her feet, and the twelve Masquers standing about them. After they had been a while viewed, PROMETHEUS descended, and NATURE after him, singing. Nat. How young and fresh am I to-night, And twelve my sons stand in their maker's sight? Is a brother, And Nature here no step-dame, but a mother. Cho. Come forth, come forth, prove all the numbers then, That make perfection up, and may absolve you men. Nat. But shew thy winding ways and arts, Of stealing fire from ladies' eyes and hearts. Those softer circles are the young man's heaven, Were a notion As worthy of youth's study, as devotion. Cho. Come forth, come forth, prove all the time will gain, For Nature bids the best, and never bade in vain. Here the first DANCE. After which this SONG. Pro. How many 'mongst these ladies here, Nat. Not one, I fear, And read it in their laughters: There's more, I guess, would wish to be my Pro. You think they would not be so old, Nat. I think that thought so told Pro. 'Tis yet with them but beauty's noon, 'Tis then since Niobe was chang'd, that they have Cho. Move, move again, in forms as heretofore. Then move, the ladies here are store. Pro. Nature is Motion's mother, as she's yours. Here they dance the main DANCE. Then they dance with the Ladies; Then their last Dance. After which, PROMETHEUS calls to them in this Pro. Cho. And can you from such beauty part? In pawn to come again, or else he durst not start. Nat. Cho. Or sure they are no sons of mine. The taste knows no such cates, nor yet the palate wine. They are not worth his light, go backward from the sun. |