Not ill content to vary the smooth scene,

And watch the warring elements; but this

Would little suit the silken garments and

Smooth faces of our festive friends. Say, Myrrha,

Art thou of those who dread the roar of clouds?

Myr. In my own country we respect their voices

As auguries of Jove.[]

Sar.‍Jove!—aye, your Baal—

Ours also has a property in thunder,550

And ever and anon some falling bolt