What is the myth of Apollo and Daphne?

Apollo and Daphne





Daphne was Apollo's first love. It was not brought about by


accident, but by the malice of Cupid. Apollo saw the boy playing


with his bow and arrows; and being himself elated with his recent


victory over Python, he said to him, "What have you to do with


warlike weapons, saucy boy? Leave them for hands worthy of them.


Behold the conquest I have won by means of them over the vast


serpent who stretched his poisonous body over acres of the plain!


Be content with your torch, child, and kindle up your flames, as


you call them, where you will, but presume not to meddle with my


weapons."





Venus's boy heard these words, and rejoined, ":Your arrows may


strike all things else, Apollo, but mine shall strike you.:" So


saying, he took his stand on a rock of Parnassus, and drew from


his quiver two arrows of different workmanship, one to excite


love, the other to repel it. The former was of gold and sharp-


pointed, the latter blunt and tipped with lead. With the leaden


shaft he struck the nymph Daphne, the daughter of the river god


Peneus, and with the golden one Apollo, through the heart.


Forthwith the god was seized with love for the maiden, and she


abhorred the thought of loving. Her delight was in woodland


sports and in the spoils of the chase. Many lovers sought her,


but she spurned them all, ranging the woods, and taking thought


neither of Cupid nor of Hymen. Her father often said to her,


"Daughter, you owe me a son-in-law; you owe me grandchildren."


She, hating the thought of marriage as a crime, with her


beautiful face tinged all over with blushes, threw her arms


around her father's neck, and said, "Dearest father, grant me


this favor, that I may always remain unmarried, like Diana." He


consented, but at the same time said, "Your own face will forbid


it."





Apollo loved her, and longed to obtain her; and he who gives


oracles to all in the world was not wise enough to look into his


own fortunes. He saw her hair flung loose over her shoulders,


and said, "If so charming in disorder, what would it be if


arranged?" He saw her eyes bright as stars; he saw her lips, and


was not satisfied with only seeing them. He admired her hands


and arms bared to the shoulder, and whatever was hidden from view


he imagined more beautiful still. He followed her; she fled,


swifter than the wind, and delayed not a moment at his


entreaties. "Stay," said he, "daughter of Peneus; I am not a


foe. Do not fly me as a lamb flies the wolf, or a dove the hawk.


It is for love I pursue you. You make me miserable, for fear you


should fall and hurt yourself on these stones, and I should be


the cause. Pray run slower, and I will follow slower. I am no


clown, no rude peasant. Jupiter is my father, and I am lord of


Delphos and Tenedos, and know all things, present and future. I


am the god of song and the lyre. My arrows fly true to the mark;


but alas! An arrow more fatal than mine has pierced my heart! I


am the god of medicine, and know the virtues of all healing


plants. Alas! I suffer a malady that no balm can cure!"





The nymph continued her flight, and left his plea half uttered.


And even as she fled she charmed him. The wind blew her


garments, and her unbound hair streamed loose behind her. The


god grew impatient to find his wooings thrown away, and, sped by


Cupid, gained upon her in the race. It was like a hound pursuing


a hare, with open jaws ready to seize, while the feebler animal


darts forward, slipping from the very grasp. So flew the god and


the virgin he on the wings of love, and she on those of fear.


The pursuer is the more rapid, however, and gains upon her, and


his panting breath blows upon her hair. Now her strength begins


to fail, and, ready to sink, she calls upon her father, the river


god: "Help me, Peneus! Open the earth to enclose me, or change


my form, which has brought me into this danger!"





Scarcely had she spoken, when a stiffness seized all her limbs;


her bosom began to be enclosed in a tender bark; her hair became


leaves; her arms became branches; her feet stuck fast in the


ground, as roots; her face became a tree-top, retaining nothing


of its former self but its beauty. Apollo stood amazed. He


touched the stem, and felt the flesh tremble under the new bark.


He embraced the branches, and lavished kisses on the wood. The


branches shrank from his lips. "Since you cannot be my wife,"


said he, "you shall assuredly be my tree. I will wear you for my


crown. With you I will decorate my harp and my quiver; and when


the great Roman conquerors lead up the triumphal pomp to the


Capitol, you shall be woven into wreaths for their brows. And,


as eternal youth is mine, you also shall be always green, and


your leaf know no decay." The nymph, now changed into a laurel


tree, bowed its head in grateful acknowledgment.





Apollo was god of music and of poetry and also of medicine. For,


as the poet Armstrong says, himself a physician:--





"Music exalts each joy, allays each grief,


Expels disease, softens every pain;


And hence the wise of ancient days adored


One power of physic, melody, and song."





The story of Apollo and Daphne is often alluded to by the poets.


Waller applies it to the case of one whose amatory verses, though


they did not soften the heart of his mistress, yet won for the


poet wide-spread fame.





"Yet what he sung in his immortal strain,


Though unsuccessful, was not sung in vain.


All but the nymph that should redress his wrong,


Attend his passion and approve his song.


Like Phoebus thus, acquiring unsought praise,


He caught at love and filled his arms with bays."





The following stanza from Shelley's Adonais alludes to Byron's


early quarrel with the reviewers:--





"The herded wolves, bold only to pursue;


The obscene ravens, clamorous o'er the dead;


The vultures, to the conqueror's banner true,


Who feed where Desolation first has fed.


And whose wings rain contagion; how they fled,


When like Apollo, from his golden bow,


The Pythian of the age one arrow sped


And smiled! The spoilers tempt no second blow;


They fawn on the proud feet that spurn them as they go."





~The end~

What is the myth of Apollo and Daphne?
It is the thing that happens to guys who are totally taken by some hot chick and end up broken hearted because they are dissappointed that their approaches have come to naught.
Reply:Daphne was a green-haired nymph who preferred the all-virgin, huntress life of Artemis and her attendants. When Apollo took a fancy to her, she fled from him and prayed for Artemis to help her escape. As Apollo closed in on her, she turned into a laurel tree, with leaves the color of her hair. Apollo wore a laurel wreath in her honor. (The name "Daphne means "laurel.")








James Russell Lowell wrote these lines about them in "A Fable for Critics":





Phoebus, sitting one day in a laurel tree’s shade,


Was reminded of Daphne, of whom it was made,


For the god being one day too warm in his wooing,


She took to the tree to escape his pursuing;


Be the cause what it might, from his offers she shrunk,


And Ginevra-like shut herself up in a trunk;


And, though ‘twas a step into which he had driven her,


He somehow or other had never forgiven her;


Her memory he nursed as a kind of a tonic,


Something bitter to chew when he’d play the Byronic,


And I can’t count the obstinate nymphs he brought over


By a strange kind of smile he put on when he thought of her.


“My case is like Dido’s,” he sometimes remarked


When I last saw my love, she was fairly embarked


In a laurel, as she thought—but (ah, how Fate mocks!)


She has found it by this time a very bad box;


Let hunters from me take this saw when they need it—


You’re not always sure of your game when you’ve treed it!


Just conceive such a change taking place in one’s mistress!


What romance would be left?—Who can flatter or kiss trees?


And for mercy’s sake, how could one keep up a dialogue


With a dull wooden thing that will live and will die a log—


Not to say that the thought would forever intrude


That you’ve less chance to win her the more she is wood?


Ah, it went to my heart, and the memory still grieves,


To see those loved graces all taking their leaves;


Those charms beyond speech, so enchanting but now,


As they left me forever, each making its bough!


If the tongue had a tang sometimes more than was right,


Her new bark is worse than ten times her old bite.”
Reply:According to Greek myth, Apollo chased the nymph Daphne (Greek meaning "laurel"), daughter either of Peneus and Creusa, or of Ladon. His infatuation was caused by an arrow from Eros, who wanted to make Apollo pay for making fun of his archery skills. Eros also claimed to be irritated by Apollo's singing. Daphne prayed to the river god Peneus to help her and he transformed her into a laurel, which became sacred to Apollo.


To read the full myth click here http://ancienthistory.about.com/library/...
Reply:In short :--





Apollo fell in love with a nymph named Daphne. He chased her, she ran away, prayed for help, and was turned into a laurel tree. Apollo took leaves from the plant for his crown.





The most famous and colourful version of the story is by the Roman poet Ovid :


http://www.theoi.com/Nymphe/NympheDaphne...
Reply:Rather than go into it here, I'll just direct you to WikiPedia's helpful quotation of Bullfinch below. Hope that helps!

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