Theocritus Part 2

"Find him alone: nod softly: say, 'she waits'; And bring him." So I spake: she went her way, And brought the l.u.s.trous-limbed one to my roof.

And I, the instant I beheld him step Lightfooted o'er the threshold of my door, _(Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_,) Became all cold like snow, and from my brow Brake the damp dewdrops: utterance I had none, Not e'en such utterance as a babe may make That babbles to its mother in its dreams; But all my fair frame stiffened into wax.

_Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_.

He bent his pitiless eyes on me; looked down, And sate him on my couch, and sitting, said: "Thou hast gained on me, Simaetha, (e'en as I Gained once on young Philinus in the race,) Bidding me hither ere I came unasked.

_Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_.

"For I had come, by Eros I had come, This night, with comrades twain or may-be more, The fruitage of the Wine-G.o.d in my robe, And, wound about my brow with ribands red, The silver leaves so dear to Heracles.

_Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_.

"Had ye said 'Enter,' well: for 'mid my peers High is my name for goodliness and speed: I had kissed that sweet mouth once and gone my way.

But had the door been barred, and I thrust out, With brand and axe would we have stormed ye then.

_Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_.

"Now be my thanks recorded, first to Love, Next to thee, maiden, who didst pluck me out, A half-burned helpless creature, from the flames, And badst me hither. It is Love that lights A fire more fierce than his of Lipara; _(Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_.) "Scares, mischief-mad, the maiden from her bower, The bride from her warm couch." He spake: and I, A willing listener, sat, my hand in his, Among the cus.h.i.+ons, and his cheek touched mine, Each hotter than its wont, and we discoursed In soft low language. Need I prate to thee, Sweet Moon, of all we said and all we did?

Till yesterday he found no fault with me, Nor I with him. But lo, to-day there came Philista's mother--hers who flutes to me-- With her Melampo's; just when up the sky Gallop the mares that chariot rose-limbed Dawn: And divers tales she brought me, with the rest How Delphis loved, she knew not rightly whom: But this she knew; that of the rich wine, aye He poured 'to Love;' and at the last had fled, To line, she deemed, the fair one's hall with flowers.

Such was my visitor's tale, and it was true: For thrice, nay four times, daily he would stroll Hither, leave here full oft his Dorian flask: Now--'tis a fortnight since I saw his face.

Doth he then treasure something sweet elsewhere?

Am I forgot? I'll charm him now with charms.

But let him try me more, and by the Fates He'll soon be knocking at the gates of h.e.l.l.

Spells of such power are in this chest of mine, Learned, lady, from mine host in Palestine.

Lady, farewell: turn ocean-ward thy steeds: As I have purposed, so shall I fulfil.

Farewell, thou bright-faced Moon! Ye stars, farewell, That wait upon the car of noiseless Night.

IDYLL III.

The Serenade.

I pipe to Amaryllis; while my goats, t.i.tyrus their guardian, browse along the fell.

O t.i.tyrus, as I love thee, feed my goats: And lead them to the spring, and, t.i.tyrus, 'ware The lifted crest of yon gray Libyan ram.

Ah winsome Amaryllis! Why no more Greet'st thou thy darling, from the caverned rock Peeping all coyly? Think'st thou scorn of him?

Hath a near view revealed him satyr-shaped Of chin and nostril? I shall hang me soon.

See here ten apples: from thy favourite tree I plucked them: I shall bring ten more anon.

Ah witness my heart-anguis.h.!.+ Oh were I A booming bee, to waft me to thy lair, Threading the fern and ivy in whose depths Thou nestlest! I have learned what Love is now: Fell G.o.d, he drank the lioness's milk, In the wild woods his mother cradled him, Whose fire slow-burns me, smiting to the bone.

O thou whose glance is beauty and whose heart All marble: O dark-eyebrowed maiden mine!

Cling to thy goatherd, let him kiss thy lips, For there is sweetness in an empty kiss.

Thou wilt not? Piecemeal I will rend the crown, The ivy-crown which, dear, I guard for thee, Inwov'n with scented parsley and with flowers: Oh I am desperate--what betides me, what?-- Still art thou deaf? I'll doff my coat of skins And leap into yon waves, where on the watch For mackerel Olpis sits: tho' I 'scape death, That I have all but died will pleasure thee.

That learned I when (I murmuring 'loves she me?') The _Love-in-absence_, crushed, returned no sound, But shrank and shrivelled on my smooth young wrist.

I learned it of the sieve-divining crone Who gleaned behind the reapers yesterday: 'Thou'rt wrapt up all,' Agraia said, 'in her; She makes of none account her wors.h.i.+pper.'

Lo! a white goat, and twins, I keep for thee: Mermnon's la.s.s covets them: dark she is of skin: But yet hers be they; thou but foolest me.

She cometh, by the quivering of mine eye.

I'll lean against the pine-tree here and sing.

She may look round: she is not adamant.

[_Sings_] Hippomenes, when he a maid would wed, Took apples in his hand and on he sped.

Famed Atalanta's heart was won by this; She marked, and maddening sank in Love's abyss.

From Othrys did the seer Melampus stray To Pylos with his herd: and lo there lay In a swain's arms a maid of beauty rare; Alphesiboea, wise of heart, she bare.

Did not Adonis rouse to such excess Of frenzy her whose name is Loveliness, (He a mere lad whose wethers grazed the hill) That, dead, he's pillowed on her bosom still?

Endymion sleeps the sleep that changeth not: And, maiden mine, I envy him his lot!

Envy Iasion's: his it was to gain Bliss that I dare not breathe in ears profane.

My head aches. What reck'st thou? I sing no more: E'en where I fell I'll lie, until the wolves Rend me--may that be honey in thy mouth!

IDYLL IV.

The Herdsmen.

_BATTUS. CORYDON._

BATTUS.

Who owns these cattle, Corydon? Philondas? Prythee say.

CORYDON.

No, aegon: and he gave them me to tend while he's away.

BATTUS.

Dost milk them in the gloaming, when none is nigh to see?

CORYDON.

The old man brings the calves to suck, and keeps an eye on me.

BATTUS.

And to what region then hath flown the cattle's rightful lord?

CORYDON.

Hast thou not heard? With Milo he vanished Elis-ward.

BATTUS.

How! was the wrestler's oil e'er yet so much as seen by him?

CORYDON.

Men say he rivals Heracles in l.u.s.tiness of limb.

BATTUS.

I'm Polydeuces' match (or so my mother says) and more.

CORYDON.

--So off he started; with a spade, and of these ewes a score.

BATTUS.

This Milo will be teaching wolves how they should raven next.