“Here is another classical device; the representation of Eurydice, as she fell lifeless at the moment Orpheus turned round to gaze on her,” said Mr. Seymour.
“Charming! charming! I perceive that it is a copy from the splendid print of Didot in the Paris edition of Virgil.”
“Turn it round, vicar.”
“See! see! she revives, she opens her eyes, and throws her arms around the neck of her frantic lover: truly, Mr. Seymour, this is a most interesting toy,” said Mr. Twaddleton.
Mr. Seymour here observed that he had written an epigram to accompany the subject they had just witnessed, and he trusted that he had given to it a classical turn.
“By all means read it; the subject admits of much classical decoration,” observed the vicar.
Louisa received the epigram from the hands of her father, and read as follows:--
“By turning round, ’tis said, that Orpheus lost his wife;
Let him turn round again, and she’ll return to life.”
It could not be expected that Mr. Twaddleton should have admired lines so burdened with puns; but he quietly observed, “I should have preferred a quotation from the fourth Georgic, so beautifully descriptive of the fable.”