[Iohannes De Virgilio Danti Alagherii. Ecloga Responsiva].

Forte sub inriguos colles, ubi Sarpina Rheno 
obvia fit, viridi niveos interlita crines 
nympha procax, fueram nativo conditus antro. 
Frondentes ripas tondebant sponte iuvenci, 
mollia carpebant agne, dumosa capelle. 
Quid facerem? nam solus eram puer incola silve: 
irruerant alii causis adigentibus urbem, 
nec tum Nisa michi nec respondebat Alexis, 
suetus uterque comes. Calamos moderabar ydraules 
falce recurvella, cuncte solamina, quando 
litoris Adriaci resonantem Tityron umbra, 
qua dense longo pretexunt ordine pinus 
pascua, porrecte celo genioque locali, 
alida myrtetis et humi florentibus herbis, 
quaque nec arentes Aries fluvialis arenas 
esse sinit, molli dum postulat equora villo, 
retulit ipse michi flantis leve sibilus Euri, 
quo vocalis odor per Menala celsa profusus 
balsamat auditus et lac distillat in ora, 
quale nec a longo meminerunt tempore mulsum 
custodes gregium, quanquam tamen Archades omnes. 
Archades exultant audito carmine Nymphe 
pastoresque boves et oves hirteque capelle 
arrectisque onagri decursant auribus ipsi: 
ipsi etiam Fauni saliunt de colle Licei. 
Et mecum: «Si cantat oves et Tityrus hircos 
aut armenta trahit, quianam civile canebas 
urbe sedens carmen, quando hoc Benacia quondam 
pastorale sonans detrivit fistula labrum? 
Audiat in silvis et te cantare bubulcum». 
Nec mora, depostis calami maioribus, inter 
arripio tenues et labris flantibus hysco. 
A, divine senex, a sic eris alter ab illo! 
Alter es, aut idem, Samio si credere vati 
sic liceat Mopso, sicut liceat Melibeo. 
Eheu pulvereo quod stes in tegmine scabro 
et merito indignans singultes pascua Sarni 
rapta tuis gregibus, ingrate dedecus urbi, 
humectare genas lacrimarum flumine Mopso 
parce tuo, nec te crucia crudelis et illum, 
cuius amor tantum, tantum complectitur, inquam, 
iam te, blande senex, quanto circunligat ulmum 
proceram vitis per centum vincula nexu. 
O si quando sacros iterum flavescere canos 
fonte tuo videas et ab ipsa Phillide pexos, 
quam visando tuas tegetes miraberis uvas! 
Ast intermedium pariat ne tedia tempus 
letitie, spectare potes quibus otior antris 
et mecum pausare. Simul cantabimus ambo: 
ipse levi calamo, sed tu gravitate magistrum 
firmius insinuans, ne quem sua deserat etas. 
Ut venias, locus ipse vocat: fons humidus intus 
antra rigat, que saxa tegunt, virgulta flabellant; 
circiter origanum redolet; quoque causa soporis 
herba papaveris est, oblivia, qualiter aiunt, 
grata creans; serpylla tibi substernet Alexis, 
quem Corydon vocet ipse rogem; tibi Nisa lavabit 
ipsa pedes accinta libens cenamque parabit; 
Testilis hec inter piperino polvere fungos 
condiet, et permixta doment multa allia, si quos 
forsitan inprudens Melibeus legerit hortis; 
ut comedas apium memorabunt mella susurri; 
poma leges Niseque genas equantia mandes, 
pluraque servabis nimio defensa decore. 
Iamque superserpunt hedere radicibus antrum, 
serta parata tibi. Nulla est cessura voluptas. 
Huc ades: huc venient, qui te pervisere gliscent, 
Parrhasii iuvenesque senes, et carmina leti 
qui nova mirari cupiantque antiqua doceri. 
Hi tibi silvestres capreas, hi tergora lincum 
orbiculata ferent, tuus ut Melibeus amabat. 
Huc ades, et nostros timeas neque, Tityre, saltus; 

namque fidem celse concusso vertice pinus 
glandifereque etiam quercusque arbusta dedere. 
Non hic insidie, non hic iniuria, quantas 
esse putas. Non ipse michi te fidis amanti? 
sunt forsan mea regna tibi despecta? Sed ipsi 
di non erubuere cavis habitare sub antris: 
testis Achilleus Chyron et pastor Apollo. 
Mopse, quid es demens? Quia non permittet Iollas 
comis et urbanus, dum sunt tua rustica dona, 
hisque tabernaclis non est modo tutius antrum, 
quis potius ludat. Sed te quis mentis anhelum 
ardor agit, vel que pedibus nova nata cupido? 
Miratur puerum virgo, puer ipse volucrem, 
et volucris silvas et silve flamina verna; 
Tityre, te Mopsus: miratio gignit amorem. 
Me contempne: sitim frigio Musone levabo, 
scilicet, hoc nescis? fluvio potabor avito. 
Quid tamen interea mugit mea bucula circum? 
quadrifluumne gravat coxis humentibus uber? 
Sic reor: en propero situlas inplere capaces 
lacte novo, quo dura queant mollescere crusta. 
Ad mulctrale veni, si tot mandabimus illi 
vascula, quot nobis promisit Tityrus ipse. 
Sed lac pastori fors est mandare superbum. 
Dum loquor, en comites, et sol de monte rotabat. 
 

[Giovanni del Virgilio to Dante Alighieri. Eclogue in Response]. 


It chanced, beneath the well-watered slopes where Sarpina,  
entwined with green about her snowy locks, a sportive nymph,  
encounters Rhenus, I was ensconced within my native grot.  
The kine were shearing at their ease the grassy banks,  
the lambs cropping the soft, the goats the brambly spots.  
What should I do? For I was the only swain then lingering  
in the wood. The rest had hastened citywards summoned  
by their affairs; nor then was Nisa nor Alexis (a wonted  
comrade each) there answering me. I was shaping  
water-reeds with the curved hook, in solace of my leisure,  
when the song that Tityrus was singing beneath the shade  
of the Adriatic shore, where the thick pinewoods reaching  
up to heaven and the genius of the place fringe in long rows  
the pasture lands, redolent with myrtle groves and low-flowering herbs;  
and where the streaming Aries suffers not the very sands to parch, 
as with lush fleece he seeks the ocean, came wafted spontaneously  
to me by the whispering of light-blowing Eurus; that whispering  
whereat the fragrance of song, pouring through the lofty Maenalus,  
soothes the hearing and drops milk into the mouth;  
such sweet draught as the guardians of the flocks  
mind not since long, Arcadians though they be all.  
The nymphs of Arcady exult to hear the song, 
and shepherds, oxen, sheep, and shaggy goats; and even 
the wild asses rush down with pricking ears 
and the very Fauns leap down from mount Lycaeus.  
And to myself: "If Tityrus sings of sheep and goats, 
or draws the herds in song, why didst thou sing a city lay, 
sitting within the city,  since ere now the Benacian flute 
of pastoral sound hath worn this lip of thine? Let him 
hear thee too sing as a herdsman in the woodlands." 
Without more delay, casting the greater reeds aside, 
I seize the slender ones and part my lips to blow: 
"Ah, divine old man, thus shalt thou be second 
from him, second thou art, or art himself if Mopsus,  
and if Melibaeus with him, may, so far trust the Samian bard. 
Ah me! for that thou should'st hide under a foul and crumbling  
roof, and rightfully indignant should'st sigh for the pastures  
of Sarnus torn from thy flocks (shame to the ungrateful city!),  
spare to wet thy Mopsus' cheeks with floods of tears;  
nor cruelly torment both him and thee,  
him whose love now clasps thee, yea, so clasps,  
benign old man, as doth the vine, with hundred links entwine  
the lofty elm in her embrace. Oh shouldst thou ever see  
thy sacred hoary locks glow once again, mirrored  
in thine own stream, and decked by Phyllis' self,  
how wilt thou gaze wondering upon the grapes when thou visitest  
thy cot! But lest the time between should bring thee weariness, 
thou mayst look upon the grots of pleasaunce wherein I am at ease,  
and mayst have rest with me. We both will sing together, 
I with light reed and thou, gravely displaying with firmer touch  
the master-hand, that each one may observe his age. The very place  
inviteth thee to come; a flowing spring, within, waters the grot  
rock-fenced and fanned by wands; sweet marjoram  
scents it around, and for sleep's sake the poppy-plant  
is there, creating, as they say, oblivion sweet.  
Alexis shall spread wild thyme to be thy couch,  
for I myself would bid Corydon summon him. Nisa herself  
shall gladly gird her to wash thy feet and shall prepare thy meal,  
while Testilis shall dress with pounded pepper the mushrooms,  
and many a shred of mingled garlic may avert the harm,  
if Melibaeus have been careless as he culled them in the orchards.  
The murmuring of the bees shall move thine appetite for honey;  
apples shalt thou pluck and shalt eat of such as rival Nisa's cheeks;  
and many another shalt thou keep, protected by exceeding beauty;  
and already is the ivy o'er-creeping with its roots the grotto,  
with garlands all in readiness for thee. No pleasure shall be lacking.  
Hither come! Hither shall come Parrhasian swains, both old and young,  
who long to see thee; and hither all who be fain to hear new songs  
to marvel at, and to be taught the old. They shall bring  
woodland roes to thee and spotted hides of lynxes,  
as was thy Melibaeus' wont. Come hither, and fear not  
our groves O Tityrus! For the lofty pines, bowing  

their heads together, and acorn-bearing oaks 
and every shrub, have given thee their pledge.  
Here are no snares, no wrong to fear such as thou deemest.  
Wilt thou not trust thyself to me who love thee? Or are  
my realms perchance despised of thee? Yet even very gods  
have not blushed to dwell in hollow caves; witness  
Achilles' Chiron, and pastoral Apollo! Ah Mopsus!  
how art thou raving? In sooth Iolas will not suffer it.  
Courteous and with cityways is he, whilst thy gifts are but rustic;  
and no cave is safer now than are those tabernacles; wherein let him  
have leave to sport. But what this passion of mind that drives thee  
panting forward? What this new yearning mastering thy feet? The girl  
admiring, looks upon the swain, the swain himself upon a bird,  
the bird upon the woods, the woods upon the breath of spring, Mopsus,  
O Tityrus, upon thee. 'Tis admiration that gives birth to love. Yet scorn me  
if thou wilt! Thy thirst will I allay with Phrygian Muso; whilst I myself  
(thou know'st not this, I take it) shall be borne on my ancestral stream.  
But wherefore doth my heifer low around, the while? 
Doth her four-streaming udder weigh her down with moistened thighs?  
I think it. See I haste to fill capacious pails with the new milk,  
wherein hard crusts may soften. Come to the milk-pail!  
What if I send as many vessels full  
to him as Tityrus' self hath promised me.  
Yet may it not perchance seem insolent to send a shepherd milk?" The whilst  
I speak behold my comrades, and from the mount the sun was rolling down.