In the thirty-fourth, Deriades attacks and massacres the Bacchant women within the walls.
The girl passed over the hills in her quickmoving step, until she silently passed into the woody uplands; nor did Thetis herself linger upon the shore, but she too returned to the weedy hall of her father Nereus. the cloudless heaven and watching the circling stars ; and he spoke, lashing his spirit with cares : “My mind moves unsteadily every way. No one counsel guides me, no one resolve; wishes throng round me in crowds, and I cannot fulfil one Then what can I do, that she too may not kill me with longing, after her fate? Or shall I leave her alive and unwounded, and drag the girl openly into marriage ? But in my heart I fear Deriades and pity Cheirobié. I will never kill the girl; if I strike her down, how can I live when I see the girl no more ? I am in pain when I am without Chalcomede for one hour.”
So Morrheus went raving and pondering vainly many plans, boiling with the pangs of his desire-struck imagination.
As he walked alone on the bank, wandering up and down and forgetful of his bride left alone in her bed, bold Hyssacos his trusty guardian, wide awake, saw him. He was shrewd enough to recognize the secret sting of some undivined love, so he began to ask crafty questions and spoke in beguiling words, as follows : bride to wander about in the dark, fearless Morrheus ? Has Deriades affrighted you with a threat? Is Cheirobié angry with you in a jealous temper, and thinks you in love with some captive Bacchant ? For when women see their partners wild with love, they are always jealous of some secret intrigue. Perhaps that allvanquishing braggart Desire has been aiming at you bridal sparks from his unresting quiver! Do you want one of the Bassarids, perhaps ? As I hear, there are three Graces, the dancers of Orchomenos, handmaids of Phoibos—but Lyaios the danceweaver has whole rows of Graces three hundred strong, one of whom shines pre-eminent above all, as Selene herself quenches the light of the stars with her brighter beams when she scatters her shimmering around. And she arms herself with two shots on one count —the arrow of her beauty and the steel of her spear. She is a helmeted Pasithea, whom the Bacchants name Chalcomede: but I will call her Silverfoot Artemis or Goldenshield Athena.”’
When he had said this, he fell silent ; and lovesick Morrheus drawing his brows together answered with shamefast lips :
“Certainly Dionysos dived into the waves of the sea for fear of Lycurgos, and armed the Nereids in the bosom of the deep, and out of the brine he brought against Ares his own sister, Aphrodite of the brine: instead of the fragrant dress for a bridegift he gave her a steel corselet to wear, instead of the cestus he gave her a spear of bronze ; he changed her name, and Aphrodite armed became Chalcomede. She is in the company of the Bassarids, and I have two to fight, without knowing it—both Cypris and Dionysos. Why do I vainly lift my valiant spear? Yield, my point! If the Paphian has conquered the master of the thunderbolt, if she vanquishes the king of battles with her spark, if she has burnt up flaming Phaéthon with a fire greater than his own and harasses the fiery one, what could I do with steel? Tell me some device to help against Cyprogeneia. Shall I wound Eros but how shall I catch that winged one? Shall I lift aspear? Fire is his weapon. Shall I draw the sword? He has an arrow, and his arrow is fire kindling my heart.
“Often I have been wounded in the field ; but wounded, some physician has made me whole by his lifesaving art, by laying an allheal flower on the wound of my body. Hyssacos, hide it not, tell me what varied store of balsams can apply in my heart to cure the wound of love! To my adversaries I am always bold ; but when I see Chalcomede before me, my sharp point grows womanish. I fear not Dionysos, but I shrink before a woman, for she shoots bright shafts from her lovesmit countenance and pierces me with her beauty. I cannot aim my bow then. So I have seen one of the Nereids. If I dare say it, either Thetis or Galateia is fighting beside Dionysos !
He spoke ; and moving on the tips of his toes, slowly and carefully, so as not to awaken his sleeping wife in the night, he entered his chamber again. Far from the black bosom of his bride he turned his eyes away, and wished that Chalcomede might stand shining before him and dawn appear. Chafing with love he fell on his sad couch; and his watchful guardian Hyssacos, longing for quiet rest, fell asleep once more on his oxhide shield.
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