The things we do!

She maybe
some two-and-thirty years old; and she was born about two thousand years
ago. Her name is the Venus of Milo. O Victrix! O lucky Paris! (I don't
mean this present Lutetia, but Priam's son.) How could he give the apple
to any else but this enslaver--this joy of gods and men? at whose benign
presence the flowers spring up, and the smiling ocean sparkles, and the
soft skies beam with serene light! I wish we might sacrifice. I would
bring a spotless kid, snowy-coated, and a pair of doves and a jar of
honey--yea, honey from Morel's in Piccadilly, thyme-flavoured, narbonian,
and we would acknowledge the Sovereign Loveliness, and adjure the Divine
Aphrodite. Did you ever see my pretty young cousin, Miss Newcome, Sir
Brian's daughter? She has a great look of the huntress Diana. It is
sometimes too proud and too cold for me. The blare of those horns is too
shrill and the rapid pursuit through bush and bramble too daring. O thou
generous Venus! O thou beautiful bountiful calm! At thy soft feet let me
kneel--on cushions of Tyrian purple.


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