After indulging in some such thoughts as these, he took up his game, and was preparing to depart, when, as if Love took pity on him, the following occurrence happened.
The family within had spread their table: the meat was portioned out; a slice of bread was placed for each, and the goblet was ready mixed. One of the sheep-dogs, who had watched his opportunity, when no person was observing him, seized a piece of meat, and made his escape. Dryas (for the stolen meat happened to be his portion) snatched up a club, and pursued the thief, following him up like a second dog. Daphnis had thrown the birds over his shoulder, and was just about hurrying away when Dryas espied him. At the sight of Daphnis he immediately forgot both meat and dog, called out after him, "Good morrow, my son!" ran to him, embraced him, took him by the hand, and led him into the house. When the lovers saw each other, they were very near sinking to the ground; however, they continued to support themselves, while they saluted and embraced: indeed their embrace acted as a stay, and prevented them from falling.
Having thus contrary to his expectation obtained an interview with his Chloe and a kiss, Daphnis drew nearer to the fire, and sat down: then taking the wood-pigeons and thrushes from his shoulder threw them upon the table, while he related to the family the weariness which he felt from so long and tedious a confinement at home, the eagerness with which he set out in pursuit of some sport, and the manner in which he caught the birds, some with a snare, some with birdlime, when they came in search of the myrtle and ivy berries. The family praised his activity, and compared him to "Apollo the far-darting;" and urged him to partake of what the dog had fortunately left; desiring Chloe in the mean time to pour him out wherewithal to drink. She cheerfully complied and handed the goblet to all the others first, last of all to Daphnis, pretending to be affronted with him, for having come thither and intending to go away without asking to see her: nevertheless, before holding the beaker out to him, she sipped[4] a little from it, and then presented it; upon which he, although thirsty, drank as leisurely as possible, in order to prolong his pleasure, by protracting his draught.
The table was soon cleared of the fragments of bread and meat: after which, as they were sitting by the fire, they began to inquire after Myrtale and Lamon, who were pronounced fortunate in having such an excellent provider for their old age. Daphnis was delighted at having these commendations pronounced upon him in the hearing of Chloe, and when her parents proceeded to insist upon his remaining with them till next day, when they intended to sacrifice to Bacchus, he was very nearly adoring them in lieu of the god. He immediately produced his store of honeyed cakes from his scrip, together with the birds, which he had caught, which they dressed for supper. A second goblet was mixed; and a second fire was lighted. Night soon came on, when they partook of a hearty meal; and at its conclusion, after telling stories, and singing songs, they retired to rest. Chloe slept with her mother, and Daphnis with Dryas. Chloe's only pleasure was the thought of seeing Daphnis the next morning; Daphnis enjoyed a kind of hollow satisfaction, even from sleeping with Chloe's father, whom he hugged and kissed, dreaming all the while, that the embraces were being bestowed upon Chloe.
When the day broke the cold was intense, and the sharp north wind was parching up every thing. Dryas and his family arose, sacrificed a ram of one year old to Bacchus, and lighted a large fire to boil the meat. Nape made the bread, while Dryas attended to the meat, and, while they were thus engaged, Daphnis and Chloe proceeded to the ivy-covered arbour, where they set snares and spread birdlime, and again caught no small quantity of birds. Kisses and delightful converse were continuously interchanged between them.
"I came hither entirely on your account, Chloe."
"I know it, my dear Daphnis."
"On your account it is that these poor blackbirds now perish; what place have I in your affections? Do think of me!"
"I do think of you, my Daphnis, I swear it by the Nymphs whom I once invoked in that Grotto, whither we will repair again so soon as the snow shall have melted."
"The snow lies very thick; I fear that I shall melt away, before it does."