly he was destined as an offering to the Sun. He said softly to Chariclea--"Is death then, and sacrifice, the reward which the Ethiopians bestow upon purity and integrity? But why, my dearest life, do you not discover yourself? How long will you delay? Until the sacrificer's knife is at your throat? Speak, I beseech you, and disclose your condition. Perhaps when you are known, your intercession may preserve me; but if that should not happen, you will be safe, and then I shall die with comfort and satisfaction."

"Our trial," said Chariclea, "now approaches--our fate trembles in the balance."[6]--So saying, and without awaiting any command, she drew from out of a scrip which she had with her, and put on, her sacred Delphic robe, interwoven and glittering with rays of light. She let her hair fall dishevelled upon her shoulders, and as under the influence of inspiration, leaped upon the altar, and remained there a long time, unhurt.

Dazzling every beholder with more than ever resplendent beauty; visible to all from this elevated place, and with her peculiar dress, she resembled an image of the goddess, more than a mere mortal maiden. An inarticulate murmur of applause ran through the multitude, expressive of their surprise and admiration, that with charms so superhuman, she should have preserved her honour, enhancing her beauty by her chastity.[7] Yet they were almost sorry that she was found a pure and fitting victim for the goddess. Notwithstanding their religious reverence they would have been glad could she by any means escape. But Persina felt more for her than all the rest. She could not help saying to Hydaspes--"How miserable and ill-fated is this poor maiden! To no purpose giving token of her purity! Receiving for her many virtues only an untimely death! Can nothing be done to save her?"

"Nothing, I fear," replied the king: "your wishes and pity are unavailable. It seems that the gods have from the beginning selected by reason of her very excellence this perfect victim for themselves." And then directing his discourse to the Gymnosophists: "Sages," said he, "since every thing is ready, why do you not begin the sacrifice?"--"Far be it from us," said Sisimithres (speaking in Greek, that the multitude might not understand him) "to assist at such rites; our eyes and ears have already been sufficiently wounded by the preparations. We will retire into the temple, abhorring ourselves the detestable offering of a human victim, and believing too that the gods do not approve it. Would that the sacrifices even of brute animals might cease; those consisting of prayers and incense being, to our mind, sufficient.[8] Do you, however, remain; for the presence of a ruler is sometimes necessary to stay the turbulence of the multitude. Go on with this unhallowed sacrifice, since the inveterate custom of the people has made it unavoidable; remembering that when it is performed, yourself will stand in need of expiation, though perhaps, you will not need it, for I think this rite will never be brought to consummation. I judge from various divine tokens, and particularly from a kind of glory shed around these strangers, signifying that they are under the peculiar protection of the gods;"--having said this, he arose, and was about to retire with his brethren.

At this instant Chariclea leapt down from the altar; rushed towards Sisimithres, and fell at his feet. The officials would have hindered her, supposing that she was deprecating death, but she exclaimed "Stay, Sages, I beseech you! I have a cause to plead before the king and queen; you are the only judges, in such a presence; you must decide in this, the trial for my life. You will find that it is neither possible nor just that I should be sacrificed to the gods." They listened to her readily, and addressing the king, said,--"Do you hear, Ο king, the challenge and averment of this foreign maiden."

Hydaspes smiling, replied, "What controversy can she have with me? From what pretext, or from what right, can it arise?"--"That, her own relation will discover," said Sisimithres.--"But will it not be an indignity, rather than an act of justice," rejoined the monarch, "for a king to enter into a judicial dispute with a slave?"--"Equity regards not lofty rank," said the sage. "He is king in judgment who prevails by strength of arguments."--"But," returned Hydaspes, "your office gives you a right of deciding only when a controversy arises between the king and his own subjects, not between him and foreigners."--"Justice," said Sisimithres, "is weighed among the wise, not by mere appearances, but by facts."--"It is clear that she can have nothing serious to advance," said the king, "but some mere idle pretext to delay her fate, as is the case with those who are in fear of their lives. Let her, however, speak, since Sisimithres would have it so."

Chariclea, who had always been sanguine, in expecting her deliverance, was now inspired with additional confidence when she heard the name of Sisimithres. He was the person to whose care she had been committed ten years before, and who delivered her to Charicles at Catadupa, when he was sent ambassador to Oroondates in the matter of the emerald mines--he was then one of the ordinary Gymnosophists: but now, he was their president. Chariclea did not call to mind his face (having been parted from him when only seven years' old), but recollected and rejoiced at hearing his name, trusting that she should find in him a support and an advocate. Stretching out then her hands towards heaven, and speaking audibly,--"O Sun!" she exclaimed, "author of my family; and you, ye gods and heroes who adorn my race! I call you to witness the truth of what I say. Be you my supporters and assistants in the trial which I am about to undergo--my cause is just, and thus I enter upon it:--Does the law, Ο king, command you to sacrifice natives or foreigners?"

"Foreigners only," replied Hydaspes.--"You must then seek another victim," said she, "for you will find me a native." The king seemed surprised, declaring it to be a figment. "Do you wonder at this?" said she; "you will hear much stranger things. I am not only a native, but closely allied to the royal family." This assertion was received with contempt, as so much idle speech: when she added--"Cease, my father, to despise and reject your daughter!"

By this time the king began to appear not only contemptuous, but indignant, taking the matter as a personal insult to himself. He said, therefore, to Sisimithres,--"Behold the reward of my endurance! Is not the maiden downright mad! Endeavouring with wild and incredible fictions to escape the fate awaiting her! desperately feigning herself to be my daughter, as in some sudden appearance and discovery upon the stage--mine, who was never so fortunate as to have any offspring. Once, indeed, I heard of a daughter's birth, only, however, to learn her death. Let then some one lead her away, that the sacrifice may be no longer deferred."--"No one shall lead me away," cried out Chariclea, "till the judges have given sentence. You are in this affair a party, not a judge; the law perhaps permits you to sacrifice foreigners, but to sacrifice your children, neither law nor nature allows; and the gods shall this day declare you to be my father, however unwilling you appear to own me. Every cause, Ο king, which comes for judgment, leans principally upon two kinds of proof, written evidence, and that of living witnesses: both these will I bring forward to prove myself your child. I shall appeal to no common witness, but to my judge himself (the consciousness of the judge is the prisoner's best ground of confidence); as to my written evidence it shall be a history of my own and your misfortunes." So saying, she loosened from her waist the fillet[9] which had been exposed with her, unrolled, and presented it to Persina. She, as soon as it met her sight, appeared struck dumb with astonishment; she continued a considerable time casting her eyes first on the writing, then again on the maiden. A cold sweat bedewed her limbs, and convulsive tremblings shook her frame.

Her first emotions were those of joy and hope; but anxiety and doubt succeeded. Dread of the suspicions of Hydaspes followed; of his incredulity, and perhaps of his anger and vengeance.

The king observing her agitation and astonishment, said to her, "Persina! what is it which ails you? from what cause has this writing such effect upon you?"--"My king, my lord, and my husband!" she replied, "I know not what to answer you: take and read it yourself: let this fillet explain everything." She gave it him, and remained trembling, in anxious silence.

He took the fillet, and began to read it, calling to the Gymnosophists to read it with him. As he proceeded, he was struck with doubt and amazement; but Sisimithres was still more astonished: his ever-changing colour betrayed the various emotions of his mind: he fixed his eyes now on the fillet, and now on Chariclea.

At length Hydaspes, when he came to the account of the exposing of the infant, and the cause of it, broke silence, and said, "I know that I had once a daughter born to me, having been told that it died almost as soon as it was born. This writing now informs me that it was exposed: but who took it up, who preserved, who educated it? who brought it into Egypt? Was that person, whoever he were, taken captive at the same time with her? How shall I be satisfied that this is the real child that was exposed? May she not have perished? May not these tokens have fallen into the hands of some one, who takes advantage of this chance? May not some evil genius be paltering with my desire of offspring, and clothed with the person of this maiden, be endeavouring to pass off a supposititious birth as my successor,--overshadowing the truth with this fillet, as with a cloud?"

But now Sisimithres replied, "I can clear up some of your doubts; for I am the person who took her up, who educated and carried her into Egypt, when you sent me thither on an embassy. You know me too well to suspect me of asserting what is untrue. I perfectly recollect the fillet, which is inscribed with the royal characters of the kings of Ethiopia, which you cannot suspect to have been counterfeited elsewhere; for you yourself must recognize the handwriting of Persina. But there were other tokens exposed with her, which I delivered at the same time to him who received the damsel from me, who was a Grecian, and, in appearance, an honest and worthy man."

"I have preserved them likewise," said Chariclea, and immediately shewed the necklace and the bracelet. Persina was yet more affected when she saw these.

Hydaspes still inquiring what all this agitation could mean, and whether she had anything to discover which might throw light upon this matter; she answered, "that she certainly had, but it was an examination more proper to be made in private than in public."

Hydaspes was more than ever perplexed, and Chariclea proceeded--"These are the tokens of my mother; but this ring is a present of your own;" and produced the stone Pantarbè.

The king instantly recollected it as a present which he had made to his wife during the time of their betrothment; and he said, "Maiden, these tokens were certainly mine; but how does it appear that you possess them as my child, and have not obtained them by some other means? Besides, in addition to my other doubts, your complexion is totally different from that of an Ethiopian."

Here Sisimithres interposed, and said, "The child whom I took up was perfectly white: and farther, the time when I found her seems very closely to coincide with the age of the maiden, for it is just seventeen years since this happened. The colour of her eyes too occurred to me as being the same; in short, I recognize in her the general expression of her features, and in her surpassing beauty a resemblance with what I recollect of the child then exposed."

"This is all very well," replied Hydaspes, "you speak with the fervour of the advocate more than as the judge; but take care lest while you are clearing up one doubt, you do not raise another, and that a more serious one; throwing suspicions upon the virtue of my consort; as we are both Ethiopians, how could we for our offspring have a white child?"

Sisimithres, with rather a sarcastic smile, replied, "I know not why you should object to me, that I am an advocate for this maiden. He is the best judge who inclines to the side of right: may I not rather be called an advocate for you, while I am endeavouring, with the assistance of the gods, to establish your right to be called a father; and neglecting no means to restore to you, in the bloom of her youth, that daughter whom I preserved in swathing bands? However, deem of me as you please, I do not esteem it necessary to make any apology; we do not shape our lives so as to please others: we endeavour to follow the dictates of truth and virtue, and think it sufficient if we can approve our conduct to ourselves: yet, as to the doubt which you entertain concerning her complexion, the writing clears this up, explaining how Persina, from her contemplation of Andromeda, might have received an impression upon her mind agreeing with the subject of the picture. If you wish for farther proof, the original is at hand; examine the Andromeda, the likeness between the picture and the maiden will be found unmistakeably exact."

The king complied: and had the picture brought; when being placed near Chariclea, an instant cry of surprise, admiration, and joy, was raised throughout the assembly, at the striking likeness; those who were near enough to understand what was passing, spreading the intelligence among the rest.

Hydaspes could no longer doubt, and he stood for some time motionless, between wonder and pleasure. But Sisimithres added, "One thing is still necessary to complete the proof; for recollect the succession to the kingdom, and the truth itself is now in question. Bare your arm, my child; there was a black mark upon it, a little above the elbow. There is nothing unseemly in doing this, in order to establish the evidence of your birth and family." Chariclea obeyed, and uncovered her left arm, when there appeared, as it were, an ebon ring, staining the ivory[10] of her arm.

But Persina could now no longer contain herself--she leapt from her throne, burst into tears, rushed into her daughter's embrace, and could express her transports only by an inarticulate murmur. For excess of joy will sometimes beget grief. They had nearly fainted and fallen on the ground.

Hydaspes felt for his consort, affected as she was, and a kindred emotion was gaining possession of himself; yet he gazed upon the spectacle with eyes as unmoved[11] as though they were of iron, struggling against his tears, his mind contending between fatherly feeling and manly fortitude, and tossed to and fro as by opposing tides. At last he was overpowered by all conquering nature; he not only believed himself to be a father, but was sensible of a father's feelings. Raising Persina, he was seen to embrace his daughter, pouring over her the paternal libation of his tears.

He was not, however, driven from that propriety which the circumstances demanded. Recollecting himself a little, and observing the multitude equally affected, shedding tears of pleasure and compassion at the wonderful events which had taken place, and not heeding the voices of the heralds, who were enjoining silence, he waved his hand, and stilling the tumult, thus addressed them:--"You see me, by the favour of the gods, and beyond all my expectations, entitled at length to the name of a father. This maiden is shewn to be my daughter by proofs which are infallible: but[12] my love for you, and for my country, is so great, that disregarding the continuance of my race, and the succession to my throne, and the new and dear appellation which I have just acquired, I am ready to sacrifice her to the gods for your advantage. I see you weep; I see you moved by the feelings of humanity; you pity the age of this maiden, immature for death; you pity my vainly cherished hope of a successor, yet even against your wills, I must obey the customs of my country, and prefer the public weal to any private feelings of my own. Whether it be the will of the gods just to shew me a daughter, and then take her away again (shewing her to me at her birth, taking her away now that she is found),[13] I leave you to judge: I am unable to determine. As little can I decide whether they will permit her to be sacrificed, when, after driving her from her native land to the extremest ends of the earth, they have, as by a miracle, brought her back again a captive; but if it be expedient that I sacrifice her whom I slew not as an enemy, nor injured as a prisoner, at the instant when she is recognized to be my daughter I will not hesitate, nor yield to affections which might be pardonable in any other father. I will not falter nor implore your compassion to acquit me of obedience to the law, out of regard to the feelings of nature and affection, nor even suggest that it is possible the deity may be appeased and satisfied by another victim; but as I see you sympathize with me, and feel my misfortunes as your own, even so much more does it become me to prefer your good to every other consideration, little regarding this sore grief, little regarding the distress of my poor Queen, made a mother and at the same moment rendered childless. Dry then your tears, repress your ineffectual grief for ever, and prepare for this necessary sacrifice: and, thou, my daughter! (now first and now last do I address thee by this longed-for name,) beauty is to no purpose, and in vain discovered to thy parents! thou who hast found thy native land more cruel than any foreign region! who hast found a strange land thy preserver, but wilt find thy native country thy destroyer! do not thou break my heart, by mournful tears; if ever thou hast shewed a high and royal spirit, shew it now. Follow thy father, who is unable to adorn thee as a bride; who leads thee to no nuptial chamber; but who decks thee for a sacrifice; who kindles, not torch of marriage, but the altar torch, and now offers as a victim this thine unrivalled loveliness. Do you too, Ο ye gods! be propitious, even if anything unbecoming or disrespectful has escaped me, overcome as I am, by grief, at calling this maiden daughter, and at the same time being her destroyer!" So saying, he made a show of leading Chariclea to the pyre, with palpitating heart, and deprecating the success of the speech, which he had made in order to steal away the people's wills.

The whole multitude was strongly excited by these words--they would not suffer her to be led a step towards the altar; but loudly and with one voice cried out---"Save the maiden! Preserve the royal blood! Deliver her whom the gods evidently protect! We are satisfied; the custom has been sufficiently complied with. We acknowledge thee our king: do thou acknowledge thyself a father; may the gods pardon the seeming disobedience; we shall be much more disobedient by thwarting their will; let no one slay her who has been preserved by them. Thou who art the father of thy country, be also the father of thy family!" These, and a thousand such like exclamations, were heard from every side. At length they prepared to prevent by force the sacrifice of Chariclea, and demanded steadily that the other victims alone should be offered to the gods.

Gladly and readily did Hydaspes suffer himself to be persuaded, and to submit to this seeming violence: he heard with pleasure the cries and congratulations of the assembly, and allowed them the indulgence of their wills, waiting till the tumult should spontaneously subside.

Finding himself near Chariclea, he said:--"My dear daughter (for the tokens you have produced, the wise Sisimithres, and the benevolence of the gods declare you to be such), who is this stranger who was taken with you, and is now led out to be sacrificed? How came you to call him your brother, when you were first brought into my presence at Syene? He is not likely to be found my son, for Persina had only one child, yourself."

Chariclea, casting her eyes on the ground, blushed, and said:--"He is not, I confess, my brother: necessity extorted that fiction from me. Who he is, he will better explain than I can."

Hydaspes not readily comprehending what she meant, replied:--"Forgive me, my child, if I have asked a question concerning this young man which it seems to hurt your maiden modesty to answer. Go into the tent to your mother, cause her more rejoicing now, than you caused her pain when she gave you birth; add to her present enjoyment, by relating every particular about yourself. Meanwhile, we will proceed with the sacrifice, selecting, if possible, a victim worthy to be offered with this youth instead of you."

Chariclea was nearly shrieking at mention of sacrificing the young man; hardly could she for ultimate advantage, check her frenzied feelings, so as to wind her way covertly towards the end she had in view. "Sire," said she, "perhaps there needs not to seek out another maiden, since the people remitted in my person the sacrifice of any female victim? But if they insist that a pair of either sex should be sacrified, see if it be not necessary for you to find out another youth, as well as another maiden; or, if that be not done, whether I must not still be offered."

"The gods forbid!" replied Hydaspes; "but why should you say this?"

"Because," said she, "the gods have decreed that he is to live with me, or die with me."

"I commend your humanity," replied the king, "in that having so hardly escaped yourself, you are desirous of saving a foreigner, a Greek, a fellow-prisoner, and of the same age, with whom, from a communion in misfortunes, you must have contracted some degree of familiarity and friendship: but he cannot be exempted from the sacrifice; religion will not permit our country's custom to be in everything curtailed, neither would the people suffer it, who have with difficulty been persuaded by the goodness of the deities to spare you."

"Ο king!" said Chariclea, "for perhaps I may not presume to call you father, since the mercy of the gods has saved my body, let me implore their and your clemency to preserve my soul:[14] they know with how much justice I call him so, since they have so closely interwoven the web of my destiny with his. But if his fate is irretrievably determined; as if a foreigner he must necessarily suffer, I ask only one favour---Let me with my own hand perform the sacrifice; let me grasp the sword--even like a precious treasure--and signalize my fortitude before the Ethiopians."

Hydaspes was astonished and confounded at this strange request. "I know not what to make," said he, "of this sudden change in your disposition: but a moment ago you were anxious to save this stranger, and now you desire permission to destroy him as an enemy with your own hands; but there is nothing either honourable or becoming your sex or age in such a deed: granting that there were, it is impossible; it is an office exclusively belonging to the priests and priestesses of the Sun and Moon, the one must be a husband; the other is required to be a wife; so that even the fact of your virginity would be sufficient to preclude this unaccountable request."

"There need be no obstacle here," rejoined Chariclea, blushing, and whispering her mother, she said, "give but your consent and I already have one who answers to the name of husband."--"We will consent," replied Persina, smiling, "and will bestow your hand at once, if we can find a match worthy of yourself and us."--"Then," said Chariclea, raising her voice, "your search need not be long, it is already found."

She was proceeding (for the imminent danger of Theagenes made her bold, and caused her to break through the restraints of maiden modesty), when Hydaspes, becoming impatient, said--"How do ye, Ο gods, mingle blessings and misfortunes! and mar the happiness ye have bestowed upon me! ye restore, beyond all my hopes, a daughter, but ye restore her frenzy-stricken! for is not her mind frenzied when she utters such inconsistencies? She first calls this stranger her brother, who is no such thing; next, when asked who the stranger is, she says she knows not; then she is very anxious to preserve him, as a friend, from suffering; and, failing in this, appears desirous of sacrificing him with her own hands; and when we tell her that none but one who is wedded can lawfully perform this office, then she declares herself a wife but does not name her husband. How can she indeed? She whom the altar proves never to have had a husband; unless the unfailing ordeal of chastity among the Ethiopians has, in her case only, proved fallacious, dismissing her unscathed, and bestowing upon her the spurious reputation of virginity; upon her, who with one breath calls the same person her friend and enemy, and invents a brother and a husband who have no existence? Do you, then, my Queen, retire into your tent, and endeavour to recall this maiden to her senses: for either she is frenzied by the deity, who is approaching the sacrifices, or else she is distraught through her unexpected preservation. I will have search made for the victim, due to the gods, as an offering in her stead; meanwhile I will give audience to the ambassadors of the different nations, and will receive the presents brought in congratulation of my victory." So saying, he seated himself in a conspicuous place near the tent, and commanded the ambassadors to be introduced, and to bring what gifts they had to offer.

Harmonias, the lord in waiting,[15] inquired whether they should all approach without distinction, or a few selected from every nation; or whether he should introduce each separately.

"Let them come separately in turn," said the king, "that each may be questioned according to his deserts."

"Your nephew, then, Merœbus," said Harmonias, "must first appear; he is just arrived, and is waiting outside the troops for his introduction."

"You silly, stupid fellow," replied Hydaspes, "why did you not announce him instantly? Do you not know that he is not a mere ambassador, but a king, the son of my own brother (not long deceased), placed by me on his father's throne, and adopted by me as my own son?"

"I was aware of it, my lord," replied Harmonias; "but I considered that the duty of a lord in waiting required him above all things, to observe a proper time and season. Pardon me, therefore, if when I saw you speaking with the royal ladies, I felt averse to drawing your attention from matters of such delight."

"Let him enter now, then," replied the king. The master of the ceremonies hastened out, and soon returned with him.

Merœbus was a handsome youth, just past the season of boyhood, his age being about seventeen; but he exceeded in stature almost all those who surrounded him, and his suite was splendid and numerous. The Ethiopian guards opened on either side to let him pass, and regarded him with wonder and respect.

Hydaspes himself rose from his throne to meet him, embraced him with fatherly affection, placed him by his side, and taking him by the hand said, "Nephew, you are come very seasonably both to assist at a triumphal sacrifice, and a nuptial ceremony; for the gods, the authors and protectors of our family, have restored to me a daughter, and provided, as it seems, for you a wife. The particulars you shall hear hereafter; at present if you have any business relating to the nation which you govern, make me acquainted with it."

The youth,[16] at the mention of a wife, was seen to blush through his dark complexion from mingled pleasure and modesty (the red rushing, as it were, to the surface of the black). After an interval he said, "The other ambassadors, my Father, in honour of your splendid victory, bring you the choicest productions of their several countries: I, as a suitable compliment to a brave and first-rate warrior, make you an offering after your own heart, a champion who is invincible; not to be matched either in wrestling, or boxing, or in the race;" and so, saying, he motioned to the man alluded to, to advance.

He came forward and made his adoration to Hydaspes. So vast and "old world[17]" was his stature, that when kissing the king's knees, his head nearly equalled those who sat on raised seats above him; and, without waiting for any orders, he stripped and challenged any one to engage with him, either with skill of arms, or with strength of hands. And when, after many proclamations made, no antagonist appeared to oppose him--"You shall have," said Hydaspes, "a reward quite in character;" and he ordered an old and very bulky elephant to be brought out and given to him.

The man was pleased with, and vain of the present; but the people burst into a shout of laughter; delighted at the humour of the king; consoling themselves by their derision of his boastfulness, for the inferiority which they had virtually expressed.

The ambassadors of the Seres came next. They brought spun and woven garments, both white and purple; the materials of which were the produce of an insect,[18] which is bred in their country. These gifts being accepted, they begged and obtained the release of certain prisoners who had been condemned.

After them, the envoys from Arabia the Happy approached. They presented many talents worth of fragrant leaves, lavender, cinnamon, and other productions, with which that land of perfume abounds; all which filled the air around with an agreeable odour.

Then appeared the Troglodites. They brought gold dust (which is turned up by the ant-eater[19]), also a pair of hippogriffs guided by golden reins.

The ambassadors of the Blemmyæ offered bows and arrows, formed of serpents' bones, and disposed into the form of a crown.

"These our presents," said they, "in value fall far behind those of others; nevertheless, they did good service against the Persians, at the river, as you yourself can testify."

"They are of more value," said Hydaspes, "than other costly gifts, and are the cause of my now receiving other presents;"--at the same time he bid them declare their wishes. They requested some diminution of their tributes, and obtained a full remission of them for ten years. When almost all the ambassadors had been admitted, and had been presented, some with rewards equal to their gifts, others with such as were far greater, at last the ambassadors of the Axiomitæ appeared. These were not tributaries, but allies: they came to express their satisfaction at the king's success, and brought with them their presents; and among the rest there was an animal of a very uncommon and wonderful kind: his size approached to that of a camel! his skin was marked over with florid spots: his hind-quarters were low and lionshaped: but his fore legs, his shoulders, and breast, were far higher in proportion than his other parts; his neck was slender, towering up from his large body into a swanlike throat, and his head, like that of a camel, was about twice as large as that of a Lybian ostrich; his eyes were very bright and rolled with a fierce expression; his manner of moving was different from that of every other land or water animal; he did not use his legs alternately, one on each side at once, but moved both those on the right together, and then, in like manner, both those on the left; one side at a time being raised before the other; and yet so docile in movement and gentle in disposition was he, that his keeper led him by a thin cord fastened round his neck; his master's will having over him the influence of an irresistible chain. At the appearance of this animal the multitude were astonished; and extemporising his name[20] from the principal features in his figure, they called him a camelopard.[21] He was, however, the occasion of no small confusion in the assembly. There happened to stand near the altar of the Moon a pair of bulls, and by that of the Sun four white horses, prepared for sacrifice. At the sudden sight of this strange outlandish beast, seen for the first time, terrified as if they had beheld some phantom, one of the bulls, and two of the horses, bursting from the ropes of those who held them, galloped wildly away. They were unable to break through the circle of the soldiery, fortified as it was with a wall of locked shields; but running in wild disorder through the middle space, they overturned vessels and victims--everything, in short, that came in their way; so that mingled cries arose, some of fear in those towards whom the animals were making; some of mirth for the accidents which happened to others whom they saw fallen and trampled upon. Persina and her daughter, upon this, could not remain quiet in their tent; but gently drawing aside the curtain they became spectators of what was done.

But now Theagenes, whether excited by his own courageous spirit, or by the inspiration of the gods, observing the keepers who were placed around him dispersed in the tumult, rose from his knees, in which which posture he had placed himself before the altar, awaiting his approaching sacrifice; and seizing a piece of cleft wood, many of which lay prepared for the ceremony, he leaped upon one of the horses who had not burst his bands; and grasping the mane with one hand, and using it for a bridle, with his heel (as with a spur) and the billet he urged on the courser, and pursued, on full speed, one of the flying bulls.

At first, those present supposed it an attempt of Theagenes to escape in the confusion, and called out not to let him pass the ring of soldiers; but they soon had reason to be convinced that it was not the effect of fear or dread of being sacrificed. He quickly overtook the bull and followed him for some time close behind, fatiguing him, and urging on his course, pursuing him in all his doublings, and if he endeavoured to turn and make at him, avoiding him with wonderful dexterity. When he had made the animal a little familiar with his presence and his movements, he galloped up close by his side, actually touching him, mingling the breath and sweat of both animals, and so equalizing their courses, that they who were at a distance might imagine their heads had grown together. Every one extolled Theagenes who had found means to join together this strange hippotaurine pair.[22] While the multitude was intent upon, and diverted with this spectacle, Chariclea was agitated, and trembled. She knew not what was the object of Theagenes; should he fall and be wounded it would be death to her; her emotion, in short, was such that it could not escape the observation of Persina.

"My child," said she, "what is the matter with you? You seem very anxious about this stranger. I feel some concern for him myself, and pity his youth. I hope he will escape the danger to which he has exposed himself, and be preserved for the sacrifice; lest all the honours which we meant to pay the gods, should be found failing and deficient."

"Yours is strange compassion," replied Chariclea, "to wish that he may avoid one death, in order that he may suffer a worse. But if it be possible, Ο my mother! save this young man for my sake."

Persina not understanding the real case, but suspecting that love had some share in it, said, "This is impossible; but let me know the nature of your connection with this youth, in whom you seem to take so great an interest. Open your mind with freedom and confidence, and recollect that you are speaking to a mother. Even if giving way to any youthful weakness, you have felt more for this stranger than perhaps a maiden ought to own, a parent knows how to excuse the failings of a daughter; and a woman can throw a cloak over the frailties of her sex."

"This too is my additional misfortune," replied Chariclea; "I am speaking[23] to those of understanding, yet I am not understood. While speaking of my own misfortunes, I am not supposed to speak of them. I must enter then upon a 'plain unvarnished' accusation of myself." She was preparing to declare everything which related to her situation and connections, when she was interrupted by a sudden and loud shout from the multitude; for Theagenes, after urging his horse at its swiftest speed and getting even with the bull's head, suddenly leaping from the animal (which he allowed to run loose) threw himself on the bull's neck. He placed his face between his horns, closely embraced his forehead with his arms (as with a chaplet), clasped his fingers in front, and letting his body fall on the beast's right shoulder, sustained his bounds, and shocks with little hurt. When he perceived him to be fatigued with his weight, and that his muscles began to be relaxed and yield, just as he passed by the place where Hydaspes sat, he shifted his body to the front, entangled his legs with those of the bull, continuously kicking him and hindering his progress. The beast being thus impeded, and borne down at the same time by the weight and force of the youth, trips and tumbles upon his head, rolls upon his back, and there lies supine, his horns deeply imbedded in the ground, and his legs quivering in the air, testifying to his defeat. Theagenes kept him down with his left hand, and waved his right towards Hydaspes and the multitude, inviting them, with a smiling and cheerful countenance, to take part in his rejoicing, while the bellowings of the bull served instead of a trumpet to celebrate his triumph. The applause of the multitude was expressed not so much by articulate words, as by a shout, giving open-mouthed token of their wonderment, and with its sounds extolling him to the very skies. By order of Hydaspes, Theagenes was brought before him, and the bull, by a rope tied over his horns, was led back weak and dispirited towards the altar, where they again fastened him, together with the horse which had escaped. The king was preparing to speak to Theagenes, when the multitude, interested in him from the first, and now delighted with this instance of his strength and courage, but still more moved with jealousy towards the foreign wrestler, called out with one voice--"Let him be matched with Marœbus's champion. Let him who has received the elephant contend, if he dare, with him who has subdued the bull." They pressed and insisted on this so long, till at length they extorted the consent of Hydaspes. The fellow was called out: he advanced, casting around fierce and contemptuous looks, stepping haughtily, dilating his chest, and swinging his arms with insolent defiance.[24] When he came near the royal tent, Hydaspes looking at Theagenes, said to him in Greek--"The people are desirous that you should engage with this man, you must therefore do so."

"Be it as they please," replied Theagenes. "But what is to be the nature of the contest?"--"Wrestling," said the king.--"Why not with swords, and in armour?" returned the other, "that either by my fall or by my victory I may satisfy Chariclea, who persists in concealing everything which relates to our connection, or perhaps at last has cast me off."

"Why you thus bring in the name of Chariclea," replied Hydaspes, "you best know; but you must wrestle, and not fight with swords, for no blood must be shed on this day, but at the altar." Theagenes perceived the king's apprehension lest he should fall before the sacrifice, and said, "You do well, Ο king, to reserve me for the gods; they too, you may be assured, will watch over my preservation." So saying, taking up a handful of dust, he sprinkled it over his limbs, already dripping with sweat, from his exertions in pursuit of the bull. He shook off all which did not adhere; and stretching out his arms, planting his feet firmly, bending his knees a little, rounding his back and shoulders, throwing back his neck, and contracting all his muscles, he stood anxiously waiting the gripe of his antagonist. The Ethiopian seeing him, grimly smiled, and by his contemptuous gestures seemed to slight his adversary.

Making a rush he let fall his arm, like some mighty bar, upon the neck of Theagenes--at the echo which it made the braggart laughed exultingly. Theagenes, trained in the wrestling-school tricks from his youth, and familiar with all the tricks of the Mercurial art,[25] determined to give ground at first, and having made trial of his adversary, not to stand up against such tremendous weight and savage ferocity, but to elude his undisciplined strength by skill and subtlety. Staggering back, then, a little from his place he affected to suffer more than he really did, and exposed the other side of his neck to his opponent's blow; and when the African planted another hit in that quarter, purposely giving way, he pretended almost to be falling upon his face. But when waxing stronger in contempt and confidence, his antagonist was now a third time, unguardedly rushing on, and about to let fall his upraised arm, Theagenes got within his guard, eluding his blow by a sudden twist, and with his right elbow struck up the other's left arm, and dashed him to the earth, already impelled downwards by the sway of his own missed blow; then slipping his hand under his armpits, he got upon his back, and with difficulty spanning his brawny waist, incessantly kicked his feet and ancles, and compelled him to rise upon his knees, strode over him, pressed him in the groin with his legs, struck from under him the support of his hands, and twining his arms about his temples, dragged his head back upon his shoulders, and so stretched him with his belly on the ground.[26]

An universal shout of applause, greater than before, now burst from the multitude; nor could the king contain himself, but springing from his throne--"Ο hateful necessity," he cried, "what a hero of a man are we compelled to sacrifice!" and calling him to him he said, "Young man, it now remains for you to be crowned for the altar, according to our custom. You have deserved a crown too for your glorious but useless victory, and transitory triumph; and though it be out of my power, however willing I may be, to preserve your life, whatever I can do for you I will. If therefore there is any thing you wish to have done, either before or after your death, ask it freely." So saying he took a crown of gold, set with precious stones, and put it on his head; and, while he placed it there, was seen to shed tears.

"I have but one thing to ask," said Theagenes, "and this I earnestly beseech you that I may obtain. If it be impossible for me to avoid being sacrificed, grant that I may suffer by the hands of this your newly recovered daughter."

Hydaspes was annoyed at this reply, and called to mind the conformity of this request to that made just before by Chariclea; but, as the time pressed, he did not think it necessary to inquire particularly into the reasons of it, and only said, "Whatever is possible, Stranger! I encouraged you to ask, and promised that you should obtain; but she, who performs the sacrifice the law distinctly declares, must be one who has a husband, not a maiden."

"Chariclea has a husband," said Theagenes.--"These are the words," replied Hydaspes, "of one who trifles and is about to die. The altar has declared her unmarried and a virgin--unless indeed you call this Merœbus her husband (having somehow heard the rumour); he however is not yet her husband--he is yet in accordance with my will, only her intended."

"Nor will he ever be her husband," said Theagenes, "if I know aught of Chariclea's sentiments; and, if being a victim, credit is due to me as inspired by prophecy."--"But, fair Sir," said Merœbus, "it is not living but slaughtered victims which afford knowledge to the Seers. You are right, Sire, in saying that the stranger talks folly, and like one just about to die. Command, therefore, that he be led to the altar; and when you shall have finished all your business, begin the rites, I pray you."

Theagenes was being led away; and Chariclea, who had breathed again when he was victorious, was once more plunged into grief, when she saw it had profited him nothing. Persina observed her tears, and feeling for her affliction, said--"It is possible I may yet have power to save this Grecian, if you will explain more clearly all the particulars relating to yourself."

Chariclea, who saw that there was not a moment to be lost, was a second time preparing to own everything; when Hydaspes inquiring from the lord in waiting whether any ambassadors remained who had not had audience, was told only those from Syene, who were that instant arrived, with letters from Oroondates, and presents. "Let them too approach, and execute their commission," said the monarch. They were introduced, and delivered letters to this effect:--

"Oroondates, Viceroy of the Great King, to Hydaspes, the king of Ethiopia.

"Since conqueror in fight, you are yet more conqueror in magnanimity, in restoring to me a viceroyalty unasked, I have little doubt that I shall obtain a slight request. A young maiden who was being conducted from Memphis to my camp, became involved in the perils of war, and as I am informed, was sent by you into Ethiopia. This I have learnt from those who were with her and who escaped: I beg she may be sent to me, both on account of the maiden herself, as well as for her father's sake, who, after having wandered over half the globe, in search of his daughter, came at last to Elephantine, and was taken prisoner by the garrison. When reviewing those of my soldiers who survived, I saw him and he earnestly desired to be sent to your clemency. He is among the ambassadors, his manners and bearing show him to be of noble birth, and his very countenance and looks speak strongly in his favour. Dismiss him then, Ο king, I beseech you, happy and contented from your presence. Send back to me one who is a father not merely in name but in reality."

Hydaspes, having read the letter, inquired who it was, who was come in quest of his daughter. When he was pointed out to him, he said, "I am ready, stranger, to do every thing which Oroondates requests of me. Out of the ten captive maidens whom we have brought hither, one assuredly is not your daughter; examine the rest, and if she be found among them take her."

The old man, falling down, kissed his feet. The maidens were brought, and passed in review before him; but when he saw not her whom he sought, he said sorrowfully--"None of these, Ο king, is my daughter."--"You have my good will in your behalf," replied Hydaspes. "You must blame Fortune if you have not discovered your child. It is in your power to search, if you will, through the camp; and to ascertain that none else has been brought hither besides these."

The old man smote his forehead, and wept; and, then after raising his eyes, and looking round him, he suddenly sprang forward, like one distracted; and upon coming to the altar, he twisted the end of his long robe into the form of a halter, threw it over the neck of Theagenes, and pulled him towards him, crying out--"I have found you, my enemy! I have found you, man of blood, detested wretch!"--The guards interposed, and endeavoured to resist and pull him away, but keeping a firm hold and clinging closely to him, he succeeded in bringing him before Hydaspes and the council.

"This, Ο king," said he, "is the man who stole away my daughter. This is he who has rendered my house childless and desolate; who, after ravishing away my daughter from the midst of Apollo's altar, now sits as though he were holy beside the altars of the gods."

The assembly was thrown into commotion at what was taking place. They did not understand what he said, but wondered at what they saw him do; and Hydaspes commanded him to explain himself more plainly, and say what he would have; when the old man (it was Charicles), concealing the true circumstances of the birth and exposure of Chariclea, lest, if she should have perished in her flight or journey, he might come into some collision with her real parents, explained briefly such matters as could produce ηo ill results.

"I had a daughter, Ο king! and had you seen her various and uncommon perfections, both of mind and person, you would say I have good cause for speaking as I do. She lived the life of a virgin, a priestess of Diana, in the temple at Delphi. This noble Thessalian, forsooth, who was sent by his country to preside over a solemn embassy and sacrifice to be celebrated in our holy city, stole her away from the very shrine, I say, of Apollo.

"Justly may he be considered to have insulted you by profaning your national deity Apollo and his temple, Apollo being identical with the Sun. His assistant in this impious outrage was a pretended priest of Memphis. In my pursuit, I came to Thessaly; and the Thessalians offered to give him up should he be found as one accursed and deserving death. Thinking it probable that Calasiris might have chosen Memphis as a place of refuge, I hastened thither. Calasiris, I found, was dead; but I learnt all particulars concerning my daughter from his son Thyamis, who told me that she had been sent to Oroondates at Syene. After being disappointed at not finding the latter at Syene, and having been myself detained prisoner at Elephantis, I now appear before you as a suppliant, to seek my child. You will, then, deeply oblige me, a man of many griefs, and will also gratify your own self, by not disregarding the Viceroy's intercession." He ceased, and burst into tears.

The king asked Theagenes what reply he had to make to all this. "The whole charge," said he, "is true. To this man I have been a ravisher, unjust, and violent; but to you I have been a benefactor."--"Restore, then, another's daughter," said Hydaspes. "You have been dedicated to the gods; let your death be a holy and glorious sacrifice--not the just punishment of crime."

"Not he who committed the violence," said Theagenes; "but he who reaps the fruits of it, is bound to make restitution. Do you then restore Chariclea, for she is in your possession. The old man, you shall see, will own your daughter to be her whom he seeks."

None could repress their emotion: all were in confusion. But Sisimithres, who had hitherto kept silence, though long since understanding all that was being said and done, yet waiting till the circumstances should become yet clearer, now ran up and embraced Charicles. "Your adopted child," said he, "she whom I formerly delivered into your hands, is safe: she is, and has been acknowledged to be, the daughter of those whom you know."

Upon this Chariclea rushed out of the tent, and overlooking all restraints of sex or maidenly reserve, flung herself at the feet of Charicles, and cried out, "O my father! Ο not less revered than the authors of my birth, punish me, your cruel and ungrateful daughter, as you think fit, regardless of my only excuse, that what has been done was ordained by the irresistible will and appointment of the gods." Persina, on the other side, threw her arms round Hydaspes, and said, "My dear husband, be assured that all this is truth, and that this stranger Greek is her betrothed." The people, on the other hand, leaped and danced for joy; every age and condition were, without exception, delighted--not understanding, indeed, the greater part of what was said, but conjecturing the facts from what had taken place with Chariclea. Perhaps, too, they were brought to a comprehension of the truth by some secret influence of the deity, who had ordered all these events so dramatically, producing out of the greatest discords the most perfect harmony: joy out of grief; smiles from tears; out of a stern spectacle a gladsome feast; laughter from weeping; rejoicing out of mourning; the finding[27] of those who were not sought; the losing[28] of those who were in imagination found; in one word, a holy sacrifice out of an anticipated[29] slaughter.

At length Hydaspes said to Sisimithres, "Ο sage! what are we to do? To defraud the gods of their victims is not pious; to sacrifice those who appear to be preserved and restored by their providence is impious. It needs that some expedient be found out."

Sisimithres, speaking, not in the Grecian, but in the Ethiopian tongue, so as to be heard by the greatest part of the assembly, replied: "Ο king! the wisest among men, as it appears, often have the understanding clouded through excess of joy, else, before this time, you would have discovered that the gods regard not with favour the sacrifice which you have been preparing for them. First they, from the very altar, declared the all-blessed Chariclea to be your daughter; next they brought her foster-father most wonderfully from the midst of Greece to this spot; they struck panic and terror into the horses and oxen which were being prepared for sacrifice, indicating, perhaps, by that event, that those whom custom considered as the more perfect and fitting victims were to be rejected. Now, as the consummation of all good, as the perfection of the piece,[30] they show this Grecian youth to be the betrothed husband of the maiden. Let us give credence to these proofs of the divine and wonder-working will; let us be fellow workers with this will; let us have recourse to holier offerings; let us abolish, for ever, these detested human sacrifices."

When Sisimithres had uttered this, in a loud voice, Hydaspes, speaking also in the Ethiopian tongue, and taking Theagenes and Chariclea by the hand, thus proceeded:--

"Ye who are this day assembled! since these things have been thus brought to pass by the will of the deities, to oppose them would be impious. Wherefore, calling to witness those who have woven these events into the web of destiny, and you whose minds appear to be in concert with them, I sanction the joining together of this pair in wedlock and procreative union. If you approve, let a sacrifice confirm this resolution, and then proceed we with the sacred rites."

The assembly signified their approval by a shout, and clapped their hands, in token of the nuptials being ratified. Hydaspes approached the altar, and, in act to begin the ceremony, said, "Ο lordly Sun and queenly Moon! since by your wills Theagenes and Chariclea have been declared man and wife, they may now lawfully be your ministers." So saying, he took off his own and Persina's mitre, the symbol of the priesthood, and placed his own upon the head of the youth, that of his consort upon the maiden's head.

Upon this Charicles called to mind the oracle which had been given to them in the temple before their flight from Delphi, and acknowledged its fulfilment.

In regions torrid shall arrive at last, There shall the gods reward their pious vows, And snowy chaplets bind their dusky brows.[31]

The youthful pair then, crowned by Hydaspes with white mitres, and invested with the dignity of priesthood, sacrificed under propitious omens; and, accompanied by lighted torches and the sounds of pipes and flutes, Theagenes and Hydaspes, Charicles and Sisimithres, in chariots drawn by horses, Persina and Chariclea, in one drawn by milk white oxen, were escorted, into Meröe (amidst shouts, clapping of hands, and dances), there to celebrate with greater magnificence the more mystic portions of the nuptial rites.

Thus ends the Romance of the "Ethiopics," or Adventures of Theagenes and Chariclea, written by a Phœnician of Emesa, in Phœnicia, of the race of the Sun--Heliodorus, the son of Theodosius.

[Footnote 1: In. Bk. viii., 98, Herodotus gives an account of the Persian system of estafette--comparing it to the torch race:--"Kατάπερ Ἔλλησι ἡ λαμπαδηφορίη, τὴν τῷ Ἡφαίστῳ επιτέλεουσι." See also, Xen. Cyrop. viii. 6, 17.]

[Footnote 2: Solinus describes these fabulous creatures as "alites ferocissimæ et ultra omnem rabiem sævientes;" others speak of them as resembling an eagle in the upper part, a horse in the lower.--See Æsch. P. V., 395 and 803.]

[Footnote 3: See Blakesley's edit. of Herod. iii. 98: where mention is made of boats made of bamboo, used by the Indians, of which Pliny says, that the length of the boats, made of the internodal wood, often exceeded five cubits, and that they would hold three persons.]

[Footnote 4: Herod. i. 216, states the same concerning the Massagetæ, and assigns the same cause:--"Τῶν θεῶν τῴ ταχίστῳ πάντων τῶν θνητῶν τὸ τάχιστον δατέονται."]

[Footnote 5: Τὴν ἐσχάρα.]

[Footnote 6: Taλaντεύει καθ' ἡμας ἡ μοῖρα.]

[Footnote 7:

"Gratior et pulchro veniens in corpora virtus." Virg. Æn. v. 344. ]

[Footnote 8:

"Immunis aram si tetigit manus, Non sumptuosa blandior hostia Mollivit aversos penates Farre pio et saliente micâ." Hor. III. Od. xxiii. 17. ]

[Footnote 9: See Book IV.]

[Footnote 10: In the version printed in 1717 is a curious blunder in the word ἐλέφαντα--"a spot black as ebony, resembling an elephant."]

[Footnote 11: Tὸ ὄμμα δὲ οἱονεί κέρας ἥ σίδηρον εἰς τὰ ὁρώμενα τείνας.

... "ille--immota tenebat Lumina, et obnixus curam sub corde premebat."--Æn. iv. 331. ]

[Footnote 12: See the speech of Agamemnon, in the Iphigenia in Aulis, 1242.]

[Footnote 13:

"Ostendent terris hunc tantùm fata, neque ultrà Esse sinent."--Virg. Æn. vi. 870. ]

[Footnote 14: "Et serves animæ dimidium meæ."--Hor. I. Od. iii. 8.]

[Footnote 15: εἱσαγγιλεὺς. See Herod. III. 84.]

[Footnote 16: It would be unfair to deprive the reader of the very quaint rendering of this passage in the version of 1717: "Merœbus, young and bashful, and wonderfully tickled at the thoughts of a bride, blushed through his black skin, his face looking _like a ball of soot that had taken fire_."]

[Footnote 17: Οὔτως ὠγύγιος. See the description and bearing of Dares.--Virg. Æn. v. 368, 385.]

[Footnote 18: Τῶν παρ' αὐτοῖς ἀραχνιών--literally, of spiders, see Tatius, B. iii.]

[Footnote 19: In the original it is "ant-gold" χρυσόν μυρμηκιαν, turned up by the "myrmex," an animal between a dog and fox in size, supposed to be the ant-eater. See note vol. i. p. 378, of Blakesley's Herodotus. William Lisle, the poet, thus improves upon the "ant-gold:"--

"A yoke of gryphons chain'd with that fine gold Which emmots, nigh as big as Norfolke sheepe, At sand-hill side are said to gath'r and keepe."

The reader will of course remember Milton's allusion to the _gryphons_. Paradise Lost, B. ii. 945.]

[Footnote 20: αυτοσχεδίως κατηγορηθέν.]

[Footnote 21: This animal was among the number of those, in the destruction of which the Emperor Commodus exhibited his skill in the arena.--See Gibbon, i. 153, (_note_).]

[Footnote 22: Suetonius mentions an exploit similar to this of Theagenes, and performed by a Thessalian, as he was (Claud. cap. 21). "Præterea _Thessalos_ equites qui feros tauros per spatia circi agunt, insiliuntque defessos, et ad terram cornibus detrahunt." The above exploit was called ταυροκαθαίρια. It is represented in one of the Arundel marbles.]

[Footnote 23: Τοῖς συνετοῖς ἀσύνετα φθέγγομαι.]

[Footnote 24:

... "caput altum in prælia tollit, Ostenditque humeros latos, alternaque jactat, Brachia protendens, et verberat ictibus auras." Virg. Æn. v. 375. ]

[Footnote 25:

"Mercuri, facunde nepos Atlantis, Qui feros cultus hominum recentum Voce formasti catus, et _decoræ_." _More palestræ._--Hor. I. Od. X. 1-4. ]

[Footnote 26: A wood-cut, in some degree illustrative of this description, will be found at p. 708 of Greek and Roman Antiquities, under the article "Pancratium."]

[Footnote 27: By Hydaspes.]

[Footnote 28: By Charicles.]

[Footnote 29:

"Time and tide had thus their sway, Yielding, like an April day, Smiling noon for sullen morrow, Years of joy for hours of sorrow."--Scott. ]

[Footnote 30: Literally, the torch of the drama, Λαμπάδων δράματος.

"φαίνετε τοίνυν υμεῖς τούτῳ λαμπάδας ἱερὰς χάμα προπέμπετε τοῖσιν τούτου τοῦτον μέλεσιν καὶ μολπᾶσιν κελαδοῦντες."--Aristoph. Bat. 1493.

See similar allusions in the Eumenides of Æschylus, 959, 979. (Müller's Edit.)]

[Footnote 31: See Book II.]

THE END.

THE LOVES OF DAPHNIS AND CHLOE, A PASTORAL NOVEL, BY LONGUS.

MOTTO.

Ah! what a life were this! how sweet, how lovely! Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade To shepherds looking on their silly sheep, Than doth a rich embroidered canopy To kings, that fear their subjects' treachery? Oh yes it doth; a thousand-fold it doth. Shakspeare

PREFACE.

While hunting in Lesbos I saw in a grove, sacred to the Nymphs, the most beautiful sight which had ever come before my eyes--an historical painting,[1] which represented the incidents of a love-story. The grove itself was beautiful, abounding with trees and flowers, which received their nourishment from a single fountain. More delightful, however, than these was the painting, displaying, as it did, great skill, and representing the fortunes of Love. Because of the fame of this picture, many strangers resorted thither to pay their adorations to the Nymphs, and to view the painting. The subjects of it were women in the throes of child-birth; nurses wrapping the new-born babes in swathing clothes; infants exposed; animals of the flock giving them suck; shepherds carrying them away; young people pledging their mutual troth; an attack by pirates; an inroad by a hostile force.

As I viewed and admired these and many other things, all containing love allusions, I conceived the desire of writing an illustration of the piece, and having sought out a person to explain the various allusions, I at length completed four books,--an offering to the God of Love, to the Nymphs, and to Pan; a work, moreover, which will be acceptable to every one, for it will remedy disease, it will solace grief, it will refresh the memory of him who has once loved, it will instruct him who is as yet ignorant of love. No one, assuredly, has ever escaped, or will escape, the influence of this passion, so long as beauty remains to be seen, and eyes exist to behold it.

May the Deity grant me, undisturbed myself, to describe the emotions of others![2]

[Footnote 1: Compare the description of the picture representing the story of Europa, in Achilleus Tatius.--B. i., and those of Andromeda and Prometheus in B. ii.]

[Footnote 2:

"Suave etiam belli certamina magna tueri Per campos instructa, _tuâ_ sine parte pericli." Lucret. 11, 5. ]

THE LOVES OF DAPHNIS AND CHLOE.

In the island of Lesbos there is an extensive city called Mitylene, the appearance of which is beautiful; the sea intersects it by various canals, and it is adorned with bridges of polished white stone. You might imagine you beheld an island rather than a city.

About twenty-four miles from Mitylene, were the possessions of a rich man, which formed a very fine estate. The mountains abounded with game, the fields produced corn, the hills were thick with vines, the pastures with herds, and the sea-washed shore consisted of an extent of smooth sand.

As Lamon, a goatherd, was tending his herds upon the estate, he found a child suckled by a she-goat. The place where it was lying was an oak coppice and tangled thicket, with ivy winding about it, and soft grass beneath; thither the goat continually ran and disappeared from sight, leaving her own kid in order to remain near the child. Lamon watched her movements, being grieved to see the kid neglected, and one day when the sun was burning in his meridian heat he follows her steps and sees her standing over the infant with the utmost caution, lest her hoofs might injure it, while the child sucked copious draughts of her milk as if from its mother's breast. Struck with natural astonishment, he advances close to the spot and discovers a lusty and handsome male-child, with far richer swathing clothes than suited its fortune in being thus exposed; for its little mantle was of fine purple, and fastened by a golden clasp, and it had a little sword with a hilt of ivory.

At first Lamon resolved to leave the infant to its fate, and to carry off only the tokens; but feeling afterwards ashamed at the reflection, that in doing so, he should be inferior in humanity, even to a goat, he waited for the approach of night, and then carried home the infant with the tokens, and the she-goat herself to Myrtale his wife.

Myrtale was astonished, and thought it strange if goats could produce children, upon which her husband recounts every particular; how he found the infant exposed; how it was suckled; and how ashamed he felt at the idea of leaving it to perish. She shared his feelings, so they agreed to conceal the tokens, and adopt the child as their own, committing the rearing of it to the goat; and that the name also might be a pastoral one they determined to call it Daphnis.

Two years had now elapsed, when Dryas, a neighbouring shepherd, tending his flock, found an infant under similar circumstances.

There was a grotto[1] sacred to the Nymphs; it was a spacious rock, concave within, convex without. The statues of the Nymphs themselves were carved in stone. Their feet were bare, their arms naked to the shoulder, their hair falling dishevelled upon their shoulders, their vests girt about the waist, a smile[2] sat upon their brow; their whole semblance was that of a troop of dancers. The dome[3] of the grotto rose over the middle of the rock. Water, springing from a fountain, formed a running stream, and a trim meadow stretched its soft and abundant herbage before the entrance, fed by the perpetual moisture. Within, milk-pails, transverse-flutes, flageolets and pastoral pipes[4] were suspended--the offerings of many an aged shepherd.

An ewe of Dryas's flock which had lately lambed had frequently resorted to this grotto, and raised apprehensions of her being lost. The shepherd wishing to cure her of this habit, and to bring her back to her former way of grazing, twisted some green osiers into the form of a slip knot, and approached the rock with the view of seizing her. Upon arriving there, however, he beheld a sight far contrary to his expectation. He found his ewe affectionately offering from her udder copious draughts of milk to an infant, which without any wailing, eagerly turned from one teat to the other its clean and glossy face, the animal licking it, as soon as it had had its fill.

This child was a female: and had beside its swathing garments, by way of tokens, a head-dress wrought with gold, gilt sandals, and golden[5] anklets.

Dryas imagining that this foundling was a gift from the Deity, and instructed by his sheep to pity and love the infant, raised her in his arms, placed the tokens in his scrip, and prayed the Nymphs that their favour might attend upon him in bringing up their suppliant; and when the time was come for driving his cattle from their pasture, he returns to his cottage, relates what he had seen to his wife, exhibits what he had found, urges her to observe a secrecy, and to regard and rear the child as her own daughter.

Nape (for so his wife was called) immediately became a mother to the infant, and felt affection towards it, fearing perhaps to be outdone in tenderness by the ewe, and to make appearances more probable, gave the child the pastoral name of Chloe.

The two children grew rapidly, and their personal appearance exceeded that of ordinary rustics. Daphnis was now fifteen and Chloe was his junior by two years, when on the same night Lamon and Dryas had the following dream. They thought that they beheld the Nymphs of the Grotto, in which the fountain was and where Dryas found the infant, presenting Daphnis and Chloe to a very saucy looking and handsome boy, who had wings upon his shoulders, and a little bow and arrows in his hand. He lightly touched them both with one of his shafts, and commanded them henceforth to follow a pastoral life. The boy was to tend goats, the girl was to have the charge of sheep.

The Shepherd and Goat-herd having had this dream, were grieved to think that these, their adopted children, were like themselves to have the care of flocks. Their dress had given promise of a better fortune, in consequence of which their fare had been more delicate, and their education and accomplishments superior to those of a country life.

It appeared to them, however, that in the case of children whom the gods had preserved, the will of the gods must be obeyed; so each having communicated to the other his dream, they offered a sacrifice to the "WINGED BOY, THE COMPANION OF THE NYMPHS," (for they were unacquainted with his name) and sent forth the young people to their pastoral employments, having first instructed them in their duties; how to pasture their herds before the noon-day heat, and when it was abated; at what time to lead them to the stream, and afterwards to drive them home to the fold; which of their sheep and goats required the crook, and to which only the voice was necessary.

They, on their part, received the charge as if it had been some powerful sovereignty, and felt an affection for their sheep and goats beyond what is usual with shepherds: Chloe referring her preservation to a ewe, and Daphnis remembering that a she-goat had suckled him when he was exposed.

It was the beginning of spring, the flowers were in bloom throughout the woods, the meadows, and the mountains; there were the buzzings of the bee, the warblings of the songsters, the frolics of the lambs. The young of the flock were skipping on the mountains, the bees flew humming through the meadows, and the songs of the birds resounded through the bushes. Seeing all things pervaded with such universal joy, they, young and susceptible as they were, imitated whatever they saw or heard. Hearing the carol of the birds, they sang; seeing the sportive skipping of the lambs, they danced; and in imitation of the bees they gathered flowers. Some they placed in their bosoms, and others they wove into chaplets and carried them as offerings to the Nymphs.

They tended their flocks in company, and all their occupations were in common. Daphnis frequently collected the sheep, which had strayed, and Chloe drove back from a precipice the goats which were too venturesome. Sometimes one would take the entire management both of goats and sheep, while the other was intent upon some amusement.

Their sports were of a pastoral and childish kind. Chloe sometimes neglected her flock and went in search of stalks of asphodel, with which she wove traps[6] for locusts; while Daphnis devoted himself to playing till nightfall upon his pipe, which he had formed by cutting slender reeds, perforating the intervals between the joints, and compacting them together with soft wax. Sometimes they shared their milk and wine, and made a common meal upon the provision which they had brought from home; and sooner might you see one part of the flock divided from the other than Daphnis separate from Chloe.

While thus engaged in their amusements Love contrived an interruption of a serious nature.[7] A she-wolf from the neighbourhood had often carried off lambs from other shepherds' flocks, as she required a plentiful supply of food for her whelps. Upon this the villagers assembled by night and dug pits in the earth, six feet wide and twenty-four feet deep. The greater part of the loose earth, dug out of these pits, they carried to a distance and scattered about, spreading the remainder over some long dry sticks laid over the mouth of the pits, so as to resemble the natural surface of the ground. The sticks were weaker than straws, so that if even a hare ran over them they would break and prove that instead of substance there was but a show of solid earth. The villagers dug many of these pits in the mountains and in the plains, but they could not succeed in capturing the wolf, which discovered the contrivance of the snare. They however caused the destruction of many of their own goats and sheep, and very nearly, as we shall see, that of Daphnis.

Two angry he-goats engaged in fight. The contest waxed more and more violent, until one of them having his horn broken ran away bellowing with pain. The victor followed in hot and close pursuit. Daphnis, vexed to see that his goat's horn was broken, and that the conqueror persevered in his vengeance, seized his club and crook, and pursued the pursuer.[8] In consequence of the former hurrying on in wrath, and the latter flying in trepidation, neither of them observed what lay in their path, and both fell into a pit, the goat first, Daphnis afterwards. This was the means of preserving his life, the goat serving as a support in his descent. Poor Daphnis remained at the bottom lamenting his sad mishap with tears, and anxiously hoping that some one might pass by, and pull him out. Chloe, who had observed the accident, hastened to the spot, and finding that he was still alive, summoned a cowherd from an adjacent field to come to his assistance. He obeyed the call, but upon seeking for a rope long enough to draw Daphnis out, no rope was to be found: upon which Chloe undoing her head-band,[9] gave it to the cowherd to let down; they then placed themselves at the brink of the pit, and held one end, while Daphnis grasped the other with both hands, and so got out.

They then extricated the unhappy goat, who had both his horns broken by the fall, and thus suffered a just punishment for his revenge towards his defeated fellow-combatant. They gave him to the herdsman as a reward for his assistance, and if the family at home inquired after him, were prepared to say that he had been destroyed by a wolf. After this they returned to see whether their flocks were safe, and finding both goats and sheep feeding quietly and orderly, they sat down on the trunk of a tree and began to examine whether Daphnis had received any wound. No hurt or blood was to be seen, but his hair and all the rest of his person were covered with mud and dirt. Daphnis thought it would be best to wash himself, before Lamon and Myrtale should find out what had happened to him; proceeding with Chloe to the Grotto of the Nymphs, he gave her his tunic and scrip in charge.[10]

He then approached the fountain and washed his hair and his whole person. His hair was long and black, and his body sun-burnt; one might have imagined that its hue was derived from the overshadowing of his locks. Chloe thought him beautiful, and because she had never done so before, attributed his beauty to the effects of the bath. As she was washing his back and shoulders his tender flesh yielded to her hand, so that, unobserved, she frequently touched her own skin, in order to ascertain which of the two was softer. The sun was now setting, so they drove home their flocks, the only wish in Chloe's mind being to see Daphnis bathe again. The following day, upon returning to the accustomed pasture, Daphnis sat as usual under an oak, playing upon his pipe and surveying his goats lying down and apparently listening to his strains. Chloe, on her part, sitting near him, looked at her sheep, but more frequently turned her eyes upon Daphnis; again he appeared to her beautiful as he was playing upon his pipe, and she attributed his beauty to the melody, so that taking the pipe she played upon it, in order, if possible, to appear beautiful herself. She persuaded him to bathe again, she looked at him when in the bath, and while looking at him, touched his skin: after which, as she returned home, she mentally admired him, and this admiration was the beginning of love. She knew not the meaning of her feelings, young as she was, and brought up in the country, and never having heard from any one, so much as the name of love. She felt an oppression at her heart, she could not restrain her eyes from gazing upon him, nor her mouth from often pronouncing his name. She took no food, she lay awake at night, she neglected her flock, she laughed and wept by turns; now she would doze, then suddenly start up; at one moment her face became pale, in another moment it burnt with blushes. Such irritation is not felt even by the breeze-stung heifer.[11] Upon one occasion, when alone, she thus reasoned with herself.--"I am no doubt ill, but what my malady is I know not; I am in pain, and yet I have no wound; I feel grief, and yet I have lost none of my flock; I burn, and yet am sitting in the shade: how often have brambles torn my skin, without my shedding a single tear! how often have the bees stung me, yet I could still enjoy my meals! Whatever it is which now wounds my heart, must be sharper than either of these. Daphnis is beautiful, so are the flowers; his pipe breathes sweetly, so does the nightingale; yet I take no account either of birds or flowers. Would that I could become a pipe, that he might play upon me! or a goat, that I might pasture under his care! Ο cruel fountain, thou madest Daphnis alone beautiful; my bathing has been all in vain! Dear Nymphs, ye see me perishing, yet neither do ye endeavour to save the maiden brought up among you! Who will crown you with flowers when I am gone? Who will take care of my poor lambs? Who will attend to my chirping locust, which I caught with so much trouble, that its song might lull me to rest in the grotto; but now I am sleepless, because of Daphnis, and my locust chirps in vain!"

Such were the feelings, and such the words of Chloe, while as yet ignorant of the name of love. But Dorco the cowherd (the same who had drawn Daphnis and the goat out of the pit), a young fellow who already boasted of some beard upon his chin, and who knew not merely the name but the realities of love, had become enamoured of Chloe, from the first time of meeting her. Feeling his passion increase day by day, and despising Daphnis, whom he looked upon as a mere boy, he determined to effect his purpose either by gifts or by dint of force. At first he made presents to them both; he gave Daphnis a shepherd's pipe, having its nine reeds[12] connected with metal in lieu of wax. He presented Chloe with a fawn skin, spotted all over, such as is worn by the Bacchantes. Having thus insinuated himself into their friendship, he by degrees neglected Daphnis, but every day brought something to Chloe, either a delicate cheese, or a chaplet of flowers, or a ripe apple. On one occasion he brought her a mountain calf, a gilt drinking cup, and the nestlings[13] of a wild bird. She, ignorant as she was of love's artifices, received his gifts with pleasure;[14] chiefly pleased, however, at having something to give Daphnis. One day it happened that Dorco and he (for he likewise was destined to experience the pains and penalties of love) had an argument on the subject of their respective share of beauty. Chloe was to be umpire, and the victor's reward was to be a kiss from her. Dorco, thus began--

"Maiden," said he, "I am taller than Daphnis, I am also a cowherd, he, a goatherd, I therefore excel him as far as oxen are superior to goats; I am fair as milk, and my hair brown as the ripe harvest field; moreover, I had a mother to bring me up, not a goat. He, on the other hand is short, beardless as a woman, and has a skin as tawny as a wolf; while, from tending he-goats, he has contracted a goatish smell; he is also so poor, that he cannot afford to keep even a dog; and if it be true that a nanny gave him suck, he is no better[15] than a nanny's son."

Such was Dorco's speech; it was next the turn of Daphnis--

"It is true," said he, "that a she-goat suckled me, and so did a she-goat suckle Jove; I tend he-goats and will bring them into better condition than his oxen, but I smell of them no more than Pan does, who has in him more of a goat than any thing else. I am content with cheese, coarse bread,[16] and white wine, the food suitable for country folk. I am beardless, so is Bacchus; I am dark complexioned, so is the hyacinth; yet Bacchus is preferred before the satyr and the hyacinth[17] before the lily. Now look at him, he is as sandy haired as a fox, bearded as a goat, and smock-faced as any city wench. If you have to bestow a kiss, it will be given to my mouth, whereas it will be thrown away upon his bristles. Remember also, maiden, that you owe _your_ nurture to a sheep, and yet this has not marred your beauty."

Chloe could restrain herself no longer, but partly from pleasure at his praising her, partly from a desire of kissing him, she sprang forward and bestowed upon him the prize; an artless and unsophisticated kiss,[18] but one well calculated to set his heart on fire. Upon this, Dorco, in great disgust, took himself off, determined to seek some other way of wooing. Daphnis, as though he had been stung instead of kissed, became suddenly grave, felt a shivering all over, and could not control the beating of his heart. He wished to gaze upon Chloe, but at the first glance his face was suffused with blushes. For the first time he admired her hair, because it was auburn; and her eyes, because they were large[19] and brilliant; her countenance, because it was fairer than even the milk of his own she-goats. One might have supposed that he had just received the faculty of sight, having had till then, "no speculation" in his eyes.[20]

From this moment, he took no food beyond the merest morsel, no drink beyond what would just moisten his lips. Formerly more chattering than the locusts, he became mute; he was now dull and listless, whereas he had been more nimble than the goats. His flock was neglected, his pipe was thrown aside; his face became paler than the summer-parched herbage. Chloe alone could rouse his powers of speech; whenever he was absent from her, he would thus fondly soliloquize:--

"What will be the result of this kiss of Chloe? her lips are softer than rose-buds, and her mouth is sweeter than the honeycomb, but this kiss has left a sting sharper than the sting of a bee!--I have frequently kissed the kids, and the young puppies, and the calf which Dorco gave me, but this kiss of Chloe is something quite new and wonderful! My breath is gone, my heart pants, my spirit sinks within me and dies away; and yet I wish to kiss again![21] My victory has been the source of sorrow and of a new disease, which I know not how to name. Could Chloe have tasted poison before she permitted me to kiss her? If so, how is it that she survives? How sweetly the nightingales sing, while my pipe is mute! How gaily the kids skip and play, while I sit listlessly by! The flowers are in full beauty, yet I weave no garlands! The violets and the hyacinths are blooming, while Daphnis droops and fades away. Alas! shall Dorco ever appear more beautiful in Chloe's eyes, than I do!"

Such were the sensations of the worthy Daphnis, and thus he vented his feelings. He now first felt the power, and now first uttered the language of--LOVE.

In the mean time Dorco, the cowherd, who entertained a passion for Chloe, watched an opportunity of addressing Dryas on the subject; and finding him one day employed in planting a tree near one of his vines, he approached carrying with him some fine cheeses.[22] First of all he begged Dryas to accept of the cheeses as a present from an old acquaintance and fellow herdsman; and then informed him of the affection which he cherished towards his daughter Chloe. He promised that, if he should be so happy as to obtain her for his wife, he was prepared to offer him gifts, many and handsome, as a cowherd could bestow,--a yoke of oxen fit for the plough, four hives of bees, fifty young apple trees for planting, the hide of an ox, suitable for shoe leather, and a weaned calf annually.

Dryas was almost tempted by these promises to give his assent to the marriage; but on the other hand, reflecting that the maiden was deserving of a better match, and fearing lest if ever discovered, he might get himself into great trouble, he refused his assent, at the same time intreating Dorco not to be affronted, and declining to accept the gifts which he had enumerated.

Dorco being thus a second time disappointed of his hope, and having given his cheese away to no purpose, conceived a plan of attacking Chloe by force, whenever he should find her alone; and having observed that she and Daphnis, on alternate days, conducted the herds to drink, he contrived a scheme, worthy of a neatherd's brain. A large wolf had been killed by his bull, who fought in defence of the herd; Dorco[23] threw this wolf's skin over him, so that it completely covered his back, reaching to the ground, and he adjusted it in such a manner, that the skins of the fore feet were fitted over his hands, while those of the hind feet spread down his legs to the very heels. The head, with its gaping jaws, encased him as completely as a soldier's helmet.

Having thus "be-wolfed" himself as much as possible, he withdrew to the spring, where the sheep and goats usually drank as they returned from pasture. The spring was in a hollow, and around it the furze, brambles, junipers, and thistles were so thick, that a real wolf might easily choose it as a lair. Here Dorco concealed himself, and anxiously waited for the time when the flocks should come to drink, and when Chloe, as he hoped, would be so startled and terrified by his appearance that he might easily seize her.

He had not remained long, when Chloe conducted the flock to the spring, leaving Daphnis employed in cutting green leaves as fodder for the kids in the evening. The dogs (the guardians of the sheep and goats) accompanied Chloe, and scenting[24] about with their usual sagacity, discovered Dorco, who was in the act of moving. Taking him for a wolf they burst into full cry, rushed upon him, and seizing him before he could recover from his astonishment, fixed their teeth in the skin. This covering for a time protected him, and the shame of a discovery operated so strongly that he lay quiet in the thicket; but when Chloe, in her alarm at the first onset of the dogs, had called Daphnis to her aid, and when the skin was torn off by his assailants, so that they at length seized his flesh, he bawled out, entreating the assistance of the maiden and of Daphnis, who had now arrived at the spot. The dogs were easily appeased by the well-known voices of their master and mistress, who took Dorco and conveyed him to the spring (soundly bitten in the thighs and shoulders), where they washed his wounds, and chewing some fresh elm bark spread it as a salve. Innocent themselves, and totally ignorant of the desperate enterprizes of lovers, they imagined that Dorco's disguise was a mere piece of rustic sport, and, so far from being angry with him, they did their best to comfort him, led him by the hand, part of the way home--and bade him farewell.

Dorco, after his narrow escape from the dog's, and not (according to the old adage) from the wolf's mouth, retired home to nurse his wounds. Daphnis and Chloe had great trouble during the remainder of the day in collecting their sheep and goats, which, terrified at the sight of the wolf, and by the barking of the dogs, had fled in different directions: some had climbed the rocks, others had run down to the shore. They had, indeed, been instructed to obey their master's call; in any alarm the pipe was usually sufficient to soothe them, and if they were scattered, a clapping of the hands would collect them; but the late sudden alarm had made them forget their former discipline, so that Daphnis and Chloe were compelled to track them, as they do hares; and with much difficulty and trouble they brought them back to their cottages. That night only the young man and maiden enjoyed sound sleep, their fatigue furnishing a remedy for the pains of love. But with the morning their usual sensations returned. When they met,--they rejoiced; when they parted,--they were sad. They pined with grief. They wished for a something, but they knew not what. This only they were aware of, that the one had lost peace of mind by a kiss, the other by a bath.

The season,[25] moreover, added fuel to their fire; it was now the end of spring; the summer had begun, and all things were in the height of their beauty. The trees were covered with fruit; the fields with corn. Charming was the chirp of the grasshoppers; sweet was the smell of the fruit; and the bleating of the flocks was delightful. You might fancy the rivers[26] to be singing, as they gently flowed along, the winds to be piping, as they breathed[27] through the pines; and the apples to be falling to the ground, sick of love; and that the sun, fond of gazing upon natural beauty, was forcing every one to throw off their garments. Daphnis felt all the warmth of the season, and plunged into the rivers; sometimes he only bathed himself; sometimes he amused himself with pursuing the fish, which darted in circles around him; and sometimes he drank of the stream, as if to extinguish the flame which he felt within. Chloe, when she had milked the goats and the sheep, had great difficulty in setting her cream, for the flies were very troublesome, and if driven away, they would bite her; after her work was done, she washed her face, crowned herself with a garland of pine-leaves, put on her girdle of fawn-skin, and filled a pail with wine and milk as a beverage for herself and Daphnis. As mid-day heat came on, the eyes of both were fascinated; she, beholding the naked and faultless figure of Daphnis, was ready to melt with love; Daphnis, on the other hand, beholding Chloe in her fawn-skin girdle and with the garland of pine-leaves on her head, holding out the milk-pail to him, fancied he beheld one of the Nymphs of the Grot, and taking the garland from her head, he placed it on his own, first covering it with kisses; while she, after often kissing it, put on his dress, which he had stripped off in order to bathe. Sometimes they began in sport to pelt[28] each other with apples, and amused themselves with adorning each other's hair, carefully dividing it. She compared the black hair of Daphnis to myrtle-berries; while he likened her cheeks to apples,[29] because the white was suffused with red. He then taught her to play on the pipe;--when she began to breathe into it, he snatched it from her, ran over the reeds with his own lips, and under pretence of correcting her mistakes, he in fact kissed her through the medium of his pipe.

While he was thus playing in the heat of the noon-day, and their flocks around them were reposing in the shade, Chloe imperceptibly fell asleep. Daphnis laid down his pipe, and while gazing upon her whole person with insatiable eyes, there being no one to inspire him with shame; he thus murmured, directing his words to her:--"What eyes are those, which are now closed in sleep! what a mouth is that, which breathes so sweetly! no apples, no thickets, exhale so delicious a scent! Ah! but I fear to kiss her! a kiss consumes me, and like new honey,[30] maddens me! besides, a kiss would wake her! A plague upon those chirping grasshoppers, their shrill notes will disturb my Chloe! those vexatious goats, too, are clashing their horns together; surely the wolves are grown more cowardly than foxes, that they do not come and seize them!"

As he was thus soliloquizing, he was interrupted by a grasshopper, which in springing from a swallow which pursued it, fell into Chloe's bosom. The swallow was unable to take its prey, but hovered over Chloe's cheek and touched it with its wings. The maiden screamed and started; but seeing the swallow still fluttering near her, and Daphnis laughing at her alarm, her fear vanished, and she rubbed her eyes, which were still disposed to sleep. The grasshopper chirped from her bosom, as if in gratitude for his deliverance. At the sound Chloe screamed again; at which Daphnis laughed, and availing himself of the opportunity, put his hand into her bosom and drew the happy chirper from its place, which did not cease its note even when in his hand; Chloe was pleased at seeing the innocent cause of her alarm, kissed it, and replaced it, still singing, in her bosom.

At this moment they were delighted with listening to a ring-dove in the neighbouring wood, and upon Chloe's inquiring what the bird meant by its note, Daphnis told her the legend, which was commonly current:--"There was a maiden, my love, who, like yourself, was beautiful; like yourself, she tended large herds of cattle; and, like yourself, she was in the flower of youth. She sang sweetly;--so sweetly, that the herds were delighted with her song, and needed neither the crook nor the goad to manage them; they obeyed her voice; and remaining near listened to the maid, as she sat under the shade of the pine crowned with a garland of its leaves, and singing the praises of Pan,[31] and the nymph Pitys. A youth, who pastured his herds at a little distance, and who was handsome, and fond as herself of melody, vied with her in singing; as he was a man, his tones were deeper, but as he was young, they were very sweet. He sang, and charmed away eight of her best cows to his own pastures. The maiden was mortified at the loss of her cattle, and at being so much surpassed in song; and, in her despair, prayed the gods to convert her into a bird before she reached her home. The gods assented to her prayer, and metamorphosed her into a bird; under which form, as of old, she frequents the mountains, and delights in warbling. Her note bespeaks her misfortune, for she is calling her wandering cows."

Such were the delights of summer.--Autumn was now advanced, and the black grapes were ripening; when some pirates of Tyre, in a light Carian bark,[32] that they might not appear to be foreigners, touched at that coast and came on shore, armed with coats of mail and swords, and plundered everything which fell in their way. They carried off fragrant wine,[33] corn in great plenty, honey in the comb. They also drove off some of Dorco's oxen, and seized Daphnis, who was musing in a melancholy mood, and rambling alone by the sea-shore. For Chloe being but young, was afraid of the insults of some of the saucy shepherds, and therefore had not led out her flock so early from the fold of Dryas. When the pirates saw this stout and handsome youth, who, they knew, would be a prize of greater value than the plunder of the fields, they took no more trouble about the goats, not did they proceed farther, but carried off the unlucky Daphnis to their vessel, weeping as he was hurried along, at a loss what to do, and calling loudly upon Chloe. When they had put him on board, they slipped their cable, and rowed from the shore. Chloe, in the mean time, who was still driving her flock, and carrying in her hand a new pipe as a present for Daphnis, when she saw the goats running about in confusion, and heard Daphnis calling out to her every moment in a louder voice, quitted her sheep, threw down the pipe, and ran to Dorco beseeching him to assist her.--He had been severely wounded by the pirates, and was lying upon the ground still breathing, the blood flowing from him in streams. At the sight of Chloe, reviving a little owing to the force of his former love, he exclaimed, "I shall shortly be no more, dear Chloe; I fought in defence of my oxen, and some of the rascally pirates have beaten me as they would have done an ox. Save your beloved Daphnis, revenge me, and destroy them. I have taught my cows to follow the sound of this pipe, and to obey its melody, even if they be feeding at the greatest distance. Take this pipe; breathe in it those notes, in which I once instructed Daphnis, and in which Daphnis instructed you. Do this, and leave the issue to the pipe and the cows. Moreover I make you a present of the pipe; with it I have obtained the prize from many a shepherd and many a herdsman. In return give me but one kiss, while I yet live; and when I am dead, shed a tear over me: and when you see another tending my flocks, remember Dorco."

Here he ceased, gave her a last kiss, and with the kiss resigned his breath. Chloe put the pipe to her lips, and blew with all her might. The cows began to low at hearing the well-known note, and leaped all at once into the sea. As they all plunged from the same side, and caused a mighty chasm in the waters the vessel lurched, the waves closed over it, and it sank. The crew and Daphnis fell into the sea, but they had not equal chances for preservation. The pirates were encumbered with their swords, scaled breast-plates, and greaves reaching to mid-leg: whereas Daphnis, who had been feeding his flocks in the plains, had not even his sandals on; and the weather being still very warm, he was half-naked. All swam for a little time, but their armour soon sunk the foreigners to the bottom. Daphnis easily threw off the garments which remained to encumber him, but, accustomed to swim only in rivers, buoyed himself up with great difficulty: at length, taught by necessity, he struck forward between two of the cows, grasped a horn of each of them, and was carried along as securely and as easily, as if he had been riding in his own wain. Oxen, be it observed, are better swimmers than men, or indeed than any animals, except aquatic birds and fish, nor are they in any danger of drowning unless their hoofs become softened by the water. The fact of many places being still called _Ox-fords_,[34] will bear out the truth of my assertion.

Thus was Daphnis delivered from two perils--from the pirates and from shipwreck, and in a manner beyond all expectation. When he reached the shore, he found Chloe smiling through her tears: he fell on her bosom, and inquired, what had led her to play that particular tune.--She related everything which had occurred--her running to Dorco--the habit of his cows--HIS ordering her to pipe that tune, and finally his death, but through a feeling of shame she said nothing of the kiss.

They now determined to pay the last honours to their benefactor; accordingly they came with the neighbours and relatives of the deceased, and buried him. They then threw up over his grave a large pile of earth, and planted about it various trees, and suspended over it[35] the emblems of their calling; in addition to which they poured libations of milk and of juice expressed from the grapes, and broke many pastoral pipes. Mournful lowings of the cattle were heard, accompanied with unwonted and disorderly movements, which the shepherds believed to be lamentations and tokens of sorrow on the part of the herd for their departed herdsman.[36]

After the funeral of Dorco, Chloe led Daphnis to the grotto of the Nymphs, where she washed him; and then, for the first time in his presence, bathed her own person, fair and radiant with beauty, and needing no bath to set off its comeliness. Then, after gathering the flowers which the season afforded, they crowned the statues with garlands, and suspended Dorco's pipe as a votive offering to the Nymphs. Having done this they returned to look for their flocks, which they found lying on the ground neither feeding nor bleating, but looking about, as if waiting in suspense for their re-appearance. When they came in view of them, and called to them in their usual manner, and sounded their pipes, the sheep got up, and began to feed, while the goats skipped about, and bleated as if exulting at the safety of their herdsman. But Daphnis could not attune his soul to joy; after seeing Chloe naked, and her formerly concealed beauties unveiled, he felt an inward pain as though preyed upon by poison. His breath went and came as though he were flying from some pursuer; and then it failed, as though he were exhausted with running. Chloe had come from the bath with redoubled charms, and the bath was thus more fatal to Daphnis than the ocean. As for himself, he attributed his feelings to being, in fancy, still among the thieves,[37]--rustic as he was, and as yet ignorant of the thievish tricks of love.

[Footnote 1: Compare the description of the Grotto of the Nymphs in Ithaca. Odys. B. xiii.

----"A pleasant cave Umbrageous, to the Nymphs devoted, nam'd The Naiads--Beakers in that cave and jars Of stone are found; bees lodge their honey there; And there on slender spindles of the rock The nymphs of rivers weave their wondrous robes, Perennial springs rise in it."--Cowper. ]

[Footnote 2:

Kένταυρoς ζαμενής, ἀγᾶνᾳ χλαρὸν γελάσσαις ὀφρύῖ.--Pindar. ]

[Footnote 3: ἡ ὧα--rendered by the Latin translation, "fastigium;" by the Italian, "giro;" by the French, "voûte"--is not to be found, in that sense, in Liddell and Scott's Lexicon.]

[Footnote 4: Theoc. Idyll, xx. 28. enumerates these instruments:--

Άδὺ δέ μοι τὸ μέλισμα, καὶ ἢv σύριγγι μελίσδω, Κἤν αὐλῶ λαλεώ, κἢν δώνακι, κἢν πλαγιαύλῳ--

The πλαγίαύλος resembled the German flute.]

[Footnote 5: The περισκέλις (in Latin, Periscelis--see Hor. Epist. 1. xvii. 56,) was an anklet or bangle, commonly worn not only by the Orientals, the Egyptians, and the Greeks, but by the Roman ladies also. It is frequently represented in the paintings of Greek figures on the walls of Pompeii.--Dict. of Greek and Rom. Antiq.]

[Footnote 6: See Theoc. Idyl. 1. 52.--

"Αὐτὰρ ὃy' ανθερίκίσσι καλάν πλέκει ἀκριδοθήκαv." ]

[Footnote 7: σπουδὴν ἀνέπλaσε.]

[Footnote 8: ἐδίωκε τὸν διῶκοντα.]

[Footnote 9: ταινιάν--either a head-band or breast-band.]

[Footnote 10: What now follows, as far as the soliloquy on Chloe's kiss, is a translation of the fragment discovered by M. Courier, in the Laurentian Library at Florence, in 1809, which supplies the hiatus deflendus which till then interrupted the narrative.]

[Footnote 11:

----"οῖστροπληξ δ' ἐγὼ μάστιγι θείᾳ γῆν πρὸ γῆς ελαύνομαι." Æsch. P. V. 681. See also Virg. G. iii. 145-151. ]

[Footnote 12: So, Theocritus--"Σύριγγ' ἔχω εννεάφωνον." Idyl. viii. 21.

The shepherd's pipe was in general composed of seven unequal reeds compacted with wax, and consequently was only seven-toned.

"Est mihi disparibus _septem_ compacta cicutis Fistula."--Virg. Ec. ii. 36. ]

[Footnote 13: "Parta meæ Veneri sunt præmia; namque notavi, Ipse locum aëriæ quo congessere palumbes." Virg. Ec. "I have found out a gift for my fair, I have found where the wood-pigeons breed." Shenstone. ]

[Footnote 14: ἔχαιρε--ἔχαιρεν.]

[Footnote 15: oὐδὲν ἔριφων διαφέρει.]

[Footnote 16: ἄρτoς ὀβελίας--Bread baked or toasted on a spit.]

[Footnote 17:

"Alba ligustra cadunt, vaccinia nigra leguntur." Virg. Ec. ii. 18. ]

[Footnote 18: No doubt she took him by the tips of his ears. This mode of salutation was called χύτρα, the pot-kiss, (alluding to the double handles of a pot.) In after times it took the name of the Florentine kiss. "Warton quotes an old gentleman, who says, that when disposed to kiss his wife with unusual tenderness, he always gave her the Florentine kiss.--Chapman's Theocritus."

Όὐκ ἕραμ' Άλκίππας, ὃτι με πράν ὀυκ ἐφιλασεν Τῶν ὤτων καθελοῖσ'."--Idyl. v. 135. ]

[Footnote 19: διαυγεῖς. Another reading is,--καθάπερ βοὸς,--equivalent to the βoῶπις of Homer. Sappho uses the same comparison.]

[Footnote 20:

"But love first learned in a lady's eyes, Lives not alone immured in the brain. . . . . . . It adds a precious _seeing to the eye_."--Shaks. ]

[Footnote 21:

"Αλλὰ καμμὲν γλῶσσ' ἔαγ', ἄν δἐ λεπτὸν Αὐτίκα χρῶ πῦρ ὺποδεδρόμακεν, Όμμάτεσσιν δ' σὐδὲν ὄρημι, βομβεῦσιν δ' ακοαί μοι· Καδ' δ' ἱδρὠς ψυχρὸς χεἐται τρόμος δὲ Πᾶσαν αἱρεῖ· χρωροτέρη δὲ ποίας Έμμί· τεθνᾶναι δ' ὀλίγου δἐοισα Φαίνομαι ἄπνους."--Sappho. ]

[Footnote 22: The reading in Courier's edition, μετά τυρίσκων τινῶν γενικῶν, has been here followed, instead of the common one, which yields no very clear sense--συρίγγων τινῶν γαμικῶν.]

[Footnote 23:

"Εσσατο δ' ἔκτοσθε' ῥινὸν πoλιθῖο λύκοιο Κρατὶ δ' ἔπι κτιδέην κυνέην."--Iliad, x. 334.

From the example of Dorco, this became a favourite stratagem among pastoral characters. In the Pastor Fido (act iv. sc. 2) Dorinda disguises herself as a wolf, and the troubadour Vidal was hunted down in consequence of a similar experiment.--Dunlop.]

[Footnote 24: "odora canum vis."--Virg. Æn. iv. 132.]

[Footnote 25:

"Flush'd by the spirit of the genial year, Now from the virgin's cheeks, a fresher bloom Shoots, less and less, the live carnation round; Her lips blush deeper sweets; she breathes of youth; The shining moisture swells into her eyes In brighter flow; her wishing bosom heaves With palpitation wild; kind tumults seize Her veins, and all her yielding soul is love. From the keen gaze her lover turns away Full of the dear ecstatic power, and sick With sighing languishment."--Thomson. ]

[Footnote 26:

"A noise like that of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune."--Coleridge. ]

[Footnote 27:

"Αδύ τι τὸ ψιθύρισμα, καὶ ἁ πίτυς αἰπόλε, τήνα, Ἃ ποτὶ ταῖς παγαῖσi μελίσδεται."--Theoc. Idyll. i. 1. ]

[Footnote 28: A favourite amusement with lovers:--

"Malo me Galatea petit, lasciva puella."--Virg. Ec. iii. 64.

"Βάλλει καὶ μάλοισι τὸν αἰπόλον ἁ Κλεαρίστα." Theoc. Idyl. v. 36. ]

[Footnote 29:

"Her cheeks so rare a white was on, No daisy makes comparison, (Who sees them is undone); For streaks of red are mingled there, Such as are on a Cath'rine pear, (The side that's next the sun)."--Suckling. ]

[Footnote 30: Xenophon (Anab. iv. 8, 20), gives an account of the Greeks in their retreat eating new honey; they were for a time, he says, frantic, were seized with vomiting and purging, and were unable to stand upon their feet; some died from its effects.]

[Footnote 31:

.... "Pan Pinea semiferi capitis velamina quassans."--Lucret. iv. 589.

Pan fell in love with the nymph Pitys; his rival Boreas blew the nymph from a rock and killed her. Pan, unable to save, changed her into a pine tree--πίτυς.]

[Footnote 32: ἡμιoλία, a light vessel with one and a half banks of oars.]

[Footnote 33: οἶνος ἀνθοσμίας, either fine old wine, or wine scented with the juices of flowers. See a note of Cookesley on Arist. Plut. 788; also a passage in Xen. Hell. vi. 11. 6.]

[Footnote 34: In the P. V. of Æschylus, l. 732, Prometheus tells Io;

"Ἔσται δὲ θνητοΐς εἰσαεὶ λόγος μέγας Tῆς σῆς πορείας, Βόσπορος δ' ἐπώνυμος Κεκλήσεται."

The true etymology however is to be found in the signification of βοῦς and ἵππος--which in composition means size.]

[Footnote 35: See ch. 2.]

[Footnote 36: θρῆνος τῶν βοῶν ἐπὶ βουκόλῳ.

Theocritus in Idyll, i. 74, represents the herds as mourning their master's death--

"Πολλαί oι πὰρ ποσσί βόες, πολλοὶ δέ τε ταῦροι, Πολλαὶ δ' αὖ δαμάλαι καὶ πόρτιες ὠδύραντο--" ]

[Footnote 37: παρὰ τοῖς λησταὶς, ... τὸ ἔρωτος ληστήριον--]