The Inner Temple Masque, The - First Scene
Jamque adeo scopulos sirenum advecta subibat,
Difficiles quondam multorumque ossibus albos. Upon it were seated two sirens as they are described by Hyginus and Servius, with their upper parts like women to the navel and the rest like a hen. One of these at the first discovery of the scene (a sea being done in perspective on one side the cliff) began to sing this Song, being as lascivious proper to them and beginning as that of theirs in Hom. lib . ╬╝. ╬ƒ╬┤. ╬ö╬Á¤à¤ü ╬▒╬│ ╬╣¤ë╬¢ ¤Ç╬┐╬╗¤à╬▒╬╣╬¢ ╬ƒ╬┤¤à¤â╬Á¤à, ╬╝╬Á╬│╬▒ ╬║¤à╬┤╬┐¤é ╬æ╬º╬▒╬╣¤ë╬¢.
Steer hiher, steer, your winged pines,
All beaten mariners,
Here lie Love's undiscover'd mines,
A prey to passengers;
Perfumes far sweeter than the best
Which make the Phaenix' urn and nest.
Fear not your ships,
Nor any to oppose you save our lips,
But come on shore,
Where no joy dies till love hath gotten more. The last two lines were repeated as from a grove near by a full Chorus, and the siren about to sing again , Triton ( in all parts as Apollonius, lib . Argonautic. shows him ) was seen interrupting her thus :
T RITON .
Leave, leave, alluring siren, with thy song
To hasten what the Fates would fain prolong:
Your sweetest tunes but groans of mandrakes be;
He his own traitor is that heareth thee.
Tethys commands, nor is it fit that you
Should ever glory you did him subdue
By wiles whose policies were never spread
Till flaming Troy gave light to have them read.
Ulysses now furrows the liquid plain
Doubtful of seeing Ithaca again.
For in his way more stops are thrust by time,
Than in the path where virtue comes to climb:
She that with silver springs for ever fills
The shady groves, sweet meadows, and the hills,
From whose continual store such pools are fed
As in the land for seas are famoused.
'Tis she whose favour to this Grecian tends,
And to remove his ruin Triton sends.
S IREN .
But 'tis not Tethys, nor a greater power,
Cynthia, that rules the waves; scarce he (each hour)
That wields the thunderbolts, can things begun
By mighty Circe, daughter to the Sun,
Check or control; she that by charms can make
The scaled fish to leave the briny lake,
And on the seas walk as on land she were;
She that can pull the pale moon from her sphere,
And at mid-day the world's all-glorious eye
Muffle with clouds in long obscurity;
She that can cold December set on fire,
And from the grave bodies with life inspire;
She that can cleave the centre, and with ease
A prospect make to our Antipodes;
Whose mystic spells have fearful thunders made,
And forc'd brave rivers to run retrograde.
She without storms that sturdy oaks can tear
And turn their roots where late their curl'd tops were.
She that can with the winter solstice bring
All Flora's dainties, Circe, bids me sing;
And till some greater power her hand can stay,
Whoe'er commands, I none but her obey.
T RITON .
Then Nereus' daughter thus you'll have me tell.
S IREN .
You may.
T RITON .
Think on her wrath.
S IREN .
I shall. Triton! farewell.
S IREN .
Vain was thy message, vain her hest, for I
Must tune again my wanton melody.
Here she went on with her Song thus:
For swelling waves our panting breasts,
Where never storms arise,
Exchange; and be awhile our guests:
For stars gaze on our eyes.
The compass love shall hourly sing,
And as he goes about the ring,
We will not miss
To tell each point he nameth with a kiss.
C HORUS .
Then come on shore,
Where no joy dies till love hath gotten more. At the end of this song Circe was seen upon the rock, quaintly attired, her hair loose about her shoulders, an anadem of flowers on her head, with a wand in her hand; and then, making towards the sirens, called them thence with this speeck :
Sirens, enough; cease; Circe hath prevail'd;
The Greeks which on the dancing billows sail'd,
About whose ships a hundred dolphins clung
Rapt with the music of Ulysses' tongue,
Have with their guide by pow'rful Circe's hand
Cast their hook'd anchors on Æaea's strand.
Yond stands a hill crown'd with high waving trees,
Whose gallant tops each neighb'ring country sees,
Under whose shade an hundred silvans play,
With gaudy nymphs far fairer than the day;
Where everlasting spring with silver showers
Sweet roses doth increase to grace our bowers;
Where lavish Flora, prodigal in pride,
Spends what might well enrich all earth beside,
And to adorn this place she loves so dear,
Stays in some climates scarcely half the year.
When would she to the world indifferent be.
They should continual April have as we.
Midway the wood and from the levell'd lands
A spacious yet a curious arbour stands,
Wherein should Phaebus once to pry begin,
I would benight him ere he get his inn,
Or turn his steeds awry, so draw him on
To burn all lands but this like Phaeton.
Ulysses near his mates by my strong charms
Lies there till my return in sleep's soft arms:
Then, sirens, quickly wend we to the bower
To fit their welcome, and show Circe's power.
S IREN .
What all the elements do owe to thee
In their obedience is perform'd in me.
C IRCE .
Circe drinks not of Lethe: then away
To help the nymphs who now begin their lay.
Difficiles quondam multorumque ossibus albos. Upon it were seated two sirens as they are described by Hyginus and Servius, with their upper parts like women to the navel and the rest like a hen. One of these at the first discovery of the scene (a sea being done in perspective on one side the cliff) began to sing this Song, being as lascivious proper to them and beginning as that of theirs in Hom. lib . ╬╝. ╬ƒ╬┤. ╬ö╬Á¤à¤ü ╬▒╬│ ╬╣¤ë╬¢ ¤Ç╬┐╬╗¤à╬▒╬╣╬¢ ╬ƒ╬┤¤à¤â╬Á¤à, ╬╝╬Á╬│╬▒ ╬║¤à╬┤╬┐¤é ╬æ╬º╬▒╬╣¤ë╬¢.
Steer hiher, steer, your winged pines,
All beaten mariners,
Here lie Love's undiscover'd mines,
A prey to passengers;
Perfumes far sweeter than the best
Which make the Phaenix' urn and nest.
Fear not your ships,
Nor any to oppose you save our lips,
But come on shore,
Where no joy dies till love hath gotten more. The last two lines were repeated as from a grove near by a full Chorus, and the siren about to sing again , Triton ( in all parts as Apollonius, lib . Argonautic. shows him ) was seen interrupting her thus :
T RITON .
Leave, leave, alluring siren, with thy song
To hasten what the Fates would fain prolong:
Your sweetest tunes but groans of mandrakes be;
He his own traitor is that heareth thee.
Tethys commands, nor is it fit that you
Should ever glory you did him subdue
By wiles whose policies were never spread
Till flaming Troy gave light to have them read.
Ulysses now furrows the liquid plain
Doubtful of seeing Ithaca again.
For in his way more stops are thrust by time,
Than in the path where virtue comes to climb:
She that with silver springs for ever fills
The shady groves, sweet meadows, and the hills,
From whose continual store such pools are fed
As in the land for seas are famoused.
'Tis she whose favour to this Grecian tends,
And to remove his ruin Triton sends.
S IREN .
But 'tis not Tethys, nor a greater power,
Cynthia, that rules the waves; scarce he (each hour)
That wields the thunderbolts, can things begun
By mighty Circe, daughter to the Sun,
Check or control; she that by charms can make
The scaled fish to leave the briny lake,
And on the seas walk as on land she were;
She that can pull the pale moon from her sphere,
And at mid-day the world's all-glorious eye
Muffle with clouds in long obscurity;
She that can cold December set on fire,
And from the grave bodies with life inspire;
She that can cleave the centre, and with ease
A prospect make to our Antipodes;
Whose mystic spells have fearful thunders made,
And forc'd brave rivers to run retrograde.
She without storms that sturdy oaks can tear
And turn their roots where late their curl'd tops were.
She that can with the winter solstice bring
All Flora's dainties, Circe, bids me sing;
And till some greater power her hand can stay,
Whoe'er commands, I none but her obey.
T RITON .
Then Nereus' daughter thus you'll have me tell.
S IREN .
You may.
T RITON .
Think on her wrath.
S IREN .
I shall. Triton! farewell.
S IREN .
Vain was thy message, vain her hest, for I
Must tune again my wanton melody.
Here she went on with her Song thus:
For swelling waves our panting breasts,
Where never storms arise,
Exchange; and be awhile our guests:
For stars gaze on our eyes.
The compass love shall hourly sing,
And as he goes about the ring,
We will not miss
To tell each point he nameth with a kiss.
C HORUS .
Then come on shore,
Where no joy dies till love hath gotten more. At the end of this song Circe was seen upon the rock, quaintly attired, her hair loose about her shoulders, an anadem of flowers on her head, with a wand in her hand; and then, making towards the sirens, called them thence with this speeck :
Sirens, enough; cease; Circe hath prevail'd;
The Greeks which on the dancing billows sail'd,
About whose ships a hundred dolphins clung
Rapt with the music of Ulysses' tongue,
Have with their guide by pow'rful Circe's hand
Cast their hook'd anchors on Æaea's strand.
Yond stands a hill crown'd with high waving trees,
Whose gallant tops each neighb'ring country sees,
Under whose shade an hundred silvans play,
With gaudy nymphs far fairer than the day;
Where everlasting spring with silver showers
Sweet roses doth increase to grace our bowers;
Where lavish Flora, prodigal in pride,
Spends what might well enrich all earth beside,
And to adorn this place she loves so dear,
Stays in some climates scarcely half the year.
When would she to the world indifferent be.
They should continual April have as we.
Midway the wood and from the levell'd lands
A spacious yet a curious arbour stands,
Wherein should Phaebus once to pry begin,
I would benight him ere he get his inn,
Or turn his steeds awry, so draw him on
To burn all lands but this like Phaeton.
Ulysses near his mates by my strong charms
Lies there till my return in sleep's soft arms:
Then, sirens, quickly wend we to the bower
To fit their welcome, and show Circe's power.
S IREN .
What all the elements do owe to thee
In their obedience is perform'd in me.
C IRCE .
Circe drinks not of Lethe: then away
To help the nymphs who now begin their lay.
Translation:
Language:
Reviews
No reviews yet.