Learn from the waves that ever kiss the shore,
And the winds nestling on the heaving sea.’”
“Son of the Muses! Descend from thy flight among the deities, and be assured that to the commonplace god of Necessity this visit of our guests is due. Their light shallop being disabled, they made a very unexpected but necessary landing upon the dock within our enclosing walls.”
“The shades of Daphne be praised, Marcius; but what of the lad in attendance?”
“If we find no service for him within the palace, we may have to offer him to the gods as a Hebrew sacrifice, or, in other words, present him as a graceful tribute to the waters of the Cydnus.”
“Thou sayest well. The Styx is often a shady but poetic necessity. The gods give their favorites early release.”
“A happy turn to a shadowy sentiment, my gay Leander, and quite worthy of thy ever-presiding Muse.”
“But will not our guest feel neglected at this delay in her reception, Marcius?”
“Nay, my gallant; she must be made presentable. The slave woman, Chloe, informs me that she was terribly dishevelled from the storm, but that her beauty is marvellous. She is being warmed and refreshed.”
“Ah! my favorite Muse again comes to the front:—