Nonnus of Panopolis, Dionysiaca 5.229–279: Book 5: The inventions of Aristaios

That man ranging the mountains on his springing feet, first found out the business of hunting the a among the rocks they love : how the dog divines the scent of the unseen prey with intelligent nostril on the ankles of the hills, pricking up his ears on the crook-path course ; he learnt the many-twining meshes of his cunning art, and the shape of the standing stakenet, and the morning track of animals over the sand and the spoor impressed in the untrodden earth. He taught also the huntsman those high boots for his feet, when he speeds on, steadily pressing the hounds in chase of their prey, and made him wear a short shirt with the thigh showing, lest the tunic hanging low should hinder the speed of the hunter’s hurrying foot.

That man invented the riddled hive with its rows of cells, and made a settled place for the labours of the wandering bees, which flit from flower to flower over the meadows and flutter on clusters of fine- fruiting plants, sucking dew from the top with the tips - of their lips. He covered every limb from toenails to hair with a close-woven wrap of linen, to defend him from the formidable stings of the battling bees, and with the cunning trick of smothering smoke he tamed their malice. He shook in the air a torch to threaten the hive-loving bee, and lifting a pair of metal plates, he clapt the two together with rattling hands over the brood in the skep, while they buzzed and humble-bumbled in ceaseless din; then cutting “off the covering of wax with its many-pointed cells, he emptied from the comb its gleaming treasure of honey dripping increase.

“He first found out the dew of slick-trickling oil, when he cut into the fruit of the juicy olive with the heavy stone and scrouged out the rich foison. From the well-wooded pasture of the shady forest- slopes he brought the herdsmen to meadows and ealings, and taught them to feed their flocks from sunrise to eventide. When the sheep strayed in strings with wandering hoof, lagging behind on ways they could not find or trust, to the flowery pasture, he joined them on one path sending a goat ahead to lead the concerted march. He invented Pan’s pastoral tune on the mountains. He lulled asleep the scorching dogstar of Maira He kindled the fragrant altar of Zeus Icmaios ; he poured the bull’s blood over the sweet libation, and the curious gifts of the gadabout bee which lay on the altar, filling his dainty cups with a poset mixt with honey. Father Zeus heard him: and honouring his son’s son, he sent a counterblast of pest-averting winds to strain Seirios with his fiery fevers. Still to this day the etesian winds from Zeus herald the sacrifice of Aristaios, and cool the land when the ripening vine grows in mottled clusters.

This was he, the Celan son of Phoibos, whom Eros escorted to the Aonian wedding. All the city wreathed in garlands was busy about the cattle sacrifice, and the straight-cut streets were all busy dancing. Before the gates of the bridal chamber the people twirled their reeling legs for the wedding ; the women struck up a lovely-sounding noise of melody, the Aonian hoboys tootled with the bridal pipes.