Virgil's Bucolicks Engished [sic]. VVhereunto is added the translation of the two first satyrs of Iuvenal. By Iohn Bidle

VIRGIL'S BVCOLICKS.

THE FIRST ECLOGVE, OR, TITYRVS.

THE ARGVMENT.

Blest Tityrus his Fautor God doth stile, Whilst Melibie deplores his hard Exile.

MELIBOEVS. TITYRVS.

THou, Tityrus, in shroud of Beech, dost play On slender Oaten-pipe a Sylvan lay; Our Native Confines We abandon: We Our pleasant Granges, & our Country flee: Thou, Tityrus, i'th' shade reposing still, Learn'st the woods to resound faire Amarill.

Tit.

God is the Source of this our happy Rest, O Melibaeus! Him I will invest Ay with that Name; A tender Lambling, ta'n From our Cotes, oft his Altars shall distain. My Neat to freely graze (thou seest:) and me On Reed to play my Fill, permitted He.

Me.

Sure I Envie not, but Admire thy State: Through all our Countrey, ev'ry where, of Late,

We by the Souldier are embroiled so. Far-off I, sickly, drive my Goatlings, lo, And, Tityrus, can scarce This lug along; For earst she eaning, th' Hazels thicke among, Her twins, the Flock's Hope, on a bare Flint letr. Oft this Disaster (had we not been rest (Dull Sots!) of Sence!) the Lightning-blasted Okes By sure Ostents portended, and the Rook's Ill-boading Notes from th' hollow Holmen Tree! But tell me, Tit'rus, who that God should bee.

Ti.

With that Vast City, which they Rome doe call, I (Foole!) did parallel our Mantua Small, Where oft We, Shep-heards, sell our tender Lambs. Now I haue known Thus kidlings like their Dams; Whelps, like their Bitches: Thus compare I did Great things with small: But Her cloud-threatning Head As much 'bove other Cities towreth up, As Cypresses the Dwarfe Shrubs over top.

Me.

And what such great cause hadst Thou Rome to see?

Ti.

Sweet Liberty, which re-saluted mee With Later, but with Better Visits farre, After my downy Beard I first did sheare. She re-saluted Me, and came agen Long after, since that Galataea (when Me Amarillis had) deserted me. For (for I will confesse) of Libertie No Hope, no Care of my Estate I had; While I with Rustick Galataea staid. Though many a Victim from my Sheepe folds went, And fat Cheese to that thank-lesse Towne I sent, Yet ne'r my Fist well-monied did returne.

Me.

I mus'd why Thou the Gods didst call and mourne; And for whose Sake Thou sufferd'st, Amarill The Ripe Fruit on the Trees to dangle still

—'Twas Tityrus went Hence; The Pine-Trees tall, Thee, Tityrus, the Founts, and Groves did call.

Ti.

What should I doe? Me from the servile Yoke I neither could loose, nor, else-where, invoke The like propitious Gods. Here, Melibie, I did that vn-corrivald Stripling see, For whose sole Sake twice sixe dayes ev'ry yeere, Our Altars smoak. He First my Wishes Here Sing'd with these Answerrs; Boys (as earst ye did) Yoke your vn-wilded Buls, your Oxen feed.

Me.

Blest Old-Man, therefore shall thy Country Grange Remaine, and big enough for Thee to range: " Though It an over-peering Hill doth bound, " And a thick muddy Plash bemoat It round " Tn'vn-wonted Clover shall not hurt thy stocke Of Pregnant Ewes: Nor shall thy Neighbour's Flock Infect Them with the Scab. Old happy Man, Here shalt Thou' mongst the wel known Rivers than, And sacred springs, be with coole Brieses fand, On this side, th' Hedge, that parts thy Neighbors Land From Thine, (which for the blooming willow-Trees Is alwaies haunted by Hyblaean Bees) Thee shall invite, with gentle buzzing Noise To take sweet Naps oft. With exalted voice Sing shall (on t' other Side) the Loppers shrill, Downe at the Bases of a lofty Hill. Nor shall hoarse Ring-doves (thy care) cease to woo; Nor Turtle from the airy Elme to coo.

Ti.

The light Stags therefore shall feed in the Sky, And Seas leave on the shore their Fishes dry: (Deserting Both their Native Country's Blis) The exild Parthian shall drinke Araris; The german, Ty••••is: From his Countenance 'Fore I my min••••ull Hearts eyes will askance.

Me.

But We, some to the thirsty Africans, Hence quick will poast; some to the Scythians; To Cretan swift Oaxis some confin'd; And Britons quite from the whole World disjoin'd. Lo I shall I (wretched Exile) kenning e're My Native Confines, after many a yeare; And Turf thatcht Contect of my Cottage poore, (My Petty Kingdome) It admire therefore? Shall th' impious Souldier be possest of These So-well tild Earshes? The Barbarian seaze These Crops? Lo! Neighbours to what Miserie Discord hath brought Vs? Lo! for Whom have we Sown our manured Acres! Pear-Trees now Grafe. Melihoeus; into Ranges bow Thy Vines! ye bounding Goats, avant, avant Ye (sometime Happy) Goats! Far-off: I sha'n't, (In a greene Cave imbowl'd) Hereafter You, From a Thorn-bristled Mountaine hanging view. To You no war bling Ditties shall I sing; The flowring Cythisse (I you pasturing) Nor then the bitter Willowes shall you brouz.

Ti.

But yet vouchsafe my shed thy Rendez-vouz. This Night, and on green Leaves repose with Me; We (for thy Supper) mellow Apples; We Fresh-gathered Chest nuts have at Home, and store Of new-made Cheese: And now bemisted o're With dusky Smoake are th' Hamlets Summits all, And greater shadowes from High Mountaines fall.

THE SECOND ECLOGVE. OR, ALEXIS.

THE ARGVMENT.

Thril'd with God Cupid's shafts, (though in despaire) Poore Corydon pursues Alexis Faire,

THe Shepheard Corydon lov'd Alexis faire, His Masters Darling: but with hope lesse Care. He only to the Glades his course did frame, And' mongst the tufted Beeches daily came; There did He to the Woods, and Mountaines vent This moody Ditty, with a vaine Intent. Alexis dire! Thou sleight' st all Layes of Mine! Relent-lesse art! Mak'st Me to die (in fine!) Now even the Cattell in the shade reside: Now thorn-full Brakes even the greene Lizards hide. Thestylis, for the Mowers tir'd i'th Sun, Now Garlicke, and wild-Bettony deth pun, Strong-senting Hearbs: But with my warbling sound, And Grashopper's hoarse Notes the Groves rebound, As I in Quest of Thee (while Phoebus glowes) Do roam. Was it not better Me t'expose To Amaril's sad Ire, and haughty Pride? Not better was't Menalcas to abide? Though he were Blacke, Thou White. Faire, None-such Be not too-confident on Beauty's Blaze. (Face, Vnsullied Privet-Flowres do fall (we see;) Blacke Violets are cropt. Thou scornest Mee, Nor, who I am, enquit'st; What store I keepe Of Milke; How many snow-white fleeced sheepe.

My thousand Ewes stray on Sicilian Hils; When Summer scorches, and when Winter chils, New-milke I have: such quav'ring Airs I sing, As that sweet Hymnist, (the Heards summoning) Theban Amphion earst to chant was wont, In Aracinth, that on the shore doth front. Nor am I so deform'd, this Face of mine. I viewd i'th Mirror of the calmed Brine, Late standing on the Beach; Contend I dare, Thou Iudge, (If true's my Counterfeit) for Faire With Daphnis. O, would it might please Thee well, I'th' Countrey (sor did deem'd of Thee) to dwell! And seat thy Mansion in our low-built sheds; And Stage transfix; and drive the frisking Kids To the Marsh mallowes, chanting th' woods among, Like Pan, the Diapason of thy song. Pan many Reeds did First together glue With Wax: Pan favours Sheep, and Sheep heards too. Nor e'r repent t'have worn thy Lip with play: How toild Amy〈…〉〈…〉t for skill in Musick's Lay? With seven unequall Reeds a Pipe I have Compact, which earst Damatas to Me gave, And dying (Thou'rt the Second Owner) said; He spake: Amyntus envi'd, ill apaid. Besides two Young-Rces, in an vn-safe Vale Late found, I have; whose yet-py'd Skins are all- Be-spect with white; They suck dry ev'ry day An Ew's two Teats; which earst to have away Me Thestylis importun'd, and she shall, Because Thou prizest not our Gifts at all. Faire Boy, come hither; Lo! in crowded Maunds The Nymphets bring Thee Lilyes. With her Hands Spruse Nais, cropping Tops of Poppys stammell, And Violets, thy Ghirlands doth enammell

Made with Narcissus sweet, and lushious Dill; Then adding other Hearbs of fragrant smell, The Hyacinth she deftly doth be-frindge With the fine Mary-gold of Saffron I indge. My-selfe I'l downy Quinces pluck with care, And Chest-nuts, to my Amarillis deare; Soft Plums I'l add, and Honour shall accrew To them; And O ye Laurels, crop-off you, Thee, amarous Myrtle, next; for placed thus, Perfumes ye mixe most odoriferous. Thou'rt Carydon a Clown: Alexis Fair Thy gifts doth scorne; Iölas Debonair, (If Gifts enforce thy Claim) will Thee out-vy: Alas! what meant I wretch? let in have I To th' Flowrs danke Auster, whiffing with his Wings; Fount-troubling Bores, to the pure christall Springs. From Whom, ah frantick Boy, dost fling so fast? Even Gods have in the Woods their Mansion plac't, And Paris: In her selfe-rais'd Turrets bright Let Pallas dwell; Vs the Woods sole delight The Lionesse, the Wolfe: the Wole doth vse The Goat to follow: the blith Goat pursues The Cythisse: Thee, Alexis, Coridon. All Fancys choice delights attend upon. The Bullocks, lo, bring home againe the Plows; And Sol departing, 'bout Earth's gloomy Brows Night' gins to spread her Curtaines: yet I glow With love; For what mean doth fell Cupid know What thus infuriates Thee, Corydon? A vine Thou hast at home halfe prun'd, upon A leavie Elone; Go, Rather Osiers take, And pliant Bul-rushes, and quickly make Vtensils needfull. If This prove vn-kind, A Debonair Alexis Thou shalt find.

THE THIRD ECLOGVE. OR, PALAEMON.

THE ARGVMENT.

The Sheep-heards entring Lists with furious Rage, Are stickled by Palaemon's Vmpirage.

MENALCAS. DAMOETAS. PALAEMON.

Me

VVHo owns these Sheepe, Damoetas? Melibie?

Da.

No, AEgon; AEgon lately took'em Me.

Me

Still hap-lesse Sheepe! While AEgon (courting Her) Feares lest Neoera Met' Him-selfe prefer: The Ewes each howre this Hireling milketh twice, That both exhausted is the Cattels Iuice, And the poore Lamblings of their Milke beguild.

Da.

But, sir, to Men those Feats up-braid more milde. We know where Thou, looking askew, wast tane, And (out the gentle Nymphs smild) in what Fane.

Me.

Twas Then, when Mycon's Copse they saw Me top With an ill Cycle, and his new Vines lop.

Da.

Or, at th' old Beeches, Here, when Daphnis Bow, And shafts Thou brok'st: which when re-given, Thou, Perverse Menalcas, sawst, thy choller sweld, And (He vn-spited) spleen thy Life had queld.

Me.

When such Buffons even theevish Servants bee, Then what shall Masters doe? did I not see Thee, Varlet, stealing Damons Goat, when I, His Mongrell barking, Holla Thiefe, did cry? And said; In one my Flocks drive, Tit'rus, Here; Then didst Thou skulke behind a sedgy Peere. Out sung by Me, should He the Goat, Before Gaind by my Pipes demerit, not restore?

If Thou knowst not, 'twas Mine, confest to Me By Damon, but surrendred could not be.

Me.

Thou, Him, in singing—hadst a Pipe e'r glude With waxe? wast Thou not wont, Thou bungler rude, Tinfest the High-waies with thy yels, and double Thy balefull Ditties with a squeeking stuble.

Da.

By Turne shalls both our Skills in singing try? This Heifer I lay down (Left thou deny, Twice a-day milkt, two sucklings fosters she) Say for what wager Thou wilt Cope with Me.

Me.

Nought of the Flocke with Thee ingage I must: A Sire I have at Home, a step-dame curst. Both twice a-day the sheepe; The Kids she tells Besides. But, what thy selfe shall say excells, (Sith Thou'rt so peevish) I will bett a Paire Of Beechen Cups, carv'd by that Artist rare Alcimedon: on which a pliant Vine Most featly turnd, doth amorously combine With berry'd Ivy; Embost, midst of All, Two Figures are, Conon, and (what I call) He, that with's Iacob-staffe this Mundan Bowle, When Mowers should py'd Tellus Tresses powle, Describ'd what Seasons are for Plow-men fit: Which with my Lips vntoucht I keepe as yet.

Da.

So two for Vs the same Alcimedon made, Whose Eares soft twining Bears-foot doth o'r shade; I'th' midst He Orpheus, and th' Woods following set: Which with my Lips vntoucht I keepe as yet. The Heifer view, Thou' lt not the Cups inhance.

Me.

Thou shalt ne'r scape to day. I will advance On any Terms: Let's only put it to Yon' Mans Arbitrement. Palamon lo! I'l make ye, Sirra, never dare agen. Let's to't; No stay shall be found in Me then,

Nor reake I any. Only this I pray, Neighbour Palaemon peiz it; 'tis no Toy.

Pa.

Sing, sith We in the tender Grasse repose, And now each Meadow, now each Sapling blowes; The Woods Now flourish, the yeare's fairest Now. Begin, Damaetas, first; Then follow Thou Menalcas. Ye shall both by Turne rehearse: The sacred Muses love Alternate Verse.

Da.

My Song beginneth from All-filling Jove: He's Tellus Fautor: He my Verse doth love.

Me.

And Me Don Phoebus favours: His Gifts ay I have, both sweet red Hyacinth, and Bay.

Da.

At me an Apple Galataea flings: (First ey'd by me) Then to the Willow springs.

Me.

But Me Amynt, un-woo'd, doth visit so, That our Dogs doe not better Delia know.

Da.

I for my Minion have got Gifts: for I A Neast of airy Ring-Doues earst did spy.

Me.

Ten Limmons to the Boy, (so stored Then) I sent: I'l send to-morrow t' other Ten.

Da.

What Words to Vs did Galataea say? Some part, ye Winds, to the Gods eares convay!

Me.

What boots it though, Amynt, Thou lov'st Me, The Bores Thou chacest, if I keep the Toiles? (whiles

Da.

Iôlas, Phillis send (my Birth-day 'tis:) Come Thou, when I to Ceres sacrifice.

Me.

She hath my Heart: My Going she did rue, Saying, fair Jôlas, Long Adieu, Adieu. (downe;

Da.

The Wolfe, the stals; Ripe Fruits, showrs drizling Trees, boistrous Winds annoy; Me, phillis Frowne.

Me.

Withy love teeming Cattell; Corne, a showr; Kids, Arbuts; I, Amynt my Paramour.

Da.

Our Muse (though Rustick) is to Pollio deare; Ye Muses, for your Reader feed a steare.

Me.

A Bull feed for Him, (He the Poet plaies) Whole Hornes may grow, whose Hooves the sand may raise.

Da.

Let thy Friend, Polli••, come where thou dost come, Let Hony flow There; Thornes beare Amomum.

Me.

Who hates not Bavius Rimes, let him love thine, Ranke Maevius: He-Goates milke, and Foxes ioyne.

Da.

Ye Boys, that flowers, and Strawb'rys plucke apace, Fly hence; a cold Snake lurketh in the Grasse.

Me.

Let not the Sheepe approach the Banke too nigh a Now even the Ram his soaked Fleece doth dry.

Da.

My Goatlings, Tit'rus, from the River bring: When time shall serve, I'l rinse'em in the Spring.

Me.

Lads, shroud the Ewes: If their milke dri'd up be, (As Lare) in vaine their Vdders squeez shall We.

Da.

How lanke my Bull is in a Pasture battle! The same Love pines the master, and the Cattle.

Me.

Love's not the cause These bare-bon'd are, & flender: Some ill eye fascinates my Lamblings tender.

Da.

Tell (and Thou shalt be great Appollo) where Heav'n three Els open (no more) doth appeare.

Me.

Tell where Flowrs grow, upon whose Crowners fine Kings Names are writ, and Phyllis shall be Thine.

Pa.

No such great mutuall Fewd compose must We, Thou'rt worthy of the Heifer, so is He; And who-e'r Bitter tryes, or Sweet Loves dreads. Lads shut the Rivers, sated are the Meads.

THE FOVRTH ECLOGVE. OR, POLLIO.

THE ARGVMENT.

Reviving Sibyl's verse, in Golden Rimes, Our Poet Here presageth Golden Times.

SIcilian Muses Now some Loftier Strain: Low Tamarisks, and Shrubs do never gain All Fancies Liking. If we caroll forth The Woods, the Woods may suit the Consul's Worth, Laps'd Now's the Iron Age by Sibyl sung: A-fresh the Old Worlds Renovation's sprung: The Virgin Now returnes, and Saturn's Raigne: Now a New Off-spring's sent of Heavenly strain. This Boy (the Period of the Iron Age, That doth, Lucina, Golden Times presage) His Mother's pregnant Womb as thy Hand laies, Favour: The Scepter thy Apollo swayes. This blist-full Age, Thou Consul, shall begin, Drad Pollio, and the Great Moneths Vsher in. Then Civill-Wars surviving Relicks quel'd, From Feare to quit the Earth shall be compel'd. He shall be deifide in blest Abodes, Seeing, and Seen of Heroes mixt with Gods. And with his Father's Martiall Prowes, the Earth Composed, rule. But, Sweet Boy, on thy Birth, Tellus, uncultivated, shall bestow Green Lady-Gloves and crawling Ivy too, As her first Gifts; and Beares-foot virent still, Mixt with Egyptian-Beans of lushious Smell.

Their Vdders stuft with Milk the She-Goats shall Bring Home; nor Lyon saw the Heards at all. Most odoriferous Flowers shall proceed Even from thy Cradle, and each bain-full Weed Dy, with the Serpent: Sprouting ev'ry where Assyrian Amomum shall appeare. But when thy Sire's Exploits, and Heroes Fame Thou, reading, shalt discerne true Vertues Name, The Field shall yellow grow with Eares of Corn, And red Grapes dangle on th' ncultive Thorn; And fragrant Hony from hard-Okes shall drain. Yet shall few Seeds of Ancient Fraud remain, Towns causing to immure, and Thetis sweep With Keels, and slice the Earth with surrowes deep. Another famous Typhis shall be Then; Another Argo, to waft o'r agen Selected Heroes; other Warres befall; Again great-sould Achilles Illium scale. When Thou a Man shalt be, to saile the Brine The Marriner shall cease; No Nauticke Pine Shall barter Wares. All Lands all Things shall beare. The Glebe Then tooth full Harrowes shall not teare, Nor shall the Vine abide the Pruning Hooke: The hardy Plow man shall his Bulls un-yoke. Wooll various colours shall not counterfeit: Their Fleeces Now with Red-mixt Purple sweet, Now dy with Saffron yellow shall the Rams; Bright Sandix shall invest the feeding Lambs. The Parcae' greeing by Fates fixt Decree, Said to their Spindles, Rowl such Times of Glee. Vaut ('twill be Time) into the Regall Throne, loves great Increase, th' Immortal's dearest Sonne, The World, lo, reels with Sin's stupendious Fraight! Earth, Seas, Heavens boundlesse Regiōrs shrink with waight!

See, in the Age-to-come how All reioyce! May I so long extend my life, and Voyce, Thy Deeds in Strains Heroïck to rehearse! Not Thracian Orpheus should out-shrill my Verse, Nor Linus: Though Calliope, his Mother, Should second Orpheus: His fire Phoebus, t'other. Arcadia Iudge, strove Pan with Me in Lays, Arcadia Iudge, He should resigne the Bays. 'Gin, Little Boy, to know thy Mother's smiles: Ten moneths have brought thy Mother tedious Toiles. Begin: His God (whose Parents have not laught) A Board; A Bed, his Goddesse ne'r vouchaft.

THE FIFTH ECLOGVE. OR, DAPHNIS.

THE ARGVMENT.

Their Daphnis Death in Swan-like Tunes deplor'd, The Swains consorting mutuall Gifts afford.

MENALCAS. MOPSƲS.

Me.

VVHy, Mopsus, doe We not (sith Both skild meet, Thou, to blow light Reeds, I, to caroll sweet) Amid these Hazel-inchas'd Elms reside?

Mo.

You are my Senior; You t'obey I'm tide, Beneath uncertaine shades while Zephyr blowes Whether We lie, or in some Cave repose; Lo how a Wild-Vine doth this Grot bespread, His dangling Clusters thinly scattered!

Me.

The sole Amynt shall combat in our Hils.

Mo.

What if, in Singing, Phoebus He out-shrils?

Me.

Sing, Mopsus, first, or Phyllis Loves to raise; Or scouling Codrus Death; Or Alcons Praise. Begin; Thy feeding Kidds shall Tit'rus tend.

Mo.

Yea (Late which in a Beeches Rine I pend) These Verses tun'd by course vnto my Reed, I'l try; Then bid Amyntas to succeed.

Me.

As Pliant Osiars, to Pale Olive Trees; Low Lavander, to Purple Rosaries; So much We iudge Amyntas stoops to Thee.

Mo.

Cease Boy, for We thy Grot are entred, see. The Nymphs condol'd their butcherd Daphnis deare, To them ye streames, and Hazels Record beare: When clipping her dead Son's Ruth-moving Corse, His Mother blam'd the Gods and stars dire Force. None, Daphnis, drove their full-stuft Near to drinke, Nor any Cattell sipt the River's Brinke, Nor in those dayes once toucht a Blad of grasse. That Punick Lyons did thy Death (Alas!) Bemoan, the Woods and savage Mountaines tell. He harnest First Hyrcanian Tygres fell: He First to Bacchus instituted Dances, And first with soft Leaves wreathed pliant Lances. As Vines do Trees, as Grapes doe Vines adorne, The Heards as Bulls, as fallow Lands the Corne: So Thou Thine crownest. When Thee Fates bereft, Our Fields even Pales, and Apollo left. Where We plump Barly sowd in Furrowes Late, Base Darnell, and Wild-Oates predominate: For the soft Vi'let, purple Daffadill, Our Meadowes prickly Furse, and Thistles fill. Ye Sheepheards strow the Ground with Leaves, & Flowers Your Fountaines seele with enterbroided Bowes, (For Daphnis so commands) and Him interr, With this Inscription on his Sepulcher,

I Daphnis in the Woods, Hence known to th'Air; A Fair Flocks Keeper, but my selfe more Fair.

Me.

Such is thy Verse to Vs, Poet Divine, As, tir'd, in Grasse to sleep, or to incline Our Head to quench (in scorching Summer's Heat) Our Thirst, at some sweet capering Rivulet. For Thou not onely with thy Reeds shrill Noise, But equallest thy Master with thy Voyce. O happy Lad, Thou shalt his Second bee! Yet We However w〈…〉〈…〉l re-chant to Thee. Our Verse, and to the Stars advance thy Peare We'l Daphnis stellify: He lov'd Vs deare.

Mo.

Can any Boon endear Vs more? He, young, Deserv'd to be enhanced with a song. And Stimichon earst prais'd to Vs those Laies.

Me.

Heaven's Portall deify'd Daphnis doth amaze, And views the clowds, and Stars beneath his Feet. Therefore the frolick Woods, and Countrey sweet, Pan, Swains, and Virgin▪Dryads now are rapt With Ioy; Nor doth the Wolfe (to prey so apt) Worry the Sheep, nor guilefull Toiles cisease The fearefull Stags: Good Daphnis loveth Peace. The Wood-crown'd Mountaines make the Welkin ring With Shouts of Glee; The Rocks, the Groves do sing, Menalcas, He's a God! Propitious bee To shine: foure Altars lo! Two recar'd to Thee, God Daphnis: Two up for Apollo set. To Thee two foaming Cups with Milke repleat, With Oyle as Many 〈…〉〈…〉alott each yeare: With liberall Bacchus as thy Wakes I chear, I'th'Hearth, if cold; If Hot, in shady Bowre. I'l Chian Wine (as sweet as Nectar) powre From turn'd up Bowls. While I performe this thing, Damaetas shall with Lyctian Aegon sing.

Alphe sibaeus shall trip nimble Rounds, Like to the frisking Satyrs. When our Grounds We expiate, and pay our solemn Vowes Vnto the Nymphs, Thou still shalt have these dues. Whilst the Fish loves the Streams, the Boar the Hill, Bees feed on Thyme; on Dew Grashoppers shrill: Thy Honour, Name, and Praise shall still remain. To Bacchus, and to Ceres as the Swain Makes yeerely Vowes, He shall to Thee: and Thou Shalt bind Him with a Curse to pay his Vow.

Mo.

How shall I guerdon Thee for such a Lay? For neither whilstling Auster's Gale (I say,) Nor b••llow-beaten Rocks delight me so;

Nor R••ls that perle through stony Vallyes low!

Me.

But We this slender Pipe will give Thee first. This [Corydon lov'd faire Alexis] verst; This taught [whose sheep, Damaetas? Melibies?]

Mo.

Take Thou this Sheeps. Crook (which Antigenes Oft beg'd in vain▪ and yet a Lovely Friend) Near for the equall knots, and brazen End.

THE SIXTH ECLOGVE, OR, SILENVS,

THE ARGVMENT.

Dread Varus Prais••. Silenus, Whittled, sings The Earths Beginning, & the Change of Things.

TO sport First in a Syracusian Strain, And Woods frequent, did my Thalia daigne.

When Kings, and horred Wars I loudly sung, Apollo pluckt my Eare, and checkt my Tongue. A Sheep-heard feed his sheepe must, Tityrus; Make slender Verses, not Robustious. Now I (for, Varus, enow will in Verse Desire thy Acts, and sad Wars to rehearse) Will tune on slender Reed a Rusticke Lay. Infranchiz'd is my Muse. If Any may, If Any These of meere Love read, thy Worth Our Tamarisks, each Grove shall warble forth, Nor e'r a Page more deare to Phoebus came, Than to whose Front prefixt is Varus Name. Sing, Muses. Cromis, and Mnasylus saw Silenus yawn, as in a Cave he lay, Veine-swoln with yersterday's too-liberall Bowls: His flowry Chaplet from his Temples rowls, His eare-worne massy Flagon hangs fast by. Invading Him (for oft the old Fox sly, With Hope of Verses Them deluded had) Of his soft Anadems Him Bonds they made. Aegle, as Mate, forth-with accrewes to These; Aegle, the Fairest of the Naiades: And Now (Silenus well enough it spys) His Front, and Temples with red Mulb'ries dyes. He, smiling at the Trick, said, Why d'ye ty Me? Wags, loose; It is enough You did espie Me. Lo your so-long wisht-Boon! You Verses take; She shall have some Gift else. And so bespake, Then Savages, and Fauns, at his Tunes brave Did dance Levoltoes, and Okes Summits wave, Not his Mount, Phoebus so; Th' Ismarian spire, Or Rhodope so Orpheus did admire. For, First, how Atoms met, and did give Birth, Conjoin'd in that vast Chaos, unto Earth,

To Fire, to Aire, to water: How from all These Firsts proceeded each Originall: And how the World's unstable Globe complide; How th' Earth it did consolidate, and divide Salt Nereus from the Fresh, and Things Formes bore, And Sol's bright Rayes amaz'd, unseene before: And how by Praecipies the showrs do fall From elevated Clouds: Th' Originall Of Woods He sung, and how through Mountaines strange The Animals, at First, did thinly range. Then Pyrrha's cast-stones; Saturn's Monarchy; Caucasean Fowl; Prometheus Theevery; And how the Saylers, fount-drencht Hyle unfound, Cry'd, that the Shore did Hylas, Hylas sound. And (happy, had there ne'r bin Heards) doth cheer Pasiphae with the Love of snow-white steer. Ah hap-lesse Maid! What madnesse Thee doth sease? The three infuriated Praetides Did with false Lowing fill the spacious Fields, But to such Coiture of Buls None yeilds, Though her Neck feard the Plow, and shee was wont To seeke Horns on her smooth un-horned Front. Ah hap-lesse Maid! Thou Now on Hils dost stray, He on the Hyacinth his white side doth lay, And halfe digested Grasse again doth chew Beneath a Holy-Oke, or doth purse Some Cow in the great Heard▪ Shut up your Lawns, Shut up, Dictaean Nymphs, Now: If by chance Some foot-tracks of the Bull (as 'bout We chase) Meet our retriving Eys: With verdant Grasse Or ta'n perhaps, or, the Heards following, Him to the Cretan stals some Kine doe bring. Then chants Her that th' Hesperides Fruit of Gold So much admir'd; Then Mossy Films infold

Th' Heliades, who Spine to Aldars tall, With such Dexterity he limns em all. How Gallus, when He at Permessus straid, One Muse into th' Aonian Hils convaid; And Chants how all the Chore of Phoebus Than Rose up, and did obeysance to the Man. How with Divining Verse (his Tresse impal'd With flowry Wreathes, and Parsly Bitter call'd) Sheep-keeping Linus Thus to Him did sing. Thee these Reeds (take 'em lo!) the Muses bring, Th' Ascraean Sheep-heards once, whereon he'd lay And sturdy Ash••s from their seasures draw. Now the Grynaean Wood's Origen chant With These, that Phoebus more of None may vant. Why shall I Nisus Daughter Seylla name How sung by Him? or t'other Scylla fame, That, with dire yelping Monsters hemb'd Below, Did tosse Vlisses Carvels to and fro: And in the tumid Main's incensed Billows, With her fierce Sea-Dogs worried all his Fellowes. Or, how He changed Tereus Limbs exprest? Or for H••m Philomela's Gifts, and Feasts? How, He, Woods haunting, a Bird's Forme assumes, But flies about his House First rais'd with Plumes? All which Eurotas (Phoebus turning earst) Did hear, and bad his Laurels learne, Rehearst. He sings, with Repercussion of the Sound The vallies ring, and ecchoing do rebound: Till in the Foulds the counted Sheep t'inshrine (Maugre Olympus) Vesper did injoine.

THE SEVENTH ECLOGVE. or, MELIBOEVS.

THE ARGVMENT.

Sweet Corydon, out-shrilling Thyrsis well, By Melibaeus Verdict beares the Bell.

MELIBOEVS. CORYDON. THYRSIS.

Me.

BEneath a Whistling Holm-Tree Daphnis sate; And Corydon, and Thyrsis did of late Drive both their Foocks together into One: Thyrsis, his Seepe; milke-stuft Goats, Corydon. Both striplings; Both You'd thinke of Arcady; Both matcht to sing, and ready to Reply. While shrouding Myrtles from bleake Winds I staid, The Flock-conducting He-goat Hence had straid: And I see Daphnis: When Me once he spyes, Come hither Melibaeus quick, He cryes: Safe is thy Goat, and Kids, ne'r vex for Those, And, if Thou canst stay, in the Shade repose. Thy Bullocks, of their own accord, to drinke Will Hither come; Here the greene grassy Brinke Of Gamesome Mince, with quiv'ring Reeds is Crownd, And from the sacred Oke the Swarmes resound. What should I do? Alcippe, Phyllis I Had not, at Home my Weaned Lambs to try; And the Swaines did contend in ve'ment sort; Yet to my worke preferd I their Disport. Then Both strove in Alternate Verses terse;

The Muses crav'd an Amebaean Verse; These Corydon; Those Thyrsis 'gan rehearse.

Co.

Our loy, Lebethrian Nymphs, Me such a Vaine As Codrus (Phoebus Second) either daign, Or if All cannot make a Verse Diuine, Hang shall my shrill Pipe on this Sacred Pine.

Th.

Arcadian Swaines (that Codrus Guts with Spleen May breake) your Poet deck with Ivy green: Or if He Praise extort, his Fore-head wreath With Lady-Gloves, 'gainst Cordrus blasting Breath.

Co.

This Boar's Head Mycon to Thee doth import; These Antliers, Delia, of a long-liv'd Hart; But grant this Boon, in polisht Marble Now, Calve-bound with Purple Buskins, stand fhalt Thou.

Th

A Bowl of Milke, these cakes (expect no more,) Priapus, Keeper of our Hort-yard poore. Now doth a Marble Statue Thee infold; But if our Flocks increase, be All of Gold.

Co.

O Galataea, sweeter than the Thyme! More white than Swans; than Ivy pale more prime, When our Buls fed shall to the stals go home, (For Corydon if ought Thou carest) come.

Th.

More Bitter than Sardinian Hearbs to Thee, Than Broome, or Sea-Weeds Baser let Me be, If longer than a yeere is not this day. For shame, ye full-fed Steers, away, away.

Co.

Cool mossy Fountaines, Sleep-alluring Grasse, Greene Arbuts, that with thin shades You imbrace, The Cattell from the Sun-sted fence about; Now on the Tendrell the Buds burgeon out.

Th.

A Hearth, fat Tapers, still much Fire is Here, And black smoake-collied Posts: as much We care For Boreas, as Wolves for sheeps numerous Ranks, Or Rain-incensed Torrents for their Banks.

Co.

Our Iunipers, our Chest-nuts rough are full, Thou Apples under each Tree strow'd maist cull: All now laugh; Let Alexis absent be From these Hils, you should Rivers stream lesse see.

Th.

Fieldes rive, the sultery Air the Herbage Kils; Liber the Vine-Leaves envies to the Hils: Woods Phillis Comming shall with Verdure crown, And vegetating love with Showrs bring downe.

Co.

The Poplar, Herc'les; Bacchus loves the Vine; The Laurel, Phoebus; Myrtle, Venus fine; The Hazels Phyllis loves: which while she doo, Yeeld shall the Myrtle, Phoebus Laurel too.

Th.

The Wild-Ash, th' Woods; The Pine the Hort-yards crowns; The Poplar Rivers; The tall Fyrre the downs. Faire Lycidas, but ofter visit Mee, Wild-ash, and Garden-pine shall stoop to Thee.

Me.

This I record; Foil'd Thyrsis did put on In vaine: since that Time, for Vs, Corydon.

THE EIGHTH ECLOGVE. OR, PHARMACEVTRIA.

THE ARGVMENT.

False fickle Nisa, Damon infamizes: Alphesibie for Daphnis, Spels devizes.

DAMON. ALPHESIBOEVS.

VVE'l Damon's, and Alphesiboeus Laies; With whose sweet Chants a Heifer stood at gaze, And Rivers, ravisht, did surcease to glide; And with whose Verses were Lynxes stupifide:

We'l Damons, and Alphesibaeus Laies Relate. Assist Thou, if thou passest 'ore Now great Timovus, or th' Illyrian shore. Lo! that I may eternize with my Rimes Thy Martiall Feats, will ever be those Times? That thy Verse may by Me be o'r the World (Sole suiting Sophoclean Buskin) hurld? From Thee my Rise; To Thee my end I'l make; Verses at thy Command composed take; And suffer this my Wreath of lvie small, Amongst thy conqu'ring Bays, thy Brows t' impale. Now scarce contracted were Nights Curtains sable, (The Dew to th' Cattell Then most acceptable) Thus Damon, leaning on an Olive Spray.

Da.

Rise, Lucifer, and usher in the day; Whilst I, inveigled with her couz'ning Love, Of Nisa's Lure complaine, and pitty moove: And Now accoast the Gods, in fine, apall'd; Though I Them oft to Record bootlesse call'd. Begin with Me, my Pipe, Maenalian Layes. Shrill Woods hath Maenalus, and Vocall Pines; To Shep-heards Love complaining songs inclines He his Eares still; And Pan, who Reeds, of yore, Taught Tunes to vary, rude compos'd before. Begin with Me, my Pipe, Maenalian Layes. Ill-favour'd Mopsus doth Faire Nisa wed. What is there, that We Lovers may not dread? The Gryphins, Henceforth, shall with Horses link; And Stags with Stag-infesting Dogs shall drink; New Tapers cut, for Thou a Wife dost wed; Nuts, Mopsus, strow, from Oeta Hesper's fled. Begin with Me, my Pipe, Maenalian Layes. To Worthy Husband ioin'd! while scorning All My Pipe Thou slight'st, my bounding Goats as small;

My rough-hair'd Ey-brow, and my Dangling Beard; And ween'st no God doth mortall Things regard. Begin with Me, My Pipe, Maenalian Layes. A Goat-heard, I Thee, with the Mother, view'd, When Little, gath'ring Aples all be-dew'd, Within our Hegde fenc'd Grounds; Then entred had The second from th' eleventh year Me t'invade. Then under-boughes I could reach o'r my Head: No sooner seen, How undone! How mislead! Begin with Me, my Pipe, Maenalian Layes. Now what the Godling Cupid is, I see; Or craggy Ismarus, or Rhodope, Or Farthest Garamants that Rock-born Brood Produc't, not of our Progeny or Bloud. Begin with Me, my Pipe, Maenalian Layes. Love taught a Mother to distain, for Ire, In her Son's Gore her Hands; a Mother dire! A Fiercer Mother, or a Fiercer ••ad? The Mother Cruell, and the Boy was Bad. Begin with Me, my Pipe, Maenalian Layes. Now let the Wolfe fly from the Sheep's Pursuit: Now let hard Okes be charg'd with Golden Fruit: Let th' Aldar flourish with the Daffadill: Let Tamarisks fat Amber Now distill: Owles cope with Swans: Tit'rus put Orpheus on: Orpheus, in Woods; 'mongst Delphins, Arion. Begin with Me, my Pipe, Maenalian Layes. Let All now turne to Sea. Adieu, ye Woods. By headlong Praecipies, into the Floods, I'l from this towring Mountain's summit fall: This Gift, as I expire, take last of all. Leave off, Pipe, Now leave off Maenalian Layes. Thus He. Alphesibaeus Answer too, Ye Muses chant: All cannot all Things doo.

Al.

Maid, bring Me out some Water quickly quick, Then with soft Anadems, and Ribbands thicke Surround these Altars, and suffumigate Male frankincense, and oil-smear'd Vervain fat; T' infuriate with Magicks dire Alarms Love-flying Daphnis▪ Nought Here wants, but Charmes. My Charmes fetch from the City Daphnis Home. Charmes make bright Cynthia from her Orbe decline. Th' Incantresse Circe did transforme to Swine Vlysses Mates by Charmes: The balefull Snake Charms in the Meads to breake asunder make. My Charmes fetch from the City Daphnis Home. I with this triple colour'd three-fold Thred Arround Thee, and thy Feature poutraicted Three times about these sacred Altars hale; For God loves the odde Number best of all. My Charmes fetch from the City Daphnis Home. In three Knots knit three Thrums of Triple dy; Quick, Amarillis; say, Love-Bonds I ty. My Charms fetch from the City Daphnis Home. As this Clay Hard, and this Waxe Soft doth prove With the same Fire: so Daphnis with our Love. Sprinkle the Cake, burne Bay smear'd with Bitume, He frys Me; I on Him this Bay consume. My Charmes fetch from the City Daphnis Home. Let Daphnis be with such a Love possest, As is a Heifer, when (tir'd with the Quest Of lust-full steer through Groves, and devious Woods) She, Loue-consum'd, reposeth on the Floud's Green Marge, nor late at Night doth thence depart; Such Him surprize: Nor let me cure impart. My Charmes fetch from the City Daphnis Home. As his Love-Pawns, He (Now of trust bereft) These cast impoverisht Garments whilom left,

Which, Earth, I sacre in the Porch to Thee. These Daphnis must again restore to Mee. My Charmes fetch from the City Daphnis Home. These Hearbs, and Pontick simples earst bestow On Me did Moeris: store in Pontus grow. Vnder a Wolvish Forme by These He'd hide, And skulking in the vncouth Woods abide. Transplant Crops waving with Mustacho'd Eares, And raise up Ghosts from their deep Sepuchers. My Charmes fetch from the City Daphnis Home. Out, Amaryllis, forth-with Ashes bring, And Them with Head retrait i'th' River fling. I will encounter Daphnis with these. Armes: That reaks not for the Gods, nor Philter-charms. My Charmes fetch from the City Daphnis Home. The Altars, lo! with quiv'ring Flames have caught; (Be it Auspicious!) whilst that Fire's unbrought! (I know not what 'tis) and the fierce Curre bawls. Is't true? or Phantick are all Cupid's Thrals. Leave off, Charmes, Daphnis from the City coms.

THE NINTH ECLOGVE. OR, MOERIS.

THE ARGVMENT.

Two Rurals Here bewaile, (Disaster strange ••) In balefull Notes, Menalcas seased Grange.

LYCIDAS. MOERIS.

Ly.

VVHither, O Moeris? this Way, to the City?

Moe.

We live, O Lycidas, (alas! for pitty!) To heare a Stranger, of our Lands possest, (Which We poor Wretches ever feared least) Say, These are mine; Avant ye Ancient Pesants. Now we cashier'd, and sad, (O chance!) for presents

To Him these Kidlings (may They choak him) send.

Ly.

Certes I heard, where the Hil's Verge doth bend Downe with feasable descent his Bases, To crankling Mincius, that the Meads inchases, And the Old Beeches Now-broke Summit tall, That your Menalcas by his Verse kept all.

Moe.

You heard; 'Twas bruited so; But our Verse proves 'Mongst Warrs as powerfull, as Chaonian Doves, Iove's Bird assailing. Which Before if Those Vnwonted Garboils quickly to compose, Did not th' Auspicious Rooke Me warning give, Nor should thy Moeris, nor Menalcas live.

Ly.

So desperately bent can Any bee? Ah! were thy solace-giving Layes with Thee Almost, Menalcas ravisht? who should sing The Nymphs? or th' Earth imbellisht in the Spring With Flora's Pride? or drilling Fountaines pure, O'r-shadowed with Arbours Coverture? Or (going to our Minion Amaryll) The Verses Late I stole from Thee by skill? Tit'rus, while I returne (short is the Way) My she-goats feed; fed, Them to drinke convay, And as Thou driv'st Them to the Rivers fine, The He-Goat (butting with his Horn) decline.

Moe.

Yea these he sung to Varus yet unfil'd, Thy Name (We not of Mantua dispoil'd. Poore Mantua, to Cremona, ah! too near!) Vp to the twinkling starres the Swans shall beare.

Ly.

So may thy swarmes Cyrnaean Yews decline! So may with Milke thy Cythisse-brouzing Kine Their Vdders stuffe! Begin (if ought Thou hast) 'Mongst the Poetick Throng even I am plac't; Me the Pierian sisters did install, And Me Swaines (unbeleev'd) a Poet call:

I mate not Varus yet, nor Cinna's strains, But gagle like a Goose 'mongst Vocall swains.

Moe.

I do't, and silent, with my selfe I scan; 'Tis a brave strain, if call't to mind I can. Come, Galataea; in rough Neptune's Wave What Pleasure is't? Here snaking Rillets lave Flowr-motly'd Banks; Here is a Purple spring; A sallow Poplar a Grot shadowing; Here cool Vine-Arbours shroud Vs from the heate. Come: 'gainst the Beach let surly Billows beat.

Ly.

Nay those I heard Thee singing one cleer Night: The Tune I know, could I the words hit right,

Moe

Why dost Thou, Daphnis, Ancient starres survay? Lo, Dionaean Caesar's doth display His clinquant Head, Corn-ears with Grain t'indue, And hil-bred Grapes with their ripe purple Hue! Imp Pear-Trees, Daphnis, for thy Nephews shall Gather the Peares. Time hurrieth with It All; Yea my frail Mem'ry. I thinke how (a Boy) I spent in singing many a Summers day. Those songs are now in deepe Oblivion drownd. Impeacht is Moeris hoarce obstructed sound. The Wolves saw Moeris First. At his Retreat, Oft shall Menalcas Them to Thee repeat.

Ly.

Pretending scuses, Thou prolong'st our Loves; And Now no sea with iustling Surges moves; The full-mouth'd murmuring Gusts are silent, see! And halfe-way of our Iourney come are Wee: For you' Bianor's Tomb his raised Top Begins to shew. Here, where the Rurals lop Their Trees luxurious Boughs, let's caroll: Here Lay down thy Kids: Or if perchance We feare Lest the Night gather Rain Before, We may Sing as We goe; Lesse hurt Vs will the Way.

That We may do 't, Thee of this Load I'l ease.

Moe.

More of Me, Boy, Now to desire surcease: Let's Rather to an end our Businesse bring; When He him-selfe shall come We'l better sing.

THE TENTH ECLOGVE. OR, GALLVS.

THE ARGVMENT.

Scorcht with Idalian Flames; fond Gallus is Enamour'd on the Strumpet Cytheris.

THis last Peece grant Me, O kind Arethuse; Some Verses to my Gallus must Thou, Muse, (But such as let Lycoris read) rehearse; (Who unto Gallus would deny a Verse?) So under Sicil's Seas when thy Flood raves, May not Salt Doris mixe her briny waves! Cupid-thrild Gallus, Loves begin to rouz, Whilst that the flat-nos'd Goats the Tendrels brouz. Not to deafe Hearers We our Airs afford, The Ecco-ringing Woods our Words re-word. What Groves imbowr'd You, Virgin-Naiades, While Gallus perisht by such Loves as these? For neither towring Pindus caus'd your stay, Nor Aganippe in Aonia. Nor yet Parnassus spire. With one accord The Tamariks, the Laurels Him deplord: Beneath a lovely Rocke reposing, thus Condold Lycaeus, Pine-clad Maenalus. The sheepe surround Him priz'd in our Esteem, Nor Thou Them to be vainely slighted deem, O divine Poet: Ev'n Adonis faire His sheepe did pasture at the Rills with Care.

The Sheep-heard tardy Cow-heards thither drew; From gathering Winter Acorns did accrew Menalcas wet; And Then demand They All This fascinating Love's Originall. Why art thou Frantick, Gallus, cryes Apollo: For now thy Darling doth Another follow Through the Snow-shirted Alpes, and horrid Camps. Next, pranckt with Flowry Wreathes, Sylvanus ramps, And came with flowring Feruls in his hand, And great unsully'd Lillys. Ruddy Pan, The God that swayes Arcadia Then appear'd, With Dane-wort Berries, and Vermillion smeard, And (quoth He) will there be no Meane, nor measure? Such Griefes as these to slight Love takes a Pleasure. Nor Teares dire Love; Nor Streames that gently float Grasse satiate; Cythisse, Bees; Nor leaves, the Goat. Yet thus He said, Arcadians, ye this Thing (To sing sole skild) shall in your Mountains sing, What soft Repose shall Then my Bones enjoy, If your Pipe shall my Loves Hereafter play? And would to God I had bin of your Crew To tend your Flock, or Vintager to You▪ Were Phyllis, or Amyntas of Renown My Paramour (what though Amynt be Brown▪ Blacke is the Hyacinth, and Violet) Beneath a Willow-married Vine We'd sit: Me Phyllis Chaplets (while Amynt did sing) Should gather. Here's a coole, and pleasant Spring, Here soft enameld Meadowes, Here a Grove, Here my whole Life, I'de spend with Thee, my Love. Now moody Cupid, 'mongst hard Warres Alarms, And hostile Troopes detaines Me, hemb'd with Armes, Thou, hard Lycoris, from the Country farre (May I, to give no credence to it, care)

Without Me through the Alpes, and Rhine dost trace. Let no cold hurt Thee, ah no keene yee race Thy tender Feet! I'l go, those Layes that earst Compos'd were in Chalcidick Numbers First, I'l tune on the Sicilian shep-heards Reed. For, rather in the Woods I have decreed My Mansion 'mong the wild Beasts dens to have, And in Trees tender Barks my Loves ingrave: They shall increase: You, my Loves shall increase. 'Bout Nymph-frequented Maenalus I'l chase, Or Boars intoil. Parthenian Lawns will I Begird (cold scorching) with the loud-mouth'd Cry. Through Clifts, and ecchoing Woods ev'n Now to go I seeme: Cydonian Flights from Parthian Bow I'l twang: As though This may my Fury cure, Or Cupid may to sympathize inure. But now again not Hamadryades, Nor Verses Themselves Vs impatient please, Woods yeeld again; Our Toils Him cannot change. Though We through Thracian snow i'th winter range, Though Then We drench our Lips in Hebrus Floud: Though when the Barke rives on the Elm We shou'd Feed th' Aethiop's sheepe, under the Crab adust. Love All subdues, and yeeld to Love We must. This that your Poet sung it shall suffice, Ye Muses, whilst He sitting Wickers ties. To Gallus make these Layes, Pierides, Most deare: to Gallus, whose love doth encrease To Me each houre as much, as in the Spring The Aldar sprours. Let's go, to such as sing The shade's offensive, the Iuniper's shade: And shades are hurtfull, when they Fruits invade. Full-fed, my browzing Goats, go home, goe home, For Night-reducing Hesper Now is come.

FINIS.