MELIBOEUS:You, Tityrus, 'neath a broad beech-canopyreclining, on the slender oat rehearseyour silvan ditties: I from my sweet fields,and home's familiar bounds, even now depart.Exiled from home am I; while, Tityrus, yousit careless in the shade, and, at your call,“Fair Amaryllis” bid the woods resound.
Meliboeus:Tityre, tu patulae recubans sub tegmine fagisilvestrem tenui Musam meditaris avena;nos patriae fines et dulcia linquimus arva:nos patriam fugimus; tu, Tityre, lentus in umbraformosam resonare doces Amaryllida silvas.
TITYRUS:O Meliboeus, 'twas a god vouchsafedthis ease to us, for him a god will Ideem ever, and from my folds a tender lamboft with its life-blood shall his altar stain.His gift it is that, as your eyes may see,my kine may roam at large, and I myselfplay on my shepherd's pipe what songs I will.
Tityrus:O Meliboee, deus nobis haec otia fecit:namque erit ille mihi semper deus; illius aramsaepe tener nostris ab ovilibus imbuet agnus.Ille meas errare boves, ut cernis, et ipsumludere, quae vellem, calamo permisit agresti
MELIBOEUS:I grudge you not the boon, but marvel more,such wide confusion fills the country-side.See, sick at heart I drive my she-goats on,and this one, O my Tityrus, scarce can lead:for 'mid the hazel-thicket here but nowshe dropped her new-yeaned twins on the bare flint,hope of the flock—an ill, I mind me well,which many a time, but for my blinded sense,the thunder-stricken oak foretold, oft toofrom hollow trunk the raven's ominous cry.But who this god of yours? Come, Tityrus, tell.
Meliboeus:Non equidem invideo; miror magis: undique totisusque adeo turbatur agris. En, ipse capellasprotinus aeger ago; hanc etiam vix, Tityre, duco:hic inter densas corylos modo namque gemellos,spem gregis, ah, silice in nuda conixa reliquit.Saepe malum hoc nobis, si mens non laeva fuisset,de caelo tactas memini praedicere quercus:—[saepe sinistra cava praedixit ab ilice cornix.]Sed tamen, iste deus qui sit, da, Tityre, nobis.
TITYRUS:The city, Meliboeus, they call Rome,I, simpleton, deemed like this town of ours,whereto we shepherds oft are wont to drivethe younglings of the flock: so too I knewwhelps to resemble dogs, and kids their dams,comparing small with great; but this as farabove all other cities rears her headas cypress above pliant osier towers.
Tityrus:Urbem, quam dicunt Romam, Meliboee, putavistultus ego huic nostrae similem, quo saepe solemuspastores ovium teneros depellere fetus:sic canibus catulos similis, sic matribus haedosnoram, sic parvis componere magna solebam:verum haec tantum alias inter caput extulit urbes,quantum lenta solent inter viburna cupressi.
MELIBOEUS:And what so potent cause took you to Rome?
Meliboeus:Et quae tanta fuit Romam tibi causa videndi?
TITYRUS:Freedom, which, though belated, cast at lengthher eyes upon the sluggard, when my beard'gan whiter fall beneath the barber's blade—cast eyes, I say, and, though long tarrying, came,now when, from Galatea's yoke released,I serve but Amaryllis: for I will own,while Galatea reigned over me, I hadno hope of freedom, and no thought to save.Though many a victim from my folds went forth,or rich cheese pressed for the unthankful town,never with laden hands returned I home.
Tityrus:Libertas; quae sera, tamen respexit inertem,candidior postquam tondenti barba cadebat;respexit tamen, et longo post tempore venit,postquam nos Amaryllis habet, Galatea reliquit:namque, fatebor enim, dum me Galatea tenebat,nec spes libertatis erat, nec cura peculi:quamvis multa meis exiret victima saeptis,pinguis et ingratae premeretur caseus urbi,non umquam gravis aere domum mihi dextra redibat.
MELIBOEUS:I used to wonder, Amaryllis, whyyou cried to heaven so sadly, and for whomyou left the apples hanging on the trees;'twas Tityrus was away. Why, Tityrus,the very pines, the very water-springs,the very vineyards, cried aloud for you.
Meliboeus:Mirabar, quid maesta deos, Amarylli, vocares,cui pendere sua patereris in arbore poma:Tityrus hinc aberat. Ipsae te, Tityre, pinus,ipsi te fontes, ipsa haec arbusta vocabant.
TITYRUS:What could I do? how else from bonds be freed,or otherwhere find gods so nigh to aid?There, Meliboeus, I saw that youth to whomyearly for twice six days my altars smoke.There instant answer gave he to my suit,“Feed, as before, your kine, boys, rear your bulls.”
Tityrus:Quid facerem? Neque servitio me exire licebat,nec tam praesentis alibi cognoscere divos.hic illum vidi iuvenem, Meliboee, quot annisbis senos cui nostra dies altaria fumant;hic mihi responsum primus dedit ille petenti:“pascite, ut ante, boves, pueri, submittite tauros.”
MELIBOEUS:So in old age, you happy man, your fieldswill still be yours, and ample for your need!Though, with bare stones o'erspread, the pastures allbe choked with rushy mire, your ewes with youngby no strange fodder will be tried, nor hurtthrough taint contagious of a neighbouring flock.Happy old man, who 'mid familiar streamsand hallowed springs, will court the cooling shade!Here, as of old, your neighbour's bordering hedge,that feasts with willow-flower the Hybla bees,shall oft with gentle murmur lull to sleep,while the leaf-dresser beneath some tall rockuplifts his song, nor cease their cooings hoarsethe wood-pigeons that are your heart's delight,nor doves their moaning in the elm-tree top.
Meliboeus:Fortunate senex, ergo tua rura manebunt,et tibi magna satis, quamvis lapis omnia nuduslimosoque palus obducat pascua iunco!Non insueta gravis temptabunt pabula fetas,nec mala vicini pecoris contagia laedent.Fortunate senex, hic, inter flumina notaet fontis sacros, frigus captabis opacum!hinc tibi, quae semper, vicino ab limite, saepesHyblaeis apibus florem depasta salictisaepe levi somnum suadebit inire susurro;hinc alta sub rupe canet frondator ad auras;nec tamen interea raucae, tua cura, palumbes,nec gemere aëria cessabit turtur ab ulmo.
TITYRUS:Sooner shall light stags, therefore, feed in air,the seas their fish leave naked on the strand,germans and Parthians shift their natural bounds,and these the Arar, those the Tigris drink,than from my heart his face and memory fade.
Tityrus:Ante leves ergo pascentur in aequore cervi,et freta destituent nudos in litore pisces,ante pererratis amborum finibus exsulaut Ararim Parthus bibet, aut Germania Tigrim,quam nostro illius labatur pectore voltus.
MELIBOEUS:But we far hence, to burning Libya some,some to the Scythian steppes, or thy swift flood,cretan Oaxes, now must wend our way,or Britain, from the whole world sundered far.Ah! shall I ever in aftertime beholdmy native bounds—see many a harvest hencewith ravished eyes the lowly turf-roofed cotwhere I was king? These fallows, trimmed so fair,some brutal soldier will possess these fieldsan alien master. Ah! to what a passhas civil discord brought our hapless folk!For such as these, then, were our furrows sown!Now, Meliboeus, graft your pears, now setyour vines in order! Go, once happy flock,my she-goats, go. Never again shall I,stretched in green cave, behold you from afarhang from the bushy rock; my songs are sung;never again will you, with me to tend,on clover-flower, or bitter willows, browse.
Meliboeus:At nos hinc alii sitientis ibimus Afros,pars Scythiam et rapidum Cretae veniemus Oaxen,et penitus toto divisos orbe Britannos.En umquam patrios longo post tempore finis,pauperis et tuguri congestum caespite culmen,post aliquot mea regna videns mirabor aristas?Impius haec tam culta novalia miles habebit,barbarus has segetes? En, quo discordia civisproduxit miseros! His nos consevimus agros!Insere nunc, Meliboee, piros, pone ordine vitis.Ite meae, felix quondam pecus, ite capellae.Non ego vos posthac, viridi proiectus in antro,dumosa pendere procul de rupe videbo;carmina nulla canam; non, me pascente, capellae,florentem cytisum et salices carpetis amaras.
TITYRUS:Yet here, this night, you might repose with me,on green leaves pillowed: apples ripe have I,soft chestnuts, and of curdled milk enow.And, see, the farm-roof chimneys smoke afar,and from the hills the shadows lengthening fall!
Tityrus:Hic tamen hanc mecum poteras requiescere noctemfronde super viridi: sunt nobis mitia poma,castaneae molles, et pressi copia lactis;et iam summa procul villarum culmina fumant,maioresque cadunt altis de montibus umbrae.
the shepherd Corydon with love was firedfor fair Alexis, his own master's joy:no room for hope had he, yet, none the less,the thick-leaved shadowy-soaring beech-tree grovestill would he haunt, and there alone, as thus,to woods and hills pour forth his artless strains.“Cruel Alexis, heed you naught my songs?Have you no pity? you'll drive me to my death.Now even the cattle court the cooling shadeand the green lizard hides him in the thorn:now for tired mowers, with the fierce heat spent,pounds Thestilis her mess of savoury herbs,wild thyme and garlic. I, with none beside,save hoarse cicalas shrilling through the brake,still track your footprints 'neath the broiling sun.Better have borne the petulant proud disdainof Amaryllis, or Menalcas wooed,albeit he was so dark, and you so fair!Trust not too much to colour, beauteous boy;white privets fall, dark hyacinths are culled.You scorn me, Alexis, who or what I amcare not to ask—how rich in flocks, or howin snow-white milk abounding: yet for meroam on Sicilian hills a thousand lambs;summer or winter, still my milk-pails brim.I sing as erst Amphion of Circe sang,what time he went to call his cattle homeon Attic Aracynthus. Nor am Iso ill to look on: lately on the beachI saw myself, when winds had stilled the sea,and, if that mirror lie not, would not feardaphnis to challenge, though yourself were judge.Ah! were you but content with me to dwell.Some lowly cot in the rough fields our home,shoot down the stags, or with green osier-wandround up the straggling flock! There you with mein silvan strains will learn to rival Pan.Pan first with wax taught reed with reed to join;for sheep alike and shepherd Pan hath care.Nor with the reed's edge fear you to make roughyour dainty lip; such arts as these to learnwhat did Amyntas do?—what did he not?A pipe have I, of hemlock-stalks compactin lessening lengths, Damoetas' dying-gift:‘Mine once,’ quoth he, ‘now yours, as heir to own.’Foolish Amyntas heard and envied me.Ay, and two fawns, I risked my neck to findin a steep glen, with coats white-dappled still,from a sheep's udders suckled twice a day—these still I keep for you; which Thestilisimplores me oft to let her lead away;and she shall have them, since my gifts you spurn.Come hither, beauteous boy; for you the Nymphsbring baskets, see, with lilies brimmed; for you,plucking pale violets and poppy-heads,now the fair Naiad, of narcissus flowerand fragrant fennel, doth one posy twine—with cassia then, and other scented herbs,blends them, and sets the tender hyacinth offwith yellow marigold. I too will pickquinces all silvered-o'er with hoary down,chestnuts, which Amaryllis wont to love,and waxen plums withal: this fruit no lessshall have its meed of honour; and I will pluckyou too, ye laurels, and you, ye myrtles, near,for so your sweets ye mingle. Corydon,you are a boor, nor heeds a whit your giftsalexis; no, nor would Iollas yield,should gifts decide the day. Alack! alack!What misery have I brought upon my head!—loosed on the flowers Siroces to my bane,and the wild boar upon my crystal springs!Whom do you fly, infatuate? gods ere now,and Dardan Paris, have made the woods their home.Let Pallas keep the towers her hand hath built,us before all things let the woods delight.The grim-eyed lioness pursues the wolf,the wolf the she-goat, the she-goat herselfin wanton sport the flowering cytisus,and Corydon Alexis, each led onby their own longing. See, the ox comes homewith plough up-tilted, and the shadows growto twice their length with the departing sun,yet me love burns, for who can limit love?Ah! Corydon, Corydon, what hath crazed your wit?Your vine half-pruned hangs on the leafy elm;why haste you not to weave what need requiresof pliant rush or osier? Scorned by this,elsewhere some new Alexis you will find.”
Formosum pastor Corydon ardebat Alexim,delicias domini, nec quid speraret habebat;tantum inter densas, umbrosa cacumina, fagosadsidue veniebat. Ibi haec incondita solusmontibus et silvis studio iactabat inani:O crudelis Alexi, nihil mea carmina curas?Nil nostri miserere? Mori me denique coges.nunc etiam pecudes umbras et frigora captant;nunc viridis etiam occultant spineta lacertos,Thestylis et rapido fessis messoribus aestualia serpyllumque herbas contundit olentis.at mecum raucis, tua dum vestigia lustro,sole sub ardenti resonant arbusta cicadis.Nonne fuit satius tristis Amaryllidis irasatque superba pati fastidia, nonne Menalcan,quam vis ille niger, quamvis tu candidus esses?o formose puer, nimium ne crede colori!alba ligustra cadunt, vaccinia nigra leguntur.Despectus tibi sum, nec qui sim quaeris, Alexi,quam dives pecoris, nivei quam lactis abundans.mille meae Siculis errant in montibus agnae;lac mihi non aestate novum, non frigore defit;canto quae solitus, si quando armenta vocabat,Amphion Dircaeus in Actaeo Aracimtho.Nec sum adeo informis: nuper me in litore vidi,cum placidum ventis staret mare; non ego Daphnimiudice te metuam, si numquam fallit imago.O tantum libeat mecum tibi sordida ruraatque humilis habitare casas, et figere cervos,haedorumque gregem viridi compellere hibisco!Mecum una in silvis imitabere Pana canendo.Pan primus calamos cera coniungere plurisinstituit; Pan curat ovis oviumque magistros.Nec te paeniteat calamo trivisse labellum:haec eadem ut sciret, quid non faciebat Amyntas?est mihi disparibus septem compacta cicutisfistula, Damoetas dono mihi quam dedit olim,et dixit moriens: “Te nunc habet ista secundum.”dixit Damoetas, invidit stultus Amyntas.Praeterea duo, nec tuta mihi valle reperti,capreoli, sparsis etiam nunc pellibus albo,bina die siccant ovis ubera; quos tibi servo:iam pridem a me illos abducere Thestylis orat;et faciet, quoniam sordent tibi munera nostra.Huc ades, O formose puer: tibi lilia plenisecce ferunt Nymphae calathis; tibi candida Nais,pallentis violas et summa papavera carpens,narcissum et florem iungit bene olentis anethi;tum casia atque aliis intexens suavibus herbis,mollia luteola pingit vaccinia calta.Ipse ego cana legam tenera lanugine mala,castaneasque nuces, mea quas Amaryllis amabat;addam cerea pruna: honos erit huic quoque pomo;et vos, O lauri, carpam, et te, proxima myrte,sic positae quoniam suavis miscetis odores.Rusticus es, Corydon: nec munera curat Alexis,nec, si muneribus certes, concedat Iollas.Heu, heu, quid volui misero mihi! Floribus austrumperditus et liquidis inmisi fontibus apros.Quem fugis, ah, demens? Habitarunt di quoque silvas,Dardaniusque Paris. Pallas, quas condidit arces,ipsa colat; nobis placeant ante omnia silvae.Torva leaena lupum sequitur; lupus ipse capellam;florentem cytisum sequitur lasciva capella;te Corydon, o Alexi: trahit sua quemque voluptas.Aspice, aratra iugo referunt suspensa iuvenci,et sol crescentis decedens duplicat umbras:me tamen urit amor; quis enim modus adsit amori?Ah, Corydon, Corydon, quae te dementia cepit!Semiputata tibi frondosa vitis in ulmo est;quin tu aliquid saltem potius, quorum indiget usus,viminibus mollique paras detexere iunco?Invenies alium, si te hic fastidit, Alexim.
MENALCAS:Who owns the flock, Damoetas? Meliboeus?
Menalcas:Dic mihi, Damoeta, cuium pecus, an Meliboei?
DAMOETAS:Nay, they are Aegon's sheep, of late by himcommitted to my care.
Damoetas:Non, verum Aegonis; nuper mihi tradidit Aegon.
MENALCAS:O every wayunhappy sheep, unhappy flock! while hestill courts Neaera, fearing lest her choiceshould fall on me, this hireling shepherd herewrings hourly twice their udders, from the flockfilching the life-juice, from the lambs their milk.
Menalcas:Infelix o semper, ovis, pecus, ipse Neaeramdum fovet, ac ne me sibi praeferat illa veretur,hic alienus ovis custos bis mulget in hora,et sucus pecori et lac subducitur agnis.
DAMOETAS:Hold! not so ready with your jeers at men!We know who once, and in what shrine with you—the he-goats looked aside—the light nymphs laughed—
Damoetas:Parcius ista viris tamen obicienda memento:novimus et qui te, transversa tuentibus hircis,et quo—sed faciles Nymphae risere—sacello.
MENALCAS:Ay, then, I warrant, when they saw me slashmicon's young vines and trees with spiteful hook.
Menalcas:Tum, credo, cum me arbustum videre Miconisatque mala vitis incidere falce novellas.
DAMOETAS:Or here by these old beeches, when you brokethe bow and arrows of Damon; for you chafedwhen first you saw them given to the boy,cross-grained Menalcas, ay, and had you notdone him some mischief, would have chafed to death.
Damoetas:Aut hic ad veteres fagos cum Daphnidis arcumfregisti et calamos quae tu, perverse Menalca,et cum vidisti puero donata, dolebas,et si non aliqua nocuisses, mortuus esses.
MENALCAS:With thieves so daring, what can masters do?Did I not see you, rogue, in ambush liefor Damon's goat, while loud Lycisca barked?And when I cried, “Where is he off to now?Gather your flock together, Tityrus,”you hid behind the sedges.
Menalcas:Quid domini faciant, audent cum talia fures!non ego te vidi Damonis, pessime, caprumexcipere insidiis, multum latrante Lycisca?et cum clamarem: “Quo nunc se proripit ille?Tityre, coge pecus,” tu post carecta latebas.
DAMOETAS:Well, was hewhom I had conquered still to keep the goat.Which in the piping-match my pipe had won!You may not know it, but the goat was mine.
Damoetas:An mihi cantando victus non redderet illequem mea carminibus meruisset fistula caprum?Si nescis, meus ille caper fuit; et mihi Damonipse fatebatur, sed reddere posse negabat.
MENALCAS:You out-pipe him? when had you ever pipewax-welded? in the cross-ways used you noton grating straw some miserable tuneto mangle?
Menalcas:Cantando tu illum, aut umquam tibi fistula ceraiuncta fuit? Non tu in triviis, indocte, solebasstridenti miserum stipula disperdere carmen?
DAMOETAS:Well, then, shall we try our skilleach against each in turn? Lest you be loth,I pledge this heifer; every day she comestwice to the milking-pail, and feeds withaltwo young ones at her udder: say you nowwhat you will stake upon the match with me.
Damoetas:Vis ergo inter nos quid possit uterque vicissimexperiamur? Ego hanc vitulam—ne forte recuses,bis venit ad mulctram, binos alit ubere fetus—depono: tu dic, mecum quo pignore certes.
MENALCAS:Naught from the flock I'll venture, for at homeI have a father and a step-dame harsh,and twice a day both reckon up the flock,and one withal the kids. But I will stake,seeing you are so mad, what you yourselfwill own more priceless far—two beechen cupsby the divine art of Alcimedonwrought and embossed, whereon a limber vine,wreathed round them by the graver's facile tool,twines over clustering ivy-berries pale.Two figures, one Conon, in the midst he set,and one—how call you him, who with his wandmarked out for all men the whole round of heaven,that they who reap, or stoop behind the plough,might know their several seasons? Nor as yethave I set lip to them, but lay them by.
Menalcas:De grege non ausim quicquam deponere tecum.Est mihi namque domi pater, est iniusta noverca;bisque die numerant ambo pecus, alter et haedos.Verum, id quod multo tute ipse fatebere maius,insanire libet quoniam tibi, pocula ponamfagina, caelatum divini opus Alcimedontis;lenta quibus torno facili superaddita vitisdiffusos hedera vestit pallente corymbos:in medio duo signa, Conon, et—quis fuit alter,descripsit radio totum qui gentibus orbem,tempora quae messor, quae curvus arator haberet?Necdum illis labra admovi, sed condita servo.
DAMOETAS:For me too wrought the same Alcimedona pair of cups, and round the handles wreathedpliant acanthus, Orpheus in the midst,the forests following in his wake; nor yethave I set lip to them, but lay them by.Matched with a heifer, who would prate of cups?
Damoetas:Et nobis idem Alcimedon duo pocula fecit,et molli circum est ansas amplexus acantho,Orpheaque in medio posuit silvasque sequentis.Necdum illis labra admovi, sed condita servo:si ad vitulam spectas, nihil est quod pocula laudes.
MENALCAS:You shall not balk me now; where'er you bid,I shall be with you; only let us havefor auditor—or see, to serve our turn,yonder Palaemon comes! In singing-boutsi'll see you play the challenger no more.
Menalcas:Nunquam hodie effugies; veniam, quocumque vocariaudiat haec tantum—vel qui venit ecce Palaemonefficiam posthac ne quemquam voce lacessas.
DAMOETAS:Out then with what you have; I shall not shrink,nor budge for any man: only do you,neighbour Palaemon, with your whole heart's skill—for it is no slight matter—play your part.PALAEMON:Say on then, since on the greensward we sit,and now is burgeoning both field and tree;now is the forest green, and now the yearat fairest. Do you first, Damoetas, sing,then you, Menalcas, in alternate strain:alternate strains are to the Muses dear.
Damoetas:Quin age, si quid habes, in me mora non erit ulla,nec quemquam fugio: tantum, vicine Palaemon,sensibus haec imis, res est non parva, reponas.Palaemon:Dicite, quandoquidem in molli consedimus herba:et nunc omnis ager, nunc omnis parturit arbos,nunc frondent silvae, nunc formosissimus annus.Incipe, Darmoeta; tu deinde sequere Menalca:alternis dicetis; amant alterna Camenae.
DAMOETAS:“From Jove the Muse began; Jove filleth all,makes the earth fruitful, for my songs hath care.”
Damoetas:Ab Iove principium, Musae; Iovis omnia plena:ille colit terras, illi mea carmina curae.
MENALCAS:“Me Phoebus loves; for Phoebus his own gifts,bays and sweet-blushing hyacinths, I keep.”
Menalcas:Et me Phoebus amat; Phoebo sua semper apud memunera sunt, lauri et suave rubens hyacinthus.
DAMOETAS:“Gay Galatea throws an apple at me,then hies to the willows, hoping to be seen.”
Damoetas:Malo me Galatea petit, lasciva puella,et fugit ad salices, et se cupit ante videri.
MENALCAS:“My dear Amyntas comes unasked to me;not Delia to my dogs is better known.”
Menalcas:At mihi sese offert ultro, meus ignis, Amyntas,notior ut iam sit canibus non Delia nostris.
DAMOETAS:“Gifts for my love I've found; mine eyes have markedwhere the wood-pigeons build their airy nests.”
Damoetas:Parta meae Veneri sunt munera: namque notaviipse locum, aëriae quo congessere palumbes.
MENALCAS:“Ten golden apples have I sent my boy,all that I could, to-morrow as many more.”
Menalcas:Quod potui, puero silvestri ex arbore lectaaurea mala decem misi; cras altera mittam.
DAMOETAS:“What words to me, and uttered O how oft,hath Galatea spoke! waft some of them,ye winds, I pray you, for the gods to hear.”
Damoetas:O quotiens et quae nobis Galatea locuta est!partem aliquam, venti, divom referatis ad auris!
MENALCAS:“It profiteth me naught, Amyntas mine,that in your very heart you spurn me not,if, while you hunt the boar, I guard the nets.”
Menalcas:Quid prodest, quod me ipse animo non spernis, Amynta.si, dum tu sectaris apros, ego retia servo?
DAMOETAS:“Prithee, Iollas, for my birthday guestsend me your Phyllis; when for the young cropsI slay my heifer, you yourself shall come.”
Damoetas:Phyllida mitte mihi: meus est natalis, Iolla;cum faciam vitula pro frugibus, ipse venito.
MENALCAS:“I am all hers; she wept to see me go,and, lingering on the word, ‘farewell’ she said,‘My beautiful Iollas, fare you well.’”
Menalcas:Phyllida amo ante alias; nam me discedere flevit,et longum “formose, vale, vale,” inquit, “Iolla.”
DAMOETAS:“Fell as the wolf is to the folded flock,rain to ripe corn, Sirocco to the trees,the wrath of Amaryllis is to me.”
Damoetas:Triste lupus stabulis, maturis frugibus imbres.arboribus venti, nobis Amaryllidis irae.
MENALCAS:“As moisture to the corn, to ewes with younglithe willow, as arbute to the yeanling kids,so sweet Amyntas, and none else, to me.”
Menalcas:Dulce satis umor, depulsis arbutus haedis,lenta salix feto pecori, mihi solus Amyntas.
DAMOETAS:“My Muse, although she be but country-bred,is loved by Pollio: O Pierian Maids,pray you, a heifer for your reader feed!”
Damoetas:Pollio amat nostram, quamvis est rustica, Musam:Pierides vitulam lectori pascite vestro.Menalcas:Pollio et ipse facit nova carmina: pascite taurum,iam cornu petat et pedibus qui spargat arenam.
DAMOETAS:“Pollio himself too doth new verses make:feed ye a bull now ripe to butt with horn,and scatter with his hooves the flying sand.”DAMOETAS:“Who loves thee, Pollio, may he thither comewhere thee he joys beholding; ay, for himlet honey flow, the thorn-bush spices bear.”
Damoetas:Qui te, Pollio, amat, veniat quo te quoque gaudet:mella fluant illi, ferat et rubus asper amomum.
MENALCAS:“Who hates not Bavius, let him also lovethy songs, O Maevius, ay, and therewithalyoke foxes to his car, and he-goats milk.”
Menalcas:Qui Bavium non odit, amet tua carmina, Maevi,atque idem iungat vulpes et mulgeat hircos.
DAMOETAS:“You, picking flowers and strawberries that growso near the ground, fly hence, boys, get you gone!There's a cold adder lurking in the grass.”
Damoetas:Qui legitis flores et humi nascentia fraga,frigidus, O pueri, fugite hinc, latet anguis in herba.
MENALCAS:“Forbear, my sheep, to tread too near the brink;yon bank is ill to trust to; even nowthe ram himself, see, dries his dripping fleece!”
Menalcas:Parcite, oves, nimium procedere; non bene ripaecreditur; ipse aries etiam nunc vellera siccat.
DAMOETAS:“Back with the she-goats, Tityrus, grazing thereso near the river! I, when time shall serve,will take them all, and wash them in the pool.”
Damoetas:Tityre, pascentes a flumine reice capellas:ipse ubi tempus erit, omnis in fonte lavabo.
MENALCAS:“Boys, get your sheep together; if the heat,as late it did, forestall us with the milk,vainly the dried-up udders shall we wring.”
Menalcas:Cogite ovis, pueri; si lac praeceperit aestus,ut nuper, frustra pressabimus ubera palmis.
DAMOETAS:“How lean my bull amid the fattening vetch!Alack! alack! for herdsman and for herd!It is the self-same love that wastes us both.”
Damoetas:Heu, heu, quam pingui macer est mihi taurus in ervo!Idem amor exitium est pecori pecorisque magistro.
MENALCAS:“These truly—nor is even love the cause—scarce have the flesh to keep their bones togethersome evil eye my lambkins hath bewitched.”
Menalcas:His certe neque amor causa est; vix ossibus haerent.nescio quis teneros oculus mihi fascinat agnos.
DAMOETAS:“Say in what clime—and you shall be withalmy great Apollo—the whole breadth of heavenopens no wider than three ells to view.”
Damoetas:Dic, quibus in terris—et eris mihi magnus Apollo—tris pateat caeli spatium non amplius ulnas.
MENALCAS:“Say in what country grow such flowers as bearthe names of kings upon their petals writ,and you shall have fair Phyllis for your own.”PALAEMON:Not mine betwixt such rivals to decide:you well deserve the heifer, so does he,with all who either fear the sweets of love,or taste its bitterness. Now, boys, shut offthe sluices, for the fields have drunk their fill.
Menalcas:Dic, quibus in terris inscripti nomina regumnascantur flores, et Phyllida solus habeto.Palaemon:Non nostrum inter vos tantas componere lites.Et vitula tu dignus, et hic, et quisquis amoresaut metuet dulces, aut experietur amaros.Claudite iam rivos, pueri, sat prata biberunt.
muses of Sicily, essay we nowa somewhat loftier task! Not all men lovecoppice or lowly tamarisk: sing we woods,woods worthy of a Consul let them be.Now the last age by Cumae's Sibyl sunghas come and gone, and the majestic rollof circling centuries begins anew:justice returns, returns old Saturn's reign,with a new breed of men sent down from heaven.Only do thou, at the boy's birth in whomthe iron shall cease, the golden race arise,befriend him, chaste Lucina; 'tis thine ownapollo reigns. And in thy consulate,this glorious age, O Pollio, shall begin,and the months enter on their mighty march.Under thy guidance, whatso tracks remainof our old wickedness, once done away,shall free the earth from never-ceasing fear.He shall receive the life of gods, and seeheroes with gods commingling, and himselfbe seen of them, and with his father's worthreign o'er a world at peace. For thee, O boy,first shall the earth, untilled, pour freely forthher childish gifts, the gadding ivy-spraywith foxglove and Egyptian bean-flower mixed,and laughing-eyed acanthus. Of themselves,untended, will the she-goats then bring hometheir udders swollen with milk, while flocks afieldshall of the monstrous lion have no fear.Thy very cradle shall pour forth for theecaressing flowers. The serpent too shall die,die shall the treacherous poison-plant, and farand wide Assyrian spices spring. But soonas thou hast skill to read of heroes' fame,and of thy father's deeds, and inly learnwhat virtue is, the plain by slow degreeswith waving corn-crops shall to golden grow,from the wild briar shall hang the blushing grape,and stubborn oaks sweat honey-dew. Nathlessyet shall there lurk within of ancient wrongsome traces, bidding tempt the deep with ships,gird towns with walls, with furrows cleave the earth.Therewith a second Tiphys shall there be,her hero-freight a second Argo bear;new wars too shall arise, and once againsome great Achilles to some Troy be sent.Then, when the mellowing years have made thee man,no more shall mariner sail, nor pine-tree barkply traffic on the sea, but every landshall all things bear alike: the glebe no moreshall feel the harrow's grip, nor vine the hook;the sturdy ploughman shall loose yoke from steer,nor wool with varying colours learn to lie;but in the meadows shall the ram himself,now with soft flush of purple, now with tintof yellow saffron, teach his fleece to shine.While clothed in natural scarlet graze the lambs.“Such still, such ages weave ye, as ye run,”sang to their spindles the consenting Fatesby Destiny's unalterable decree.Assume thy greatness, for the time draws nigh,dear child of gods, great progeny of Jove!See how it totters—the world's orbed might,earth, and wide ocean, and the vault profound,all, see, enraptured of the coming time!Ah! might such length of days to me be given,and breath suffice me to rehearse thy deeds,nor Thracian Orpheus should out-sing me then,nor Linus, though his mother this, and thathis sire should aid—Orpheus Calliope,and Linus fair Apollo. Nay, though Pan,with Arcady for judge, my claim contest,with Arcady for judge great Pan himselfshould own him foiled, and from the field retire.Begin to greet thy mother with a smile,o baby-boy! ten months of wearinessfor thee she bore: O baby-boy, begin!For him, on whom his parents have not smiled,gods deem not worthy of their board or bed.
Sicelides Musae, paulo maiora canamus!Non omnis arbusta iuvant humilesque myricae;si canimus silvas, silvae sint consule dignae.Ultima Cumaei venit iam carminis aetas;magnus ab integro saeclorum nascitur ordo:iam redit et Virgo, redeunt Saturnia regna;iam nova progenies caelo demittitur alto.Tu modo nascenti puero, quo ferrea primumdesinet ac toto surget gens aurea mundo,casta fave Lucina: tuus iam regnat Apollo.Teque adeo decus hoc aevi te consule inibit,Pollio, et incipient magni procedere menses.te duce, si qua manent sceleris vestigia nostri,inrita perpetua solvent formidine terras.ille deum vitam accipiet, divisque videbitpermixtos heroas, et ipse videbitur illis,pacatumque reget patriis virtutibus orbem.At tibi prima, puer, nullo munuscula cultuerrantis hederas passim cum baccare tellusmixtaque ridenti colocasia fundet acantho.Ipsae lacte domum referent distenta capellaeubera, nec magnos metuent armenta leones;ipsa tibi blandos fundent cunabula flores,occidet et serpens, et fallax herba venenioccidet, Assyrium volgo nascetur amomum.at simul heroum laudes et facta parentisiam legere et quae sit poteris cognoscere virtus,molli paulatim flavescet campus arista,incultisque rubens pendebit sentibus uva,et durae quercus sudabunt roscida mellaPauca tamen suberunt priscae vestigia fraudis,quae temptare Thetim ratibus, quae cingere murisoppida, quae iubeant telluri infindere sulcos:alter erit tum Tiphys, et altera quae vehat Argodelectos Heroas; erunt etiam altera bella,atque iterum ad Troiam magnus mittetur Achilles.Hinc, ubi iam firmata virum te fecerit aetas,cedet et ipse mari vector, nec nautica pinusmutabit merces: omnis feret omnia tellus:non rastros patietur humus, non vinea falcem;robustus quoque iam tauris iuga solvet arator;nec varios discet mentiri lana colores:ipse sed in pratis aries iam suave rubentimurice, iam croceo mutabit vellera luto;sponte sua sandyx pascentis vestiet agnos.Talia saecla, suis dixerunt, currite, fusisconcordes stabili fatorum numine Parcae.Adgredere o magnos—aderit iam tempus—honores,cara deum suboles, magnum Iovis incrementum!Aspice convexo nutantem pondere mundum,terrasque tractusque maris caelumque profundum!Aspice, venturo laetentur ut omnia saeclo!O mihi tam longae maneat pars ultima vitae,spiritus et quantum sat erit tua dicere facta!Non me carminibus vincet nec Thracius Orpheus,nec Linus, huic mater quamvis atque huic pater adsit,Orphei Calliopea, Lino formosus Apollo,Pan etiam, Arcadia mecum si iudice certet,Pan etiam Arcadia dicat se iudice victum.Incipe, parve puer, risu cognoscere matrem,matri longa decem tulerunt fastidia menses.Incipe, parve puer, cui non risere parentes,nec deus hunc mensa, dea nec dignata cubili est.
MENALCAS:Why, Mopsus, being both together met,you skilled to breathe upon the slender reeds,I to sing ditties, do we not sit downhere where the elm-trees and the hazels blend?
Menalcas:Cur non, Mopse, boni quoniam convenimus ambo,tu calamos inflare levis, ego dicere versus,hic corylis mixtas inter consedimus ulmos?
MOPSUS:You are the elder, 'tis for me to bideyour choice, Menalcas, whether now we seekyon shade that quivers to the changeful breeze,or the cave's shelter. Look you how the caveis with the wild vine's clusters over-laced!
Mopsus:Tu maior; tibi me est aequum parere, Menalca,sive sub incertas zephyris motantibus umbras,sive antro potius succedimus: aspice, ut antrumsilvestris raris sparsit labrusca racemis.
MENALCAS:None but Amyntas on these hills of ourscan vie with you.
Menalcas:Montibus in nostris solus tibi certat Amyntas.
MOPSUS:What if he also striveto out-sing Phoebus?
Mopsus:Quid, si idem certet Phoebum superare canendo?
MENALCAS:Do you first begin,good Mopsus, whether minded to sing aughtof Phyllis and her loves, or Alcon's praise,or to fling taunts at Codrus. Come, begin,while Tityrus watches o'er the grazing kids.
Menalcas:Incipe, Mopse, prior, si quos aut Phyllidis ignes,aut Alconis habes laudes, aut iurgia Codri:incipe, pascentis servabit Tityrus haedos.
MOPSUS:Nay, then, I will essay what late I carvedon a green beech-tree's rind, playing by turns,and marking down the notes; then afterwardbid you Amyntas match them if he can.
Mopsus:Immo haec, in viridi nuper quae cortice fagicarmina descripsi et modulans alterna notavi,experiar, tu deinde iubeto ut certet Amyntas.
MENALCAS:As limber willow to pale olive yields,as lowly Celtic nard to rose-buds bright,so, to my mind, Amyntas yields to you.But hold awhile, for to the cave we come.
Menalcas:Lenta salix quantum pallenti cedit olivae,puniceis humilis quantum saliunca rosetis,iudicio nostro tantum tibi cedit Amyntas.sed tu desine plura, puer; successimus antro.
MOPSUS:“For Daphnis cruelly slain wept all the Nymphs—ye hazels, bear them witness, and ye streams—when she, his mother, clasping in her armsthe hapless body of the son she bare,to gods and stars unpitying, poured her plaint.Then, Daphnis, to the cooling streams were nonethat drove the pastured oxen, then no beastdrank of the river, or would the grass-blade touch.Nay, the wild rocks and woods then voiced the roarof Afric lions mourning for thy death.Daphnis, 'twas thou bad'st yoke to Bacchus' cararmenian tigresses, lead on the pompof revellers, and with tender foliage wreathethe bending spear-wands. As to trees the vineis crown of glory, as to vines the grape,bulls to the herd, to fruitful fields the corn,so the one glory of thine own art thou.When the Fates took thee hence, then Pales' self,and even Apollo, left the country lone.Where the plump barley-grain so oft we sowed,there but wild oats and barren darnel spring;for tender violet and narcissus brightthistle and prickly thorn uprear their heads.Now, O ye shepherds, strew the ground with leaves,and o'er the fountains draw a shady veil—so Daphnis to his memory bids be done—and rear a tomb, and write thereon this verse:‘I, Daphnis in the woods, from hence in fameam to the stars exalted, guardian onceof a fair flock, myself more fair than they.’”
Mopsus:Extinctum nymphae crudeli funere Daphnimflebant; vos coryli testes et flumina nymphis;cum complexa sui corpus miserabile nati,atque deos atque astra vocat crudelia mater.Non ulli pastos illis egere diebusfrigida, Daphni, boves ad flumina; nulla neque amnemlibavit quadrupes, nec graminis attigit herbam.Daphni, tuum Poenos etiam ingemuisse leonesinteritum montesque feri silvaeque loquuntur.Daphnis et Armenias curru subiungere tigresinstituit; Daphnis thiasos inducere Bacchi,et foliis lentas intexere mollibus hastas.Vitis ut arboribus decori est, ut vitibus uvae,ut gregibus tauri, segetes ut pinguibus arvis,tu decus omne tuis. Postquam te fata tulerunt,ipsa Pales agros atque ipse reliquit Apollo.Grandia saepe quibus mandavimus hordea sulcis,infelix lolium et steriles nascuntur avenae;pro molli viola, pro purpureo narcisso,carduus et spinis surgit paliurus acutis.Spargite humum foliis, inducite fontibus umbras,pastores, mandat fieri sibi talia Daphnis;et tumulum facite, et tumulo superaddite carmen:DAPHNIS EGO IN SILVIS HINC VSQUE AD SIDERA NOTVSFORMONSI PECORIS CVSTOS FORMONSIOR IPSE.
MENALCAS:So is thy song to me, poet divine,as slumber on the grass to weary limbs,or to slake thirst from some sweet-bubbling rillin summer's heat. Nor on the reeds alone,but with thy voice art thou, thrice happy boy,ranked with thy master, second but to him.Yet will I, too, in turn, as best I may,sing thee a song, and to the stars upliftthy Daphnis—Daphnis to the stars extol,for me too Daphnis loved.
Menalcas:Tale tuum carmen nobis, divine poeta,quale sopor fessis in gramine, quale per aestumdulcis aquae saliente sitim restinguere rivo:nec calamis solum aequiparas, sed voce magistrum.[Fortunate puer, tu nunc eris alter ab illo.]Nos tamen haec quocumque modo tibi nostra vicissimdicemus, Daphnimque tuum tollemus ad astra;Daphnin ad astra feremus: amavit nos quoque Daphnis.
MOPSUS:Than such a boonwhat dearer could I deem? the boy himselfwas worthy to be sung, and many a timehath Stimichon to me your singing praised.
Mopsus:An quicquam nobis tali sit munere maiusEt puer ipse fuit cantari dignus, et istaiam pridem Stimichon laudavit carmina nobis.
MENALCAS:“In dazzling sheen with unaccustomed eyesdaphnis stands rapt before Olympus' gate,and sees beneath his feet the clouds and stars.Wherefore the woods and fields, Pan, shepherd-folk,and Dryad-maidens, thrill with eager joy;nor wolf with treacherous wile assails the flock,nor nets the stag: kind Daphnis loveth peace.The unshorn mountains to the stars up-tossvoices of gladness; ay, the very rocks,the very thickets, shout and sing, ‘A god,a god is he, Menalcas’ Be thou kind,propitious to thine own. Lo! altars four,twain to thee, Daphnis, and to Phoebus twainfor sacrifice, we build; and I for theetwo beakers yearly of fresh milk afoam,and of rich olive-oil two bowls, will set;and of the wine-god's bounty above all,if cold, before the hearth, or in the shadeat harvest-time, to glad the festal hour,from flasks of Ariusian grape will poursweet nectar. Therewithal at my behestshall Lyctian Aegon and Damoetas sing,and Alphesiboeus emulate in dancethe dancing Satyrs. This, thy service due,shalt thou lack never, both when we pay the Nymphsour yearly vows, and when with lustral ritesthe fields we hallow. Long as the wild boarshall love the mountain-heights, and fish the streams,while bees on thyme and crickets feed on dew,thy name, thy praise, thine honour, shall endure.Even as to Bacchus and to Ceres, soto thee the swain his yearly vows shall make;and thou thereof, like them, shalt quittance claim.”
Menalcas:Candidus insuetum miratur limen Olympi,sub pedibusque videt nubes et sidera Daphnis.ergo alacris silvas et cetera rura voluptasPanaque pastoresque tenet, Dryadasque puellas;nec lupus insidias pecori, nec retia cervisulla dolum meditantur: amat bonus otia Daphnis.ipsi laetitia voces ad sidera iactantintonsi montes; ipsae iam carmina rupes,ipsa sonant arbusta: “Deus, deus ille, Menalca.”Sis bonus O felixque tuis! En quattuor aras:ecce duas tibi, Daphni, duas altaria Phoebo.pocula bina novo spumantia lacte quotannis,craterasque duo statuam tibi pinguis olivi,et multo in primis hilarans convivia Baccho,—ante focum, si frigus erit, si messis, in umbra,—vina novum fundam calathis Ariusia nectar.cantabunt mihi Damoetas et Lyctius Aegon;saltantis satyros imitabitur Alphesiboeus.Haec tibi semper erunt, et cum solemnia votareddemus Nymphis, et cum lustrabimus agros.Dum iuga montis aper, fluvios dum piscis amabit,dumque thymo pascentur apes, dum rore cicadae,semper honos nomenque tuum laudesque manebunt;ut Baccho Cererique, tibi sic vota quotannisagricolae facient: damnabis tu quoque votis.
MOPSUS:How, how repay thee for a song so rare?For not the whispering south-wind on its wayso much delights me, nor wave-smitten beach,nor streams that race adown their bouldered beds.
Mopsus:Quae tibi, quae tali reddam pro carmine dona?Nam neque me tantum venientis sibilus austri,nec percussa iuvant fluctu tam litora, nec quaesaxosas inter decurrunt flumina valles.