"Upon hearing me thus address him, he burst into a merry laugh, and with a voice sweeter than that of the swallow or the nightingale, or of the swan when grown aged like myself, he replied: 'I grudge you not a kiss, Philetas, for I have more pleasure in being kissed, than you would have in growing young again; but consider whether the gift would suit your time of life; for, old as you are, one kiss would not satisfy you, nor prevent you from running after me, while if even a hawk, an eagle, or any other swifter bird, were to pursue me, it would pursue in vain. I am not the child which I appear to be; but I am older than Saturn, ay, older than Time himself. I knew you well, Philetas, when you were in the flower of your youth, and when you tended your widely-scattered flock in yonder marsh. I was near you, when you sat beneath those beech-trees, and were wooing your Amaryllis: I was close to the maiden, but you could not discern me. I gave her to you, and some fine boys, who are now excellent husbandmen and herdsmen, are the pledges of your love. At this present time I am tending Daphnis and Chloe like a shepherd; and when I have brought them together in the morning, I retire to your garden: here I disport myself among your flowers and plants, and here I bathe in your fountain. Through me it is that your flowers and shrubs are so beauteous, for the waters, which have bathed me, refresh them. Look now, if any of your plants be broken down!—see, if any of your fruit be plucked!—examine whether the stalk of any flower be crushed—or the clearness of any one of your fountains be disturbed! and rejoice that you alone, in your old age, have had the privilege of beholding the boy who is now before you.' With these words he sprang like the youngling of a nightingale among the myrtles, and climbing from bough to bough, ascended through the foliage to the summit of the tree. I observed wings upon his shoulders, and between them a tiny bow and arrows; but in a moment I could neither see him nor them. Unless I have grown grey in vain, unless I have got into my dotage in growing old, you may rely on me, when I assure you, that you are consecrate to LOVE, and that you are under his peculiar care."
Daphnis and Choe were delighted, but they regarded what they had heard as an amusing story rather than a sober fact; and inquired of Philetas who and what this LOVE could be? whether he were a boy or a bird? and of what powers he was possessed? "My young friends," said Philetas, "he is a god, young, beautiful, and ever on the wing. He rejoices, therefore, in the company of youth, he is ever in search of beauty, and adds wings to the souls of those he favours.[4] He has power far beyond that of Jove himself. He commands the elements, he rules the stars, and even the gods themselves, who are otherwise his equals;[5] your power over your flocks is nothing compared to his. All these flowers are the works of love: these plants are effects produced by him. Through him these rivers flow, and these zephyrs breathe. I have seen a bull smitten by his power, who bellowed as though breeze-stung.[6] I have seen the goat enamoured of the female, and following her everywhere. I myself was once young, I felt his influence, I loved Amaryllis. I thought not of my food, I cared not for my drink; I could take no rest, for sleep was banished from my eyelids. My soul was sad—my heart beat quick—my limbs felt a deadly chill. Now I cried aloud, as if I had been beaten; now I was as silent as if I were dead; and now I plunged into the rivers, as if to extinguish the flame which consumed me. I invoked Pan to assist me, inasmuch as he had known what it was to love his Pitys. I poured forth praises to the Nymph Echo for repeating the name of my Amaryllis: in anger I broke my pipe because it could soothe my herds, but could not prevail over Amaryllis; for there is no mighty magic against love; no medicine, whether in food or drink: nothing, in short, save kisses[7] and embraces, and the closest union of the naked body."
Philetas, having given them this information, bade them farewell; but before permitting him to depart, they presented him with a cheese, and a kid with newly budding horns.
Daphnis and Chloe, left to themselves, mused in silence upon the name of Love, which they had now heard for the first time. Sorrow seemed to have stupified them, till at night, as they returned home, they began to compare their own sensations with what they had heard from Philetas.
"According to Philetas, lovers are sad—so are we; they neglect their calling—so do we; they cannot sleep—no more can we. A fire appears to burn within them—we feel this fire; they long for the sight of one another—we, too, are always wishing for the day to dawn. Our disorder must be love, and we have loved each other without being aware of it. If this be not love, and if we be not mutually lovers, why are we thus sad? why do we so eagerly seek each other? All that Philetas has told us is true. The boy, whom he saw in the garden, is the same who appeared to our parents in the dream, and commanded that we should follow the pastoral life. How is it possible to catch the urchin? He is little and will escape from us. At the same time, who can escape from him? He has wings, and will pursue us. We must away to the Nymphs and implore their assistance. And yet Pan could not assist Philetas when in love with Amaryllis. We must seek the remedies which the old man suggested—kisses and embraces, and lying naked upon the grass; we shall feel it very cold, but we will bear what Philetas has borne before us." Thus were their thoughts employed during the night. The next morning, after driving their flocks to pasture, they for the first time kissed each other upon meeting, and afterwards mutually embraced.
The third remedy they were afraid of; the lying naked upon the grass appeared too bold a step for a maiden, nay, even for a youthful goatherd. Again, therefore, they passed a sleepless night, calling to mind what they had done, regretting what they had omitted. "We kissed," said they, "and are none the better; we embraced, and have found no relief. This lying side by side must needs be the sole remedy for love; assuredly it will prove more efficacious than the kiss and the embrace." As might have been expected, their dreams were akin to their daily thoughts. In sleep they kissed and they embraced; in sleep they did that which they had omitted to do during the day. Next morning they rose more than ever inflamed with passion, and hissed[8] along their flocks, all the while in anticipation of the kiss. They came in sight of one another, their faces mutually beaming with delight. Again there was repeated the kiss and the embrace; the remaining remedy was still untried, Daphnis being unwilling to propose it, and Chloe feeling the like hesitation. Chance came to their aid. They were sitting beside each other upon the trunk of a tree: having once tasted the luxury of a kiss, they were insatiable of its delight; they entwined one another in their arms, and so drew their bodies into closer contact. Daphnis, in the course of this embrace, straining Chloe more tightly to his bosom, she falls upon her side, and he falls with her, and thus acting out the image of their dreams, they long lay locked in each other's arms. Their innocence knew nothing beyond this; they imagined that love had nothing farther to bestow; so after fruitlessly passing the greater portion of the day in this manner, they separated, and drove home their flocks, loathing the approach of night. They might, perhaps, on a future occasion have become greater adepts in the mysteries of love, had not the following circumstance spread tumult and confusion throughout their neighbourhood.
Some rich young men of Methymna, who had formed a pleasure party for passing the vintage-season out of town, launched a small vessel, employing their servants as rowers, and shaped their course towards the fields of Mitylene, which lie near the sea-coast. They knew that there was an excellent harbour for them, with every thing adapted for their accommodation, as the shore was adorned with handsome houses, with baths, with gardens, and with groves, some of which were the productions of nature, and some of art.
Here the party arrived, and drew their boat into a safe place, after which they committed no acts of mischief, but amused themselves in various ways, with rod and line angling for rock-fish, which were found under the different promontories, or hunting the hares, which, terrified by the noise of the grape gatherers, had fled towards the shore, and capturing them by means of dogs and nets. Part of their amusement also was to set snares for birds: many wild ducks, wild geese and bustards were caught, so that their sport supplied their table in a great measure; and whatever addition they wanted was easily procured from the labourers in the fields, who were paid more than its worth for everything which they supplied. Their chief inconvenience was want of bread and wine, and a good lodging at night; for as it was late in the autumn, they did not think it safe to sleep on board their boat, but in apprehension of storms, usual at this season, were wont to draw it up on shore.
It so happened that a countryman had broken the old rope to which the stone was suspended for crushing his grapes after they had been trodden in the wine-press, and being in want of another to supply its place, had come clandestinely down to the sea-shore, and taking the cable from the boat, which was left without any one to watch it, had quietly conveyed it home to supply his need. The young Methymnæans, in the morning, made inquiries after their rope; but as no one confessed the theft, after venting their reproaches on this breach of hospitality, they launched their boat, and left that part of the coast. After sailing rather more than a league, they landed on the estate where Daphnis and Chloe dwelt. It appeared to them to be a good country for hare-hunting. Having no rope to serve as a cable, they twisted some vine-branches as a substitute, and tied the head of their boat to the shore: then let loose the dogs to scent about in the places most likely for game, and fixed their nets. The cry of the hounds, running hither and thither, frightened the goats, which fled from the mountains down to the sea-shore, where some of the boldest of the flock, finding no food upon the coast, approached the boat and gnawed the branches which were fastened as a cable.
At the same moment a swell set in, owing to the breezes blowing from the mountains. The motion of the waves began to carry off the boat, and, at length, bore it out to sea. The Methymnæans saw the accident: some of them ran in great haste down to the shore: others hastened to call the dogs together: and all of them cried out for assistance, in hopes of assembling the labourers from the neighbouring fields. It was all of no avail, for the wind increased, and the boat was driven down the current. When the Methymnæans found themselves thus deprived of it, and of the considerable property which it contained, they inquired for the goat-herd, and finding him to be Daphnis, they beat him severely and stripped him. One of them took a dog-leash, and bending Daphnis' arms behind his back, was preparing to bind him. Poor Daphnis, smarting with his beating, roared out for assistance: he called upon all his neighbours, but upon Lamon and Dryas in particular. The old men took his part stoutly: the toils of husbandry had made them hard handed; they demanded that an inquiry should be made agreeably to the rules of justice. The neighbours, who had now reached the spot, backed them in their demand, and appointed Philetas umpire in the business. He was the oldest man present, and was celebrated among the villagers for the equity of his decisions. The charge of the Methymnæans was made plainly and with conciseness suitable to the rustic judge before whom they pleaded. "We came here," said they, "to hunt, and fastened our boat to the shore with some vine-branches, while we roamed about with our dogs in search of game. In the meantime, this young man's goats came down to the coast and ate the fastening of our boat, which has proved the loss of it. You yourself, saw it driven out to sea, and what valuables think you it had on board? Why, store of clothes and of dog-gear, and of money—money enough to have purchased all these fields around us. In return for what we have lost, we have surely a right to carry off this heedless goatherd, who, sailor-fashion, chooses to pasture his goats on the sea-coast."