Should, as of late, dry up the flow of milk,
Then vainly would our hands their udders press.
Dam.Alas, how lean of flesh, amidst the tares
My bull has grown! well, love has wrought the same
Ruin, alike to herd and herdsmen both.
Men.Nay, but love certainly is not the cause
With these—why, to their bones they scarcely cling,
What evil eye is cast on my young lambs?
Dam.If thou canst tell me in what lands the sky
Seems but three ells in width, thou shalt to me
Be as the great Apollo oracle.
Men.Rather tell me where I can find the lands
In which flowers bloom, printed with names of kings,
Then Phyllis shalt thou claim, as all thine own.
Palæmon.Such rivalry as yours, I cannot judge
The heifer both of you deserve, and so,
Whoever fears sweet love, or tasted has
Love's bitterness, that one is worthy too.
Lads! it is time to turn the streams aside
The thirsty meadows now have drunk their fill.
18
