<SPAN name="book03"></SPAN>
<h3> ECLOGUE III<br/> </h3>
<h3> MENALCAS DAMOETAS PALAEMON<br/> </h3>
<br/>
<p class="poem">
MENALCAS<br/>
Who owns the flock, Damoetas? Meliboeus?<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
DAMOETAS<br/>
Nay, they are Aegon's sheep, of late by him<br/>
Committed to my care.<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
MENALCAS<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 13em">O every way</SPAN><br/>
Unhappy sheep, unhappy flock! while he<br/>
Still courts Neaera, fearing lest her choice<br/>
Should fall on me, this hireling shepherd here<br/>
Wrings hourly twice their udders, from the flock<br/>
Filching the life-juice, from the lambs their milk.<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
DAMOETAS<br/>
Hold! not so ready with your jeers at men!<br/>
We know who once, and in what shrine with you-<br/>
The he-goats looked aside- the light nymphs laughed-<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
MENALCAS<br/>
Ay, then, I warrant, when they saw me slash<br/>
Micon's young vines and trees with spiteful hook.<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
DAMOETAS<br/>
Or here by these old beeches, when you broke<br/>
The bow and arrows of Damon; for you chafed<br/>
When first you saw them given to the boy,<br/>
Cross-grained Menalcas, ay, and had you not<br/>
Done him some mischief, would have chafed to death.<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
MENALCAS<br/>
With thieves so daring, what can masters do?<br/>
Did I not see you, rogue, in ambush lie<br/>
For Damon's goat, while loud Lycisca barked?<br/>
And when I cried, "Where is he off to now?<br/>
Gather your flock together, Tityrus,"<br/>
You hid behind the sedges.<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
DAMOETAS<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 13em">Well, was he</SPAN><br/>
Whom I had conquered still to keep the goat.<br/>
Which in the piping-match my pipe had won!<br/>
You may not know it, but the goat was mine.<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
MENALCAS<br/>
You out-pipe him? when had you ever pipe<br/>
Wax-welded? in the cross-ways used you not<br/>
On grating straw some miserable tune<br/>
To mangle?<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
DAMOETAS<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 6.5em">Well, then, shall we try our skill</SPAN><br/>
Each against each in turn? Lest you be loth,<br/>
I pledge this heifer; every day she comes<br/>
Twice to the milking-pail, and feeds withal<br/>
Two young ones at her udder: say you now<br/>
What you will stake upon the match with me.<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
MENALCAS<br/>
Naught from the flock I'll venture, for at home<br/>
I have a father and a step-dame harsh,<br/>
And twice a day both reckon up the flock,<br/>
And one withal the kids. But I will stake,<br/>
Seeing you are so mad, what you yourself<br/>
Will own more priceless far- two beechen cups<br/>
By the divine art of Alcimedon<br/>
Wrought and embossed, whereon a limber vine,<br/>
Wreathed round them by the graver's facile tool,<br/>
Twines over clustering ivy-berries pale.<br/>
Two figures, one Conon, in the midst he set,<br/>
And one- how call you him, who with his wand<br/>
Marked out for all men the whole round of heaven,<br/>
That they who reap, or stoop behind the plough,<br/>
Might know their several seasons? Nor as yet<br/>
Have I set lip to them, but lay them by.<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
DAMOETAS<br/>
For me too wrought the same Alcimedon<br/>
A pair of cups, and round the handles wreathed<br/>
Pliant acanthus, Orpheus in the midst,<br/>
The forests following in his wake; nor yet<br/>
Have I set lip to them, but lay them by.<br/>
Matched with a heifer, who would prate of cups?<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
MENALCAS<br/>
You shall not balk me now; where'er you bid,<br/>
I shall be with you; only let us have<br/>
For auditor- or see, to serve our turn,<br/>
Yonder Palaemon comes! In singing-bouts<br/>
I'll see you play the challenger no more.<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
DAMOETAS<br/>
Out then with what you have; I shall not shrink,<br/>
Nor budge for any man: only do you,<br/>
Neighbour Palaemon, with your whole heart's skill-<br/>
For it is no slight matter-play your part.<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
PALAEMON<br/>
Say on then, since on the greensward we sit,<br/>
And now is burgeoning both field and tree;<br/>
Now is the forest green, and now the year<br/>
At fairest. Do you first, Damoetas, sing,<br/>
Then you, Menalcas, in alternate strain:<br/>
Alternate strains are to the Muses dear.<br/></p>
<br/>
<p class="poem">
DAMOETAS<br/>
"From Jove the Muse began; Jove filleth all,<br/>
Makes the earth fruitful, for my songs hath care."<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
MENALCAS<br/>
"Me Phoebus loves; for Phoebus his own gifts,<br/>
Bays and sweet-blushing hyacinths, I keep."<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
DAMOETAS<br/>
"Gay Galatea throws an apple at me,<br/>
Then hies to the willows, hoping to be seen."<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
MENALCAS<br/>
"My dear Amyntas comes unasked to me;<br/>
Not Delia to my dogs is better known."<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
DAMOETAS<br/>
"Gifts for my love I've found; mine eyes have marked<br/>
Where the wood-pigeons build their airy nests."<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
MENALCAS<br/>
"Ten golden apples have I sent my boy,<br/>
All that I could, to-morrow as many more."<br/></p>
<p class="poem"></p>
<p class="poem">
DAMOETAS<br/>
"What words to me, and uttered O how oft,<br/>
Hath Galatea spoke! waft some of them,<br/>
Ye winds, I pray you, for the gods to hear."<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
MENALCAS<br/>
"It profiteth me naught, Amyntas mine,<br/>
That in your very heart you spurn me not,<br/>
If, while you hunt the boar, I guard the nets."<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
DAMOETAS<br/>
"Prithee, Iollas, for my birthday guest<br/>
Send me your Phyllis; when for the young crops<br/>
I slay my heifer, you yourself shall come."<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
MENALCAS<br/>
"I am all hers; she wept to see me go,<br/>
And, lingering on the word, 'farewell' she said,<br/>
'My beautiful Iollas, fare you well.'"<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
DAMOETAS<br/>
"Fell as the wolf is to the folded flock,<br/>
Rain to ripe corn, Sirocco to the trees,<br/>
The wrath of Amaryllis is to me."<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
MENALCAS<br/>
"As moisture to the corn, to ewes with young<br/>
Lithe willow, as arbute to the yeanling kids,<br/>
So sweet Amyntas, and none else, to me."<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
DAMOETAS<br/>
"My Muse, although she be but country-bred,<br/>
Is loved by Pollio: O Pierian Maids,<br/>
Pray you, a heifer for your reader feed!"<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 0.5em">MENALCAS</SPAN><br/>
"Pollio himself too doth new verses make:<br/>
Feed ye a bull now ripe to butt with horn,<br/>
And scatter with his hooves the flying sand."<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
DAMOETAS<br/>
"Who loves thee, Pollio, may he thither come<br/>
Where thee he joys beholding; ay, for him<br/>
Let honey flow, the thorn-bush spices bear."<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
MENALCAS<br/>
"Who hates not Bavius, let him also love<br/>
Thy songs, O Maevius, ay, and therewithal<br/>
Yoke foxes to his car, and he-goats milk."<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
DAMOETAS<br/>
"You, picking flowers and strawberries that grow<br/>
So near the ground, fly hence, boys, get you gone!<br/>
There's a cold adder lurking in the grass."<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
MENALCAS<br/>
"Forbear, my sheep, to tread too near the brink;<br/>
Yon bank is ill to trust to; even now<br/>
The ram himself, see, dries his dripping fleece!"<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
DAMOETAS<br/>
"Back with the she-goats, Tityrus, grazing there<br/>
So near the river! I, when time shall serve,<br/>
Will take them all, and wash them in the pool."<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
MENALCAS<br/>
"Boys, get your sheep together; if the heat,<br/>
As late it did, forestall us with the milk,<br/>
Vainly the dried-up udders shall we wring."<br/></p>
<br/>
<p class="poem">
DAMOETAS<br/>
"How lean my bull amid the fattening vetch!<br/>
Alack! alack! for herdsman and for herd!<br/>
It is the self-same love that wastes us both."<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
MENALCAS<br/>
"These truly- nor is even love the cause-<br/>
Scarce have the flesh to keep their bones together<br/>
Some evil eye my lambkins hath bewitched."<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
DAMOETAS<br/>
"Say in what clime- and you shall be withal<br/>
My great Apollo- the whole breadth of heaven<br/>
Opens no wider than three ells to view."<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
MENALCAS<br/>
"Say in what country grow such flowers as bear<br/>
The names of kings upon their petals writ,<br/>
And you shall have fair Phyllis for your own."<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
PALAEMON<br/>
Not mine betwixt such rivals to decide:<br/>
You well deserve the heifer, so does he,<br/>
With all who either fear the sweets of love,<br/>
Or taste its bitterness. Now, boys, shut off<br/>
The sluices, for the fields have drunk their fill.<br/></p>
<br/><br/><br/>
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