1145Enter Cleomines and Dion.
The climate's delicate, the air most sweet,
Fertile the isle, the temple much surpassing
The common praise it bears.
I shall report,
1150For most it caught me, the celestial habits,
Methinks I so should term them, and the reverence
Of the grave wearers. O, the sacrifice,
How ceremonious, solemn, and unearthly
It was i'th'offering!
But of all, the burst
And the ear-deafening voice o'th'oracle,
Kin to Jove's thunder, so surprised my sense
That I was nothing.
If th' event o'th' journey
1160Prove as successful to the queen--O, be't so--
As it hath been to us, rare, pleasant, speedy,
The time is worth the use on't.
Great Apollo,
Turn all to th'best! These proclamations,
1165So forcing faults upon Hermione
I little like.
The violent carriage of it
Will clear or end the business when the oracle
Thus by Apollo's great divine sealed up
1170Shall the contents discover, something rare
Even then will rush to knowledge. Go. Fresh horses!
And gracious be the issue.