Nonnus, Dionysiaca, XLVII: 265-475 (trans. W. H. D. Rouse)
Now Bacchos left the honeyflowing streams of Ilissos, and went in dainty revel to the
vineclad district of Naxos. About him bold Eros beat his wings, and Cythereia led, before the
coming of Lyaios the bridegroom. For Theseus had just sailed away, and left without pity the
banished maiden asleep on the shore, scattering his promises to the winds. When Dionysos
beheld deserted Ariadne sleeping, he mingled love with wonder, and spoke out his admiration
cautiously to the danceweaving Bacchants:
Bassarids, shake not your tambours, let there be no sound of pipes or feet. Let Cypris rest! —
But she has not the cestus which marks the Cyprian. I believe it is the Grace that wedded
Hypnos, cunning creature! But since dawn is bright and morning seems near, awaken
sleeping Pasithea. But who has given a dress to the naked Grace in Naxos, who? Is it Hebe?
But to whom has she left the goblet of the Blessed? Can this be Selene, that bright driver of
cattle, lying on the seashore? Then how can she be sleeping apart from her inseparable
Endymion? Is it silverfoot Thetis I see on the strand? No, it is not naked, that rosy form. If I
may dare to say so, it is the Archeress resting here in Naxos from her labours of the hunt,
now she has wiped off in the sea the sweat of hunting and slaying. For hard work always
brings sweet sleep. But who has seen Artemis in the woods in long robes? Stay, Bacchants —
stand still, Maron — dance not this way, stop singing, dear Pan, that you may not disturb the
morning sleep of Athena. No — with whom did Pallas leave her spear? and who bears the
bronze helmet or aegis of Tritogeneia?
So cried Bacchos — Sleep flew away, the poor lovelorn girl scattered sleep, awoke and rose
from the sand, and she saw no fleet, no husband — the deceiver! But the Cydonian maiden
lamented with the kingfishers, and paced the heavy murmuring shore which was all that the
Loves had given her. She called on the young man’s name, madly she sought his vessel along
the seaside, scolded the envious sleep, reproached even more the Paphian’s mother, the sea;
she prayed to Boreas and adjured the wind, adjured Oreithyia to bring back the boy to the
land of Naxos and to let her see that sweet ship again. She besought hardhearted Aiolos yet
more; he heard her prayer and obeyed, sending a contrary wind to blow, but Boreas lovelorn
himself cared nothing for the maid stricken with desire — yes, even the breezes themselves
must have had a spite against the maiden when they carried the ship to the Athenian land.
Eros himself admired the maiden, and thought he saw Aphrodite lamenting in Naxos where
all is joy. She was even more resplendent in her grief, and pain was a grace to the sorrower.
Compare the two, and Aphrodite gently smiling and laughing with love must give place to
Ariadne in sorrow, the delectable eyes of Peitho or the Graces or Love himself must yield to
the maiden’s tears. At last in her tears she found voice to speak thus:
“Sweet sleep came to me, when sweet Theseus left me. Would that I had been still happy
when he left me! But in my sleep I saw the land of Cecrops; in the palace of Theseus was a
splendid wedding and dance with songs for Ariadne, and my happy hand was adorning the
Loves’ blooming altar with luxuriant spring flowers. And I wore a bridal wreath; Theseus
was beside me in wedding garments, sacrificing to Aphrodite. Alas, what a sweet dream I
saw! But now it is gone, and I am left here yet virgin. Forgive me, Peitho! All this bridal
pomp the misty darkness marshalled for me, all this the envious dawn of day has torn from
me — and awaking I found not my heart’s desire! Are the very images of Love and Love
Returned jealous of me? for I saw a delightful vision of marriage accomplished in a deceitful
dream, and lovely Theseus was gone.
To me, even kind Sleep is cruel. Tell me, ye rocks, tell the unhappy lover — who stole the
man of Athens? If it should be Boreas blowing, I appeal to Oreithyia : but Oreithyia hates me,
because she also has the blood of Marathon, whence beloved Theseus came. If Zephyros
torments me, tell Iris the bride of Zephyros and mother of Desire, to behold Ariadne
maltreated. If it is Notos, if bold Euros, I appeal to Eos and reproach the mother of the
blustering winds, lovelorn herself.
“Give me again. Sleep, your empty boon, so pleasant; send me another delectable dream like
that, so that I may know the sweet bed of love in a deceptive dream! Only linger upon my
eyes, that I may know the unreal passion of married love in a dream! O Theseus my
treacherous bridegroom, if the marauding winds have carried your course from Naxos to the
Athenian land, tell me now I ask, and I will resort to Aiolos at once reproaching the jealous
and wicked winds. But if some cruel seaman without your knowledge left me outlawed in
desert Naxos, and sailed away, he sinned against Theseus and against Themis, against
Ariadne. May that sailor never see a favourable wind; if he rides the raging storm, may
Melicertes never look on him graciously or bring him a calm sea; but may Notos blow when
he wants Boreas, may he see Euros when he needs Zephyros; when the winds of springtime
blow upon all mariners, may he alone meet with a wintry sea.
“That lawless sailor sinned: but I myself was blinded when I desired the countryman of
chaste Athena. Would that I had not desired him, love-lorn! For Theseus is as savage as he is
charming in love. This is not what he said to me while yet he handled my thread, this is not
what he said at our labyrinth! O that the cruel bull had killed him! Hush, my voice, no more
folly, do not kill the delightful boy. Alas, my love! Theseus has sailed alone to Athens his
happy mother. I know why he left me — in love no doubt with one of the maidens who sailed
with him, and now he holds wedding dance for the other at Marathon while I still walk in
Naxos. My bridal bower was Naxos, O Theseus my treacherous bridegroom! I have lost both
father and bridegroom: alas my love! I see not Minos, I behold not Theseus; I have left my
own Cnossos, but I have not seen your Athens; both father and fatherland are lost. O unhappy
me! Your gift for my love is the water of the brine. Who can be my refuge? What god will
catch me up and convey to Marathon Ariadne, that she may claim her rights before Cypris
and Theseus? Who will take me and carry me over the flood? If only I could myself see
another thread, to guide my way too! Such a thread I want for myself, to escape from the
Aigaian flood and cross to Marathon, that I may embrace you even if you hate Ariadne, that I
may embrace you my perjured husband. Take me for your chambermaid, if you like, and I
will lay your bed, and be your Ariadne (in Marathon) instead of Crete, like some captive girl.
I will endure to serve your most happy bride; I will ply the rattling loom, and lift a pitcher on
envious shoulders, an unfamiliar task, and bring handwash after supper for sweet Theseus —
only let me see Theseus! My mother too once was the menial of a farmer, and bowed her
neck for a herdsman, and prattled of love to a dumb bull in the pasture, and brought the bull a
calf. She cared not to hear the herdsman make music on his pipe so much as to hear the
bellowing bull. I will not touch the crook, I will not stand in the stall; but I will be ready
beside my queen to hear the voice of Theseus, not the bellowing of a bull. I will sing a lovely
song for your wedding, and hide my jealousy of your newly wedded bride.
“Stay your voyage by the sands of Naxos, sailor, stay your ship for me! What — are you
angry too? So you too come from Marathon? If you are bound for your lovely land, where is
the home of love, take this unhappy girl on board that I may behold the city of Cecrops. If
you must leave me, pitiless, and go on your voyage, tell your Theseus of mourning Ariadne,
how she reproaches the treacherous oath of love unfulfilled. I know why angry Eros has left
unfulfilled Theseus the deceiver’s promise. He swore his marriage-oath not by Hera, whom
they call the Nuptial goddess, but by the immaculate Athena, the goddess who knows nothing
of marriage. He swore by Pallas — and what has Pallas to do with Cythereia? “
Bacchus was enraptured to hear this lament. He noticed Cecropia, and knew the name of
Theseus and the deceitful voyage from Crete. Before the girl he appeared in his radiant
godhead; Eros moved swiftly about, and with stinging cestus he whipt the maiden into a
nobler love, that he might lead Minos’s daughter to join willingly with his brother Dionysos.
Then Bacchos comforted Ariadne, lovelorn and lamenting, with these words in his
mindcharming voice:
“Maiden, why do you sorrow for the deceitful man of Athens? Let pass the memory of
Theseus; you have Dionysos for your lover, a husband incorruptible for the husband of a day!
If you are pleased with the mortal body of a youthful yearsmate, Theseus can never challenge
Dionysos in manhood or comeliness. But you will say, ‘He shed the blood of the halfbull man
whose den was the earthdug labyrinth!’ But you know your thread was his saviour: for the
man of Athens with his club would never have found victory in that contest without a rosyred girl to help him. I need not tell you of Eros and the Paphian and Ariadne’s distaff. You
will not say that Athens is greater than heaven. Minos your father was not the equal of Zeus
Almighty, Cnossos is not like Olympos. Not for nothing did that fleet sail from my Naxos,
but Desire preserved you for a nobler bridal. Happy girl, that you leave the poor bed of
Theseus to look on the couch of Dionysos the desirable! What could you pray for higher than
that? You have both heaven for your home and Cronion for your goodfather. Cassiepeia will
not be equal to you because of her daughter’s Olympian glory; for Perseus has left her
heavenly chains to Andromeda even in the stars, but for you I will make a starry crown, that
you may be called the shining bedfellow of crownloving Dionysos.”
So he comforted her; the girl throbbed with joy, and cast into the sea all her memories of
Theseus when she received the promise of wedlock from her heavenly wooer. Then Eros
decked out a bridal chamber for Bacchos, the wedding dance resounded, about the bridal bed
all flowers grew; the dancers of Orchomenos surrounded Naxos with foliage of spring, the
Hamadryad sang of the wedding, the Naiad nymph by the fountains unveiled unshod praised
the union of Ariadne with the vine-god: Ortygia cried aloud in triumph, and chanting a bridal
hymn for Lyaios the brother of Phoibos cityholder she skipt in the dance, that unshakable
rock. Fiery Eros made a round flowergarland with red roses and plaited a wreath coloured
like the stars, as prophet and herald of the heavenly Crown; and round about the Naxian bride
danced a swarm of the Loves which attend on marriage.
The Golden Father entering the chamber of wedded love sowed the seed of many children.
Then rolling the long circle of hoary time, he remembered Rheia his prolific mother; and
leaving faultless Naxos still full of Graces he visited all the towns of Hellas.