University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

The front of Galatea's Farm.
Enter Galatea, Phyllis, Amaryllis, Melibœus, Menalcas, Alphesibœus, and Peasants.
Melibœus.
O Galatea! whom three flocks obey,
Queen of our butter-milk, and curds and whey,
Receive the pastoral gifts I bring to-day.
This yellow swan-marked butter, that you see,
Was churned from my fawn-coloured Alderney.
And here are cheeses three, soft, round, and white,
Pressed by my three deft maidens in a night.
No defter maidens in our village dwell,
Nor Phyllis' self can press a cheese so well.
Last take this bowl of cream all yellowy, which
On the low marshlands of my farm grew rich,
Thick round the ladle curled, in foam-bells blown
By early winds,—and all for Corydon.

Menalcas.
O Galatea! on whose walls I know
The softest peaches and big nectarines grow,
Take these more humble fruits my hands bestow.
Apples of various kinds, these—I forget
Their name, and these the Kentish Fillbasket;
Their cheeks all red and glowing you may see
As when they fell last autumn from the tree.
A bantam's eggs, soft-curved, in hay-wisps pressed,
White as new milk, just taken from the nest.
Cider and mead I bring, and a vast scone
Of honeyed barley, all for Corydon.

Alphesibœus.
Sweet mistress Galatea! though I knew
No mortal feeds such lusty hens as you,
Yet as I could I brought my offerings too.
This is the hen Myrtilla used to beg,
And this the goose that lays the golden egg.
And,—as this morning through the woods we wound,
I heard the coo of doves, and climbing found
A pair of turtles, which shall make their moan,
If Galatea please, for Corydon.

Galatea.
Thanks, gentle friends; no mean bequests you bring,
A whole heart consecrates a lowly thing.
But see, we lag behind the eager day:
The greenwood calls us hence, Come, come away!
Join hand in hand, sweet friends, the dews are drying,
The birds are singing, and the bells replying,
Come to the woods, and hear the turtles moan,
For so we surely please, for Corydon.

[Exeunt omnes.