.... "Is not love a Hercules,
Still climbing trees in the Hesperides?"—Shakspeare.
[BOOK IV.]
One of Lamon's neighbours, who was a fellow serf under the same lord, called in his way from Mitylene, and informed him that their master intended coming just before the vintage, to see whether the incursion of the Methymnæans had done any damage to his lands. The summer was now closing, and autumn approaching very fast; Lamon, therefore, immediately began to put the house in such order as might, in every respect, please his master's eyes. He cleansed the fountains, that the water might be pure; carried the manure out of the yard, that the smell might not be offensive; and trimmed his garden, that all its beauty might be seen.
His garden was indeed a beautiful one, and laid out in a princely style. It was situated on high ground, and was five hundred feet in length, while in breadth it contained four acres, so that one might have supposed it an extensive plain. In it were all kinds of trees,—the apple, the myrtle, the pear, the pomegranate, the fig, the olive, which grew here in perfection. On one side of this garden was a lofty vine, whose branches, laden with blackening grapes, were suspended above the apple and pear trees, as if vying with them in the show of fruit. Such were the cultivated trees. There were also cypresses, laurels, planes, and pines, over which an ivy instead of a vine stretched out her branches, with berries in size and colour resembling grapes.
The fruit-trees occupied the interior space. Those which did not bear fruit were ranged on the outside, serving the purpose of an artificial fence; and the whole was inclosed by a slight hedge. All were placed in a strict and regular order,[1] so that their trunks were perfectly distinct one from the other, but at a certain height their branches met, and intermingled their leaves with a regularity which, though the work of nature, appeared to be the effect of art. Here were also beds of various flowers, some of which were cultivated plants, and some the spontaneous production of the soil. The rose bushes,[2] hyacinths, and lilies had been planted by the hand of man, the violets, the narcissus, and the pimpernel sprang naturally from the ground. There was shade for summer, flowers for spring, fruits for autumn, and for all seasons of the year enjoyment.
From this garden was to be had a fine view of the plains with the herds and flocks which grazed upon them; as well as of the sea, and of the ships, as they were sailing along, so that the prospect was no small portion of the beauty of the place. Exactly in the middle there was a temple and an altar, dedicated to Bacchus. An ivy encircled the altar, and a vine extended its branches round the temple; on the interior the events in the history of the god were represented. The delivery of Semele, Ariadne sleeping, Lycurgus fettered, Pentheus torn in pieces,[3] the victories over the Indians, and the metamorphosis of the Tyrrhenian sailors. On all sides were Satyrs and Bacchantes dancing. Nor was Pan omitted; he was represented sitting upon a rock, and playing upon his pipe an air intended equally to regulate the motions of the men as they trod the grapes, and of the women as they danced.
Such was the garden, which Lamon was busy in getting into order, cutting away dead wood, and raising the branches of the vines. He crowned the statue of Bacchus with flowers, he conducted water from the fountain discovered by Daphnis, for the flowers, which was used exclusively for them, and was called Daphnis's Fountain. Lamon also charged the youth to get his goats into as good condition as possible, since their master would certainly visit and examine them after his long absence from the farm. Upon this head Daphnis felt confident that he should be praised; for the herd, which he had received in charge, was increased twofold: not one of them had been seized by a wolf, and they were already fatter than sheep. Wishing to do everything which might render his master favourable to his marriage, he exerted all his care and activity, driving them to pasture very early, and returning very late, leading them to the water twice every day, and choosing for them the richest pastures. He also took care to provide fresh bowls,[4] many new milk-pails, and larger cheese-racks. Such was his attention to his goats, that he even oiled their horns, and curried their hair, and they might have been supposed to be the sacred herd of Pan. Chloe shared in all his toil, neglecting her own flock, that she might be of greater assistance to him, which caused Daphnis to attribute the beauty of his herd entirely to her.
While occupied in this manner, a second messenger came from the city, with orders for them to get in their vintage as soon as possible; he said he should remain there until they had made some of the new wine, after which he should return to Mitylene, and bring their master, at the end of the vintage season. Lamon and his family received Eudromus, the runner (for his name was derived from his employment) with a hearty welcome, and immediately began to strip the vines, to put the grapes in the vats, and the must in the casks; reserving some of the finest clusters with their branches, in order that those also who came out of the city might form some idea of the vintage, and its pleasures.