Anicetus.

Grant me the means to be great Cæsar’s herald, I’ll make a wonder that shall fetch the nymphs From their blue depths in ravishment to see His ships upon the waters.

Ner. I shall be liberal, And give thee full instruction. (To Pop.) Think, my love, What could be pleasanter, now spring is come, Than to confide our vexed and careful spirits To nature’s flush; to leave our memories With the din and smoke of Rome, and force a pageant Upon the lazy mirror of the bay,— One to make Venus jealous, and confound The richness of the season. Thou dost not guess What I can do. Say, would’st thou miss the seeing Of my magnificence?

Enter Paris.

Pop. See, here is Paris.

Ner. He comes to make us merry. The gods defend us! He has seen a ghost.

Pop. He has something to deliver.

Ner. Patience! I know his mood: he will be tragic; And you shall see the severe and tearful muse Outstride her dignity, and fall along. (To Paris) Begin!