The royal face, the rigour of the law
Escapes—this ordinance is true indeed—
E'en so doth death before thy presence fly,
Oh fairest of the fair, harm doth withdraw,
And leaveth life and fortune in its stead.
As Thyrsis finished, all the instruments of the shepherds made such pleasing music that it gave great joy to any who heard it, being further aided from among the dense branches by a thousand kinds of painted birds, which seemed as in chorus to give them back reply with divine harmony. In this way they had gone on a stretch, when they came to an ancient hermitage standing on the slope of a hillock, not so far from the road but that they could hear the sound of a harp which some one, it seemed, was playing within. Erastro, hearing this, said:
'Stop, shepherds, for, as I think, we shall hear to-day what I have wished to hear for days, namely, the voice of a graceful youth, who, some twelve or fourteen days ago, came to spend within yon hermitage a life harder than it seems to me his few years can bear. Sometimes when I have passed this way, I have heard a harp being played and a voice sounding, so sweet that it has filled me with the keenest desire to listen to it; but I have always come at the moment he stayed his song; and though by speaking to him I have managed to become his friend, offering to his service all within my means and power, I have never been able to prevail with him to disclose to me who he is, and the causes which have moved him to come so young and settle in such solitude and retirement.'
What Erastro said about the young hermit, newly come there, filled the shepherds with the same desire of knowing him as he had; and so they agreed to approach the hermitage in such a way that without being perceived they might be able to hear what he sang, before they came to speak to him, and on doing this, they succeeded so well that they placed themselves in a spot where, without being seen or perceived, they heard him who was within uttering to the sound of his harp, verses such as these:
If Heaven, Love and Fortune have been pleased—
The fault was not mine own—
To set me thus in such a parlous state,
Vainly unto the air I make my moan,
Vainly on high was raised
Unto the moon the thought that seemed so great.
Oh cruel, cruel, fate!
By what mysterious and unwonted ways
Have my sweet joyous days
Been checked at such a pass in their career
That I am dying and e'en life do fear!
Enraged against myself I burn and glow
To see that I can bear
Such pains, and yet my heart breaks not; the wind
Receiveth not my soul, though vital air
Amidst my bitter woe
At last withdraws, and leaveth naught behind.
And there anew I find
That hope doth lend its aid to give me strength,
And, though but feigned, doth strengthen life at length,
'Tis not Heaven's pity, for it doth ordain
That to long life be given longer pain.