“'Silvia, this night I will enfranchise thee.'
'Tis so; and here's the ladder for the purpose. Why, Phaeton,—for thou art Merops' son,— Wilt thou aspire to guide the heavenly car And with thy daring folly burn the world? Wilt thou reach stars, because they shine on thee?
Go, base intruder! overweening slave!
Bestow thy fawning smiles on equal mates, And think my patience, more than thy desert, Is privilege for thy departure hence: Thank me for this more than for all the favours”