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Updated: June 24, 2025
I would defy the greatest expert to tell me, simply from the insect's appearance and without learning the facts by experiment, the manner of industry to which Phanæus Milon, for instance, devotes himself. Remembering the Onites, who are very similar in shape and who manipulate stercoral matter, he would look upon the foreigner as another manipulator of dung.
My favorite among all these remains is a mutilated statue which they call the Venus de Milon. This is a statue which is so called from having been dug up some years ago, piecemeal, in the Island of Milos. There was quite a struggle for her between a French naval officer, the English, and the Turks.
But I, Milon, am in love for almost eleven days! Milan. 'Tis easily seen that thou drawest from a wine-cask, while even vinegar is scarce with me. Battus. And for Love's sake, the fields before my doors are untilled since seed-time. Milan. But which of the girls afflicts thee so? Battus. The daughter of Polybotas, she that of late was wont to pipe to the reapers on Hippocoon's farm. Milan.
These having bestowed the boy in accordance with their lord's commandment, returned to their own land. Milon went forth from his realm to serve beyond the seas for guerdon. His friend remained within her house and was granted by her father in marriage to a right rich baron of that country.
These are the last words that are to be found of his in contemporary accounts; a few hours afterwards he was smitten to death in his carriage, brought back to the Louvre, laid out on his bed; one of his councillors of state, M. de Vie, seated on the same bed, had put to his mouth his cross of the order, and directed his thoughts to God; Milon, his chief physician, was at the bedside, weeping: his surgeons wanted to dress his wounds; a sigh died away on his lips, and "It is all over," said the physician; "he is gone."
He dropped without suffering pain, quivering only in the final throes. Then the farmer, radiant with the silent joy of an old peasant, got up again, and, for his own pleasure, cut the dead man's throat. He then dragged the body to the ditch and threw it in. The horse quietly awaited its master. Father Milon mounted him and started galloping across the plains.
Milon commended the child to his men, charging them to carry him loyally, by such towns as they knew, to that lady beyond the Humber. The servitors set forth, bearing the infant with them. Seven times a day they reposed them in their journey, so that the women might nourish the babe, and bathe and tend him duly.
Milon, thou that canst toil till late, thou chip of the stubborn stone, has it never befallen thee to long for one that was not with thee? Milan. Never! What has a labouring man to do with hankering after what he has not got? Battus. Then it never befell thee to lie awake for love? Milan. Forbid it; 'tis an ill thing to let the dog once taste of pudding. Battus.
Finally, toward midnight, he heard the sound of a galloping horse. The man put his ear to the ground in order to make sure that only one horseman was approaching, then he got ready. An Uhlan came galloping along, carrying des patches. As he went, he was all eyes and ears. When he was only a few feet away, Father Milon dragged himself across the road, moaning: "Hilfe! Hilfe!"
Did he not come to you?" "No," answered Berenike. "But what is this fresh blood? Has the slaughter begun?" The wounded man nodded. Then he continued, with a groan: "In front of the house of your neighbor Milon the back of my head I fled a lance " His voice failed him, and Berenike cried to the tribune: "Support him, Nemesianus! Look after him and tend him.
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