This was what the Methymnæans alleged. Daphnis was in sore plight from the blows which he had received; but seeing Chloe among the crowd, he rose superior to his pain, and spoke as follows:—
"I am, and always have been very careful of my herds. What neighbour can say that a goat of mine ever browsed upon his garden, or devoured any of his sprouting vines? It is these sportsmen who are themselves to blame, for having dogs so badly broken as to run wildly about making such a barking, and like so many wolves driving my sheep from hill and dale down to the sea. The poor brutes eat the vine branches; no wonder, for they could find no grass, nor shrubs, nor thyme upon the sands. The sea and the winds destroyed the boat; let the storm bear the blame and not my goats. They say, that they had left their clothes and money on board:—who, in his senses, can believe that a boat freighted with so much wealth, was intrusted to a vine branch for its cable?"
Daphnis said no more, but burst into tears, which moved all his countrymen with compassion. Philetas, the judge, swore by Pan and the Nymphs, that neither Daphnis nor his goats were in fault; that only the sea and the winds could be accused, and that they were not under his jurisdiction. This decision had no effect on the Methymnæans, who flew into a rage, and seizing Daphnis, were preparing to bind him. The villagers irritated at such behaviour, fell upon them as thick as starlings or rooks, and rescued Daphnis, who now began to fight in his own defence. In a very short time the Mitlyenæans, by dint of their clubs, put the strangers to flight, and did not desist from the pursuit, till they had driven them into a different quarter of the island.
While they were engaged in the pursuit, Chloe led Daphnis gently by the hand to the grotto of the Nymphs; there she washed the blood from his face and nostrils, and taking a slice of bread and cheese from her scrip, gave it him to eat. After she had thus refreshed him, she impressed a honeyed kiss with her tender lips.
So near was Daphnis getting into serious trouble; but the affair did not end here. The Methymnæans reached their own city with much pain and difficulty; for instead of sailing they had to travel on foot, and instead of every luxury, and convenience, they had nothing but bruises and wounds for their comfort. Immediately upon their arrival at home, they called an assembly of their fellow townsmen, and intreated them to take up arms to avenge their cause, which they represented in their own way, altogether concealing the real truth of the matter, for fear of being laughed at for having been so soundly beaten by a few shepherds. They accused the people of Mitylene of having seized their boat, as if it belonged to an enemy, and of plundering it of all its contents. Their wounds, which they exhibited, gained them belief among their countrymen, who resolved to avenge the cause of the young men, and more particularly as they belonged to the first families in the place. Accordingly they resolved to begin the war without the usual forms of proclamation, and ordered their naval commander to launch ten vessels immediately, and ravage the coasts of the enemy. As the winter was coming on they did not think it safe to hazard a larger fleet.
Early the very next day he put to sea; and employing his soldiers as rowers, steered his course to the shores of Mitylene. Here he seized numbers of cattle, a great quantity of corn and wine, (the vintage being lately ended,) together with the labourers who were still at work there. Thus plundering as they went, they landed at last on the estate where Daphnis and Chloe resided, and carried off whatever came to hand. Daphnis was not then tending his goats, but had gone to the wood, to cut green branches for the winter fodder of his kids. Looking down from the woods, he saw these ravages; and immediately hid himself in the hollow of a decayed beech tree. Chloe happened to be with the flocks; she fled in affright to the grotto of the Nymphs: and the invaders pursued her. Here she intreated them, if they had any respect to the deities of the place, to spare her and her flocks; but her prayers were of no avail; for the ravagers, after offering many insults to the statues of the goddesses, drove off the flocks, and hurried Chloe along with them, as if she had been one of her own goats or sheep, striking her ever and anon with vine twigs.
Their vessels being now filled with plunder of all kinds, the Methymnæans thought it advisable not to prosecute their voyage farther, but to return home, more especially as they were apprehensive of the winter storms, and of an attack from the inhabitants. Accordingly they put about; but, as there was no wind, they had to labour at their oars.
Daphnis, (when all was quiet) came down to the plain, the usual place for pasturing their flocks, but not a goat, nor a sheep was to be seen, nor was Chloe herself there: when he saw the whole place deserted, and found Chloe's pipe thrown upon the ground, he burst into loud and bitter lamentations:—he ran to the beech tree, which had been their usual seat, and then to the ocean, to try if he could descry her, he searched for her in the grotto, whither she had fled, and whence she had been dragged away. Here, at last, he threw himself on the ground in despair, and exclaimed against the Nymphs, as the deserters of his Chloe.
"Chloe has been torn away from you, ye Nymphs, and yet ye could endure to see it! she who has woven so many garlands for you, who has poured so many libations of new milk to you, and whose pipe is here suspended as an offering to you! Never did a wolf carry off a single goat of mine, but marauders have now carried away all my flock, and their mistress with them.—My goats will be flayed, my sheep will be sacrificed, and my Chloe will henceforth be confined within a city! how shall I venture to return to my father and mother without my goats, and without my Chloe?—I, who shall appear a deserter of my charge! I have no more flocks to tend, so here will I lie, till death take me, or the enemy again lay hold of me. Ah! my Chloe, do you share in my sufferings?—do you still remember these plains, these Nymphs and me; or are you consoled by having the sheep and goats for your companions in captivity?"
Thus did Daphnis vent his grief, till weary with weeping and lamenting he fell into a deep sleep. While slumbering, the three Nymphs appeared to stand before him; they were tall and beautiful, half-naked and without sandals; their hair flowed loose over their shoulders, and indeed in every respect they resembled their statues in the grotto. At first they shewed signs of commiseration for Daphnis, and, presently, the eldest of them addressed him in these consolatory words:—