But when around she look’d, and naught could find,
She laughed again, but anger vex’d her mind:
“I thought as much; a miserable joke;
Worthy of Asar;” jeering thus she spoke.
“I must allow, the gods do far surpass
In fraud and mockery our giant race.”
And now the maid began to loose her zone,
And from her shoulders doff the woollen gown:
Bared to the middle by the diamond’s light
She stands; what glorious charms appear in sight!