142
THE TRIUMPHS
The jocund crowd, who throng'd with me to gaze,
Extoll'd my unpremeditated lays,
And Sport, who still of this old revel brags,
[1]Styl'd her the first of maids, and me of wags.
Then a light devil, now, reduc'd to limp,
I am but fit to play the hag-born imp;
Still, not to cross the frolic of this ball,
Still as the tortoise Caliban I'll crawl,
And if with gout my burning ankles flinch,
I'll call it Prospero's tormenting pinch;
Still in this shape I'll shew them what I am;
And Pen, shall go as Sycorax my dam."
So spoke the knight; and spoke with so much weight,
The listening females saw his word was fate;
For ne'er did Jove with so resolv'd a brow
To smiling Love his joyous scheme avow,
Extoll'd my unpremeditated lays,
And Sport, who still of this old revel brags,
[1]Styl'd her the first of maids, and me of wags.
Then a light devil, now, reduc'd to limp,
I am but fit to play the hag-born imp;
Still, not to cross the frolic of this ball,
Still as the tortoise Caliban I'll crawl,
And if with gout my burning ankles flinch,
I'll call it Prospero's tormenting pinch;
Still in this shape I'll shew them what I am;
And Pen, shall go as Sycorax my dam."
So spoke the knight; and spoke with so much weight,
The listening females saw his word was fate;
For ne'er did Jove with so resolv'd a brow
To smiling Love his joyous scheme avow,
- ↑ Βεκν Διι, Νεςορε τ᾽ ατδςων.
See Nestor's speech in the 11th Iliad.
