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Updated: June 13, 2025
The cypresses do but whisper to each other of thy wedding. The Maiden. Thou hast torn my mantle, and unclad am I. Daphnis. Another mantle I will give thee, and an ampler far than thine. The Maiden. Thou dost promise all things, but soon thou wilt not give me even a grain of salt. Daphnis. Ah, would that I could give thee my very life. The Maiden.
He was my tutor when I was a girl. He was fond of declaiming passages from Lucian and Longus and Ovid. One day he was at it with a piece out of Daphnis and Chloe, and I said, "Now translate." He fetched a gurgle to say he couldn't, and I slapped his check. Will you believe it? the man was indignant.
She says, "Daphnis heeds not my incantations, heeds not the Gods." She looks again; she perceives the ashes on the altar emit sparkles of fire; she hears her faithful house-dog bark before the door; she says, "Can these things be; or do lovers dream what they desire? It is not so! The real Daphnis comes; I hear his steps; he has left the deluding town; he hastens to my longing arms!"
Boast not, for swiftly thy youth flits by thee, like a dream. The Maiden. The grapes turn to raisins, not wholly will the dry rose perish. Daphnis. Come hither, beneath the wild olives, that I may tell thee a tale. The Maiden. I will not come; ay, ere now with a sweet tale didst thou beguile me. Daphnis. Come hither, beneath the elms, to listen to my pipe! The Maiden.
A third tale is the pastoral love story, Daphnis and Chloe, which reappeared in many forms in subsequent literature. They wanted a "handy letter writer," something like a book of etiquette; and it was published in 1741, a few months after Pamela. Radcliffe's best work is the Mysteries of Udolpho. This is the story of a tender heroine shut up in a gloomy castle.
The accident of his lameness, by incapacitating him for violent exercise out of doors, ministered to the development of this spiritual tendency, and threw him back upon the allurements of a refined idealism. Daphnis became to him the embodiment, the concrete image, of eternal youthhood, of adolescence in the abstract, the attribute of an idealised humanity.
But the heart of the other was wasted with grief, and desolate, even as a maiden sorrows that is newly wed. From this time Daphnis became the foremost among the shepherds, and while yet in his earliest youth, he wedded the nymph Nais. Daphnis and Menalcas, at the bidding of the poet, sing the joys of the neatherds and of the shepherds life.
Love avenged himself by making Daphnis desire a strange maiden, but to this temptation he never yielded, and so died a constant lover. The song tells how the cattle and the wild things of the wood bewailed him, how Hermes and Priapus gave him counsel in vain, and how with his last breath he retorted the taunts of the implacable Aphrodite. The scene is in Sicily. Thyrsis.
Not mine be the land of Pelops, not mine to own talents of gold, nay, nor mine to outrun the speed of the winds! Nay, but beneath this rock will I sing, with thee in mine arms, and watch our flocks feeding together, and, before us, the Sicilian sea. Daphnis . . . . Menalcas . . . . Daphnis.
Thus the poets, who understand life, after knowing much of love, more or less transitory, after feeling that sublime exaltation which real passion can for the moment inspire, eliminating from human nature all that degrades it, created the mysterious names which through the ages fly from lip to lip: Daphnis and Chloe, Hero and Leander, Pyramus and Thisbe.
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