 | The Cestus |  |
Scene. I.
A rural SceneEnter Cupid
Cupid.
Above the star-set pavement of the Sky,
Near Iove's exalted Throne, I hold my Seat;
Yet oft, on errand meet, with downward wing,
I lapse from heav'n to earth:—now goddess-sent,
The mandate I obey of that soft Pow'r
Felt thro' all Nature from the rolling Spheres
Of highest heav'n, thro' Air, & Earth, & Sea.—
At her benign approach the Winds subside;
Storms sink to rest—& Thunders cease to roll.
For whose soft feet her flow'ry incense spreads
The teeming Earth, while Neptune's Empire smiles,
And Heav'n itself grows brighter by her flame.
Near Iove's exalted Throne, I hold my Seat;
Yet oft, on errand meet, with downward wing,
I lapse from heav'n to earth:—now goddess-sent,
The mandate I obey of that soft Pow'r
Felt thro' all Nature from the rolling Spheres
Of highest heav'n, thro' Air, & Earth, & Sea.—
At her benign approach the Winds subside;
Storms sink to rest—& Thunders cease to roll.
For whose soft feet her flow'ry incense spreads
2
And Heav'n itself grows brighter by her flame.
She, when the vernal Day is first awoke
By whisper of Favonius, hears the Choir
Of Woods & Groves, & ev'ry secret Bow'r
And shady haunt, her high praise chorusing.
She smiles, & as she smiles all Nature lives.
Her tranquil pow'r can soften ev'ry heart,
And smooth the stern brow of the angry Mars;
Who oft reclining on her placid breast,
His heart subdu'd, lets fall his Spear & Shield,
Drinking delicious draughts from love-moist eyes
That opiate all his senses with delight.—
By whisper of Favonius, hears the Choir
Of Woods & Groves, & ev'ry secret Bow'r
And shady haunt, her high praise chorusing.
She smiles, & as she smiles all Nature lives.
Her tranquil pow'r can soften ev'ry heart,
And smooth the stern brow of the angry Mars;
Who oft reclining on her placid breast,
His heart subdu'd, lets fall his Spear & Shield,
Drinking delicious draughts from love-moist eyes
That opiate all his senses with delight.—
There chain him Goddess! with thy potent spell:
Pour thy soft blandishments thro' all his soul;
And give the World repose.
Pour thy soft blandishments thro' all his soul;
And give the World repose.
Exit.
3
F. Queen.
By Dian's sacr'd signal hither brought,
I come to seek the quivver'd God of Love;
Who brings the CESTUS Cytherea lends
To her chaste sister Goddess (fit to try
Each Matron's firm faith, & each virgin's truth)
To clear a fav'rite Maid from slander foul:
Who ne'er in Thought's swift transit, or by breath
That ever sever'd yet her vestal lips,
Much less by deed substantial, e'er offended
Against the chaste Laws Dian hath decreed
For all her Vot'ries.
Re-enter Cupid.
Cupid.
Queen! behold Me here!
The smiling Goddess Cytherea sends
Me, her lov'd Boy, with Iove's assenting nod,
With this her CESTUS down to these Abodes,
To try its potent charm.—Thou Fairy Queen!
4
And thus my Mother:—Tidings long have run
Thro' this Caelestial, that on Earth where once
A throned Virgin held the sov'reign sway:
Where Liberty, & all her Sister Arts
Shine like the bright lamps round the throne of Iove;
A royal Pair of far-fam'd excellence,
In love connubial peerless, & unmatch'd,
Blest in their Subjects love as in their own,
Dwell highly honor'd—Should that royal Dame
(If a meet rival with her could be found.)
Deign the great contest; fitly would she find
This heav'nly Cincture ring her sacred Waist.
Queen.
Long hath the trump of Fame these tidings sent
Thro' earthly Regions: And each gale hath borne,
On rosy-wing to heav'n the tidings fair.
And what to-day in Fairy Land is done,
In mimic Scene shall one time gain the ear,
And please the eye of that same gracious Pair.
Thro' earthly Regions: And each gale hath borne,
On rosy-wing to heav'n the tidings fair.
And what to-day in Fairy Land is done,
In mimic Scene shall one time gain the ear,
5
But to my task.—Me fitly it beseems,
(To hide Me from each nice discerning eye,
The better to perform my destin'd work)
To shroud me in the sacred cloud which once
Veil'd thy soft Mother the fair Cyprian Queen
In heav'nly umbrage, when in secret flight,
She led the Trojan to the stately Walls
Which fated Dido built—imperial Tyre.—
So it behoves.—And purple-pinion'd God!
Put off thy sky-wove robes of heav'nly sheen,
And rosy-Coronet: And deck thyself
All in habiliments of humble Swain.
And for thy fatal Bow, & Quiver, take
A past'ral Crook, & Script, & Oaten-Pipe,
That for some rural Minstrel thou may'st pass,
And gain admittance, by thy carols sweet,
To that high Dome where thou must act thy part.
(To hide Me from each nice discerning eye,
The better to perform my destin'd work)
To shroud me in the sacred cloud which once
Veil'd thy soft Mother the fair Cyprian Queen
In heav'nly umbrage, when in secret flight,
She led the Trojan to the stately Walls
Which fated Dido built—imperial Tyre.—
So it behoves.—And purple-pinion'd God!
Put off thy sky-wove robes of heav'nly sheen,
And rosy-Coronet: And deck thyself
All in habiliments of humble Swain.
And for thy fatal Bow, & Quiver, take
A past'ral Crook, & Script, & Oaten-Pipe,
That for some rural Minstrel thou may'st pass,
And gain admittance, by thy carols sweet,
To that high Dome where thou must act thy part.
6
Queen! I obey.—I'll moult these heav'nly plumes,
And vest me in the dress of Cottage-Swain.
Exeunt.
| The Cestus | |