But to explain why Faunus should particularly eschew the use of drapery a merry tale is handed down from days of old. As chance would have it, the Tirynthian youth was walking in the company of his mistress; Faunus saw them both from a high ridge. He saw and burned. “Ye mountain elves,” quoth he,” I’m done with you. Yon shall be my true flame. As the Maeonian damsel tripped along, her scented locks streamed down her shoulders; her bosom shone resplendent with golden braid. A golden parasol kept off the sun’s warm beams; and yet it was the hands of Hercules that bore it up. Now had she reached the grove of Bacchus and the vineyards of Tmolus, and dewy Hesperus rode on his dusky steed. She passed within a cave, whereof the fretted roof was all of tufa and of living rock, and at the mouth there ran a babbling brook. While the attendants were making ready the viands and the wine for the wassail, she arrayed Alcides in her own garb. She gave him gauzy tunics in Gaetulian purple dipped; she gave him the dainty girdle, which but now had girt her waist. For his belly the girdle was too small; he undid the clasps of the tunics to thrust out his big hands. The bracelets he had broken, not made to fit those arms; his big feet split the little shoes. She herself took the heavy club, the hon’s skin, and the lesser weapons stored in their quiver. In such array they feasted, in such array they resigned themselves to slumber, and lay down apart on beds set side by side; the reason was that they were preparing to celebrate in all purity, when day should dawn, a festival in honour of the discoverer of the vine. ’Twas midnight.
What durst not wanton love essay? Through the gloom came Faunus to the dewy cave, and when he saw the attendants in drunken slumber sunk, he conceived a hope that their masters might be as sound asleep. He entered and, rash lecher, he wandered to and fro; with hands outstretched before him he felt his cautious way. At last he reached by groping the beds, where they were spread, and at his first venture fortune smiled on him. When he touched the skin, all shagged with bristles, of the tawny lion, he was terrified, and stayed his hand, and thunderstruck recoiled, as oft at sight of a snake a wayfarer starts back dismayed. Next he touched the soft drapery of the neighbouring couch, and its deceptive touch beguiled him. He mounted and laid him down on the nearer side.... There he encountered legs that bristled with thick rough hair. When he would have proceeded further, the Tirynthian hero thrust him away of a sudden, and down he fell from the top of the bed. There was a crash. The Maeonian damsel called for her attendants and demanded a light: torches were brought in, and the murder was out. After his heavy fall from the high couch Faunus groaned and scarce could lift his limbs from the hard ground. Alcides laughed, and so did all who saw him lying; the Lydian wench laughed also at her lover. Thus betrayed by vesture, the god loves not garments which deceive the eye, and he bids his worshippers come naked to his rites.
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