VIRGIL'S Georgics Englished. by Tho: May Esq  
Lo: printed for Tho. Walkley in Britain's Burse R●ughan fecit 1628.   

To my truly judicious Friend, Christopher Gardiner of Haleng, Esquire.  
I Cannot make a fitter choice of any Name to stand prefixed before this Work, than such a friends, who not only understands but love's endeavours of this nature; one as far from pride as ignorance; and such a Reader, as I could wish all, but cannot hope to find many. It is a Translation of such a Poet as in our age is no less admired, than he was once honoured in his Roman world. To speak how learned the Poem is, how full of heights not improperly raised out of a mean subject, were needless to you, who so well understand the original of it, and the pattern of this original, the Poem of Hesiod. If there were any thing in my pains, which might either offend an honest ear, or justly suffer a great condemnation from a learned Censurer, I should be fearful to commend it to you, whose Religion, Life, and Learning, are so well known unto me. This Work may inform some, delight others, it can hurt none; it is no new thing, (being a Translation) but an old Work of such a Poet, who in the Opinion of his own times was an honest man, as well as an able writer. Whose Poem if I have truly rendered, I think it better than publishing mine own fancies to the World, especially in an Age so much cloyed with cobweb Inventions, and unprofitoble Poems. How much I have failed in my undertaking, (as missing the sense of Virgil, or not expressing of him highly and plainly enough) they only are able judges who can confer it; and such are you to whose judgement I leave it, and rest  
Your true Friend THOMAS MAY.   

GEORGICON. The first BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
TIllage, in all her several parts, is shown,  
Her favouring gods, her first invention,  
Her various seasons, the celestial signs;  
And how the Ploughman's providence divines  
Of future weather: what presages be  
From Beasts and Birds by wise antiquity  
Drawn into rules insallible; from whence  
The Ploughman takes despair, or confidence.  
It hat tools th' industrious husband's works a● veil▪  
From whence our Poet sadly doth bewail  
That crooked Sickles turned to Swords, so late  
Had drunk the blood of Rome's divided State▪  
And in few years with her unnatural wounds  
Had twice manured Aemathiae● fatal grounds.  
What makes rich crops; what season most inclines  
To ploughing th'earth, & marrying elms with vines?  
What care of Neat, or Sheep is to be h●d;  
Of frugal Bees what trials may be made  
I sing, Mecoena●, here. You lights most clear,  
Whose heavenly course directs the sliding year▪  
Bacchus, and fostering Ceres, if first you  
Did for Chaonian Mast rich Corn bestow,  
And tempered waters with invented wine:  
You tillage-favouring gods; ye Fauns divine,  
And virgin Dryades be present now:  
I sing your bounties: and, great Neptune, thou,  
Whose tridents stroke did first from th'earth produce  
A warlike horse: thou that the woods dost use,  
Whose full three hundred snowwhite Bullocks run  
Grazing rich Caeas pasture fields upon,  
Sheep-ke●ping Pan, with favour present be  
(If thy M●●nalian flocks be dear to thee)  
Leaving Lycaeus, and fair Arcady:  
Minerva foundress of the Olive tree:  
Thou youth inventor of the crooked plough:  
And thou that mak'st the tender Cypress grow  
Up from the root, Silvanus: all that love  
Tillage, both gods, and goddesses above,  
That growing plants can foster without seed,  
And them from heaven with rain sufficing feed:  
And thou, great Caesar, whom 'tis yet not plain  
What rank of gods shall one day entertain;  
Whether the World thy deity shall fear,  
As Lord of fruits, and seasons of the year,  
Of lands and towns (with Venus' myrtle tree  
Crowning thy head) or thou the god wilt be  
Of the vast Sea, and Thules farthest shore,  
And thee alone the Sailors shall adore,  
As Thetis son-in-law with all her Seas  
Given for a Dower; or else that thou wilt please  
To add one sign to the slow months, and be  
Betwixt the balance, and Erig●ne;  
The fiery Scorpion will contract his space,  
And leave for thee in heaven the greater place.  
What ere thou'lt be (for hell despairs to gain  
Thee for her King: nor thirst thou so for reign,  
Though Greece so much th' Elysian fields admire,  
And sought Proserpin● would not retire  
Thence with her mother) view with gracious eyes,  
And prosper this my venturous enterprise.  
Pity the ploughmen's errors, and mine too,  
And use thyself to be invoked now.  
When first the spring dissolves the mountain snow  
When th'earth grows soft again, & west winds blow,  
Then let your Oxen toil in furrows deep,  
Let use from rusting your bright plowshares keep.  
Those crops, which twice have felt the sun, & twice  
The cold; will ploughmen's greediest wish suffice.  
Harvests from thence the crowded barns will fill.  
But least the fields we ignorantly till,  
To know how different lands and climates are,  
All winds and seasons, let it be our care;  
What every Region can, or cannot bear;  
Here corn thrives best: vines best do prosper there;  
Some Lands are best for fruit, for pasture some;  
From Tmolus see how fragrant saffrons come:  
Amongst the Sabaeans frankincense doth grow;  
Iron the naked Chalybes bestow:  
India sends ivory, Pontus' beavers stone,  
Epire swift horse, that races oft have won▪  
These several virtues on each land and climb,  
Nature bestowed even from the point of time,  
When stones in th' emptied world Deu●alion threw,  
Fron whence th' hard-hearted race of mankind grew.  
Therefore when first the year begins, do thou  
Thy richest grounds most deep and strongly plow,  
That Summer's piercing Sun may ripen more,  
And well digest the fallow gle●e; but poor,  
And barren grounds about October plow  
Not deep; in one, lest weeds, that rankly grow,  
Spoil the rich crop: in other, lest the dry  
And sandy grounds quite without moisture lie.  
And let thy ●ield each other year remain  
Fallow, and eared, to gather heart again.  
Or else thy corn thou there mayst safely sow  
Where in full cod's last year rich pease did grow,  
Or else where tares, or lupins last were sown,  
Lupins that sadness cause; (for 'tis well known  
That oats, hemp, flax, and poppy causing sleep  
Do burn the soil) but best it is to keep  
The ground one year at rest; forget not than  
With richest dung to hearten it again,  
Or with unsifted ashes; so 'tis plain  
That changing seeds gives rest unto a field;  
And 'tis no loss to let it lie untilled.  
Fires oft are good on barren earshes made  
With crackling flames to burn the stubble blade.  
Whether the earth some hidden strength do gain  
From thence, or wholesome nourishment obtain:  
Or that those fires digest, or purge, or dry  
All poisonous humours that in th' earth did lie:  
Or else that heat new pores, and caverns opes,  
Through which good juice comes to the following crops▪  
Or else it knits the earth's too open veins,  
And makes them more compact, lest falling reins  
Soak them too far, lest Boreas piercing cold,  
Or Phoebus' heat should dry the parched mould.  
And wholesome husbandry 'twas ever found  
Often to break and harrow barren ground,  
And well rewarded still at Ceres' hand.  
Nor is 't unwholesome to subdue the Land  
By often exercise: and where before  
You broke the earth, again to plow it o'er  
Cross to the former. Let the ploughmen's prayer  
Be for moist sol●●ices, and winters fair.  
For winter's dust doth cheer the land, and draw  
So great an harvest, that rich Maesia  
For all her skill obtains not greater store,  
Nor Ida's hil● do boast their plenty more.  
What shall I say to him that sows his Land  
Immediately, scattering the barren Sand?  
Then brings in watering streams that will suffice?  
And when in scorched fields all Herbage dies:  
Lo, he from higher bending hillocks draws  
In furrows waters' down, which gliding cause  
Among the pebble stones a murmuring sound,  
And with their streams refresh the thirsty ground▪  
Or him, that least rank ears should overlade,  
And lodge the stem, he in the tender blade,  
Eats off the rankness? Or that drains his ground  
With thirsty sand, when moisture doth abound?  
When in the Spring, or Autumn specially  
(Unconstant seasons) rivers swelled too high  
Have filled the drenched fields with slime, and yet  
The draining trenches with warm moisture sweat.  
Nor are these things (though they men's labours be  
And beasts) not subject to the injury  
Of ●●ose, Strymonian Cranes, the shade of Trees,  
And growing bitter-rooted Suckoryes.  
For jove himself, loath that our lives should prove  
Too easy, first caused men the ground to move,  
Filled mortal hearts with cares, nor suffered he  
The world to fall into a Lethargy.  
Before Ioues reign no Ploughmen tilled the ground▪  
Nor was it lawful than their Lands to bond:  
They lived in common all: and every thing  
Did without labour from earth's bosom spring.  
jove Venom first infused in Serpents fell,  
Taught Wolves to prey, and stormy Seas to swell:  
Robbed leaves of honey, and hid fire from men,  
And banished wine, which run in rivers then,  
That th' arts by need might so in time be found;  
Corn might be sought by tilling of the ground,  
And hidden fire from flints hard veins be drawn.  
Then Aldern boats first ploughed the Ocean:  
The Sailors numbered then, and named each star  
The Pleiads, Hyads, and the Northern car.  
Deceiving birdlime than they learned to make:  
And beasts by hunting, or by toils to take:  
Dragnets were made to fish within the deep:  
And casting nets did rivers bottoms sweep.  
Then iron first, and saws were understood;  
For men before with wedges clef● their wood.  
Then th' arts were found; for all things conquered be  
By restless toil, and hard necessity.  
First yellow Ceres taught the world to plow  
When woods no longer could afford enough  
Wild crabs and acorns, and Dodona lent  
Her mast no more: then miseries were sent  
To vex the art of tillage: blast killed  
The stalks, and fruitless thistles in the field  
Prevailing, spoiled the corn: rough weeds did grow,  
Of burrs and brambles troubling it, and now  
Within the fields among the harvest grain  
Corne-v●xing darnel, and wild oats did reign.  
That now unless thou exercise the soil,  
Fright birds away, and with continual toil  
Lop off the shadowing boughs, and pray for rain  
Devoutly still, thou mayst behold in vain  
Thy neighbour's heap of corn with envious eyes  
Labouring with mast thy hunger to suffice.  
The hardy ploughmen's tools must now be shown,  
Without which corn can nor be reaped nor sown.  
The flail, fled, coulter, share, and crooked plough,  
The iron harrow, Ceres' wagons slow,  
Celeus poor wicker householdstuff, and than  
Harrows of wood, with Bacchus' mystic Van.  
All these before hand must be got by thee  
If fame thou seek in noble husbandry.  
Fetch from the woods a fitting elm, and bow  
The same with skill, till of a crooked plough  
It take the form; to that fasten a beam  
Eight foot in length, two ears; not far from them  
The wood that holds the share; but tile-tree take,  
Or lofty beech the Oxens yokes to make,  
And tails of ploughs, which all the course do guide,  
When smoke the goodness of the wood hath tried▪  
Many of the ancients rules I here could show  
Unless thou scorn to study Arts so low;  
Let thy Barns floor be digged, and soddered than  
With toughest Clay, and then rolled hard again,  
Lest it should turn to dust, or grass should grow.  
Many mishaps may fall; the mouse below  
Oft makes her house, and garner under ground,  
And there as oft the blinde-borne moles are found:  
There Toads, and many earth-bred Monsters lie:  
There little Weevills heaps of corn destroy,  
And frugal Ants, that toil for times to come.  
Consider thou, when Nut-trees fully bloom,  
And with their fragrant blossoms bend the tree,  
As those nuts thrive, so will thy harvests be,  
And corn in great abundance gathered.  
But if those trees in broad leaves only spread,  
Then ears, though great, but little grain will yield.  
Some I have seen, before they sow their field,  
Their seeds with lees of oil, and nitre still  
To macerate, which makes full grains, to fill  
The flattering husks; or else their seeds to boil.  
Seeds I have seen chosen, and picked with toil,  
Yet grow ill corn, unless the man for fear  
Cull with his hand the greatest every year.  
So all things of themselves degenerate,  
And change to worse even by the law of Fate;  
No otherwise than when a man doth row  
Against a violent stream with much ado,  
If ere he chance from rowing to refrain,  
His Boat is hurried down the stream again.  
Ploughmen had need each star as well to know  
The Kids, the Dragon, and Arcturus too  
As Sailors need, who in rough storms are wont  
To pass the Oyster-breeding Hellespont.  
When Libra first divides the world, 'twixt light  
And darkness, equalling the day and night,  
Then exercise your teams, and barley sow  
Till winter to extremity do grow.  
While yet 'tis dry thy hemp, and poppy sow  
Before the Winter too tempestuous grow.  
Sow beans i'th'Spring, clave grass in rotten soil,  
And Willet, that requires a yearly toil,  
When with his golden horns bright Taurus opes  
The year, & downward the cross Dog-star stoops.  
But if thou plow to sow more solid grain  
A wheat or barley harvest to obtain,  
First let the morning Pleiades be set,  
And Ariadne's shining coronet,  
Ere thou commit thy seed to ground, and there  
Dare trust the hope of all the following year.  
Some that before the fall o'th' Pleyades  
Began to sow, deceived in th' increase  
Have reaped wild oats for wheat. But if that thou  
Disdain not Fesels, or poor Vech to sow,  
Or care to make Egyptian lentils thrive,  
Falling Boötes then to thee will give  
Signs not obscure. Begin to sow, and till  
The midst of winter hold on sowing still.  
And therefore through twelve signs bright Phoebus guides  
The world, and th' earth in several climes divides.  
Five zones divide the heavens, the torrid one  
Still red, still heated by the burning sun.  
On either side are two extremely cold,  
Which ice, and frosts, and storms perpetual hold:  
'twixt that and these, to comfort man's estate,  
The gods have placed two zones more temperate  
'twixt both these two, a line i'th' midst is put,  
Which by the Zodiac is obliquoly cut.  
And as the world is elevated to  
The Scythian North, it does declining go  
Down to the Libyan South. The North's still high  
To us, the South under our feet doth lie,  
Seen by the ghosts, and baleful Styx below.  
The mighty dragon there winds to and fro,  
And like a crooked river doth pass through  
And compass round the great and lesser Bear,  
Which to be dipped in the Ocean fear.  
There (as they say) an ever silent night  
Remains, and darkness never pierced by light,  
Or else the morn returns to them, when gone  
From us, and brings them day; when th'Eastern su●  
Doth in the morn salute our haemisphere,  
Dark night compels them to light candle's ther●.  
Hence we in doubtful skies may storms foresee,  
When a fit harvest or seed time will be;  
Or when to plow th' uncertain ●eas 'tis fit  
With cares, or when to rig an armed fleet,  
And when pine trees are seasonably felled.  
Nor can this speculation vain be held,  
How th'heavenly signs do rise and fall, and here  
Into four seasons do divide the year.  
When storms within doors keep the husbandman  
They give him leisure to make ready than  
What they would hasten in fair weather more,  
To grind their plowshares dulled edge, to bor●  
And hollow tree● for boats; the husbandmen  
Then measure corn, and mark their cattle then.  
Some horned forks prepare, some sharpen stakes,  
Bonds for the limber vines another makes:  
Panyers sometimes of Rubean twigs they make,  
Sometimes they grind their corn, sometimes they bake:  
For all divine and humane Laws allow  
On greatest holidays some works to do,  
To dig a dike, or fence about the corn;  
To catch the harmful birds, brambles to burn:  
To wash the bleating flocks in rivers clear  
By no Religion was forbidden ere.  
Some drive their Asses to the market town  
With oil and apples, who return anon  
Laden with pitch and grinding stones again.  
The Moon did not all days alike ordain  
Happy for every work. The fifth Moon fly,  
Then hell and furies first began to be.  
Then did the earth an impious birth produce  
Typheous, Caeus, and japetus,  
That durst conspire the towers of heaven to raze.  
Thrice they endeavoured with strong hand to place  
The mountain Ossa on high Pelion,  
On that Olympus: thrice great jove threw down  
Their work with thunder. But the fourteenth day  
Is best to plant your vineyards, and assay  
Your new-tamed Oxen. Then best spinning thrives;  
The ninth is safe to travel, free from thieves.  
Some works by night are happiest brought to pass,  
Or when the morning star bedeawes the grass.  
By night your stubble and dry Meadows mow,  
For night fair moisture doth on them bestow.  
Some sit up late at winter-fires, and fit  
Their sharp edged tools; the while their wives do sit  
Beside them carding Wool, and there make light  
With songs the tedious labour of the night.  
Or boil new wine from crudities, and skim  
The bubbling froth off from the Caldrons brim.  
But reap thy corn in the day's heat and drought,  
For dry-reaped corn will thresh more cleanly out.  
In Summer naked plough thy ground, and sow:  
Cold Winter rest on plowmen doth bestow.  
Then they enjoy what they before did gain,  
And with glad feasts each other entertain.  
The genial Winter to free joy invites  
From care. Such are the Mariners delights,  
When laden ships long absent from their home  
Now decked with garlands to the haven come.  
Besides the Winter is a season fit  
To gather ackorns, and ripe berries get  
Of bays, of olive trees, and myrtles red.  
To catch wild crane's in sprindges, and to spread  
Toils for red Deer; the long-eared Hare to start,  
And fallow Deer with a looped Spanish dart  
Well thrown to kill, when with deep snow the ground  
Is hid, and rivers with strong ice are bound.  
The storms of Autumn why should I relate?  
When days grow shorter, and more moderate  
The heat? what care good husbands entertain?  
Or when the showery spring doth promise rain?  
When all the fields with green eared corn are proud  
And tender blades the swelling grain do shroud?  
●oft have seen, when corn was ripe to mow,  
And now in dry, and brittle straw did grow,  
Winds from all quarters oppositely blow.  
By whose dire force the full-eared blades were torn  
Up by the roots, and into th' air were born:  
No otherwise than when black whirl winds rise,  
And toss dry straw and stubble to the skies.  
Oft fall huge gusts of water from the sky.  
And all the full-swelled clouds whirl from on high  
Black showers & storms about: the thunder's noise  
Even rends high heaven, & falling rain destroys  
All crops, and all that th' Oxens' toil has done.  
Dikes fill: with sound the swollen rivers run;  
The seas with troubled agitations move.  
In midst of that tempestuous night, great jove  
From a bright hand his winged thunder throws:  
Which shakes the earth; beasts fly; sad terror goes  
Through mortal breasts. His burning dart doth awe  
Rhodope, Athos, th' high Ceraunia.  
The showery South winds double now, and round  
The woods do murmur, and beat shores resound.  
For fear● of this observe the months and signs:  
Mark to what house Satur's cold star inclines:  
And with what planet Mercury doth join.  
But first give worship to the powers divine:  
Offer to Ceres yearly sacrifice  
With feasts upon the grass, when winter is  
Quite spent, and now the spring doth fresh appear.  
Then lambs are fat, than wines are purged & clear:  
The shady mountains then sweet sleeps afford.  
Let her by all thy plowmen be adored:  
Let honey, milk, and wine be offered  
To her, and th' happy sacrifice be led  
About the new corn thrice, whilst every one  
Follows with joyful acclamation,  
Imploring Ceres' favour; and let none  
Presume to thrust a sickle into corn,  
Unless with oaken wreathes he first adorn  
His head, and dance unartificially  
With hymns of praise to Ceres' Deity.  
And that by certain tokens we might know  
When heat will come, when rain, when winds shall blow,  
Great jove ordained monthly what the Moon  
Should teach, what signs foretell, when winds go down,  
That husbandmen, marking what oft befalls  
Know when to keep their cattle in the stalls.  
Just ere the winds arise, the Sea swells high,  
Great noise is heard from all the mountains nigh,  
Then hollow murmurs through the woods you hear,  
And all the shores resounding far and near.  
Then Seas are ill to Sailors evermore  
When Cormorants fly crying to the shore  
From the midsea, when Sea fowl pastime make  
Upon dry land, when Herns the ponds forsake,  
And mounted on their wings do fly aloft.  
You may discern, when winds are rising, oft  
The stars in heaven do seem to fall, and make  
Through nights dark air a long and fiery track.  
Oft straw and withered leaves in th' air fly up,  
And feathers swim upon the water's top.  
But when it lightens from the boisterous North,  
And th' East, and Western houses thunder forth,  
The Lands oreflowed, the Dikes filled every where,  
And Mariners wet sails on th' Ocean bear,  
The storm can ne'er thee unawares surprise,  
For from the Valleys, ere it thence arise,  
The Cranes do fly, the Bullock upward throws  
His head, and snuffs the air into his nose;  
The subtle Swallow flies about the brook,  
And querulous Frogs in muddy pools do croak.  
Th' industrious Ant through narrow paths doth role  
Her eggs along from out her little hole.  
The Rainbow seems to drink the waves, & home  
The Crows in mighty shoals from feeding come,  
And clap their wings aloud; Sea-fowles, and those  
That feed along where fair Cayster flows  
Through th' Asian meadows, you may often see  
Bathing themselves in water greedily.  
They oft dive down, and swimming to and fro  
A glad, though vain, desire of washing show.  
Then with full throats the wicked Rooks call on  
The rain, and wander on the shores alone,  
Offering their heads to the approaching showers.  
As maids in spinning spend the night's late hours,  
Their burning lamps the storm ensuing show,  
Th' oil sparkles, thiefs about the snuff do grow.  
By no less true, and certain signs may we  
Fair days and sunshine in a storm foresee.  
For then the stars aspects are clear to us,  
Nor does the moon arise obnoxious  
Unto her brother's rays, nor o'er the sky  
Do little clouds like woolly fleeces fly:  
The Theus-loved Kings-fishers spread not then  
Their wings against the sun; nor Hogs unclean  
Prepare them heaps of straw to lie upon.  
But to the lowest vales the clouds fall down.  
The fatal owl high mounted at sun set  
Does not the baleful evening song repeat.  
Nisus his wings in th' air aloft displays,  
And for his purple lock false Scylla pays.  
Where ever Scylla through the air doth fly,  
Nisus, her fierce and cruel enemy,  
With eager flight pursues; from thence where he  
Appears, with fearful wing doth Scylla fly.  
The ravens with a loud, and strained throat  
From their high nest do oft repeat their note,  
And amongst the leaves they croak together all  
As taken with a joy unusual;  
It does them good, the storm now spent, to see  
Their nests of young ones, and dear progeny.  
I do not think that all these creatures have  
More wisdom than the fates to mankind gave;  
But thus; as tempests, as th' unconstant skies  
Do change their course, as several winds arise  
In th' air, and do condense, or ra●ifie,  
●ust so their natures alter instantly.  
Their breasts receive impressions different;  
As some by calms, so some by storms are sent.  
Hence that consent of joy or woe doth slow  
Which croaking ravens, fowl, and cattle show.  
But if that to the swiftly moving sun  
Thou look for signs, or to the following moon,  
The next day's weather thou mayst know, nor be  
Deceived by a fair evenings treachery.  
Be sure great storms by sea and land ensue  
When first the Moon doth her waned light renew,  
If then her dulled horns dark air embrace.  
But if a redness hide her virgin face  
It will be windy; that complexion  
In her shows wind. But in the fourth new Moon  
(For that's the certainest author) if most clear,  
And free from dimness her bright horns appear,  
That day, and all the following days shall be  
Till the month's end, from rain and tempests free▪  
To Panopaea, Glancu●, Inoe● boy  
The saved Mariners shall pay with joy  
Their vows upon the shore. But surest of all,  
And best the Sun, when he doth rise, or fall  
Into the Ocean, doth those rules bestow,  
When he or yields to night, or morn doth show.  
When full of spots the rising Sun doth seem,  
Hid in a cloud, and in his middle dim,  
Suspect great rain; the moist southwind is nigh  
To cattle, corn, and trees an enemy.  
Or when thick clouds the morning Sun do hide,  
Yet ●ound about his shining rays are spied,  
Or when Aurora with a countenance pale  
Leaves Tithonus' rosy bed, then ill from hail,  
Which leaps into all houses rattling hard,  
Can thin vine leaves (alas) the clusters guard▪  
These signs more surely may observed be  
About the setting Sun; for oft we see  
His face with various colours is o'erspread;  
Azure betokens rain: a fiery red  
Shows wind. But if that redness mixed appear  
And full of little spots, than every where  
Both wind and rain together shall be seen▪  
In such a night, when that sad sign hath been,  
Shall no persuasions make me venture over  
The Seas, or lose my Cables from the shore.  
But when his Orb both even and morn is bright,  
Then let no fear of storms thy mind affright.  
The woods no winds but dry North winds shall move.  
And last of all how all the night shall prove,  
Fron whence dry clouds the northmen wind shall drive,  
And what moist seasons the south winds shall give,  
The Sun shall perfectly declare to thee,  
And who dares tax the Sun of falsity?  
He oft forewarns us of blind tumults nigh,  
Of growing wars, and secret treachery.  
He pitying Rome, when Caesar murdered died,  
In sable darkness his bright head did hide,  
And night eternal threatened th' impious age.  
Then besides him did th' earth and seas presage:  
The Dogs and fatal birds sad signs did yield.  
How often then into the Cyclop● field  
Did Aetna's burning caverne overflow,  
And globes of fire, and melted stones did throw?  
The trembling Alps did shake; o'er all the sky  
A noise of arms was heard in Germany.  
In solitary groves were often heard  
Affrighting voices, and pale ghosts appeared  
When night began; the beasts against nature spoke;  
Hoods stopped their courses; the cleft earth did make  
Wide chinks; on statues, which our temples kept,  
The brass did sweat, the mourning ivory wept.  
Swelling Eriadnus the king of floods▪  
With violence o'erthrew the lofty woods,  
And o'er the fields both beasts and stalls did bear.  
Beast's entrailes sad, and threatening did appear.  
The Wells were filled with blood; in depth of night  
The howling Wolves did greatest Towns affright▪  
Nere flew more lightning through a welkin fair,  
Nor more portentous comets filled the air.  
Therefore with equal ensigns once again  
Two Roman hosts fought on Philippi Plain.  
The gods were pleased that our blood-dropping wounds  
Should twice manure Aemathiaes' fatal grounds.  
Rust eaten piles and swords in time to come,  
When crooked blows dig up earth's fertile womb;  
The husbandman shall oft discover there,  
And harrows i●on teeth shall every where  
Rake helmets up; plowmen in graves so old  
Such large-sized bones shall wonder to behold.  
Romulus, Ve●●a, and ye native gods  
That keep by Tuscan Tiber your abodes,  
And Rome's high palaces, take not away  
Young Caesa●, now the only aid and stay  
Of this distressed age; enough have we  
Already paid for Troy's old perjury.  
The court of heaven already envies us  
Caesar, for thee, that thou vouchsafest thus  
Poor earthly triumphs to regard below.  
For when such mischiefs, and dire wars did flow  
o'er all the world, & right with wrong confound,  
The ploughs neglected lay, the fruitless ground  
Oregrown with weeds, for want of tilers mourned,  
And crooked sickles into swords were turned.  
Euphrates here, there Germany in arms  
Was up; on other side the loud alarms  
F●ight neighbouring cities; all accords are broke,  
And all the world with impious war is shaken.  
So when swift chariots from the lists are gone,  
Their furious haste increases as they run.  
In vain the charioteer their course would stay;  
Th'ungoverned horses hurry him away.  
Finis libri primi.   

Annotations upon the first BOOK.  
IT is not unknown to any man, who is an able judge of this work, that Virgil, though Prince of the Roman Poets (for that title his own age freely afforded him, and the judgement or modesty of succeeding times never detracted from him) did help his invention by imitation of the Grecian Poets; & in this work of his Georgics, (to speak nothing of his Aeneids, or Bucolics) he has taken his subject from Ascraean Hesiod; as his own verse in the second book modestly acknowledges.  
Ascraevinque cano Romana per oppida carmen. In this subject (though the learning of Virgil must needs carry him upon other matters than Hesiod treated of, and his own intent to honour his native Italy, which was then mistress of the conquered world, and to whose climate and properties he especially proportions this discourse of husbandry) he retains in many things the Grecian way; bee invokes their gods (men whose ancient worth had deis●ed them to posterity) he builds upon many stories, which either the Greckes invented, or the distance of time has made posterity not to credit them as truths, but entitle them poetical stories. Some of these histories which are shortly mentioned in this Werks, I have thought fitting to relate here for th● ease or delight of the English reader, ●●treating all Readers to pardon me for striving only to please them: (for to me it can add nothing, since all men of judgement can tell how easily, and where I find them.) I have not mentioned them all; nor made a large comment upon the work to extend it to an unnecessary bulk; but mentioned such only as I thought fitting.  

(b) Staphylus the son of Sithneus, and chief Shepherd to Oeneus king of Aetolia, had observed that one of his goats did often in feeding separat itself from the rest of the flock, and by that feeding was grown fatter and better in liking than all the rest. He upon a day resolved to watch this goat, and found it feeding on a cluster of grapes: he gathered some of the grapes, & wondering at the novelty and rareness of the fruit, presented it to the King his Master. The King tasted it, and wondrously pleased, and cheered with the juice of it, began to esteem it of great value; insomuch as not long after it so happened, that the great Bacchus returning from his Indian conquests, was entertained at the court of this Oeneus; who presented to Bacchus his newfound fruit. Bacchus, who before had learned the use of it, instructed the king how to continue the race, and the manner how to dress, and perfect his vines; and ordained withal that the wine in the Greek language should be called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, in honour of Oeneus, and the grape 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, after the name of Staphylus the king's shepherd.   

(c) These Faunt are accounted the country Gods, and are thought always to inhabit in the woods. The first of them was Faunus' king of the Aborigines, the son of Picus, & grandchild of Saturn, who first reduced the inhabitants of Italy to a civil life: he built houses, and consecrated woods; in honour of so great a merit as this, he was by his thankful posterity (as the custom was of those times) consecrated a god, and his oracle with great devotion kept in Abbunea an Italian wood. Of his name all Temples were afterwards called Fanes; he married his sister Fauna, whom the Romans in after times honoured with great devotion, and called her Bona; She gave Oracles to the women, as her husband Faunus did unto the men.   

(d) The Fable is thus; When the famous City of Athens was founded, and Neptune and Minerva were in great contention who should have the honour of naming the place, it pleased the gods to appoint it thus, that the honour should accrue to that deity, who could bestow the greatest benefit upon mankind. Upon which sentence Neptune with his trident striking the shore, immediately a furious horse provided, and armed for the war, was created by that stroke: Minerva casting her javelin from her, of that javelin produced an Olive tree; which being a fruitful and good plant, and the emblem of peace, was judged more useful and profiable to mankind. The cause why our Author invoketh Neptune in this place, is, because he intendeth to speak of horses in the third Book of this Worke. Which had been else unfit in a discourse concerning affairs of Land to have invoked a god of the Sea.   

(c) Aristaeus, who is here invoked was reported the son of Apollo, and the Nymph Cyrene: This Aristaeus the father of Actaeon, who transformed into a stag (as Ovid's fable delivers it) was devoured by his dogs, grieved for his son's death, departed from Thebes to the Island Caea, which was then destitute of inhabitants by reason of a pestilence which had there happened: This Caea is an Island in the Aegaean sea; from whence he sailed into Arcadia, & there ended the residue of his life. In Arcadia he was honoured as a god after his death for teaching the people that strange mystery of making Bees.   

(f) This youth here named the invent●r of the Blow, is by most thought to be Osiris the King, and afterwards god of the Egyptians. He was the first that ever taught the Egyptians his countrymen the use of Oxen for ploughing of their ground. He was honoured by them as a god after his death for this great benefit; and worshipped in the form of an Ox●, which was called Apis, in the City of Memphis. And in memory of this also Isis the wife of that Osiris was honoured as a goddess, and had solemn sacrifices, in which an care of corn was carried before the pomp, and all plowmen in harvest time sacrified to her with the straw of wheat.   

(g) The history of the birth, life, and deity of this god Sylvanus is thus reported; A shepherd, whose name was Cratis, abused to his lust ash●e-Goat of his flock: and when upon a time Cratis was sleeping by a river● side; that hee-Goat, which used the company of the shee-Goat, in a jealous fury, assaulted Cratis with his horns, and tumbled him into the river; from whose name the flood was afterwards called Cratis. This monstrous issue of he Shepherd and the Goat, when it was brought to light, resembled them both, and was a Goat in the neither parts, but in the upper it carried the shape of a man. Being afterward brought up and growing in the woods, the Shepherds astonished at so strange a shape, began to honour and adore him for a god, calling him Sylvanus, from the woods wherein he lived. This god Sylvanus was extremely enamoured on a beauteous youth named Cyparissus, who with great care had brought up a tame Deer; and when on a time the youth unhappily trying his Bow, had missed the mark, and slain unawares his beloved Deer, out of extremity and impatience of grief he died. Sylvanus lamenting the death of his minion Cyparissus, fell down weeping upon the dead body, and vowed never to part from those embraces: which he continued so long ●ntill the gods in pity to Sylvanus, transformed the body of Cyparissus into a tree, called, from him, the Cypress tree, which ever after was a tree of mourning, and garnished great men's houses at funerals, as all the Poet's mention; and Sylvanus is accounted the god protector of that tree.   

(h) Erigone the virgin was the daughter of Icarus an Athenian shepherd, whose pierie to her father was much renowned: insomuch as that when her father was slain (as shall be afterwards declared) she never parted from the dead body, but died with him; and by the pity of the gods, as Poets say, was taken up into heaven, and made a sign in the Zodiac, called Virgo.   

(ay) The Husbandmen in ancient time sacrificed to Ceres the goddess of Corne. They killed a fat Hog as the sacrifice itself, a creature whose rooting endamages the corn. About this sacrifice the whole Chorus of the husbandmen danced in a rude inartificial manner (for such dances in Religion were accepted) and sang songs in honour of the goddess Ceres, who first invented Corne. They wore upon their heads branches of Oaken trees, in a thankful remembrance of their old food: for before her bounty to mankind had taught them the ways of tilling and harvest, the people lived upon Mast and Acorns.   

(k) For twice in that country the Romans fought in civil war: first julius Caesar against Pompey the Great, afterward Octavius Caesar and Marcus Antonius against Marcus Brutus and Caius Cassius.   
FINIS.   

GEORGICON. The second BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
THis Book the nature of all trees defines,  
Of fat-rined Olives, of heart-cheering Vine●,  
And other lesse-famed plants; to every tree  
It's proper climate, growth, and quality  
Assigns; and teaches how to propagate,  
How to engraft, transplant, inoculate.  
With what rich fruit some happy lands are blest,  
Which others want: and here 'bove all the rest  
Our Poet doth infer the praises high  
Of his own native fruitful Italy;  
Her meadows, herds, fair towns, and rivers known  
To all the world; her nations of renown,  
And men of honoured name. Last, it doth show  
The bliss of plowmen, if their bliss they knew.  
THus much of tillage, and celestial signs;  
thou, Bacchus, now I'll sing; & with thy vines  
Other wild Plants, and Olives slowly growing.  
Hither, o Father (for thy gifts are flowing  
o'er all things here; the vineyards by thy care  
With rich Autumn all fruit full laden are,  
And vinetages o'erflow) o● hither deign  
To come, great Bacchus, and when thou hast ta'en  
Thy buskins off, oh than vouchsafe with me  
In new sweet wine to dip thy bared thigh.  
Nature on trees doth different births bestow;  
Some of themselves without man's aid do grow;  
And round the fields, and crooked rivers come,  
As limber Osiers, Poplars, tender broom,  
And grey-leaved Willows; some from seed arise;  
Such are the lofty Chest nuts, and those trees,  
Which jove his greatest holds, th' high Aeschylus,  
And th' Oak by greeks esteemed oraculous.  
Some from their own great roots make young ones rise  
About them round, as Elms and Cherry trees;  
And young Parnassian bays do often so  
Under their mother's shadow sheltered grow.  
These ways of planting nature first did bring:  
So trees, so herbs, and sacred woods did spring.  
But other ways experience since hath found.  
Some plant young shoots cut off from trees in ground,  
Some graft young rooted stalks in deeper mould;  
And sharp crosse-cloven stakes: some bow their old  
Vines into ranges, propagating young,  
Which thence in arches on both sides have sprung.  
Some need no roots; the Pruner young slips cuts,  
And them into the earth securely puts.  
And (wondrous to be told) an Olive tree  
Out from a dry cut trunk oft springs we see.  
And often are the branches of one tree  
Into another grasfed prosperously;  
So from an Apple stock ripe Pears do come,  
And hard red cornoiles from a stock of Plum,  
Therefore be careful, husbandmen, to know  
What art belongs to every tree, and how  
To make wild trees by dressing better grow.  
Keep no ground barren: Ismarus will please  
Bacchus, Taburnus will bear Olive trees.  
And thou, Maecenas, to whose grace I owe  
My fame and glory, be propitious now;  
Lend thy free favour to this subject plain.  
I dare not hope this Poem should contain  
All parts of it, had I an hundred tongues,  
To them an hundred mouths, and iron lungs.  
Wa●t me from shore: the earth's description's plain.  
Nor will I here, Maecenas, thee detain  
With Poet's fictions, nor oppress thine ear  
With circumstance, and long exordiums here.  
Those trees, which of themselves shoot up in th' air,  
Do grow unfruitfully, but strong and fair;  
For in the soil their nature is; but these  
If thou do take, and graefe in other trees,  
Or else transplant them well, they'll quite forsake  
Their barren nature, and most aptly take  
By dressing oft, what form thou wouldst bestow.  
The like those trees, that spring from roots, will do,  
If them to th' open fields thou do remove;  
But now their mother's leaves, and boughs above  
Oreshadow them and make them barren trees.  
But all those plants, which do from seeds arise,  
Grow slow, and shade to our grandchildren give.  
They still degenerate the more they live.  
Good grapes turn birds meat, grown extremely bad,  
And apples lose the first good juice they had.  
They must be mended all, well digged, and dressed,  
And by much labour tamed; the Olive best,  
And Venus Myrtle set in trunks do live,  
And Vines the best by propagation thrive.  
From small slips set do Fil●erts grow, we see,  
Jove's Oak, and great Alcides' Poplar tree,  
The stately Ashes, lofty Palms, and Firs  
Employed at sea by venturous Mariners.  
Rough arbute slips into a hazel bough  
Are oft ingraffed; and good Apples grow  
Out of a Plain trees stock: the Chestnut bears  
Ingraffed Beech: in tall wild Ashes Pears  
Do flourish best; from Elms Oak-acorns fall  
To Hogs; nor are the ways alike in all  
How to engraff, how to inoculate.  
For where the tender rind opening of late  
Shot forth a bud, just at that knot they cut  
A little hole; into that hole they put  
A budding shoot ●ane from another tree;  
The rind then closing makes them prosperously  
Together grow. But if the trunk be free  
From knots, they cleave the trunk of such a tree  
With wedges, putting fruitful slips therein;  
Within short time th' engrafted slips begin  
To grow to prosperous height; the other tree  
Wonders such stranger fruit, and leaves to see.  
Nor are the ways alike in all of these,  
In Willows, Lotes, Idaean Cypresses,  
And sturdy Elms; nor in one manner do  
All kinds of Olives, the long Radii grow,  
Nor Olives orchites, or Pausia named,  
Nor apples, nor Alcinous fruit so famed.  
Nor must all shoots of pears alike be set,  
Crustumian, Syrian pears, and wardens great.  
Nor hang the vines upon our trees as do  
Those that in Lesbian Methymna grow.  
The Thasian vines in barren soil abound:  
The Ma●●otike thrive in richer ground;  
The Psithian grapes are best of all to dry.  
Besides these, strong Lagaean wines there be,  
Whose strength makes drunkards stagger, & doth tie  
Their tongues; ●ath-ripe, & purple grapes there be;  
But in what verse shall ● enough commend  
The Rhetian grape? yet let it not contend  
With the Tabernian. Aminean vines  
There are beside, which bear the firmest wines.  
Cilician, and Phanaean grapes there are,  
And white grapes less than those; none may compare  
With these for store of juice, and lasting long.  
Nor will I pass thy vintage in my song  
O Rhodes, for feasts and sacrifices famed;  
Nor that great grape from a Cow's udder named.  
But all the kinds, and names of grapes that are  
'tis numberless and needless to declare.  
Which he that seeks to do, as soon may know  
How many Libyan sands the West winds blow;  
Or when fierce Eurus against the Sailors roars,  
How many waves roll to th' Iônian shores.  
Nor can all grounds bring forth all plants we see;  
By rivers Willows prosper: th' Alder tree  
O● mo●ish grounds: on rocky mountains grow  
Wild Ashes: Myrtles on the shores below;  
Vines love warm open heights; the Northern cold  
Makes Yew trees prosper. And again behold  
The conquered world's farthest inhabitants,  
Eastern Arabians, painted Scythians.  
See there all trees their proper countries know;  
In India only does black Eben grow:  
None but Sabaea boasts of Frankincense.  
Why should I name that fragrant wood, from whence  
Sweet Balsam sweats? the berries or the buds  
Of Bears-foot ever green? those hoary woods  
Of Aethiopia clothed with snowy wool?  
Or how the Seres their rich fleeces pull  
From leaves of trees? or those fair woods, which grow  
near to the Indian sea, whose highest bough  
No Arrows flight can reach? none shoot so high,  
Although that Nation no bad Archers be.  
Slow-tasted Apples Media doth produce,  
And bitter too, but of a happy use;  
Than which no surer Antidote is known,  
T' expel a poyson-tempered potion,  
When cruel stepdames their sad cups have used,  
With charming words, and baneful herbs infused.  
The tree is fair, just like a Laurel tree,  
And were indeed a Laurel perfectly,  
But that their smells far differ; no winds blast  
Shakes off her leaves, her blossoms still stick fa●t.  
With this the Mede shortwinded old men eases,  
And cures the lungs unsavoury diseases.  
But not the richest land, not Median woods,  
Not golden Hermus, nor fair Ganges sloods  
May ought for praise contend with Italy,  
Nor fair Panchaia famed for spicery,  
Bactia, nor India; no Bulls, that blow  
Fire from their nostrils, did that Region plough:  
No Dragon's teeth therein were sowed, to bear  
A crop of Soldiers armed with shield and spear.  
Besides this land a spring perpetual sees,  
Twice breeding cattle, twice fruit-bearing trees.  
And summers there in months unusual shine;  
But no wild Tigers in that coast are seen,  
No savage Lions breed, nor in that land  
Do poisonous herbs deceive the gatherers' hand.  
No huge and s●aly snake on those fair grounds  
Makes fearful tracks, or twines in hideous rounds.  
Add to all these so many structures fair  
Of beauteous Cities, of strong Towns, that are  
Fenced with rocks impregnable, and how  
Under those Ancient walls great Rivers flow.  
Shall I insist on those two seas that flow  
'Bout Italy, above it and below?  
Or her great lakes? thee mighty Larius?  
Or thee tempestuous sealike Benacus?  
Or praise her havens? or the Lucrine lake?  
Where the imprisoned julian waters make  
A loud & wrathful noise, through which the great  
Sea-tides into Avernus' lake are let?  
Besides the land abounds with metals store,  
With veins of ●ilver, gold and brazen ore;  
It nurturs Nations bold, the Marsians,  
The ●i●●ce Sabellians, dart-armed Vol●cians,  
Hardy Ligurians; in particular  
The Decii, Marii, those brave names of war,  
The great Camilli, valiant Scipio's,  
And thee, great Caesar, now victorious  
In Asia's utmost bounds, whose conquering powers  
From flying Indians guard the Roman towers.  
Hail Satur's land in riches great, and great  
In men; for thee I will presume t' entreat  
Of th' ancient praised arts, open sacred springs,  
And through Rome's towns A●crean poems sing.  
Now all soils several natures let us see,  
Their strengths, their colours, and fertility.  
First barren hills, and hard unfruitful ground,  
Where clay is scarce, and gravel doth abound,  
Is good for Pallas long-lived Olive tree.  
For in such soils we by experience see  
Wild Olive trees do in abundance grow,  
And all the fields with their wild Olives strew.  
But ground more fertile, with sweet moisture filled,  
Well clothed with grass, and fruitful to be tilled,  
(Such as in valleys we do oft espy,  
Whither the waters flow from hills on high,  
Leaving a fruitful slime) where Southwinds blow,  
And Brakes, great hinderers of all ploughing, grow,  
Will yield thee spreading vines, and full of juice,  
And lusty wines, such as we sacrifice  
In golden goblets to the gods, as soon  
As the swollen Tuscan trumpeter has done  
His sounding at the Altar, which we load  
With reeking entrailes brought in chargers broad.  
But if thou rather Herds, or Calves wouldst keep,  
Or Goats, whose grazing burns the fields, or sheep;  
Then seek Tarentums lawns, and farthest coast,  
Such fields as hapless Mantua has lost,  
Where snowy Swans feed in the meadows near  
The river's side; nor grass, nor water there  
Thy Herds can want; what grass they eat by days,  
The dewy night back to the field repays.  
But ground in colour black, and fat below,  
Putrid and loose (for such we wish to plow)  
Is best for co●ne; for from no ground do come  
Mother l●den wagons, and tired Oxen home.  
Or where of late the ploughman grubbed up wood,  
Which quiet there for many years had stood,  
And birds old nests has from the roots o'erthrown;  
They ●est of dwellings now from thence are flown;  
The newmade ground once ploughed most fruitful grows.  
Course barren sand, & hilly scarce bestows  
Casia, and ●lowers for Bees to feed upon,  
Nor chaulk, nor that so soft though rugged stone  
Eat by black snakes; no ground on snakes so good  
Close holes bestows, nor such delicious food.  
But that rich land, which doth exhale like smokes  
Thin vapours up, that showers of rain in soaks,  
And when ●he lists returns them forth again,  
Whose mould with ●ust the iron doth not stain,  
Which clothes herself in her own grassy greene●  
That Land (as well in tillage may be seen)  
Is good to pasture cattle good to plow,  
There Vines and Olives prosperously grow.  
Such Lands by Capua, by Vesuvius high,  
And Clanius, that o●e●lowes Acerrae, lie.  
● How to discern each soil ●le teach thee now,  
Which mould is thick and which is loose to know.  
(For one ●●aeus, other Ceres loves:  
Vines love loose grounds, corn best in thickest proves)  
Choose with thine eye that piece that is most plain;  
There dig a pit, and then throw in again  
The clods and earth, and tread them strongly in;  
If they'll not fill the pit, the soil is thin,  
And best for Vineyards, and for pasture grass;  
But if the clods do more than fill the place,  
The earth is thick and solid; try that soil,  
And plow it well, though hard and full of toil.  
That earth that's salted, or bitter, bad for sowing,  
(For that will never be made good by ploughing,  
Nor vines, nor apples planted there, abide  
In their first generous taste) may thus be tried;  
Take a thick-woven Osiar colander,  
Through which the pressed wines are strained clear,  
And put a piece of that bad earth into it  
Well mixed with water, & then strain them through it,  
You shall perceive the struggling water flow,  
And in great drops will through the Osiers go,  
But by the taste you may discern it plain;  
The bitterness will make the taster strain  
His countenance awry. So you may know  
By handling, whether ground be fat or no;  
Lean earth will crumble into du●t▪ but thick  
Like pitch fat earth will to your fingers stick.  
Moist land brings forth tall grass, and oft is found  
Too rich; oh give not me so rank a ground,  
Nor let it co●ns young husks too richly raise.  
Earth that is heavy her own weight betrays,  
And so of light; our eyes do judge aright  
The colour of the land or black or white▪  
But to find out that cursed quality  
Of cold in grounds, of all, will hardest be;  
Yet that the trees, which prosper there, will show,  
Pitch trees, black Ivy, and the baleful Yew.  
These things considered well, remember thou  
Long before hand in furrows deep to plow  
And break the earth; then let it lie thus broke  
Exposed to North-cast-windes and winter's shock,  
Before thou plant thy fruitful Vines therein,  
For they thrive best in rotten ground, and thin.  
The Winds and hoary Frosts, after the toil  
Of digging (Husbandmen) will rot the soil.  
But he, that throughly vigilant will be,  
Must find a place out for a nursery  
Just like the place he plants in, left a tree  
Transplanted do not with the soil agree.  
And he, to plant it as it was, must mark  
The Heavens four quarters on the tender ba●ke,  
To know how every tree did stand, which side  
Endured the South, which did the North abide,  
And let their former situation stand.  
Consider then if Plain or mountain Land  
Be best for Vines; if plain good ground thou choose  
Then plant them thick; the Grapes can nothing lose  
By their thick standing there; if on a Hill  
Thou plant, with measure, and exactest skill,  
Set them in rows by equal distance held;  
As when an Army's ranged in the field,  
And stands for trial of a mighty day;  
In equal squadrons they themselves display  
o'er the broad field, which seems with glittering arms  
To move, before the battels fierce alarms  
Do ●ound, and Mars to both stands doubtful yet.  
So trees at equal distance ranked set,  
Not only to delight thy prospect there,  
But cause the ground can no way else confer  
To all an equal vigour, nor can they  
Have room at large their branches to display.  
Perchance how deep to dig thy furrows now  
Thou'dst learn. Thy Vines in shallow ones, will grow  
But other trees more deeply digged must be;  
Chiefly th' Aesculean Oak, who still more high  
He lifts his branches in the air, more low  
His root doth downward to Avernus go.  
Therefore no winds, nor winter storms o'erthrow  
Tho●● Trees; for many years unmoved they grow,  
And many ages of mankind outwear,  
And sp 〈…〉 ing their fair branches here and there,  
Themselves 〈…〉 do make a stately s●ade.  
Let not thy Vineyards to the West be made,  
Nor plant t●ou ●●asels amongst thy Vines, nor yet  
Lop off their highest branches, which are beat  
With winds, nor prune them with blunt knives, nor yet  
Wild Olive trees amongst other Olives set.  
For unawares fire oft is scattered;  
Which in the dry fat ●inde concealed, and fed  
Seizes the tree, the leaves and branches takes,  
And through the air a crackling noise it makes,  
Till on the top it reign with victory  
Involving all the wood in flames, and fly  
Like a black pitchy cloud up to the sky,  
Especially if stormy winds do lie  
Upon the wood, the flames about to bear.  
When this doth chance, the Olives burned there  
Spring from the root no more in their first state,  
But to wild Olives do degenerate.  
Let none persuade thee then, how wise so ere,  
When Boreas blows, the hardened earth to stir;  
Winter congeals the ground, and suffers not  
The trees new set in th' earth to spread their root.  
But when the golden spring doth first appear,  
And that white bird is come, whom serpents fear,  
Is the best time of all to plant thy vines:  
The next is when the Autumnal cold begins;  
When now the 〈◊〉 short●ns the days, and done  
The Summer is, yet winter not begun.  
The Spring's the time that clothes the woods with leaves;  
The earth than swells, and seed with joy receives.  
The jove Almighty down descends, and powers  
Into the earth's glad bosom fruitful showers,  
And mixed with her great body, he doth feed  
All births of hers, and foster every seed.  
Each bush with loudly chirping birds is graced;  
Beasts at set times the joys of Venus' taste:  
The ground stirred up by Zephyrs warmer wind  
Opens herself, and brings forth fruit in kind.  
Young blooming trees dare trust themselves unto  
The Sun new mounted; the vine branches now  
Fear not the rising Southrens winds, nor yet  
The North-East-winde, that causes tempests great.  
But shoot their blossoms forth, & spread their leaf.  
No other days but such ('tis my belief)  
When first the world beginning had, were known▪  
Th' earth had no other tenor; Spring alone,  
And that perpetual, the great world enjoyed;  
No Eastwindes winter blasts that age annoyed,  
When first all cattle their beginning had,  
When of the earth mankind's hard race was made,  
When wild Beasts filled the woods, & stars the sky.  
Nor could the tender creatures easily  
Endure this change; but heaven to make amends  
'twixt heat and cold this tempered season sends.  
What plants so ere thou setst in th' earth, be sure  
Cover them well, and with fat dung manure;  
Put shells, and sandy stones therein; 'twixt them  
Moisture will flow, and thin exhaling steam;  
From whence the plants will gather hart. Some lay  
Great stones at top, & vessels of thick clay,  
Which from all storms will guard and fence them sound,  
This when the dog-star cleaves the thirsty ground.  
And when thou plantst thy Vines dig round about  
To bring good store of earth to every root;  
Or exercise thy struggling Steers, to plow  
The ground in surrowes deep 'twixt every row.  
Then get light reeds, smooth wands, & ashen stakes  
With horned forks, whose supportation makes  
Young Vines contemn the winds, and to the top  
Of Elms to climb by broadspred branches up▪  
But when their leaves do first begin to be,  
And new-growne branches from supporting free  
Shoot loose into the Air; then spare to use  
Thy pruning knife so soon, and rather choose  
The leaves superfluous with thy hands to pull.  
But when embracing Elms with arms more full  
And strong, they grow; then confidently pair  
Their leaves and branches too; before they fear●  
The pruning knife; then do not spare the same;  
But their superfluous growth with rigour tame.  
Then make strong hedges to keep cattle out,  
Young beasts especially, and yet unwrought.  
Wild Bulls and greedy Goats more harm will do  
Than scorching Summers, and cold Winters too.  
There Sheep will browse, and feeding Heifers go.  
The Winter's hoary Frosts, and falling Snow,  
And parching Suns that burn the hardest rocks,  
endamage Vines less than those greedy flock●●  
Their browzing teeth do venom leave behind,  
And kill scars upon the stock and rind.  
No other fault there was, that Goats did d●●  
At Bacchus' Altars, and th' old Comedy  
Was celebrated, that th' Athenian plays  
In Villages, and all crosse-meeting ways  
Were graced; and men, o'er meadows in their po●●  
Did dance about th' anointed skins of Goat●●  
Th' Italian Nations also sprung from Troy  
Singing Saturnian rythms with open joy  
And laughter loose, horrid disguises wor●  
Of hollowed barks of trees, and did adore  
With hymns of mirth, Bacchus, thy power divine,  
And virgins statues on the lofty pine  
Did hang. Then vineyards fruitfully did bear,  
All vales, and lawns were fertile every where,  
Where ere the god his beauteous head do show.  
Therefore let us these rites to Bacchus do  
In our own mother language, offering  
Full cups, and wafers; and to th' altar bring  
A guilty goat led by the horns, and his  
Fat entrailes roast on spits of cornoile trees.  
Besides in dressing vines more pains is shown,  
To which there never can enough be done;  
For every year the ground must digged be  
Three or four times, and ploughed eternally;  
The leaves must oft be gathered; all the pain,  
That husbandmen bestow, returns again;  
His own steps back the circling year doth tread.  
And when the vines their leaves in Autumn shed,  
And all the woods of clothing robbed are  
By North-east-windes: even then th'industrious care  
Of th'husbandman unto the following year  
Extends itself; then he begins to pair  
The vine with Saturn's crooked hook, and right  
By skilful pruning to refashion it.  
First dig the ground: first burn the shreds cut off:  
And lay thy rests up dry within thy roof;  
Gather thy vintage last. Leaves twice oreshade  
The vines, as twice the ranke-grown weeds invade  
Young corn. Both which require great toil to mend.  
Till thou a little farm, though thou commend  
A great one. And besides sharp twigs of thorn  
From woods, and reeds on banks of rivers born,  
Thou for thy vines must cut, and careful be  
For willow groves, which else neglected lie.  
Now when the vines are bound, & pruned, and all:  
And th' husband sings about the vineyard wall;  
Yet there remains a care, to dust them there,  
And storms, even when the grapes are ripe, to fear.  
chose unto the Olive three  
No dressing doth belong, nor needeth she  
The crooked hook, nor harrow, when once fair  
She stands in ground, and once has felt the air▪  
The earth itself, when furrowed by the plough,  
Doth food enough on her, and corn bestow.  
Therefore the fat and fruitful Olive nourish.  
So th' Apple tree in a full stock doth flourish,  
And once full grown up to the sky she towers  
By her own strength, and needs no help of ours  
So of themselves wild Woods, and every Bush  
Bear fruit, and with Vermilion berries blush;  
Low shrubs are shorn brands on high trees do grow,  
That feed the nightly fire, and light bestow.  
And doubt men yet to plant, and care bestow?  
(To leave great trees) Willows and Broom so low  
Do cooling shades to Sheep and Shepherds give,  
Hedges for corn, and food for Bees to live.  
How pleasantly with Box Cytorus stows?  
With her Pitch trees how fair Maricia shows?  
Oh how it pleases me those fields to see,  
That need no ploughs, nor humane industry!  
Those barren Woods on Caucasus high hill,  
Which strong Eastwindes do wave, and rattle still,  
Have each their several use; Pines for the Seas;  
For House's Cypress, and tall Cedar trees.  
From hence the Plowmen Spokes for wheels do take●  
Covers for Wanes, & Keels for Ships they make.  
Willows do useful twigs afford, Elmes shade;  
Of Cornoile trees, and Myrtles darts are made:  
Yew trees, to make strong Parthian Bows, are bowed;  
Tile trees, & pliant Box may be bestowed  
Hollowed, or turned, in forms, and uses good;  
Light alderne barks do swim the Po's rough flood;  
In rotten-holme stocks, and the rinds of trees  
You oft may find the honeycombs of Bees.  
What benefits like these come from the Vine?  
That causes guilt. The Centaurs filled with wine  
Great Rhaetus, Pholus, and Hylaeus died,  
When they with pots the Lapithees defied.  
Oh too too happy, if their bliss they knew,  
Plain Husbandmen; to whom the earth with true  
And bounteous justice, free from bloody war  
Returns an easy food; who, though they are  
Not early waked in high-roofed Palaces  
When waiting Clients come; though they possess  
No Posts, which Indian shells adorn in state,  
No gold embroidered clothes, Corinthian plate,  
Nor rich Assyrian scarlet; nor abuse  
With sweetest Casia the plain simple use  
Of oil; yet rest secure, a harmless life  
Enriched with several blessings, free from strife,  
Cool caves, dark shady groves, & fountains clear,  
Untroubled sleeps, and cattles lowing there,  
And pleasant hunt want not; there they live  
By labour and small wealth; honour they give  
Unto their gods and parents; justice took  
Her last step there, when she the earth forsook.  
But let the sacred Muse, whose priest I am,  
Me above all with her sweet love inflame;  
Teach me each star, each heavenly motion,  
The oft eclipses of the Sun and Moon,  
The cause of Earthquakes: why the swelling main  
Rises, and falls into itself again:  
Why Winter suns so soon hast to the sea:  
What makes the Summer nights so short to be.  
But if dull blood, which 'bout my heart doth flow,  
These parts of nature will not let me know;  
Then let me (fameless) love the fields and woods,  
The fruitful watered vales, and running floods.  
Those plains, where clear Sperchius' runs, that mount  
Where Spartan Virgins to great Bacchus wont  
To sacrifice, or shady vales that lie  
Under high Haemus, let my dwelling be.  
Happy is he that knows the cause of things!  
That all his fears to due subjection brings,  
Yea fare itself, and greedy Acheron!  
Yea happy sure is he, who ere has known  
The ●urall gods, Sylvanus, and great ●an,  
And all the sister Nymphs! that happy man  
Nor people's voices, nor kings purple move:  
Nor dire ambition sundering brother's love:  
Nor th' Istrian Dacians fierce conspiracies:  
Nor Rome's estate, nor falling monarchies.  
He sees no poor, whose miserable state  
He suffers for; he envies no man's fate;  
He eats such fruits as of their own accord  
The willing grounds, and laden trees afford;  
He sees no wrangling courts, no laws undone  
By sword, nor people's forced election.  
Some search the Seas hid paths, some rush to war,  
In Courts of Kings others attendants are.  
One would his country, and dear gods destroy,  
That he himself might drink in gems, and lie  
On purple beds; another hoards up gold,  
And ever wakes his hidden wealth to hold.  
The pleading bars another doth admire,  
And high applause from every seat desire  
Plebeians, and Patritians; some for goods  
Their guilty hands imbrue in brother's bloods.  
Some from their houses and dear country's room  
In banishment, to seek a foreign home:  
Whilst the industrious husband ploughs the soil,  
And takes the profit of his yearly toil.  
With which his house and country too he serves,  
And feeds his Herds, & th'ox that well deserves▪  
No fruitless time; young cattle still are bred,  
Or Corn is reaped, or fruits are gathered,  
Corn that the surrowes lads, and barns doth fill.  
When Winter comes, Oil in the Olive mill  
They make; and Porkers fat with Acorns grow;  
The Woods yield Crabs but Autumn does bestow  
All kinds of pleasant fruit; the grapes hang by  
Hot sunny walls, and ripen perfectly.  
Mean while his pretty children kissing cull  
His neck: his house is chaste; with Udders full  
His Kine come home; and in the flowery Meads  
His frisking Kids do butt with tender heads.  
He feasts himself upon the grassy ground,  
Whilst 'bout the fire carowling cups are crowned;  
And Bacchus is invoked in sacrifice;  
Then 'mongst his herdsmen makes a darting prize,  
And s●ts the mark upon an Elm; or they  
Prepared for wrestling, their hard limbs display.  
Such lives as this the ancient Sabines led,  
And so were Romulus and Remus bred;  
So grew renowned Tuscany to fame,  
So Rome the greatest of all lands became,  
And in one wall did seven great hills contain.  
And thus before Dictaean love did reign,  
And impious nations on slain cattle fed,  
His life on earth the golden Saturn led▪  
No classicks sounded then, nor mortal blade  
Of swords, the Smith's laborious anvil made.  
But we enough have now produced our course,  
And time it is to ease our wearied horse.  
FINIS.   

Annotations upon the second BOOK.  

CAius (a) Maecenas, that famous cherisher of good learning, to whom our Poet in this place acknowledges so much, was a Gentleman of Etruria, in high favour with Augustas Caesar, and in great employment of State under him. He was in his friendship with learned men, not only bountiful, but judicious in the placing of his bounty, and above all others fortunate in the choice of the men. Among all the Poets, in that wise age wherein he lived, Virgil and Horace were the only two, which I can find, whose mean fortunes needed his liberality, as well as their virtues deserved his acquaintance: how liberal he was, their often acknowledgements in their Works, have testified to the world: how judicious or fortunate he was in those men's acquaintance, no age of the world hath since been ignorant; his name having been generally used for the love of learning, no less than Caesar's for Imperial dignity (though there were, both in that and the following ages, as juvenal witnesseth in his seventh satire, other men of honourable name and esteem in Rome, who were lovers of such things, as Fabius, Cotta, Proculeius, Lentulus, etc.) Those Lords either failed in judgement in the choice of their friends, or the injury of their times afforded them not wits able enough to raise their fames; since we find not any such manifest honour done to their memories as to this Maecenas. whose fortune it was, that Virgil and Horace should live in his time; and in such estates, as to need his bounty for his own honour: which is not a thing incident to every age, though witty Marshal in an Epigram of his could speak thus,  
Sint Mecaenates, non deerunt, Flacce, Marones'. yet the contrary by experience hath oft been found. Maro's have been borne when no Mecaenases have lived to cherish them (as Homer the wonder of posterity, in his own time little esteemed) and Mecaenases have lived and wanted Maro's. What Monarch in the world was ever more desirous of fame in that kind, and more able to requite than Alexander the Great? He that so much honoured the memory of Homer, and at the sacking of Thebes spared all the posterity of the Poet Pindarus, found in his own time no able Poet to celebrate his fame. There were in his time (as Arianus witnesseth in the life of Alexander) many Poets, who would have written of him, and stirred up by the greatness of his actions, or moved with hopes form his known bounty, had written in the praise of him; but such and so poor were their inspirations, they neither deserved the acceptation of Alexander, nor the sight of posterity.   

(b) The Poplar is called the tree of Hercules for this reason, as the Poets fain: When Hercules had entered into Hell, redeemed Theseus from prison there, and returned victorious, leading out Cerberus in triumph after him; the first tree that he espied was a Poplar tree, of which he made himself a Garland, and crowned himself after his new conquest.   

(c) Our Poet, after the description of those several trees of strange natures, which every the several climates of the earth, takes an occasion, by way of comparison, to extol in all kinds the fruitfulness, and withal the happiness of his native Italy, the magnificence of the Italian Cities, the multitude and bravery of her people: Of the populousness of Italy thus Plinius at one place speaketh. This is that Italy, which, when Lucius Aemilius Paulus and Caius Attilius were Consuls upon the fame of the tumult of Gallia, armed presently of her own forces, without the aid of any foreigners, and without mustering of any Italians beyond the river of Po, thirty thousand horsemen, and seventy thousand foot: and Diodorus Siculus speaking of Rome before the second Carthaginian war, says that the Senate as it were foreseeing the coming of Annibal with a war so bloody, took a general survey of themselves and their tributaries, and found the number of men fit to bear arms, to be ten hundred thousand. And speaking also of the populousness of the Island of Sicily, esteemed then as a part of Italy (for it was all called magna Graecia) bids us not wonder at those mighty armies of Ninus, Semiramis, Darius, or Xerxes, since Dionysius the tyrant, out of Syracuse only, armed an hundred and twenty thousand footmen, with twelve thousand horsemen, and a navy of four hundred ships out of one haven.   

(d) The sacrifices, which in ancient times were offered to the gods, were always chosen either for likeness or contrariety: for likeness some were offered, as to Pluto the King of the dark world a black sheep or steer were offered in sacrifice. Others for contrariety and hatred; as a Sow, because she rooteth up land and spoileth corn, was offered unto Ceres: the Goat, because he browzeth the Vines, was offered to Bacchus: the Goat was likewise offered to Aesculapius the god of health, because the Goat is never without a fever.   

(e) In those old plays which the Athenians instituted in the honour of Bacchus, the people danced with wine bottles made of Goat-skinnes, to insult as it were over the Goats after they were dead. Of these Goat-skinnes 〈…〉 in Greek signifieth a 〈…〉 up first the name of Tragaedies.   

(●) These plays were instituted to Bacchus by the Athenians for this reason; Bacchus bestowed a bottle of sweet wine upon Icarus an Athenian Shepherd. This Icarus coming to the company of some other labouring people of the country, set his bottle of wine before them. The plain labourers not knowing the quality of the liquor, but delighted with the sweetness of it, drunk intemperately, and feeling themselves much altered in their brains, and their whole bodies, they killed Icarus, supposing that he had given them poison. The dog of Icarus returning home to Erigone his daughter, conducted her, who followed the dog, unto her father's dead body. Erigone impatient of grief, hanged herself upon a pine tree, and the dog parting not from the two bodies, starved himself: for which piety both Erigone and the dog were taken and made signs in heaven. But not long after, for these murders unrevenged, the Athenians were visited with a great pestilence, and the virgins of Athens were possessed with a strange frenzy, and in their fits hanged themselves. The Oracle, being asked the cause of this pestilence, returned them answer, that it should cease when they in devotion had interred the bodies of Icarus and Erigone, and revenged their murders: this being done, the plague ceased, and the people in honour of Bacchus celebrated yearly plays, and in remembrance of their former frenzy, upon pines or other trees were hanged up the images of virgins.   
FINIS.   

GEORGICON. The third BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
THe art of grazing, with the different cares  
Of different cattle, this third book declares;  
Of warlike Horses, of the labouring Ox,  
Shag-bearded Goats, and snowwhite woolly flocks:  
Their breeding, feeding, profitable use,  
Last their diseases, and the cures it shows.  
But by the way our Poet promising  
This subject done, great Caesar's deeds to sing,  
Makes present mention of them, and declares  
His glorious triumphs, and late finished wars,  
Which Nile, swift Tigris, and Euphrates saw,  
And Crassus' ensigns fetched from Parthia.  
OF thee, great Pales, and Apollo now  
Thou famed Amphrysian Shepherd, and of you  
Arcadian woods & streams I'll sing. Those known  
Old strains, that would have pleased light minds, are grown  
Vulgar; who cannot of Eurysteus fell,  
Or of Busiris bloodstained altars tell?  
Who of Latonian Deal, or Hylas now,  
Or ivory-shouldered Pelops does not know  
For riding famed, or his Hippodame?  
Some new attempted strain must lift up me  
From ground, and spread my fame to every ear.  
I first, returning, to my country dear  
Will from th' Aonian mountain bring with me  
The Muses (live●) and first honour thee  
Mantua, with Idumaean Palms of praise;  
A marble temple in the field I'll raise  
Near to the stream where winding Minclus flow,  
Clothing his banks with tender reeds, doth flow.  
In midst shall Caesar's altar stand; whose power  
Shall guard the Fane; to him I Conqueror  
Will on the shore, with Purple clothed in state,  
Circensian Plays in chariots celebrate.  
All Greece shall gladly celebrate our fames,  
Leaving th' Olympic, and Nemaean games,  
With racing and the whorlebat fight, whilst I  
Crowned with a tender branch of Olive tree  
My offerings bring; Oh how I long to see  
The sacrificing pomp in order ranged  
To th'Temple come, or how the Scene oft changed  
Varies her face: or how the Britons raise  
That purple Curtain which themselves displays.  
About the doors the Indian victory  
Described in gold and polished ivory,  
With great Quirinus' arms shall stand, there showing  
Great Nile with Wars, as well as Waters, flowing;  
And naval Triumphs in brass Pillars cut;  
The conquered Asian Cities there I'll put,  
Niphates, and the Parthian foes, that fight  
Retiring, and direct their shafts in flight.  
Two Trophies ta'en from th'East & Western shore,  
And both those Nations twice triumphed over.  
In Parian marble carved with cunning hand,  
The race of great Assaracus shall stand,  
And Tros, that from high jove their birth derive,  
And Phoebus too, who first did Troy contrive.  
Those wretches, that shall envy this, shall fear  
The Furies dire, Cocytus stood severe,  
And Sisyphus still rolling stone, or feel  
Ixion's wreathed Snakes, or racking Wheel.  
Meanwhile let us follow the Woods, and Lands  
Untouched; such are, Maecenas, thy commands.  
My breast, without thee, no high rapture fills;  
Inspire me then without delay; the hills  
Cithaeron high, of Dogs Taygeta proud,  
And Epire famed for Horses, call aloud.  
Whose noise the echoing Woods redoubled bring.  
After of Caesar's glorious wars I'll sing,  
And through as many ages spread his praise,  
As have already past to ●esar's days.  
Who ere in hope to win th' Olympic prize  
Would keep good Horses, or else exercise  
Strong Steers to plow; best choice from Dams it took.  
That Cow proves best that has the roughest look,  
Great head and neck, and down unto her knee  
Her dangling dewlaps hang; sides long and high:  
All must be great: yea even her feet; her ear  
Under her crooked horns must rough appear.  
I like the colour spotted, partly white;  
Loath to endure the yoke, and apt to fight;  
In all most like the Bull; in stature tall,  
Her sweeping tail down to the ground doth fall.  
Best age to go to bull, or calve, we hold,  
Begins at four, and ends at ten year old.  
All other ages nor for breeding fit,  
Nor strong for plough; but i'th' mean time, whilst yet  
The flocks have lusty youth, let the males go  
Without restraint to Venery, and so  
By timely broods preserve a perfect kind.  
Their first age best all wretched mortals find;  
After diseases, and old age do come,  
Labour, and deaths inexorable doom.  
There still will be, whose bodies with thy will  
Thou wouldst wish changed. Therefore repair them still;  
And lest thy kind quite lost thou find too late  
Prevent the loss, and yearly propagate.  
And such a choice you must in horses make;  
But him, whom you for stallion mean to take,  
As hope of all the race, elect with care  
Even from a tender colt; such colts as are  
Of generous race, strait, when they first are foled,  
Walk proudly, their sost joints scarce knit, & bold  
Da●e lead the way, into the rivers enter,  
And dare themselves on unknown seas to venture.  
Not frighted with vain noises; lofty necked,  
Short headed slender bellied, and broad backed,  
Broad and full breasted; let his colour be  
Bright bay, or grey; white proves not commonly  
Nor flesh-colour. When Wa●s alarumes sound  
His nostrils gather and breathe fire; no ground  
Can hold his shaking ioyn●s; his care advances,  
His thick shagged mane on his right shoulder dances.  
His back bones broad & strong, the hollowed ground  
Trampled beneath his hard round hoof doth sound.  
Such was that horse, which Spartan Pollux tamed  
Fierce Cyllarus, and Mars his horses famed  
By th' old Greek Poets, or those two that drew  
Achille● chariot; such a shape and hew  
At his wives coming, flying Saturn took,  
And all high Pelion with shrill neighings shook.  
Yet when disease or age have brought to nought  
This horse's spirit, let him at home be wrought,  
Nor spa●e his base old age. A Horse grown old  
Though he in vain attempt it oft; is cold  
To Venery, and when he's brought to try  
(Like that great strengthless fire in stubble dry)  
In vain he rages; therefore first 'tis good  
To mark his age, his courage and his brood  
With other arts; how sad a horse will be  
When overcome, how proud of victory.  
Dost thou not see, when through the field in speed  
Two racing chariots from the lists are fled,  
The young men's hearts all rise, as forth they start,  
And fear with joy confounded strikes each hart?  
They give their horse the reins, and lash them on,  
Their hurried wheels enflaming as they run;  
Now low they go, now rise as they would fly  
Through th' empty air, and mount up to the sky:  
No resting, no delay; a sandy cloud  
Darkens the air; they on through shoutings loud  
Of standers by, all sweat and some do fly,  
So great's their love of praise and victory.  
First Erict●●onius chariots did invent,  
And by four horses drawn in triumph went.  
The Peletronian Lapithes first found  
The use of backing horses, taught them bound,  
And run the ring; taught Riders t' exercise  
In martial ranks, both equal mysteries:  
The masters of both these have equal need  
To find out horse of courage, and good speed,  
Though ne'er so nobly born, though oft in game  
They won the prize, and for their country claim  
Epi●e, or famed Mycenae, or else took  
Their birth at first from Neptune tridents stroke.  
These things observed, at covering time, they care  
To make their Stallion strongly fat and fair  
The father of their brood; for him they mow  
Choice grass, sweet streams, & corn to him allow,  
Le●t he should fail his pleasant work to do,  
And th' young ones starvelings from his hunger grow.  
But they of purpose keep the Females light  
And lean: and when they have an appetite  
To Venery, let them not drink nor eat,  
And coarse them oft, and tyre them in the heat,  
When in full Barns the ripe Corn crowded lies,  
And empty chaafe before the West wind flies.  
And this they do lest too much rankness make  
The breeding soil, and fatted furrows take  
Too dull a sense; but that they should draw in  
Seed with desire, and lodge it safe within.  
Now to the Dams our care comes from the Sires:  
They great, when now their time almost expires,  
Let no man yoke them then for work, nor make  
Them leap a ditch, nor let them swimming take  
Swift floods, nor coursed about the meadows be.  
But let them feed in empty fields, where free  
The water is; the banks with moss are stored,  
And rocky caves a cool sweet shade afford.  
About Alburnus still with holly green,  
And Sila●us high woods great Flies are seen  
In Roman termed A●li anciently  
Oestra in Greek, a fierce loud-buzzing Fly;  
Whose terror makes th' affrighted cattle fly  
As chased about the woods, and pierce the sky  
With lowings loud; which through that country round  
The woods, & banks of Tanager resound.  
With this dire Monster once did juno show  
Her vengeful spite against lô than a Cow.  
This ●ly (for most he stings in heat of day)  
From cattle great with young keep thou away,  
Or bring them not abroad to feed alone  
Unless at morn, or after sun is down.  
After the breeding they use all their care  
About the young ones; of what birth they are  
Their marks discover; they design each one  
His several use; one for a Stallion  
Is kept, another ●or a Sacrifice,  
A third for Ploughing, from whose toil arise  
The harvests fruits; the rest a grazing go  
Upon the Verdant fields. But those whom thou  
Intendest for Husbandry, begin to tame  
Their courages while they are Calves, and frame  
Them for the Blow betimes, while yet their rage  
But tender is, and flexible their age.  
Loose Collars first of tender branches make  
For their soft necks; then, when they freely take  
The Yoke by custom, yoke a pair, and so  
Teach them in order and abreast to go.  
And let them first draw empty Wheels, or rake  
The ground but slightly, and small furrows make;  
Then afterwards under a deep-strook Blow  
They'll learn to tug till th' Axletree do bow.  
But to thy yet-untamed Calves allow  
Not only grass, and sea-grass, that doth grow  
In fenny grounds, with willow leaves; but still  
Feed them with corn thyself: and do not fill  
Thy milking pails from th' Udders, as of yore,  
But let them freely suck their mother's store.  
But if thy mind thou more to war do give,  
Or through Jove's wood wouldst racing chariots drive,  
And swiftly pass by Pisa's river side:  
The first task is to make thy horse abide  
To see the Soldier's arms, hear their loud voices,  
The Trumpets sound, and rattling chariots noises,  
And oft within the stable let him hear  
The clashing whip; he ' le more and more appear  
To be delighted with his master's praise,  
And when he strokes his neck, his courage raise.  
When first he 's weaned from sucking let him hear  
These things, and trembling be compelled to wear  
Soft ●alters oft about his head; but when  
His life has seen four Summers, teach him then  
To run the round, in order right to beat  
The ground, and both ways skilfully curvet  
As if he toiled; then let him with his speed  
Challenge the wind, and from all curbing freed▪  
Scour over the champion fields so swift, that there  
The sands no print of his light hoof do bear.  
So when the Scythian gusts and North-east-wind●  
From their cold quarter fiercely blow, and bind  
The dry clouds up: all o'er the waving field  
Corn bows with equal blasts; woods tops do yield  
A murmuring noise: long waves roll to the shore.  
Forth flies the wind, sweeps lands and waters o'er▪  
Thy Horse thus ordered to the races end  
All bloody foamed, victoriously will tend;  
Or else his tamed neck will better bow  
To draw the Belgian chariot; let him grow  
Full fed, when once he 's broken well, nor fear  
His growth; so fed before he 's broke, he'll bear  
Too great a stomach patiently to feel  
The lashing whip, or chew the kerbing steel.  
But no one care doth more their strength improve,  
Than still to keep them from Venereal love,  
(Whether in Horse or Bullocks be thy care)  
Therefore their Bulls they send to Pastures far  
To graze alone, where Rivers are between  
Or Hills, or feed them at full Racks within.  
For the fair Females sight with secret fire  
Consumes their strength, and lessens all desire  
Of feeding in them; her temptations make  
Two stubborn Bulls a combat undertake,  
And with their Horns to try their utmost deeds.  
In the great Wood the beauteous Heifer feeds,  
Whilst they contending with their utmost spite;  
Their wounded bodies laid in blood, do fight.  
Their Horns with fury meet, their bellow round  
Olympus great, and all near woods resound.  
Nor do they after both together feed,  
Far into exile goes the vanquished,  
And there alone in foreign fields bewails  
His sad disgrace, how his proud foe prevails,  
He unrevenged forced to lose his love,  
And from his native Country to remove.  
Then he with care his strength doth exercise;  
Upon the hardest stones all night he lies;  
On roughest leaves, and sharpest herbs he feeds,  
Oft tries himself; with wrathful horns proceeds  
Against the trunks of Trees with furious strokes,  
And with his strength the wind itself provokes.  
Each place beholds the Prologue to his sight.  
But when his strength is recollected quite,  
And well improved, he doth with fury go  
To meet again his not forgotten ●o.  
As when a furious foaming billow rose  
In the midsea, and thence with horror goe●  
To be at the rocky shore, resounding strait,  
And falls no less than with a mountain's weight.  
The Seas low'st part mixed with his highest foams,  
And belched black sand up from the bottom comes.  
Even so all kinds on earth, led by desire,  
Men, Beasts, Fish, painted Fowl to this sweet fire  
With fury run: Love is the same to all.  
The ●urious Lioness no time at all  
Forgetting young ones, through the fields doth roar  
And rage so much, nor ugly Bears do more  
Black slaughters make, nor through the woods more wrack  
Do cruel Boars and furious Tigers make.  
In Libyan deserts 'tis ill wand'ring then.  
See how the Horses joints all tremble, when  
A mere's known scent he through the air doth feel.  
No stripes, no strength of men, no bits of steel,  
No Rocks, nor Dikes, nor Rivers in his way,  
Which roll whole mountains, can his fury stay.  
The stern Sabellian Bore in love doth whet  
His tusks, and dig the earth up with his feet:  
Against a tree he rubs his lusty fide  
Rowzing his bristles with a martial pride.  
What dares the young man do, whom loves strong heat  
Torments within? though storms be ne'er so great,  
He o'er the seas in midst of night dares swim,  
Although the heaven's shower down their spite on him,  
And though the sea-beat rocks resound amain.  
No ●eeping parents can his course restrain,  
Nor that fair Maid whose death his death must prove.  
Why should I speak of spotted ●●nxes love?  
Of Dogs, and cruel Wolves? or show what war  
Faint Deer in love will make? but strangest far  
Is those Mares furious love, which Venus sent,  
When they their Master Glaucus piecemeal rend.  
Love makes them mount over lofty Gargarus,  
And swim the streams of swift Ascanius.  
And when Love's flame their greedy marrows burns  
Most in the spring (for heat then most returns  
To th'bones) upon high rocks they take their places,  
And to the Western wind all turn their faces,  
●uck in the blasts, and (wondrous to be said)  
Grow great with Foal without the Horse's aid.  
Then o'er the rocks and valleys all they run,  
Not to the North, nor to the rising Sun,  
Nor Caurus quarter, nor the South, whence rise  
Black showers, which darken & disturb the skies.  
Hence flows thick poison from the groins of these,  
Which Shepherds truly call Hippomanes,  
Hippomanes, which oft bade stepdame's use,  
And charming words, and baneful herbs infuse.  
But Time irreparable flies away,  
While we too much of every thing would say,  
Let this suffice of Herds: our other care  
Shall woolly Sheep, and shaggy Goats declare.  
This is a task: hence, Shepherds, hope to get  
Your praise: nor am I ignorant how great  
A pain 'twill be in words to hit it right,  
And give such lustre to a subject sleight.  
But me the sweet desire of fame doth bear  
Over Parnassus' hardest ridges, there,  
Where never path nor tract before I saw  
Of former Writers to Castalia.  
Now hallowed Pales in a lofty strain  
I'll sing; but first I counsel to contain  
Your Sheep within soft stalls to feed at home,  
Whilst Winter lasts, till flowery Summer come:  
Bundles of Straw, and B●akes upon the ground  
Strew under them, lest the cold ice should wound  
The tender Cattle, and bring scabs and rots.  
This done, I counsel thee to feed thy Goats  
With arbute trees and streams that freshly run;  
And against the Wind, toward the Winter sun  
Directly to th' Meridian build thy Stalls,  
When now the long-chilling Aquarius falls,  
And lends a moisture to the ending year.  
Let these unto our care be no less dear,  
Nor are they less of use; though ne'er so high  
Milesian fleeces with the purple dye  
Of Tyre be sold. But Goats, if well they thrive,  
Bring young ones ofter, and more Milk do give.  
And still the more the milking Pails are filled,  
The more their swelling Udders still will yield.  
Besides the Beards, grey Skins, and bristly Hair  
Of the Cyniphian Goats the owners shear  
To make their Tents, and clothe poor Mariners.  
They feed on Woods & Mountains tops, on Briers,  
Brambles, and Bushes of the greatest height.  
And of their own accords come home at night,  
Scarce able their swelled Udders to get over  
The Threshold then. For this do thou the more  
Guard them from Ice, and Winter wind (the less  
Themselves perceive mortalities distress)  
Bring them for food sweet Boughs & Osyars cut,  
Nor all the Winter long thy hayricke shut.  
But when fair Summer comes, when West winds blow  
Let both thy ●locks to field a grazing go.  
When first bright Lucifer appears, along  
The yet cool pastures lead them forth, whilst young  
The Morning is, whilst all the Grass is grey,  
And mingled with sweet Dew; that Dew away  
Ta●● by the fourth hours thirsty Sun, when round  
The fields with noise of Grasshoppers resound,  
Led down thy flocks unto the River's brink,  
Or else in wooden Channels make them drink;  
In th' heat of day for shady Valleys look,  
On which some stately, and far spreading Oak  
Sacred to ●ove, or Holly grove do grow,  
Which dark, but sacred Shadows do bestow;  
Then slightly water them again, and let  
Them feed abroad again about Sunset,  
When night to th' air a cooler temper yields,  
And dew refreshing on the Pasture fields  
The Moon bestows, Kings-fishers play on shore,  
And thistles tops are filled with Linnets' store.  
What need I sing of Libyan Shepherds, and  
Their feeding countries, where few houses stand?  
There oft the flocks whole months, both night & day  
Do without stalls along the deserts stray.  
The Libyan Shepherd carries with him ever  
His arms, his Spartan Dog, his Cretan Quiver,  
His House, and Victuals too; provided so  
To Wars far off the Roman Soldiers go,  
When they too heavy laden march, and yet  
Before the Foe expect, encamped get.  
But near Maeotis in cold Scythian lands,  
Where Ister tumbles up his yellow sands,  
Where Rhodope's extended to the North,  
From Stalls they never bring their cattle forth.  
No Herbage cloaths those fields, no leaves appear●  
Upon their naked trees, but far and near,  
The hidden ground with hard frosts evermore,  
And snow seven cubits deep is covered over.  
Cold North-west-winds still freezing blow, nor ere  
Do ●hoe●us beams their pallid darkness clear,  
Not when he rises to his height, nor when  
His ruddy chariot falls in th' Ocean.  
The running streams so hard are freezed there  
The waters back will Cartwheels ironed bear;  
In stead of Ships there Horse, and Wagons run;  
Brass cleaves with cold asunder; clothes put on  
Frieze hard; whole Ponds by Frosts, which never thaw,  
Are turned to solid Ice; they do not draw  
But cut their Wine with Hatchets, and upon  
Their Beards hang Icicles congealed down.  
Mean time perpetual snowing fills the air;  
The cattle die, the Beefs most great and fair  
Are starved in drifts of Snow; whole Herds of Deer  
So far are hid that scarce their horns appear.  
For these they spread no toils, nor hunt they there  
With Dogs, but kill them with a sword or spear,  
While they in vain strive to remove away  
Those hills of Snow, and pitifully bray;  
And home with joyful shouts they bear them then;  
For under ground in deep-digged Caves the men  
Secure, and warmly dwell; the night they turn  
To mirth, and sport, and at one fire do burn  
Whole oaks and elms; and in full bowls they please  
Their tastes with fresh sour juice of services  
In stead of wine; a people rough and bold  
Like these, beneath the Northern Wagons cold  
Do live, which beasts skins warmest furs do wear.  
Bleak Eastern winds still beat upon them there.  
If thou regard their Wool, let them not go  
Where bushes are, where burrs and thistles grow,  
Nor in a grass too rich. Be sure to choose  
Thy flocks with white soft fleeces, but refuse  
That Ram (although the fleece upon his back  
Be ne'er so white) whose only tongue is black,  
Lest he do stain the fleeces of his Lambs  
With spots, but choose another amongst the Rams.  
So with a Snowy fleeced Ram (if we  
Trust fame) did Pa● the god of Arcady  
Deceive thee 〈◊〉, nor didst thou disdain  
Within the Woods to ease a Lover's pain.  
But who so loves their Milk, to them must he store  
With his own hands bring Claver, Trifoly,  
And ●a●test grass, which makes them drink more  
Than else they would, & swells their Udders more,  
And tastes of salt do in their milk remain.  
Some from their Dams the tender Kids restrain,  
And with sharp muzzles bar their sucking quite.  
Their morning meal of milk they press at night:  
That which they milk at night as Sun goes down,  
The Shepherd carries to his market town  
Next morn in Panyers, or with salt bestows,  
And lays it up till Winter colder grows.  
Nor let thy Dogs be thy last care, but feed  
With fattest Whey, as well as Dogs of speed  
Which Spa●ta sends, thy Mastiffs fierce, for ne'er  
Whilst they do guard thy folds, needst thou to fear  
The Wolves invasion, nor the Thief by night,  
Nor Mountainers that do in stealth delight.  
Thou oft with Dog's master o'er the Plains apace  
Wild Asses, Dear, or Hares for pleasure chase,  
Or ●ow●e with their loud yelps the chafed Boar  
From out his rough, and desert Den, or o'er  
The lofty Mountains in delightful view  
A lusty Stag into thy toils pursue.  
But learn to burn within thy sheltering rooms  
Sweet juniper, and with Galbanean gums  
Drive Adders thence; for Vipers, that do fly  
The light, oft under unmoved Stalls do lie,  
Or Snakes, that use within the house for shade,  
Securely lu●k, and like a plague invade  
Thy cattle with their venom; Shepherd take  
A staff or stones with thee, and kill the Snake  
Swellling, and hissing from his threatening throat.  
For though his head into a hole be got,  
His middle twines, his tail, and parts behind  
Lie open, and slowly after other wind.  
As bad's that snake, which in Portuguese Lawns  
Doth live, and his proud neck aloft advance,  
And rolling makes a long, and winding tract.  
His belly's spotted, sealed is his back.  
Whom the spring, when showery southwinds blow,  
When grounds are moist, and rivers overflow  
Lives upon ponds, and banks, and ravening still  
With Frogs, and Fishes his black maw doth fill.  
But when all grounds, yea fens themselves are dry  
And cleft with chinks, upon dry ground is he,  
And rolling then his fiery eyes doth threat  
The fields, and rages, vexed with drought & heat.  
Oh let not me then take sweet sleeps abroad,  
Nor lie secure under the shady wood,  
When he, his skin new cast, his youth renewing:  
Lifts up his head, his tongue threeforked showing  
In heat of day, and through the field doth room  
His eggs or young ones having left at home.  
He teach thee now the signs and causes all  
Of each diseases; On sheep the scab will fall  
When cold raw humours pierce them to the quick,  
Or searching frosts, or sweat unwashed off stick  
Upon their new-shorne skins, or brambles tear  
Their flesh; for that wise Shepherds every where  
Do in sweet Rivers wash their new-shorn flocks:  
The drenched Ram down the stream swimming soaks  
His Fleece, & Skin Or else with oils fat lees  
They 'noint their new-shorn Sheep, & mix with these  
idaean pitch, quick Sulphur, silvers spume,  
Sea Onion, Hellebore, and black Bitume.  
No kind of cure's more full of present hope  
Than with a knife to cut the Ulcer open.  
For else the hidden venom let alone  
Both lives, and grows; whilst making of his moan  
Unto the gods, the idle Shepherd stands,  
And to the wound denies his lancing hands.  
But when a Fever dry shall seize upon  
Their loynts, and pierce into the inmost Bone,  
●Tis best to keep them then from heat, and cut  
That fall swollen Vein at bottom of the foot.  
As the Bisaltian Macedonians do,  
And fierce Gelonians, when they ●ly unto  
High Rhodope, or the Geteses farthest wood,  
And drink their milk mingled with horses blood.  
But where thou seest one Sheep too often lie  
In shade at rest, and crop too lazily  
The tops of grass, or keep aloof from all,  
Or lie along, to feed, or to the stall  
Return home late alone, strait kill that sheep  
Before th' infection through th' whole flock do creep.  
No seas are subject to more tempests still  
Than sheep, are to diseases, which do kill  
Not single ones, but the whole hopeful flock,  
And at one blow rob thee of all they stock.  
Then who has known the Alps, th' Illyrian high  
Castles, and Fields, that by Timavus lie,  
May yet behold after so long, the land  
Lie waste, and Shepherd's dwellings empty stand.  
Here by corruption of the air so strong  
A plague arose, and raged all Autumn long,  
That all wild Beasts, all cattle perished,  
All pasture fields, and ponds were poisoned.  
Nor single was the way to death, but when  
A thirsty fire burnt up their flesh, even then  
Moist humours flowed again, and not at once,  
But by degrees did melt away the bones.  
An Ox that is for the gods service pressed  
In all his trim, and white garlands dressed  
Before the Altar dies, as there he stands  
Preventing the slow sacrificers hands.  
Or if that slain by the Priest's hand ●e fall.  
His entrailes fired yield no flame at all,  
Nor can the Prophets thence give answers good;  
The Knives themselves are scarce distained with blood;  
The sand below with black-filth darkened is.  
Hence the young Calf in richest pasture dies,  
And at full racks his sweetest breath forsakes.  
Kind fawning Dogs grow mad; strong coughing shakes  
The sick shortwinded, pursy Hogs, & pains  
Their stubborn jaws; the conquering Horse disdaine●  
The pleasant streams, & sick forgetteth quite  
His food, and th' honour of a race or fight.  
Oft with his hooves he beats the earth, his ears  
Hang down, his sweat uncertainly appears:  
But cold before his death, his skin is dry,  
And to the touch resisting ruggedly.  
These signs of death you at the first may know:  
But if by time the plague more cruel grow,  
Their eyes are fiery then, their far-drawn breath  
Is with a groan expressed; their flanks beneath  
Stretched with oft sobbing; a black blood doth flow  
Fron out their nostrils; their tongues rugged grow;  
Their jaws grow close & hard; which helped hath been  
By drenching them through a horn with wine  
That drench sometimes has wrought a care alone.  
Sometimes has brought a worse destruction.  
For they refreshed, more fiercely mad have grown,  
And with impatient fury torn their own  
Flesh from their bared bones (so of their foes,  
Of good men better, let the gods dispose)  
The labouring Ox now sweeting at the Blow  
Falls down, and dies, & from his mouth doth flow  
Blood mixed with foam, yielding his latest groan.  
The weeping Ploughman other Ox alone  
Vnyokes, which wails his fellow's death, and now  
Abroad in Field lies the forsaken Blow.  
His mourning mind up shade of lofty woods.  
No flowery meadows, nor clear Crystal floods  
Which o'er the rocks, and through green fields do glide,  
Can comfort now; his bowels on each side  
Consume; his settled eyes unmoved are grown,  
And his unwieldy neck hangs bending down.  
What now avails his ●o●mer fruitful toil?  
That he so often ploughed the fertile soil?  
Besides, no riotous, no costly feast,  
No rich Campanian wine brought his unrest.  
Green leaves and simple herbage was his food,  
His drink clear water from the running flood.  
No cares disturbed his sleep. That time they say  
Within those Regions Oxen wanted they  
For Juno's sacrifice; her chariots than  
By beasts unlike were to the temple drawn.  
Therefore they digged their ground with much ado,  
And with their hands thrust down the seed they sow.  
And o'er the lofry mountains not disdain,  
For want of beasts themselves to draw the wain.  
No wolves do now about the sheepfold spy  
How to assault the flock by treachery;  
A greater sorrow tames the wolves; the Deer●  
And fearful Hearts do wander every where  
Amidst the Dogs, about the houses round.  
The scaly Nation of the sea profound,  
The Fishes, that all ponds and rivers store,  
Float dead, like shipwrecked bodies, to the shore:  
Sea-calves unwonted to fresh rivers fly:  
The water-snakes, with scales up-standing, die:  
The Viper vainly fenced by his hole  
Dies there: the air to every sort of Fowl  
Ungentle grows, who, whilst their flights they take  
High in the air both flight and life forsake.  
Nor does it boor them now to change their food;  
All arts are hurtful, leeches do no good;  
Not learned Chiron, nor Melampus sage.  
The pale Tisiphone with all her rage  
Is to the light from Stygian darkness sent;  
Before her fears, and pale diseases went;  
Her murderous head higher, and higher still  
She daily lifts; each river, bank, and hill,  
The blea●s of sheep, and bullocks lowings fill.  
Now in whole flocks they fall, and heaped on high,  
Even in the stalls the carrioned bodies lie,  
Till men had learned t'interre them under ground  
In dikes; for of their hides no use was found;  
Nor could they roast their flesh, nor wash it clear,  
Nor their disease-corrupted fleeces shear,  
Nor touch the tainted web; for who so ere  
Durst once attempt those hated clothes to wear,  
Hot Carbuncles did on their bodies grow,  
And Lice-engendring sweat did overflow;  
And ere long time in this infection past,  
A red 
* Saint Anthony's fire.  hot swelling all their limbs did waste,  
Finis libri tertij.   

Annotations upon the third BOOK.  

HIppodamia (a) was daughter to Oenoma●s King of the cities of Elis and Pisa. This Oenomaus had horses of wondrous speed (as being begotten by the winds) and admitted suitors to his daughter Hippodamia, upon this condition, that they should run a race in chariots with him: upon him that conquered, he would bestow his daughter; but whom he vanquished, he would kill. When by this cruel means he had killed many that came as suitors to her, and she at last was fall'n in love with Pelops, she corrupted Myrtilus her father's charioteer to let Pelops win, promising him for that favour he should first enjoy her and have her maidenhead. Myrtilus upon this promise put on false wheels upon the chariot of Oenomaus; and when Pelops was conqueror, and obtained the Lady, Myrtilus de●●●ding her promise from her, was by Pelops her husband tumbled down headlong into the sea, which sea from his name hath been since called mare Myrtaeum.   

(●) Augustus Caesar, after Britain was vanquished, employed many of the captiv● Britain's in servile offices about the Theatre: he bestowed also upon those theatres divers flags of rich price, in which were woven his victories and triumphs. These flags were carried by the captive Britons, bearing the history of their own conquest: but sure it is, the Poet in this place names Britain for any other barbarous nation; for Augustus, though he had many triumphs over several barbarous nations, yet never conquered nor triumphed over Britain.   

(c) By the name of Quirinus in this place the Poet meaneth Augustus Caesar, and that not far fetched, nor far from reason, but more for the Emperor's true honour; for Suetonius Tranquillus in the life of Augustus, speaketh thus: Three parties of the people by the Senate's consent offered on a time three names to Octavius; the names of Quirinus, Augustus and Caesar: he fearing lest if he should choose one, he should displease the other two parties, accepted them all: He was first called Quirinus, afterward Caesar, and last of all Augustus; in which name he ever remamed; and Virgil gives him all those names.   

(d) This great flow of war from Nil● 〈◊〉 Poet means when Marcus Antonius, and Cleopatra came down from thence to encounter Augustus Caesar at Actium; 〈◊〉 which war they brought wonderful power: for Marcus Antonius besides the aid of ten Kings, which served him at that time, and all the strength of Cleopatra, had nineteen whole Roman legions, and twelve thousand horsemen: his strength at sea was five hundred sail of fight ships. In this battle they were vanquished by Augustus Caesar.   

(e) After the victory of Actium, Augustus Caesar marched with a great strength towards diverse nations; who easily yielded unto him. The Indians & Scythians (saith Suetonius Tranquillus) hearing of his name only begged his favour. The Parthians themselves yielded without resistance, and their king Phraartes did homage to Augustus, gave him hostages, and delivered back all those Roman ensigns which they before had taken in war from Marcus Crassus, and Marcus Antonius the Triumvir.   

(f) The horses here mentioned, and so famed in Poetry, were these: the horses of Castor and Pollux called Xanthus and Cyllarus: the horses of Mars called Dimos and Phobos: and the horses of Achilles, called Xanthus and Aethon.   

(g) The fable is thus: Saturn was in love with Philyra the daughter of Oceanus and Thetis: she, to avoid the rape, was transformed by her parents into a Mare; upon which Saturn turned himself into a stately Courser, and so enjoyed the Nymph: in which shape also he deceived his wife Ops, who came thither of purpose to find him out, and discover the fact▪ of which con●●ction of Saturn and Phylira, the Poets reported that Chiron the Centaur was borne.   

(h) As the Thessalians were the first of all that ever invented the use of riding on horseback; so Ericthonius was the first that taught posterity the way of joining horses together in Chariots. This Ericthonius was the son of Vulcan, a man of a goodly personage, but deformed only in his feet, which were like the feet of a Serpent. He to hide this deformity, invented Chariots, wherein he might ride, and nothing of him but his upper parts exposed to the view.   

(ay) Peletronium is a town in Thessaly, where the use of taming and riding horses was first found: for on a time when Thessalus the king of that country was much displeased that his Bullocks ran 〈…〉 (for it should seem the horse-fly had stung them) he commanded his men, which waited on him, to run after them, and stop their flight: they being not able to overtake the swiftness of the Bullocks, took up on the sudden a new invention; they mounted themselves upon horses backs, and so with ease overtook and turned them. These men espied by some of the neighbouring people, either as they road swiftly by, or else as their horses bowed down their heads to drink of the river Peneus, gave way to that old fable of the Centaurs: for the people near had an opinion that they were half men and half horses. But the name of Centaur was therefore given them, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, because those men, when first they rods 〈◊〉 horses were driving of Bullocks.   

(k) Potnia is the City, of which Glaucus was, who (as the Poets feigned) despised the sacrifices and service of Venus. The goddess angry with his contempt, sent a madness to possess the Mares which drew his Chariot; who turning upon their Master, tore him to pieces. The cause of this fiction that Venus should send a madness into them, is this: Glaucus to make his Mares the swifter and fuller of mettle, kept them from venery, which made his Mares so furious, that their ungoverned spirit turned to the destruction of their Master.   

(l) Virgil speaking in this place of the plague among cattle, ingeniously supposeth that this was the same time, wherein that famous history of Herodotus was verified. It was the custom for the Votaress or Priest of Argos to ride to the Temple of juno, drawn by two Oxen upon fest●●all 〈◊〉 But when it so befell upon a solemn day that no Oxen could be found to draw her (the plague having consumed the cattle in that country) her two sons Cleobis and Biton put the yokes upon their necks, and drew their mother to the temple. The goddess juno, moved with so great a piety in these two young men, offered their mother that whatsoever she would pray for in her son's behalf, it should be granted. The mother with a pious answer entreated the goddess that whatsoever she knew the most happy for mortal men, she would be pleased to grant unto her sons: the next morning the two young men were both found dead; from whence it was generally concluded that nothing was so happy for a man as to dye.   
FINIS.   

GEORGICON. The fourth BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
THis book describes the Bees industrious state;  
By what chaste wondrous means they propagate  
Their kind, & breed their common progeny.  
Their age, their natures and strange industry;  
Their wars and furious factions; & how they  
By laws of justice govern, and obey  
In their monarchike state. Their maladies,  
And cures; and how to make a swarm of Bees  
When all thy stock is quite consumed to naught.  
Sad Aristaeus by his mother taught  
Binds fast shape-changing Proteus; who alone  
Tells him what caused his Bee's destruction.  
Orpheus bewails his wife; his music's strain  
Charms hell, and brings Eurydice again  
From thence; again fond love loses her quite.  
〈…〉 in endless woe, by night  
〈…〉 torn in Bacchus' sacrifice  
By Thracian dames, whose beds he did despise,  
Taught Aristaeus doth to them ordain  
A sacrifice, and finds his Bees again.  
Aerial Honey next, a gift divine  
I'll sing; Maecenas, grace this piece of mine.  
Admired spectacles of Creatures small,  
Their valiant Captains, and in order all  
Their Nations, Manners, Studies, People, Fight,  
I will describe; nor think the Glory slight,  
Though slight the Subject be, to him, whom ere  
Th' invoked gods, and pleased Apollo hear.  
First for your Hives a fitting station find  
Sheltered from winds rough violence, for wind  
Hinders their carriage; let no Sheep there play,  
Nor frisking Kids the flowery meadows lay,  
Nor wanton Heifers near the hiving place  
Strike off the dew, nor tread the springing grass.  
Let speckled Lizzards thence be far away,  
The Woodpeckers, and other Birds of prey,  
And Progne marked on her stained breast  
With bloody hands; for she to feed her nes●  
Seizes the flying Bees, and thither 〈…〉  
As sweetest food; but near pure 〈…〉  
Green mossy fountains still your Bee-hives place,  
And streams that glide along the Verdant grass,  
Shaded with palms, or spreading olive trees:  
That when new kings draw out their swarming bees,  
And from their combs dismissed in spring they play,  
The neighbouring banks may then invite their stay,  
Cooling their heat, and trees so near the hive  
A green, and shady coverture may give.  
Into the pool, whether it stand, or flow,  
Great stones across, and Willow branches throw  
As bridges for the Bees to stand upon,  
And spread their wings against the Summer sun,  
When strong Eastwindes by chance have scattered them  
In coming home, or drowned them in the stream,  
Let beds of Violets, and wild Betony,  
Green Cinnamon, and fragrant savoury  
Grow round about the spring. But whether you  
To make your hives, trees barks together sow,  
Or hives of limber Osyars woven get;  
Make the mouth narrow, lest the summer's heat  
Dissolve the honey, or cold winter freeze;  
For both extremes alike annoy the Bees.  
Nor i● in vain that they with all their powers  
Daub up each chink with wax, & fill with flowers  
Each breathing hole, and to that end prepare  
A glue more clammy than all birdlime far,  
And Phrygian Ida's pitch; and under ground  
(If fame speak truly) Bees have oft been found  
Breeding in digged caves, and oft been known  
In holes of trees, and hollow p●mice stone.  
But daub thou up the chinky hives with clay,  
To keep them warm, and leaves above them lay.  
near to the hives let no deep waters flow,  
Nor crabs be dressed, nor poisonous yew-trees grow.  
Or where mud standing stinks, or echoes bound  
From hollow rocks with their reflected sound.  
But when bright Sol hath banished Winter chased  
Under the earth, and Summer light hath graced  
The sky again; over the fields, and woods  
They wander strait lightly the brinks of floods  
They sip and taste the purple flowers; from thence  
(What sweetness ere it be that stir their sense)  
Care for their brood, and progeny they take;  
Thence work their wax, and honey clammy make.  
Then when dismissed their hives, up to the sky  
In Summer air thou seest them swarming fly▪  
Wondering to view dark clouds 〈…〉 wind,  
Then mark them well, they go sweet streams to 〈◊〉,  
And leavy bowers; upon this place do thou  
Base honey-●uckles, and beaten mill-●oile strew:  
And round about let tonking brass resound;  
Th●i● farther progress this charmed place wilbound.  
There they will make their stand, or else desire  
Back to their own known lodgings to retire.  
But if they chance to sally out to wars  
(As oft two kings have caused mortal jars)  
The common Bees affections strait are found,  
And trembling hearts to fight: that martial sound  
Of brass checks their delay, and then a voice  
Is heard resembling trumpets winding noise,  
Then strait they muster, spread their glittering wings,  
And with their beaks whet their dead-doing stings.  
Then to the standard royal all repair  
About their king, and loudly buzzing dare  
Their foes t' appear; in weather clear, and fair  
They sally forth: their battles join i' th' air.  
The Welkin's filled with noise; they grapple all,  
And grappling so in clusters head long fall;  
Hail from the winter's sky falls not so fast,  
Nor shaken oaks so thick do shed their mast.  
In midst of th'armies with bright glorious wings,  
And mighty spirits fly the daring kings  
(Though bodies small) resolved not to yield,  
Till one side vanquished have forsook the field.  
Wouldst thou this fight, and furious heat allay?  
A little dust thrown up will part the fray.  
But when both kings drawn home from battle be▪  
Kill him that seems the worst, lest thriftless he  
Do hurt, and let the other reign alone.  
(For of two sorts they are) one fairly known  
By glittering specks of gold, and scales of bright  
But ruddy hue. This fairest to the sight  
Is best: by sloth the other's nasty grown,  
And hangs his large unwieldy belly down.  
Different, as are the kings, the subjects are.  
Some foul and filthy, like the traveller,  
That comes from dusty ways, and dirt doth spit  
From his dry throat: the other goldlike bright.  
With well proportioned spots his limbs are decked  
This is the better brood; from these expect  
Honey at certain seasons of the year  
Most sweet, and yet not sweet alone, but clear,  
And such as Bacchus' hardness will allay.  
But when in th' air the swarms 〈◊〉 random play  
Scorning their combs, forsaking their cold hive;  
Dost thou from this vain sport desire to drive  
Their wand'ring thoughts? not toilsome is the pains,  
Clip but the prince's wings; whilst he remains  
Within, no common Bee will dare to make  
High flight, nor th'ensigns from the camp to take.  
Let Saffron gardens odoriferous,  
Which th' image of Lampsacian Priapus  
Guards with his hook of willow to affright  
Both Thiefs, and hurtful Fowls, the Bees invite.  
Let him himself, which fears his Bees to want,  
Bring Thyme, & Pines down from the hills, to plant,  
Wearing his hands with labour hard, and round  
Bestow a friendly watering on the ground.  
And did I not now near my labours end  
Strike fail, and hasting to the harbour tend,  
Perchance how fruitful gardens may be dressed  
I'd teach, and sing of twice rose-bearing Pest:  
How Succory by waters prospers well,  
On grass how bending Cucumbers do swell,  
And banks of Persley green: beside to show  
How the late blooming Daffodils do grow  
I would not fail, and twigs of Beares-foot slow,  
Shore loving Myrtles, and pale Ivy too.  
For where Tarentum's lofty Turrets stand,  
Where slow Galesus soaks the fallow Land,  
I saw an old Cilician, who possessed  
Few acres of neglected ground undressed,  
Not fit to pasture beasts, nor vines to bear:  
Yet he among the bushes here, and there  
Gathering few potherbs, vervain, li lies white,  
And wholesome poppey, in his minds delight  
Equalled the wealth of Kings, and coming still  
Late home at night, with meat unbought, did fill  
His laden board: he gathered first of all  
Roses in spring, and apples in the fall.  
And when sad winter with extremest cold  
Cracked even the stones, & course of floods did hold  
With bridling ice, he then plucked leaves of soft  
Beares-foot, and checked the springs delay oft,  
And Zephyrs sloth. He therefore first was found  
With fruitful Bees, and swarms still to abound,  
And frothy honey from the combs could squeeze.  
He still had fruitful vines, and linden trees.  
And for each blossom, which first clothed the tree  
An apple ripe in Autumn gathered he.  
He could to order old grown Elms transpose,  
Old pear trees hard, & black thorn bearing sloes,  
The plain tree too, that drinking shade bestows.  
But too much straightened, I must now forsake 〈◊〉  
This task for others afterward to take.  
And now He show those natures, which on Bees  
Great jove himself bestowed: for what strange fees  
Following a tinkling noise, and brazen ring  
In Cretan caves they nourished heavens high King.  
Bees only live in commonwealths, and Bees  
Only in common hold their progenies:  
Live by laws constant, and their own abodes  
Certainly know, and certain household gods:  
And mindful of ensuing winter, they  
Labour in summer, and in public lay  
Up their provision. Some for gathering foods  
Are by the state's commission sent abroad  
To labour in the fields: some still at home  
Lay the foundations of the honey comb  
Of glue, tree-gumme, and fair Narcissus rear:  
Then to the top they fasten every where  
Their clammy wax: care for their brood some take  
(The nations hope): some purest honey make,  
Till th' honey comb with clearest Nectar swells.  
Some lot appoints to stand as sentinels,  
And to foresee the showers, and storms to come  
They watch by turns: those that come laden home  
Some case: or joining all their strengths in one  
Far from the hive they chase the lazy Drone.  
To work they fall: their fragrant honeyes hold  
A sent of Thyme; as when the Cyclops mould  
Jove's thunder from th' hard-yeelding mass in haste,  
Some take and pay again the windy blast  
From bullhide bellowes: others in the lakes  
Do quench the hizzing irons; Aetna shakes  
With weight of anviles: whilst their arms so strong  
In order strike, and with hard-holding tongs  
The iron turn; such inbred thrifty care  
(If little things with great we may compare)  
Each in his function Bees of Athens take.  
The elder keep within the towns, and make  
Daedalian fabrieks to adorn the comb;  
But late return the younger weary home  
Their thighs laden with Thyme: they feed upon  
Wildings, green Willows, Saffron, Cinnamon,  
Pale Hyacinths, and fruitful Linden trees.  
One time of work, and rest have all the Bees.  
Forth in the morn they go, and when late night  
Bids them leave gathering, home they take their slight,  
And there refresh their bodies then a sound,  
And buzzings heard about th'hives confines round.  
But when they all are lodged in silence deep  
They rest, their weary senses charmed by sleep.  
Nor stray they far when clouds o'ercast the skies,  
Nor trust the weather when Eastwindes arise.  
But near their City's short excursions make,  
And safely water, or small pebbles take  
(As in rough seas with sand the Vessels light  
Ballast themselves) to poise their wandering flight.  
But at that wondrous way you must admire  
By which Bees breed: they feel nor Venus' fire,  
Nor are dissolved in lust, nor yet endure  
The pains of childing travel: but from pure  
Sweet flowers, & Herbs their progeny they bring  
Home in their mouths. They all elect their king,  
And little nobles; their wax mansions  
And courts they build; & oft against hardest stones  
They fret their wings, and spoil them as they fly,  
And gladly under their sweet burdens die:  
So great's their love of flowers, ambition too  
They have of making Honey. Therefore though  
Their lives be short (as not above the space  
Of seven years) yet their immortal race  
Remains; the fortunes of their houses hold;  
For many years are grandsires grandsires told.  
Besides not Egypt, nor rich Lydia more,  
Nor Medes, nor Parthians do their kings adore;  
Whilst he's alive, in concord all obey;  
But when he dies, all leagues are broke, and they  
Themselves destroy their gathered food at home,  
And rend the fabric of their honey comb.  
'tis he preserves their works; him all admire,  
And guard his person with a strong desire:  
They carry him, for him they hazard death,  
And think in war they nobly lose their breath.  
Noting these signs, and tokens, some define  
The Bees partakers of a soul divine,  
And heavenly spirit; for the godhead is  
Diffused through earth, through seas, & lofty skies.  
From hence all beasts, men, cattle, all that live,  
All that are borne their subtle souls receive.  
Hither again they are restored, not die,  
But when dissolved, return, and gladly fly  
Up to the stars; in heaven above they live.  
But when thou wouldst open the stately hive,  
And rob their hoarded honey treasury,  
Than first of all throw water silently,  
And with thine hand send in pursuing smoke.  
Twice in the year for honey harvests look:  
First when Taygetes beauteous visage makes  
Earth glad, and th'ocean's scorned floods forsakes:  
Again, when she the Southern fish doth fly,  
To winter seas descending heavily.  
But Bees offended wondrous wrath conceive  
Inspiring venom where they sting, and leave  
Fixed to the veins their undiscerned spear  
Within the wound, themselves expiring there.  
But if thou fear a Winter hard, and make  
Spare for the future time, or pity take  
On their dejected spirits, and fall'n estate:  
Give them cut wax, and thyme suffumigate.  
For oft base Lizzards eat the honey comb,  
And to the hives night-loving Beetles come;  
And Drones, that freely fit at others meat;  
Or with unequal strength fierce Hornets b●ate  
The Bees: or Moths of a dire kind: or close  
About the door her netlike cobwebs lose  
The Pallas-hated Spider spins. The more  
They thus are ruined to repair the store  
Of their lost nation, all their utmost powers  
Themselves do use, and fill their hives with flowers.  
But if their bodies be diseased (as Bees  
By life are subject to our meladies)  
Which may by signs infallible be known;  
The sick strait lose their colour, and are grown  
Deformed with leanness: they in woeful wise  
Bear forth their dead with solemn obsequies.  
Or cloistered else within their houses they  
Sadly contain themselves, or lingering stay  
About the door, in clusters taking hold,  
Famished, and faint, and feeble by the cold.  
Then a sad broken sound, and groaning's herd,  
As winds do murmur in a Forest stirred,  
As seas do roar, the tide by winds opposed,  
Or raging fire within a furnace closed,  
For this of gums a fumigation use,  
And into th● hive in pipes of reed infuse  
Honey, t' invite them to a well-known food;  
With these the taste of beaten galt is good;  
Dried roses too, and thick decocted wine,  
With loose hung clusters from the Psythian vine,  
Cecropian Thyme, strong century; withal  
A flower, which Husbandmen Amello call,  
Most easy to be found, in meadows grows,  
For from one root he spreads a wood of boughs.  
Whose many leaves, although the flower be gold,  
Black Violets dim purple colour hold.  
Whence wreaths have oft the gods hie altars decked.  
Sharp-tasted in the mouth; shepherds collect  
These flowers beside fair Mella's crooked stream,  
On plain unwooded Valleys. Roots of them  
Boil in sweet wine, and set provision store  
In baskets full before the Beehive door.  
But if that any his whole brood of Bees  
Have on the sudden lost, and no way sees  
To raise another stock, I'll now declare  
Th' Arcadian master's old invention rare,  
And from fames first beginning make it plain  
From blood-corrupted of bruised Bullocks slain,  
How Bees have oft been born. For where from old  
The happy people of Canopus' hold,  
Their Country covered with Nile's fruitful flow,  
And o'er their lands in painted Frigates go,  
Near to the bounds of quivered Persia,  
Where Nile returned from black India,  
With slime makes fruitful Egypt's Verdant plain,  
And in seven channels falls into the main,  
All that whole region in this art repose  
A certain remedy. And first they choose  
A little house, which to that end they build,  
Closed in strong walls, guttured, and strongly tiled.  
'Gainst the four quarters of the wind they make  
Four windows lending oblique light; then take  
A tender horned Steere of two years old,  
And stop his breath, his mouth, and nostrils hold,  
Till struggling so with beating killed he fall,  
Through his whole skin his bowels bruised all.  
Then in that narrow room so closely shut  
They leave the body, and beneath it put  
Sweet Thyme, fresh Cinnamon, and other bought,  
When Zephyre first upon the water blows:  
Before the spring with flowers the meadows gild,  
Or twittering Swallows on the rafters build.  
Then th' heated moisture in the tender bones  
Doth boil, and (wondrous to be seen) at once  
So many animals together brings,  
First without feet, after with feet, and wings,  
And take th' air more, and more, till like a shower,  
Which down from Summer clouds doth fiercely pour,  
Or like a storm of Shafts, which Parthians shoot  
Against their Foes, a swarm of Bees break out.  
What god, O Muse, to us this art hath taught?  
What act of man this new experience brought?  
When Aristaeus sad from Tempe fled,  
His Bees by hunger and diseases dead,  
Beside the sacred spring of Peneus  
Plaining he stood, and taxed his mother thus,  
Mother Cyrene, Mother whose abodes  
Are in this flood, why from the line of gods  
(If Phoebus, as thou sayest, my Father be)  
Broughst thou me forth abhorred by destiny?  
Oh whither now is fled a mother's love?  
Why didst thou bid me hope for heaven above?  
When lo those joys, which mortal life did bring,  
Which Bees, and Corns industrious husbanding  
With all my care could but procure, is gone  
Though thou my Mother be. Nay, nay, go on,  
With thine own hand fell off my growing woods,  
My harvests blast, by fire consume my goods,  
My barns, and corn, my spreading vines cut down  
If thou so envious of my praise be grown.  
But from her bower his mother heard the sound  
Under the flood; the Nymphs about her round  
Spun green Milesian wool. Dishevelled hair  
Adorned their ivory necks, Drym● the fair,  
X●ntho, Ligaea, and Phyllodoce,  
Nesae, Spio, and Cymodoce;  
Cydippe, and bright Licorias, one a maid,  
Th' other then first had felt Lucina's aid.  
Clio, and Berôe seaborn sisters both,  
Both girt with gold, in painted mantles both.  
Ephyre, Opis, Deiopcia too  
Of Asia, and Arethusa now  
At last grown swift since she her quiver left.  
To these did Climene tell the pleasing theft,  
And slights of Mars, with Vulcan's bootless fears,  
And from the Chaos numbered do their ears  
The loves of gods. Whilst pleased with what she told  
The rocks of wool they on their spindle's rolled.  
Again the plaints of Arislaeu● pierced  
His mother's care; but Arethusa first  
Of all the Nymphs above the water showed  
Her beauteous head, and far off cried aloud  
Sister, Cyrene, 'twas no causeless fear  
That sound procured; thine Aristaeus dear  
Weeping beside old Peneus stream remains,  
And of thy cruelty by name complains.  
Struck with new fears his mother answered thus:  
Bring him (quoth she) bring him along to us.  
He may of right enter the roof of gods.  
Then by command she strait divides the floods  
To make him ●oome to pass: the swelling flood  
Like a steep mountain round about him stood:  
In that vast gulf received he was conveyed  
Down under ground, and wondering there surveyed  
His mother's watery bower, lakes closely held  
In cave●, and sounding woods, and there beheld  
(Astonished to hear that horrid sound  
That waters motion made) how under ground  
In several places rivers did commence,  
phasis, and Lycus, and the spring, from whence  
The deep Enipeus breaks, whence Tiber is,  
Mysian Caicus, stony Hypanis,  
And Annio, golden Eridanus  
With bull-like horns; no stream more furious  
Doth run, nor falls more violent than he  
Into the purple Adriaticke sea.  
When to his mother's bower of pumice stone  
He came, and she perceived his causeless moan:  
The Nymphs clear water, and fine towels bring  
To cleanse his hands with, some replenishing  
The cups, while some the feasting tables fill,  
With frankincense the altars smoking still.  
Here take these cups of wine (his mother said)  
Let's sacrifice to th'Ocean; than she prayed  
Unto Oceanus, father of all things,  
And Nymphs her sisters, who the woods, & springs  
By hundreds keep. Thrice on the fire she threw  
Nectar: to th' roof the flame thrice upward flew.  
Confirmed with this Omen thus begun  
Cyrene; in Carpathian seas, my son,  
Great Neptune's Prophet ●roteus abides,  
Who o'er the Main in his blue chariot rides  
By horse-fish drawn; who now again resorts  
To his Pallene, and th' Aemathian ports:  
Him aged Nereus, and we Nymphs adore;  
For he knows all things, things that heretofore  
Have been, that are, and shall hereafter be.  
For so to Neptune it seemed good, that he  
His herds of fish might under water guide,  
And great Sea-calves. He must in chains be tied  
By thee, my son, to show the cause thy Bees  
Are dead, and give thee prosperous remedies.  
Without compulsion he will nothing tell,  
Nor can entreaties move him; bind him well,  
And hard, and all his tricks will vanish soon.  
When ●ol is mounted to his height at noon,  
When grass is d●y, and cattle seek the shade,  
I'll bring thee thither, where thou shalt invade  
The aged Prophet, when his private sleep  
He takes, retired weary from the deep.  
But when thou bindest him, to delude thine eyes,  
In several shapes he will himself disguise,  
A scaly Dragon, or fierce Tiger he,  
Or Bore, or tawny Lioness will be,  
Or take the noise, and show of fire to scape,  
Or slide away in liquid waters shape.  
But, son, the more in shapes he varyes still,  
Be sure the harder hold thy cords, until  
Changed from those figures, that first shape he keep,  
In which thou saw'st him lying down to sleep.  
This said, she anoints the body of her son,  
With sweet Ambrosian odours; whence anon  
An heavenly air exhaled from his head,  
And able vigour through his limbs was spread.  
Within an eaten Mountains hollow side  
Is a vast cave, where water driven by tide  
Doth into turning guifes itself divide,  
An harbour safe to storme-tost Mariners:  
Within blue Pro●eus under stony bars  
Shut up, and guarded lies. Here far from sight  
In a dark nook averted from the light  
Cyrene placed her son; herself away  
Vanished obscured in clouds. At noon of day,  
When now the scorching dog-star from the sky  
The thirsty indians burned, the grass was dry,  
And the sunbeams as low as to the ground  
Boiled lukewarm rivers, though the most profound.  
Proteus' from sea to this accustomed ground  
Retires himself; the scaly Nation round  
Playing about him, fa● salt dew do throw;  
The Calves on shore do severally bestow  
Themselves to sleep, whilst he upon a rock  
Amidst them fi●s, and numbers all the flock,  
Like to an Herd, when from the mountains home  
Unto their stalls his Calves from feeding come,  
And wolves are whetted with the lambs loud bleats.  
When Aristaeus this occasion gets,  
Scarce suffering the old Prophet to compose  
His weary limbs, in with a shout he goes  
Upon him strait, and binds him as he lies.  
He not unmindful of his old devise  
All his strange shapes assumes in order over,  
A flaming fire, a flood, a tusked boar.  
But when no cunning could procure his escape,  
Vanquished at last, in his own humane shape  
He speaks; Who sent thee hither to my cave  
Thou bold young man? or here what wouldst thou have?  
Thou know'st my mind, Proteus thou know'st (quoth he)  
Intent it not, thou canst not co●sen me.  
Following the gods command, hither come I  
For my lost goods to seek a remedy.  
When thus he spoke, the Prophet much compelled,  
Scowling with his green eyes, with anger swelled,  
And cha●ing thus at last 'gan prophesy:  
The wrath of some great god doth follow thee  
For great misdeeds. To thee this punishment  
(Though not so great as thou deservest) is sent  
From wretched Orpheus, unless fares resist,  
Who still in wrath for his dear wife persists.  
When from thy lust she fled, the never spied  
A watersnake, by whose fell s●ing she died,  
Lurking upon the graslie bank: But all  
The Dryads at her sad funeral  
Wept on the mountains, high Pangaea, and  
The Rodepeian tower●, and warlike land  
Of Rhaesus, Hebrus, and the Geteses for woe  
Wept, and Athenian Orythia too.  
But he himself his sick soul solacing,  
Oft to his warbling instrument would sing  
Of thee, sweet wife; thou on the shore alone  
Morning and night wert subject his moan▪  
He through the dark, & fearful wood did venture,  
〈◊〉, laws, and plutoes cave to enter,  
And to the Ghosts, and their grim king he went,  
Hearts that to humane prayers did ne'er relent.  
But from all parts of hell the ghosts, and throng  
Of liveless shadows moved by his song  
Came forth, as many thousands, as a flight  
Of little birds into the woods, whom night,  
Or showers approaching thither drive in shoals,  
The ghosts of men and women, the great souls  
Of Heroes, Virgins, and of Boys were there,  
And Youths, that tombed before their parents were▪  
Whom foul Cocytus' reedlesse banks enclose,  
And that black muddy pool, that never flows,  
And Styx nine times about it rowles his waves.  
But all hells in most vaults, and torturing caves  
Amazed stood; th' Eumenideses forbear  
To menace now with their blue snaky harry:  
Three-mouthed Cerberus to bark refrains:  
Ixion's racking wheel unmoved remains.  
Now coming back all dangers past had he,  
Behind him followed his Eurydice  
Restored to life (for this condition  
Proserpina had made) when lo anon  
Forgetful love a sudden frenzy wrought,  
Yet to be pardoned, could Fie●ds pardon aught.  
near to the light (alas) forgetful he  
Lovesick, looked back on his Eurydice.  
That action frustrates all the pains he took,  
The ruthless tyrant's covenant is broke,  
And thrice Avernus' horrid lake resounds.  
Orpheus (quoth she) what madness thus confounded  
Thy wretched self, and me? stern fate's surprie  
Me back again; deaths slumbers close mine eyes.  
Farewell; thus hurried in black night I go;  
This said, her aery hands she lifts, and so  
As smoke sleetes into air, she vanished there  
(Now his no more) and left him clasping th' air▪  
Offering replies in vain: nor more alas  
Would churlish Charon suffer him to pass.  
What should he do his wife twice lost? how move  
The Fiends with tears, with prayers the gods aboven  
His wife now cold was ferried thence away  
In Charon's boat. But he seven months (they say)  
Weeping beside forsaken Strymons waves  
Under the cold, and solitary caves  
To ruthless rocks did his mishaps lament,  
That trees were moved, and Tigers did re●ent.  
As Phi●omel in shady Poplar tree  
Wailing her young ones loss, whom cruelly  
A watching Husbandman, ere fledge for flight,  
Took from her nest. She spends in grief the night,  
And from a bough sings forth her sorrow there  
With sad complaints filling the places near.  
No Venus now, nor Hymenaean rites  
Could move his mind; wand'ring in woeful plights  
Where on Riphaean fields frost ever lies,  
o'er Scythian ice, and snowy Tanais,  
He there complained of Pluto's bootless Boon,  
And how how again Eurydice was gone▪  
The Thracian Dames, whose beds he did despise,  
Raging in Bacchus' nightly sacrifice,  
Scattered him piecemeal o'er the fields abroad.  
Yet then when swift Ocagrian Hebrus flood  
Carried the head torn from the neck along,  
Eurydice his cold, and dying tongue,  
Ah poor Eurydice did still resound.  
Eurydice the banks did Echo round.  
Thus Proteus spoke, and leapt into the Main,  
And where he leapt, beneath his head again  
The foaming waters rose in bubbles round.  
Fearless Cyrene with this cheatfull sound  
Comforts her son; Banish sad cares, my son:  
This, this did cause thy Bees destruction:  
For this the Nymphs, which in the woods did play.  
And dance with her, have ta'en thy Bees away.  
Bring thou thy offerings humbly, beg thy peace,  
And there adore the easy Dryads;  
For they will pardon, and their wrath remit.  
I'll teach thee first what way of praying fit:  
Choo●e out four lusty Bulls well shaped, and fed,  
Which on thy green Lycaeus' top are bred,  
As many Heifers, which ne'er yoke did bear;  
To these four altars in the temple rear;  
And from their throats let out the sacred blood,  
And leave their bodies in the leavy wood  
When the ninth morning after shall arise,  
Let●aean poppy t' Orph●us sacrifice,  
Kill a black sheep, and th' wood again go see.  
With a slain Calf appease Eurydice.  
Without delay he doth what ●he directs,  
Comes to the temples, th' altars there erects.  
Four ●usty Bulls well shaped, and fed he took;  
As many as Heifers, that ne'er bore the yoke:  
When the ninth morning after did arise,  
To Orpheus he performed his sacrifice,  
And came to th' wood, when lo (strange to be told)  
A ●udden wonder they did there behold:  
Bees buzzed within the Bullocks putrified  
Bowels, and issued out their broken sides,  
Making great clouds in th' air, and taking trees  
Like grapes in clusters, hung whole swarms of bee●  
This I of Tillage, Trees, and Cattles care  
Have sung, whilst mighty Caesar in his war,  
Thundering by great Euphrates doth impose  
Laws on the conquered Parthians, and goes  
The way to heaven. Then sweet Parthenope  
Happy in peaceful stydies nourished me,  
Who Shepherds lays, and, Tytirus, thee young  
Under the broad beech covert boldly sung.  
FINIS.   

Annotations upon the fourth BOOK.  

(1) VIrgil in this fourth Book, lest any business of a country life should be wanting in his Georgics, begins here the discourse of Bees; a subject (though small) ●et, as one observes, written of by many the ablest Authors, and in different manner. Aristotle first in his book entitled, De historia animalium, had written with much subtlety, and depth concerning the Bees nature. Amongst the Latins, Varro in a discourse wondrous for the brevity, hath written fully of them. junius Higinius with diligence, and walking, as it were, in a spacious field hath at large discoursed of the nature of Bees: he omitteth nothing which the ancient Poets have pleasantly fabled of that subject. Cornelius Celsus in an elegant and facetious style hath made illustration of it, Columella, moderately, and only (as himself confesses) because it is a part of that subject, which he had before began; with no great ardour hath expressed it. And lest it should only be written in prose, our Poet in this place in most elegant Verse, inferior to none that ever was, entreateth of this small subject.   

(b) The King of the Bees (saith one) it usually spotted more than the rest, and of a form more fair and beautiful. He is twice as big as the common Bees; his wings are shorter than theirs, but his legs are straighter and longer; so that his walking up and down she h●●e is more lofty and full of majesty. Upon his forehead is a bright spot glittering in manner of a d●ad● me. He wants a sting, armed with nothing but majesty, and a wondrous obedience of the other Bees to him. When ever he goes forth, the whole swarm ●aite about him, guard him, and suffer him not to be seen. When the common Bees are 〈◊〉 their work, he walks to take survey of ●hem, he himself only being free from labour. About him still are his guards and officers, those strength he uses in punishing the idle and slothful Bees. But others are of opinion (who deny the generation of bees without ●span) that this great Bee, called the King, 〈◊〉 the only male in the hive, without whose company there can be no generation at all: and therefore that all the other bees do perpetually flocke, and throng about him, not ●ith respect as to a Prince, but desire as to a Male.   

(c) It was, as most know, an ancient fable, that Saturn the husband of Ops, and father of jupiter was accustomed to devour his own children when they were brought forth (the reason of it, was, because Saturn was named the god of time, and all times passing and returning revolve again into themselves) which gave occasion to this history; when jupiter was borne, his mother Ops fearing the cruelty of her husband to him, concealed his birth, and the Cretans for fear that Saturn should hear the childery, rung their brazen pans and kettles; which noise the bees following came to the place where the infant was, and said him there with honey: jupiter for so great a benefit, bestowed on his nurses for a reward this admirable gift, that they should have young ones, and continue their kind without wasting themselves in Venery. Others report, that jupiter being much in love with a fair Nymph called Melissa, turned her into a bee, and for her sake bestowed privileges upon the bees.   

(d) The place where bees first were, is doubted of; some report it was Crete, where those were which nourished jupiter; others say they were first seen in Thessaly in the time of the reign of Aristaeus there; others make Hymetta, a sweet hill near Athens, the place; others Hybla an hill in Sicily: all which places are by Poets famed for nourishing of bees.   

Mane ruunt (e) A most admirable discipline, if it may be credited: as soon as morning appears, one be, whose office it is, goes about the hive, and with three or four loud buzzes, in stead of a bell or trumpet, awakens them from sleep; upon whose warning, they all arise, and fly abroad unto their labour of gathering honey, or other employments; when evening returns again, and they come home laden with honey; after some short respite, the same be, or some other in his turn, with the like buzz commandeth them all to rest (after the manner of Cities) except such as are appointed to watch and ward.   

(f) This history of Aristaeus the son of Apollo, and the Nymph Cyrene (before mentioned) the first finder of the use of bees, was not intended by the Poet to be here inserted; this part of the book was all compiled in honour of Cornelius Gallus a Roman Gentleman, the first Governor of Egypt under Augustus Caesar (when Caesar after the death of Cleopatra had turned the kingdom of Egypt into a Province). This Gallus was himself a famous Poet (though only fragments remain of him) much beloved of the rest of the Poets, and honoured by Virgil in his bucolics. But when afterward he fell into a conspiracy against Augustus, or, as some report it, accused for abusing the Province, which he governed, he was condemned, and put to death; and Virgil by the command of Caesar, altered the half of his fourth book, and from the praise of Cornelius Gallus turned it to the history of Aristaeus. The story is plain, as the Poet has here related it; Aristaeus in lust desiring to ravish Eurydice the wife of Orpheus, and she in her flight from him, being stung with a serpent, and so killed; Aristaeus for his offence was punished with the loss of all his stock, in which he was richer than any of thosetimes, etc.   

(g) In this fable of Proteus, Virgil imitateth Homer altogether; or rather borroweth, where in his Odysseys Proteus giveth Menelaus instruction: but the history of Proteus is thus reported by Herodotus in his Euterpe; Proteus was King of Egypt at that time when Paris having raped Helena, was driven with her by a tempest into Egypt. (for when Troy was sacked Helena could not be found there) But Menelaus after the wars of Troy sailed into Egypt, and there being with great courtesy entertained by Proteus, he received his wife Helena again. Some report, that Proteus being borne in Egypt fled from the tyranny of cruel Busiris, and came into Thessalia: but others (of whose opinion it should seem our Poet is) say, that he was borne at Pal●ene a City of Thessalia; and sailing into Egypt lived for a time there; but afterwards returned again into Thessalia his native country.   

(h) Of this fable that Proteus before he was bound, and barred from all his deluding shapes, could never prophesy, some have made a physical construction; for every man has in himself lust, folly, cruelty and deceit; which, as long as they reign uncontrolled in him, his nobler part, which is nearer to the divinity, that is his wisdom, doth not appear, nor cannot exercise her function, until all those are bound; that is, till a man be freed from those vices. From whence he concludeth, that this Priest could not prophesy, nor receive the divinity into him, until all these, that is, his fiery lust, his brutish cruelty, his wavering lightness of mind, (like fleeting water) were all bound, and had ceased in him.   
FINIS.