"_Rivi_ signifies no such thing; but then, that bees should be drunk with flowery shrubs, or goats be drunk with brouze, for drunk's the verb, is a very quaint thought." After much more to the same purpose, Milbourne thus introduces his own version of the first Eclogue, with a confidence worthy of a better cause:--"That Mr. Dryden might be satisfied that I'd offer no foul play, nor find faults in him, without giving him an opportunity of retaliation, I have subjoined another metaphrase or translation of the first and fourth pastoral, which I desire may be read with his by the original. TITYRUS. ECLOGUE I. _Mel._ Beneath a spreading beech you, Tityrus, lie, And country songs to humble reeds apply; We our sweet fields, our native country fly, We leave our country; you in shades may lie, And Amaryllis fair and blythe proclaim, And make the woods repeat her buxom name. _Tit._ O Melibaeus! 'twas a bounteous God, These peaceful play-days on our muse bestowed; At least, he'st alway be a God to me; My lambs shall oft his grateful offerings be. Thou seest, he lets my herds securely stray, And me at pleasure on my pipe to play. _Mel._ Your peace I don't with looks of envy view, But I admire your happy state, and you. In all our farms severe distraction reigns, No ancient owner there in peace remains. Sick, I, with much ado, my goats can drive, This Tityrus, I scarce can lead alive; On the bare stones, among yon hazels past, Just now, alas! her hopeful twins she cast. Yet had not all on's dull and senseless been, We'd long agon this coming stroke foreseen. Oft did the blasted oaks our fate unfold, And boding choughs from hollow trees foretold. But say, good Tityrus! tell me who's the God, Who peace, so lost to us, on you bestow'd?"