How lucky that I left the child at home! Gorgo. Courage, Praxinoe; they have passed us now; They've gone into the courtyard. Prax. I never could abide in all my life A horse and a cold snake. Good! I breathe again. Gorgo. [Addressing an old woman.] From court, mother? Old Woman. Yes, child. Gorgo. Bless us! How she bustles off! Why, the old woman's quite oracular. But women must know everything; ev'n what Juno How the gate's crowded. Prax. Frightfully, indeed. Give me your hand, dear Gorgo; and do you Hold fast of Eutychis's, Eunoe. Don't let her go; don't stir an inch; and so They drive like pigs! Man. What heaps! Courage, old girl! all's safe. Prax. Blessings upon you, sir, now and forever, Gorgo. Praxinoe, do look there! What lovely tapestry! How fine and showy! One would think the gods did it. Prax. Holy Minerva! how those artists work! How they do paint their pictures to the life! The figures stand so like, and move so like! They're quite alive! not worked!-Well, certainly, Man's a wise creature. See now only lookSee lying on the silver couch, all budding, With the young down about his face! Adonis! Charming Adonis-charming ev'n in Acheron! Second Man. Do hold your tongues there; chatter, chatter, chatter. The turtles stun one with their yawning gabble. Gorgo. Hey-day! Whence comes the man? you, If we do chatter? Speak where you've a right. It's lawful for the Dorians to speak Doric! What is't to Prax. We've but one master, by the Honey-sweet! And don't fear you, nor all your empty blows. 1 Gorgo. Hush, hush, Praxinoe!-there's the Grecian girl, A most amazing creature, going to sing About Adonis; she that sings so well The song of Sperchis: she'll sing something fine, I warrant. See how sweetly she prepares! The Song O Lady, who dost take delight In Golgos and the Erycian height, And in the Idalian dell, Venus, ever amiable; 1 An epithet applied by the Sicilians to Proserpine. [Translator's note.] Lo, the long-expected Hours, Thou, they say, from earth hast given. Dropping to her woman's heart He has all the fruits that now Syrian scents in alabaster, And whate'er a curious taster Like young nightingales, that trying To be filler of Jove's cup; And the tapestry's purple heap, Softer than the feel of sleep; But another couch there is Year by year thus to and fro; Only privileged demigod; There was no such open road Nor for Hector, noblest once Nor Patroclus, nor the boy Nor Pelopians, and their boldest; Bless us then, Adonis dear, Dearly hast thou come again, And dearly shalt be welcomed then. Gorgo. Well, if that's not a clever creature, trust me! Lord! what a quantity of things she knows! And what a charming voice!-'Tis time to go, though, And you'd best come across him when he wants it! Theocritus 29 TH MY LAST DUCHESS FERRARA HAT'S my last Duchess painted on the wall, That piece a wonder, now: Frà Pandolf's hands Half-flush that dies along her throat": such stuff |