Stanyhurst was also ridiculed by Joseph Hall, in the Satires of his _Virgidemiarum_ (1597): "Another scorns the home-spun thread of rhymes, Match'd with the lofty feet of elder times: Give me the numbred verse that Virgil sung, And Virgil's self shall speak the English tongue: Manhood and garboiles shall he chaunt with chaunged feet And head-strong dactyls making music meet. The nimble dactyl striving to out-go, The drawling spondees pacing it below. The lingring spondees, labouring to delay, The breathless dactyls with a sudden stay. Whoever saw a colt wanton and wild Yok'd with a slow-foot ox on fallow field, Can right areed how handsomely besets Dull spondees with the English dactylets." (CHALMERS'S _English Poets_, vol. v. p. 266.) Compare the lines of Chapman, in his _Hymn to Cynthia_, where he says that "sweet poesy Will not be clad in her supremacy With those strange garments (Rome's hexameters) As she is English; but in right prefers Our native robes." See also, in Arber's edition of Stanyhurst in the _English Scholar's Library_, an account of another work in hexameters, published anonymously in 1599: the _First Booke of the Preservation of King Henry the VII_. This writer admired Stanyhurst's effort, but desired "him to refile" his verses into more polished English: "If the Poet Stanihurst yet live and feedeth on ay-er, I do request him (as one that wisheth a grace to the meter) With wordes significant to refile and finely to polishe Those fower _Æneis_, that he late translated in English." In the same connection the writer tells us definitely what is to be hoped from the "trew kind of Hexametred and Pentametred verse." "First it will enrich our speach with good and significant wordes: Secondly it will bring a delight and pleasure to the skilfull Reader, when he seeth them formally compyled: And thirdly it will incourage and learne the good and godly Students, that affect Poetry, and are naturally enclyned thereunto, to make the like: Fourthly it will direct a trew Idioma, and will teach trew Orthography."[44] Tityrus, happilie thou lyste tumbling under a beech tree, All in a fine oate pipe these sweete songs lustilie chaunting: We, poore soules goe to wracke, and from these coastes be remooved, And fro our pastures sweete: thou Tityr, at ease in a shade plott Makst thicke groves to resound with songes of brave Amarillis. (WILLIAM WEBBE: Vergil's First Eclogue, in _A Discourse of English Poetrie_. 1586.)