"Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms,
The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans,
Liege of all loiterers and malcontents"—
the little archer has wings, but they will not exalt him to the clouded canopy; he is obliged to mount a ladder.
On the ground, beneath him, is Aurora, designated by "the bright morning star, day's harbinger," glittering in her hair. Her rosy fingers are employed in the service of the charming though intoxicated siren, who offers the hero (that is perhaps intended to personate Ganymede) a glass of spirits. This the cupbearer of Jupiter very gladly accepts, in the hope of relief from an aching tooth, the agony of which is intimated by his countenance, and the handkerchief, which was once lost by the chaste Desdemona, being held up to his face:
"There was never yet philosopher
That could endure the toothache patiently;
However they have writ the style of gods,
And made a pish at chance and sufferance."
In one corner a lady, who personates Jove's eagle, is feeding a child.