But the nearest approach to a dramatic composition made by Juan de la Enzina is to be found in two eclogues between “The Esquire that turns Shepherd,” and “The Shepherds that turn Courtiers”; both of which should be taken together and examined as one whole, though, in his simplicity, the poet makes them separate and independent of each other.[445] In the first, a shepherdess, who is a coquette, shows herself well disposed to receive Mingo, one of the shepherds, for her lover, till a certain gay esquire presents himself, whom, after a fair discussion, she prefers to accept, on condition he will turn shepherd;--an unceremonious transformation, with which, and the customary _villancico_, the piece concludes. The second eclogue, however, at its opening, shows the esquire already tired of his pastoral life, and busy in persuading all the shepherds, somewhat in the tone of Touchstone in “As you like it,” to go to court, and become courtly. In the dialogue that follows, an opportunity occurs, which is not neglected, for a satire on court manners, and for natural and graceful praise of life in the country. But the esquire carries his point. They change their dresses, and set forth gayly upon their adventures, singing, by way of finale, a spirited _villancico_ in honor of the power of Love, that can thus transform shepherds to courtiers, and courtiers to shepherds. [445] These are the two eclogues, “Pascuala, Dios te mantenga!” (f. 86,) and “Ha, Mingo, quedaste atras” (f. 88). They were, I have little doubt, represented in succession, with a pause between, like that between the acts of a modern play, in which Enzina presented a copy of his Works to the Duke and Duchess, and promised to write no more poetry unless they ordered him to do it. The most poetical passage in the two eclogues is one in which Mingo, the best of the shepherds, still unpersuaded to give up his accustomed happy life in the country, describes its cheerful pleasures and resources, with more of natural feeling, and more of a pastoral air, than are found anywhere else in these singular dialogues. But look ye, Gil, at morning dawn, How fresh and fragrant are the fields; And then what savory coolness yields The cabin’s shade upon the lawn. And he that knows what ’t is to rest Amidst his flocks the livelong night, Sure he can never find delight In courts, by courtly ways oppressed. O, what a pleasure ’t is to hear The cricket’s cheerful, piercing cry! And who can tell the melody His pipe affords the shepherd’s ear? Thou know’st what luxury ’t is to drink, As shepherds do, when worn with heat, From the still fount, its waters sweet, With lips that gently touch their brink; Or else, where, hurrying on, they rush And frolic down their pebbly bed, O, what delight to stoop the head, And drink from out their merry gush![446]