Thus said the player god, and adding art Of voice and gesture, so perform’d his part, She thought (so like her love the shade appears) That Ceyx spoke the words, and Ceyx shed the tears. She groan’d, her inward soul with grief oppress’d, She sigh’d, she wept, and, sleeping, beat her breast; Then stretch’d her arms to embrace his body bare; Her clasping arms enclose but empty air; At this, not yet awake, she cried, “Oh stay! One is our fate, and common is our way!”

So dreadful was the dream, so loud she spoke, That, starting sudden up, the slumber broke, Then cast her eyes around, in hope to view Her vanish’d lord, and find the vision true; For now the maids, who waited her commands, Ran in with lighted tapers in their hands. Tired with the search, not finding what she seeks, With cruel blows she pounds her blubber’d cheeks; Then from her beaten breast the linen tear, And cut the golden caul that bound her hair. Her nurse demands the cause: with louder cries She prosecutes her griefs, and thus replies: