《仲夏夜之梦》第三幕第二场中仙王奥布朗说：
But we are spirits of another sort.
I with the morning’s love have oft made sport
这里“morning's love", 指黎明女神之情人。根据wiki, 黎明女神Eos/Aurora 主要的情人是 Cephalus, Tithonus, Orion and Cleitus, 当中Cephalus 与 Orion 都是猎人。 网上资料倾向于Cephalus。相关资料摘抄于下：
”厄俄斯（希腊语：Έως 英语：Eos）古希腊神话中的黎明女神，相对应于古罗马神话中的欧若拉（拉丁语：Aurora），是提坦神许珀里翁与忒亚的女儿，太阳神赫利俄斯和月亮女神塞勒涅的姐姐。每天她都亲自为弟弟赫利俄斯用她晨雾一般的手掀开东边天门（希腊语：Θύρα της Ανατολής），让他乘日车进来，开始他在天空朝发夕至之旅。传说里她每到一处，散发着清香的花瓣和玫瑰香水的水珠便坠落在地上成为露水“。
”刻法罗斯是希腊神话中赫耳墨斯和赫尔斯（Herse）的儿子。他的妻子是厄瑞克修斯的女儿普罗克里丝。但是他后来在打猎时被曙光女神厄俄斯Eos（罗马神话中的欧若拉——Aurora）所诱拐，同后者育有三个儿子。然而刻法罗斯思妻心切，愤愤的女神只好将他送回——但对这对夫妇施加了诅咒。刻法罗斯在一次打猎的时候失手杀死了自己的妻子，她倒在他的怀里，最后恳求他不要再回到伊俄丝的身边。于是他离开了阿提卡，来到凯法利尼亚岛建立了最早的定居点“。
Cephalus And Procris by Harriet Fulchran Jean
奥维德的《变形记》中，妻子普罗克里丝以为 “Aura” 是刻法罗斯的情人，遂起疑心，去林中察看，被丈夫误击，倒在她自己赠给丈夫的长矛下：
Bk VII:796-865 The death of Procris
‘Phocus, my happiness was the beginning of my sorrow, and I will speak of happiness first. Son of Aeacus, what a joy it is to remember that blessed time, when, in those early years, I was delighted, and rightly so, with my wife, and she was delighted with her husband. We two had mutual cares, and a shared love. She would not have preferred Jupiter’s bed to my love, and no woman could have captured me, not if Venus herself had come there. An equal flame burnt in our hearts.
Just after dawn, when the first rays struck the hilltops, full of youthfulness, I used to go hunting in the woods. I used to take no servants, or horses, or keen-scented hounds, or knotted snares. I trusted in my spear. But when my right hand was sated with the slaughter of wild creatures, I would return to the cool of the shade, and the breeze, aura, out of the chill valleys. I courted the breeze, gentle to me, in the midst of the heat: I waited for aura: she was rest for my labour. “Aura” (Indeed, I remember) I used to call “Come to me, delight me, enter my breast, most pleasing one, and, as you do, be willing to ease this heat I burn with!” Perhaps I did add more endearments (so my fate led me on). “You are my greatest pleasure” I used to say. “You revive me, and cherish me. You make me love the woods and lonely places. It is always your breath I try to catch with my lips.”
Someone, I don’t know who, hearing the ambiguous words, represented my speech as a betrayal, and thought the word aura I called so often, was the name of a nymph, a nymph he believed I loved. Immediately the unthinking witness went to Procris with the tale of my imagined disloyalty, and whispered what he had heard. Love is a credulous thing. Overcome with sudden pain, they tell me that she fainted. After a long time she revived, weeping for herself, calling her fate evil. She complained of my faithlessness, and troubled by an imaginary crime, she feared what was nothing, feared a name without substance, and grieved, the unhappy woman, as though aura were a real rival.
Yet she often doubted, and hoped, in her misery, that she was wrong, declaring she would not believe it, and unless she witnessed it herself, would not condemn her husband as guilty of any crime. Next morning, when Dawn’s light had dispelled the night I left to seek the woods, and, victorious from the hunt, lying on the grass, I said “Aura, come and relieve my suffering!” and suddenly, amongst my words, I thought I heard someone’s moan. “Come, dearest!” I still said, and as the fallen leaves made a rustling sound in reply, I thought it was a wild creature, and threw my spear quickly. It was Procris. Clasping the wound in her breast she cried out “Ah, me!”
Recognising it as the voice of my faithful wife, I ran headlong and frantic towards that voice. I found her half-alive, her clothes sprinkled with drops of blood, and (what misery!) trying to pull this spear, her gift to me, from the wound. I lifted her body, dearer to me than my own, with gentle arms, tore the fabric from her breast, and bound up the cruel wound, trying to stem the blood, begging her not to leave me, guilty of her death. Though her strength was failing, and even though she was dying, she forced herself to speak a little. “By the bed we swore to share, by the gods that I entreat, those that are above, and those that are of my house, by any good I have deserved of you, and by the abiding love, that still, while I die, remains, that is itself the cause of my death, do not allow this Aura to marry you in my place!” She spoke, and then I knew at last the error of the name, and told her. But what was the use of telling? She wavered, and the little strength she had ebbed away with her blood. While she could still gaze at anything, she gazed at me; and to me, and on my lips, breathed out her unfortunate spirit. And her look seemed easier then, untroubled by death.’
The hero, weeping, had told this sorrowful tale, when, behold, Aeacus entered with his two sons, and their newly enlisted men, whom Cephalus then accepted, with all their heavy armour.
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