IDYL VIII.

THE BUCOLIC SINGERS.

DAPHNIS AND MENALCAS.

MENALCAS met, while pasturing his sheep,
The cowherd Daphnis on the highland steep;
Both yellow-tressed, and in their life's fresh spring,—
Both skilled to play the pipe, and both to sing.

Menalcas, with demeanour frank and free,

Spoke first: "Good Daphnis, will you sing with me?

I can out-sing you, whensoe'er I try,

Just as I please." Then Daphnis made reply:

DAPHNIS.

Shepherd and piper! that may never be,
Happen what will, as you on proof will see.

H

MENALCAS.

Ah, will you see it, and a wager make?

DAPHNIS.

I will to see this, and to pledge a stake.

MENALCAS.

And what the wager, worthy fame like ours?

DAPHNIS.

A calf my pledge, a full-grown lamb be yours.

MENALCAS.

At night my cross-grained sire and mother use To count the sheep- that pledge I must refuse.

What shall it be then?

DAPHNIS.

What the victor's prize?

MENALCAS.

I'll pledge a nine-toned pipe, that even lies
In the joined reeds, with whitest wax inlaid,
The musical sweet pipe I lately made;

This will I pledge — and not my father's things.

DAPHNIS.

I, too, have got a pipe that nine-toned rings,
Compact with white wax, even-jointed, new,—
Made by myself: a split reed sudden flew,
And gashed this finger - it is painful still.

But who shall judge which has the better skill?

MENALCAS.

Suppose we call that goatherd hither

Yon white dog at his kids barks lustily.

see!

He came when called; and, hearing their request,

Was willing to decide which sung the best.

Clearly their rival tones responsive rung,

Each in his turn, but first Menalcas sung.

MENALCAS.

Ye mountain-vales and rivers! race divine!

If aught Menalcas ever sung was sweet,

Feed

ye these lambs; and feed no less his kiné,

When Daphnis drives them to this dear retreat.

DAPHNIS.

Fountains and herbs, growth of the lively year!

If Daphnis sings like any nightingale,

Fatten this herd; and if Menalcas here
Conduct his flock, let not their pasture fail.

MENALCAS.

Pastures and spring, and milkful udders swelling,
And fatness for the lambs, is everywhere

At her approach: but if the girl excelling
Departs, both herbs and shepherd wither there.

DAPHNIS.

The sheep and goats bear twins; the bees up-lay Full honey-stores, the spreading oaks are higher, Where Milto walks: but if she goes away,

The cowherd and his cows themselves are drier

MENALCAS.

Uxorious ram, and flat-nosed kids, away

For water to that wilderness of wood: There, ram without a horn! to Milto say,

Proteus, a god too, fed the sea-calf brood.

DAPHNIS.

Nor Pelops' realm be mine, nor piles of gold,
Nor speed fleet as the wind; but at this rock
To sing, and clasp my darling, and behold
The seas blue reach, and many a pasturing flock.

MENALCAS.

To forest-beast the net, to bird the noose,
Winter to trees, and drought to springs is bad;
To man the sting of beauty. Mighty Zeus!
Not only Ithou, too, art woman-mad.

Their sweet notes thus, in turn, they did prolong; Menalcas then took up the closing song.

MENALCAS.

Spare, wolf! my sheep and lambs; nor injure me,
Because I many tend, though small I be.
Sleepest, Lampurus? up! no dog should sleep
That with the shepherd-boy attends his sheep.
Be not to crop the tender herbage slow,

Feed on, my sheep! the grass again will grow.