BOOK V.
So great was the desire the love-sick Timbrio and the two fair sisters Nisida and Blanca felt to reach Silerio's hermitage that the swiftness of their steps, though it was great, could not come up to that of their will; and, knowing this, Thyrsis and Damon would not press Timbrio to fulfil the word he had given to relate to them on the way all that had happened during his travels after he departed from Silerio. Nevertheless, carried away by the desire they had to learn it, they were just going to ask it of him, had there not at that moment smitten the ears of all the voice of a shepherd, who was singing amongst some green trees a little way off the road; from the somewhat untuneful sound of his voice, and from what he was singing, he was at once recognised by most of those who were coming along, especially by his friend Damon, for it was the shepherd Lauso who was repeating some verses to the sound of a small rebeck. And because the shepherd was so well known, and all had learned of the change which had taken place in his inclination, they checked their steps of one accord, and stopped to listen to what Lauso was singing, which was this:
LAUSO.
Who hath come a slave to make
Of my thought, with freedom filled?
Who, where fortune did forsake,
Lofty towers of wind could build
On foundations doomed to break?
Who my freedom took away,
What time I in safety lay,
And with life was satisfied?
Who my breast hath opened wide,
And hath made my will decay?
Whither hath the fancy flown
Of my scornful, loveless mind?
Whither the soul I called my own?
And the heart that none may find
Where it was—whither hath it gone?
Where can my whole being be?
Whence come I and whither flee?
Know I aught of this my pass?
Am I he that once I was,
Or have I been never he?
On myself I call to explain,
Yet I cannot prove the truth,
Since to this pass I attain
That of what I was in youth
But a shadow I remain;
Knowledge how myself to know,
Help to help myself—these go
Far from me, and sure I find
Woe 'midst such confusion blind,
Yet I think not of my woe.
In this hapless state I lie,
Captive to my sorrow's power,
To the love that doth comply,
Thus the present I adore,
And bewail the days gone by;
In the present I perceive
That I die, and that I live
In the past; now death I hold
Sweet, and in the days of old
Fate, that bliss no more can give.
Blind am I, my woe is great
In so strange an agony,
For I see that Love doth prate,
And that in the flames I lie,
Yet 'tis water cold I hate;
Save the water from mine eyes,
Of the fire the fuel and prize,
In the forge of Love I crave
Water none, nor seek to have
Other comfort to my sighs.
All my bliss would now begin,
All my sorrow now would end,
If my fortune willed herein
That my faith should from my friend
For its truth assurance win;
Come and tell Silena, sighs,
Come, instruct Silena, eyes
Filled with tears, that this is true;
Come, confirm it, each of you,
Pen and tongue and faculties.