There was a lovely nymph named Daphne. She was the daughter of Peneus, who was god of the river that bore the same name in the land of Thessalia. Daphne, being a nymph, felt a strong allegiance to Artemis, the goddess of the forests. Artemis vowed to remain unmarried, and so it was with Daphne who begged her father to never force her to wed. Peneus consented to this, but at the same time said, “Your own face will forbid it.”

Apollo, the god of light and music, had seen Daphne in his sister’s woodland court. He was smitten with Daphne’s beauty. Apollo went to her when she was alone in the woods, and was determined to have her. (He was still a young god at the time, and had not yet learned humility or a respect for others.) Apollo announced to her his intentions. She tried to explain her devotion to his sister and to respect her own dedication to chastity. Apollo was stupefied that this nymph had rejected his offer. Angrily, he grabbed at her and tore at her clothes. She escaped and ran through the trees, toward the river to her father. Apollo made chase, determined to stop her. She was nearly in reach of the riverbank, but Apollo was closer. She called to her father for help. Peneus knew there was nothing he could do to stop Zeus’s golden son. Instead, as Daphne’s toe touched the wet earth of the muddy bank, her feet became roots, her body became covered with a supple bark, and her limbs became branches.

Apollo, shocked by the transformation of the struggling girl in his arms, was remorseful over what he had done. “Since you cannot be my wife,” he said, “I will make you my tree. I will always wear you for my crown. As eternal youth is mine, you shall always be green, and your leaf know no decay.” Daphne had changed into a laurel tree. It suited her, and she was much happier for it.

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