Book 3
1
What’s all this, Alpheus? When you run into the sea, you’re the only one that doesn’t mix with the salt water like all the other rivers! You don’t disperse and give yourself a rest, but go through the sea without disintegrating, and keep your water fresh! You dive right down like a gull or a heron, and hurry on, I don’t know where, undiluted and pure. I suppose you’ll pop up again somewhere and show yourself once more.
1
It’s a matter of love, Poseidon; so no questions, please; you’ve been in love often enough yourself.
1
Is it a woman you love, Alpheus, or a Nymph or a Nereid from the sea?
1
No, Poseidon, a fountain.
1
And where on earth does she have her waters?
1
In an island—in Sicily; they call her Arethusa.
2
I know Arethusa, and she’s not at all bad-looking. She’s translucent and gushes up pure. Her water makes a pretty picture along with her pebbles, all of it gleaming above them like silver.
2
You certainly do know my fountain, Poseidon. Well, I’m off to her.
2
Off with you, then, and good luck in your love. But tell me, where did you see her? You’re from Arcadia, and she’s at Syracuse.
2
I’m in a hurry, Poseidon, and you’re delaying me with these pointless questions.
2
Well spoken. Away with you to your beloved, come up from the sea, mingle with your fountain and become one water.
