"Do not accuse us, Daphnis; Chloe is an object of deeper anxiety to us, than she is even to yourself. We had compassion on her when she was an infant; when she was exposed in this grot, we adopted her and bred her up. She is not Lamon's daughter, nor do Lamon's fields or herds in any part belong to her. We have at this time been providing for her safety, so that she shall not be taken to Methymne as a slave, nor be numbered among the spoils. We have intreated Pan, (whose statue stands beneath yonder pine, and whom you have never honoured even with a bunch of flowers) to come forward as Chloe's champion, for he is more used to warfare than we are, and has often quitted his rural groves to join in the din of battle. He is on Chloe's side, and he will be found no despicable enemy by the Methymnæans. Be not uneasy then, nor perplex yourself; arise, shew yourself to Lamon and Myrtale, who have thrown themselves on the earth in despair, under the idea that you too are carried off by the enemy. To-morrow Chloe and her flocks shall return, when you shall tend them together, and together shall play upon your pipe.—Leave your future fates to the care of Love."
After these words and vision in his dream, Daphnis sprang up, and, while his eyes were filled with tears, partly of grief and partly of joy, he paid his adorations to the statues of the Nymphs, and vowed, that upon Chloe's safe return he would sacrifice a she-goat (the best of his herd) to the protecting goddesses. Then he hastened to the pine, beneath whose shade stood the statue of Pan. The legs of the rural god were those of the goat, and he had a horned forehead; in one hand he held a pipe, with the other he grasped a goat, which was in the attitude of bounding. Daphnis adored his statue likewise, prayed on behalf of Chloe, and vowed to sacrifice a he-goat for her safety. Scarcely could he cease from his tears and intreaties by sun-set, when taking up the green fodder which he had been cutting, he returned to his home, where his presence dispelled Lamon's grief and filled him with joy, After taking some refreshment he retired to rest; but his sleep was not even then without tears. In his slumbers he poured forth prayers to the Nymphs to bless him with another vision, and sighed for the return of day, when his Chloe was to be restored.—Of all nights this appeared to him the longest.—During its continuance the following events took place:—
When the Methymnæan commander had rowed somewhat more than a mile, he wished to afford his men some rest, wearied as they were with their past exertions. At length he espied a promontory, which projected into the sea in a semicircular form, affording a harbour more calm and secure than even a regular port. Here he anchored his fleet, keeping his vessels at a distance from the shore, that they might not be exposed to any attack from the inhabitants, while his men indulged themselves at their ease and in all security. The crews having plenty of all manner of provision among their plunder, eat and drank and gave themselves up to joy, as if they had been celebrating a festival for victory. The day was closing; and their merriment was being prolonged to night, when suddenly all the earth appeared in a blaze; and the dash of oars was heard, as if a mighty fleet were approaching.[9] They called upon their commander to arm himself: they shouted to each other; some fancied that they were wounded; others that they saw the bodies of the slain before their eyes. It appeared like a night engagement against an invisible enemy.
A day of greater terror succeeded to the darkness. The goats belonging to Daphnis, appeared with branches full of ivy berries on their horns: the rams and ewes, which had been taken with Chloe, instead of bleating, howled like wolves. Their mistress was seen to have a garland of pine-leaves round her head. The sea also had its marvels. The anchors stuck fast in the mud, and could not be drawn up: when the men dipped their oars in order to row, they were shattered in pieces. The dolphins leaped from the sea, and with their tails broke the planks of the vessels. From the top of the rock behind the promontory the sound of a pipe was heard: but it did not, like the pipe, delight the ear with dulcet sounds, but terrified like the harsh blast of a trumpet. The men of Methymna were confounded; they seized their arms, and called out to their enemies who were invisible; they prayed for the return of night, which might bring a truce to their terrors.
To all those who were capable of reflection, it was evident, that these phantasms and sounds proceeded from Pan, who must have conceived some cause of indignation against them: but what the cause could be, they were at a loss to conjecture, for they had not plundered any thing which was sacred to the god. About the middle of the day their commander (not without the intervention of the god) fell into a deep sleep, when Pan appeared to him and addressed him thus:
"Ο most abandoned, most impious of men, to what lengths has your madness driven you! The fields, which are dear to me, ye have filled with the tumults of war: the herds and the flocks, which were my peculiar care, ye have taken as plunder. Ye have dragged a virgin from the altar, whom Cupid had reserved in order to adorn a Tale of Love. Ye regarded not the Nymphs, who beheld your deeds, nor even the mighty Pan. Never shall ye reach Methymna, sailing with these spoils, nor shall yourselves escape the terrors of the pipe which has thus confounded you. Unless ye immediately give back Chloe to the Nymphs, and restore her goats and sheep, I will submerge you and ye shall become food for fishes. Bestir yourselves, therefore, land both her and them, I will guide your course by sea, and hers by land."
Bryaxis (for such was the commander's name) awoke from his dream, and immediately ordered the captain of every vessel to search among his prisoners for Chloe. They soon found her, for she was sitting still crowned with pine-leaves, and brought her before him. Bryaxis regarded the ornament on her head as a proof and confirmation of what he had seen in the vision, and without delay took her on board his own vessel,[10] and conveyed her safe to the shore. No sooner had she landed than the sound of the pipe was again heard from the rock: but it was no longer dreadful like the blast of the war trumpet: on the contrary it was sweet and pastoral in tone, as when the shepherd is leading out his flock to feed. The sheep ran down the gangway,[11] without their horny hoofs slipping. The goats, used to steep places, proceeded still more venturesomely. Upon reaching the shore the flocks formed themselves in a ring around Chloe, like a company of dancers, skipping and bleating and exhibiting every symptom of joy; while the sheep and goats and oxen belonging to the other shepherds remained quiet in the holds of the vessels, as if knowing that the pipe, which sounded, was not intended to summon them. While every one was struck with astonishment, and celebrated the power of Pan, still stranger sights appeared both by sea and land.
Before the crews had time to heave their anchors, the ships of themselves began to make sail, and a dolphin, which leaped and played on the waves, swam before the admiral's ship as guide. On the other hand Chloe's goats and sheep were led by most ravishing music of the pipe, which continued its notes, though the player was invisible: sheep and goats continued to graze and pace gently onward listening with delight to the melody.
It was the time of evening-pasture, when Daphnis from the summit of a rock espied his Chloe and her flocks. Ο Pan! Ο ye Nymphs! he shouted in rapture, and hurrying down into the plain threw himself into Chloe's arms, fainted, and fell to the ground. The kisses and soothing embraces of the maiden with some difficulty restored him to his senses, after which he proceeded to their favourite beech-tree, under the shade of which he sat down, and inquired how Chloe had escaped from so many enemies. She related everything which had happened—the appearance of the ivy around the goats' horns—the wolfish howling of the sheep—the pine garland encircling her own temples—the blaze of fire on the land—the unwonted noise at sea—the two discordant notes of the pipe—that of war and that of peace—the terrors of the night—and lastly, how the melody guided her hither, through fields and over plains to which she was a stranger. Upon hearing this, Daphnis recognized the vision of the Nymphs, and the influence of Pan, and in his turn, he gave Chloe an account of all which he had seen and heard. He informed her how when ready to destroy himself, he had been preserved through the intervention of the Nymphs.
He then sent Chloe to summon Dryas and Lamon with their servants and to desire them to bring every requisite for a sacrifice, while he in the mean time took the choicest of his she-goats, crowned it with ivy (just as it had appeared to the enemy on board of ship) poured milk between its horns, and sacrificed it to the Nymphs. Then he hung it up and flayed it, and suspended its skin as an offering to them.