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Antiphanes. (Book vi. § 71, p. 404.)
A. You say you've pass'd much of your time in Cyprus.
B. All; for the war prevented my departure.
A. In what place chiefly, may I ask?
B. In Paphos;
Where I saw elegance in such perfection,
As almost mocks belief.
A. Of what kind, pray you?
B. Take this for one—The monarch, when he sups,
Is fann'd by living doves.
A. You make me curious
How this is to be done; all other questions
I will put by to be resolved in this.
B. There is a juice drawn from a Syrian tree,
To which your dove instinctively is wedded
With a most loving appetite; with this
The king anoints his temples, and the odour
No sooner captivates the silly birds,
Than straight they flutter round him, nay, would fly
A bolder pitch, so strong a love-charm draws them,
And perch, O horror! on his sacred crown,
If that such profanation were permitted
Of the by-standers, who, with reverend care,
Fright them away, till thus, retreating now,
And now advancing, they keep such a coil
With their broad vans, and beat the lazy air
Into so quick a stir, that in the conflict
His royal lungs are comfortably cool'd,
And thus he sups as Paphian monarchs should.—Cumberland.
Alexis. (Book vi. § 72, p. 405.)
I sigh'd for ease, and, weary of my lot,
Wish'd to exchange it: in this mood I stroll'd
Up to the citadel three several days;
And there I found a bevy of preceptors
For my new system, thirty in a group;
All with one voice prepared to tutor me—
Eat, drink, and revel in the joys of love!
For pleasure is the wise man's sovereign good.—Cumberland.
