by their own longing. See, the ox comes homewith plough up-tilted, and the shadows growto twice their length with the departing sun,yet me love burns, for who can limit love?Ah! Corydon, Corydon, what hath crazed your wit?Your vine half-pruned hangs on the leafy elm;why haste you not to weave what need requiresof pliant rush or osier? Scorned by this,elsewhere some new Alexis you will find.”
MENALCAS DAMOETAS PALAEMONMENALCASWho owns the flock, Damoetas? Meliboeus?DAMOETASNay, they are Aegon's sheep, of late by himcommitted to my care.MENALCASO every wayunhappy sheep, unhappy flock! while hestill courts Neaera, fearing lest her choiceshould fall on me, this hireling shepherd herewrings hourly twice their udders, from the flockfilching the life-juice, from the lambs their milk.DAMOETASHold! not so ready with your jeers at men!We know who once, and in what shrine with you—