Georg. 4.315Quis deus hanc, Mūsae, quis nōbīs extudit artem?What god, Muses, what god hammered out this art for us? Georg. 4.316Unde nova ingressūs hominum experientia cēpit?From where did this new practice of men take its start? Georg. 4.317Pāstor Aristaeus fugiēns Pēnēia Tempē,
āmissīs, ut fāma, apibus morbōque fameque,
trīstis ad extrēmī sacrum caput adstitit amnis
320multa querēns atque hāc adfātus vōce parentem:
"Māter, Cȳrēnē māter, quae gurgitis huius
īma tenēs, quid mē praeclārā stirpe deōrum,
sī modo, quem perhibēs, pater est Thymbraeus Apollo,
invīsum fātīs genuistī?The shepherd Aristaeus, fleeing Peneian Tempe after losing his bees, so the story goes, through disease and hunger, stood sadly at the sacred source of the river's head, with many complaints, and addressed his mother with these words: 'Mother, Cyrene my mother, who dwell in the depths of this flood, why did you bear me of the glorious line of the gods (if indeed, as you claim, Thymbraean Apollo is my father) to be hated by the fates? Georg. 4.324aut quō tibi nostrī
325pulsus amor?or where has your love for me been driven? Georg. 4.325quid mē caelum spērāre iubēbās?why did you bid me hope for heaven?
Georg. 4.326Ēn etiam hunc ipsum vītae mortālis honōrem,
quem mihi vix frūgum et pecudum custōdia sollers
omnia temptantī extuderat, tē mātre relinquō.Look, even this very glory of mortal life, which skilful care of crops and flocks had barely hammered out for me after trying everything, I am losing, though you are my mother. Georg. 4.329Quīn age et ipsā manū fēlīcēs ērue silvās,
330fer stabulīs inimīcum ignem atque interfice messēs,
ūre sata et validam in vītēs mōlīre bipennem,
tanta meae sī tē cēpērunt taedia laudis."Come then, and with your own hand tear up my fruitful orchards, bring hostile fire to my stalls and kill my harvests, burn my crops and swing the strong axe against my vines, if such loathing for my renown has seized you.'