“The throat of war be stopt within her land,
And _turtle-footed_ peace dance fairie rings
About her court.”
“Turtle-footed” is a pretty word, a very pretty word: pray, what does it
mean? Doves, I presume, are not dancers; and the other sort of turtle,
land or sea, green-fat or hawksbill, would, I should suppose, succeed
better in slow minuets than in the brisk rondillo. In one sense, to be
sure, pigeons and ring-doves could not dance but with _éclat_—_a claw_!
“Poetaster.”