Foglio, ch'egli, e queft' Che parli? ò che vaneggi? that he, and that cruel Creature, fhall drink my Blood with their Eyes. Thyr. Ah Aminta! Aminta, what are you talking? or why do you rave thus? comfort yourfelf now, for you will find another, if this cruel one difdains you. Am. Alas! how can I find another, if I cannot find my felf? if I have loft my felf, what Acquifition fhall I ever make that can please me? Thyr. Poor Man, never defpair of gaining her. Length of Time has taught Men to rein the Lions, and the Tygers of Arcania. Am But an unhappy Wretch can't a long time fuftain the Delay of his Death. flender Twig, or the pliant Ear of Corn before the Wind: but prithee, let me know something farther of thy hard Condition, and thy Love: For though you have often confeft to me that you was in Love, yet you never told me where you plac'd your Love: and our faithful Friendship, and our common ftudy of the Mufes, deferves, that what is conceal'd from others, should be difcover'd to me. Am. I am content, Thyrfis, to tell you that, which the Woods, the Mountains, and the Rivers know, though 'tis unknown to Men: for I am now fo near to Death, that there is good Reason that I fhou'd leave one behind who may relate the Caufe of my Death, and engrave it on the Bark of a Beech-tree, near the place where my deadBody fhall be buried. Sì Li paftori paefani, e pellegrini, Che quivi il cafo guidi, e forfe (ahi, fpero Troppo alte cofe) un giorno effer potrebbe, Ch'ella, commoffa da tarda pietate, Piangele morto, chi già vivo uccife; Dicendo, pur qui foffe, Ŏ e foffe mio! Hor odi. Hor odi. Tirfi, Segui pur, ch'io bent'afcolto, Eforfe à miglior fin, che tu non penfi. Am. Effendo io fanciulletto, sì che à pena Giunger potea con la man pargoletta A corre i frutti da i piega ti rami De gü arbofcelli, intrinfeco divenni that the cruel Maid when fhe paffes by, may take delight to trample my unhappy Bones with her proud Foot, and fay within herself, here lies my Triumph; and may rejoice to fee, that her Victory is known to all Country Shepherds, and the Strangers, whom chance directs this way: and perhaps (alas my Hopes are too high) a Day may come, when fhe, being mov'd with too late a Pity, may lament him dead, whom living the kill'd; and fay; oh were he here, and where he mine! Attend now. Thyr. Go on then, for I am attentive, and perhaps to better Purpose, than you imagine. Am. While I was yet fo young, that I could fcarce reach with my little Hand to gather fruit from the bending Boughs of the young Trees, I became ac Ꮓ quainted De la più vaga, e cara La figliuola conofci di Cidippe, E di Montan ricchiffimo d'armenti? Silvia, honor de le felve, ardor de l'alme, Di questa parlo, ahi laffo! viffi à questa Così unito che frà due Tortorelle più fida compag nia alcun tempo, quainted with the moft beautiful and deareft Maid, that e'er display'd her golden Hair to the Wind: know you the Daughter of Cidippa, and and of Montanus, fo wealthy in Cattle? Sylvia, the Honour of the Woods, the Paffion of Souls; of her I fpeak, Alas! I liv'd with her fo united for fome time, that between two Turtles there never will be, nor ever was a more faithful Alliance. Adjoining were our Habitations, but more adjoining our Hearts: alike were our Ages, but our Thoughts more alike: With her I us'd to spread the ensnaring Net for Fishes, and for Birds, and follow'd with her the Stags and swift Does; both our Diverfion and our Prey was common. But whilft I was making a Prey of Animals, I became, I know not how, a Prey my felf. By little and A poco a poco nacque nel Un non sò che d'amaro: Che cofa foffe Amore. Ben me n'accorfi al fin. and little there grew with- |