CLAUDIUS. Outside Rome, Diana's temple On the Salarian way uplifteth Its majestic front: the fairest Of our Roman maids dwell in it: 'T is the custom, as thou knowest, That the loveliest of Rome's children Whom patrician blood ennobles, From their tender years go thither To be priestesses of the goddess, Living there till 't is permitted They should marry: 't is the centre Of all charms, the magic circle Drawn around a land of beauty-- Home of deities--Elysium!-- And as great Diana is Goddess of the groves, her children Have to her an altar raised In the loveliest cool green thicket. Thither, when the evening falleth, And the season is propitious, Various squadrons of fair nymphs Hasten: and it is permitted Gallant youths, unmarried also, As an escort to go with them. There this evening will I lead him. ESCARPIN. Well, I doubt that your prescription Is the best: for fair recluses, Whose sublime pursuits, restricted To celestial things, make even The most innocent thought seem wicked, Are by no means likely persons To divert a man afflicted With this melancholy madness: Better take him into the thickest Throng of Rome, there flesh and bone Goddesses he 'll find, and fitter.-- CLAUDIUS. Ah! you speak but as the vulgar: Is it not the bliss of blisses To adore some lovely being In the ideal, in the distance, Almost as a vision?-- ESCARPIN. Yes; 'T is delightful; I admit it, But there 's good and better: think Of the choice that once a simple Mother gave her son: she said: "Egg or rasher, which will I give thee?" And he said: "The rasher, mother, But with the egg upon it, prithee". "Both are best", so says the proverb. CLAUDIUS. Well, if tastes did n't sometimes differ, What a notable mistake Providence would have committed! To adore thee, sweetest Cynthia, [aside Is the height of all my wishes: As it well may be, for am I Worthy, worship even to give her? [Exeunt. SCENE THE SECOND A Wood near Rome. (Enter NISIDA and CHLORIS, the latter with a lyre). NISIDA. Have you brought the instrument? CHLORIS. Yes. NISIDA. Then give it me, for here In this tranquil forest sphere, Where the boughs and blossoms blent, Ruby blooms and emerald stems, Round about their radiance fling, Where the canopy of spring Breathes of flowers and gleams with gems, Here I wish that air to play, Which to words that Cynthia wrote I have set--a simple note. CHLORIS. And the song, senora, say, What 's the theme? NISIDA. A touching strain,-- How a nightingale in a grove Singing sweetly of his love, Sang its pleasure and its pain. Enter CYNTHIA (reading in a book).