Part 13 (1/2)
Two fishers, on a time, two old men, together lay and slept; they had strown the dry sea-moss for a bed in their wattled cabin, and there they lay against the leafy wall. Beside them were strewn the instruments of their toilsome hands, the fis.h.i.+ng-creels, the rods of reed, the hooks, the sails bedraggled with sea-spoil, {106a} the lines, the weds, the lobster pots woven of rushes, the seines, two oars, {106b} and an old coble upon props. Beneath their heads was a scanty matting, their clothes, their sailor's caps. Here was all their toil, here all their wealth. The threshold had never a door, nor a watch-dog; {106c} all things, all, to them seemed superfluity, for Poverty was their sentinel. They had no neighbour by them, but ever against their narrow cabin gently floated up the sea.
The chariot of the moon had not yet reached the mid-point of her course, but their familiar toil awakened the fishermen; from their eyelids they cast out slumber, and roused their souls with speech.
{106d}
Asphalion. They lie all, my friend, who say that the nights wane short in summer, when Zeus brings the long days. Already have I seen ten thousand dreams, and the dawn is not yet. Am I wrong, what ails them, the nights are surely long?
The Friend. Asphalion, thou blamest the beautiful summer! It is not that the season hath wilfully pa.s.sed his natural course, but care, breaking thy sleep, makes night seem long to thee.
Asphalion. Didst ever learn to interpret dreams? for good dreams have I beheld. I would not have thee to go without thy share in my vision; even as we go shares in the fish we catch, so share all my dreams! Sure, thou art not to be surpa.s.sed in wisdom; and he is the best interpreter of dreams that hath wisdom for his teacher.
Moreover, we have time to idle in, for what could a man find to do, lying on a leafy bed beside the wave and slumbering not? Nay, the a.s.s is among the thorns, the lantern in the town hall, for, they say, it is always sleepless. {107}
The Friend. Tell me, then, the vision of the night; nay, tell all to thy friend.
Asphalion. As I was sleeping late, amid the labours of the salt sea (and truly not too full-fed, for we supped early if thou dost remember, and did not overtax our bellies), I saw myself busy on a rock, and there I sat and watched the fishes, and kept spinning the bait with the rods. And one of the fish nibbled, a fat one, for in sleep dogs dream of bread, and of fish dream I. Well, he was tightly hooked, and the blood was running, and the rod I grasped was bent with his struggle. So with both hands I strained, and had a sore tussle for the monster. How was I ever to land so big a fish with hooks all too slim? Then just to remind him he was hooked, I gently p.r.i.c.ked him, {108a} p.r.i.c.ked, and slackened, and, as he did not run, I took in line. My toil was ended with the sight of my prize; I drew up a golden fish, lo you, a fish all plated thick with gold! Then fear took hold of me, lest he might be some fish beloved of Posidon, or perchance some jewel of the sea-grey Amphitrite. Gently I unhooked him, lest ever the hooks should retain some of the gold of his mouth. Then I dragged him on sh.o.r.e with the ropes, {108b} and swore that never again would I set foot on sea, but abide on land, and lord it over the gold.
This was even what wakened me, but, for the rest, set thy mind to it, my friend, for I am in dismay about the oath I swore.
The Friend. Nay, never fear, thou art no more sworn than thou hast found the golden fish of thy vision; dreams are but lies. But if thou wilt search these waters, wide awake, and not asleep, there is some hope in thy slumbers; seek the fish of flesh, lest thou die of famine with all thy dreams of gold!
IDYL XXII--THE DIOSCURI
This is a hymn, in the Homeric manner, to Castor and Polydeuces.
Compare the life and truth of the descriptions of nature, and of the boxing-match, with the frigid manner of Apollonius Rhodius.-- Argonautica, II. I. seq.
We hymn the children twain of Leda, and of aegis-bearing Zeus,-- Castor, and Pollux, the boxer dread, when he hath harnessed his knuckles in thongs of ox-hide. Twice hymn we, and thrice the stalwart sons of the daughter of Thestias, the two brethren of Lacedaemon. Succourers are they of men in the very thick of peril, and of horses maddened in the b.l.o.o.d.y press of battle, and of s.h.i.+ps that, defying the stars that set and rise in heaven, have encountered the perilous breath of storms. The winds raise huge billows about their stern, yea, or from the prow, or even as each wind wills, and cast them into the hold of the s.h.i.+p, and shatter both bulwarks, while with the sail hangs all the gear confused and broken, and the storm- rain falls from heaven as night creeps on, and the wide sea rings, being lashed by the gusts, and by showers of iron hail.
Yet even so do ye draw forth the s.h.i.+ps from the abyss, with their sailors that looked immediately to die; and instantly the winds are still, and there is an oily calm along the sea, and the clouds flee apart, this way and that, also the Bears appear, and in the midst, dimly seen, the a.s.ses' manger, declaring that all is smooth for sailing.
O ye twain that aid all mortals, O beloved pair, ye knights, ye harpers, ye wrestlers, ye minstrels, of Castor, or of Polydeuces first shall I begin to sing? Of both of you will I make my hymn, but first will I sing of Polydeuces.
Even already had Argo fled forth from the Clas.h.i.+ng Rocks, and the dread jaws of snowy Pontus, and was come to the land of the Bebryces, with her crew, dear children of the G.o.ds. There all the heroes disembarked, down one ladder, from both sides of the s.h.i.+p of Iason.
When they had landed on the deep seash.o.r.e and a sea-bank sheltered from the wind, they strewed their beds, and their hands were busy with firewood. {111}
Then Castor of the swift steeds, and swart Polydeuces, these twain went wandering alone, apart from their fellows, and marvelling at all the various wildwood on the mountain. Beneath a smooth cliff they found an ever-flowing spring filled with the purest water, and the pebbles below shone like crystal or silver from the deep. Tall fir trees grew thereby, and white poplars, and planes, and cypresses with their lofty tufts of leaves, and there bloomed all fragrant flowers that fill the meadows when early summer is waning--dear work-steads of the hairy bees. But there a monstrous man was sitting in the sun, terrible of aspect; the bruisers' hard fists had crushed his ears, and his mighty breast and his broad back were domed with iron flesh, like some huge statue of hammered iron. The muscles on his brawny arms, close by the shoulder, stood out like rounded rocks, that the winter torrent has rolled, and worn smooth, in the great swirling stream, but about his back and neck was draped a lion's skin, hung by the claws. Him first accosted the champion, Polydeuces.
Polydeuces. Good luck to thee, stranger, whosoe'er thou art! What men are they that possess this land?
Amycus. What sort of luck, when I see men that I never saw before?
Polydeuces. Fear not! Be sure that those thou look'st on are neither evil, nor the children of evil men.
Amycus. No fear have I, and it is not for thee to teach me that lesson.
Polydeuces. Art thou a savage, resenting all address, or some vainglorious man?
Amycus. I am that thou see'st, and on thy land, at least, I trespa.s.s not.
Polydeuces. Come, and with kindly gifts return homeward again!