"And me, not long ago, fair DAPHNE whistly eyed As I drove by; and said, I was a paragon: Nor then indeed to her I churlishly replied; But, looking on the ground, my way still held I on. Sweet is a cow-calf's voice, and sweet her breath doth smell; A bull calf, and a cow, do low full pleasantly. 'Tis sweet in summer by a spring abroad to dwell! Acorns become the oak; apples, the apple-tree; And calves, the kine; and kine, the Neatherd much set out." Thus sung these youths. The Goatherd thus did end the doubt: Goatherd. "O DAPHNIS, what a dulcet mouth and voice thou hast! 'Tis sweeter thee to hear than honey-combs to taste! Take thee these Pipes, for thou in singing dost excel! If me, a Goatherd, thou wilt teach to sing so well; This broken-hornèd goat, on thee bestow I will! Which to the very brim, the pail doth ever fill." So then was DAPHNIS glad, and lept and clapt his hands; And danced as doth a fawn, when by the dam he stands. MENALCAS grieved, the thing his mind did much dismay: And sad as Bride he was, upon the marriage day. Since then among the Shepherds, DAPHNIS chief was had! And took a Nymph to wife when he was but a lad. DAPHNIS his Emblem. _Me tamen urit Amor._ MENALCAS his Emblem. _At hæc DAPHNE forsan probet._ Goatherd's Emblem. _Est minor nemo nisi comparatus._ [Illustration] THE ELEVENTH IDILLION. Argument. THEOCRITUS wrote this Idillion to NICIAS a learned Physician: wherein he sheweth--by the example of POLYPHEMUS a giant in Sicily, of the race of the CYCLOPS, who loved the Water Nymph GALATEA--that there is no medicine so sovereign against Love as is Poetry. Of whose Love Song, as this Idillion, is termed CYCLOPS; so he was called CYCLOPS, because he had but one eye, that stood like a circle in the midst of his forehead. _CYCLOPS._ O NICIAS, there is no other remedy for Love, With ointing, or with sprinkling on, that ever I could prove, Beside the Muses nine! This pleasant medicine of the mind Grows among men; and seems but lite, yet very hard to find: As well I wote you know; who are in physic such a Leech, And of the Muses so beloved. The cause of this my speech A CYCLOPS is, who lived here with us right wealthily; That ancient POLYPHEM, when first he loved GALATE (When, with a bristled beard, his chin and cheeks first clothed were): He loved her not with roses, apples, or with curlèd hair; But with the Furies' rage. All other things he little plied. Full often to their fold, from pastures green, without a guide, His sheep returnèd home: when all the while he singing lay In honour of his Love, and on the shore consumed away From morning until night; sick of the wound, fast by the heart, Which mighty VENUS gave, and in his liver stuck the dart.