PROLOGUE 
 
THE GARDEN OF EROS 
 
See, in a glade of green moss, watered by a spring, a merry 
company languidly playing.  Flutes, and harps, and panpipes are 
there ;  and on wonderful chased silver, figured with the loves of the 
gods, are cups of beaded wine, and fruits, and honey, and cates of 
divers sort.  It is night, but the moon is exceeding bright ;  and the 
stars shine in the self-luminous blue of the vault.  Around the 
glade are many trees ;  the ground is a mass of flowers, and gathe-
red roses cover the white limbs of many of the players.  One girl is 
standing, and a full nightingale song trills from her ivory throst. 
Upon a tall tree of massy foliage sits, hidden from the players, 
a vulture vast and vague in his black night of shadow.  His face is 
human, of the ovine type, as that of a low-class Jew.  He watches 
the scene throughout in silence, but with intense envy disguised 
as disgust. 
 
DORIS 
 
Praise the wine wittily ! 
Praise the wine well ! 
Footing it prettily 
Down through the dell.