_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 snatched 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. _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_. Artemis, be not wrathful, thy votary breaks her vow. _Daphnis_. I will slay a calf for Love, and for Aphrodite herself a heifer. _The Maiden_. A maiden I came hither, a woman shall I go homeward. _Daphnis_. Nay, a wife and a mother of children shalt thou be, no more a maiden. So, each to each, in the joy of their young fresh limbs they were murmuring: it was the hour of secret love. Then she arose, and stole to herd her sheep; with shamefast eyes she went, but her heart was comforted within her. And he went to his herds of kine, rejoicing in his wedlock. IDYL XXVIII _This little piece of Aeolic verse accompanied the present of a distaff which Theocritus brought from Syracuse to Theugenis_, _the wife of his friend Nicias_, _the physician of Miletus_. _On the margin of a translation by Longepierre_ (_the famous book-collector_), _Louis XIV wrote that this idyl is a model of honourable gallantry_. * * * * *