But if thou wilt not with thy deity Shade and inmask the errors of my pen, Protect an orphan poet's infancy, I will disclose, that all the world shall ken How partial thou art in honours giving, Crowning the shade, the substance' praise depriving. W. K.[331] [331] W. K[insayder].--See _Introduction_, vol. i. _THE ARGUMENT OF THE POEM._ Pygmalion, whose chaste mind all the beauties in Cyprus could not ensnare, yet, at the length having carved in ivory an excellent proportion of a beauteous woman, was so deeply enamoured on his own workmanship that he would oftentimes lay the image in bed with him, and fondly use such petitions and dalliance as if it had been a breathing creature. But in the end, finding his fond dotage, and yet persevering in his ardent affection, made his devout prayers to Venus, that she would vouchsafe to inspire life into his love, and then join them both together in marriage. Whereupon Venus, graciously condescending to his earnest suit, the maid (by the power of her deity) was metamorphosed into a living woman. And after, Pygmalion (being in Cyprus) begat a son of her, which was called Paphus; whereupon that island Cyprus, in honour of Venus, was after, and is now, called by the inhabitants, Paphos.[332] [332] Paphos was the name of a town in Cyprus (celebrated for its temple of Aphrodite)--not of the island itself. _TO HIS MISTRESS._ My wanton muse lasciviously doth sing Of sportive love, of lovely dallying. O beauteous angel! deign thou to infuse A sprightly wit into my dullèd muse. I invocate none other saint but thee, To grace the first blooms of my poesy. Thy favours, like Promethean sacred fire, In dead and dull conceit can life inspire; Or, like that rare and rich elixir stone, Can turn to gold leaden invention. Be gracious then, and deign to show in me The mighty power of thy deity; And as thou read'st (fair) take compassion-- Force me not envy my Pygmalion: Then when thy kindness grants me such sweet bliss, I'll gladly write thy Metamorphosis. PYGMALION. Pygmalion, whose high love-hating mind Disdain'd to yield servile affection Or amorous suit to any woman-kind, Knowing their wants and men's perfection; Yet love at length forced him to know his fate, And love the shade whose substance he did hate. For having wrought in purest ivory So fair an image of a woman's feature,[333] That never yet proudest mortality Could show so rare and beauteous a creature 10 (Unless my mistress' all-excelling face, Which gives to beauty beauty's only grace)--