Read the book: «Daphnis and Chloe»
Longus
Daphnis and Chloe
Published by Good Press, 2022
EAN 4064066467012
Table of Contents
Cover
Titlepage
Text
Daphnis and Chloe (The 1890 Vizetelly Translation)
Table of Contents
Daphnis and Chloe A Pastoral Romance Translated from the Greek of Longus
Vizetelly & Co., 16 Henrietta Street, Covent Garden, London 1890
(vii>) Translator’s Preface
Many of the masterpieces of modern literature rest upon a classical foundation and it is not surprising that Bernardin de Saint-Pierre should have borrowed the idea of 'Paul and Virginia' from Longus's 'Daphnis and Chloe.' It has been remarked that, so far as moral tone and elevation of sentiment are concerned, there is some analogy between Saint-Pierre's renowned masterpiece and Dio Chrysostom's so-called 'Euboean Story.' This may be admitted, but it is probably only a fortuitous coincidence, whereas the points of resemblance between the romance of Mauritius and the legend of Lesbos are so striking and numerous that the one can only have been based upon the other. Both tales describe the dawn and progress of love in the hearts of an unsophisticated youth and girl. In either case the budding sensations and sentiments of the lovers are the same. When Saint-Pierre describes Virginia awakening to a sense of the tender passion, he employs very much the same language as (viii>) Longus in regard to Chloe. No doubt this is but a repetition of the eternal theme, as old as the world itself; but, again, in regard to the simple lives led by the heroes and heroines of the respective tales, their rustic occupations and amusements, many striking points of resemblance may be traced. M. Villemain in his well-known 'Essai sur les Romans Grecs, ' has instituted an elaborate comparison between the two stories, and to this the curious upon the subject may be referred. Villemain not unnaturally placed Saint-Pierre's romance above Longus's pastoral; but Goethe, it should be remembered, bestowed the palm upon the latter. However, whatever analogy may exist between the two stories, it is somewhat unfair to judge them side by side. In one important particular they are essentially different. The ethics of Longus's pastoral are pagan, whereas those of Saint-Pierre's narrative are inspired by the principles of Christianity.
Of the author of 'Daphnis and Chloe' very little indeed is known. Longus is not mentioned by either Photius or Suidas, who have preserved the names of so many Hellenic writers of romance, and some critics have assumed that he never existed, contending that a Greek author could not have borne a Latin name. From a remark prefixed to one of the most ancient manuscript copies of 'Daphnis and Chloe,' it would appear, however, that Longus did exist and that he was a sophist, one of those disputative philosophers who were distinguished for their subtleties and false axioms. There our information ends, meagre no doubt, but as full as that which we possess with regard to various other classic authors, whose names are equally famous.
In the original Greek 'Daphnis and Chloe' is written in an elegant but affected style, the author not only abusing of antithesis and reiteration, but frequently indulging in a play upon words, as is usual with writers of a period of decline. (ix>)
These and other characteristics of the text have led critics to assume that Longus lived in the fourth century of our era, probably during the reign of Theodosius the Great. His tale would appear to have exercised considerable influence upon subsequent Greek romances, both in regard to incident and style; and it is also said to have suggested the modern pastorals, particularly those which appeared in Italy in the sixteenth century. On this last point critics differ in opinion, but Dunlop has shown that the argument against the suggestion, based on the fact that the Greek text of the tale was never printed till close upon the seventeenth century, is of very little weight; for a French version of the pastoral had appeared in 1559, and a Latin one had been issued in Italy ten years later. Moreover, with regard to such pastoral pieces, either in the dramatic or narrative form, as appeared in Italy prior to 1559, it may be observed that manuscript copies of the Greek romance existed in various libraries, at Florence, Rome, and elsewhere, and, to these such writers as D'Urfé, Montemayor, Beccari, and Tasso may possibly have had access.
With regard to its influence upon English literature, Dunlop has pointed out that there is considerable analogy between Longus's pastoral and Ramsay's 'Gentle Shepherd' — the plot of which was suggested to Ramsay by a friend who had derived it from 'Daphnis and Chloe.' It may also be mentioned that Fletcher's 'Faithful Shepherdess'—which in its turn suggested many passages of Milton's 'Comus' — was indirectly derived from Longus, being based upon the 'Pastor Fido' of Guarini, which is known to have been borrowed from the Greek story. Chloe, a model of fidelity in Longus's narrative, becomes, it is true, a thorough wanton in Fletcher's 'tragi-comedy.' Indeed, so far as the characters and incidents introduced into the two compositions are concerned there is little or no resemblance between them; nevertheless, it is more than probable that, (x>) but for the Lesbian tale, one of the most delightful pastorals of our literature would never have been written.
It was Jacques Amyot, afterwards Bishop of Auxerre and Grand Almoner of France, who first rendered Longus's story into a living European language. Since his time fifty editions of the Greek text, and as many editions of translations in various tongues, have issued from the press, testifying to the interest of the work for scholars, and to its popularity among readers in all parts of the civilized world. Amyot's version, first printed in 1559, and couched in quaint yet graceful French, long enjoyed a high reputation among men of letters. Based, however, upon an incomplete manuscript copy of the Greek text it was necessarily imperfect, and the same may be said of all the other translations that appeared prior to 1809.
The first Greek edition of the pastoral — still incomplete but containing various passages that did not appear in Amyot's work — was published at Florence in 1598; and during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries numerous scholars of well-nigh every nationality in Europe occupied themselves in examining and comparing all the known manuscript copies of the work, and in editing improved versions of the original text. Still, none of these were perfect, the narrative being interrupted in the first book of the tale by a 'hiatus deflendus' which it seemed impossible to supply. In 1809, however, Paul Louis Courier, whilst making some researches in the Laurentian Library at Florence, discovered there a manuscript copy of the story containing the very passage which was deficient in all the other known versions, and the absence of which had for centuries excited the curiosity and baffled the learning of scholars. Courier's discovery caused a great stir in the world of letters, and many would have liked to verify it. But this did not prove practicable, (xi>) for scarcely had Courier transcribed the passage in question when he himself obliterated it by an unfortunate accident with his pen and ink.
Never did blot — a huge one, it is true — provoke a greater outcry or more wrangling. Napoleon was at that time changing the face of Europe, promenading an ever victorious army from one capital city to another. But scholars paid little heed to the feats of the French arms. Their great concern was Courier and his discovery, and especially that terrible blot which prevented them from verifying his transcription of the Greek text. The wrangling lasted for many years: whilst the attention of the world was claimed in turn by Wagram, Moscow, and Leipzig, Elba, Waterloo, and St. Helena, there were for Greek scholars but two subjects of interest — the pillage of the Parthenon by Lord Elgin and the blot which had obliterated that long missing passage in 'Daphnis and Chloe.'
It is possible, of course, that Courier may have made some trifling mistakes in his transcription of the original; but that he was a first-rate Greek scholar — and consequently fairly worthy of confidence in this matter of the obliterated passage — was afterwards shown by the skilful manner in which he remodelled Amyot's translation of the pastoral — producing not only a more complete but also a more faithful French version of the work than any previously attempted. Nowadays this version of Courier's is the one most usually read in France.
The story of 'Daphnis and Chloe' was first rendered into our own language by George Thornley as far back as 1657; in 1764 another translation of it was made by James Craggs, and in 1803 a third English version appeared - the work of the Rev. C. V. Le Grice, who issued it anonymously, with a dedication to Robert Bloomfield, author of 'The Farmer's Boy.' It is upon this latter version that the present edition (xii>) is based. A rendering of the fragment subsequently discovered by Courier has been duly inserted together with other passages omitted from the Le Grice edition, so that the story as here given will be found virtually complete. It may be mentioned, however, that the language of Longus has, in certain instances, been very considerably chastened.
With regard to the illustrations of the present volume the page engravings are from the designs of the famous French artists Prudhon and Gérard, originally made for the 'Amyot edition' of the pastoral published by Pierre Didot in 1800, while the head and tailpieces are reproductions of the plates designed by the Regent, Philip of Orleans, for the edition which he caused to be issued in 1718.
Daphnis and Chloe
Author’s Proem
In the island of Lesbos, whilst hunting in a wood sacred to the Nymphs, I beheld the most beauteous sight that I have seen in all my life — a painting which represented the incidents of a tale of love. The grove itself was charming; it contained no lack of flowers, trees thick with foliage and a cool spring, which nourished alike trees and flowers. But the picture was more pleasing than aught else, by reason both of its amorous character and its marvellous workmanship. So excellently was it wrought indeed that the many (2>) strangers who had heard speak of it came thither to render worship to the Nymphs and to view it. Women in the throes of childbirth were depicted in it, nurses wrapping infants in swathing clothes, little babes exposed to the mercy of Fortune, animals suckling them, shepherds carrying them away, young people exchanging vows of love, pirates at sea, a hostile force scouring the country; with many other incidents, all amorous, which I viewed with so much pleasure and found so beautiful that I felt desirous of recording them in writing. Accordingly I sought for someone who could fully explain them to me, and having been informed of everything I composed these four books, which I dedicate as an offering to Cupid, to the Nymphs and to Pan; hoping that the tale will prove acceptable to many classes of people, inasmuch as it may serve to cure illness, console grief, refresh the memory of him who has already loved, and instruct him who as yet knows not what love is. Never was there and never will there be a man able to resist love, so long as beauty exists in the world and there are eyes to behold it.
The Gods grant that, whilst describing the emotions of others, I may remain undisturbed myself. (3>)
Book 1
Mitylene is a beautiful and extensive city of Lesbos intersected by various channels of the sea flowing through and around it, and adorned with bridges of polished white stone. You might imagine on beholding it that it was a collection of islets rather than a city. About twenty-four miles from Mitylene a rich man had an estate, none finer than which could be found in all the surrounding country. The neighbouring woods abounded with game, the fields yielded corn, the hillocks were covered with vines, there was pasture land for the herds, and the whole was bounded by the sea, which washed an extensive smooth and sandy shore.
In this estate whilst a goatherd named Lamon was tending his herds in the fields, he found a little child whom one of his she-goats was suckling. There was here a dense thicket of brakes and brambles covered with intermingling branches of ivy, whilst, underneath, the soil was carpeted with soft fine grass upon which the infant was lying. To this spot the she-goat often betook herself, abandoning her own kid and remaining with the child, so that it was not known what had become of her. Lamon, who was (4>) grieved to see the kid neglected, watched the dam's movements, and one day when the sun was burning in his meridian heat he followed her and saw her softly enter the thicket, stepping carefully over the child so that she might not injure it, whilst the babe took hold of her udder as if this had been its mother's breast. Greatly surprised and advancing close to the spot, Lamon discovered that the infant was a male child with well proportioned limbs and handsome countenance, and wearing richer attire than seemed suited to such an outcast; for its little mantle was of fine purple and fastened by a golden clasp, whilst near it lay a small knife with a handle of ivory.
At first Lamon resolved to leave the infant to its fate, and only to carry off the tokens which had been left with it; but he soon felt ashamed of showing himself less humane than his goat, and at the approach of night he took up the infant and the tokens, and, with the she-goat following him, went home to Myrtale his wife.
Myrtale, who was astonished at the sight, asked if goats now gave birth to babes instead of kids; whereupon her husband recounted to her every particular of the discovery, saying how he had found the child (5>) lying on the grass and the goat suckling it, and how ashamed he had felt at the idea of leaving the babe to perish. His wife declared that it would have been wrong to do so, and they thereupon agreed to conceal the tokens and to adopt the child. They employed the goat as his nurse, affirmed on all sides that he was their own offspring, and in order that his name might accord with their rustic condition they called him Daphnis.
Two years had elapsed, when Dryas, a neighbouring shepherd, met with a similar adventure whilst tending his flock. In this part of the country there was a grotto called the Grotto of the Nymphs, which was hollowed out of a large rock rounded at the summit. Inside there were statues of the Nymphs carved in stone; their feet bare, their arms also naked, their hair flowing loosely upon their shoulders, their waists girt, their faces smiling and their attitudes similar to those of a troop of dancers. In the deepest part of the grotto a spring gurgled from the rock, and its waters spreading into a copious stream refreshed the soft and abundant herbage of a delightful meadow that stretched before the entrance, where milkpails, transverse flutes, flageolets and pastoral pipes were (6>) suspended — the votive offerings of many an old shepherd.
An ewe of Dryas's flock, which had lately lambed, frequently resorted to this grotto, raising apprehensions that she was lost. The shepherd, to prevent her straying in future and to keep her with the flock, as previously, twisted some green osiers so as to form a noose, and went to seize her in the grotto. But upon his arrival there he beheld a sight far contrary to his expectation. He found his ewe presenting, with all the tenderness of a real mother, her udder to an infant, which, without uttering the faintest cry, eagerly turned its clean and glossy face from one teat to the other, the ewe licking it as soon as it had had its fill. This child was a girl and, in addition to the garments in which it was swathed, it had, by way of tokens to ensure recognition, a head-dress wrought with gold, gilt sandals, and golden anklets.
Dryas imagined that this foundling was a gift from the Gods and, inclined to love and pity by the example of his ewe, he raised the infant in his arms, placed the tokens in his bag, and invoked the blessing of the Nymphs upon the charge which he had received from them; and when the time came for driving his (7>) cattle from their pasture, he returned to his cottage, and related all the circumstances of his discovery to his wife, exhibiting the foundling and entreating her to observe secrecy, and to regard and rear the child as her own daughter.
Nape (for so his wife was called), at once adopted the infant, for which she soon felt a strong affection, being stimulated thereto, perhaps, by a desire to excel the ewe in tenderness. She declared herself a mother, and in order to obtain credit for her story, she gave the child the pastoral name of Chloe.
Daphnis and Chloe grew rapidly, and their comeliness far exceeded the common appearance of rustics. The former had completed his fifteenth year and Chloe her thirteenth, when on the same night a vision appeared to Lamon and Dryas in a dream. They each thought that they beheld the Nymphs of the grotto, where the fountain played and where Dryas had found the little girl, presenting Daphnis and Chloe to a young boy of very sprightly gait and beautiful mien, who had wings on his shoulders, and who carried a little bow and some arrows in his hand. The urchin lightly touched the young people with one of his shafts, and commanded them to devote (8>) themselves to a pastoral life. To Daphnis he gave the charge of goats, whilst to Chloe he committed the care of sheep.
When this vision appeared to the shepherd and the goatherd they were grieved to think that their adopted children should like themselves be destined to tend animals. From the tokens found with the infants, they had augured for the latter a better fortune, and in this expectation they had brought them up in a more delicate manner, and had procured for them more instruction and accomplishments than usually fall to the lot of shepherds' offspring.
It appeared to them, however, that with regard to children whom the Gods had preserved, the will of the Gods must be obeyed; and, each having communicated his dream to the other, they repaired to the grotto, offered up a sacrifice to the companion of the Nymphs, 'the winged boy,' with whose name they were unacquainted, and then sent the youth and maiden forth into the fields, having, however, first instructed them in their pastoral duties. They taught them for instance, whither they should guide their herds before the noon-day heat, whither they should conduct them when it had abated,— at what time it (9>) was meet to lead them to the stream, and at what hour they should drive them home to the fold. They showed them also in which instances the use of the crook was required, and in which the voice alone would suffice.
The young people received the charge of the sheep and goats with as much exultation as if they had acquired some powerful sovereignty, and felt more affection for their animals than shepherds usually feel: for Chloe reflected that she owed her preservation to an ewe, and Daphnis remembered that a she-goat had suckled him.
It was then the beginning of spring. In the woods and meadows, and on the mountains the flowers were blooming amid the buzzing murmurs of the bees, the warbling of the birds, and the bleating of the lambs. The sheep were skipping on the slopes, the bees flew humming through the meadows, and the songs of the birds resounded among the bushes. All nature joined in rejoicing at the springtide, and Daphnis and Chloe, young and susceptible as they were, imitated whatever they saw or heard. Hearing the carols of the birds, they sang; at sight of the playful skipping of the lambs (10>) they danced; and in imitation of the bees they gathered flowers, some of which they placed in their bosoms, whilst with others they wove chaplets which they carried as offerings to the Nymphs.
They tended their flocks and herds together, and carried on all their avocations in common. Daphnis frequently collected such of the sheep as had strayed, and if a goat ventured too near a precipice Chloe drove it back. Sometimes one took the entire management both of the goats and the sheep, whilst the other was engaged in some amusement. Their sports were of a childish, pastoral character; Chloe would neglect her flock to roam in search of day-lilies, the stalks of which she twisted into traps for locusts; while Daphnis often played from morn till eve upon a pipe, which he had formed of slender reeds, perforating them between their joints, and securing them together with soft wax. The young folks now often shared their milk and wine, and made a common meal of the food which they had brought from home as provision for the day; and the sheep might sooner have been seen to disperse and browse apart, than Daphnis to separate himself from Chloe. (11>)
Whilst they were thus intent on their childish amusements, Love devised a scheme to interrupt their sports. Frequent depredations had been made among the neighbouring flocks by a she-wolf, who had carried off a large number of lambs as food for the whelps which she had but lately dropped. Upon this the villagers assembled by night and dug several pits, six feet in width and twenty-four in depth. The greater part of the loose soil dug out of these pits was carried to a distance and scattered about, the remainder being spread over some long dry sticks which were laid across the mouth of the pits, so that the spot might have a level and natural appearance as previously. But the sticks were weaker than straws, so that if merely a hare should run over them they would break and reveal the fact that there was but a show of soil and no firm ground. The villagers dug many of these pits both in the mountains and in the plains, but the wolf scented the snare, and they were unable to catch her. Many of their own goats and sheep, however, were killed by falling into these pits, and Daphnis himself very narrowly escaped death.
It happened as follows: two he-goats, belonging (12>) to his herd, were jealous of one another, and at last engaged in fight, butting at each other so violently that one of them had a horn broken, and ran away in great pain, bellowing loudly. The victor pursued as fast as the other fled, as if determined not to leave his foe in peace; and Daphnis, vexed to see that his goat's horn was broken and that the conqueror was not content with having thus injured him, took up his crook, and darted after the pursuer. Daphnis hurried on in such hot wrath and the goat fled in such trepidation, that neither of them observed what lay in their path, and they both fell into one of the pits, the goat first and Daphnis afterwards. This was the means of preserving the latter's life, the animal serving him as a support in his fall. Poor Daphnis, at the bottom of the pit, began to lament his sad mishap with tears, anxiously hoping that some one would pass by, and draw him out. Chloe, who had observed the accident, hastened to the spot, and finding that her companion was still alive, she called a cowherd from an adjacent field to come to his assistance. The herdsman obeyed the summons, but upon looking for a rope for the purpose of drawing Daphnis out, none was to be found: upon which (13>) Chloe unfastened the cord which bound her hair, and gave it to the herdsman who let one end of it down to Daphnis. Then the herdsman and Chloe, holding the other end of the cord, placed themselves at the edge of the pit, and pulled as strongly as they could, whilst Daphnis climbed up as well as he was able, and at last was extricated from his prison.
They then drew up the unfortunate goat, who had had both his horns broken by the fall, thus suffering a just punishment for his revengeful persecution of his defeated fellow-combatant; and they gave him to the herdsman as a reward for his assistance and agreed between themselves that, if the family at home should inquire after the animal, they would say that he had been carried off by the wolf.
After this they returned to their goats and sheep, and finding them browsing quietly and orderly, they sat down at the foot of an oak tree and began to examine whether Daphnis had received any injury. They found no hurt or blood upon him, but there was a quantity of mud and dirt about his hair and indeed his whole person, and he thought it would be best to cleanse himself, lest Lamon and Myrtale should suspect what had befallen him. Accordingly, (14>) he proceeded with Chloe to the spring, in the grotto of the Nymphs, and, having given her his tunic and scrip in charge, repaired to the water's edge to wash his hair and person.
His locks were as black as ebony and fell upon his neck which the sun had tanned; but one might have imagined that it was the shadow of his hair that thus darkened the colour of his skin. As Chloe looked at him it occurred to her that he was very handsome; and as this idea had never occurred to her before, she attributed his comeliness to the effects of the bath. She washed his back and shoulders for him, and whilst she did so, his skin seemed to her to be so fine and soft that more than once, unobserved by him, she touched herself, doubting which of them had the softer and more delicate skin.
As it was getting late when they left the grotto, the sun being already very low, they drove their goats and sheep homeward, and from that time forth, the one longing in Chloe's mind was to see Daphnis bathe again. When they returned on the morrow (15>) to the pasture, Daphnis, seated under an oak as usual, played his pipe and looked at his goats, which were lying down, listening apparently to the strains. Chloe, seated near him, could see her sheep browsing, but she more frequently turned her eyes upon Daphnis, who was playing the pipe; and, as she gazed at him, she again found him very handsome. Thinking it was the music that now gave him a comely look, she took the pipe from him and played upon it in hopes that by doing so she herself would appear beautiful. Finally, she urged him to bathe again, and whilst he bathed she watched him and could not abstain from touching his skin. Then, on her way homeward in the evening, she thought of him admiringly; and that thought was the beginning of love.
Daphnis soon became the only person whom she thought of and cared for, and everything spoke of him to her. This simple maid, brought up in the fields, and ignorant even of the very name of love, could not have expressed what she felt, but her heart was heavy, and, despite herself, her eyes very often filled with tears. She spent days without taking food and nights without obtaining sleep; she laughed and (16>) wept by turns; she would doze and suddenly awake with a start; she would turn pale and immediately afterwards her cheeks became suffused with a blaze. A cow stung by a dunfly is not so distracted as she was. From time to time she fell into a sort of reverie, and when she was quite alone she would reason thus:
"I am ill, and yet I do not know my complaint. I suffer, and yet I bear no wound. I feel afflicted, and yet I have not lost any one of my sheep. I burn, although I am seated in the deep shade. How many times have the brambles torn my skin and yet I did not cry? How many bees have pricked me with their stings and yet I was soon cured? Thus that which has now wounded me in the heart must be keener than all those! It is true that Daphnis is handsome, but he is not the only one that is comely. His cheeks are rosy, no doubt, but so are the flowers; he sings, but so do the birds. And yet after seeing the flowers and hearing the birds I no longer think of them as I think of him. Ah! Would that I were his pipe so that I might touch his lips! Would that I were his little kid that he might take me in his arms! O cruel fountain that hast rendered him so handsome, canst thou not beautify me as well? O Nymphs! You (17>) leave me to die — me, whose birth you witnessed, and whom you beheld living here among you! But when I am gone, who will make you garlands and nosegays, and who will take care of you, my little lambs? And you, also, my pretty locust, whom I caught with so much trouble? Alas! What does it now avail that you should chirp in the noontide heat? Your song can no longer lull me to rest beneath the grottoes; Daphnis has robbed me of sleep!"
Thus did the suffering maiden speak and sigh, trying to understand what fire it was that she experienced, but unable even to tell its name.
However, Dorcon, the herdsman, who had extricated Daphnis and the goat from the pit, a young fellow upon whose chin the first down was just sprouting, had already, on the occasion of that meeting, become enamoured of Chloe, and his passion for her increased day by day. Paying little heed to Daphnis, who seemed to him but a child, he resolved to try everything — presents, artifice, and, if need were, even force — to win her; and he was the more determined, since he already knew the meaning of love. He first made presents to them both. To Daphnis he gave a shepherd's pipe, the nine reeds of which were secured (18>) together with metal instead of wax — and to the maiden, a fawn's skin, covered with white spots, such as is worn by the Bacchantes, and suitable for Chloe to throw over her shoulders. Then, thinking that such gifts sufficed to make both of them his friends, he began to neglect Daphnis, but brought some fresh present to Chloe every day. Sometimes he would give her cheeses made of cow's milk, sometimes ripe fruit, sometimes garlands of fresh flowers, or birds which he had captured in their nests. On one occasion even he presented her with a goblet, gilded at the edges, and on another with a little calf from the mountains.
The free sample has ended.
