Daphnis. 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. Nay, please thyself, no woful tune delights me.
Daphnis. Ah maiden, see that thou too shun the anger of the Paphian.
The Maiden. Good-bye to the Paphian, let Artemis only be friendly!
Daphnis. Say not so, lest she smite thee, and thou fall into a trap whence there is no escape.
The Maiden. Let her smite an she will; Artemis again would be my defender. Lay no hand on me; nay, if thou do more, and touch me with thy lips, I will bite thee. {148}
Daphnis. From Love thou dost not flee, whom never yet maiden fled.
The Maiden. Escape him, by Pan, I do, but thou dost ever bear his yoke.
Daphnis. This is ever my fear lest he even give thee to a meaner man.
The Maiden. Many have been my wooers, but none has won my heart.
Daphnis. Yea I, out of many chosen, come here thy wooer.
The Maiden. Dear love, what can I do? Marriage has much annoy.
Daphnis. Nor pain nor sorrow has marriage, but mirth and dancing.
The Maiden. Ay, but they say that women dread their lords.
Daphnis. Nay, rather they always rule them,--whom do women fear?
The Maiden. Travail I dread, and sharp is the shaft of Eilithyia.
Daphnis. But thy queen is Artemis, that lightens labour.
The Maiden. But I fear childbirth, lest, perchance, I lose my beauty.
Daphnis. Nay, if thou bearest dear children thou wilt see the light revive in thy sons.
The Maiden. And what wedding gift dost thou bring me if I consent?
Daphnis. My whole flock, all my groves, and all my pasture land shall be thine.
The Maiden. Swear that thou wilt not win me, and then depart and leave me forlorn.
Daphnis. So help me Pan I would not leave thee, didst thou even choose to banish me!
The Maiden. Dost thou build me bowers, and a house, and folds for flocks?
Daphnis. Yea, bowers I build thee, the flocks I tend are fair.
The Maiden. But to my grey old father, what tale, ah what, shall I tell?
Daphnis. He will approve thy wedlock when he has heard my name.
The Maiden. Prithee, tell me that name of thine; in a name there is often delight.
Daphnis. Daphnis am I, Lycidas is my father, and Nomaea is my mother.
The Maiden. Thou comest of men well-born, but there I am thy match.
Daphnis. I know it, thou art of high degree, for thy father is Menalcas. {150a}
The Maiden. Show me thy grove, wherein is thy cattle-stall.
Daphnis. See here, how they bloom, my slender cypress-trees.
The Maiden. Graze on, my goats, I go to learn the herdsman"s labours.
Daphnis. Feed fair, my bulls, while I show my woodlands to my lady!
The Maiden. What dost thou, little satyr; why dost thou touch my breast?
Daphnis. I will show thee that these earliset apples are ripe.
{150b}
The Maiden. By Pan, I swoon; away, take back thy hand.
Daphnis. Courage, dear girl, why fearest thou me, thou art over fearful!
The Maiden. Thou makest me lie down by the water-course, defiling my fair raiment!
Daphnis. Nay, see, "neath thy raiment fair I am throwing this soft fleece.
The Maiden. Ah, ah, thou hast s.n.a.t.c.hed my girdle too; why hast thou loosed my girdle?
Daphnis. These first-fruits I offer, a gift to the Paphian.
The Maiden. Stay, wretch, hark; surely a stranger cometh; nay, I hear a sound.
Daphnis. The cypresses do but whisper to each other of thy wedding.
The Maiden. Thou hast torn my mantle, and unclad am I.