of the twenty-first idyll as a picture in which the human interest predominates; and, though the idyll opens with the heartless sophism of wealth—
"Want, Diophantus, alone stirs men to the arts of invention"[1]—
the description of the two ancient fishers" could not have been written by a man whose sympathies were bounded by the courtly life of Alexandria. Mr. Calverley here saves me the trouble of translating; his scholarly translation runs thus:—
"Two ancient fishers once lay side by side
On piled-up sea-wrack in their wattled hut,
Its leafy wall their curtain. Near them lay
The weapons of their trade, basket and rod,
Hooks, weed-encumbered nets, and cords and oars,
And, propped on rollers, an infirm old boat.
Their pillow was a scanty mat, eked out
With caps and garments. …
Their craft their all; their mistress, Poverty;
Their only neighbour Ocean, who for aye
Round their lone hut came floating lazily."
Elsewhere the framework of natural scenery attains to greater prominence, as in the following description at the end of the seventh idyll.
"There we lay
Half-buried in a couch of fragrant reed
And fresh-cut vine-leaves—who so glad as we?
A wealth of elm and poplar shook o'erhead;
Hard by a sacred spring flowed gurgling on
From the nymphs' grot, and in the sombre boughs
The sweet cicada chirped laboriously;
Hid in the thick thorn-bushes far away
The tree-frog's note was heard; the crested lark
Sang with the goldfinch; turtles made their moan,
And o'er the fountain hung the gilded bee.
All of rich summer smelt, of autumn all;
Pears at our feet, and apples at our side
Tumbled luxuriant; branches on the ground
Sprawled, overweighed with damsons; while we brushed
From the cask's head the crust of four long years."
Theocritus has combined dramatic pictures of human life and character with graphic description of Nature; but
- ↑ ἁ πενία, Δι´φαντε, μόνα τὰς τέχνας ἐγείρει.
