[Footnote 494: 'Maidens of Helicon, who love the fountains and the pleasant fields, as you are dearer to me than the dear light, have pity now upon your suppliant, take me from the tumult of the noisy town, and place me in my tranquil farm.'] He is never tired of contrasting the pleasures of the country with the noise and weariness of Rome:-- Ipse miser tumultuosâ Urbe detinear; tibi benignus Dedit Jupiter in remoto agello Latentem placidâ frui quiete, Inter Socraticos libros, et inter Nymphas et Satyros, nihil profani Curantem populi leves honores.[495] [Footnote 495: 'I, poor wretch, am prisoned in the noisy town. Kind Jupiter allows you, secluded in your distant farm, to take the joys of peace among Socratic books, among the nymphs and satyrs, unheeding the light honours of the vulgar crowd.'--'Ad Honoratum Fascitellum,' _Poemata Selecta_, p. 178.] Flaminio's thought of the country is always connected with the thought of study. The picture of a tranquil scholar's life among the fields, diversified by sport and simple pleasures of the rustic folk, gives freshness to his hendecasyllables, whether addressed to his patron Alessandro Farnese, or to his friends Galeazzo Florimonte and Francesco Torriani:[496]-- Inde ocellos Ut primum sopor incubans gravabit, Jucundissime amice, te sub antrum Ducam, quod croceis tegunt corymbis Serpentes hederæ, imminensque laurus Suaviter foliis susurrat: at tu Ne febrim metuas gravedinemve; Est enim locus innocens: ubi ergo Hic satis requieveris, legentur Lusus Virgilii, et Syracusani Vatis, quo nihil est magis venustum, Nihil dulcius, ut mihi videtur. Cum se fregerit æstus, in virenti Convalle spatiabimur; sequetur Brevis coena; redibis inde ad urbem.[497] [Footnote 496: _Poemata Selecta_, pp. 153, 169, 173.] [Footnote 497: 'Then, when sleep descends upon your eyes, best friend of mine, I'll lead you to a cave o'ercurtained by the wandering ivy's yellow bunches, whereby the sheltering laurel murmurs with her gently waving leaves. Fear no fever or dull headache. The place is safe. So when you are rested, we will read the rustic songs of Virgil or Theocritus; sweet and more charming verse I know not; and after the day's heat is past, we will stroll in some green valley. A light supper follows, and then you shall return to town.'--_Ib._ p. 174.]