THE BUCOLICS OF BAPTIST MANTUAN IN TEN ECLOGUES.  
Translated out of Latin into ENGLISH, BY THO: HARVEY Gent.  Hor. de Art. Poet. 
Nec verbum Verbo curabis reddere—  
LONDON, Printed for Humphrey Moseley, and are to be sold at his Shop at the Prince's Arms in S. Paul's Churchyard. 1656.   

TO The most Accomplished and Incomparable, The LADY URANIA, Divinest of the Nine Sisters The MUSES.  
Exquisite Lady,  
WHose singular Perfections are sublimed beyond your Sex; Because the Dedication of Books is almost out of fashion with us (Augustus and Moecenae being long since extinct) and few favourers of Learning (especially divine Poesy) surviving, except your noble self, I have presumed to dedicate to your hand and Patronage, the Version of those Juvenalia, composed by the (women-displeasing) Poet Mantuan, and by him disposed into Ten Eclogues. And although (perhaps) I might have found some eminent Ladies for my Patronesses nearer home, yet very few I doubt (scarce one of a thousand) but would have conceived themselves so deeply concerned in the fourth Eclogue, that these my labours must have despaired of any benign aspect from them. But your Excellent self (inhabiting another Region, soaring on the top of Parnassus, and rarified with the Sovereign Influence of that perfumed Air) is so free from Passion, clear in Judgement, and candid in Censure, that I nothing doubt of your Acceptance, Protection and Pardon. To you therefore (my tutelary Patroness) I dedicate these my Labours, which under your Name and Patronage shall be transmitted unto the courteous acceptance of the benevolent Reader,  
BY Your La: most humble Servant, Tho: Harvey.   

TO THE LEARNED AND JUDICIOUS, Sir Marmaduke Lloyd KNIGHT.  
SIR,  
IT was mine hap (rather happiness) not long since to present you with the Poet Mantuan accoutred in his own weeds and language. I than told you my desire to render him in English: It is now done; and represented to your judicious view: Whence it is derived to the Reader,  
BY Your humble Servant, Tho: Harvey.   

TO THE READER in general.  
Generous Reader,  
I Here present to thy perusal the Ten Eclogues of the Poet Mantuan; wherein are many remarkable passages, as well Divine as Moral, not found (perhaps) in any other Author of this kind: All which I leave unto thy judicious observation in reading over the Book itself. For I love not to prejudice the matter by a too tedious Epistle, which dulls the appetite, and defers expectance: Both which I dislike in myself and others. Yet at present, for avoiding of violent Censures and virulent aspersions, which some women (not half so candid as many of their Sex) might perhaps blur me with for this my labour; give me leave (for this once only to enlarge myself a little by way of Apology, That in some sort I may vindicate the Author and myself (his Interpreter) for being so (seeming) Satirically invective against that Sex in the fourth Eclogue. For I would not that either of us should be mistaken: Because I (charitably) suppose, that the Author did not thunder out those Epithets in that Eclogue against All women in general, but against Ill women in particular. Howsoever, for mine own part, I clearly declare, That I publish this Version of these Eclogues, with this animadversion to the Reader, That I do it neither invectively against, nor with prejudice to any woman whatsoever, (for I honour the Sex.) But I could not dismember the Book, by leaving out that fourth Eclogue; neither was it necessary I should: For I am confident, That no discreet or virtuous woman will frown upon me or it. And if any other should, I thus answer for myself. That I intent not All, but Ill women. And as Contraries compared are more illustrated; so the dispraise of a vicious woman is a praise to the virtuous. That insatiable prostitution of Faustina did, and doth with greater lustre exemplify the chastity of Lucretia. But if any self-willed woman be displeased hereat, I wish, That she would first reform herself (and then she is none of the number intended by the Poet) before she censure the Author or me: Otherwise she concludes herself one of the Poet's Catalogue. And having thus (with what convenient succinctness I could) apologized for us both, I commend the Book to thy reading and civil acceptation, submitting it to thy benevolent and candid construction: Subscribing also myself to be  
Thy well-wishing friend, Tho: Harvey.   

TO The Candid and Intelligent Women Readers.  
LADIES,  
THat rather unto Women, then to Men  
I dedicate these issues of my Pen,  
I must Apologise ere I begin,  
For Féeminines are most concerned therein;  
Their Loves, their Passions, their Infirmities  
Too much disclosed to supercilious eyes.  
Yet (Ladies) be not angry, nor the Book  
With Prejudice or Passion overlook.  
There's something in it worth your best regard;  
All Women are not censured by the Bard,  
Ill Women only: These illustre those,  
As Foils the Diamonds, or as Thorns the Rose.  
The honourer of your Virtues, Tho: Harvey.   

THE ECLOGUES OF BAPTIST MANTUAN  Englished by Tho: Harvey. 

ECLOGUE I. Treating of honest Love and its happy success Entitled FAUSTUS.  
The Argument.  
Here Fortunatus doth desire  
To talk of Love: his reasons why.  
Faustus assents; declares his fire,  
His Bride and Epithalamy.  The Speakers Fortunatus and Faustus. Fo. 
I Pray thee Faustus, while the  chew  
In the cool shade their cud; let us review  
Our former loves? lest idle while we stay,  
Or fall asleep, some cruel beasts of prey  
Amid the ripened Corn that slily creep  
Seize on our : better wake than sleep.  Faust. 
This place, this tree where-under we reside,  
Well knows what cares me grieved, what sires me fried,  
Three years, or (as I take it) four years past.  
But sigh thou pleasest, sigh thou leisure hast,  
From the beginning (here while we repose)  
The Matter and the Manner I'll disclose.  
Here on these Plains while I my  fed,  
When first Loves flames assailed mine heart-mine head,  
Upon my Coat outspread (full many a day)  
Cast careless on the ground I cureless lay,  
With sighs and tears my sad— sad fates recounting,  
No rest to me, no labour sweet amounting;  
Dull were my Senses in my senseless breast,  
My restless mind was buried in unrest.  
Like sick men's stomaches, whose dull appetite  
No Cates to feed, no delicates invite:  
My Poesy deceased, no Pipe of mine  
Sounded at all; I did my Bow decline:  
My Sling was hateful, hateful were my Dogs,  
Hateful was Fowling, Nutting; All were clogs.  
To wove a twiggen Basket, or with Hook  
To catch the Fish, or Sparrows nests to look,  
To wrestle, or with fingers up to sport  
At Odd or Even (ah) I cared not for't,  
Though pleasing one, while I (my self above)  
Was uninfected with this sickness, Love.  
But irksome are those sports which pleased of late;  
To gather Strawberries and Grapes, I hate.  
Like Philomela I mourned, when she with food  
Returning in her beak to feed her brood,  
Finds robbed her Nest, and emptied of her young;  
Which seeing, she (poor wretch) with sorrow stung  
Let's fall the meat, and sits (as if forlorn)  
Right o'er against her Nest upon some Thorn;  
Where, in sad tunes and melancholy tones  
Her hapless self, her Mate and young bemoans.  
Or as when some fair Heifer is bereft  
Of her first Calf (which in a Brake she left)  
When, after she hath ranged the groves, the grounds,  
Making them all re echo with the sounds  
Of her loud lowing; down she sits alone  
In some sad shape at last, and gives a groan,  
Careless of food, sitting as if forsaken,  
Nor eating grass, nor drinking of the brook.  
But why with vain circuities am I  
So long, so tedious? sigh I lose thereby  
My words, my time, while here and there I glance,  
Leaving the Substance for the Circumstance.  
The sum is this: I lived against my will.  
Now the particulars of this mine ill,  
If thou perhaps wouldst know, thou then mayst say't,  
What wind (O Faustus) drove thee to this strait?  
My Galla me (for I'll confess the truth  
To thee my Fortunatus, dearest youth)  
My Galla me with her serener shine,  
With her most sweet aspect so did intwine,  
So did entangle, as the Spider draws  
The captived Fly surrounded in her claws.  
For her fair face was ruddy, plump and round:  
And though one eye did seem almost unsound;  
Yet while I did admire her face, her years,  
I said, Diana's beauty lacked of hers.  Fo. 
Love mocks the Senses, blinds our eyes, beguiles  
Our Souls, befools us with bewitching wiles.  
I think some Devil, creeping in our veins,  
Inflames our hearts, and sets on sire our reins,  
Our minds unhingeth, and our thoughts distracts.  
Nor is this Love (which thus these things transacts)  
A God, as some affirm: I rather guess  
It is an Error, and a bitterness.  Fa. 
Add, that I hopeless was t'enjoy my Love,  
Though she compassionate and kind did prove;  
Though she with signs and glances of her eyes  
Expressed her love with mine to sympathise.  
For always wheresoever she went, there went  
Her married Sister, spy-like always sent;  
Her crabbed Mother followed: Thus our fires  
Were still opposed with opposite desires;  
Like Cat and Rat: This seeks for meat, and that  
Quick sighted guards the chinks to catch the Rat.  Fo. 
Full bellies Fasts commend; and those are worst  
Unto the thirsty, that endure no thirst.  Fa. 
'Twas Harvest; and full time with crooked hook  
To reap the Corn, the fields did yellow look  
With ripened Barley: Then (as 'twas their use)  
My Galla's Mother did herself produce  
With her two Daughters, here and there to glean  
What Corn the Reapers had not gathered clean.  
For or her Mother knew not of our flame,  
Or did dissemble that she knew the same.  
I think she did dissemble: For she knew  
(Though from her sight my tokens I withdrew)  
I gave her Daughter (her good will to get)  
A pair of Pigeons, and a Leveret.  Fo. 
'Tis only poverty that doth oppose  
Good natures and good manners: These and those  
It shames; 'tis too propense for any vice,  
And doth to wickedness, to sins entice.  Fa. 
The Maid was gleaning Corn; and, as before,  
The more I went, she followed me the more.  
Her feet were bare, her bosom loosely dressed,  
Her arms half naked, and in all the rest,  
Befitting Summers' heat she was clad;  
Green boughs in wreath upon her head she had  
To shade her from the Sun, lest burned thereby  
Her face should less delight a Lover's eye.  
Now close behind me, sometimes near my side  
She gleaned the Corn, I did of purpose slide.  
A woman can nor conquer, nor defer,  
Nor hid her love; such levity's in her.  Fo. 
All Lovers have their levity; nor have  
This frailty women only, but the grave,  
The great, the wise, they that would seem t'excel  
All other mortals, have this fault as well.  
They that are clad with Robes of Tyrian dye,  
That walk in State, in Kinglike Majesty.  
Affected so thou wast then her more mad,  
Perhaps more light: The Maid (no doubt) was glad  
To glean the Corn was given her; but thou  
Didd'st give the Corn: Speak, who was maddest now?  
But on. I must my turn in talking keep,  
Lest peradventure else I fall asleep.  Fa. 
When us her peevish Mother did behold,  
She took it ill, and thus began to scold;  
Now whither go'st thou? why dost wander from  
Thy company? Come hither Galla, come.  
Here near these Alders is a cooling shade,  
The milder air here gently doth invade  
The trembling leaves with murmurs (pleasing prate)  
Here gentle gales refresh, refrigerate.  
O hateful voice unto mine ears (said I)  
Go, go ye strongest winds that swiftest fly,  
Go with a mischief, and that voice disperse;  
If any Shepherd be so much averse,  
As when his Sheep to pasture forth he leads,  
He would not suffer them to graze the Meads:  
Or fed, should drive them to the River's brink,  
And then deny their thirsty mouths to drink;  
Would not, O would not you that Shepherd call  
Hardhearted, merciless, unnatural?  
That voice seemed worse to me, than when in ire  
Jove rattles out his Thunders mixed with fire;  
Or as when angry with our Earth, the Skies  
Pour Cataracts of Waters from their eyes.  
I could not choose, though loath I was to frown:  
The Maid her vail from under (which hung down  
Over her eye brows) me beheld the while,  
And glanced upon me with a pleasing smile.  
Which when her pettish Mother did yken,  
She Calla called, Galla she called again.  
But on her gleaning, Galla more intent,  
Heeds not her words: And as I forward went  
She followed, as by steps, so by desire;  
I careful then to set her spark on fire,  
(For subtle Love with cunning Compliments  
Vents fine deceits, and pretty frauds invents)  
By singing now, and then with hollowing  
Cheering the Reapers, I concealed the thing,  
That Mother both, and Sister therewithal  
Might think that Galla did not hear their call.  
I put the Thorns aside, lest they should meet  
The Maidens naked legs, and tender feet.  Fo. 
All Lovers are enslaved, and captived all,  
With yielding necks they bear the yoke of thrall:  
Their backs bear sharp-sweet stripes, and such as prick,  
Oxe-like they draw the Plough, yet never kick.  Fa. 
I see thou then hast something known of Love.  Fo. 
O 'tis a Common evil, it doth move  
In every sphere; the wisest man that is  
One time or other hath been mad in this.  Fo. 
This then so bad a good, so sweet a sour  
Increased more cruel every day and hour,  
Like Titan's scorching heat till noon be past.  
At length I pallid looked like one aghast,  
Like a Lymphatic or a Frantic Ghost,  
My Memory, my Sleep at last were lost.  
Nor was it difficult my grief to know,  
The Face, the Mind, the Look the love doth show:  
Which when my Father found, he grew more kind  
Than was his use: perhaps he called to mind  
His own experiments of love, whose fate  
Made him another's love commiserate.  
At length indulgent he thus kindly said,  
Tell, Faustus, tell me, speak, be not afraid,  
What troubles thee? what thoughts perplex thy breast?  
Poor Boy, thy very looks do Love attest;  
Come, tell me; nor be bashful to declare  
To me thy Father what thy sorrows are.  Fo. 
Though Fathers to their Sons may seem austere,  
Though (supercilious) they may look severe,  
Yet ever candid is their mind, their will  
Is ever loving and indulgent still.  Fa. 
When thus my Father had himself expressed,  
I fully, freely my desires confessed.  
I craved his aid, he promised it; and e'er  
The Winter frosts did in the fields appear,  
My Parents and the Maids consented both,  
And her to me did solemnly betrothe.  
Yet could I not without some witness by  
Be near the Maid, or in her company.  
Inflamed the while with thirst, I gaping stood,  
Like Tantalus amid the Crystal flood.  
How often, O! have I sent home the Blow  
Alone with th'Oxen (or I cared not how)  
While to my Dear I went, in hope to find  
All gone from home, her solely left behind?  
I wanted not excuses, nor pretence  
Of wanting something for convenience;  
Plough-handle, Harrows, Plough-staff, Thongs or Yoke,  
And though all wanting were for which I spoke  
At the Maid's Father's house, yet (truth to grant)  
I nothing but the Maid herself did want.  
I was not wanting to myself; for I  
Resumed my former sports, and did apply  
Myself to Fishing, Fowling, Hunting, and  
What e'er I took with mine industrious hand,  
Or caught by chance, the Maid did thither draw,  
I was a most officious Son in law.  
At midnight once I stealing through the door  
(For so the Maid and I agreed before)  
The Dogs descried me, took me for a Thief,  
Upon me fell: I forced (for my relief)  
Leaped o'er an high grown hedge without demurs,  
But scarce scaped biting of those barking Curs,  
And thus with these delights (befit a Lover)  
At length (though long) we passed that Winter over.  
The Spring returned, perfumed with Eglantine,  
Green grew the Trees, and flourishing the Vine.  
Now Ceres russeled in her bristling Corn  
With pendant ears; and when it must be shorn  
The Mower thinks; for nightly now the skies  
With Glow-worm's shine, and glistering Butterflies:  
Lo now my Marriage, now my genial day  
Approached, appeared; when I (without delay)  
The Maid espoused; what need I more recite?  
At night we found our long expected night,  
When with successful winds (thank Hymen fort)  
My ship arrived at the desired Port.  
Then having killed an Ox, we did display,  
Because it was a double Holiday,  
A double Feast; the Tables full were spread,  
Under a broad green Tree, with meat and bread.  
Oenophilus was there, who filled with wine,  
Made welcome sports for all that there did dine;  
And Tonius; whose Pipe of Boxes wood  
Bored full of holes, made Music passing good.  
At length, when all had eat and drank their fill,  
His particoloured bag and Pipe most shrill  
He took; his ruddy cheeks began to swell,  
His eyes to stare, his eyelids risen and fell.  
Then with an oft and deep extracted blast  
From's hollow lungs, the bagge's inflate at last,  
Which with his elbow squeezed, and having found  
Vent through the Pipe, did make the Pipe resound.  
Now here, now there his nimble finges skip  
From top to bottom, from his hand t'his lip;  
Whose jolly Music all the Yonkers calls  
Away to Dancing from their Festivals.  
Where on the Green, that day was sweetly spent  
In Piping, Dancing, Sporting, Merriment.  
And now three years are past, the fourth is nigh,  
Since chanted was mine Epithalamy.  
Thus our delightful days with posting hours  
Are quickly passed; what pleaseth, flies, what lours,  
Adheres more close, and longer doth abide  
Then twenty days of jollity beside.  Foyes 
Faustus dost see? look how the  break  
Into the Vineyards, while we sporting speak,  
We must be gone; lest if we longer stay,  
Our Purses for the Trespass sound pay.  
The End of the first Eclogue.   

ECLOGUE II. Treating of the Madness of Love. Entitled FORTUNATUS.  
The Argument.  
First Fortunatus doth relate  
Po's inundation, with th'event.  
Next of Amyntas Love and Fate  
He treats, and doth his case lament.  The Speakers Fortunatus and Faustus. Faust. 
WHy comest so late? what kept thee thus from hence  
So long a while? Now 'tis a seven-night since  
Thy flock was here: Where dost thy  keep?  
What, are these Pastures hurtful for thy Sheep?  Fort. 
No, Faustus, no: The River Po which glides  
With silver streams along our Meadows sides,  
Grew late so proud, that uncontrolled he laves  
The levelled Banks with his insulting Waves.  
We leaving then the Flock, and careless of it,  
Urged by the public and our private profit,  
By day, by night did labour to make good  
The ruin'd banks against the raging flood.  Fa. 
Our Tityrus, who sweetly sang the praise  
Of Fields and Pastures in his learned Lays,  
Reports for certain; That the River Po  
Brings oft ill fortune with its overflow.  Fo. 
'Tis true perhaps, when unindifferent  
The River with unlimited extent  
Doth timeless, meanless, boundless floods repeat,  
High swelling on a sudden, after heat.  
And now's the time: For now the Winter snow  
From Hills high tops dissolves, and runs below,  
Which empty Rivers fills. And thus those Hills  
Unload themselves, and load the lesser Rills;  
These load the Rivers, and the River's case  
Themselves, and are disburdened in the Seas.  
Men do the like; each doth himself unpack,  
And casts the burden on another's back.  
But now the River with a fair retreat  
Is recontracted in its proper seat.  Fa. 
True: but (a wonder 'tis to speak) when Po  
Did ebb, our Brook the more did overflow:  
The City swims, the Cellars are afloat,  
They row unto the vessels in a Boat:  
The servant, sent to draw for such as dine,  
Laughs while he swims unto the Butts of Wine.  
And from the Cellars deep and wat'ry Vault,  
A great black Jack of Wine at length is brought.  
Thus Citizens, though born they seem (perhaps)  
To better fortunes, have some after-claps:  
They many discommodities abide,  
Yea manifold sometimes, and great beside.  Fo. 
No profit here, but some disprofit brings,  
(Like Bees, that with their honey have their stings)  
Here's nothing perfect; fullness here doth want,  
All joys have here some sad Concomitant.  Fa. 
Thus fare Eridanus. And now from Po  
Let's on, and chant our loves before we go.  
Sith now fair Venus all things moves to mirth,  
The skies are clear and warm; the verdant earth  
Is clad in green, the Birds with vernal song  
Now clear the fields, and all are big with young.  Fo. 
Thou thine haste chanted: Others, not mine own  
I will relate; yet one's, to thee well known,  
A Shepherds; once well known he was to thee,  
While from enchanting Venus he was free:  
That I may teach, and (teaching) plainly prove,  
That nothing is more violent then Love.  
Poorest Amyntas, but unhappy more,  
Under some ill aspected Planet bore,  
Driving six Bullocks, Heifers six to grass,  
With a stout Bull that their Conductor was,  
Chief Captain of the Drove; at last did come  
To Coitus, where, with a Snowlike some  
The silver stream of Mincius doth die  
The Meadows, as it swiftly runneth by  
A new built Castle, whose high walls around  
With Turrets and with Battlements are crowned,  
Is Coitus; built in a Moorish soil,  
But near the River, a most stately Pile.  
Amyntas here reposing (where the Vine  
With large embraces doth the Trees intwine  
Near to the glassy River, where it made  
Along the Bank an over-hanging shade)  
Sought to surprise with angling Rod and Hook  
The silver Fishes in the Crystal Brook.  
'Twas Harvest time; and Titan's scorching force  
Had singed the fields: The Nightingale was hoarse,  
And ceased to sing: Nor could the Sheep by day  
Be fed with grass, because 'twas burned away:  
Nor were the skipping Grasshoppers (though few)  
Refreshed with moisture of the nigthly dew.  
But on the waters while he was intent,  
And in a fruitless sport his study spent,  
The Bull (as is reported) stung at first  
With Wasps, next coursed with Dogs, with Curs accursed,  
Then hid by thievish Soldiers in a grove,  
At last was lost, and vanished from the Drove.  
Which when Amyntas knew, he climbed an hill,  
And looking round about him, with a shrill  
And hollow voice he called the Bull: but when  
With long survey the Bull he could not ken.  
When lost he found his labour, up he takes  
His Bow and Quiver, and pursuance makes  
After the Bull through ways unknown and known  
Him seeking all the Pastures up and down,  
Among the Stalls of Beasts and Coats of Sheep,  
Among thine hills Benacus; through the deep  
Fat Olive fields, through grounds beset (by line)  
With frondent Fig trees, and the fruitful Vine.  
He came at length unto the lofty Crest  
Of an high Mountain (higher than the rest)  
Where Rocks of Sulphur are, which doth reflect  
Upon Benacus with a fair prospect,  
Whence all the Meadows here and there that lie  
Presented are apparent to your eye.  
'Twas then S. Peter's Festival, and there  
Under a broad green Elm assembled were  
From all the villages a lusty Crew  
Of youthful Men and Maids, who thither drew  
When all had dined: where, when the Pipe did sound  
They mixed together, danced a jolly round.  
The Rustics are a people of that guise,  
Whom no Civility can civilize:  
A restless and indomitable Creature,  
Whom neither Art can qualife nor Nature.  
They love to labour, sweeting doth them please;  
On Holy days (when others take their ease)  
The morning passed they gormandise and feast,  
Impatient of hunger and of rest.  
And when their Paunch is crammed, and dinner done,  
Hearing the Pipe, away to the th' Elm they run:  
Here rageth one, another danceth there,  
Who like an Ox most nimbly doth careero;  
And with his clouted Shoes, and lob-like land  
He tears and tires that Earth, which with his goad,  
His Plough and Harrows, 'twere a sin (they say)  
To till or tear upon an Holy day:  
And all that day he spends, till night recalls.  
In bonny Belly cheer and Bacchanals,  
With Singing, Laughing, Dancing, merrily,  
Carousing till the Pots and Cups be dry.  Fa. 
Fool, why dost prattle thus? Thou dost condemn  
The Country sports, when thou art one of them:  
Thou to thy friends art bad, but (foolish Else)  
In this thou'rt worse, and worst unto thyself.  Fo. 
I did but jest. Come, let's proceed to tell  
Of our Amyntas, and what him befell.  
He coming thither in the cooling shade,  
And leaning on his staff of Maple made,  
There stopped his passage, there his journey stayed,  
Until the scorching heat were more allayed.  
Ah hapless Lad! though in the shade thou lie,  
A greater heat than Titans will thee frie.  
Shut, shut thine eyes; lest, Oh if they dismount,  
Thou see Diana naked in the Fount.  
Stop, stop thine ears; O listen not at all  
To the bewitching Sirens flattering call.  
Thou like Narcissus art: Narcissus first  
But seeking at the Found to quench his thirst,  
Thirsted the more. And thou, while thou dost fly  
An outward heat, with inward flames wilt fry.  
O how much, how much better had it been  
(If so thy fates had pleased) t'have never seen  
That luckess Bull, t'have presently returned  
To th'other  ( thou thus hadst burned)  
T'have kept those heifers that were left behind,  
T'have lost thy Bull with a contented mind;  
Rather, then while thy labour thou dost waste,  
Nothing to lose, to lose thyself at last.  Fa. 
But after losses who becomes not wise?  
We should not after, but before, advise:  
Vain is all after-counsel, and as vain  
As, after fruits are ripe, a shower of rain.  Fo. 
Among the Maiden company was one,  
One fairer than the rest, whose beauty shone  
Amid her flaxen Tresses, nearly dressed,  
A Virgin fairer, taller than the rest,  
Some twenty years of age, of lovely face,  
One, that the City Beauties would disgrace  
If but contesting, or compared with them,  
For Beauty, she would win the Diadem  
From all the City Nymphs: A fillet round  
Beset with golden glittering Aglets bound  
Her Temples; whence a pendant vail enclosed  
Her shoulders, which amid her breasts reposed,  
There fastened with a yellow tach, and here  
Closed with an iron button shining clear;  
A linen garment white she wore, and new,  
Laid thick of pleats, most comely to the view,  
Hanging so long, so low, that it did meet,  
And sweep the ground beneath her tender feet.  
Assoon as her Amyntas did espy,  
He perished by the sight: his ravished eye  
Ingulph'd fierce flames: his amorous desire  
Sucked in a secret unsuspected fire;  
A fire that having once inflamed his heart,  
Can nor in whole b'extinguished, nor in part  
By floods of water, or by showers of rain:  
Vain was Herbs force, and Magic Spells were vain.  
Forgetful of his flocks, and careless frown  
Of his domestic things (as not his own)  
He's all inflamed, and (emptied of delights)  
Expends the long, the melancholy nights  
In bitterness and mourning: O how oft,  
Assaying with kind words, and language soft,  
To quench his raging flame, to cool his heat,  
His frantic, furious heat, did I repeat  
My words, and thus did say, Distressed Boy,  
Deserving pity, what doth thee destroy.  
What God in these perplexities involved  
Thy troubled mind? But (ah) 'tis soon resolved:  
It was not God, it was the Devil rather,  
Satan himself, the worst of all; the Father  
Of all those wicked spirits● which they say  
In thrice three nights, atd thrice a trebled day  
From the Supernal Heavens headlong fell  
To th' Earth, or lower, to the lowest hell.  
Tell me, go too: when thou didst any know  
Or dost remember any that did grow  
To wealth or credit thus, that in this wise  
Enlarged his house, or did to greatness rise?  
That thus with greater heaps of Corn did fill  
His garners, or more ameld Fields did till?  
That by such courses did increase his Flock,  
Or wish more Cattle did his pastures stock?  
Among so many multitudes of Nations  
That on the spacious Earth have habitations  
Are some, who to their execrable Feasts  
Serve up men's Bodies for their bloody guests,  
Who tear them with their teeth, and as their Food  
Devour their Flesh: There are I say a brood  
Of such cursed vipers, whom the furies haunt,  
And with so many mischiefs them inchant.  
But there's no kind so savage, none so bade  
No Nation's there so barbarous, so mad,  
But as an execrable thing doth hate  
To be by love of women Captivate.  
Hence come contentions, hence comes strife and wars,  
And ofttimes death with many bloody scars:  
Hence Cities have been ruined, razed their wall:  
Yea, the sage Laws, and solemn decretals  
Bound in red leather-volumes disapprove  
This wanton sin, and hate unlawful love.  
When thus Amyntas heard me speak of Laws  
He made this answer (and without a pause,  
For he was civilised, and did converse  
Within the City) Thou dost this rehearse  
Quoth he, that by these warnings thou mightst seem  
Wise, Circumspect, and of discreet esteem:  
Thus thinking to be thought t'excel the wise  
The supercilious Cato's for advice.  
This error, this wise madness reigns too much▪  
Himself man flatters, and would fain be such  
As he conceits himself, he fain would seem  
A witty Creature, of a vast esteem:  
But unadvised yet he spreads, he sets  
To catch himself a thousand snares and Nets,  
And oftentimes himself at unawares  
Falls in his own digged pits, his ownrspread snares.  
Once he was free, but brought himself in thrall,  
And made the slavish yok● he draw withal,  
That is the burden of the Laws (For I)  
Have seen those volumes) which so ponderous lie,  
That neither our Forefathers, nor their heirs,  
Nor we, nor our Posterity, nor theirs  
Can, or can ever keep in act or awe  
According to the letter of the Law.  
Behold how foolish is Man's wisdom; Man  
At heaven levels, and believes he can  
Transcend the Stars, or in a Rank with them  
Invested, wear a starlike Diadem,  
When as his body dead, perhaps his soul  
May transmigrate into some winged foul,  
And Feathered so may sore aloft, and fly  
With nimble plumes amid the middle sky.  
Thus He: Then I replied, why dost repine?  
Why dost thus snarl? The Laws are things divine.  
God is their Author, them to disobey  
Doth tootoo great impiety bewray.  Fa. 
These arguments are great, and treat (like Kings)  
Of weighty matters, of mysterious things.  Fo. 
Why what dost think I was; though now ('tis true)  
My Coat is patched, my face of sordid hue,  
Yet then in strength, wit, language I was rare,  
None other Shepherd could with me compare.  
And now, if thou wouldst go with Front erect,  
With upright body, thou for thine aspect,  
For thy comportment, shalt in some degree  
Another Marius or Carbo be.  Fo. 
Amyntas thus reproved, did thus reply;  
God envied Man created, when his eye  
Viewed with what happiness his gifts began,  
He thought that good, to be too good for man:  
He quashed his wish, and limited his will  
By new made Laws, which kerb man's nature still,  
And bridle him, as horsemen when they ride  
Bridle their horses, lest they start aside.  
My love compels my judgement to disclose,  
And makes me freely speak: who doth oppose  
The common use of Wives, that man (in truth)  
Is envious; but honesty (forsooth)  
His envy must excuse: an honest thought  
Which evil custom of long envy brought;  
For while each man t'himself alone confines  
His own delights, and with disdain repines  
To make them public: This became a sage,  
A common custom, honest made with age:  
And jealous Madness by degrees did draw  
This but a Custom to be made a Law.  
Love is malignant, Pleasure is no less;  
Both murmur at another's happiness.  
Then I, not daring longer to contest  
Against a man with Passion so possessed,  
Lest him inflamed with Love, with Choler burned,  
And from the frantic Lover home returned.  Fa. 
See'st how this fond, this mad affection blinds  
The soundest judgements of the sagest minds,  
Us leading in a voluntary way  
To grossest errors at the mid of day?  Fo. 
Seest how the Clouds on Baldus top condense  
In black agglomerations? Come, let's hence;  
'Twill hail, 'tis time to go; lest (if it rise)  
The tempest our dispersed Sheep surprise.  
The End of the second Eclogue.   

ECLOGUE III. Treating of the hapless event of Frantic Love. Entitled AMYNTAS.  
The Argument.  
What Losses husbandmen attend,  
What rage Amyntas did assail,  
His death and lamantable end  
Here Fortunatus doth bewail.  The Speakers, Faustus and Fortunatus. Faust. 
THat rattling storm of hail, which yesternight  
Came rushing down from Baldus, did affright,  
But did not hurt us with its sudden showers,  
Thanks to those tutelary Saints of ours  
That guard our Fruits: but yet those boisterous storms  
(As Harculus, who came from thence, informs)  
O Fortunatus spoiled Verona's Fields:  
The Sheep and Cattle, with what else it yields,  
The Country Cottages and Shepherds Cotts  
Are battered so with those tempestuous shots,  
Are so demolished, that small hope remains,  
Or rather none to those poor Country Swains  
For Corn and Cattle, all the riches are  
Of Husbandmen, still subject, as to care  
So to mischances; Citizens the while  
A mass of Treasure in their Coffers pile.  
Which neither Hail, Dew, Frost, nor ireful air  
Can dash, dissolve, diminish, or impair.  Fort. 
I know not who the winds and storms Commands,  
I know I know not; Nor, if I those hands  
Did know, know I enough: but yet I dare  
Speak what I know: my mind I will declare.  
What? shall my life be thus imbittered here?  
Shall I here be so lashed, and so severe?  
If (as they say) the Gods above the skies  
Do rule the world, I think their deities  
Take little care, or else but little know  
The miserable toil of Men below.  
See with what daily pains and hourly sweat  
A poor a slender living here we get:  
How many miseries within a year  
For Wives, Flocks, Children do poor Shepherds bear?  
With Summer heat we fry, with winter's cold  
We freeze: When Boreas with his blasts grows bold,  
We sleep in ragged Cots upon the ground;  
A thousand Pests, a thousand sores confound  
Our Cattle, and a thousand things prevail  
Against them: Here the sheepfold Thiefs assail,  
Wolves there; The Soldier yonder is as brief  
To steal us both; Nay more than Wolf or thief.  
Our hands with daily toil are stiff and hard,  
Our face is riveled, rugged is our Beard,  
Our skin is parched with heat; and yet at last  
One sudden storm of hail doth all lay waste.  
The Gods do this, before whose shrines we bow,  
And on whose Altars (with a solemn vow)  
We sacrifice our Lamps, and voted lights  
Of wax, devoted to Religious rites.  
I know not what Indulgence, or what love  
What Piety, what Pity from above  
Involves poor Shepherds (poor by frequent losses)  
With these so great mishaps, so grievous crosses.  Faust. 
This damage, this unhappiness proceeds  
O Fortunatus, from our own misdeeds:  
Gods Judgements all are always just: Our sin,  
Our wickedness these plagues hath ushered in.  Fort. 
What wickedness? What have we yet assayed  
To murder Christ? what, have we Christ betrayed?  Faust. 
Oh, our repine, Robberies, and rages,  
Our veneries, lies, strifes, produce these strages.  Fort. 
What have the good deserved, for I suppose  
All are not evil; yet both these and those  
Suffer alike? One punishment is had  
A like for all together, good and bad.  Faust. 
Alas, what knowst thou not (presumptuous clod)  
'Tis impious to think amiss of God?  
But leaving these Mysterious things, too great  
To know, which must be secret: Let's repeat  
Amyntas Love: Come, let's repeat again  
Those care, which vexed his heart, which crazed his brain,  
Which all have tried, which are unknown to none.  Fort. 
Love is a common thing, the wont tone  
Of youth, it is their study, their delight.  
But grief and perturbations blind the sight  
With passion, which doth oft unhing the mind,  
Thus sad expressions from sad hearts we find.  Faust. 
Things known and understood, Thou mayst relate  
For matter and for time, but never prate  
Of things unknown, or of uncertainties:  
(For so great Cosmas was accounted wise)  Fort. 
Faustus' the'art wise: Let's then known Loves repeat:  
It rests, that of Amyntas now we treat,  
Of his mad Love, his last sad Fate, and spend  
Some tears upon his lamentable end,  
A little after, passing by that way,  
I saw the man again, who Frantic lay:  
I, pitying his folly, Thus began:  
O thou (quoth I) most miserable Man  
Most misadvised whom fatal Aconite  
Intoxicate, now made the common spite,  
The Common sport of people: dost not yet  
Repent thy love? Dost yet thyself forget?  
Yet buried in Love dost snatch from hence  
Thyself, and thine with thee (by violence)  
Thy Cottages and Cattle, as of your  
Expiring Samson all things with him bore?  
When old thou growest (if so the Fates be pleased)  
Who shall sustain thee then? then when diseased,  
Dull, Sleepy, poor, if now thy strength and wit  
Decay, decline, if now thy Senses flit?  
All these (like waters through an open Sluice)  
If death prevent not, Age will introduce.  
Keep home, be vigilant, observant be;  
But chief whither thou dost tend, foresee:  
Beware thou go not thither, whither come,  
Thou mayst deplore, thy most unhappy doom:  
Discern thy ways; Remember Man was born  
Not to delights or pleasures, but to scorn  
Those flattering effeminate deceits  
Which spoil unstable youth with sugared baits,  
I, I that Cattle have, and Milk, and Cheese,  
Do scarce subsist in such hard times as these;  
The vows so great in all our Fields and Tents,  
Things have so many sad and bad events.  
So great disprofits ev'ry where disperse,  
So many things adverse in th' Universe.  
Hear an unheard of thing, a thing unknown  
Of yore, which now to me these times have shown:  
Autumn approaching, as it is our use,  
I shore my sheep; which done, I did produce  
At morning's Market, and exposed to sale  
Twice thirty pound of Wool (nor is't a tale)  
Expecting store of money for the same,  
But short mine hope, mine expectation came:  
'Twill scarce preserve my Flock 'twill scarce provide  
Hay for the Winter: which way then beside  
My Family shall be maintained as well,  
Indeed Amyntas, yet I cannot tell.  
He that's a Lover must himself improve  
By gifts unto the Mistress of his love.  
But thou whom fickle Fortune hath bereft  
Almost of all, to whom she scarce hath left  
A Cottage, under which thy poorness may  
Be lodged at Night, or be received by day.  
What canst thou give which may be grateful said  
Unto the wish of thy beloved Maid?  
'Twas once enough to send those Loves of ours  
Ten pleasant apples, or some purple flowers,  
A Birds Nest, or sweet grass: when these were thought  
Great gifts I well remember; But 'tis brought  
From grass to gold; Love is a costly thing,  
A dear bought sweet too great expense doth bring  
In these our times; Old customs are refused,  
And now new Laws of Love, but worse, are used.  
While thus I did persuade, He cast aside  
His ireful eyes, and (frowning) thus replied:  
If thou O Fortunatus dost desire  
My wished for health, Then give what I require,  
Give me my Love: No Medicine but this one  
Can cure my grief: This is the Cure alone:  
Those other things, which thou so much dost name,  
Do but torment me more: This scorching flame,  
This Fury which so rageth in my breast.  
Can never thence be pulled or dispossessed;  
For still my mind as present doth suppose  
The Virgin's shape, with me she comes, she goes,  
She stays, wakes, sleeps with me: mine heart, mine head,  
My bones, my reins are all Environed  
With her fair Form: Nor from my melting heart  
Can she, before my life departs, depart.  
As when a science from one stock is cut,  
And graffed upon another, Both do shut  
And join so close, That their two Natures grow  
Together mixed, and Flourish in one bough:  
So the beloved Image of my dear,  
My lovely Mistress doth my soul adhere,  
Is there immerged: makes both our hearts but one,  
But one makes both our souls: in us alone  
The Spirit and the Senses are the same.  
O happy should I be, if when my flame,  
My spark of life expires, I might (at least)  
Upon the tender lap, the milk white breast,  
The snowlike arms of my most honoured,  
And dearest Love but lay my dying head.  
She with her hands would close my dying eyes,  
She with sad voice, with lamentable cries  
Would wail my Funerals: and whether I  
Deceasing to th' Elysian Fields shall fly,  
Or whether I be rapped and hurled upon  
The burning Streams of Flaming Phlegeton,  
I cannot happy be without thee, neither  
Unhappy with thee; Might we be together.  
Ye Dryads, and Goddesses of Flowers,  
O ye fair Nymphs, and O of Woods and Bowers,  
Thou Guardian Sylvanus, keep I pray,  
Keep on your hills and Valleys all the gay,  
The gallant Flowers of your woods and Fields,  
Or of what sweets beside the Country yields:  
Hedge in your groves, and thence the Cattle stop,  
Lest they should browse the buds, or flowers should crop  
Keep, keep I pray these Flowers, These sweets, These all,  
To Celebrate my loves sad Funeral:  
Then all the ground about where ere you tread,  
With Flowers sweetly smelling shall be spread:  
Wove Garlands you: Garlands for sight, for sent,  
Fair, fragrant to surround her Monument:  
Garlands my Mistresses dead Corpses to cover  
Until interred; Then to be Pendant over.  
The Maiden Muses shall attend her hearse,  
And weeping sing an Elegiac verse:  
Shall on her grave engrave in stone or lead  
This Epitaph for aftertimes to read,  
Here lies a Maid; Who, but she cruel was,  
Might among Mortals for Immmortall pass:  
Might have been Nature's Paragon and Jewel,  
Had she not to her Lover been too cruel.  
O maid, if such a scorching flame as mine  
Did but inflame that breast, that heart of thine,  
An hundred gulfs, a thousand raging Seas  
I would swim o'er, to give thy passions ease:  
But thou more cruel, thou more serpentine  
Than Hydra, dost myself, my love decline.  
But (ah) the maid is blameless, for as yet  
She knows me not: and doubtless could she get  
But knowledge of my love, she would afford  
My love some comfort of her own accord.  
Nor can I think that Nature e'er did place  
So hard an heart under so sweet a face.  
But faces are deceitful; for the while  
They seem most beautiful, they most beguile:  
A cruel mind hath oft a Candid skin;  
Fair looks without, conceal foul hearts within.  
Yet I will speak, and make her know my love:  
But should she then repulse me, should she prove  
Unkind, mine eyes would melt in tears, mine heart,  
My mourning heart with deep fetched groans would part  
Would break in twain, and though she still detest,  
And fly me following her with my request,  
Yet whither ever I shall carried be,  
These cares, these thoughts for her will follow me.  
Hence, O far hence Physicians with your art,  
For (ah) incurable's my grief, my smart:  
Hence, O far hence Magicians, you whose spells  
Can raise (they say) pale Ghosts from Pluto's Cells:  
Hence, O far hence you, that the Powers Divine,  
Suppose your vain Petitions can incline:  
Your Orisons (alas) are despicable  
Averse is Heaven and inexorable:  
Impatience and madness me from hence  
Transport with rage, and rap with violence:  
I like to trace the solitary Crests  
Of craggy Mountains, and the Dens of Beasts.  
While thus he spoke, with friendly words I tried  
T' assuage him, but my words were misapplied.  
For nothing, ah there could be nothing found  
To cure his never to be cured wound.  
Amid the silent Fields in discontent  
The long, the melancholy night he spent,  
And from the dawning to the close of day  
Among the Brakes and Bushes hide he lay:  
He never slept, and did but seldom eat,  
Water his drink, wild apples were his meat.  
After long groans at length, and mournful cries,  
Exhausting with continual tears his eyes,  
After most sad laments, with griefs o'reworn,  
His heart within often sighs asunder torn  
He died, ending, with his life, his love.  
His liveless body left the ground above  
Without interment, and neglected quite,  
The Birds devoured by day, the Beasts by night.  Fa. 
Ah, Cupid's deadly dram, ah fatal gin,  
Which whosoevers heart it enters in  
Doth wholly Captivate that wretched heart,  
Transfixing it with an envenomed dart,  
Men equalling with Beasts: what worse Receipts,  
What more empoisoned, or bewitching baits  
Can Circe, could Calypso give then these?  
What Styx, what Phlegeton could more disease?  
What Furies more torment? O most unwise  
You were, what e'er you were, that did disguise  
Blind Cupid with a godhead; what is Nature  
A God, that hurts or Nullifies a Creature?  
Where e'er there is a God, him think we must  
To be to man indulgent, harmless, just.  Fo. 
Ah sweet, and ever to be pitied youth,  
Surprised thus in thy prime, thy lives chief growth;  
What fatal star did on thy Birth reflect?  
What part of heaven with so dire aspect  
So much maligned thee, that It made thy Fate  
(Though causeless) from thy Birth unfortunate?  
Yet from thee was not heavens sweet influence  
Wholly declined, but that thou wert from thence  
Inspired with sacred Poesy, with skill  
To sing sweet Sonnets on thine Oaten quill:  
And, but for timeless death, thy learned lays  
Ivy deserved, deserved Parnassus Bays:  
Nor did our Tytirus so well beloved  
Of great Alexis, better sing ('tis proved)  
Of Wars, Corn, Tillage, Pastures, every thing,  
Then thou thyself, than thou thyself didst sing.  
For thy Mature, propense and active Mind,  
(Which we long since observed, to good inclined)  
Began to Fructify, began t' impart  
No vulgar showers of thy rare gifts and art.  
Thou mayst be styled to thine etern renown  
The Country's honour, and our age's Crown;  
Po with our Mincius in doleful tone  
With all their Nymphs shall thee bewail, bemoan,  
As Thrac' a Hebrus Orpheus did lament:  
Thee the sad Shepherds full of discontent  
Bewail, as Daphnis once they did bewail;  
For thee, like discontents assault, assail,  
The grounds and Pastures all untilled and til'd.  
Whose sad complaints are heard in every field,  
Ye Shepherds with sweet Flowers his grave bestrew,  
And yearly there his memory renew  
With Elegies and Frankincense: with them  
Sing there the Poets endless Requiem.  Fa. 
But thou the while Amyntas dost possess  
A better place, a place of happiness;  
Here we bewail thee, thou the while art come  
Into the pleasures of Elysium.  Fo. 
And he this day should be bewailed of us:  
For I last night beheld an Ominous,  
I know not what sad-seeming apparition  
To me presented in a mournful vision.  
But now 'tis evening: and the setting Sun  
Declining in a cloud doth rain forerun,  
Foreshews our husbandmen that storms are near;  
'Tis therefore time before the storm appear  
To recollect our Cattle: come (foretold)  
Let's drive our sheep and Cattle to the Fold.  
The End of the third Eclogue.   

ECLOGUE iv Treating of the Nature of Women. Entitled ALPHUS.  
The Argument.  
Janus relates his Lad, his Goat  
How first he lost, and then did find:  
Whence Alphus doth proceed to note  
The Properties of womankind.  The Speakers Alphus and Janus. Al. 
I Anus, I see thy Goat is lean, which want  
To be more brisk, and with his horned Front  
Sky-ward erected wont to stalk in scorn:  
Dull and dejected now (like one forlorn)  
He flags his ears, the grass but smells, ornips  
Or doth but touch it with his outer lips.  Ja. 
He languisheth, and from that languishing  
Ariseth mirth: which, when to mind I bring,  
It makes me laugh; the jest is yet unshown,  
But all the world will wonder, when 'tis known.  Al. 
Janus, thy pleasing tongue was used to vent  
Most wittily, neat jests with merriment;  
Tell therefore, tell me now (here's none but us)  
What made thy lusty Goat to languish thus.  Ja. 
I'll tell thee, God's my witness 'tis no Fable.  
'Twas lately done, 'tis truth and warrantable.  
But I for nothing will not this report,  
What's my reward what wilt thou giveme for't?  Al. 
janus, i'll show the bush, i'll show the Field  
Where a sweet-singing Nightingale doth build.  Ja. 
Who slightly promise, lightly they Beguile.  Al. 
Who credits not is faithless; but the while  
To make thee sure, lo, from my quiver drawn  
A pair of arrows; Take them for a pawn.  Ja. 
I'll then begin: Ye Muses move my tongue,  
Revive my memory, that I the wrong,  
The sad misfortune of my Goat may tell;  
And t' Alphus grant the Nest of Philomela.  
I hired a boy, and placed him o'er my sheep:  
He daily fed them, and did duly keep  
My Goat, my Kids; his service for a while  
Was grateful to me, till he saw the smile  
Of a fair Virgin, who to these our springs  
For water came: But since with languishing.  
He pines, now sottish is become, neglects  
To feed the sheep, the sheepcotes disrespects,  
And all his business in a giddy vain  
Turns topsy-turvy with his empty brain.  
Him, while he slept, one would have thought awake,  
For waking idly with himself he spoke;  
He sleeping used and waking in extremes,  
His body dull, his mind was full of dreams.  
He loy'tring, in a grove, this Goat of mine  
Tied by the horns with a strong twiggen line  
Among the bushes; (now 'tis four days since)  
Assaying if the Goat could break from thence  
By strength of neck, or hardness of his horns.  
The Boy mean while among the brakes and thorns,  
Stalks wand'ring up and down the wood to seek,  
To find a birds nest in some bush or Creek.  
His mind is on the maid, his thoughts reflect  
Upon her beautifull-beloved aspect,  
Her Face, breasts, other parts, which here for shame  
My blushing modesty forbears to name.  
Day flies the while: The boy comes home at night  
But left the Goat behind, forgot him quite.  
At Midnight he bethought him, and arose  
To seek the Goat: goes out, and as he goes  
Half trembling in the dark, he falls at last  
In a deep pit, whose mouth was overcast  
With boughs and straw, so covered to betray,  
To take wild Beasts that on our Cattle prey.  
Deep was the Pit, and steep wherein he fell,  
Returnles like the bottom of a well.  
The Goat's in bonds, in prison is the boy,  
No shepherd guards the sheep, though Wolves destroy,  
'Twas the third hour next morn, I wondered, I  
My sheep reviewed, recounted, ('tis no lie)  
Missing the Goat amazed I stood, I called  
The Boy, the sheepcotes searched, and much appalled,  
I feared lest anointed with enchanted oil,  
And mounting on my Goat, he from the soil,  
Had leaped, and travelled through the pathless air:  
For witches so (they say) by ni●ht repair,  
Using like magic ointments, and are hurled  
To certain feasts far off, about the world.  
Amazed, at length my sheep to grass I drove,  
And musing with myself, while I the grove  
Did enter in; Behold far off, behold  
My Goat amid the bushes in the cold  
And dusky shadow brays, and striving stands  
Butting with horns opposed against his bands,  
This sudden apparition of my Goat,  
This unexpected coming  I thought,  
Affrighted me: yet with courageous heart  
At length I knew the Beast, I played my part,  
I went among the Brakes, and cut in twain  
Those rigid bands that did my Goat detain,  
Returning homewards late, I spied afar  
Among the Pastures that adjoining are  
A multitude of jolly-merry Boys,  
leaping and laughing loud with youthful noises  
When near we came together me they knew,  
Saluted, and thus said, O janus view,  
View here thy Boy, but newly from the snares  
Of Wolves drawn out, wherein at unawares  
Headlong he tell, walking by night the ground;  
And thus my Goat and Shepherd both were found.  
The Goat thus wronged still pines: The foolish lad  
More pining is, and then the Goat more mad.  
The maid once hearing that she was beloved,  
Grew quickly proud; and seeming nothing moved  
Dissembles it, dissembles that she knew  
The Lads affection, still herself withdrew,  
As if abashed, and (like a subtle Trul)  
To make her beauty seem more beautiful,  
Her head, her breasts she decks, she blushing jets  
Down looking on the growing violets:  
And cunningly she doth the thing disguise  
With sample shows, but Foxlike subtleties.  
These are the women's studies, gins and arms.  
My shepherd thus bewitched with these her charms,  
Yet hoping that he should at length enjoy  
His love, his Galatea: (foolish Boy)  
Disdained his wages, and my service left,  
Only pursued his love: I, thus bereft,  
Was forced to leave mine oxen, plough and wain,  
And t' undertake the shepherd's trade again.  
Youth's levity to madness thus propense  
Infests all Countries in aequivalence.  Al. 
What wit effects not, Fortune doth advance:  
O strange astonishment, O witty chance,  
O pretty things deserving two months laughter.  
janus, I'll keep my word: Pandions' daughter  
Doth for thee labour, builds her nest for thee.  
But now thou speakest of this so crafty she,  
This subtile-wily maid, I call to mind  
What Vmber's of the frauds of women kind  
Used oft of yore to sing in learned verse.  ja. 
Tell me (pray thee) tell, if ought thou canst rehearse  
Of Umber, weigh his words, his verse awhile,  
All umbers verses were of lofty style,  
Were memorable all, and worth regard.  Al. 
They be, thou sayest, but not without reward  
To be repeated: What reward, what pay?  
What wilt thou give me? speak, and then I'll say.  Ja. 
I from thy promise thee release; and (more)  
Here, take, thy pair of Arrows I restore.  Al. 
While I behind these sedges go t'untruss,  
Look to my , Janus, lest they thus  
Straggling abroad should break (beyond their lines)  
Into the Vineyards, and there spoil the Vines.  Ja. 
O Ram, thou Ram that with thy crooked horns,  
Like a black Devil, look'st among the thorns,  
Entering the Vineyards still; thou'lt not forbear,  
Till from thy forehead both thine eyes I tear.  
Are not those Pastures, which in measure be  
An hundred Acres, large enough for thee,  
But that thou must destroy, thou must despoil  
The Vines and Vineyards (that enclosed soil?)  Al. 
Janus, I thee remember, and return:  
But I perhaps can tell (that thou mayst learn)  
Things yet unknown to thee: for Umber knew  
All that was lawful for a man to view,  
All that was lawful for a man to know;  
He knew the world above, the world below,  
The skies, stars, earth, winds, rivers seas and fountains;  
He travelled and had seen those lofty Mountains  
Ossa, ceraunia, Rhodope; besides  
The  Kingdom, Araxis, The tides  
Of Rhine, Po, Tiber: And his witty pate  
Greek Verses into Latin did translate.  
In either tongue he second was to none,  
But in each language learned. Him, him alone  
Greece envied us: Him, him (that learned race)  
Th' Arcadians themselves, with those of Thrace,  
That chant it in the Groves did emulate, Thessaliam Temple did malign his fate.  
If thou perhaps dost more desire to know,  
Our Neighbours Candidus that lives below,  
That followed still his Precepts, will impart  
Us to; for he remembers it, his art.  
But now the seven holed Pipe let's try, let's sound:  
Yet I the Muses first implore around  
To deign their presence, but my chiefest guest,  
Polymna, more remembering then the rest.  

* What the Author meant of all, the Translator intends only of ill women.  The female Sex is servile, cruel, proud,  
Wanting law, measure, reason, very loud;  
The bounds of right omits, extremes admits,  
Doth all things unadvisedly by fits:  
Or it will slowly creep, or swiftly run,  
Or cold it is as Ice, or hot as Sun:  
Never well tempered, never moderate,  
Or she will dearly love, or deadly hate.  
Would she seem grave? Too sullenly she lours:  
Would she less grave seem plausible? She towers  
On levity, and with a wanton smile  
Displays immodest Impudence the while.  
She weeps and laughs, fears, dares, is wise, unwise,  
Will, will not: All things doth by contraries.  
Flitting, inconstant, wandering, prattling, vain,  
Two-tongued, threatening, of imperious strain;  
Angry, bloodthirsty, wicked, avaricious,  
Catching, complaining, credulous, malicious,  
Lying, impatient, burdenous, tippling all,  
Rash, taunting, light, ambitious, magical;  
She-Pander, superstitious, slothful, prone  
To gossip, studious of the Stews, alone  
Of dainty palate, wanton, malapert,  
Addict to tenderness, addict (with art)  
To smooth-faced Adulation, and addict  
To trim her face, to make her beauty tricked:  
She, wrath and hate retaining, doth defer  
Till opportunity produce for her  
Desired revenge, ungrateful, trustless, swelling,  
Bold, cruel, wrangling, violent, rebelling,  
Upbraideth others, but her own offence  
Excuseth with her whining eloquence;  
Murmurs, accends debate, regards no ties  
Of amity, scoffs friendship, always eyes  
Her own advantage, only careful of it,  
Only respecting her own proper profit;  
Flatters, deludes, delays, too closely bites  
With bitter jests, and to divulge, delights,  
Vain fables adds to that which others spoke,  
And of a Molehill doth a Mountain make.  
Feigns things are not, dissembles things that are,  
Most learned to frame excuses, and most rare  
To forge deceits; her face she fits for wiles,  
Her face all imitating, frowns or smiles.  
Her snares thou canst not scape, thou canst not fly,  
Thou canst not overcome her subtlety,  
So great's her diligence, her skill so great  
To work a mischief if she please to cheat.  
And though thou see'st it with thine eyes, she dares  
Excuse the wickedness: Her potent snares  
Delude the Senses with her active mind.  
In nothing thou canst credit her, so blind  
She'll make thee, yet she'll make thee that thy faith  
Must credit every thing she doth, or saith.  
Examples this confirm: What horrid Crimes  
Have not bold Females acted in their times?  
Tarpeia for a Bracelet did betray  
To Rome's proud foes the Port, the City's Key.  
Bloody Medea did her hands imbrue  
In her own children's blood, whom (ah) she slew.  
Adult rous Helen filled th' Aegean Seas  
With Ships of War. Scylla the foe to please  
Betrayed her Father, stole his purple hair,  
Fled with the foe, o'erturned his Regal Chair.  
Biblis her Brother with base Lust pollutes,  
Herself t'her Father Myrrah prostitutes.  
Semiramis for her own Son did lust:  
Amphiaraus was reduced to dust  
By means of his unfaithful wife: The Daughters  
Of Danaus killed, with unheard of slaughters,  
Their husbands in one night. A bloody Crew  
Of women the sweet Poet Orpheus slew,  
And him in pieces cruelly did cut.  
Pasiphae with Taurus played the slut.  
Immodest Phoedra full of impudence  
With Chastity did most unchaste dispense.  
Rebeccah did with subtlety beguile  
Her husband, and her elder son, the while  
She covered the youngers smother skin  
With Kid-skins: so the Blessing he did win.  
Stout Hercules was poisoned by his wife;  
Hippodame betrayed her Father's life.  
Lavinia (to palliate a jar)  
Involved the Trojans in a doubtful war.  
Bryseis from the Camp Achilles drew.  
Chryseis with her Love-tricks overthrew  
The noble Agamemnon, who, with Love  
Mad and enraged, was punished from above  
By Phoebus, for his too too bold device:  
And Eve Mankind expelled from Paradise.  
Believe it shepherds (for I here attest  
The Country Gods) if you desire your rest,  
If you the Pastures would should harmless prove  
Unto your flocks, if you your flocks do love,  
If Rest, Peace, Life be grateful to you; Chase  
All wanton Wenches from your dwelling-place.  
Away with Thestilis far hence, away  
With Phillis, and let her no longer stay  
Neaera, Galatea, nor their mate  
Lycoris; for they'll spend your whole estate.  
If you in your estates desire to thrive,  
Far from your sheep coats all those Lasses drive.  
Tell me what woman ever past the Chain  
Of Pluto's Cell, and thence returned again?  
Had not Eurydice been mad, she might  
Have back returned through those black shades of night  
By which she thither went: And Proserpina  
Had not the luck those Dungeons to decline.  
But dutiful Aeneas safely came  
From those dark Dens; and Orpheus did the same.  
Great Hercules from thence again, unburned;  
And Theseus, and the Brethren two returned,  
Both equal expert (brother like to brother)  
In Riding th'one, in Fights and Wrestling th'other.  
And our Redeemer did return from thence,  
Whose rising brought the sweetest influence  
Of Life and of Salvation. Shepherds, O  
These, these are Mysteries for us to know,  
For us to ponder: Let man's noble mind  
Fly things obscene for better things designed.  
Let feminines themselves delight, delude  
With things and places infamous and rude.  
As when a Sailer, forced with winds and tide  
Hath dashed his ship against a Rock, can guide  
Unheedy Sailors to decline that Rock.  
So man grown old and wiser, can unlock  
By long experience the Chance of things  
That are to come, and his Remembrance brings  
Things that are passed to light, and shows thereby  
The many dangers of Mortality.  
If Fowl, the Cruel Eagle, N●ts the Deer,  
The Lamb the Wolf, Does Dogs do fly, do fear.  
Why dost thou not, O shepherd, fear and fly  
Woman's enticements, hurt so much thereby.  
Hyaena-like theyare crafty to beguile,  
And pious are, as is the Crocodile,  
When flattering she weeps, she thee besets:  
Fly, shepherd, women's looks, they be but Nets.  
Trust not to courage, valour, nor to strength,  
Nor to that Buckler, whose unwonted length  
Did Perseus' guard, that without hurt or dread  
He saw the Snakes upon Medusa's head:  
Those Snakes that metamophosed into stone  
All that beheld her face, but him alone.  
Many have Monsters killed, have Giants tamed,  
Have Cities overturned, have been famed  
To bond the Seas proud waves, and at their wills  
To stop the floods, to top the sharpest hills.  
The solemn Games to their immortal praise  
Have crowned the Victor's brows with frondent bays.  
But all those Conquerors that others spoiled,  
By women conquered were themselves and foiled.  
He that was first a Shepherd, than a King,  
Renowned for his Lion and his Sling;  
His Son that after his devout example  
Erected sacred Zions' stately Temple:  
And Samson, whose unconquered strength excelled  
All others, were by women captives held.  
Fire, Stones, Swords, Spears less hinder our designs,  
Yea Death less hurts us then those feminines.  
Nor with her native beauty pleased, she will  
A thousand ways augment it with her skill:  
Gold decks her forehead; and to make her fair,  
She paints her face, and neatly curls her hair.  
With art she goes, with art she guides her eyes:  
She runs, and (sporting) from her lover flies  
Among the bushes, that she thither may  
Seduce her lover; willing she's to play,  
But simple yet, and honest she would seem;  
She's negative, and strives, but her esteem  
Prefers this one thing; all things else above  
To be subjected in the fights of Love.  
A woman ('tis a wonder) doth present  
The Northwest wind, which in the firmament  
Condenseth clouds, and scatt'reth them again  
In furious tempestuous storms of Rain.  
O whosoever thou be, I thee forwarn  
This lesson from mine own experience learn;  
Try not, whilst thou mayst choose, how many sorts  
Of dangers this frail sex with it comports,  
What deep disdains it hath: It is a Creature  
That is imperfect, and immund by Nature,  
But cures itself with Art; she works by day,  
And wakes by night to wash those blurs away.  
She washes, shaves, paints, prints, anoints, adorns,  
She's all deceit, all skill, all filled with scorns.  
Like Mymick Players, she's all Aconite,  
Her Looking-glass she doth consult for right,  
All things she doth thereby; she learns thereby  
To move her lips, to frame her face, her eye:  
She learns thereby to flatter with her lips,  
To laugh, to sport; her shoulders and her hips  
She learns thereby to wriggle as she goes,  
All by the Looking glass she doth compose.  
What mean those naked breasts? what means (I pray)  
That little-open chink above? the way  
That like a cloven Valley down directs  
Upon her naked bosom vain reflects?  
Doubtless for nothing else, but that th'adust  
And penetrable poison of hot Lust  
Should more oppress the senses with desire,  
And set men's hearts with Stygian flames on fire:  
These are to young men rocks and sands and seas;  
These are the Scylla's, the Charybdis these;  
These are those Harpies, beastly Birds that flew  
About King Phineus house, and did bespew  
His Table wîth their odious excrements:  
These did defile his Chambers, Tables, Tents,  
His Feasting-rooms: Nor freed were from these ills  
Paths, Temples, ways, fields, rivers, seas or hills.  
These are those Gorgon's, each with monstrous head,  
In the remotest parts of afric bred;  
Who with their horrid looks and hellish tones  
Did living men transform to liveless stones.  
Learned Vmber's Verses we recited have,  
Which if they seem more tedious, or less grave,  
Think then (for briefly we did them rehearse)  
The fault is in the Matter, not the Verse.  
'Tis Woman's Madness, 'tis not o the Song,  
'Tis not the Verse that tedious is or long.  
O memorable, grave and aged man,  
Of whom old Vmbria so much began  
To boast itself: whom (to thy City near)  
Even Tiberis itself accounted dear.  
Thee warlike Rome, not without pregnant cause  
Did call so much: She knew (to thine applause)  
Thy skill, thy Verses of Heroic style:  
For thee, when thou didst die, the Nymphs of Nile,  
The Latin Naiads and Greek did mourn.  
O may thy bones lie soft within thine Urn;  
O may thy purer soul for ever, even  
For ever rest in th'empyreal Heaven.  
The End of the fourth Eclogue.   

ECLOGUE V Treating of the Behaviour of Rich men towards Poets; Entitled CANDIDUS.  
The Argument  
Sylanus here the Poets dull  
And sluggish life doth disallow.  
But Candidus complains at full  
How Poets are contemned now.  The Speakers▪ Sylvanus and Candidus. Syl. 
O Candidus, once thou didst use to feed  
Thy  here with us; and on thy reed  
Didst warble out among our Country Swains  
In these cool shades sweet songs, melodious strains;  
Ear-pleasing witty verses; and withal  
Wast wont to wrestle stoutly for a fall:  
But alt'red now, as if thou didst dearest  
The Shepherds Calling, and the Country's rest,  
The Pastures leav'st, thyself dost idle keep,  
Suffering thy Songs to cease, thy Pipe to sleep.  Ca 
You that have wealth enough at home, whose kine  
Strut with full Udders, whose white flocks resign  
Each milking their full Dugs, whose Milk like snow  
Fills full the Milkpails with its overflow.  
You whose fat dinners on the Table smoke,  
Our verses praise; if any thing be spoke  
More witty, 'tis applauded, and you lend  
Your well-pleased ears with joy: but while we spend  
Our verse in vain (by which we want to live)  
Some flattering praise, and empty words you give,  
But nothing else: Meanwhile the Poet's poor,  
Thirsts, hungers, starves with cold, even at your door.  Syl. 
Why, canst not heed thy flock, and versify  
When leisure is; and, casting sorrows by,  
Led on a pleasing life exempt from care?  Cand. 
He that's a shepherd must no labours spare,  
But all his care about his flock must stay,  
To go, to come, to chase the Wolves away,  
T'enclose his Cottage with an hedge, to buy  
Fodder and straw for's sheep, himself t'apply  
To seek food for himself: which done remains  
But little leisure for Poetic strains.  
Sylvan, a commendable verse doth task  
All our endeavours, all our wits doth ask:  
Both these, to Poetize, and sheep to feed,  
Are grand employments, and my strength exceed.  
When I did sing, I thirsted; but (accursed)  
None gave a cup of drink to quench my thirst:  
Some mocked, and said, Thy Cloak is overworn,  
Thy knees are bare, thy rough-grown Beard's unshorn.  
O Candidus, Now leaveless were the Trees,  
Cold Winter made the whited Mountains freeze.  
I stormed, grieved, scorned: Victual for us and ours  
Devours up all; Male-lambs and wool devours;  
Our Female-lambs we fold not, but for breed  
Reserved them: And because on Milk they feed,  
Because we kept them for the flocks supply,  
Our Ewes we milked not; so their dugs grew dry.  
I now repent my wit, if any part  
Of wit I had, I now repent mine art:  
My life reputes me; sigh among so many  
Resplendent stars that nightly shine, not any  
With favourable influence doth shine  
Upon mine head, nor to my good incline.  
Thou knowst I sang till now without reward;  
My youth not much in want, but little cared:  
But the condition of old age, which since  
Hath seized upon me, makes a difference  
Far greater, and doth render me more poor,  
More wanting necessaries then before,  
More weak my strength (that strength which doth remain)  
And so cuts off all hopes of future gain.  
But what I gained in youth, I must with speed  
Make use of (now's the time) to serve my need.  
Behold the little Pismire, prudent Creature,  
And provident, doth by th'instinct of Nature  
Within her hollow Cells, while Summer lasts,  
Hoord up new Corn against cold Winter's blasts:  
And lest her hoarded Corn the ground hid under  
Should grow, she bites it with her mouth asunder.  Syl. 
They the Nativities can calculate  
Do know (they say) the Stars of each man's fate:  
For under Mercury they Poet's place,  
And under Jupiter the Royal Race  
Of Kings and Potentates: Jove's influence  
To these gives gold and rich magnificence;  
To those doth nimble Mercury devise  
Wit, Language, Music, Art to Poetize;  
These things are thine: Why seekest thou riches then?  
God all things doth divide amongst all men  
As most is for their good. O then ('tis best)  
Go with thy lot content; leave us the rest.  Cand. 
Thou riches dost possess, I verses have;  
Why then Sylvanus dost my verses crave?  
Why dost intrude upon another's part?  Syl. 
I nor thy verses, nor Apollo's art  
Desire to take from thee; but I desire  
To please mine ears with thy melodious Lyre,  
With thy sweet sounding, sweet resounding verse.  Cand. 
If this thou wish, 'twere fit we did commerce;  
That as (Sylvanus) thou my verses haste,  
I of thy riches so might have a taste.  Syl. 
He tastes my wealth that loves me: but the kind  
That envies, hates; and with malignant mind  
Repines at others goods, at others good.  Cand. 
My verse might thus be likewise understood  
Enough by thee, though far remote I, and thus  
Thou shalt of verses have enough from us.  
Verse is our ears, Cheese is our mouths repast;  
If thou thine ears wilt please, then please my taste.  
This Love, this Piety, this God commands:  
God gives not all men all things in their hands,  
Because none should suppose he doth exceed,  
But one another's succour we should need;  
Which doth all Nations join through th'Universe,  
French, Moors, Italians, Spaniards, in Commerce.  
Let's join our stars; make Jove on me reflect,  
And Mercury shall with benign aspect  
Reflect on thee; shall give thee matchless things,  
His Hat, Rod, Harp, Herculean Knot and wings.  Syl. 
Thy language with unnecessary words,  
Too many vain and foolish things affords.  Cand. 
Thou sayest that all things vain and foolish be,  
That in thy riches seem t'indamage thee:  
But if thou wilt my Muse, my Verses hear,  
Rouse up thy drowsy mind and make it clear  
From worldly cares: A Verse desires to find  
A cheerful heart, a clear, a candid mind.  
But I dejected, frigid, indisposed,  
With hunger stupefied, with wants enclosed,  
Am circulating like a hungry Kite;  
My mouth is scorched with thirst, my skin (once white)  
Long since grew black and withered; in my Fold  
I have no , in my Purse no Gold,  
No Corn in Field: And (I thus poor and bare)  
Wouldst have me live secure, exempt from care?  
This Medicine is no cure for my distress;  
Come, make me merry, cloth my nakedness,  
Provide me food, my weak old age supply;  
Thou then shalt hear me sing and versity.  
Well furnished houses, Cellars full of wine,  
Full vessels, flagons full, full food to dine,  
Barns full of Corn, fair flocks that bear the Bell,  
Full bags of money; These all cares expel.  
Then in December, in those winter nights,  
To sit before the fire it much delights,  
And there in th'ashes (for a sporting trick)  
To plough up furrows with a little stick;  
To roast ripe Chestnuts there, and them all over  
With embers till they roasted are, to cover;  
With full filled glasses of refined wine  
To quench our thirst, to please our taste. In fine,  
Among the merry spinning Maids to sit,  
And hear them tell a Tale, and laughed at it.  
Great Tityrus himself (as Fame doth ring)  
By learned Maecenas patronised, did sing  
More lofty strains of Farms, Fields, , Wars,  
And with his high raised notes did reach the Stars;  
Dame Fortune gave him eloquence: But us  
Poor weak Plebeians, all bepatched thus,  
Disguised with leanness, fed with coursest grain,  
The Muses shun, Apollo doth disdain.  Syl. 
If Fortune, as I hoped, my wish would grant,  
I would, O Candidus, supply thy want.  Cand. 
I would to God, Sylvanus, that thy will  
Were but as prompt, as forward to fulfil  
Thy promises, as thine estate doth rise  
Now great enough to give my want supplies.  
I seek not Cosmus riches, nor desire  
Silk garments, Kingly fare, nor Cloaks of Tyre.  
I hunger not for Aesop's costly dish,  
Nor for Minerva's Buckler is my wish;  
The Palaces I need not of that King,  
To whom his iron coloured Beard did bring  
A Name; or else if I mistake it not,  
That name by's brasen-coloured beard he got.  
These things long since (I now remember well)  
I learned of learned Umber in his Cell.  
I but apparel ask, I seek but food  
Within some little Cottage: This more good  
Will do then wealth, if of this I were sure  
It would with me, while life endures, endure.  
Pythag'ras' Table, Codrus householdstuff  
Let me but have, and I shall have enough.  
Oft have I found some that some hopes did show,  
Magnificent in words, in deeds but slow:  
But I on thee depend, on thee but one;  
If thou deceive me, than my hopes are gone:  
I then shall mute, I tongueless shall become,  
As in the Solstice Philomela is dumb;  
Then on the Posts our arms we may suspend,  
The Play house shut, and give the Shows an end:  Syl. 
O Candidus, hast seen the City Rome?  
Hast seen the sacred Synod thither come  
Of Bishops? where so many Poets are:  
Where such abundancs is of things so rare,  
So beautiful? O 'tis a thing of ease  
To gather wealth in such fair fields as these.  Cand. 
Thou dost mistake, Sylvanus, if thou think  
I covet to be rich: The Wolf doth drink  
Raw blood, doth eat raw flesh; and thinks indeed  
All other  as he feeds, to feed.  
Thou faulty, thinkest others in thy fault,  
And halting on the foot that thou dost halt.  
I seek not to be wealthy, but to live  
Content with little, let them to me give  
I shall contented be with meanest fare.  
Rome's Palaces I saw; but dost suppose  
That ever Rome did profit me with those?  
Dead is Augustus (ah) and in his Urn  
Never, O never hither to return.  
If Rome give any thing, she gives but babbles;  
She takes our gold, and feeds us with her fables.  
At Rome (alas) sole Money now doth sway,  
virtue's exiled: but we must hope they say.  
And now through all the world (Augustus dead)  
Poor Poets only with vain hopes are fed.  Syl. 
Come, speak of fights, men's famous acts recite,  
Speak of the Wars of Kings and men of might;  
And when thou speakest, apply thyself to them  
That Sceptres hold, and wear a Diadem,  
That govern Kingdoms; Thou mayst find (perchance)  
Among them some that will thy state advance.  Cand. 
I them shall find that will me scoff and scorn,  
Our Poesy lies now so much forlorn,  
And hath as much respect as have the Stews;  
Why, O Sylvanus dost provoke my Muse?  Syl. 
It is not seemly to provoke or wrong  
A Poet with foul words, or lavish tongue.  Cand. 
I cannot, I, but speak the truth; but if  
Thou wouldst the truth should be concealed, in brief,  
Provoke me not with words unfitly spoke.  Syl. 
To give good counsel is not to provoke.  Cand. 
I'm rich in counsel, but most poor in gold;  
How shall so poor a Poet then unfold  
Fights, famous acts of men, and wars of Kings;  
So poor a Poet, whose whole In come brings  
Not means enough to buy a knife that's fit  
To cut a Pipe aright with holes in it?  
See what a ragged sheath my knife is in,  
The pin's dropped out; (it is not worth a pin)  
Look on my knife which from the sheath I draw,  
It's edge is full of teeth, and like a Saw.  
This yet were nothing; but where food is scant,  
It is a great intolerable want.  
Good Counsel strengthens, but bad breaks one's heart,  
Weakens the strength, the courage doth subvert.  
Great men will blush to give a gift that's small,  
And great they will not give; so none at all.  
Add, that our Kings a verse as much affect,  
As Northern winds the frondent leaves respect.  
Or as the Southern winds indulge the Seas;  
Or as cold-nipping frosts the Vineyards please.  
Beside that Kings themselves inur'd to leisure,  
Pleasing their senses with delights and pleausre,  
What things they most affect, th●y most approve:  
Hence wanton verse is made of lustful love,  
Of scurrilous discourse, of Ganymeds'  
In Stews, of sloth, of most infamous deeds;  
Which for a modest Poet to dispense  
Were sinful, were a capital offence.  
But they whose warlike hands with Sword and Shield  
Have fought pitched Battles in a bloody field;  
Who manlike armed in steel their foes controlled,  
And not effeminately sat in gold,  
Loved the grave Muses: And those noble Kings,  
Whose potent hands achieved heroic things,  
Heroic Verses loved: But when (in fine)  
Those valiant men, those Spirits Masculine  
Were once declined, no subject than was found,  
Which Poets in their lofty strains might sound.  
Then fell the Poet's wit, than Poesy  
With all her lofty strains did ruined lie.  
But if perhaps some King should now prepare  
For bloody Wars, should muster up with care  
Well armed Forces, should with hot Alarms  
Fierce Battles fight in honourable Arms:  
If careless of his honour, he neglects  
His Fame in Foreign Lands, or disrespects  
Ages to come, contented with such praise  
As present times and his own Subjects raise,  
Not valuing t'immortalize his Name  
By Poets, in the Registers of Fame;  
He's barbarous, and Verses doth detest,  
Or covetous, and doth himself inchest  
Together with his gold, where drowned he lies,  
And with the burning cares of Midas fries.  
And there are some that dare on Kings intrude  
A rude, Malignant, rustic multitude,  
Of jesters, wantoness, Parasites, Compliers,  
Adulterers, Stageplayers, Scoffing Liars,  
These all hate virtue; these a thousand ways  
Drive Poets from the King; as from their preys  
Crows drive all other beasts and birds, when they  
Have found a new fallen Carcase for their prey.  
And there some lawless, saucy Poets are▪  
Who rudely bred without a Master, dare  
What Kings affect (and Kings sometimes affect  
Ignoble things) in their weak dialect  
To write, to register; for Poets too  
Are mad sometimes; and these make much ado,  
I know not with what levity of mind,  
To pass for Poets; These, when once inclined  
T' apply their mouths unto their trivial reeds  
Themselves applaud, and boast their verse, their deeds,  
Unelegant, conceitlesse, of no prize,  
Indocible, improvident, unwise.  
He that to these vain fellows hearkens much,  
Thinks the fault common, thinks all Poets such;  
So leaves the learned Poets; wanting skill  
To know the true from false, the good from ill.  Syl. 
I by the Gods, and by the Olympic powers  
O Candidus do swear, if Fates of ours  
Successful prove, I will thy wants supply,  
Mean time, till better times, live happily.  
Refuse not then a little while to join,  
For both our future goods, thine hopes with mine.  Ca 
If thus to me thou wish, I wish again  
Thou, O Sylvanus, mayst thy wish obtain.  Syl. 
I wish indeed, and long it shall not be  
Before I true performance make to thee.  Cand. 
Go with a mischief, never to return  
Most avaricious wretch, and quickly burn  
With Midas Fever, quickly turn to gold  
Like Midas whatsoever thou touch, or hold,  
Or take, or taste; sigh in the base esteem  
Fair virtue, fouler than vile gold, doth seem.  
The end of the fifth Eclogue.   

ECLOGUE VI Treating of the difference between Citizens and Husbandmen. Entitled CORNIX.  
The Argument.  
Cornix describes how different  
The Citizens and Rustics be:  
Then taxeth in his argument  
The various Fools of each degree.  The speakers Cornix and Fulica. Co. 
NOw winter snows, the Northern wind doth roar  
The Frozen icicles hang o'er the door;  
The Ploughman with his Oxen take their rest  
The ground's asleep, and lies untilled, undressed:  
The shepherd in his russet Coat doth close  
The sheepfolds, and doth sluggishly repose!  
Smoky Neaera sits before the fire,  
And pottage boyles; first Summers' heat did tyre,  
But now 'tis praised: And winter praised then  
Doth now displease, and is dispraised again.  
Inconstant thus the present times abhor  
That cold, which once they wished and hoped for.  Ful. 
Good things expected seem more great, but less  
That good is thought, which present we possess:  
As at a distance burning lights appear  
Greater afar, and lesser when more near.  Cor. 
Each season hath it pleasures, hath its joys,  
Look how the rough and ragged coated boys,  
Uncombed, undressed, rejoice when hogs are killed,  
They take the Bladder, and till it be filled  
With wind, their swelling Cheeks do puff and blow  
The Bladder like a Belly: Beans they throw  
Into the Bladder, than it shines and sounds,  
They toss it up, and catch it at rebounds:  
Now with their feet they kick it; by and by  
Their arms embrace it: if aloft it fly,  
With stretchtout Fists they meet it, and again  
Repel it: if it fall, they run amain  
And mount it up; so toiling at their play,  
Running, returning, winter's worn away:  
The Country Football thus doth overcome  
The winter's cold; but we sit here at home  
In better case, under a warm thatched roof)  
Where (while the cold aloft is kept aloof)  
We pass the time, and warm ourselves the while  
Before the fire, until the milk do boil.  Ful. 
Cold winter doth our Poverty declare;  
Doubtless we young men all imprudent are,  
And all improvident; while Summer lasts  
We careless walk, forgetful of the Blasts  
Of winter, all our Coin we cast away  
Upon a fiddler for a little play.  
But when the Northern wind returns with Frosts  
From the Moscovian or Scythian Coasts,  
The trees unclothing, when the naked trees  
All leavelesse show the birds nests built in these,  
We naked then are pinched with cold, our back,  
Feet, shoulders clothing, Food our bellies lack.  
Winter declares our foolishness; more wise  
Are Citizens, their heaps of money rise,  
They warmly clothe themselves, and fur their Coats  
With skins of Foxes, Lynxes, Lambs, and Goats.  Cor. 
All men are mad; nor are we sole in fault:  
Yea rather greater madness doth assault  
The Citizens themselves; but yet in this  
Fortune their mother, our Stepmother is.  
If hapless Fortune us oppress, our Fate  
Is madness then: make me but Fortunate,  
I shall be rich, I shall the chiefest be  
Within the City, all will rise to me,  
Will listen all: The vulgar then will stand,  
And men of middle rank with Cap in hand,  
They me will honour; all the multitude  
Will ask my Counsel: and there will intrude  
Upon me for advise the Magistrate,  
The People, and the Senators of State.  Ful. 
O Cornix, Cornix: 'tis not Fortune: 'tis  
The wiser soul of man that acteth this:  
Fortune can none or great, or happy make,  
'Tis God that doth it; as Amyntas spoke.  Cor. 
Why, Fortune is a God; but tell I pray  
What did Amyntas of this matter say?  
For he was wise and learned, he did know  
The cause of things above, of things below,  
But yet, a little  thou tell, go see  
The Fodderstalls, and how the Cattle be:  
Go quickly, quickly come; and heat thee so:  
Heat after cold's more sweet; go quickly, go.  Ful. 
The snow's so deep, it reacheth to my knees:  
Our houses scarce will bear such loads as these:  
A towering pile, on yonder Chimney's head,  
Sharp pointed, mounteth like a Pyramid.  Cor. 
Give Fodder to the Cattle in the stalls,  
Stop up with straw the Chincks about the walls;  
Which done, make fast the doors, make sure the Fold,  
Nothing doth hurt the Cattle more than cold.  
What art already come? Oh, what's this haste  
So much unwonted, that thou comest so fast?  Ful. 
Winter me careful makes in frost for fire;  
But 'tis more strenuous, and I more desire  
To make my lodging in the warmest hey:  
There in an hollow bed myself to lay,  
'Tis comfort after cold: I need no sheets.  
That bed is full of heat, is full of sweets.  Cor. 
Begin, and what the  manners are  
Of Citizens and Country men declare.  Ful. 
Thus then, this difference in each estate,  
Which did those two so much discriminiate  
Began, as our Amyntas did relate.  
In the beginning when things first began,  
The great Creator, God, Created man;  
And with the woman joining him in love,  
That glorious Maker of the skies above  
(For thus Amyntas called God; this name  
I well remember yet) willed them to frame  
Themselves to generate a noble breed  
Of Children, taught them how to raise their seed.  
They fall to work, and faithfully fulfil  
The Lords command: and would to God they still  
Had kept it, and not broke it, as they did  
By tasting the apples of the Tree forbidden.  
The woman is a Mother now become,  
Brave boys and girls did issue from her womb,  
And fruitful she by Childbirth every year  
A Child or Children, did successful bear:  
So that she multiplied the generations  
Of mankind by those frequent Propagations.  
The Lord returned when thrice five years were spent;  
The woman as she sat within her Tent  
Dressing her Children, looking out before  
Perceived him coming, almost at the door.  
Adam was absent: He secure did seed  
His bleating Flocks, no base adul'trous breed,  
No foul adulterer was suspected then:  
But woman afterwards conjoined to men  
By multiplied Marriages, the Trust  
Between them broke, and was deceived by lust.  
Then Goats were made without apparent horns,  
The jealous husband than suspects and scorns  
His chaste (perhaps) his loyal wife: Thus they  
That others wrong, think others them betray.  
The mother blushed: and doubting jest (in fine)  
Her many Children were a pregnant sign  
Of too much Lust: with speedishe puts aside  
Some of her Sons, and them with hay doth hid,  
Stubble or straw: The Lord by this time came  
Into the Tent, blessed all within the same:  
Woman, said he, produce thy children here,  
She than commands her eldest Sons t' appear.  
God smiled upon them as we use to smile  
On pretty Birds, or little whelps: the while  
He smiling said unto the first of them,  
Take thou the Sceptre and the Diadem,  
Thou shalt be King: The glittering sword and shield  
With other warlike weapons of the Field  
He gave unto the second: Thou, saith he,  
A Duke, and Captain in the wars shalt be.  
The people's Axes, and their rods of broom,  
The gentle Vine, the darts of famous Rome  
He then produced, and on them all a row  
That then were visible, he did bestow  
Those noble gifts: when God had thus bestowed  
Among the children there that then were showed  
The Regal Rule, the places of command,  
The Magistracy, silent he did stand,  
Weighing those honours he conferred on Man:  
Mean while the woman glad that things began  
So luckily, with speedy posture runs  
Unto the sheepcoats, and from thence her Sons  
Which there were hid and under Fodder laid  
She voluntary brings: and thus she said,  
These also be my Children, O no less  
Almighty Father these my Children bless.  
Their bristled heads were white with chaff, with straw,  
With Cobwebs foul their shoulders: which when saw  
He did not smile on them, but casting down  
His troubled looks o'erclouded with a Frown,  
You smell (said God) of stubble, earth and hey;  
Yours then shall be the Goad, the Spade, the Clay,  
Your share shall be the Ploughshare, yours the yokes,  
Yours all the Tools of Tillage, Carts, Wheels, Spokes.  
Some shall be Ploughman, some shall oversee  
The Cattle, some of you shall shepherds be.  
Some shall be mowers, some shall dig the ground,  
Some Seamen, others Herdsmen shall be found.  
But some of you we'll make of Cities free,  
Yet you but Butchers shall or Butchers be,  
Bakers or skullions, or the like by Trade  
Accustomed to be sordid, only made  
For daily labour; and (till death) at best  
You, servile, shall be servants to the rest:  
This said, th' Almighty reascended Heaven.  
Thus servitude was to the Country given,  
Thus, as Amyntas said, the difference ran  
Betwixt the Citizen and Country man.  Cor. 
I should have wondered if Amyntas spoke  
Aught that was right, or which for us could make:  
He was a Citizen; and City youths  
(That have no business but to forge untruths  
And foolish Fables) us incessant mock,  
And moke poor Country men their laughin stock.  
The Cities talkative and prattling vein,  
Such Fopperies and vanities doth feign.  
Nor do they blush to frame these trifling lies  
Of the Supream-supernall deities.  
This jesting with the Gods ('tis manifest)  
Is railing Blasphemy, no pleasing jest.  
But art so witless, do thy Tripes so swell  
Within thy belly, that thou canst not tell,  
Nor dost perceive that while with Censures sharp  
These carp at others, at thyself they Carp?  
But yet a little let's ourselves apply  
To note the City's Follies, lest thine eye  
Deceived (perhaps) with shows, shouldst these men hold  
More wise, more happy that in burnished gold,  
Rich Purple, or fine Scarlet glittering shine,  
I many men have seen with these mine eine  
In brave apparel with Majestic pace  
Walking about the public Market place,  
Whom secret hunger and domestic want  
Have sorely pinched, as if concomitant.  
Doubtless in this the greatest follies lie:  
For feigned wealth is real poverty:  
And what doth sloth of life, or sluggishness  
But madness in reality express?  
I likewise have some Fathers seen (O vile,  
Unworthy, wicked men) who, that the while  
Themselves may neatly live, may sleep and play,  
Their fairest daughters foully do betray,  
Do prostitute to men of meanest race  
In Brothel houses: what more bad, more base;  
What more perfidious, what more foolish ever?  Ful. 
But what it otherwise their best endeavour  
Can not support their lives with fit supplies?  Cor. 
Why, sigh they have as many souls, and eyes,  
And hands as we, why should they not, in sort  
Like us with fit supplies their lives support?  
And some there are who madly seek in vain  
For wealth, where yet no mortal wealth could gain  
From the beginning: they their brass and tin  
Wash with the juice of herbs, and then begin  
Their chemic distillations, and are bold  
To think t' extract from thence most perfect gold.  
But (ah) from thence no gold they can exhale,  
Their metal with black duskiness is pale.  
Some likewise are, that hidden gold to find  
Under the ground, the ground have undermined:  
Have used black Magic, and in enchanting spells,  
These time and labour lose, gain nothing else.  
What more uncertain, what more vain those?  
What ever did more foolishness disclose?  
These all things, that they Country work may fly  
All things I say will undertake, will try,  
And to do nothing, all things will pretend:  
These ever are beginning, never end;  
By sinful Usury they dare extort  
Their infamous supplies, their base support,  
Their hooks with force, with cunning, with deceit  
Of Food, of maintenance; and always bait  
A thousand ways for wealth, a thousand ways  
They seek for honours, how themselves to raise.  
We Country men keep Cattle, Goats, and Sheep;  
These dogs, hawks, horses, Apes, and Monkeys keep.  
The shepherd feeds his Flocks and hea 〈…〉 t these  
Feed Hawks and Hounds; judge now which most doth please,  
Which of these are more great, more noble things  
O Fulick? which most wealth, most profit brings?  Ful. 
If from our labours greater wealth arise,  
Whence then have Citizens such store of prize?  Cor. 
They gain by fraud, by cunning and by force:  
Force, cunning, fraud their labour is, their course.  
See'st not (thou fool) how cruelly they press  
Us husbandmen, what baits for us they dress;  
With what great craft they catch us? to provoke  
Our tongues to speak, what is not to be spoke,  
A sacrifice they think from them proceeds,  
Or else some pious, meritorious deeds,  
To compass which, still pressed at their command  
Are all their ears, their eyes, their mouths, their hands.  Ful. 
But how so well acquainted hast thou been  
With the conditions of the Citizen?  Cor. 
I learned this heretofore, when I my Goats  
Driving within the City from the Coats  
Sold there, my milk crying up and down.  
I sojourned with a Baker in the Town:  
A Crafty fellow, prompt to their, to guile:  
That underpared his half bak'd-bread with File.  
He skilful in the City manners there  
Related this: and did, affirming, swear  
That then the City, nothing doth reveal  
More mischief, that he there did learn to steal.  
And some there are, that having great estate  
Left by their Predecessors, or the Fates,  
On whores profufely spend them. O than this,  
What more obscene, O what more wicked is?  
Come, tell me where are murderers? where's the trade  
Of 〈…〉 oring used? where is sedition made?  
Is't not among the Citizen's resorts?  
Reign not those things within the City ports?  
What thinkest of Kings, that others Kingdoms gain  
By blood, that force their subjects to be slain?  
What of the soldier that dares oppose  
His breast to naked swords? that undergoes  
A thousand dangers, one that for his pay  
Hazards his life, or throws his life away?  
Then this no greater madness; seeming glory  
(Though momentary, though but transitory)  
To life's preferred: a little praise they prise  
Above their lives, above their liberties.  
But what is glory? what is praise? what's fame?  
What's honour but a vain, an empty name?  
'Tis but the opinion, but the voice, the vote  
Of the rude vulgar, which like froth doth float.  
These times to come will banish, will forget,  
All these will vanish when thy Life doth set:  
As when the setting Sun at night declines,  
The night comes on, the Light no longer shines.  
They that the Seas sail over when they may  
Live safe at land are fools: and fools are they  
That put their trust to water and to wind:  
So they that riches have, and have no mind  
T'imploy their riches are but fools; and those  
That for their children heaps of gold repose,  
But pinch themselves, and their own bellies cheat  
Are greatest fools: yet there's a fool as great  
That what himself might do, leaves to be done  
After his death by's successor or Son.  
They who the Stars observe, and thence their Fate  
Suppose to comprehend or calculate  
Are Frantic fools: and he's more mad that pries  
Into God's nature, or his secrecies:  
That dares upon that vast immortal light  
Fix his but mortal, and too feeble sight.  
Our faith is better: we believe by faith  
All that, though but in words the Scripture saith▪  
The Citizen doth scarce herein assent,  
Though forced with reason and with argument:  
And on the sacred Altars one may ken  
More Lamps of ours then of the Citizen.  
Their faith is faithless too: they daily set  
Their minds to search into the Cabinet  
Of God's decrees: But if't were fit to know  
Them, or his Person, God would please to show  
Himself and them: but sigh his will implies  
They should be secret, what necessitie's  
We should desire to know those hidden things  
Which are denied us by the King of Kings:  
And our devotion for all pious deeds  
The City Piety's excels, exceeds:  
For what abundance of all sorts of grain,  
Of food, is gathered in a day or twain  
From Country men, by those that ministering  
Within the Temple sacred Anthems sing?  
Myself have seen things so collected load  
Full ships, which sailed within the walls, and road  
Within the City's harbour: such the zeal  
Is of the Country for the Churces weal.  
And ther ' another kind of fools, a sort  
Immedicable, yet of great report,  
Lawyers, Court brawlers, pleaders of a cause,  
Skilled to gain money, Tyrants of the Laws.  
They sell their Patronage for golden pay,  
To trifle Causes out with long delay,  
To make them long depend with a dilemme,  
A vanity is, a Vintage is to them.  
Another kind of fools on horseback are  
Unlearned Physicians, Mountibanks that dare  
Touch veins, sometimes unlawful for to touch  
These on diseases (understood as much  
By them, as by their horses) will impose  
Some new found names, their rash advice to close:  
These, though they grope in darkness, ignorant  
Of what they do profess; yet have a grant  
Sick persons to torment, and at their will  
Unpunished, whom they cannot cure, to kill.  
They that are rulers of the people, they  
That govern others, making them obey,  
The more command, the more of power they have,  
The more insultingly they rage's, they rave.  
O where are pious Rulers now, O where  
Do pieties and justice Friends appear,  
Whom (once) our Father's sitting by the fire  
Were wont to name, remember and admire.  
All things go now to wrack: the Temple's spoiled  
Demolished, ruined, robbed, defaced, defiled,  
And of the wrongs complains: the poor lament,  
Sigh, groan: The widows weep with discontent.  
But what's the cause which doth these mischief's cause?  
Because base Lust doth rule in stead of Laws.  Ful. 
O Cornix, this thy fury doth transcend  
The bounds of honesty: thou dost extend  
All sins against all men; remember well  
Some harmless men even in the City dwell.  Cor. 
In certain fields (I now forget their names)  
Near Baleares Isles, no snake inflames  
With stinging: For no snakes inhabit there:  
Nor Owls in Crete, nor horses will appear  
In Arecina's or Aegeria's wood,  
Nor in City dwells a man that's good.  Ful. 
Good men rare creatures, virtues are most rare,  
And in few Cities, in few Countries are.  Cor. 
thou'rt mad O Fulica, thou'rt mad: For thou  
As many foes hast in the City now  
As there are Citizens: they pill and pol  
Poor us without respect, without control,  
Us they constrain to steal, and then they send  
Our bodies to the gallows to suspend.  
'Tis therefore just, nor is't against the Laws  
That whatsoe'er of theirs comes in our claws  
We gripe, we shave it: and from them, from thence  
What e'er we gain by craft or diligence  
To plume it lightly, softly by degrees:  
And if that any by misfortune sees  
The theft exceuse it, if unseen deny it.  
The theft that hidden is, no wrong comes by it.  
For whatsoe'er the Citizens possess  
Is all our labour, all our painfulness.  Ful. 
Thou rovest now, now the most equal line  
Of right and reason thou dost much decline.  Cor. 
O Fulica, the wickedness that reigns  
In Cities all the word defiles, distaines.  
Whence come in Summers' prime those horrid storms,  
Those floods, winds, hail, and water which deforms  
The verdant Earth? I well remember, I  
Have seen the trembling Earth a quaking lie,  
Posts shaking, houses sliding as affright,  
I saw the Sun by day, the Moon by night  
Eclipsed, obscured why do the tares over ' top  
The Corn, why spoil wild oats our harvest Crop?  
The Vince doth wires bear in stead of grapes,  
Unwholesome cloudy-weather blasts, mis-shapes  
The vernal flowers: and all these ills, this curse  
The City sins produce, and will bring worse.  
Whence come tumltuous wars, and horrid arms  
Which carry with them whatsoever harms,  
Whatever evil is? within the walls  
Of Cities, as from their Originals,  
As from their Fountains all these mischiefs spring.  
Lycaon was a Citizen, a King.  
Deucalion, with his beloved wife  
Fyrrha, were Country dwellers all their life.  
That brought the deluge, this removed the same,  
That ruin'd mankind, this did man reframe.  
If ever (as they say) these goodly frames  
Of skies, Earth, Seas, shall be consumed with flames  
This heavy judgement doubtless will come in  
For sins of Citizens, for City's sin.  Ful. 
O Cornix, let us put a period  
To this discourse: 'tis dinner time, and sod  
The pottage is: I heard the boy's  while  
Speak of the Pottage: if of City's guile  
There any thing remains unsaid, to say,  
Then speak it after dinner: come away,  
Let's go to dinner: 'tis an hour for meat  
we'll leave the Cities, and our pottage eat.  
The End of the sixth Eclogue.   

ECLOGUE VII. Treating of the Conversion of young men to Religion, when the Author began to take Religious Orders. Entitled POLLUX.  
The Argument.  
Here Galbula the Shepherd's praise  
Mounts to the stars; relateth how  
Pollux by sight of sacred rays  
Converts, and doth Religion vow.  The speakers Alphus and Galbula. Al. 
WHat thinkest O Galbula, that where of yore  
Pollux the best of pipers, and before  
The rest preferred, now suddenly retired,  
And, as't by some power divine inspired,  
His Pipes, Coat, Flocks and fellows he forsook,  
And to religious vows himself betook,  
His head doth wear an hood, his back a gown,  
Like a field Lark he looks with tufted Crown:  
Four days before he did himself confine  
To the religious Cloister, a divine,  
A sacred apparition, as alone  
He fed his Cattle in the pastures, shone  
Most clear about him, which (they say) he saw;  
And ever since from us he did withdraw.  
The rest I now remember not iwis;  
But what O Galbula, what thinkest of this?  Gal. 
As our forefathers did affirm long since  
(For I will utter things of consequence,  
Which learned Umber did of yore relate)  
In the beginning, when mans first estate  
God did dispose and order, he did will  
Some should be shepherds, some the ground should till.  
He that the ground first tilled, war rude, sharp, rough,  
Like the stiff-stony ground that checks the plough:  
But the first shepherd was a gentle child,  
Most like the sheep, the sheep (a creature mild)  
Which floweth milk, which are from choler clear:  
He (gentle) to no shepherd was severe,  
Oft from his flock he brought a sacrifice  
Unto the sacred Altar: There he fries  
A fatted Calf sometimes, sometimes a sheep,  
But oftentimes a lamb: He thus did keep  
A constant course of worship, that thereby  
He brought great honour to the Deity.  
He so prevailed with God, so well appeased  
The Godhead, that the Deity was pleased  
From the beginning to this time to fence  
All  with his careful Providence.  
God then some shepherds of Assyria chose,  
(The names I now remember not of those,  
Cares so distract my mind) made kings of them,  
And crowned them with a Regal Diadem.  
Those (after) clothed in Purple and with Gold  
I saw, they conquered Nations proud and bold.  
When Paris saw three Goddesses (with joy)  
In Ida's Mountain near to famous Troy,  
Or Paris, or some one, that would (alas)  
Have sacrificed his son, a shepherd was.  
When Moses, frighted with Celestial fire,  
Went bare foot on the ground to see, t'admire  
The wonder, Moses was a shepherd then,  
Moses, extracted from the wat'ry Fen.  
Apollo from his Throne deposed, exiled  
In Greece, and wandering up and down the wild  
Thessalian fields, a shepherd did abide,  
Laying the greatness of his state aside.  
When Christ was in the stable born, a Choir  
Of Heavens Angels, glorious in attire,  
Did to the shepherds in the sheep coats sing  
The birth of Earth's Redeemer, Heavens King.  
The shepherds having then that wonder heard  
Of Christ's diviner birth, did not retard,  
But ran with speed, the ground they lightly trod,  
And were the first that saw the Son of God.  
That little Infant, which on high doth reign  
Sole King of kings, did to those shepherds deign  
Himself, his Cradle to behold, before  
The Wisemen or the Kings did him adore.  
And God himself, himself a Shepherd styles,  
Styles those his Sheep, those men who free from wiles  
Are of mild nature, of a lowly mind,  
Of upright heart, to no deceit inclined.  
And lest these words of mine thou shouldst conceit  
As a vain dream, insolid, wanting weight,  
I'll tell thee more. As from the Town I came  
Into the Country, I beheld the same  
But very lately; I these wonders all  
Saw lively painted on a Church's wall.  
There Sheep were painted, painted were the Lambs,  
As if down lying by their bleating Dams:  
A numerous Troop of gallant horsemen there,  
Dismounting from a Mountain, painted were,  
Whose Coroents did shine with burnished gold,  
A noble gallant sight; which to behold,  
Detained all passengers with wondering eyes.  
No marvel then if of the Deities  
Our Pollux one might see: For those above  
Love Villages, they sheep and sheep-cotes love.  
God present is with simple, single breasts,  
But (with deceit displeased) deceit detests.  Al. 
Thou speakest the truth, if that the Pastures prove  
Unhurtful to the  of our Drove.  
I saw both Ox and Ass, and Fodder-stall  
With those brave horsemen painted on the wall:  
I now remember what I then did eye  
Presented there in rich Imagery;  
I seemed to see those Oriental Kings  
Presenting Gifts of Gold and precious things  
Unto the Babe. But one thing I entreat,  
O Galbula; which, if thou knowst, repeat.  
What Apparition was't, which did accost  
Our Pollux? Speak; think not thy labour lost.  Gal. 
I do both know it, and it likes me well  
To tell it: 'tis a worthy thing to tell  
A thing well worth our hearing, a relation  
Religious, holy, worth our imitation.  
A sharp hardhearted Father, and a proud,  
A rigid Stepmother, severely bowed  
Our Pollux in his youth; his youth, the time  
When sweetest sweetened thoughts are in their prime.  
And when incessant labour had at length  
Much weakened his infirm, invalid strength:  
When by no means or art he could assuage  
His Stepdames malice or his Father's rage,  
He did resolve to run away: but yet  
One thing his resolution long did let,  
And that was love; too passionate he moved,  
With too too much impatience he loved.  
Love is a Common Error, and appears  
With too much vigour in our youthful years.  
Love is a thing that's strong, but yet more strong  
Is violence of love, where lasting long.  
And when he was preparing to remove,  
(For he was used t'acquaint me with his love)  
With sad aspect, and lamentable groans,  
In these complaints he thus his love bemoans:  
O Virgin, will not brinish tears be shed  
From thy fair eyes, when thou shalt hear I'm fled?  
When thou shalt hear, that thou so soon bereft  
Of me so dear a friend, alone are loft?  
Wilt any sighs for my departure spend?  
Or wilt thou, cruel, me forget thy friend?  
What, can thy flaming breast so quickly freeze,  
That flaming breast of thine, which by degrees  
Inflamed by love, so many times have filled  
So many's eyes with tears for thee distilled?  
Wilt not thou frequent sighs and groans exhale  
From thy sad breast, and wilt thou not look pale?  
I see the Maiden's eyes, her tears I see,  
I see the sorrows of her heart for me.  
Alas, alas! what art can I invent  
To palliate so great a discontent?  
A double grief mine heart hath over-laid,  
One for myself, another for the Maid:  
But I may weep, she not: yet fire, that lies  
Most hid, more hotly burns, more fiercely fries.  
Ye Gods preserve her safe for me, for mine;  
That when mine exile past, I shall confine  
Myself at home, our (yet successless) love  
May once at least at last successful prove,  
Before old age too much come creeping on,  
Before the vigour of our youth be gone.  
Thus saying he went on; yet his desire  
Was to return, such is the force, the fire  
Of Love in youth: But now the Dice are thrown,  
And his resolved of flight to most was known.  
Tired out with grief and travel down he sat  
Under a frondent Poplar, consecrate  
To famous Hercules; and sitting there,  
Behold a comely Virgin did appear,  
Crowned with a Maiden Coronet; her face  
Hands, eyes, and habit Nymph-like, full of grace:  
And to lamenting Pollux thus she spoke,  
Wither (dear youth) dost travel? O betake  
Thyself to quick return; Return, I say.  
Thou knewest not, (ah) thou knowst not how the way  
Deceives, or whither 'twill thy steps misled:  
Yet (o) thou darest to wander, darest to tread  
In paths unknown, supposing no deceit,  
No dangers in these verdant fields await,  
Thou thinkest all safe; thinkest (like a foolish youth)  
What pleases profits, falsehood tak'st for truth.  
The stinging Snake collected in a round,  
Lies lurking in the grass upon the ground.  
Unwary persons soon are beguiled.  
When in the flaming fire the little Child  
His harmless finger thrusts, he thinks no harm  
Is in the fire, he thinks it will but warm,  
Until he fe●l it burn, and then by sense,  
He knows and fears the flaming violence.  
This way with pleasing entrance doth beguile  
The passengers, and with delightful smile  
Shows seeming joys: but entered in, when they  
Think there's no danger in that pleasing way,  
A thousand dangers, and a thousand snares  
Surprise them in their passage unawares.  
This path, assoon as yonder hill above  
thou'rt over passed, points out a shady grove,  
Where herds of wild and cruel creatures have  
Each one his darksome Den, his dismal Cave;  
This path leads thither: places for their scite  
Most horrid, darker than the darkest night.  
Who so deceived goes thither, is forbid  
Thence to return, but is in darkness hid.  
And first his eyes are hoodwinked with a rag  
Or fillet black as pitch; then him they drag  
Through all the woods, through stormy brakes, and then  
He's changed into a Monster from a Man.  
When he gins to speak, he roars or allows,  
When to lift up himself, he thinks he bows,  
And downward goes fourfooted on the ground.  
Unable to behold the starry round.  
The lower part of this black Valley shows  
A Lake, which Sealike with black water flows:  
Above which overhangs a mighty Mount,  
Where pitch-like waters run from cold black Fount.  
Those wretches hither drawn, are hurled from hence  
Precipitate with horrid violence  
Into the Stygian Lake, and deep Abyss;  
Where in devouring Whirlpools they by This  
Ingulph'd, immerged, are huried from the light  
T'infernal Styx, and Hell's eternal night.  
Alas, how many shepherd's wit their flocks  
Have been ensnared and perished on these rocks?  
I careful still unwearied here do stay  
T'assist, and to direct a better way.  
Delay not then, nor vainly spend thy breath,  
But O betimes of near approaching death  
The flattering Courts abandon: Fly from hence,  
Seek safer Coasts of better consequence,  
Upon the private shore that lies opposed  
To Cyprus, whence Mount Carmel is disclosed.  
Carmel that famous Mount, whose towering head  
With stately Cedars is environed.  
Here th'ancient Fathers (whom none parallels)  
Had at the first their first-retired Cells:  
Here were their houses made of frondent boughs  
Within the thicked woods where Ilex grows.  
And from this Mountain to your lesser hills,  
Religion was deduced; as brooks and rills  
Flow from an endless unexhausted Fount:  
And you from this Original may count  
A numerous, almost in numerous breed,  
Which from this one Progenitor proceed.  
In these sweet woods, where in abundance grows  
The lofty Fir-tree, where with unctuous boughs,  
The fat and oily Terebinth doth shine  
With sweeting Rosin, Pitch and Turpentine.  
When thou shalt happily thy life conclude,  
Thine age shall in a moment be renewed  
With change of years: Then I thee thence will bring  
To better places, ever flourishing:  
Thou shalt Immortal be, shalt from these clods  
Of earth, have fellowship among the Gods.  
Thou shalt have residence above the bright  
Refulgent stars, among the Nymphs in white;  
Among the Nymphs of Trees, the Nymphs of Hills;  
The Nymphs of Flowers, whence sweet perfume distils;  
Whose heads are crowned with odorif'rous flowers,  
With odorif'rous herbs; where thou the Powers  
That are above shalt see; where thou shalt know  
What heavens are above thee, what below.  
This said▪ the Virgin vanished out of sight.  
Then Pollux swore his mind was changed quite,  
And that he suddenly was disengaged  
From that (now conquered) Love wherewith he raged.  
As flaming fire if't chance to burn the fields  
Is quickly quenched, and to the water yields,  
When swelled with floods th'unruly River Po  
His banks doth overrun, or overflow:  
So cruel love expires, which oft in vain  
His Quiver empts on those, that with disdain  
Resist Loves first beginnings, and do prove  
But timorous, or but lukewarm in love.  
And Pollux, thus discharged of Cupid's fire,  
Into the silent Cloister did retire.  Al. 
Some men there are on whom the Gods do smile,  
Yea though the men unwilling are the while:  
And some there are whom th'angry God's assault,  
Although without a cause, without a fault.  Gal. 
What power over  we possess,  
Th'Immortal Gods have over us no less.  
This is enough for Country men to know;  
Let Cities higher soar, and wiser grow.  
Janus the Priest so taught, when as he came  
Out of the City, and affirmed the same  
Was on Record in a volum'nous Book,  
Where it he read, whence he that doctrine took:  Al. 
The Sun is setting, and doth scarely gild  
The top of Baldus: Come, let's leave the field;  
'Tis time to leave it with the setting Sun.  
Come Galbula, think not thyself undone  
To carry Bag and Bottle home at night;  
The Bag and Bottle emptied are but light,  
To carry both at night the labour's small,  
theyare ponderous in the morning, but withal  
theyare profitable burdens. Prithee come,  
My work shall be to drive the  home.  
The End of the seventh Eclogue.   

ECLOGUE VIII. Treating of the Religion of the Country men, Entitled RELIGION  
The Argument.  
The Mountains Candidus, the dales  
Alphus commmends: then Candidus  
The Virgin's praise and Festivals  
That came to Pollux doth discuss.  The speakers Candidus and Alphus: Ca 
THe torrid Earth (O Alphus) now the Sun  
Shines in the Summer's solstice looketh dun  
Gaping for thirst: and now the the scorching blaze  
Warns us to drive our Cattle hence to graze  
Upon the mountains, where less heat doth fry,  
Where moyst'ning dews upon the grass do lie.  Al. 
Those ay'ry Mountains, and high tops of hills  
I see far off; but what from thence distils,  
Or what the mountains are (to speak the truth)  
I know not; For I always from my youth  
Have dwelled in vales; But tell, what fruit abounds,  
Or what's produced upon those hilly grounds?  Cand. 
O rude, and unconceited witless head;  
What, wast thou born, and hast been ever bred  
Near brooks like more-hens, or in slimy vales,  
Whence Phoebus such offensive Fumes, exhales  
Where in the Bogs among the stinking weeds,  
Among the Willows and green paper-reeds  
That grow within the banks of foggy Fens,  
Frogs, gnats, flies, worms have lurking holes and dens?  
And darest thou then deride or vilipend,  
The Mountains, from whose flowing founts descend  
Such famous rivers? from whose Marble Mynes  
Such many pieces for the Temples shrines  
Are hewed and polished? whose rich veins enfold  
Rare Metals, whence is digged refulgent gold?  
What grounds but mountainous bear fitting trees  
For shipping? what bear Physic herbs but these?  
Upon the top of Baldus heretofore  
Oft-times I gathered have black Hellebore.  
No Medicine is more Physical, more fit  
For Goats then this; Aegon commended it:  
Aegon the Valsasine, when in the Spring  
He gelt his Lambs and Swine, prescribed this thing;  
He then prescribed it, and thus said, Apply  
This for a sole and certain remedy.  
Come, tell me where more Chestnuts are, or where  
Is greater store of Acorns than are there?  
Upon high Mountains I myself have seen  
Clear Springs of waters, Pastures fresh and green;  
I there have Pasties ear, and from the pot  
Have filled myself with pottage fat and hot.  
strong people there inhabit, there the youth  
Is vigorous, and of gygantick growth:  
Their feet are large, like brawn their shoulders hard;  
Their stiff nerved arms strong sinews strongly guard;  
Hairy their skins, hands rough, for service able;  
To carry burdens indefatigable.  
They from those Valleys to these Mountains high,  
Resort, and to the Naval works apply.  
No kind of men will fit the Town so well,  
Whether you  geld, or Timber fell;  
Whether you cleanse the Stables, or the draught,  
Or kitchens, or stopped gutters that are fraught  
With sordid filth, or whether to descend  
With longest ladders to the lowest end  
Of deepest wells to cleanse them; these herein  
Are expert, and for strength the wager win.  
But what need many words? themselves they fit  
For any labour, and accomplish it.  
In kitchens some are Cooks, some make the fire,  
Some turn the spit, some climb a little higher,  
And sweep the Chimneys; others carry forth  
Beefs bellies to the rivers: but their worth  
Excels in this, most skilled they be to keep  
Foul places clean, foul houses clean to sweep.  
And, which I more admire, they run, they come  
Under their burdens as not burdensome.  
This people in poor Cottages are born,  
They live on steep hills sides among the thorn;  
And with the Goats inhabit as their guests,  
In horrid Dens of wild, of cruel beasts.  
Add here, that from the tops of Mountains high  
'Tis a short passage to the starry sky:  
Some Mountains with their lofty Crests aspire  
Unto the Clouds, some other mounting higher  
Transcend the Clouds, and with their proud ascent  
They touch, I think, the spangled Firmament.  
There is a place (they say) that Eastward lies.  
Where from the seas the morning Sun doth rise,  
Which (if I have ic not forgot too son)  
With its aspiring top doth touch the Moon;  
And that long since a man there lived and dwelled,  
But for his gluttony was thence expelled,  
Because that he devour d all th'Apples there,  
And none reserved for mighty Jupiter.  
Hence the divine and holy Fathers chose  
Retired houses, places or repose  
Among the Mountains: This do well attest  
Carthusia, Carmel, Gargan; with the rest  
Athos, Laverne, Laureta, Sina ' Mount,  
High topped Soractis shady vale and Fount,  
Those Mountains famous by the fact and fate  
Of old Nursinus, and that hill of state  
Towered Camaldula, whose sacred head  
With lofty Fir-trees is environed.  
The rest I pass: for 'tis not mine intent  
To speak of all in this short argument:  
Celestial Creatures towering Mountains haunt;  
Whereas the Duck, the Goose, the Cormorant,  
The Snipe, the Bittern, Kites and moorish hens  
Are ever paddling in the foggy Fens.  Al. 
Among these praises of so great renown  
With which thou dost the craggy Mountain's Crown,  
Why speakest thou not of corn, or of the vine?  
Yet these two noble creatures Corn and Wine  
Are the two chiefest Pillars, whose supply  
Supports Man's Life in his Mortality.  
The Mountaineers as soon as corn is shorn  
Descend their hills into our vales for Corn:  
Men of a rigid and severe aspect,  
Of smoky colour, rustic dialect,  
Lean, hairy, ragged, thirsty, full of wants;  
The places nature's's known by the Inhabitants.  
But now thou speakest of religious halls  
Upon the Mountains, it to mind recalls  
The strange reports we did of Pollux hear:  
What Nymph, or O what Goddess did appear  
To Pollux, tell (O Candid) if thou know  
From our discourse of hills and vales doth grow  
No profit: but the benefit is great  
When of Religion our discourse doth treat.  Cand. 
Thy Galbula, that wont with thee to keep  
To drive to grass the Cattle and the sheep,  
Can satisfy thy wish, thee could acquaint  
With th' apparition of that Nymph-like Saint  Al. 
He many things of Pollux did unfold,  
But of that Saintlike Nymph he nothing told:  
Nor I (as I remember) did inquire:  
But talking of Religion now doth fire  
My soul, doth to my mind that Nymph recall,  
Whose praise I count the greatest praise of all.  Ca 
She was no Goddess of the Mounts or trees,  
Nor of the Muses: she was none of these:  
But she dismounted the supernal skies,  
Queen Regent of Celestial deities:  
She mother of the mighty Thunderer,  
Descended Heaven, that she might confer  
Peace to the gasping youth; at her command  
Tethys and Ceres as attendants stand,  
And Aeolus himself, that strongly binds  
In darksome Caves the ranging raging winds.  
Her, God above the stars, above the Sun,  
Above the glittering Constellation  
Of Cassiopeia hath lift, hath bound her Front  
With Oriental stars encircled on't:  
And that she might eternally be graced  
The silver Moon under her feet he placed.  Al. 
O Candidus, thou speak'st of wonders rare,  
Unheard, unknown of Shepherds; but declare  
What's Tethys, what's refulgent Cassiopeia?  
Who's Aeolus whom all the winds obey,  
That bridles up the winds in concave cells?  
What are those horses of the Sun? come tell's,  
Great matters and unknown thou dost unfold.  Ca 
Some part of them are stars, some name of old.  
All which when Pollux had me showed and taught,  
Within a sacred Temple he me brought,  
Where all these things were painted on a wall:  
This wall (quoth he) thee will inform of all.  
The wall was painted, gilded curiously  
With many Pictures, much Imagery;  
I do not all remember, dull and weak  
My memory's become: though I now speak  
I scarce remember; though I often fit  
My mind to ponder, and reponder it.  
Oft to consider, and remember well,  
More strong than Physic is, or Magic spell.  
When with dark Clouds the skies are masked in black,  
This Nymph can clear the Clouds, or chase them back.  
She the dried fruits, half dead for want of rain,  
Can with refreshing showers revive again,  
She from the parcht-up pastures when she will  
Can raise fresh founts, can rain on them distil,  
And those raised founts, or rain distilled she can,  
When ere she please, restrain from fields, from man.  
Of barren grounds that bore no grass erewhile,  
She when she will can make a fertile soil.  
When that cold Planet, that malignant star  
Of luckless Saturn culminates so far  
As Scorpius, and in that dismal sign  
Hath entertainment with his pallid shine,  
No storms of hail the Corn shall spoil, no fire  
Shall houses burn; though, when those stars conspire  
Th'incensed heavens (as they say) such scars  
Dejaculate on th'earth from th'angry stars.  
All this that Virgin-Nymph (her Sex's Gem)  
Can keep from us, and us preserve from them  
If she but favour us, our harvest Crops  
Shall fill our barns and garners to the tops.  
And all the pregnant  of our flock  
Shall bring forth Twins, and multiply the stock.  
If  thrive not, or their fleeces shed,  
She, solely with the nodding of her head  
Can Milk, Fleece, Lambs restore; can with her art  
The  cure, and each disease divert.  
There's how no need to follow rustic Pan,  
Or any rural Gods, which foolish man  
Did (as it is reported) heretofore  
With much devotion, but in vain, adore.  
In Circle of the Nymphs rich Altar there,  
Wax Pictures pendant were, which shapes do bear  
Of Goats, Wanes, Oxen, Sheep; I did denote  
And view them well; I there saw Janus Goat  
Modelled in wax; and I remember, I  
Read on a painted Tablet (hanging by)  
Inscribed thus in Verse, Here view the vote  
That Janus paid for his preserved Goat.  
And while I this read over by degrees,  
Pollux devoutly falling on his knees  
Upon the Marble pavement strait before  
That Altar; he the Nymph did thus implore,  
O Goddess, Governess of Towns and Franks,  
We pray thee let not Po swell o'er his banks:  
Let not, O let not the Nocturnal Hag  
Our tender Infants through black darkness drag:  
Let not Hobgoblins, nor the walking Spirit  
Frequent our streets by day, nor house by night.  
O Goddess, favour Husbandmen, destroy  
The Moles, whose heap'd-up hills the fields annoy:  
Remember (Nymph) when winter sharply blows  
To cover all the Corn with dews, with snows.  
O let no Vermin when the Corn is shorn,  
The next ensuing year devour the Corn.  
The Northern winds from growing Figs restrain;  
From Cranes the Beans, from Geese defend the grain:  
From Serpent's Oxen, from the subtle Fox,  
The subtler thief, preserve our herds, our flocks;  
The fruits from Canker, Vines from hail and storms;  
From Wolves the  keep, from herbs the worms:  
Our Dogs from madness, from fierce flames of fire,  
From Lightning keep our Villages entire.  
Our Bacon from the Mice and soldiers keep;  
From worms, and from the things that slowly creep,  
That slowly creep (alas my stupid mind  
Hath lost the rest, forgets what's left behind.  
But verse hath often to my memory)  
Reduced forgotten things: I'll turn and try  
Those measured numbers, I by them may chance  
Oblivion, chase, remembrance readvance)  
Our Bacon from the Mice and soldiers keep,  
From worms, and from the snails that slowly creep  
Our gardens guard; (seest Alphus, seest thou not  
The force of verse; I've got what I forgot,  
And now remember all the rest in fine)  
From roaring thunder keep our Butts of wine:  
From cold our Ewes with young when frost do freeze,  
Our Calves and Cattle rescue from the Breeze;  
Our hogs from swelling Squinzies in their throats;  
From loss of labour in their rural Coats  
Assist O Goddess our inurbane swains;  
O from the drone among Bees that drains  
Their honeycombes defend the Bees; Defend  
Our Pease from thievish birds; thine help extend  
To keep the Fleeces of our sheep from rhorne,  
From Burrs to keep our wool unshorn or shorn.  
O Goddess, O of men the governess,  
Poet's Protectress, easer or distress,  
Griefs medicine, Patroness of Flocks, of Cotes  
I pray thee grant our Prayers, grant our votes.  
Thus Pollux prayed; I leaning to the post  
Casting my stretched out leg my staff acrost,  
Marked well his words; and with great care uplaid  
In my remembrance all the words he said.  Al. 
O Candidus, thinkest not that some reward  
Pollux should have for his so great regard,  
For's pious prayers, for's religious love?  
Our goodness doubtless doth goods improve,  Cand. 
Why should we not give him something for it?  
That we should cratefull be 'tis very fit.  Al. 
Rustic; Thou cratefull dost for grateful call.  Ca 
Cratefull between and grateful th' odds is small.  
We must give something; yet lest twice we give,  
Let Easter pass, what time the Priests do shrive  
Offenders, and absolve them from their crimes.  Al. 
What shall we give (a Calfe's too much these times)  
A Lamb, or Hare? Our piety's intent  
Is laudable, if but a goose be sent.  Cand. 
The season shows the gift: when winter's snow  
Stops hares from running, than an Hare bestow.  
A goose with Autumn and November shapes:  
The Summer gifts are Filberts, Apples, Grapes.  
A sucking Kid or Lamb are for the spring:  
Then if thou dost perceive a whinderling  
Among the late fallen Lambs, that doth not thrive,  
That will not well be sold nor kept alive,  
We'll give that gift; That gift when  it falls  
Will well enough befit their Festivals.  
And after dinner when my leave I took,  
He gave me verses, copied from a Book  
Of all the Virgins solemn Fasts and Feasts;  
Thus saying, when Corroding care molests  
Thy mind, these verses sing: and thou shalt find  
These verses medicines for thy care-sick mind.  
When Titan from the Lion doth decline,  
And headlong enters into Virgo's sign,  
Let age and youth rejoice; the virgin's plumed  
With Angels wings, is to the Gods assumed.  
Thrice eight days after she forsook this Earth,  
Another feast is solemnised, the birth  
Of that unspotted Virgin: then with fires  
Her Altars flame: the Priest adores, admires,  
Offers new sacrifices: whiles the Sun  
Returns to Libra, where he swift doth run  
Preparing t' aequiballance days and nights,  
Picenum then exults with new delights:  
Epirus ships transport (with swelling pride)  
Their Epirots on th' Adriatic Tide.  
The Tuscans, Vmbrians, Venetians then,  
With those of Sicily bring wares and men;  
All which in multitudes with gifts from home  
Unto the Temple of Lauretta come;  
Where having paid their vows, they joyful rise  
And on the lofty Mountain Merchandise,  
And when the Sun his longer course doth vary,  
And in a shorter enters Sagittary:  
When the tempestuous Northern wind bestrews  
The frigid fields with hoary Frosts and dews,  
The Vestals to their private Cells confined,  
Forgetting their own Parents, only mind  
The Virgin Saint, and with their whole intent  
Her sacred presentation represent.  
And when the Sun from half-horse-Chirons bow  
Flies languishing, and enters (as below)  
The winter's sign of Icy Capricorn,  
Let men and women than themselves adorn  
In rich apparel, let them then begin  
To celebrate with joy that day wherein  
The Virgin was conceived, that holy day  
The sacred Nymphs beginning did display:  
Who from her first beginning, from a child  
With base Immundities was not defiled.  
When scorching Phoebus all inflamed doth fly,  
To cool his heat in humid Aquary,  
Returning towards, and now near the spring  
All ye that married are go speedy, bring  
To the Altars sacred fire, and to the fire  
Bring Frankincense; exalt your torches higher:  
Be pompous and triumphant, for this day  
The Virgin in the Temple did display  
Her Motherhead: strange things did then betid,  
A Virgin mother there was purified,  
When Phoebus enters Aries, the Flocks  
Conductor, shining with his golden locks,  
Beginning to disclose the new-come year  
With western winds which blow more warm, more clear,  
More hours adding to the day than night,  
Let then the winged Paranymph inlight  
The Virgin's house, and those strange things he said  
Annunciate unto the wondering Maid.  
This Festival the people draws by flocks  
From Arnus river, and the Tuscan rocks  
To solemnize it, at the Virgin's shrine,  
Within the Temples of the Florentine.  
And then, but yet not long before that tide  
The Virgin was espoused, and made a Bride  
This holy day the maiden Nymphs doth call  
To celebrate this solemn Festival.  
When the refulgent Sun is entered in  
To Cancer, and the dog-star doth begin  
To breathe diseases, then sweet incense burn  
To celebrate that day, which did return  
The Virgin-mother home, from visiting  
That other mother: then to the Altars bring  
First fruits of corn, and hang them round the Rood  
In honour of the double Motherhood.  
These Verses Pollux gave which he did write,  
When in the fields he watched his Flock by night,  
When in serener Nights he did survey  
The glittering stars, heavens armies in array.  
He than more verses gave; but now no more  
We can repeat: the Sun below the shore  
Declines; bright Hesperus gins t' appear  
Suppressing Phoebus from our Hemisphere.  
The End of the eighth Eclogue.   

ECLOGUE IX. Treating of the manner of the Court of Rome, written by Mantuan after his entering into Religious orders; Entitled FALCO.  
The Argument.  
When Faustulus had well surveyed  
Rome's frigid Pastures, he gins  
To tax the Pastors (unafrayed)  
For their enormities and sins  The speakers Faustulus and Candidus. Fa. 
WHat chance, O Candidus, thee brought so far  
From thine own Country to this place? here at  
No brooks, no Pastures, no refreshing springs,  
No sheepcotes safe, no cooling shadowings:  
And yet those grounds are daily grazed by sheep.  Cand. 
O Faustulus our Coridon did keep,  
Great droves and herds of Cattle here, while ere  
Much gaining by the Cattle he did rear;  
And he persuaded me that on these hills  
Grew wholesome grass, that here were pleasant rills,  
But when I once perceived these barren Mounts,  
These craggy Rocks, these water-wanting Founts,  
That I did leave my Country, that I went  
So long a journey, I did much repent.  Fa. 
Sith 'tis thy chance so safely with thy droves  
To travel unto these Italian groves,  
Thou mayst by right of former friendship come  
Unto mine house, and make mine house thine home;  
Here some few acres of poor ground have I,  
Which scarcely will my livelihood supply:  
What e'er it be, betwixt thyself and me  
Suppose it common; thou perhaps mayst see  
Some lucky fortune; fortune like the wind  
Though variable, may to good be inclined.  
Until the scorching heat doth overpasse,  
And while our Cattle, lying on the grass  
In the cool shadow, chew their Cud, come in  
My Cottage, thatched with sedge; on yonder pin  
Hang up thy scrip, thy shepherd's crook lay by,  
Sat down a While; with drink refresh thy dry,  
Thy thirsty throat; drink's needful, come, assay  
This liquor, 'twill thy burning heat allay;  
Here take thy cup; do not thy drink decline,  
Our tongues will be more fluent after wine.  Cand. 
What mad man in such heat will drinking spare▪  Fa. 
Wind cools the thirst, and frees the mind from care,  
Wine, Friendship, and the body's strength augments,  
Contents the taste, abandons discontents.  Cand. 
This Country bears good grapes, if that the vines  
Within this Country grow that made these wines.  Faust. 
Come, fill thy cup again, it is no waist,  
To drink one draught of wine is but to taste,  
The second moists the mouth; the scorched throats,  
The third refrigerateth; the fourth denotes  
Arms and Alarms to thirst the fifth doth fight;  
The sixth doth conquer; and (as some do write  
As old Oenophilus doth well relate)  
The seventh over thirst triumphs in state.  Cand. 
'Tis safe to follow sound advice; 'tis good  
I embrace grave Councillors (if understood)  
My thirst is quenched; but there remains behind  
My care-corroded heart, my pensive mind.  Faust. 
It's wine allayes● thy thirst, so 'twill in sine  
Alloy thy pensive mind; come, fill thy wine,  
Come fill thy wine, and drink this medicine cures  
The grief of heart, against all cares ensures:  
This medicine Rome itself doth use as chief  
Against corroding care, consuming grief.  Cand. 
Each work and labour hath its intervals  
Of rest, and for repose and Respite calls:  
Let rest the flagon here a little while,  
And cover it; lest it the flies defile.  
No rain by day, no dew by night's here seen,  
Nor in dry Cottages can herbs grow green.  
Fierce famine, daily labours, scorching air  
With leanness do the Flocks impeach, impair:  
Their fainting spirits scarcely can sustain  
Their feeble bodies: their thin buttocks strain  
Their stretched out bones within their arid hides;  
Their empty bellies clunge up to their sides  
Contract their hollow Bowels: see this Bam  
More fearful now then is the fearfullest Lamb,  
More weak than is a sheep, was wont of yore  
With head and horns the wolves to beat, to gore.  
All which the luckless Crow, with hapless prate  
Dvining, did to me prognosticate.  
But me my fervent votes too much did sway:  
I scarce was out of doors upon my way,  
But that unlucky bird with sad portent  
Flew from my right, and to my left hand went,  
And sat a top on the sinister side  
Of my poor Cottage; where extending wide  
Her craking throat, she did-forbid thereby  
My journey with apparent Augury.  
Ah hapless cattle, which were wont t' abound  
With Milk and young, when in your native ground  
You grazed and fed; now seeking grass in vain  
You lose more juice by going, than you gain  
By feeding; here both we consuming are,  
You with bare pasture, I with bitter care.  
O riches of our Country! O the Meads  
Still flourishing! O grass that overspreads  
The Frondent fields! O pastures past compute;  
O Fertile soil, and never wanting fruit!  
There crystal brooks and running Rivers glide,  
Watering fields, gardens, Towns on every side.  
There are fat Cattle, Fertile fields are there;  
When Sol in Cancers Tropic doth appear.  
When every where the thrashing floors resound;  
When July burns, our fields with green are crowned;  
The chequered hedges made of tender twigs,  
Bear berries there and Apples, grapes and Figs:  
There spring among the thorns sweet smelling flowers;  
O the delightful shades of woods and bowers!  
O the soft whispers, gentle murmurs there,  
Which (I remember) thou and I did hear  
In the cool shadows of the Turtles groans,  
The swallows chattering, and the tuneful tones  
Which musick-making Philomela did sing,  
When first the shrubs with grasshoppers did ring!  
The gentle air by leaves of trees increased  
Breathed pleasing murmurs from the blushing East.  
There the wild Cherry trees producing berries.  
Spread out their branches laded all with Cherries;  
I lying on the ground, saw where I lay  
The skipping cattle to rejoice and play;  
I saw the frisking Lambs leap here and there,  
And butting with their horns to run Carrere.  
When slept, I had upon the grassy ground,  
Sometimes with face erect my Pipe I'd sound,  
Or with my voice would sing; sometmes i'd pick  
The ripened strawberries which the●e grew thick.  Faust. 
Thou then mightst happy live, then fortunate  
Thou mightest be called; but that thy good estate  
Decause thou then didst underprize (For thou  
Bidst never of misfortunes taste till now)  
Thee therefore thy good fortune left; but when  
She comes again (if e'er she come again)  
As with their wires Vines on all that's near  
Catch hold, and closely to th' next elms adhere:  
So catch her fast, nor lose her caught: her face  
She changeth oft, she comes and goes apace,  
She's never constant; like Nocturnal hags  
Who walk (they say) by night disguised in rags  
Through dismal shades; and as her face doth vary,  
So doth her mind rejoice when things miscarry.  
What she did give, she takes; nor doth she advance.  
Her acts with judgement, but doth all by chance  
She doth repel, repulse, despite, despise  
All those that are too fearful, or too wise.  Cand. 
As oft as on my memory recoil  
The delicacies of my Native soil;  
So many tortures in contented sort  
I cannot bear. But whither doth transport  
Me my disquiet mind. Now, ' drenched with gall  
Of sad misfortunes, I to mind recall  
My former happy times; which thoughts do vex  
My pensive soul, and me do more perplex.  
Now May comes in, and in my Country now  
The lowly Brooms, the lofty vines do blow  
Along the banks of Po, the pastures sides  
Where Mincius with silvered water glides:  
There now the Corn is eared; with blossoms red,  
Pomegranate trees now there are all bespread:  
The frondent Alder there (this month of May)  
Doth sweet-white Flowers on each hedge display.  
But here as yet the Mountains are not seen  
Beginning to bud forth with any green.  
And if the ground so backward proves in spring,  
What will cold winter and hot summer bring,  
When hoary winter doth cold frosts repeat,  
And Summer's Solstice burns with raging heat?  
Yet here some herds of smooth-skined cattle are,  
Whose soft unwrinkled necks the yoke ne'er bore,  
Whose lofty Front aspires with double horn,  
Whose wanton breasts on dainty beds are born:  
Unless these Fodder eat that's good, that's choic'st  
Their bodies cannot be so fat, so moist.  Fa. 
This herd of Cattle that advance their Crest  
Higher than th'earth, and higher than the rest  
That have long jointed thighs, devour up all:  
First grass, then leaves of trees, anon the tall,  
The topmost branches of the greenest groves;  
But these poor Cattle, these enfeebled droves  
That only graze the ground for their repast,  
Are in these barren fields compelled to fast,  Ca 
But what need words? all creatures are the same,  
For still the greater do the lesser tame.  
Wolves feed on Lambs, Eagles on Pigeon's prey;  
The Dolphins in the Seas course, chase away  
The smaller fishes. How comes this about?  
A most prodigious thing it is no doubt.  
If thou these places at a distance ken  
From some high Rock, thou wilt suppose them then  
Fat pastures, full of grass: but come more near,  
More bare these places, and more base appear.  Fa. 
Rome is the same to men as is an owl  
To birds; she sitting as the Queen of fowl,  
And proudly nodding on some withered stock  
Calls multitudes of Birds, which thither Flock  
All ignorant of fraud; where in amaze  
At her foul head, great eyes and ears they gaze  
They wonder at her hooked beaks threatening top  
And on the branches while they skip and hop  
Now here, now there, the Nets entangle some,  
The limetwigs others; all that thither come  
Are overcome, are made the Fowler's prey,  
And to be roasted, thence are born away.  Ca 
O this is pretty; nor at any time  
Can any thing be spoke more fit, more prime.  
But O look yonder where a snake doth thrust  
Himself with crooked wind through the dust,  
And thirsty with his thrust out tongue doth beat  
The liquid air, to cool his scorching heat.  Fa. 
O Candidus, what I forewarn thee now  
Remember well: when thou the go'st through,  
Guard with thine hat thine eyes, for there the brakes  
Extend sharp pointed thorns which by't like snakes,  
Whose crooked Brambles cloaks and  do tear:  
Lay not thy sheephook down, nor yet forbear  
To bear hard stones, and arm thyself with those,  
Lest on a sudden thee new foes oppose.  
Cover thy feet with shoes: for there the brakes  
Are full of horrid and envenomed snakes;  
Whose bitter bitings kill: and now more long,  
More hot the days, their poison is more strong.  
A thousand wolves, as many Foxes dwell  
In dens within these vales; and which to tell  
Is strange and fearful, I myself have seen  
(This climate is so violent and keen)  
Even men themselves transformed into the shapes  
Of wolves, and wolf like acting cruel rapes  
Of their own Flocks; and O with too much blood  
Of their own Cattle drenched, as with a Flood.  
The neighbourhood observe and laugh at those,  
But nor detest the sin, nor it opposee.  
And Monsters oft in wondrous forms appear,  
Which th'ill aspected Earth produceth here.  
And oftentimes the dogs so madly rage,  
That they with cruelties, with bloody strage  
Outstrip the Wolves themselves; and they which wont  
To guard the Flocks, and thence all vermin hunt,  
Are vermin turned, and hostilely prepared  
Devour those sheep which they themselves should guard.  
Egypt (as't is reported) heretofore  
Some certain Beasts did for their Gods adore:  
Their Superstition, yet is less than ours:  
Here, not some certain beasts, but all have Towers,  
Fanes, Altars; doubtless a most hateful thing  
To God and nature: who made man a King,  
And subordained (as histories record)  
All earthly Creatures unto man their Lord.  
And oft a sickly Summer enters here,  
Which doth produce a pestilential year:  
Then in the field the fainting cattle lie,  
Cast down and dead: the Lambs do bleat and die  
Under their mother's Udders; Oxen tyre,  
Suppressed with heavy burdens, and expire.  
Nor hath the sickness mean, nor cure the Pest:  
But this house doth that house infect, infested,  
The next house from the next attracteth death:  
And thus the plague gains daily strength and breath.  
This plague wild Beasts doth yet but seldom kill,  
But sweeps away the better Cattle still;  
The wolves with sharpened teeth and ravenous throats  
Keep Festivals within our sheeplesse Coats:  
And with our losses are these beasts enriched.  Ca 
Alas, alas; what fury me bewitched?  
What headlong madness hither poor me drew?  
Great madness 'tis to credit, to pursue  
Deceitful fame: when I but understood,  
But heard of Roman hills, of Tiber's flood,  
Of Rome's fair buildings (by the mouth of Fame)  
My mind was all inflamed to see the same,  
And there among so many things of praise  
To spend the short remainder of my days,  
I madly came with half my Flocks; my Tents,  
My shepherd's tools, mine household implements,  
My milk pails, pans, pots, kettles, beechen vates,  
Wherein the maid her Cheeses circulates,  
Over high hills I brought: and now my cost,  
And now my labour all at last is lost.  
O whither shall I turn? what shall I do?  
The pastures which I brought my cattle to;  
The Fodder which I hoped for, is denied:  
So many chances are on every side,  
So many dangers; I must (in distress)  
Return into my Country, must confess  
Mine ill-advised attempt, and must retreat  
Over stony Mountains through laborious heat.  
Ah hapless sheep; O shepherd, from afar  
Misguided hither by some luckless star!  
Much better had it been t' have never known  
This Country, but t' have stayed within thine own;  
Securely there in some refreshing Cave  
T' have spent thy days till age brought on thy grave,  
And there to sit, and there thy Flock to feed  
With wholesome grass which our rich pastures breed  
Along the banks where silver Padus glides,  
Or where fair Athesis from Trent divides,  
Verona's soil; Or in the fields more green,  
More known, where crystal Mincius runs between,  
Or where swift-running Abdua doth dance  
On glassy waters to the Realm of France.  Fa. 
thou thine, and me mine own credulity  
Doth oft deceive; I've seen men mounted high  
Upon the top of Fortune, when their pride  
Would higher climb to tumble down beside  
Their expectation, and could never rise.  
Experience makes men wary, makes men wise;  
These try before they trust; they follow not  
All specious things; the better things have got  
The letter praise; there where (I do confess)  
Some that their names retain, their Fames no less.  
All things do by vicissitudes excel  
Those Cities whereof Umber used to tell,  
Troy, Luna, Adria, Salvia have but names,  
Time hath expunged the rest of all their Fames.  
If (now perhaps) our Country doth decrease  
In greatness, yet her goodness doth not cease.  
There's none in all the world but knows how great  
Rome's glory sits in her majestic seat;  
Indeed the fame thereof remains alone,  
But all the former benefits are gone.  
Those unexhausted Founts which wont of yore  
To water all these pastures with their store,  
Want water now themselves; their arid veins  
Exhausted are; no cloud upon them raines.  
No grounds here Tiber waters with his Flucts;  
Consuming time our ancient Aqueducts  
Hath totn in pieces; Time (that all devours)  
Hath ruined all our Castles, all our Towers,  
Hence, hence; O far, far hence ye Goats avaunt,  
Here's only pining Famine, pinching want.  
Yet (as 'tis famed, and as ourselves have seen)  
Here dwells a gallant shepherd on a green,  
Who from a Princely bird his name derives;  
One rich in sheep and pastures, one who thrives,  
Who for his verse th' old Poets doth excel,  
And Orpheus, that Orpheus, who from Hell  
Fetching his wife, attracted with his song  
The trees and stones to follow him along.  
He for all virtue, for all pious deeds  
All other Latians excels, exceeds,  
As much as Po doth Tiberis excel,  
Or as sweet Roses stinking weeds for smell;  
As Abdua Macra, or as willows high,  
Low Bulrushes, tall Poplars, Organy.  
We count him like that Prince, to whom of yore  
Learned Tytirus for twice six days (or more)  
The sacred Altars smoked with sweet perfumes;  
he's keeper of the sheep, no wolf presumes  
To worry them; more watchful he's, more wise  
Than Juno's Argus with his hundred eyes,  
Then Daphnis he's more learned; and not alone  
More learned than him, but than that leaned one  
Who kept ('tis said) of old among the swains  
Admetus' herds in the Thessalian plains.  
He's worthy to take charge of all the breed  
Of Salenus Master, worthy to succeed  
That venerable Father, who to keep  
Th' Assyrian Flock, to feed th' Assyrian sheep  
Forsook his nets, forsook his ship, forsook  
His All; and to the sheep himself betook.  
He can the Flock defend, can cure their wounds,  
Can madefie the drought of parched grounds,  
Fresh pastures he can give unto the Flock,  
He can the Fountains open and unlock;  
The Favour he can impetrate of Jove,  
And from the Flock can thiefs and wolves remove.  
If he the favour stay; But, if he frowns;  
Hence (Candid) with thy sheep to better downs.  
The End of the ninth Eclogue.   

ECLOGUE X. Treating of the Controvesies between the observant and non-Observant Friars, written by Mantuan after his taking Religious Order; Entitled BEMBUS.  
The Argument.  
The Poet now the difference  
Of false and true Religion notes:  
And rightly doth distinguish thence  
Yhe sheep of Carmel from the goats.  The speakers Candidus, Bembus, Batrachus, Myrnix. Ca 
GReat discord (Bembus) hath arose between  
The shepherds of the Galilaean green,  
And the rough Mountaineers of Palestine;  
To this side Batrachus doth most incline,  
Myrmix to that; their arguments are fit  
For disputation; both, themlselves submit  
Unto thy Judgement; briefly they'll declare  
Their Arguments, that thou thine ear wilt spare,  
And if no greater business thee withhold,  
Thou Father art of Prophets, knowst of old  
To settle brawlings, discords to compose,  
And with fair language foul debates to close.  
Thou likewise (as 'tis Famed) haste drank the wine  
Of Hippocrene, hast seen the Muses nine,  
Those Goddesses who keep that sacred Fount,  
Eurotas Laurels, and Parnassus Mount,  
Hast seen where self Apollo with his boughs  
Offrondent Laurel did surround thy brows,  
Where many gifts he did on thee confer,  
His harp, his Lute, his Ivory dulcimer.  Be 
Come, freely speak; sigh now this freez'ng day  
Compels us by the warmer fire to stay;  
While winter bars our Flocks to range the grounds,  
While Boreas his frigid blasts resounds,  
While bitter frosts benumb the better soil,  
While Icicles hang dangling at the tile,  
While Rivers with their frozen waters keep  
Their dull and drowsy Channels, as asleep  
Under their Icy pavements; we condemn  
All leisures which no business act in them.  My. 
We shepherds, hapless men, in summer's shine  
Walk straggling; careful lest out Flocks should pine;  
But when cold weather makes us keep within,  
Then discontents and brawling-strifes begin.  Ba. 
They that presume authentic Rites to change  
At their own pleasure, and themselves estrange  
From Laws observance, these those parties are,  
O Myrmix, who beget domestic war.  Be. 
And is your strife about the authentic rites,  
The customs of (those ancient Proselytes)  
Your Fathers? Then, O Batrachus, declare  
What are those rites, and what those customs are.  
Declare why from Phoenician soil you came  
To this our Country; I well knew the same,  
I saw those Pastures, I those fields have seen  
With unexhausted moisture clothed in green.  
There from the top of Carmels' Mount doth spring  
A Fount of Crystal waters, watering  
With bubbling streams the thick adjoining woods.  
I saw the River Jordan, in whose Floods  
That great and famous shepherd, heretofore  
His sheep immerging cured their cureless sore.  
This River rising, running down the sides  
Of Libanus, with full filled current glides  
Along the Galilaean fields, and makes  
An ample Sea with it's conjoined Lakes:  
And running thence again, it makes again  
With its united floods a spacious Main,  
Near to that City, which (as stories Fame)  
Tiberius Tiberia's did name:  
And running thence again, at length it falls  
(Leaving behind the Jerichonian walls)  
Into th'infamous Lake Asphaltites.  
By this, and by such other things as these  
'Tis proved enough that we these Coasts have seen;  
This speak, and end at length your strife, your spleen.  Myr. 
Bold Batrachus doth still himself obtrude  
With brazen face, and more than rashly rude,  
Prefers himself to me with great ostent.  Bat. 
I nor obtrude myself, nor argument,  
But, as commanded by the Judge, proceed.  Bem. 
Lay down thy sheephook Myrmix, and (with speed)  
Thine also Batrachus lay down; your parts  
You must not plead with arms, but upright hearts.  
Speak Batrachus; Myrmix the while forbear,  
That you may better answer what you hear.  
He's mad that's choleric; and he that's mad  
Is of so much impatience, is so bad,  
That not his heart he can, nor tongue restrain,  
His acts are foolish, and his words are vain.  Bat. 
Bembus, I will relate, I will recall  
Our Ancestors and their original,  
We from Assyria came, as Candid proved:  
Elias is our Father, we removed  
All kind of ill from shepherds with strong arms,  
Who fire from heaven brought with heavenly charms  
Of fervent prayers. Thither and, or higher  
Ascended in a Chariot of fire.  
A Noble this, this is an ancient Line  
Of famous Parentage, almost divine.  
All other shepherds wheresoever inlived,  
Are but as Rivers from our Founts derived:  
We gave thrm Laws, we taught them thou'rt to breed,  
To feed their flocks; they then muchmore exceed  
In sin, who being Prime in Order lose  
Their Primacy, while unadvised they choose,  
And inconsiderate attempts pursue,  
We roots, boughs, others are: and we ('tis true)  
Are also boughs which from the root did sprout  
Of our forefathers, now with age worn out.  
Elias to the shepherds gave a sure,  
A never-erring art, whereby to cure  
Their crazy flocks, whereby to learn to know  
What fodder hurts, what storms or winds did blow:  
Of healthful, of infectious years he told,  
Omitting nothing that concerned the fold.  
But that same fountain which did flow while-ere  
From Carmels Mount so Chrystaline, so clear,  
With changed current ('tis apparent) now  
Doth Southward run, where Eastward it did flow  
In times of yore; th'old channel yet is seen.  
These Innovators (changing what hath been)  
Have made new courses, have that old forsaken,  
Which our forefathers wisely gave the brook.  Myr. 
What's that to thee, whether the rivers source  
Run in a newer or an older course,  
So that it overflowing overspreads  
With fertile waters the contiguous Meads?  
And why dost of heaven's Clime complain? The sun  
His daily race in Southern skies doth run;  
The Vine that Southward grows best wine distils,  
Best Grapes are gathered from the Lybian hills.  Bat. 
And those best Ewe-trees are that northward grow,  
A River therefore best should northward flow.  
A shepherd art? and (mad man) careless grown  
Of thy poor flock (as if 'twere not thine own)  
Thou talk'w of Vines; as if an equal line  
Did regulate a flock, and dress a Vine;  
As though thou didst not know, or couldst not find  
A difference in waters, grass and wind;  
And what ill winds unto the  blow  
From Southern Climates, learn of Rome to know.  
If South-winds hurtless be, why then, O why  
Are Modens fleeces of a dusky dye?  
Why snowlike white is all Clitumnus breed?  
Why for fine wool do Mantua's flocks exceed  
All other sheep? And why's Verona's fleece,  
Next unto Mantua's, the fined piece?  
Whence come those multiplicities of things  
In various forms? The reason (doubtless) springs  
From nothing else, then from the divers kinds  
Of operations in grass, waters, winds.  Bem. 
I prithee Candidus hence quickly take  
These shepherd's sheep-hooks; I perceive they'll make  
Fierce wars this day: Take them in private hence,  
And hid them under yonder sedgy fence.  Bat. 
Bembus, I speak to thee; while heretofore  
We lived together, which our  bore  
One common mark, alas, what shame, alas,  
How many mischiefs did our  pass?  
Unlawful 'twas our sheep to wash, to shear  
At the first seasons (as 'tis used) of th'year:  
The thorns unfleeced, and naked made our sheep,  
The briers tore their naked backs with deep,  
With bloody scars; their skins with scabs were rend,  
Consuming humours made them pestilent,  
And ulcers all their bodies o'er did creep.  
It therefore much concerns what herbage sheep  
Do feed upon, what kind of waters they  
Do drink, and in what region they stay.  
Come, tell me, Myrmix, tell me why the wool  
Hath lost its former colour? once less dull.  
What gave unto the flock these fleeces new?  
Why are those  of a blacker hue,  
Which brighter were in better times? 'tis strange:  
Their manners changing made their fleeces change.  
Bembus, I now to thee return; and will  
Endeavour brevity: but I'll distil  
The truth, that so the sentence thou shalt give  
May merit honour and for ever live.  
The judgements thine: I will the truth pursue;  
A true relation makes the judgement true.  
Pondering these mischiefs, able scarce to bear  
So many losses which so frequent were,  
We came unto the Fountain, and from thence  
To search the River was my providence.  
Thy providence, O Myrmix, was the while  
To look a Birds Nest, or in Hunter's toil  
To take a frisking Gore, or nimble Roe,  
Fit gifts to give to thy beloved Froe.  Myr. 
See'st Bembus with what open scoffs he jeers?  
This matter I suppose (as well appears)  
Hands must decide, not tongues; and 'tis my wont  
With blows not words to batter such affront.  Cand. 
To speak the truth, O Batrachus, thy tongue  
Runs faster than is fit: Thou dost him wrong.  
Bad language whets on choler; scoffing words  
The mind embitter, cut more sharp than swords.  
Thou dealest not with a Child, nor think we can  
That Myrmix is an undervalved man;  
'Tis danger to speak what should not be spoke,  
And men with saucy language to provoke.  Bat. 
Excuse me, Myrmix, I did mean thine Aunt:  
But, by what error a Concomitant  
I named, know not: Pardon my mistake.  Myr. 
I pardon it: But yet beware thou make  
No more mistakes: Beware, provoke no more.  Bat. 
A stream of running water leaping o'er  
A lofty Rock, delved with its fall a Lake,  
Whose penned up waters did a level make  
Within the Banks: The Lake with darksome trees  
Was overshadowed, and under these  
Briars and Thorns thick growing in a brake  
Did round enclose the melancholy Lake.  
A thousand shapes of ven'mous things I spied  
Within the Lake, a thousand more beside  
Crawling along the banks, along the brim  
Of those black waters up and down did swim:  
A thousand more did through the would decline  
Unto the Lake with motion Serpentine.  
Amazed, in haste back to the Coats I ran,  
And with my three toothed fork I there began  
To turn the straw: when O behold, a Snake  
Erects his head, and doth great hissing make.  
With his threeforked tongue, his jaws were swelled:  
A Scorpion his envenomed claws upheld;  
A Toad big bellied crawling there I saw,  
And a fell Viper hissing in the straw.  
O fatal places, said I, not alone  
Fatal to sheep but shepherds; I'll be gone.  
Forthwith my flock dividing, I forsook  
That dismal place, and my sad self betook  
To seek out better pastures; and I led  
New Rivers from the Fountains first found head  
Through that old tract, and in those fields, those ways.  
Where first the rosy-coloured Morn displays  
Her blush, when Phoebus at his re-ascent  
Inflames the Saffron-tinctured Orient.  
Here fruitful were my , Pastures here  
Were flourishing, the bubbling waters clear,  
Unstained with filth, and undefiled with mire:  
These are the places, whither did retire  
Our sage forefathers, here they first did dwell.  
The ruins yet are extant of their Cell:  
Old wells of water, rotten Posts of wood  
Pitched in the ground, which there divided stood  
seven foot apart; an hearth for fire, an hall  
Surrounded with a ruinated wall.  Myr. 
Inconstant men affect new-fangled things;  
New Pastures therefore, and unheardof Springs  
Thou seekest and feign'st; and dost these things devise  
An author to be deemed of Novelties.  Bat. 
Grave men affect their own; which is the cause  
Why Myrmix too too much himself withdraws  
From gravity: This newness is not new,  
But most authentic oldness, solid, true:  
Religion, practised in the pious lives  
Of our forefathers, now restored, revives:  
Which too too foully was corrupted, both  
By thine own looseness, and thy Sects known sloth.  
If therefore ruin'd houses one rebuild,  
Or of a barren make a fruitful field,  
Shouldst thou be Judge, he shall condemned be.  
Another Tree we plant, but yet that Tree  
Which fruitless was we prune, and on the stock  
Which was grown old (and barren like a block)  
We graft new Ciences, and with our care  
Make fruitful that which fruitless was and bore.  Myr. 
Though there thy  eat fat-feeding grass,  
And drink untroubled waters, yet (alas)  
Too many Lambs there with their Dams are dead,  
Whose Carcases have Wolves and Ravens fed.  Bat. 
These I confess, these  which have ta'en  
The pestilent infection of thy bane,  
Infect beholders even from far: so much  
Of poison's in them, and the force is such,  
Such and so great of your envenomed art,  
That more and more I wish from hence to part,  
Hence to departed: But O, this ill alone  
My flock endures, that yet it is not gone  
Into the vast waste Wilderness, not yet  
Can far enough into the deserts get  
(Within some Cave, some: unfrequented Rock)  
Retired from you, from your infected flock.  Myr. 
Thou Batrachus inventest many lies  
Against our flocks: Thou sure art over-wise,  
Art over-careful of another's Tribe,  
And rashly dost unto thyself ascribe  
Unjust Censoriousness: Why should not I  
Who keep great store of  this espy  
As well as thou? what, is mine house (mine own)  
Only to thee, to thy Companions known?  Bat. 
Because that th' Aethiopians tawny skins  
Are collied all with black, that colour wins  
Repute with them; Nor do they beauty lack,  
Nor are disdained because their skins are black:  
Their faces all, are all alike; who blames  
Another's face, his own therein defames:  
Your sheep and shepherds have the like reflect,  
Like Pest, l●ke scabs, like colour, like aspect.  Bem. 
Forbear, your cause is understood, forbear;  
The day declines, The Sun's swift Chariotteer  
Is whirled below, beyond yond tops of hills.  
Hear, O ye Rivulets of ancient Rills,  
Ye that derive by long antiquity  
From great Progenitors your Progeny;  
Hear what our judgement is, and O embrace  
This our impartial sentence in your case.  Myr. 
Thou Batrachus dost me too much provoke  
With peremptory language, basely spoke.  Bat. 
Not I, but thy bad cause provokes thee more,  
Thy guilty mind just judgement doth abhor.  Cand. 
When 'tis high time to lay debate aside,  
Your madness stirs new strife, anew you chide.  
This quarrel then with everlasting hate  
Perpetually shall live, beyond your fate.  
What weakness, O what madness doth pervert  
Your senses thus, doth vex your head, your heart?  
What, blush you not, so rudely to behave  
Yourselves before a Judge so great, so grave?  
Hear then without distemper, hate, or spleen,  
That final sentence which you twain between  
The learned Bembus shall pronounce, and it  
Account authentic, and thereto submit.  Bem. 
Trace out that path, those ancient ways transact  
Of your forefathers, keep that Older tract.  
Recall your wand'ring flocks within their Pales,  
From Dens of savage Beasts, from Rocks, from Vales.  
And in those older fields, that ancient Plain  
Erect your shepherd's Cottages again.  
The end of the fifth Eclogue.    

THE EPILOGUE To the Readers.  
SO, now 'tis done: Commend it, or Come mend it:  
Be not offended at it, but defend it:  
Nor at the Workman, or the Work, repine,  
Scene, Author, Actors, all are transmarine.  
No Persons, as this Book doth them instyle,  
Dwell in this Little World, Great Britain's Isle:  
Our Natives are so fare from them in this,  
As from the World our I'll divided is.  
then Censure not: but in t'your selves descend,  
And There, what Here you find amiss, amend.  
Tho: Harvey  
FINIS