a master.

with admiration, in the Latin, of which you are
You have added to your natural en-
dowments, which, without flattery, are eminent,
the superstructures of study, and the knowledge
of good authors. Courage, probity, and humanity
are inherent in you.
These virtues have ever
been habitual to the ancient house of Cumberland,
from whence you are descended, and of which our
Chronicles make so honourable mention in the long
wars betwixt the rival families of York and Lan-
easter. Your forefathers have asserted the party
which they chose till death, and died for its defence
in the fields of battle. You have besides the fresh
remembrance of your noble father; from whom you
never can degenerate.

-Nec imbellem feroces
Progenerant aquila columbam.

It being almost morally impossible for you to be other than you are by kind; I need neither praise nor incite your virtue. You are acquainted with the Roman history, and know without my information that patronage and clientship always descended from the fathers to the sons, and that the same plebeian houses had recourse to the same patrician line, which had formerly protected them; and followed their principles and fortunes to the last. So that I am your lordship's by descent, and part of your inheritance. And the natural inclination which I have to serve you, adds to your paternal right, for I was wholly yours from the first moment when I had the happiness and bonour of being known to you. Be pleased therefore to accept the rudiments of Virgil's poetry: coarsely translated, I confess, but which yet retains some beauties of the author, which neither the barbarity of our language, nor my unskilfulness, could so much sully, but that they sometimes appear in the dim mirror which I hold beThe subject is not unsuitable to your youth, which allows you yet to love, and is proper to your present scene of life. Rural recreations abroad, and books at home, are the innocent pleasures of a man who is early wise; and gives fortune no more hold of him, than of necessity he must It is good, on some occasions, to think beforehand as little as we can; to enjoy as much of the present as will not endanger our futurity, and to provide ourselves with the virtuoso's saddle. which will be sure to amble, when the world is upon the hardest trot. What I humbly offer to your lordship is of this nature. I wish it pleasant, and am sure it is innocent. May you ever continue your esteem for Virgil; and not lessen it, VOL. XIX:

fore you.

manner of respect and sense of gratitude,

my lord,

your lordship's

most humble and
most obedient servant,

JOHN DRYDEN.

THE FIRST PASTORAL;

OR,

TITYRUS AND MELIBUS.

THE ARGUMENT.

THE occasion of the first pastoral was this. When Augustus had settled himself in the Roman empire, that he might reward his veteran troops for their past service, he distributed among them all the lands that lay about Cremona and Mantua turning out the right owners for having sided with his enemies. Virgil was a sufferer among the rest; who afterwards recovered his estate by Mæcenas's intercession, and as an instance of his gratitude composed the following pastoral; where he sets out his own good fortune in the person of Tityrus, and the calamities of his Mantuan neighbours in the character of Melibus.

MELIBEUS.

BENEATH the shade which beechen boughs diffuse,
You, Tityrus, entertain your sylvan Muse:
Round the wide world in banishment we roam,
Fore'd from our pleasing fields and native home:
While stretch'd at ease you sing your happy loves;
And Amaryllis fills the shady groves.

TIT. These blessings, friend, a deity bestow'd:
For never can I deem him less than God.
The tender firstlings of my woolly breed
Shall on his holy altar often bleed.
He gave my kine to graze the flowery plain ;
And to my pipe renew'd the rural strain.

MEL. I envy not your fortune, but admire,
That while the raging sword and wasteful fire
Destroy the wretched neighbourhood around,
No hostile arms approach your happy ground.
Far different is my fate: my feeble goats
With pains I drive from their forsaken cotes:
And this you see I scarcely drag along,
Who, yeaning on the rocks, has left her young;
(The hope and promise of my failing fold.)
My loss by dire portents the gods foretold:
For had I not been blind, I might have seen
Yon riven oak, the fairest of the green,
And the hoarse raven, on the blasted bough,
By croaking from the left presag'd the coming
blow.

But tell me, Tityrus, what heavenly power
Preserv'd your fortunes in that fatal hour?

TIT. Fool that I was, I thought imperial Rome Like Mantua, where on market-days we come, And thither drive our tender lambs from home.

Rome!

So kids and whelps their sires and dams express:
And so the great I measur'd by the less.
But country towns, compar'd with her, appear
Like shrubs when lofty cypresses are near.
MEL. What great occasion call'd you hence to
[slow to come :
TIT. Freedom, which came at length, though
Nor did my search of liberty begin,
Till my black hairs were chang'd upon my chin.
Nor Amaryllis would vouchsafe a look,
Till Galatea's meaner bonds I broke.
Till then a helpless, hopeless, homely swain,
I sought not freedom, nor aspir'd to gain :
Though many a victim from my folds was bought,
And many a cheese to country markets brought,
Yet all the little that I got, I spent,
And still return'd as empty as I went.

[mourn;
MEL. We stood amaz'd to see your mistress
Unknowing that she pin'd for your return:
We wonder'd why she kept her fruit so long,
For whom so late th' ungather'd apples hung;
But now the wonder ceases, since I see
She kept them only, Tityrus, for thee.
For thee the bubbling springs appear'd to mourn,
And whispering pines made vows for thy return.

TIT. What should I do? while here I was enNo glimpse of godlike liberty remain'd; [chain'd, Nor could I hope in any place but there, To find a god so present to my prayer. There first the youth of heav'nly birth I view'd, For whom our monthly victims are renew'd. He heard my vows, and graciously decreed My grounds to be restor❜d, my former flocks to feed.

MEL. O fortunate old man! whose farm remains For you sufficient, and requites your pains. Though rushes overspread the neighbouring plains, Though here the marshy grounds approach your And there the soil a stony harvest yields, [fields, Your teaming ewes shall no strange meadows try, Nor fear a rot from tainted company. Behold yon bordering fence of sallow trees [bees: Is fraught with flowers, the flowers are fraught with The busy bees with a soft murmuring strain Invite to gentle sleep the labouring swain. While from the neighbouring rock, with rural songs The pruner's voice the pleasing dream prolongs; Stockdoves and turtles tell their amorous pain, And, from the lofty elms, of love complain.

TIT. Th' inhabitants of seas and skies shall
change,

And fish on shore, and stags in air shall range,
The banish'd Parthian dwell on Arar's brink,
And the blue German shall the Tigris drink :
Fre I, forsaking gratitude and truth,
Forget the figure of that godlike youth.

[known,

MEL. But we must beg our bread in climes un-Beneath the scorching or the freezing zone. And some to far Oaxis shall be sold ; Or try the Libyan heat, or Scythian cold. The rest among the Britons be confin'd; A race of men from all the world disjoin'd. O must the wretched exiles ever mourn, Nor after length of rolling years return? Are we condemn'd by fate's unjust decree, No more our houses and our homes to see? Or shall we mount again the rural throne, And rule the country kingdoms, once our own! Did we for these barbarians plant and sow, On these, on these, our happy fields bestow? [flow! Good Heaven, what dire effects from civil discord!

Now let me graft my pears, and prune the vine ;
The fruit is theirs, the labour only mine.
Farewel my pastures, my paternal stock;
My fruitful fields, and my more fruitful flock!
No more, my goats, shall I behold you climb
The steepy cliffs, or crop the flowery thyme!
No more extended in the grot below,
Shall see you browsing on the mountain's brow
The prickly shrubs; and after, on the bare,
Lean down the deep abyss, and hang in air.
No more my sheep shall sip the morning dew;
No more my song shall please the rural crew:
Adieu, my tuneful pipe! and all the world adieu!

TIT. This night, at least, with me forget your care;
Chesnuts and curds and cream shall be your fare:
The carpet-ground shall be with leaves o'erspread;
And boughs shall weave a covering for your head.
For see yon sunny hill the shade extends:
And curling smoke from cottages ascends.

THE SECOND PASTORAL;

OR, ALEXIS.

THE ARGUMENT.

THE Commentators can by no means agree on the person of Alexis, but are all of opinion that some beautiful youth is meant by him, to whom Virgil here makes love in Corydon's language and simplicity. His way of courtship is wholly pastoral: he complains of the boy's coyness; recommends himself for his beauty and skill in piping; invites the youth into the country, where he promises him the diversions of the place, with a suitable present of nuts and apples: but when he finds nothing will prevail, he resolves to quit his troublesome armour, and betake himself again to his former business.

YOUNG Corydon, th' unhappy shepherd swain,
The fair Alexis lov'd, but lov'd in vain :
And underneath the beechen shade, alone,
Thus to the woods and mountains made his moan.
"Is this, unkind Alexis, my reward,
And must I die unpitied, and unheard?
Now the green lizard in the grove is laid,
The sheep enjoy the coolness of the shade;
And Thestylis wild thyme and garlic beats
For harvest hinds, o'erspent with toil and heats:
While in the scorching Sun I trace in vain
Thy flying footsteps o'er the burning plain,
The creaking locusts with my voice conspire,
They fry with heat, and I with fierce desire.
How much more easy was it to sustain
Proud Amaryllis and her haughty reign,
The scorns of young Menalcas, once my care,
Though he was black, and thou art heavenly fair.
Trust not too much to that enchanting face;
Beauty's a charm, but soon the charm will pass:
White lilies lie neglected on the plain,
While dusky hyacinths for use remain.
My passion is thy scorn: nor wilt thou know
What wealth I have, what gifts I can bestow:

What stores my dairies and my folds contain;
A thousand lambs that wander on the plain:
New milk that all the winter never fails,
And all the summer overflows the pails:
Amphion sung not sweeter to his herd,

See from afar the fields no longer smoke,
The sweating steers, unharness'd from the yoke,
Bring, as in triumph, back the crooked plough;
The shadows lengthen as the Sun goes low.
Cool breezes now the raging heats remove;

Nor am I so deform'd; for late I stood
Upon the margin of the briny flood:

The winds were still, and if the glass be true,
With Daphnis I may vie, though judg'd by you.
O leave the noisy town, O come and see
Our country cots, and live content with me!
To wound the flying deer, and from their cotes
With me to drive a-field the browzing goats:
To pipe and sing, and in our country strain
To copy, or perhaps contend with Pan.
Pan taught to join, with wax, unequal reeds,
Pan loves the shepherds, and their flocks he feeds:
Nor scorn the pipe; Amyntas, to be taught,
With all his kisses would my skill have bought.
Of seven smooth joints a mellow pipe I have,
Which with his dying breath Damætas gave:
And said, This, Corydon, I leave to thee;
For only thou deserv'st it after me.'

His eyes Amyntas durst not upward lift,
For much he grudg'd the praise, but more the gift.
Besides two kids that in the valley stray'd,
I found by chance, and to my fold convey'd.
They drain two bagging udders every day;
And these shall be companions of thy play.
Both fleck'd with white, the true Arcadian strain,
Which Thestylis had often begg'd in vain:
And she shall have them, if again she sues,
Since you the giver and the gift refuse.
Come to my longing arms, my lovely care,
And take the presents which the nymphs prepare.
White lilies in full canisters they bring,
With all the glories of the purple spring.

The daughters of the flood have search'd the mead
For violets pale, and cropp'd the poppies' head;
The short narcissus, and fair daffodil,

[smell;

Pansies to please the sight, and cassia sweet to
And set soft hyacinths with iron-blue,
To shade marsh marigolds of shining hue.
Some bound in order, others loosely strow'd,
To dress thy bower, and trim thy new abode.
Myself will search our planted grounds at home,
For downy peaches and the glossy plum:
And thrash the chesnuts in the neighbouring grove,
Such as my Amaryllis us'd to love.
The laurel and the myrtle sweets agree;
And both in nosegays shall be bound for thee.
Ab, Corydon, ah poor unhappy swain,
Alexis will thy homely gifts disdain :
Nor, should'st thou offer all thy little store,
Will rich Iolus yield, but offer more.
What have I done to name that wealthy swain,
So powerful are his presents, mine so mean!
The boar amidst my crystal streams I bring;
And southern winds to blast my flowery spring.
Ah cruel creature, whom dost thou despise ?
The gods to live in woods have left the skies.
And godlike Paris in th' Idean grove,
To Priam's wealth preferr'd Enone's love.
In cities which she built, let Pallas reign;
Towers are for gods, but forests for the swain.
The greedy lioness the wolf pursues,

The wolf the kid, the wanton kid the browse :
Alexis, thou art chas'd by Corydon;
All follow several games, and each his own.

I wish for balmy sleep, but wish in vain:
Love has no bounds in pleasure, or in pain.
What frenzy, shepherd, has thy soul possess'd,
Thy vineyard lies half prun'd, and half undress'd.
Quench, Corydon, thy long unanswer'd fire:
Mind what the common wants of life require:
On willow twigs employ thy weaving care;
And find an easier love, though not so fair."

THE THIRD PASTORAL;

OR,
PALEMON.

THE ARGUMENT.

DAMÆTAS and Menalcas, after some smart strokes of country raillery, resolve to try who has the most skill at a song, and accordingly make their neighbour Palæmon judge of their per formances: who, after a full hearing of both parties, declares himself unfit for the decision of so weighty a controversy, and leaves the victory undetermined.

MENALÇAS, DAMÆTAS, PALÆMON.
MENALCAS.

Ho, swain, what shepherd owns those ragged sheep?
DAM. Egon's they are, he gave them me to keep.
MEN. Unhappy sheep of an unhappy swain!
While he Neæra courts, but courts in vain,
And fears that I the damsel shall obtain
Thou, varlet, dost thy master's gains devour:
Thou milk'st his ewes, and often twice an hour;
Of grass and fodder thou defraud'st, the dams;
And of their mother's dugs, the starving lambs.
DAM. Good words, young catamite, at least to

men:

We know who did your business, how, and when. And in what chapel too you play'd your prize; And what the goats observ'd with leering eyes: The nymphs were kind, and laugh'd, and there your safety lies.

MEN. Yes, when I cropt the hedges of the leys; Cut Micon's tender vines, and stole the stays.

DAM. Or rather, when beneath yon ancient oak, The bow of Daphnis, and the shafts you broke: When the fair boy receiv'd the gift of right; And, but for mischief, you had dy'd for spite. MEN. What nonsense would the fool, thy master,

prate,

When thou, his knave, canst talk at such a rate!
Did I not see you, rascal, did I not?
When you lay snug to snap young Damon's goat?
His mongrel bark'd, I ran to his relief,
And cry'd, "There, there he goes, stop, stop the
Discover'd, and defeated of your prey, [thief!"
You skulk'd behind the fence, and sneak'd away.
DAM. An honest man may freely take his own;
The goat was mine, by singing fairly won.

A solemn match was made; he lost the prize.
Ask Damon, ask if he the debt denies;
I think he dares not; if he does, he lies.

MEN. Thou sing with him, thou booby! never
pipe

Was so prophan'd to touch that blubber'd lip:
Dunce at the best; in streets but scarce allow'd
To tickle, on thy straw, the stupid crowd.

DAM. To bring it to the trial, will you dare
Our pipes, our skill, our voices, to compare?
My brinded heifer to the stake I lay;
Two thriving calves she suckles twice a day:
And twice besides her beastings never fail
To store the dairy with a brimming pail.
Now back your singing with an equal stake.

MEN. That should be seen, if I had one to make.
You know too well I feed my father's flock:
What can I wager from the common stock?
A stepdame too I have, a cursed she,
Who rules my henpecked sire, and orders me.
Both number twice a-day the milky dams,
At once she takes the tale of all the lambs.
But since you will be mad, and since you may
Suspect my courage, if I should not lay,
The pawn I proffer shall be full as good:

Two bowls I have, well turn'd, of beechen wood;
Both by divine Alcimedon were made;
To neither of them yet the lip is laid;
The ivy's stem, its fruit, its foliage, lurk
In various shapes around the curious work.
Two figures on the sides emboss'd appear;
Conon, and, what's his name who made the sphere,
And show'd the seasons of the sliding year,
Instructed in his trade the labouring swain,
And when to reap, and when to sow the grain?
DAM. And I have two, to match your pair, at
home;

The wood the same, from the same hand they come :
The kimbo handles seem with bearsfoot carv'd;
And never yet to table have been serv'd:
Where Orpheus on his lyre laments his love,
With beasts encompass'd, and a dancing grove:
But these, nor all the proffers you can make,
Are worth the heifer which I set to stake.

MEN. No more delays, vain boaster, but begin:
I prophesy beforehand I shall win.
Palemon shall be judge how ill you rhyme:
I'll teach you how to brag another time.

The blossoms blow; the birds on bushes sing;
And nature has accomplish'd all the spring.
The challenge to Damætas shall belong.
Menalcas shall sustain his under-song:
Each in his turn your tuneful numbers bring;
By turns the tuneful Muses love to sing.

DAM. From the great father of the gods above
My Muse begins; for all is full of Jove;
To Jove the care of Heaven and Earth belongs;
My flocks he blesses, and he loves my songs.

MEN. Me Phoebus loves; for he my Muse in

DAM. My Phyllis me with pelted apples plies, Then tripping to the woods the wanton hies: And wishes to be seen, before she flies.

MEN. But fair Amyntas comes unask'd to me, And offers love; and sits upon my knee; Not Delia to my dogs is known so well as he.

DAM. To the dear mistress of my lovesick mind, Her swain a pretty present has design'd: I saw two stockdov billing, and ere long Will take the nest, and hers shall be the young.

MEN. Ten ruddy wildings in the wood I found, And stood on tiptoes, reaching from the ground; I sent Amyntas all my present store; And will, to morrow, send as many more.

DAM. The lovely maid lay panting in my arms; And all she said and did was full of charms. Winds, on your wings to Heaven her accents bear! Such words as Heaven alone is fit to hear.

MEN. Ah! what avails it me, my love's delight, To call you mine, when absent from my sight! I hold the nets, while you pursue the prey; And must not share the dangers of the day. DAM. I keep my birth-day: send my Phillis home;

At shearing-time, Iolas, you may come.

MEN. With Phyllis I am more in grace than you: Her sorrow did my parting steps pursue: "Adieu, my dear," she said, a long adieu! DAM. The nightly wolf is baneful to the fold, Storms to the wheat, to buds the bitter cold; But from my frowning fair, more ills I find Than from the wolves, and storms, and winterwind. [plain, MEN. The kids with pleasure browse the bushy The showers are grateful to the swelling grain : To teeming ewes the sallow's tender tree; But more than all the world my love to me. DAM. Pollio my rural verse vouchsafes to read: A heifer, Muses, for your patron, breed.

MEN. My Pollio writes himself; a bull he bred With spurning heels, and with a butting head. DAM. Who Pollio loves, and who his Muse ad

Anon I'll wash them in the shallow brook.

MEN. To fold, my fleck; when milk is dry'd with In vain the milkmaid tugs an empty teat [heat, DAM. How lank my bulls from plenteous pasture come!

But love, that drains the herd, destroys the groom.
MEN. My flocks are free from love; yet look so
Their bones are barely cover'd with their skin. [thin,
What magic has bewitch'd the woolly dams,
And what ill eyes beheld the tender lambs?