Cinesias, the lyric poet, stood up from the midst of the spectators,
and spoke aloud: I wish thee with all my heart such a Goddess to thy
daughter, Timotheus. Such like, nay worse, are the conceits of the
superstitious about this Goddess Diana:—
Thou dost on the bed-clothes jump,
And there liest like a lump.
Thou dost tantalize the bride,
When love’s charms by thee are tied.
Thou look’st grim and full of dread,
When thou walk’st to find the dead.
Thou down chairs and tables rumbl’st,
When with Oberon thou tumbl’st.[105]
Nor have they any milder sentiments of Apollo, Juno, or Venus; for they
are equally scared with them all. Alas! what could poor Niobe ever say
that could be so reflecting upon the honor of Latona, as that which
superstition makes fools believe of her? Niobe, it seems, had given her
some hard words, for which she fairly shot her