MENALCAS Who owns the flock, Damoetas? Meliboeus?

DAMOETAS Nay, they are Aegon's sheep, of late by him Committed to my care.

MENALCAS

O every way Unhappy sheep, unhappy flock! while he Still courts Neaera, fearing lest her choice Should fall on me, this hireling shepherd here Wrings hourly twice their udders, from the flock Filching the life- juice, from the lambs their milk.

DAMOETAS Hold! not so ready with your jeers at men! We know who once, and in what shrine with you- The he-goats looked aside- the light nymphs laughed-MENALCAS Ay, then, I warrant, when they saw me slash Micon's young vines and trees with spiteful hook.

DAMOETAS Or here by these old beeches, when you broke The bow and arrows of Damon; for you chafed When first you saw them given to the boy, Cross-grained Menalcas, ay, and had you not Done him some mischief, would have chafed to death.

MENALCAS With thieves so daring, what can masters do? Did I not see you, rogue, in ambush lie For Damon's goat, while loud Lycisca barked? And when I cried, "Where is he off to now? Gather your flock together, Tityrus," You hid behind the sedges.

DAMOETAS

Well, was he Whom I had conquered still to keep the goat. Which in the piping-match my pipe had won! You may not know it, but the goat was mine.

MENALCAS You out-pipe him? when had you ever pipe Wax-welded? in the cross-ways used you not On grating straw some miserable tune To mangle?

DAMOETAS

Well, then, shall we try our skill Each against each in turn? Lest yoube loth, I pledge this heifer; every day she comes Twice to the milking-pail, and feeds withal Two young ones at her udder: say you now What you will stake upon the match with me.

MENALCAS Naught from the flock I'll venture, for at home I have a father and a step-dame harsh, And twice a day both reckon up the flock, And one withal the kids. But I will stake, Seeing you are so mad, what you yourself Will own more priceless far- two beechen cups By the divine art of Alcimedon Wrought and embossed, whereon a limber vine, Wreathed round them by the graver's facile tool, Twines over clustering ivy-berries pale. Two figures, one Conon, in the midst he set, And one- how call you him, who with his wand Marked out for all men the whole round of heaven, That they who reap, or stoop behind the plough, Might know their several seasons? Nor as yet Have I set lip to them, but lay them by.

DAMOETAS For me too wrought the same Alcimedon A pair of cups, and round the handles wreathed Pliant acanthus, Orpheus in the midst, The forests following in his wake; nor yet Have I set lip to them, but lay them by. Matched with a heifer, who would prate of cups?

MENALCAS You shall not balk me now; where'er you bid, I shall be with you; only let us have For auditor- or see, to serve our turn, Yonder Palaemon comes! In singing-bouts I'll see you play the challenger no more.

DAMOETAS Out then with what you have; I shall not shrink, Nor budge for any man: only do you, Neighbour Palaemon, with your whole heart's skill- For it is no slight matter-play your part.

PALAEMON Say on then, since on the greensward we sit, And now is burgeoning both field and tree; Now is the forest green, and now the year At fairest. Do you first, Damoetas, sing, Then you, Menalcas, in alternate strain: Alternate strains are to the Muses dear.