With what dread and fear oppressed
Ever is my loving mind!
And what opposites I find
In the love within my breast!
Leave me, poignant memory,
Forget, nor another's bliss
Call to mind, for lost in this
Thine own glory is to thee.
With such tokens thou affirmest
The love that is in thy breast;
By thy wrath I am oppressed,
Ever thou my woes confirmest;
By what laws of thine am I
Doomed to yield, Love, traitor fell!
Soul unto Silena's spell,
While she doth a word deny?
On points rousing bitter strife
I but for a moment dwell,
For the least of them might well
Leave me mad or without life;
Let my pen no further go,
Since thou mak'st it feel its doom,
'Tis not in my power to sum
In brief words so great a woe.
Whilst Lauso was occupied in repeating these verses, and in praising the unwonted beauty, discretion, grace, modesty, and worth of his shepherdess, the tedium of the way was lightened for him and Damon, and the time passed for them without being perceived, until they came near to Silerio's hermitage, which Timbrio, Nisida, and Blanca would not enter, so as not to alarm him by their unexpected arrival. But fate ordained it otherwise, for Thyrsis and Damon having approached to see what Silerio was doing, found the hermitage open, and without any one inside; and whilst they were filled with astonishment, without knowing where Silerio could be at such an hour, there came to their ears the sound of his harp, from which they understood that he could not be far away. And going to look for him, guided by the sound of the harp, they saw by the bright radiance of the moon, that he was seated on the trunk of an olive, alone and without other company than that of his harp, which he was playing so sweetly that to enjoy so gentle a harmony, the shepherds would not approach to speak to him, and the more so when they heard him beginning to sing with exquisite voice these verses:
SILERIO.
Swift fleeting hours of swiftly fleeting time,
That pass me by with wearied flight and slow,
If ye are not conspired unto my woe,
Be pleased to end me now, for 'tis full time.
If now ye end me, 'twill be at a time
When my misfortunes can no further go;
See, if ye linger, they will lesser grow,
For evil endeth if it bides its time.
I do not ask that ye should come, with pleasure
And sweetness filled, since ye no path will gain
To the life I have lost to lead me back.
Hours, to all others blissful beyond measure,
Grant me but the sweet hour of mortal pain,
Even death's hour—this boon alone I lack.
After the shepherds listened to what Silerio had sung without his seeing them, they turned to meet the others who were coming there, with the intent that Timbrio should do what you shall now hear. This was, that, having told him how they had found Silerio, and in the place where he was, Thyrsis asked him that, without any of them letting themselves be recognised by him, they should gradually go approaching towards him, whether he saw them or not—for though the night was bright, no one would be recognised on that account—and that he should likewise make Nisida or himself sing something; and all this he did to moderate the joy Silerio must needs feel from their arrival. Timbrio was satisfied with this, and Nisida, being told it, came to be of his opinion too; and so, when it seemed to Thyrsis that they were now so near that they could be heard by Silerio, he caused the fair Nisida to begin; and she, to the sound of the jealous Orfenio's rebeck, began to sing in this wise: