The Winter's Tale Translation Act 3, Scene 1
Enter CLEOMENES and DION
The climate's delicate, the air most sweet,Fertile the isle, the temple much surpassingThe common praise it bears.
The weather's fantastic, the air is fresh, the island is lush, and the temple is even more beautiful than everyone says it is.
I shall report,For most it caught me, the celestial habits,Methinks I so should term them, and the reverenceOf the grave wearers. O, the sacrifice!How ceremonious, solemn and unearthlyIt was i' the offering!
I'll talk about the thing that impressed me the most: the super-spiritual lifestyle (that's how I'd describe it, anyway) and discipline of the priests.
But of all, the burstAnd the ear-deafening voice o' the oracle,Kin to Jove's thunder, so surprised my senseThat I was nothing.
The best part was the blast of the oracle's ear-defeaning voice; it was like thunder! I was scared senseless. I felt tiny and insignificant.
If the event o' the journeyProve 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 ApolloTurn all to the best! These proclamations,So 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 seal'd up, Shall the contents discover, something rare Even then will rush to knowledge. Go: fresh horses! And gracious be the issue!
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