ENTER CYPRIAN, DRESSED AS A STUDENT; CLARIN AND MOSCON AS POOR SCHOLARS, WITH BOOKS.
CYPRIAN:
In the sweet solitude of this calm place,
This intricate wild wilderness of trees
And flowers and undergrowth of odorous plants,
Leave me; the books you brought out of the house
To me are ever best society. _5
And while with glorious festival and song,
Antioch now celebrates the consecration
Of a proud temple to great Jupiter,
And bears his image in loud jubilee
To its new shrine, I would consume what still _10
Lives of the dying day in studious thought,
Far from the throng and turmoil. You, my friends,
Go, and enjoy the festival; it will
Be worth your pains. You may return for me
When the sun seeks its grave among the billows _15
Which, among dim gray clouds on the horizon,
Dance like white plumes upon a hearse;— and here
I shall expect you.
NOTES: _14 So transcr.; Be worth the labour, and return for me 1824. _16, _17 So 1824; Hid among dim gray clouds on the horizon Which dance like plumes—transcr., Forman.
MOSCON:
I cannot bring my mind,
Great as my haste to see the festival
Certainly is, to leave you, Sir, without _20
Just saying some three or four thousand words.
How is it possible that on a day
Of such festivity, you can be content
To come forth to a solitary country
With three or four old books, and turn your back _25
On all this mirth?
NOTES: _21 thousand transcr.; hundred 1824. _23 be content transcr.; bring your mind 1824.
CLARIN:
My master’s in the right;
There is not anything more tiresome
Than a procession day, with troops, and priests,
And dances, and all that.
NOTE: _28 and priests transcr.; of men 1824.
MOSCON:
From first to last,
Clarin, you are a temporizing flatterer; _30
You praise not what you feel but what he does;—
Toadeater!
CLARIN:
You lie—under a mistake—
For this is the most civil sort of lie
That can be given to a man’s face. I now
Say what I think.
CYPRIAN:
Enough, you foolish fellows! _35
Puffed up with your own doting ignorance,
You always take the two sides of one question.
Now go; and as I said, return for me
When night falls, veiling in its shadows wide
This glorious fabric of the universe. _40