awdy
trappings, and all those little fineries of Art, which are us'd to set
off and varnish a discourse: But let an ingenuous Simplicity. and
unaffected pleasing Neatness appear in every part; which yet will be
flat, if 'tis drawn out to any length, if not close, short, and
broken, as that in _Virgil_,

He that loves _Bavius_ Verses, hates not Thine:

And in the same _Eclogue_,

--It is not safe to drive too nigh,
The Bank may fail, the Ram is hardly dry:

And in _Corydon_,

To learn this Art what won't _Amyntas_ do?

And in _Theocritus_ much of the same nature may be seen; as in his
other _Pastoral Idylliums_, so chiefly in his fifth. Thus _Battus_ in
the fourth _Idyllium_, complaining for the loss of _Amaryllis_,

{60} Dear Nymph, dear as my Goats, you dy'd.

And how soft and tender is that in the third _Idyllium_,

And she may look on me, she may be won,
She may be kind, she is not perfect Stone,

And in this _concise_, close way of Expression lies the chiefest
Grace of _Pastorals_: for in my opinion there's nothing in the whole
Composition that can delight more than those frequent stops, and
breakings off. Yet lest in these too it become dull and sluggish, it
must be quickned by frequent lively touches of Concernment: such as
that of the Goatherd in the third Idyllium,

--I see that I must die:

Or _Daphnis's_ despair, which _Thyrsis_ sings in the first
_Idyllium_,

Ye Wolves, and Pards, and Mountain Bores adieu,
The Herdsmen now must walk no more with You.

How tender are the lines, and yet what passion they contain! And most
of _Virgil's_ are of this nature, but there are likewise in him some
touches of despairing Love, such as is this of _Alphesiboeus_,

Nor have I any mind to be reliev'd:

{61} Or that of _Damon_,

I'le dy, yet tell my Love e'en whilst I dy:

Or that of _Corydon_,

He lov'd, but could not hope for Love again.

For tho _Pastoral_ doth not admit any violent passions, such as
proceed from the greatest extremity, and usually accompany despair;
yet because Despairing Love is not attended with those frightful and
horrible consequences, but looks more like _grief to be pittied_, and
a _pleasing madness_, than _rage_ and _fury_, _Eclogue_ is so far from
refusing, that it rather loves, and passionately requires them.
Therefore an unfortunate _Shepherd_ may be brought in, complaining of
his successless Love to the _Moon, Stars_, or _Rocks_, or to the