Who such a life as this will hold in scorn?
Who will not say that this is life alone,
Which hath the comfort of the soul pursued?
A courtier may in loathing from it turn.
This makes its goodness unto him be known
Who hath the good desired, the ill eschewed:
Oh life of solitude,
Wherein one doth his crowded joys refine!
Oh pastoral lowliness,
Higher than loftiness
Of the most lofty and exalted line!
Oh shady woodland, flowers whose fragrance fills
The air, pellucid rills!
I for a moment brief could taste your bliss,
But that my constant ills
Soon would disturb so fair a life as this!
Song, thou dost go to where thy poverty,
To where thy wealth will all too soon be seen,
Say thou with prayerful mien
And humble, if but breath be given thee;
"Lord, pardon! he who sends me to thy side,
In thee and in his wishes doth confide."
'This, gentlemen, is Lauso's song,' said Damon on finishing it; 'which was as much extolled by Larsileo as it was well received by those who saw it at the time.'
'With reason you can say so,' replied Darinto, 'since its truth and workmanship are worthy of just praises.'
'These are the songs to my taste,' said the loveless Lenio at this moment, 'and not those which every instant come to my ears, full of a thousand simple amorous conceits, so badly arranged and involved, that I will venture to swear that there are some, which neither the hearer, however discreet he be, can comprehend, nor the composer understand. But no less wearisome are others, which entangle themselves in giving praises to Cupid, and in exaggerating his powers, his worth, his wonders and miracles, making him lord of Heaven and earth, giving him a thousand other attributes of might, dominion and lordship; and what wearies me more than those who make them, is that, when they speak of love, they mean a someone undefined, whom they call Cupid, the very meaning of whose name declares to us what he is, namely a vain and sensual appetite, worthy of all reproof.'
The loveless Lenio spoke, and indeed he was certain to end in, speaking ill of love; but as nearly all who were there knew his disposition, they did not give much heed to his reasonings, except Erastro, who said to him:
'Do you think, Lenio, by chance, that you are always speaking to a simple Erastro, who cannot contradict your opinions, or reply to your arguments? Then I wish to warn you that it will be wise for you to be silent for the present, or at least to discuss other matters than speaking ill of love, unless indeed you would have Thyrsis's and Damon's discretion and learning restoring your sight, from the blindness in which you are, and showing you clearly what they understand, and what you should understand, of love and of its affairs.'
'What will they be able to tell me that I do not know?' said Lenio, 'or what shall I be able to reply to them but what they are ignorant of?'
'This is pride, Lenio,' replied Elicio, 'and therein you show how far you go from the path of love's truth, and that you guide yourself more by the pole-star of your opinion and fancy, than by that whereby you should be guided, namely that of truth and experience.'
'Nay rather by reason of the great experience I have of its works,' replied Lenio, 'am I as opposed to it as I show, and shall show so long as my life shall last.'