Page:Virgil's Pastorals, Georgics and Aeneis - Dryden (1709) - volume 1.pdf/141

Past. III. Thou, Varlet, dost thy Master's gains devour: Thou milk'st his Ewes, and often twice an hour; Of Grass and Fodder thou defraud'st the Dams: And of their Mothers Dugs the starving Lambs. Good words, young Catamite, at least to Men: We know who did your Business, how, and when. And in what Chappel too you plaid your Prize; And what the Goats observ'd with leering Eyes: The Nymphs were kind, and laught, and there your safety lyes. Yes, when I crept the Hedges of the Leys; Cut Micon's tender Vines, and stole the Stays. Or rather, when beneath yon ancient Oak, The Bow of Daphnis and the Shafts you broke: When the fair Boy receiv'd the Gift of right; And but for Mischief, you had dy'd for spight. What Nonsense wou'd the Fool thy Master prate, When thou, his Knave, canst talk at such a rate! Did I not see you, Rascal, did I not! When you lay snug to snap young Damon's Goat? His Mungril bark'd, I ran to his relief, And cry'd, There, there he goes; stop, stop the Thief. Discover'd and defeated of your Prey, You sculk'd behind the Fence, and sneak'd away.