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Her opera, "Cephale et Procris," was successfully given at the Academic Royale in 1694. Another composer of the same century was Mme. Louis, whose operetta, "Fleur d'Epine," met with a good reception. In the eighteenth century, Henriette de Beaumesnil was one of the foremost musical women in France.
They were blithe for the moment and lusty for the day's work, and with night again would come drink and song of the amorous gods; or if by chance the Singer should choose another note and tell of Procris or of Philomela, they could weep softly for others' woes and, so weeping, quite forget their own.
Against the grey bole of a beech-tree hung a board, on which were the freshly painted words: PRIVATE "That board is stuck up all over this life and the next. Well, WE won't give them the chance to warn us off, Gyp." Slipping her hand through his arm, she pressed close up to him. "No, Dad; you and I will go off with the wind and the sun, and the trees and the waters, like Procris in my picture."
In this region he discerns Phaedra and Procris and woeful Eriphyle, shewing on her the wounds of her merciless son, and Evadne and Pasiphaë; Laodamia goes in their company, and she who was once Caeneus and a man, now woman, and again returned by fate into her shape of old.
Moore, in his "Legendary Ballads," has one on Cephalus and Procris, beginning thus: "A hunter once in a grove reclined, To shun the noon's bright eye, And oft he wooed the wandering wind To cool his brow with its sigh While mute lay even the wild bee's hum, Nor breath could stir the aspen's hair, His song was still, 'Sweet Air, O come! While Echo answered, 'Come, sweet Air!"
'And Phaedra and Procris I saw, and fair Ariadne, the daughter of wizard Minos, whom Theseus on a time was bearing from Crete to the hill of sacred Athens, yet had he no joy of her; for Artemis slew her ere that in sea-girt Dia, by reason of the witness of Dionysus. 'And Maera and Clymene I saw, and hateful Eriphyle, who took fine gold for the price of her dear lord's life.
But the age was full of misfortune; it was necessary, perhaps, to pretend a happiness one did not feel. Certainly in the strangely fantastic work of Pier di Cosimo, the Rescue of Andromeda , for instance, there is nothing of the touching sincerity and beauty of his Death of Procris, now in the National Gallery, which remains his one splendid work.
It had white walls, furniture of old oak, and for pictures reproductions of her favourites. "The Death of Procris" hung in the dining-room. Winton never failed to scrutinize it when he came in to a meal that "deuced rum affair" appeared to have a fascination for him.
It is also reasonable to suppose that if prolific hybrids had at any time been produced, the breed, from its singular character, would have been propagated by the fortunate possessor, either from curiosity or utility. can be traced to a very remote period of history. Some of the old authors speak of it as the dog which in the times of ancient mythology Diana presented to Procris.
This plant is occasionally hermaphrodite in Sikkim, the flowers forming a large drooping panicle and ripening small grains; it is, however, a rare occurrence, and the specimens are highly valued by the people. The tops of two are eaten, as are several species of Procris.
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