Nonnus of Panopolis, Dionysiaca 11.0–82: Book 11: Ampelos swims with Dionysos

See the eleventh, and you will find lovely Ampelos carried off by the man-slaying robber bull. The contest was done.

The lovely lad exulting in his sport-loving victory, skipt about with Bacchos his yearsmate playfellow, and moved his circling legs in gambolling turns. He threw his white right arm about Dionysos ; and when Iobacchos saw him jumping about so proud of his two victories, he said to him affectionately : Hurry now have another try, dear boy, after that race and after your land action ; try a third match, swim against your comrade Bacchos and see if you can beat him! You had the best of it, Ampelos, in wrestling with me on the sands; now show yourself more agile than Dionysos in the rivers! Leave the playful Satyrs to their skippings and come quick again by yourself to a third match. If you win both by land and water, I will crown your lovely hair with a double garland for two victories over Dionysos the unconquerable.

This lovely stream suits you, suits the beauty of your limbs alone, that there may be a double Ampelos cutting the goldgleaming flood with golden palm ; while you stretch naked limb for victory, all the Pactolian water shall adorn your beauty. Phaethon himself shoots his rosy beams on Oceanos ; grant an equal Olympian glory to this river: you too give your brightness to Pactolos, that Ampelos may be seen rising like Phosphoros. Both are radiant, this river with its red metal, and you with your limbs ; in the deep riches of his flood let him receive this youth also with the same colour on his skin ; let him mix beauty with beauty, that I may cry to the Satyrs— How came rose to rose? How is ruddy flesh and sparkling water mingled into one radiant light ?

“Would that the river Eridanos were here also, dear boy, where are the rich-rolling tears of the Heliades ; then I would wash your limbs with amber and gold together. But since I live very far from the western river, I will visit the city of Alybe close at hand, where the Geudis has a white stream of water, that when you come bathed out of river Pactolos, Ampelos, I may make you shine with silvery water too. Let the other Satyrs see to wide-flowing Hermon, for he has no golden springs. But you are the only golden boy, and you shall have the golden water.”

Thus speaking, he plunged into the water; Ampelos rose from the ground and joined Lysios, and a jolly course the two had, zigzag from point to point of the opulent river. The god winning this watery race swam steadily through the water, pushing his bare breast against the stream, moving his feet and paddling with his hands, and so scored the undisturbed surface of the smooth treasury of riches. Now his boy-comrade’s course ran beside his own, now he shot past him carefully, just so much as to leave Ampelos still a near neighbour to Bacchos in the way : sometimes he let his hands go round and round as if tired by the water, and willingly yielded quick-knee the victory to the other swimmer,

Leaving the river stream, Ampelos repaired to the shelter of the woods, lifting a proud neck for his victory in the river. He bound his head with a cluster of vipers, like Lyaios’s terrible wreath of snakes, Often seeing the dappleback tunic of Bromios, he put over his limbs a spotted dress in imitation, and pushed his light foot into a purple buskin, and threw a speckled robe on his body. When he saw Iobacchos in a car driving panthers about the hills, he showed off exultantly his gambols with rock-loving beasts ; now mounting the shaggy back of a woodland bear, he pulled back the ruff of the grim hurrying beast ; now on the hairy neck of a lion he gave it the whip: now he drove an unbridled tiger with delight, seated immovable high on the striped back.

When Dionysos saw him, he warned him gently, adding friendly prophetic words to console him as the voice of pity issued from reproving lips Where are you riding, dear boy? Why so fond of the forest Stay by me when I hunt, and hunt with Dionysos ; when Lyaios touches the feast, join in his feasting, and share my revels when I stir the Satyrs to revel. I am not troubled about the panther or the jaws of the wild bear: you need not fear the wild mouth of the mountainranging lioness—fear only the horns of the pitiless bull.”

He warned bold Ampelos in compassion : the youth heard the words with his ears, but the mind within him was still at play.