CHAPTER I
In those days there were no tombs by the roadside and no temples upon the hills. Men themselves scarce existed; there was not much talk of them. The earth was given up to the joy of the gods and the times favoured the birth of amazing divinities. It was the time of Echnida and the Chimera of Pasiphæ and the Minotaur. The young ones that there were went pale through the woods fearing to be waylaid by dragons. Nevertheless upon the humid banks of the river Eurotas, where the trees were so thick that one could not see the light, there lived an extraordinary young girl who was blue-tinted like the light of the night, mysterious as the moon and sweet as the Milky Way. That was why they had named her Lêda. She was in truth almost blue, for the blood of the iris was in her veins and not the blood of the rose that is in your own veins. Her lips shone with blue like her eyes. Her hair was so abundant that she sometimes seemed to have long wings. She loved only the water and the night. Her chief pleasure was to walk upon the soft springy spongy turf of the banks near the water. She could feel the cold moisture of the water but hardly see the water itself, and her naked feet had little shudders of pleasure and were softly moistened.
For she did not bathe in the river because of her fear of the jealous water-nymphs, and she did not want to give herself up to the water entirely. But she loved to moisten her body and hair with the sweet river-water. Sometimes she took up into her hands the freshness of the flood and poured it between her young breasts, watching it trickle down and run away. Sometimes she laid her full length down upon the bank and drank from the surface of the water slowly, sweetly. Then she seemed like a thirsty little animal. Such was chiefly her life: that and thinking upon the satyrs. Sometimes one came upon her unexpectedly but fled in affright, for they all thought her to be Phœbe, and austere to those who saw her naked. She would have liked to talk to them had they stayed near her. Their appearance filled her with astonishment. One night when she had gone for a short walk in the forest, because it had been raining and the ground was like a torrent, she approached one of these half-divine creatures as he slept and gazed upon him; but she, too, in her turn became horrified and quickly retraced her steps. Since that time she occasionally thought of the incident and was disturbed about things she did not understand. She began to gaze at herself and found herself mysterious. It was the time when she became sentimental and spent much time in weeping.
When the nights were clear she gazed at her reflection in the water. Once the thought came to her that it would be better for her to plait her hair like a serpent and so display the nape of her neck which the touch of her hand told her was beautiful. She chose a jewel for her hair and made herself a garland of the leaves of water-lilies and their blossoms.
At first she took pleasure in walking like this. But as she was alone there was none to gaze at her. Then she became unhappy and ceased to be amused.
Now her spirit did not know itself but her body awaited the beating of the Swan’s wings.