GORGO.

Look here, Praxinoe! Mark that fine embroidery !
How delicate and rich! 'tis sure the work

Of more than mortal fingers.

PRAXINOE.

What weaver could have made this stuff?

Mark'd out so gloriously those forms?

Great Minerva !

What limner

What nature

Well! well!

Oh how beautiful

And truth they stand and move withal! I swear

There's life there and no needle work.
Man is a wondrous creature.

The youthful God lies on his silver bed!

Dearest Adonis!

Look kindly on.

Thee the very shades

SECOND MAN.

Nay, hold your clacking, gossips!

A pair of chattering pies! I can't abide
Your coarse, broad Syracusan.

GORGO.

Heyday, man!

Who made thee our task-master?

Magpies are we?
Syracusans!

Catch us, then, if you'd cage us!
I'd have you know, sir, that we came from Corinth,
And speak like good Corinthians. 'Tis a hard case
If women may 'nt converse in their own language.

PRAXINOE.

Well answer'd, sweet-heart! we'll not be brow-beaten. I wish the rogue may not prove mischievous.

GORGO.

Hush! hush! Praxinoe! for the Grecian girl
Prepares to sing. 'Tis she that led so lately

The dirge of Sperchis. She'll do wonders, - hark!

A sweet, ingenious ditty! Let me tell thee,
Praxinoe, that same minstrel is endow'd

With a rare wit, and what she doth invent
She clothes in delicate language. Come, away!
My husband is yet dinnerless. At best
He hath a testy humor, and when fasting
Is a mere savage. Fare thee well, Adonis !

493

THE EXILE'S LAMENT.

IMITATED FROM THE FIRST ECLOGUE OF VIRGIL.

[Boston Miscellany, September, 1842.]

AFTER the close of the civil wars, which ended in the acknowledgment of Augustus as Emperor of Rome, the territory of several of the Italian cities was confiscated, and distributed in lots among his disbanded soldiers. Among these cities was Cremona, and the territory not having held out as well as was expected, a portion of that of the neighboring city of Mantua was taken sans cérémonie to make up the deficiency. Hence, the well known verse in another Eclogue, Mantua, væ miseræ nimium vicina Cremona! Among the occupants of the Mantuan territory thus invaded was the poet Virgil; but on his personal application to Augustus for redress, his property was restored to him and secured in his possession.

These incidents form the subject of the poet's first and best eclogue, in which he introduces himself in the character of a shepherd under the name of Tityrus; describes his journey to Rome for the purpose of laying his case before the emperor; expresses his gratitude for the protection afforded him, and condoles with his neighbor Melibæus, who laments very bitterly the necessity of quitting his paternal property. The personage of Melibœus is rather more prominent than the other, and suggested the title, which has been prefixed to the imitation.

CHARACTERS.

FIRST SHEPHERD, called in the original, MELIBEUS.

SECOND SHEPHERD, TITY RUs.

The former having quitted his cottage on his way into exile, accompanied by his flock, passes the house of his neighbor representing the Poet, whom he finds reclining under a beech-tree, and holds the following dialogue with him.

First Shepherd.

While you, my friend! beneath your beech-tree laid,
Whose spreading branches yield so cool a shade,
Attune your oaten pipe to sylvan lays

And make the woods resound with your Aminta's praise; We, hapless exiles, forc'd afar to roam,

Leave our lov'd fields and all the joys of home.

Second Shepherd.

Oh Melibœus! sure a god bestow'd

The blessing on me; he shall be a god
To me forever: at his honor'd shrine

Shall often bleed some tender lamb of mine,
The generous Prince, who heard and did befriend
An humble shepherd, gave him leave to tend
His flocks at pasture on their wonted plains
And freely sing his own dear rustic strains.

First Shepherd.

Oh, blest with all a shepherd need desire!
I may not envy, but I must admire

Your happy fortune, thus to hold your ground
When wild confusion shakes the country round.
But I, less favor'd, feel the general shock;
Forsake my home, and sadly drive my flock
To exile with me. ́All unus'd to pain,
The puny wanderers scarce the toil sustain.
This ewe, that fainting in my arms I hold,
Just bore me twins, - the promise of the fold,
But all too weak to join the travelling flock,
Poor things! I left them on the naked rock.
Alas! good friend! too well I now recall
The various omens that foretold it all.

For this the lightning struck so many an oak;
For this the crow would sit for hours and croak

On

yon old holm-tree: signs, that might have taught. A child, had I, dull fool, but mark'd them as I ought. No more of this, nor let my selfishness

By such complaints your faithful heart distress