'Since you set your desire on so lofty a goal as you do,' said Damon, 'I would hold it madness to endeavour to lower it to an object that might be less; and so, friend Elicio, do not speak ill of the condition in which you find yourself, for I assure you that if it were compared with mine, I would find occasion to feel towards you more envy than pity.' 'It is quite clear, Damon,' said Elicio, 'that you have been away from these banks for many a day, since you do not know what love makes me feel here, and if it is not so, you cannot know or have experience of Galatea's disposition, for if you had noted it, you would change into pity the envy you might feel for me.' 'What new thing can he expect from Galatea's disposition,' replied Damon, 'who has experienced that of Amaryllis?' 'If your stay on these banks,' answered Elicio, 'be as long as I wish, you, Damon, will learn and see on them, and on others will hear, how her cruelty and gentleness go in equal balance, extremes which end the life of him whose misfortune has brought him to the pass of adoring her.' 'On our Henares's banks,' said Thyrsis at this point, 'Galatea had more fame for beauty than for cruelty; but above all, it is said that she is discreet; and if this be true, as it ought to be, from her discretion springs self-knowledge, and from self-knowledge self-esteem, and from self-esteem desire not to stray, and from desire not to stray comes desire not to gratify herself. And you, Elicio, seeing how ill she responds to your wishes, give the name of cruelty to that which you should have called honourable reticence; and I do not wonder, for it is, after all, the condition proper to lovers who find small favour.' 'You would be right in what you have said, oh Thyrsis,' replied Elicio, 'if my desires were to wander from the path befitting her honour and modesty; but if they are so measured, as is due to her worth and reputation, what avails such disdain, such bitter and peevish replies, such open withdrawal of the face from him who has set all his glory on merely seeing it? Ah, Thyrsis, Thyrsis, how love must have placed you on the summit of its joys, since with so calm a spirit you speak of its effects! I do not know that what you say now goes well with what you once said when you sang: "Alas, from what a wealth of hope I come Unto a poor and faltering desire"-- with the rest you added to it.' Up to this point Erastro had been silent, watching what was passing between the shepherds, wondering to see their gentle grace and bearing, with the proofs each one gave of the great discretion he had. But seeing that from step to step they had been brought to reasoning on affairs of love, as one who was so experienced in them, he broke silence, and said: