So he spoke, shaken by the sting of desire. Not Apollo in the thick Magnesian woods, when he was herdsman to Admetos and tended his cattle, was pierced by the sweet sting of love for a winsome boy, as Bacchos rejoiced in heart sporting with the youth. Both played in the woods together, now throwing the thyrsus to travel through the air, now on some unshaded flat, or again they tramped the rocks hunting the hill-bred lions. Sometimes alone on a deserted bank, they played on the sands of a pebbly river and had a wrestling-bout in friendly sport ; no tripod was their prize, no flower-graven cauldron lay ready for the victory, no horses from the grass, but a double pipe of love with clear-sounding notes. It was a delightsome strife for both, for mad Love stood between them, a winged Hermes in the ring wreathing a love-garland of daffodil and iris. Both stood forward as love’s athletes. They joined their palms garland-wise over each other’s back, packed at the waist with a knot of the hands, squeezed the ribs tight with the muscles of their two forearms, lifted each other from the ground alternately. Bacchos was in heaven amid this honeysweet wrestling, and love gave him a double joy, lifting and lifted. Ampelos enclosed the wrist of Bromios in his palm, then joining hands and tightening that intruding grip interlaced his fingers and brought them together in a double knot, squeezing the right hand of willing Dionysos. Next Bacchos ran his two hands round the young man’s waist squeezing his body with a loving grip, and lifted Ampelos high; but the other kicked Bromios neatly behind the knee; and Euios laughing merrily at the blow from his young comrade’s tender foot, let himself fall on his back in the dust. Thus while Bacchos lay willingly on the ground and the boy sat across his naked belly, and in delight lay stretched at full length on the ground sustaining the sweet burden on his paunch. Now raising one of his legs he set the sole of the foot firmly upon the sand and raised his overturned back; but he showed mercy in his strength, as with a rival movement of a reluctant hand he dislodged the beloved burden. The young man, no novice at the game, turned sideways rested his elbow on the ground, then jumped across on his adversary’s back, then over his flanks with a foot behind one knee and another set on the other ankle he encircled the waist with a double bond and squeezed the ribs and pressed flat and straight out the lifted leg under his knee Both rolled in the dust, and the sweat poured out to tell that they were tired.
Thus Dionysos was conquered with his own consent, like his father as an athlete, who was conquered at last though invincible : for mighty Zeus himself, wrestling with Heracles beside the Alpheios, bent willing knees and fell of his own accord,
So ended the playful bout : the young man held out a happy hand and lifted his prize, the double pipes. He cleansed the sweat from his limbs in the river and washed off the damp dust ; as he bathed, a pleasant brightness shone from the sweating skin,
After the victory in wrestling strong-limbed, Bacchos did not cease his games with his young comrade, but proposed a windswift contest of foot-running. To bring in other fleet wooers of the game for love, he offered for the first, Cybelid Rheia’s instruments as a prize, bronze-plated cymbals and the speckled skins of fawns, second prize for victory was Pan’s comrade pan-pipes sweet of utterance, and a resounding tomtom in a heavy bronze frame. For the third in his games, Dionysos offered ruddy sand from the river so ready and willing.
Then Bromios measured the ground for the furlong race. He measured the stretch between the two ends of the course, and set up a tall stake in the ground, ten palms high, to make the finish of the race ; at the other end he raised and planted a thyrsus on the river-bank to show the turning-point. Then he urged the Satyrs to go in and win,
Springheel Lyaios cried his summons aloud, and first up leapt windfoot Leneus, then on either side of him high-stepping Cissos and charming Ampelos stood up. They stood in a row, confident in the quick soles of their straight-faring feet. Cissos flew with stormy movement of his feet just skimming the top of the ground as he touched it. Leneus was running behind him quick as the winds of heaven and warming the back of the sprinter with his breath, close behind the leader, and he touched footstep with footstep on the dust as it dropped, with following feet : the space between them both was no more than the rod leaves open before the bosom of a girl working at the loom, close to the firm breast. Ampelos came third and last. Dionysos saw them out of the corner of his eye, and melted with jealousy that the two competitors should be in front, afraid they might win and Ampelos come in behind them; the god helped him, breathed strength into him, and made the boy swifter than the spinning gale. Then Cissos, first of the two in the race, striving so hard for the prize, stumbled over a wet place on the shore, slipt and fell in the sandy slush ; Leneus had to check the course of his feet, and his knees lost their swing : so both competitors were passed and Ampelos carried off the victory. The old Seilenos shouted Euoi, amazed at the victory of the youth. He received the first with soft hair flowing, Leneus took the second full of envy, for he understood the jealous trick of Lyaios and his passion : Cissos eyed his comrades with look abashed, as he held out his hand for the last prize discontented,
Cite This Text