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Doris

Galatea

Doris

A handsome lover, Galatea, this Sicilian shepherd who they say is so mad for you!

Galatea

Don’t be sarcastic, Doris; he is Posidon’s son, after all.

Doris

Well, and if he were Zeus’s, and still such a wild shaggy creature, with only one eye (there is nothing uglier than to have only one eye), do you think his birth would improve his beauty?

Galatea

Shagginess and wildness, as you call them, are not ugly in a man; and his eye looks very well in the middle of his forehead, and sees just as well as if it were two.

Doris

Why, my dear, from your raptures about him one would think it was you that were in love, not he.

Galatea

Oh no, I am not in love; but it is too bad, your all running him down as you do. It is my belief you are jealous. Do you remember? we were playing on the shore at the foot of Etna, where the long strip of beach comes between the mountain and the sea; he was feeding his sheep, and spied us from above; yes, but he never so much as glanced at the rest of you; I was the pretty one; he was all eyes—eye, I mean— for me. That is what makes you spiteful, because it showed I was better than you, good enough to be loved, while you were taken no notice of.

Doris

Hoity-toity! jealous indeed! because a one-eyed shepherd thinks you pretty! Why, what could he see in you but your white skin? and he only cared for that because it reminded him of cheese and milk; he thinks everything pretty that is like them.

Doris

If you want to know any more than that about your looks, sit on a rock when it is calm, and lean over the water; just a bit of white skin, that is all; and who cares for that, if it is not picked out with some red?

Galatea

Well, if I am all white, I have got a lover of some sort; there is not a-shepherd or a sailor or a boatman to care for any of you. Besides, Polyphemus is very musical.

Doris

Take care, dear; we heard him singing the other day when he serenaded you. Heavens! one would have taken him for an ass braying. And his lyre! what a thing! A stag’s skull, with its horns for the uprights; he put a bar across, and fastened on the strings without any tuning-pegs! then came the performance, all harsh and out of tune; he shouted something himself, and the lyre played something else, and the love ditty sent us into fits of laughter. Why, Echo, chatterbox that she is, would not answer him; she was ashamed to be caught mimicking such a rough ridiculous song.

Doris

Oh, and the pet that your beau brought you in his arms!—a bear cub nearly as shaggy as himself. Now then, Galatea, do you still think we envy you your lover?

Galatea

Well, Doris, only show us your own; no doubt he is much handsomer, and sings and plays far better.

Doris

Oh, I have not got one; I do not set up to be lovely. But one like the Cyclops—faugh, he might be one of his own goats!—he eats raw meat, they say, and feeds on travellers— one like him, dear, you may keep; I wish you nothing worse than to return his love.

Henry Watson Fowler

Dialogi Marini. Lucian. Henry Watson Fowler (Translator), Francis George Fowler (Translator). Medford, MA, USA. 2023-08-01.

Current edition Perseus

Dialogues of the Sea-gods: (English) (The Works of Lucian of Samosata, Vol. 1. Fowler, Henry Watson and Fowler, Francis George, translators. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1905.)

Editions (2)

Ἐνάλιοι Διάλογοι Perseus (Lucian. Luciani Samosatensis Opera, Vol. 1. Jacobitz, Karl, editor. Leipzig: Teubner, 1909.) — 1 focus

288

Δωρίδος καὶ Γαλατείας

Δῶρις

καλὸν ἐραστήν, ὦ Γαλάτεια, τὸν Σικελὸν τοῦτον ποιμένα φασὶν ἐπιμεμηνέναι σοί.

Γαλάτεια

μὴ σκῶπτε, Δωρί· Ποσειδῶνος γαρ υἱός ἐστιν, ὁποῖος ἂν ᾖ.

Δῶρις

τί οὖν; εἰ καὶ τοῦ Διὸς αὐτοῦ παῖς ὢν ἄγριος οὕτω καὶ λάσιος ἐφαίνετο καί, τὸ πάντων ἀμορφότατον, μονόφθαλμος, οἴει τὸ γένος ἄν τι ὀνῆσαι αὐτὸν πρὸς τὴν μορφήν;

Γαλάτεια

οὐδὲ τὸ λάσιον αὐτοῦ καί, ὡς φής, ἄγριον ἄμορφόν ἐστιν — ἀνδρῶδες γάρ — ὅ τε ὀφθαλμὸς ἐπιπρέπει τῷ μετώπῳ οὐδὲν ἐνδεέστερον ὁρῶν ἢ εἰ δύʼ ἦσαν.

Δῶρις

ἔοικας, ὦ Γαλάτεια, οὐκ ἐραστὴν ἀλλʼ ἐρώμενον ἔχειν τὸν Πολύφημον, οἷα ἐπαινεῖς αὐτόν.

Γαλάτεια

οὐκ ἐρώμενον, ἀλλὰ τὸ πάνυ ὀνειδιστικὸν 289 τοῦτο οὐ φέρω ὑμῶν, καί μοι δοκεῖτε ὑπὸ φθόνου αὐτὸ ποιεῖν, ὅτι ποιμαίνων ποτὲ ἀπὸ τῆς σκοπῆς παιζούσας ἡμᾶς ἰδὼν ἐπὶ τῆς ᾐόνος ἐν τοῖς πρόποσι τῆς Αἴτνης, καθʼ ὃ μεταξὺ τοῦ ὄρους καὶ τῆς θαλάττης αἰγιαλὸς ἀπομηκύνεται, ὑμᾶς μὲν οὐδὲ προσέβλεψεν, ἐγὼ δὲ ἐξ ἁπασῶν ἡ καλλίστη ἔδοξα, καὶ μόνῃ ἐμοὶ ἐπεῖχε τὸν ὀφθαλμόν. ταῦτα ὑμᾶς ἀνιᾷ· δεῖγμα γάρ, ὡς ἀμείνων εἰμὶ καὶ ἀξιέραστος, ὑμεῖς δὲ παρώφθητε.

Δῶρις

εἰ ποιμένι καὶ ἐνδεεῖ τὴν ὄψιν καλὴ ἔδοξας, ἐπίφθονος οἴει γεγονέναι; καίτοι τί ἄλλο ἐν σοὶ ἐπαινέσαι εἶχεν ἢ τὸ λευκὸν μόνον; καὶ τοῦτο, οἶμαι, ὅτι ξυνήθης ἐστὶ τυρῷ καὶ γάλακτι· πάντα οὖν τὰ ὅμοια τούτοις ἡγεῖται καλά.

Δῶρις

ἐπεὶ τά γε ἄλλα ὁπόταν ἐθελήσῃς μαθεῖν, οἵα τυγχάνεις οὖσα τὴν ὄψιν, ἀπὸ πέτρας 290 τινός, εἴ ποτε γαλήνη εἴη, ἐπικύψασα ἐς τὸ ὕδωρ ἰδὲ σεαυτὴν οὐδὲν ἄλλο ἢ χρόαν λευκὴν ἀκριβῶς· οὐκ ἐπαινεῖται δὲ τοῦτο, ἢν μὴ ἐπιπρέπῃ αὐτῷ καὶ τὸ ἐρύθημα.

Γαλάτεια

καὶ μὴν ἐγὼ μὲν ἡ ἀκράτως λευκὴ ὅμως ἐραστὴν ἔχω κἂν τοῦτον, ὑμῶν δὲ οὐκ ἔστιν ἥντινα ἢ ποιμὴν ἢ ναύτης ἢ πορθμεὺς ἐπαινεῖ· ὁ δέ γε Πολύφημος τό τε ἄλλα καὶ μουσικός ἐστι.

Δῶρις

σιώπα, ὦ Γαλάτεια· ἠκούσαμεν αὐτοῦ ᾅδοντος ὁπότε ἐκώμασε πρῴην ἐπὶ σέ· Ἀφροδίτη φίλη, ὄνον ἄν τις ὀγκᾶσθαι ἔδοξε. καὶ αὐτὴ δὲ ἡ πηκτὶς οἵα; κρανίον ἐλάφου γυμνὸν τῶν σαρκῶν, καὶ τὰ μὲν κέρατα πήχεις ὥσπερ ἦσαν, ζυγώσας δὲ αὐτὰ καὶ ἐνάψας τὰ νεῦρα, οὐδὲ κόλλοπι περιστρέψας, ἐμελῴδει ἄμουσόν τι καὶ ἀπῳδόν, ἄλλο μὲν αὐτὸς βοῶν, ἄλλο δὲ ἡ λύρα ὑπήχει, ὥστε οὐδὲ κατέχειν τὸν γέλωτα ἐδυνάμεθα ἐπὶ τῷ ἐρωτικῷ ἐκείνῳ ᾅσματι· ἡ μὲν γὰρ Ἠχὼ οὐδὲ ἀποκρίνεσθαι αὐτῷ ἤθελεν οὕτω λάλος οὖσα βρυχωμένῳ, ἀλλʼ ᾐσχύνετο, εἰ φανείη μιμουμένη τραχεῖαν ᾠδὴν καὶ καταγέλαστον. 291

Δῶρις

ἔφερε δὲ ὁ ἐπέραστος ἐν ταῖς ἀγκάλαις ἀθυρμάτιον ἄρκτου σκύλακα τὸ λάσιον αὐτῷ προσεοικότα. τίς οὖν οὐκ ἂν φθονήσειέ σοι, ὦ Γαλάτεια, τοιούτου ἐραστοῦ;

Γαλάτεια

οὐκοῦν σύ, Δωρί, δεῖξον ἡμῖν τὸν σεαυτῆς, καλλίω δῆλον ὅτι ὄντα καὶ ᾠδικώτερον καὶ κιθαρίζειν ἄμεινον ἐπιστάμενον.

Δῶρις

ἀλλʼ ἐραστὴς μὲν οὐδεὶς ἔστι μοι οὐδὲ σεμνύνομαι ἐπέραστος εἶναι· τοιοῦτος δὲ οἷος ὁ Κύκλωψ ἐστί, κινάβρας ἀπόζων ὥσπερ τράγος, ὠμοφάγος, ὥς φασι, καὶ σιτούμενος τοὺς ἐπιδημοῦντας τῶν ξένων, σοὶ γένοιτο καὶ σὺ ἀντερῴης αὐτοῦ.

Θεῶν διάλογοι Perseus (Lucian, Vol. 7. Macleod, Matthew Donald, editor. London: William Heinemann, Ltd.; Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1961 (unrenewed copyright).) — 1 focus

ΔΩΡΙΔΟΣ ΚΑΙ ΓΑΛΑΤΕΙΑΣ

ΔΩΡΙΣ

Καλὸν ἐραστήν, ὦ Γαλάτεια, τὸν Σικελὸν τοῦτον ποιμένα φασὶν ἐπιμεμηνέναι σοί.

ΓΑΛΑΤΕΙΑ

Μὴ σκῶπτε, Δωρί· Ποσειδῶνος γὰρ υἱός ἐστιν, ὁποῖος ἂν ᾖ.

ΔΩΡΙΣ

Τί οὖν; εἰ καὶ τοῦ Διὸς αὐτοῦ παῖς ὢν ἄγριος οὕτως καὶ λάσιος ἐφαίνετο καί, τὸ πάντων ἀμορφότατον, μονόφθαλμος, οἴει τὸ γένος ἄν τι ὀνῆσαι αὐτὸν πρὸς τὴν μορφήν;

ΓΑΛΑΤΕΙΑ

Οὐδὲ τὸ λάσιον αὐτοῦ καί, ὡς φῄς, ἄγριον ἄμορφόν ἐστιν—ἀνδρῶδες γάρ—ὅ τε ὀφθαλμὸς ἐπιπρέπει τῷ μετώπῳ οὐδὲν ἐνδεέστερον ὁρῶν ἢ εἰ δύ' ἦσαν.

ΔΩΡΙΣ

Ἔοικας, ὦ Γαλάτεια, οὐκ ἐραστὴν ἀλλ’ ἐρώμενον ἔχειν τὸν Πολύφημον, οἷα ἐπαινεῖς αὐτόν.

289

ΓΑΛΑΤΕΙΑ

Οὐκ ἐρώμενον, ἀλλὰ τὸ πάνυ ὀνειδιστικὸν τοῦτο οὐ φέρω ὑμῶν, καί μοι δοκεῖτε ὑπὸ φθόνου αὐτὸ ποιεῖν, ὅτι ποιμαίνων ¹ ποτὲ ἀπὸ τῆς σκοπῆς παιζούσας ἡμᾶς ἰδὼν ἐπὶ τῆς ἠϊόνος ἐν τοῖς πρόποσι τῆς Αἴτνης, καθ' ὃ μεταξὺ τοῦ ὄρους καὶ τῆς θαλάσσης αἰγιαλὸς ἀπομηκύνεται, ὑμᾶς μὲν οὐδὲ προσέβλεψεν, ἐγὼ δὲ ἐξ ἁπασῶν ἡ καλλίστη ἔδοξα, καὶ μόνῃ ἐμοὶ ἐπεῖχε τὸν ὀφθαλμόν. ταῦτα ὑμᾶς ἀνιᾷ· δεῖγμα γάρ, ὡς ἀμείνων εἰμὶ καὶ ἀξιέραστος, ὑμεῖς δὲ παρώφθητε.

ΔΩΡΙΣ

Εἰ ποιμένι καὶ ἐνδεεῖ τὴν ὄψιν καλὴ ἔδοξας, ἐπίφθονος οἴει γεγονέναι; καίτοι τί ἄλλο ἐν σοὶ ἐπαινέσαι εἶχεν ἢ τὸ λευκὸν μόνον; καὶ τοῦτο, οἶμαι, ὅτι συνήθης ἐστὶ τυρῷ καὶ γάλακτι· πάντα οὖν τὰ ὅμοια τούτοις ἡγεῖται καλά.

ΔΩΡΙΣ

ἐπεὶ τά γε ἄλλα ὁπόταν ἐθελήσῃς μαθεῖν, οἵα τυγχάνεις οὖσα 290 τὴν ὄψιν, ἀπὸ πέτρας τινός, εἴ ποτε γαλήνη εἴη, ἐπικύψασα ἐς τὸ ὕδωρ ἰδὲ σεαυτὴν οὐδὲν ἄλλο ἢ χροίαν λευκὴν ἀκριβῶς· οὐκ ἐπαινεῖται δὲ τοῦτο, ἢν μὴ ἐπιπρέπῃ αὐτῷ καὶ τὸ ἐρύθημα.

ΓΑΛΑΤΕΙΑ

Καὶ μὴν ἐγὼ μὲν ἡ ἀκράτως λευκὴ ὅμως ἐραστὴν ἔχω κἂν τοῦτον, ὐμῶν δὲ οὐκ ἔστιν ἥντινα ἢ ποιμὴν ἢ ναύτης ἢ πορθμεὺς ἐπαινεῖ· ὁ δέ γε Πολύφημος τά τε ἄλλα καὶ μουσικός ἐστι.

ΔΩΡΙΣ

Σιώπα, ὦ Γαλάτεια· ἠκούσαμεν αὐτοῦ ᾄδοντος ὁπότε ἐκώμασε πρῴην ἐπὶ σέ· Ἀφροδίτη φίλη, ὄνον ἄν τις ὀγκᾶσθαι ἔδοξεν. καὶ αὐτὴ δὲ ἡ πηκτὶς οἵα; κρανίον ἐλάφου γυμνὸν τῶν σαρκῶν, καὶ τὰ μὲν κέρατα πήχεις ὥσπερ ἦσαν, ζυγώσας δὲ αὐτὰ καὶ ἐνάψας τὰ νεῦρα, οὐδὲ κολλάβοις ² περιστρέψας, ἐμελῴδει ἄμουσόν τι καὶ ἀπῳδόν, ἄλλο μὲν αὐτὸς βοῶν, ἄλλο δὲ ἡ λύρα ὑπήχει, ὥστε οὐδὲ κατέχειν τὸν γέλωτα ἐδυνάμεθα ἐπὶ τῷ ἐρωτικῷ ἐκείνῳ ᾄσματι· ἡ μὲν γὰρ Ἠχὼ οὐδὲ ἀποκρίνεσθαι αὐτῷ ἤθελεν οὕτω λάλος οὖσα βρυχομένῳ, ἀλλ’ ᾐσχύνετο, εἰ φανείη μιμουμένη τραχεῖαν ᾠδὴν καὶ καταγέλαστον.

ΔΩΡΙΣ

291 ἔφερεν δὲ ὁ ἐπέραστος ἐν ταῖς ἀγκάλαις ἀθυρμάτιον ³ ἄρκτου σκύλακα τὸ λάσιον ⁴ αὐτῷ προσεοικότα. τίς οὐκ ἂν φθονήσειέ σοι, ὦ Γαλάτεια, τοιούτου ἐραστοῦ;

ΓΑΛΑΤΕΙΑ

Οὐκοῦν σύ, Δωρί, δεῖξον ἡμῖν τὸν σεαυτῆς, καλλίω δῆλον ὅτι ὄντα καὶ ᾠδικώτερον καὶ κιθαρίζειν ἄμεινον ἐπιστάμενον.

ΔΩΡΙΣ

Ἀλλὰ ἐραστὴς μὲν οὐδεὶς ἔστι μοι οὐδὲ σεμνύνομαι ἐπέραστος εἶναι· τοιοῦτος δὲ οἷος ὁ Κύκλωψ ἐστί, κινάβρας ἀπόζων ὥσπερ ὁ τράγος, ὠμοβόρος, ⁵ ὥς φασι, καὶ σιτούμενος τοὺς ἐπιδημοῦντας τῶν ξένων, σοὶ γένοιτο καὶ πάντοτε σὺ ἀντερῴης αὐτοῦ.

Translations (1)

Dialogues of the Gods Perseus (Lucian, Vol. 7. Macleod, Matthew Donald, translator. London: William Heinemann, Ltd.; Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1961 (unrenewed copyright).) — 1 focus

Doris ¹ and Galatea

DORIS

A good-looking lover they say you have, Galatea, in this Sicilian shepherd who’s so mad about you!

GALATEA

None of your jokes, Doris. He’s Poseidon’s son, whatever he looks like.

DORIS

What of it? Though it was a son of Zeus himself that had so wild and hairy an appearance and, most hideous thing of all, only one eye, do you think his birth would help him to be any better-looking?

GALATEA

His wild and hairy appearance, as you call it, isn’t ugly. It’s manly. And his eye goes very nicely with his forehead, and it sees just as well as if it were two.

DORIS

My dear Galatea, from the way you’re praising him, it looks as if your Polyphemus is more loved than loving.

GALATEA

That’s not true; but the way you all criticise him annoys me. If you ask me, I think you’re jealous of the day when, looking after his sheep, he caught sight of us from his watch-point, as we were playing on the shore at the foot of Etna, where there’s a long stretch of beach between the mountain and the sea. He didn’t even look at you, but thought me the prettiest of us all, and was all eye for me and me only. That’s what’s annoying you; because it proves that I’m better than any of you, and that I deserve to be loved. None of you got so much as a glance.

DORIS

Do you think people should be jealous of you, just because a shepherd with bad eyesight thought you pretty? Anyhow, what could he see to praise in you but your white skin? And he only likes that, I imagine, because he’s used to cheese and milk, and so thinks everything like them pretty. .

DORIS

Apart from all that, any time you want to find out what your face really looks like, take a peep into the water from a rock when it’s calm and look at yourself. You’re nothing but white skin. Nobody thinks much of that, unless there’s some rosy colour as well to show it off.

GALATEA

Still, though I am unrelieved white, I have got a lover, even if it’s only Polyphemus. But not one of you has any shepherd or sailor or boatman to admire her. Besides, Polyphemus is musical.

DORIS

You’d better not talk about that, Galatea. We heard his singing the other day, when he came serenading you. Gracious Aphrodite! Anyone would have taken it for the braying of an ass. And as for the lyre itself! What a thing it was! The fleshless skull of a stag! Its horns served as the arms of the lyre and he’d joined them with a yoke, and fitted on his strings, without bothering to twist them round a peg, so that his performance was scarcely tuneful or harmonious, with him roaring away himself in one key, and his lyre accompanying him in another. So we just couldn’t help laughing at such attempts at a love song. For even Echo, who’s such a chatterbox, wouldn’t so much as answer his bellowing, but was ashamed to be caught imitating such a rough, ridiculous song.

DORIS

And your Prince Charming was carrying in his arms as his little plaything a bear-cub just as hairy as himself. Who wouldn’t envy you such a lover, Galatea?

GALATEA

Well, Doris, let us see your own lover. Obviously he’s handsomer, more musical and a better player of the harp.

DORIS

I’ve not got one. I don’t pride myself on being a charmer. But as for a fellow like your Cyclops, that smells as rank as any he-goat, and, by all accounts, eats his meat raw, and makes a meal of visiting strangers—may you keep him for yourself, and ever return his affection.

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I

Doris

Galatea

Doris A handsome lover, Galatea, this Sicilian shepherd who they say is so mad for you!

Galatea Don’t be sarcastic, Doris; he is Posidon’s son, after all.

Doris Well, and if he were Zeus’s, and still such a wild shaggy creature, with only one eye (there is nothing uglier than to have only one eye), do you think his birth would improve his beauty?

Galatea Shagginess and wildness, as you call them, are not ugly in a man; and his eye looks very well in the middle of his forehead, and sees just as well as if it were two.

Doris Why, my dear, from your raptures about him one would think it was you that were in love, not he.

Doris Hoity-toity! jealous indeed! because a one-eyed shepherd thinks you pretty! Why, what could he see in you but your white skin? and he only cared for that because it reminded him of cheese and milk; he thinks everything pretty that is like them.

Doris If you want to know any more than that about your looks, sit on a rock when it is calm, and lean over the water; just a bit of white skin, that is all; and who cares for that, if it is not picked out with some red?

Galatea Well, if I am all white, I have got a lover of some sort; there is not a-shepherd or a sailor or a boatman to care for any of you. Besides, Polyphemus is very musical.

Doris Oh, and the pet that your beau brought you in his arms!—a bear cub nearly as shaggy as himself. Now then, Galatea, do you still think we envy you your lover?

Galatea Well, Doris, only show us your own; no doubt he is much handsomer, and sings and plays far better.

Doris Oh, I have not got one; I do not set up to be lovely. But one like the Cyclops—faugh, he might be one of his own goats!—he eats raw meat, they say, and feeds on travellers— one like him, dear, you may keep; I wish you nothing worse than to return his love.

Current edition Perseus

Δωρίδος καὶ Γαλατείας

Δῶρις καλὸν ἐραστήν, ὦ Γαλάτεια, τὸν Σικελὸν τοῦτον ποιμένα φασὶν ἐπιμεμηνέναι σοί.

Γαλάτεια μὴ σκῶπτε, Δωρί· Ποσειδῶνος γαρ υἱός ἐστιν, ὁποῖος ἂν ᾖ.

Δῶρις ἔοικας, ὦ Γαλάτεια, οὐκ ἐραστὴν ἀλλʼ ἐρώμενον ἔχειν τὸν Πολύφημον, οἷα ἐπαινεῖς αὐτόν.

Γαλάτεια οὐκοῦν σύ, Δωρί, δεῖξον ἡμῖν τὸν σεαυτῆς, καλλίω δῆλον ὅτι ὄντα καὶ ᾠδικώτερον καὶ κιθαρίζειν ἄμεινον ἐπιστάμενον.

ΔΩΡΙΔΟΣ ΚΑΙ ΓΑΛΑΤΕΙΑΣ

ΔΩΡΙΣ Καλὸν ἐραστήν, ὦ Γαλάτεια, τὸν Σικελὸν τοῦτον ποιμένα φασὶν ἐπιμεμηνέναι σοί.

ΓΑΛΑΤΕΙΑ Μὴ σκῶπτε, Δωρί· Ποσειδῶνος γὰρ υἱός ἐστιν, ὁποῖος ἂν ᾖ.

ΓΑΛΑΤΕΙΑ Οὐδὲ τὸ λάσιον αὐτοῦ καί, ὡς φῄς, ἄγριον ἄμορφόν ἐστιν—ἀνδρῶδες γάρ—ὅ τε ὀφθαλμὸς ἐπιπρέπει τῷ μετώπῳ οὐδὲν ἐνδεέστερον ὁρῶν ἢ εἰ δύ' ἦσαν.

ΔΩΡΙΣ Ἔοικας, ὦ Γαλάτεια, οὐκ ἐραστὴν ἀλλ’ ἐρώμενον ἔχειν τὸν Πολύφημον, οἷα ἐπαινεῖς αὐτόν.

ΓΑΛΑΤΕΙΑ Οὐκοῦν σύ, Δωρί, δεῖξον ἡμῖν τὸν σεαυτῆς, καλλίω δῆλον ὅτι ὄντα καὶ ᾠδικώτερον καὶ κιθαρίζειν ἄμεινον ἐπιστάμενον.

Doris 1 and Galatea

DORIS A good-looking lover they say you have, Galatea, in this Sicilian shepherd who’s so mad about you!

GALATEA None of your jokes, Doris. He’s Poseidon’s son, whatever he looks like.

DORIS What of it? Though it was a son of Zeus himself that had so wild and hairy an appearance and, most hideous thing of all, only one eye, do you think his birth would help him to be any better-looking?

GALATEA His wild and hairy appearance, as you call it, isn’t ugly. It’s manly. And his eye goes very nicely with his forehead, and it sees just as well as if it were two.

DORIS My dear Galatea, from the way you’re praising him, it looks as if your Polyphemus is more loved than loving.

DORIS Do you think people should be jealous of you, just because a shepherd with bad eyesight thought you pretty? Anyhow, what could he see to praise in you but your white skin? And he only likes that, I imagine, because he’s used to cheese and milk, and so thinks everything like them pretty. .

DORIS Apart from all that, any time you want to find out what your face really looks like, take a peep into the water from a rock when it’s calm and look at yourself. You’re nothing but white skin. Nobody thinks much of that, unless there’s some rosy colour as well to show it off.

GALATEA Still, though I am unrelieved white, I have got a lover, even if it’s only Polyphemus. But not one of you has any shepherd or sailor or boatman to admire her. Besides, Polyphemus is musical.

DORIS And your Prince Charming was carrying in his arms as his little plaything a bear-cub just as hairy as himself. Who wouldn’t envy you such a lover, Galatea?

GALATEA Well, Doris, let us see your own lover. Obviously he’s handsomer, more musical and a better player of the harp.

DORIS I’ve not got one. I don’t pride myself on being a charmer. But as for a fellow like your Cyclops, that smells as rank as any he-goat, and, by all accounts, eats his meat raw, and makes a meal of visiting strangers—may you keep him for yourself, and ever return his affection.

Stable identifiers

Doris

A handsome lover, Galatea, this Sicilian shepherd who they say is so mad for you!

Galatea

Don’t be sarcastic, Doris; he is Posidon’s son, after all.

Doris

Well, and if he were Zeus’s, and still such a wild shaggy creature, with only one eye (there is nothing uglier than to have only one eye), do you think his birth would improve his beauty?

Galatea

Shagginess and wildness, as you call them, are not ugly in a man; and his eye looks very well in the middle of his forehead, and sees just as well as if it were two.

Doris

Why, my dear, from your raptures about him one would think it was you that were in love, not he.

Doris

Hoity-toity! jealous indeed! because a one-eyed shepherd thinks you pretty! Why, what could he see in you but your white skin? and he only cared for that because it reminded him of cheese and milk; he thinks everything pretty that is like them.

Doris

If you want to know any more than that about your looks, sit on a rock when it is calm, and lean over the water; just a bit of white skin, that is all; and who cares for that, if it is not picked out with some red?

Galatea

Well, if I am all white, I have got a lover of some sort; there is not a-shepherd or a sailor or a boatman to care for any of you. Besides, Polyphemus is very musical.

Doris

Oh, and the pet that your beau brought you in his arms!—a bear cub nearly as shaggy as himself. Now then, Galatea, do you still think we envy you your lover?

Galatea

Well, Doris, only show us your own; no doubt he is much handsomer, and sings and plays far better.

Doris

Oh, I have not got one; I do not set up to be lovely. But one like the Cyclops—faugh, he might be one of his own goats!—he eats raw meat, they say, and feeds on travellers— one like him, dear, you may keep; I wish you nothing worse than to return his love.

Δῶρις

καλὸν ἐραστήν, ὦ Γαλάτεια, τὸν Σικελὸν τοῦτον ποιμένα φασὶν ἐπιμεμηνέναι σοί.

Γαλάτεια

μὴ σκῶπτε, Δωρί· Ποσειδῶνος γαρ υἱός ἐστιν, ὁποῖος ἂν ᾖ.

Δῶρις

ἔοικας, ὦ Γαλάτεια, οὐκ ἐραστὴν ἀλλʼ ἐρώμενον ἔχειν τὸν Πολύφημον, οἷα ἐπαινεῖς αὐτόν.

Γαλάτεια

οὐκοῦν σύ, Δωρί, δεῖξον ἡμῖν τὸν σεαυτῆς, καλλίω δῆλον ὅτι ὄντα καὶ ᾠδικώτερον καὶ κιθαρίζειν ἄμεινον ἐπιστάμενον.

ΔΩΡΙΣ

Καλὸν ἐραστήν, ὦ Γαλάτεια, τὸν Σικελὸν τοῦτον ποιμένα φασὶν ἐπιμεμηνέναι σοί.

ΓΑΛΑΤΕΙΑ

Μὴ σκῶπτε, Δωρί· Ποσειδῶνος γὰρ υἱός ἐστιν, ὁποῖος ἂν ᾖ.

ΓΑΛΑΤΕΙΑ

Οὐδὲ τὸ λάσιον αὐτοῦ καί, ὡς φῄς, ἄγριον ἄμορφόν ἐστιν—ἀνδρῶδες γάρ—ὅ τε ὀφθαλμὸς ἐπιπρέπει τῷ μετώπῳ οὐδὲν ἐνδεέστερον ὁρῶν ἢ εἰ δύ' ἦσαν.

ΔΩΡΙΣ

Ἔοικας, ὦ Γαλάτεια, οὐκ ἐραστὴν ἀλλ’ ἐρώμενον ἔχειν τὸν Πολύφημον, οἷα ἐπαινεῖς αὐτόν.

ΓΑΛΑΤΕΙΑ

Οὐκοῦν σύ, Δωρί, δεῖξον ἡμῖν τὸν σεαυτῆς, καλλίω δῆλον ὅτι ὄντα καὶ ᾠδικώτερον καὶ κιθαρίζειν ἄμεινον ἐπιστάμενον.

Doris ¹ and Galatea

DORIS

A good-looking lover they say you have, Galatea, in this Sicilian shepherd who’s so mad about you!

GALATEA

None of your jokes, Doris. He’s Poseidon’s son, whatever he looks like.

DORIS

What of it? Though it was a son of Zeus himself that had so wild and hairy an appearance and, most hideous thing of all, only one eye, do you think his birth would help him to be any better-looking?

GALATEA

His wild and hairy appearance, as you call it, isn’t ugly. It’s manly. And his eye goes very nicely with his forehead, and it sees just as well as if it were two.

DORIS

My dear Galatea, from the way you’re praising him, it looks as if your Polyphemus is more loved than loving.

DORIS

Do you think people should be jealous of you, just because a shepherd with bad eyesight thought you pretty? Anyhow, what could he see to praise in you but your white skin? And he only likes that, I imagine, because he’s used to cheese and milk, and so thinks everything like them pretty. .

DORIS

Apart from all that, any time you want to find out what your face really looks like, take a peep into the water from a rock when it’s calm and look at yourself. You’re nothing but white skin. Nobody thinks much of that, unless there’s some rosy colour as well to show it off.

GALATEA

Still, though I am unrelieved white, I have got a lover, even if it’s only Polyphemus. But not one of you has any shepherd or sailor or boatman to admire her. Besides, Polyphemus is musical.

DORIS

And your Prince Charming was carrying in his arms as his little plaything a bear-cub just as hairy as himself. Who wouldn’t envy you such a lover, Galatea?

GALATEA

Well, Doris, let us see your own lover. Obviously he’s handsomer, more musical and a better player of the harp.

DORIS

I’ve not got one. I don’t pride myself on being a charmer. But as for a fellow like your Cyclops, that smells as rank as any he-goat, and, by all accounts, eats his meat raw, and makes a meal of visiting strangers—may you keep him for yourself, and ever return his affection.