MENALCAS.
Unhappy sheep, of an unhappy swain! }
While he Neæra courts, but courts in vain, }
And fears that I the damsel shall obtain. }
Thou, varlet, dost thy master's gains devour;
Thou milk'st his ewes, and often twice an hour;
Of grass and fodder thou defraud'st the dams,
And of their mothers' dugs the starving lambs.
DAMŒTAS.
Good words, young catamite, at least to men.
We know who did your business, how, and when;
And in what chapel too you played your prize, }
And what the goats observed with leering eyes: }
The nymphs were kind, and laughed; and there your safety lies. }
MENALCAS.
Yes, when I cropt the hedges of the leys,
Cut Micon's tender vines, and stole the stays!
DAMŒTAS.
Or rather, when, beneath yon ancient oak,
The bow of Daphnis, and the shafts, you broke,
When the fair boy received the gift of right;
And, but for mischief, you had died for spite.
MENALCAS.
What nonsense would the fool, thy master, prate,
When thou, his knave, canst talk at such a rate!
Did I not see you, rascal, did I not,
When you lay snug to snap young Damon's goat?
His mongrel barked; I ran to his relief,
And cried,—"There, there he goes! stop, stop the thief!"
Discovered, and defeated of your prey,
You skulked behind the fence, and sneaked away.