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His beard was in the flowery bad

Touclied, like his bair, with gold, And down beneath his shoulder blades

His tresses rar and rolled.

An earnest cheer was in his look ;

And every human part, His neck, his shoulders, hands, and breatt,

Matched with the proudest art.

Such was his look and shape, to where

The nether form began;
Nor where he put the courser on;

Dishonoured hè the man.

Ev'n Castor might have ridden him,

But for his double make;
So built with muscle was his ekest,

So rideable his back.

And blacker was his noble live

Than is the pitchy night; Only a snowy tail and feet

Finished his look with light.

Many fair creatures of his kind

Besought his love; but he Was borne away by only one,

The sole Hylonorne.

No gentle woman-hearted thing

Of all the half-human race, Carried about the shady woods

A more becoming grace.

With pretty natural blandishments,

And loving, and at last Owning her love with rosy talk,

She bound the conqueror fast.

Her limbs, as much as in her lay.

She kept adorned with care, And took especial pride to sleek

Her lightsome locks of hair.

With rosemary she wreathed them now,

With violets and the rose;
And now betwixt their glossy black,

Sparkled the lily sgows.

No vest but of the choicest skin,

And suiting her, she wore, About her shoulder crossing round

Beside her and before.

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Orders received by the Newsmen, by the Booksellers, and by the Publisher, Joseph Appleyard.

Printed by Joseph Appleyard, No, 19, Catherine-street, Strand. Prise ed.

THE INDICATOR.

There he arriving round about doth flie,
And takes survey with busie curious eye:
Now this, now that, he tasteth tenderly.

SPENSER.

No. XXVII.-WEDNESDAY, APRIL 12th, 1820.

THE ADVENTURES OF CEPHALUS AND PROCRIS.

CEPHALUS, the son of Deioneus, king of Thessaly, married Procris,' daughter of Pandion, king of Athens. They bound each other by a vow never to love any one else. Cephalus, who was fond of hunting, suffered the wood-nymphs to be charming to no purpose ; and Procris, waiting his return every day from the chace, scarcely had a civil answer for the most agreeable of the Wood-Gods.

Their security in each others exclusive attachment was increased, if possible, by a passion which was conceived for Cephalus by Aurora, the Goddess of Morning. To think that the beaming eyes and

rosy blushes of so charming a deity were upon him every morning to no purpose, was a high exaltation to the proud confidence which each reposed in the other. Procris, whom the very particular vow which they had entered into had begun to render a little too-apt to be jealous, concluded that if he could deny a goddess, she need have no fear of the nymphs. All that disturbed her was lest Aurora should grow angry. Cephalus, on the other hand, whatever airs he might occasionally give himself on the strength of his fidelity, held it to be utterly impossible, that his wife should for a moment forget the : rejecter of a divinity.

Aurora however was not angry. She was too much in love. Cephalus began to feel a softer pride when he found that she still loved him secretly, and that she did all in her power to gratify him. The dawns in Thessaly had never been known to be so fine. Rosy little clouds, floating in yellow light, were sure to usher in the day, whatever it might turn out at noon. He had but to wish for more air, and it came streaming upon his face. Did he want light in a gloomy depth of the forest? Beams thrilled through the twisted thickets, and made the hunters start to see their faces so plainly. Some said, that a divine countenance was to be seen at these times, passing on the other side of the trees, and looking through. It is certain, that when Cephalus had laiu down towards noon to rest himself in a solitary place, he would see, as he woke, a nymph suddenly departing from the spot, whose hair shook out a kind of sunshine. He knew that this was Aurora, and could not help being touched by so delicate an affection,

By degrees, Cephalus began to think that Procris might spare a little of so great a love; and as these wicked thoughts stole upon him, he found Aurora steal nearer. She came closer to him, as he pretended to sleep; and loitered more in going away. At length they conversed again ; and the argument, which was uppermost in both their minds, soon got more and more explicit. We are bound to believe that a goddess could reason more divinely on the subject; but it must not be concealed, that the argument which made the greatest impression on Cephalus, was one, which has since been much in fashion, though we cannot say a great deal for it. All defences of love should proceed upon the kindest grounds, or on none. The moment it refers to any thing like retaliation, or even to a justice which hazards such feelings, it is trenching on the monstrous territory of hate. Be this however as it may, Aurora, one morning, did certainly condescend to finish a conversation with saying, that she would not look to have her love returned, unless Procris should first be found unfaithful.

The husband, in whose mind this suggestion seemed to awaken all his exclusive tenderness for his wife, readily accepted the alternative. But how was Procris to be tried ? Aurora soon found an expedient. She changed the appearance of Cephalus to that of a young Phænician merchant; filled his pockets with gold and jewels; hung the rarest gems from Ormụs and the Red Sea in his turban; and seating him in a Sidonian car, drawn by white fawns, with a peacock standing beside him on the edge, sent him to offer all these bribes to Procris for her • love. Cephalus turned a little pale at sight of the fawns; but his colour and even his gaiety returned in a minute; and tak ng a respect ful farewell of the Goddess, he shook the reins, and set off down the grassy valley that led to his home.

The fawns, with a yearning yet easy swiftness, wound along down the sides of the hill. Their snowy figures flashed in and out of the trees; the peacoek's tail trailed along the air ; the jewels sparkled in the stranger's turban. Procris, looking out of the window for her husband, wondered what illustrious unknown was coming. He is evidently coming towards her abode. It is the only one in the valley. He arrives, and making a respectful obeisance, alights and enters. He makes no request for admittance, but yet no fault is to be found with his easy gravity. He says indeed that he could not but come in, whether he would or no, for the fame of Procris's beauty and sweetness had reached him in Phænicja; and as his father's great riches allowed him to travel at his leisure, he had brought a few trifles, not as a return for the few hours' hospitality which he should presume upon ;-by po means ;-but solely as he had not wit or attraction enough of his own, to leave any other memorial of his visit and homage. All this was somewhat too elaborate for the people in those days; but Cephalus, in his confidence, had become a little over-ingenious; and when he had done speaking, and had presented his splendid credentials, Procris thought that the accomplished stranger undervalued himself. A little obstacle presented itself. On giving her the peacock, the handsome stranger stooped his face with an air of confident. but respectful pleasure, and was about to kiss her, “How is this ?” said

Procris. " We always do so in Phoenicia," said he, “when presents are received ;” and without more ado, he kissed her in a sort of formal and cabalistic manner, first on one cheek, then on the other, and lastly on the forehead. Procris submitted, purely because she did not know how to object to a Phoenician custom. But on his presenting a casket full of gold, she demurred. He seemed to take no notice of this, but stooped as before, and kissed her, not only on the cheeks 'and forehead, but on the lips. Procris blushed, and looked displeased. “We always do so in Phænicia ;" said he, in a tone, as if all offence must be done away by that explanation. Another casket succeeded, full of jewels, and much more precious than the last. Procris wopdered wkether any additional ceremony was to take place in return, and was about to decline the third present in some alarm, when the stranger, with as brief an indifference of voice as his gallantry could assume, observed, that all that was to be done for the third gift, was to have the kiss returned,-slightly, it was true; but still returned :it was always the way in Phænicia. And he had scarcely spoken the word wher he stooped as before, and kissed her. Proeris would sincerely have objected to returning the salute; but as she said afterwards, she really had not time to consider. Besides, she persuaded herself that she felt relieved at thinking the casket was to be the last present; and so,-giving a short glance at the window,--the kiss was returned. A very odd, and not comfortable expression passed over the face of the stranger, but very quickly. The only reason that Procris could conceive why he should look so, was, that the salute might have been too slight.“ He is very generous, I own,” thought she; “but these Phænicians are strange people.” The stranger had now a totally different air. It was that of an excessive gaiety, in which respect was nevertheless strongly mingled. “ Having honoured me so far with your acquaintance," said he," nothing remains but to close our Phænician ceremonies of introduction with this trifle from the Red Sea. So saying, he took a most magnificent ruby from the front of his turban, and hitched it on the collar of her rest. hook, “'said he, is of Phoenician chrystal." Procris's ears fairly tingled with the word Phænician. She was bewildered ; the ceremonies were indeed about to close; and this word somewhat relieved her; but she was going to demur in a more peremptory manner, when he said that all that was to be done on this final occasion was just to embrace him--slightly-in a sisterly way ;-" It is not always done,” said he:-“ the 'Tyre people, for instance, do not do it; but the Sido. nians do; and generally speaking, it is the closing custom in Phoenici-”-and the final syllable was lost in a new kiss, against which she found it out of her power to remonstrate. In giving her at the same time a brief but affectionate embrace, he contrived to bring her arms about himself. He then bowed in the most respectful and grateful manner imaginable, and handed her to a seat.

Procris, with whom the ice had been thus broken, and who already i thought herself half faithless to the strictness of her vow, scarcely knew whether to feel more angry at the warmth, or piqued at the ceremonious indifference, of the stranger, A sense however of gra

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