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slowness of his march. Besides, he had left behind at Heraclea a corps to guard the camp baggage.

Meantime the Greeks who had mustered at Delphi drew out in order of battle against the army of Brennus, and soon, to confound the barbarians, the god sent signs and wonders, the plainest that ever were seen. For all the ground occupied by the army of the Gauls quaked violently most of the day, and thunder rolled and lightning flashed continually, the claps of thunder stunning the Celts and hindering them from hearing the words of command, while the bolts from heaven set fire not only to the men upon whom they fell, but to all who were near them, men and arms alike. Then, too, appeared to them the phantoms of the heroes Hyperochus, Laodocus, Pyrrhus; some add to these a fourth, to wit, Phylacus, a local hero of Delphi. Of the Phocians themselves many fell in the action, and amongst them Aleximachus, who, on that day, above all the Greeks, did everything that youth and strength and valor could do in slaying the barbarians. The Phocians had a statue of him made and sent it to Apollo at Delphi. Such were the sufferings and terrors by which the barbarians were beset all that livelong day; and the fate that was in store for them in the night was more dismal far. For a keen frost set in, and with the frost came snow, and great rocks came slipping from Parnassus, and crags breaking off, made straight for the barbarians, crushing to death not one or two, but thirty or more at a blow, as they chanced to be grouped together on guard or in slumber.

At sunrise the Greeks advanced upon them from Delphi. All except the Phocians came straight on; but the Phocians, more familiar with the ground, descended the precipices of Parnassus through the snow and getting in the rear of the Celts unperceived, showered their darts and arrows on the barbarians in perfect security. At first, despite the cross-fire of missiles and the bitter cold which told on them, and especially on the wounded, not less cruelly than the arrows of the enemy, the Gauls made a gallant stand, and especially Brennus's own company, the tallest and most stalwart of them all. But when Brennus himself was wounded and carried fainting from the field, the barbarians, beset on every side, fell sullenly back, butchering as they went their comrades, whom wounds or sickness disabled from attending the retreat.

They encamped on the spot where night overtook them on the retreat; but in the night a panic fear fell on them. Cause

less fears, they say, are inspired by Pan. It was late in the evening when the confusion arose in the army, and at first it was a mere handful who lost their heads, fancying they heard the trampling of charging horses and the onset of foemen; but soon the delusion spread to the whole army. So they snatched up their arms, and taking sides, dealt death and received it. For they understood not their mother tongue, nor perceived each other's forms and the shapes of their bucklers, both sides alike in their present infatuation fancying that their adversaries were Greeks, that their arms were Greek, and that the language they spoke was Greek. So the God-sent madness wrought a very great slaughter among the Gauls at the hands of each other. The Phocians, who were left in the field to watch the herds, were the first to perceive and report to the Greeks what had befallen the barbarians in the night. Then the Phocians took heart and pressed the Celts more vigorously than ever, keeping a stricter watch on their encampments, and not suffering them to forage unresisted. This immediately produced a dreadful scarcity of corn and all other necessaries throughout the whole Gallic army. Their losses in Phocis amounted to a little under 6000 in action, over 10,000 in the wintry night and the subsequent panic, and as many more by famine.

The Athenians sent scouts to see what was doing at Delphi. When these men returned and reported all that had befallen the barbarians, and what the god had done to them, the Athenians took the field, and on the march through Boeotia were joined by the Boeotians. Their united forces followed the barbarians, lying in wait for and cutting off the hindmost. The fugitives under Brennus had been joined by the army of Acichorius only the night before; for the march of the latter had been retarded by the Etolians, who pelted them freely with darts and anything else that came to hand, so that only a small part of them escaped to the camp at Heraclea. Brennus's hurts still left him a chance of life; but they say that from fear of his countrymen, and still more from wounded pride as the author of the disastrous campaign in Greece, he put an end to himself by drinking neat wine. After that the barbarians made their way with difficulty to the Spercheus, hotly pressed by the Ætolians. But from the Spercheus onward the Thessalians and Malians lay in wait, and swallowed them up so completely that not a man of them returned home.

IDYLS OF THEOCRITUS.

(Translation and introductions by Andrew Lang.)

[THEOCRITUS, the creator of the pastoral poem, was born at Syracuse, and lived later at Alexandria under Ptolemy Philadelphus; his palmiest period being about 270. He developed the responsive verse contest of shepherds into the bucolic "idyl "—"sketch" — of country and sometimes city life.]

IDYL II.

Simatha, madly in love with Delphis, who has forsaken her, endeavors to subdue him to her by magic, and by invoking the Moon in her character of Hecate and of Selene. She tells the tale of the growth of her passion, and vows vengeance if her magic arts are unsuccessful. The scene is probably some garden beneath the moonlit sky, near the town, and within sound of the sea. The characters are Simatha and Thestylis her handmaid.

WHERE are my laurel leaves? come, bring them, Thestylis; and where are the love charms? Wreath the bowl with bright red wool, that I may knit the witch knots against my grievous lover, who for twelve days, oh, cruel, has never come hither, nor knows whether I am alive or dead, nor has once knocked at my door, unkind that he is! Hath Love flown off with his light desires by some other path-Love and Aphrodite? Tomorrow I will go to the wrestling school of Timagetus, to see my love and to reproach him with all the wrong he is doing But now I will bewitch him with my enchantments! Do thou, Selene, shine clear and fair; for softly, goddess, to thee will I sing, and to Hecate of Hell. The very whelps shiver before her as she fares through black blood and across the barrows of the dead.

me.

Hail, awful Hecate! to the end be thou of our company, and make this medicine of mine no weaker than the spells of Circe, or of Medea, or of Perimede of the golden hair.

nay,

My magic wheel, draw home to me the man I love! Lo, how the barley grain first smolders in the fire, toss on the barley, Thestylis! Miserable maid, where are thy wits wandering? Even to thee, wretched that I am, have I become a laughing-stock, even to thee? Scatter the grain, and cry thus the while, ""Tis the bones of Delphis I am scattering! My magic wheel, draw home to me the man I love! Delphis troubled me, and I against Delphis am burning this aurel; and even as it crackles loudly when it has caught the

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flame, and suddenly is burned up, and we see not even the dust thereof, lo, even thus may the flesh of Delphis waste in the burning!

My magic wheel, draw home to me the man I love!

Even as I melt this wax, with the god to aid, so speedily may he by love be molten, the Myndian Delphis! And as whirls this brazen wheel, so restless, under Aphrodite's spell, may he turn and turn about my doors.

My magic wheel, draw home to me the man I love!

Now will I burn the husks, and thou, O Artemis, hast power to move Hell's adamantine gates, and all else that is as stubborn. Thestylis, hark, 'tis so; the hounds are baying up and down the town! The goddess stands where the three ways meet! Hasten, and clash the brazen cymbals.

My magic wheel, draw home to me the man I love!

Lo, silent is the deep, and silent the winds, but never silent the torment in my breast. Nay, I am all on fire for him that made me, miserable me, no wife, but a shameful thing, a girl no more a maiden.

My magic wheel, draw home to me the man I love!

Three times do I pour libation, and thrice, my Lady Moon, I speak this spell:-Be it with a friend that he lingers, be it with a leman he lies, may he as clean forget them as Theseus, of old, in Dia,—so legends tell,-did utterly forget the fairtressed Ariadne.

My magic wheel, draw home to me the man I love!

Coltsfoot is an Arcadian weed that maddens, on the hills, the young stallions and fleet-footed mares. Ah! even as these may I see Delphis; and to this house of mine, may he speed like a madman, leaving the bright palestra.

My magic wheel, draw home to me the man I love!

This fringe from his cloak Delphis lost; that now I shred and cast into the cruel flame. Ah, ah, thou torturing Love, why clingest thou to me like a leech of the fen and drainest all the black blood from my body?

My magic wheel, draw home to me the man I love!

Lo, I will crush an eft, and a venomous draught to-morrow I will bring thee!

But now, Thestylis, take these magic herbs and secretly smear the juice on the jambs of his gate (whereat, even now,

my heart is captive, though nothing he recks of me), and spit, and whisper, "'Tis the bones of Delphis that I smear."

My magic wheel, draw home to me the man I love!

And now that I am alone, whence shall I begin to bewail my love? Whence shall I take up the tale: who brought on me this sorrow? The maiden bearer of the mystic vessel came our way, Anaxo, daughter of Eubulus, to the grove of Artemis; and behold, she had many other wild beasts paraded for that time, in the sacred show, and among them a lioness.

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Bethink thee of my love, and whence it came, my Lady Moon! And the Thracian servant of Theucharides my nurse that is but lately dead, and who then dwelt at our doors — besought me and implored me to come and see the show. And I went with her, wretched woman that I am, clad about in a fair and sweeping linen stole, over which I had thrown the holiday dress of Clearista.

Bethink thee of my love, and whence it came, my Lady Moon! Lo! I was now come to the midpoint of the highway, near the dwelling of Lycon, and there I saw Delphis and Eudamippus walking together. Their beards were more golden than the golden flower of the ivy; their breasts (they coming fresh from the glorious wrestler's toil) were brighter of sheen than thyself, Selene!

Bethink thee of my love, and whence it came, my Lady Moon!

Even as I looked I loved, loved madly, and all my heart was wounded, woe is me, and my beauty began to wane. No more heed took I of that show, and how I came home I know not; but some parching fever utterly overthrew me, and I la abed ten days and ten nights.

Bethink thee of my love, and whence it came, my Lady Moon! And oftentimes my skin waxed wan as the color of boxwood, and all my hair was falling from my head, and what was left of me was but skin and bones. Was there a wizard to whom I did not seek, or a crone to whose house I did not resort, of them that have art magical? But this was no light malady, and the time went fleeting on.

Bethink thee of my love, and whence it came, my Lady Moon!

Thus I told the true story to my maiden, and said, "Go, Thestylis, and find me some remedy for this sore disease. Ah me, the Myndian possesses me, body and soul! Nay, depart,

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