An empty hope that passes on the wind,
A tangled night where none the day may find,
A straying of the soul that will not see.
These are the very roots wherefrom, I swear,
This old chimera fabled hath its birth,
Which beareth o'er the world the name of Love.
The soul that thus on Love doth set its care,
Deserveth to be banished from the earth,
And win no shelter in the heavens above.
At the time that Lenio was singing what you have heard, Elicio and Erastro had already come up with their flocks in the company of the hapless Lisandro; and Elicio, thinking that Lenio's tongue in speaking ill of love went beyond what was right, wished clearly to show him his error, and, adopting the very theme of the verses he had sung, at the moment Galatea, Florisa, Teolinda and the other shepherds came up, to the sound of Erastro's pipe he began to sing in this wise: