Poems, Masque
A MASK PRESENTED At LUDLOW-CASTLE, 1634. &c.
The firſt Scene diſcovers a wilde Wood.
The attendant Spirit deſcends or enters.
BEfore the ſtarry threſhold of Joves Court
My manſion is, where thoſe immortal ſhape
Of bright atreal Spirits live inſphear'd
In Regions milde of calm and ſerene Air,
Above the ſmoak and ſtirr of this dim ſpot,
Which men call Earth, and with low-thoughted care
Confin'd, and peſter'd in this pin-fold here,
Strive to keep up a frail, and Feaveriſh being
Unmindfull of the crown that Vertue gives
After this mortal change, to her true Servants
Amongſt the enthron'd gods on Sainted ſeats.
Yet ſom there be that by due ſteps aſpire
To lay their juſt hands on that Golden Key
That ope's the Palace of Eternity:
To ſuch my errand is, and but for ſuch,
I would not ſoil theſe pure Ambroſial weeds,
With the rank vapours of this Sin-worn mould.
But to my task. Neptune beſides the ſway
Of every ſalt Flood, and each ebbing ſtream,
Took in by lot 'twixt high, and neather Jove,
Imperial rule of all the Sea-girt Iles
That like to rich, and various gemms inlay
The unadorned booſom of the Deep,
Which he to grace his tributary gods
By courſe commits to ſeveral government,
And gives them leave to wear their Saphire crowns,
And weild their little tridents, but this Ile
The greateſt, and the beſt of all the main
He quarters to his blu-hair'd deities,
And all this tract that fronts the falling Sun
A noble Peer of mickle truſt, and power
Has in his charge, with temper'd awe to guide
An old, and haughty Nation proud in Arms:
Where his fair off-ſpring nurs't in Princely lore,
Are coming to attend their Fathers ſtate,
And new-entruſted Scepter, but their way
Lies through the perplex't paths of this drear Wood,
The nodding horror of whoſe ſhady brows
Threats the forlorn and wandring Paſſinger.
And here their tender age might ſuffer peril,
But that by quick command from Soveran Jove
I was diſpatcht for their defence, and guard;
And liſten why, for I will tell you now
What never yet was heard in Tale or Song
From old, or modern Bard in Hall, or Bowr.
Bacchus that firſt from out the purple Grape,
Cruſh't the ſweet poyſon of miſ-uſed Wine
After the Tuſcan Mariners transform'd
Coaſting the Tyrrhene ſhore, as the winds liſted,
On Circes Iland fell (who knows not Circe
The daughter of the Sun? Whoſe charmed Cup
Whoever taſted, loſt his upright ſhape,
And downward fell into a groveling Swine)
This Nymph that gaz'd upon his cluſtring locks,
With Ivy berries wreath'd, and his blithe youth,
Had by him, ere he parted thence, a Son
Much like his Father, but his Mother more,
Whom therefore ſhe brought up and Comus nam'd,
Who ripe, and frolick of his full grown age,
Roaving the Celtick, and Iberian fields,
At laſt betakes him to this ominous Wood,
And in thick ſhelter of black ſhades imbowr'd,
Excells his Mother at her mighty Art,
Offring to every weary Traveller,
His orient Liquor in a Cryſtal Glaſs,
To quench the drouth of Phoebus, which as they taſte
(For moſt do taſte through fond intemperate thirſt)
Soon as the Potion works, their human count'nance,
Th'expreſs reſemblance of the gods, is chang'd
Into ſom brutiſh form of Woolf, or Bear,
Or Ounce, or Tiger, Hog, or bearded Goat,
All other parts remaining as they were,
And they, ſo perfect is their miſery,
Not once perceive their foul disfigurement,
But boaſt themſelves more comely then before
And all their friends, and native home forget
To roule with pleaſure in a ſenſual ſtie.
Therefore when any favour'd of high Jove,
Chances to paſs through this adventrous glade,
Swift as the Sparkle of a glancing Star,
I ſhoot from Heav'n to give him ſafe convoy,
As now I do: But firſt I muſt put off
Theſe my skie robes ſpun out of Iris Wooff,
And take the Weeds and likenes of a Swain,
That to the ſervice of this houſe belongs,
Who with his ſoft Pipe, and ſmooth dittied Song.
Well knows to ſtill the wilde winds when they roar,
And huſh the waving Woods, nor of leſs faith,
And in this office of his Mountain watch,
Likelieſt, and neareſt to the preſent ayd
Of this occaſion. But I hear the tread
Of hatefull ſteps, I muſt be viewles now.
Comus enters with a Charming Rod in one hand, his Glaſs in the other, with him a rout of Monſters, headed like ſundry ſorts of wilde Beaſts, but otherwiſe like Men and Women, their Apparel gliſtering, they come in making a riotous and unruly noiſe, with Torches in their hands.
Comus.
The Star that bids the Shepherd fold.
Now the top of Heav'n doth hold,
And the gilded Car of Day,
His glowing Axle doth allay
In the ſteep Atlantick ſtream,
And the ſlope Sun his upward beam
Shoots againſt the dusky Pole,
Pacing toward the other gole
Of his Chamber in the Eaſt.
Mean while welcom Joy, and Feaſt,
Midnight ſhout, and revelry,
Tipſie dance, and Jollity.
Braid your Locks with roſie Twine
Dropping odours, dropping Wine.
Rigor now is gon to bed,
And Advice with ſcrupulous head,
Strict Age, and ſowre Severity,
With their grave Saws in ſlumber lie.
We that are of purer fire
Imitate the Starry Quire,
Who in their nightly watchfull Sphears,
Lead in ſwift round the Months and Years.
The Sounds, and Seas with all their finny drove
Now to the Moon in wavering Morrice move,
And on the Tawny Sands and Shelves,
Trip the pert Fairies and the dapper Elves;
By dimpled Brook, and Fountain brim,
The Wood-Nymphs deckt with Daiſies trim,
Their merry wakes and paſtimes keep:
What hath night to do with ſleep?
Night hath better ſweets to prove,
Venus now wakes, and wak'ns Love.
Com let us our rights begin,
'Tis onelyonly day-light that makes Sin
Which theſe dun ſhades will ne're report,
Hail Goddeſs of Nocturnal ſport
Dark vail'd Cotytto, t'whom the ſecret flame
Of mid-night Torches burns; myſterious Dame
That ne're art call'd, but when the Dragon woom
Of Stygian darkneſs ſpets her thickeſt gloom,
And makes one blot of all the air,
Stay thy cloudy Ebon chair,
Wherin thou rid'ſt with Heceat', and befriend
Us thy vow'd Prieſts, till utmoſt end
Of all thy dues be done, and none left out,
Ere the blabbing Eaſtern ſcout,
The nice Morn on th' Indian ſteep
From her cabin'd loop-hole peep,
And to the tell-tale Sun diſcry
Our conceal'd Solemnity.
Com, knit hands, and beat the ground,
In a light fantaſtick round.
The Meaſure.
Break off, break off, I feel the different pace,
Of ſom chaſt footing near about this ground.
Run to your ſhrouds, within theſe Brakes and Trees,
Our number may affright: Some Virgin ſure
(For ſo I can diſtinguiſh by mine Art)
Benighted in theſe Woods. Now to my charms,
And to my wily trains, I ſhall e're long
Be well ſtock't with as fair a herd as graz'd
About my Mother Circe. Thus I hurl
My dazling Spells into the ſpungy ayr,
Of power to cheat the eye with blear illuſion,
And give it falſe preſentments, leſt the place
And my quaint habits breed aſtoniſhment,
And put the Damſel to ſuſpicious flight,
Which muſt not be, for that's againſt my courſe;
I under fair pretence of friendly ends,
And well plac't words of glozing courteſie
Baited with reaſons not unplauſible
Wind me into the eaſie-hearted man,
And hug him into ſnares. When once her eye
Hath met the vertue of this Magick duſt.
I ſhall appear ſome harmles Villager
And hearken, if I may, her buſines here.
But here ſhe comes, I fairly ſtep aſide
The Lady enters.
This way the noiſe was, if mine ear be true,
My beſt guide now, me thought it was the ſound
Of Riot, and ill manag'd Merriment,
Such as the jocond Flute, or gameſom Pipe
Stirs up among the looſe unletter'd Hinds,
When for their teeming Flocks, and granges full
In wanton dance they praiſe the bounteous Pan,
And thank the gods amiſs. I ſhould be loath
To meet the rudeneſs, and ſwill'd inſolence
Of ſuch late Waſſailers; yet O where els
Shall I inform my unacquainted feet
In the blind mazes of this tangl'd Wood?
My Brothers when they ſaw me wearied out
With this long way, reſolving here to lodge
Under the ſpreading favour of theſe Pines,
Stept as they ſe'd to the next Thicket ſide
To bring me Berries, or ſuch cooling fruit
As the kind hoſpitable Woods provide.
They left me then, when the gray-hooded Eev'n
Like a ſad Votariſt in Palmers weed
Roſe from the hindmoſt wheels of Phoebus wain.
But where they are, and why they came not back,
Is now the labour of my thoughts, 'tis likelieſt
They had ingag'd their wandring ſteps too far,
And envious darknes, e're they could return,
Had ſtole them from me, els O theeviſh Night
Why ſhouldſt thou, but for ſom fellonious end,
In thy dark Lantern thus cloſe up the Stars,
That nature hung in Heav'n, and fill'd their Lamps
With everlaſting oil, to give due light
To the miſled and lonely Traveller?
This is the place, as well as I may gueſs,
Whence eev'n now the tumult of loud Mirth
Was rife, and perfet in my liſt'ning ear,
Yet nought but ſingle darknes do I find.
What might this be? A thouſand fantaſies
Begin to throng into my memory
Of calling ſhapes, and beckning ſhadows dire,
And airy tongues, that ſyllable mens names
On Sands, and Shoars, and deſert Wilderneſſes.
Theſe thoughts may ſtartle well, but not aſtound
The vertuous mind, that ever walks attended
By a ſtrong ſiding champion Conſcience.—
O welcom pure-ey'd Faith, white-handed Hope,
Thou hovering Angel girt with golden wings,
And thou unblemiſh't form of Chaſtity,
I ſee ye viſibly, and now believe
That he, the Supreme good, t'whom all things ill
Are but as ſlaviſh officers of vengeance,
Would ſend a gliſtring Guardian if need were
To keep my life and honour unaſſail'd.
Was I deceiv'd, or did a ſable cloud
Turn forth her ſilver lining on the night?
I did not err, there does a ſable cloud
Turn forth her ſilver lining on the night,
And caſts a gleam over this tufted Grove.
I cannot hallow to my Brothers, but
Such noiſe as I can make to be heard fartheſt
Ile venter, for my new enliv'nd ſpirits
Prompt me; and they perhaps are not far off.
SONG.
Sweet Echo, ſweeteſt Nymph that liv'ſt unſeen
Within thy airy ſhell
By ſlow Meander's margent green,
And in the violet imbroider'd vale
Where the love-lorn Nightingale
Nightly to thee her ſad Song mourneth well.
Canſt thou not tell me of a gentle Pair
That likeſt thy Narciſſus are?
O if thou have
Hid them in ſom flowry Cave,
Tell me but where
Sweet Queen of Parly, Daughter of the Sphear.
So maiſt thou be tranſlated to the skies,
And give reſounding grace to all Heav'ns Harmonies.
Com.
Can any mortal mixture of Earths mould
Breath ſuch Divine inchanting raviſhment?
Sure ſomthing holy lodges in that breſt,
And with theſe raptures moves the vocal air
To teſtifie his hidd'n reſidence;
How ſweetly did they float upon the wings
Of silence, through the empty-vaulted night
At every fall ſmoothing the Raven doune
Of darknes till it ſmil'd: I have oft heard
My Mother Circe with the Sirens three,
Amid'ſt the flowry-kirtl'd Naiades
Culling their potent hearbs, and balefull drugs,
Who as they ſung, would take the priſon'd ſoul,
And lap it in Elyſium, Scylla wept,
And chid her barking waves into attention,
And fell Charybdis murmur'd ſoft applauſe:
Yet they in pleaſing ſlumber lull'd the ſenſe,
And in ſweet madnes rob'd it of it ſelf,
But ſuch a ſacred, and home-felt delight,
Such ſober certainty of waking bliſs
I never heard till now. Ile ſpeak to her
And ſhe ſhall be my Queen. Hail forren wonder
Whom certain theſe rough ſhades did never breed
Unleſs the Goddes that in rural ſhrine
Dwell'ſt here with Pan, or Silvan, by bleſt Song
Forbidding every bleak unkindly Fog
To touch the proſperous growth of this tall Wood.
La.
Nay gentle Shepherd ill is loſt that praiſe
That is addreſt to unattending Ears,
Not any boaſt of skill, but extreme ſhift
How to regain my ſever'd company
Compell'd me to awake the courteous Echo
To give me anſwer from her moſſie Couch.
Co.
What chance good Lady hath bereft you thus?
La.
Dim darknes, and this leavie Labyrinth.
Co.
Could that divide you from neer uſhering guides?
La.
They left me weary on a graſſie terf.
Co.
By falſhood, or diſcourteſie, or why?
La.
To ſeek i'th vally ſom cool friendly Spring.
Co.
And left your fair ſide all unguarded Lady?
La.
They were but twain, and purpos'd quick return.
Co.
Perhaps fore-ſtalling night prevented them.
La.
How eaſie my misfortune is to hit!
Co.
Imports their loſs, beſide the preſent need?
La.
No leſs then if I ſhould my brothers looſe.
Co.
Were they of manly prime, or youthful bloom?
La.
As ſmooth as Hebe's their unrazor'd lips.
Co.
Two ſuch I ſaw, what time the labour'd Oxe
In his looſe traces from the furrow came,
And the ſwink't hedger at his Supper ſate;
I ſaw them under a green mantling vine
That crawls along the ſide of yon ſmall hill,
Plucking ripe cluſters from the tender ſhoots,
Their port was more then human, as they ſtood;
I took it for a faêry viſion
Of ſom gay creatures of the element
That in the colours of the Rainbow live
And play▪ i'th plighted clouds. I was aw…ſtrook,
And as I paſt, I worſhipt; if thoſe you ſeek
It were a journey like the path to Heav'n,
To help you find them.
La.
Gentle villager
What readieſt way would bring me to that place?
Co.
Due weſt it riſes from this ſhrubby point.
La.
To find out that, good Shepherd, I ſuppoſe,
In ſuch a ſcant allowance of Star-light,
Would overtask the beſt Land-Pilots art,
Without the ſure gueſs of well practiz'd feet.
Co.
I know each lane, and every alley green
Dingle, or buſhy dell of this wilde Wood,
And every bosky bourn from ſide to ſide
My daily walks and ancient neighbourhood,
And if your ſtray attendance be yet lodg'd,
Or ſhroud within theſe limits, I ſhall know
Ere morrow wake, or the low rooſted lark
From her thatch't pallat rowſe, if otherwiſe
I can conduct you Lady to a low
But loyal cottage, where you may be ſafe
Till further queſt'.
La.
Shepherd I take thy word,
And truſt thy honeſt offer'd courteſie,
Which oft is ſooner found in lowly ſheds
With ſmoaky rafters, then in tapſtry Halls
And Courts of Princes, where it firſt was nam'd,
And yet is moſt pretended: In a place
Leſs warranted then this, or leſs ſecure
I cannot be, that I ſhould fear to change it,
Eie me bleſt Providence, and ſquare my triall
To my proportion'd ſtrength. Shepherd lead on.—
The two Brothers.
Eld. Bro.
Unmuffle ye faint Stars, and thou fair Moon
That wontſt to love the travellers benizon,
Stoop thy pale viſage through an amber cloud,
And diſinherit Chaos, that raigns here
In double night of darkneſs, and of ſhades;
Or if your influence be quite damm'd up
With black uſurping miſts, ſom gentle taper
Though a ruſh Candle from the wicker hole
Of ſom clay habitation viſit us
With thy long levell'd rule of ſtreaming light,
And thou ſhalt be our ſtar, of Aready,
Or Tyrian Cynoſure.
2. Bro.
Or if our eyes
Be barr'd that happines, might we but hear
The folded flocks pen'd in their watled cotes,
Or ſound of paſtoral reed with oa…en ſtops,
Or whiſtle from the Lodge, or Village Cock
Count the night watches to his feathery Dames,
'Twould be ſom ſolace yet ſom little chearing
In this cloſe dungeon of innumerous bowes.
But O that haples virgin our loſt ſiſter
Where may ſhe wander now, whether betake her
From the chill dew, amongſt rude burrs and thiſtles?
Perhaps ſom cold bank is her boulſter now
Or 'gainſt the rugged bark of ſom broad Elm
Leans her unpillow'd head fraught with ſad fears,
What if in wild amazement, and affright,
Or while we ſpeak within the direful graſp
Of Savage hunger, or of Savage heat?
Eld. Bro.
Peace Brother, be not over-exquiſite
To caſt the faſhion of uncertain evils;
For grant they be ſo, while they reſt unknown,
What need a man foreſtall his date of grief,
And run to meet what he would moſt avoid?
Or if they be but falſe alarms of Fear,
How bitter is ſuch ſelf-deluſion?
I do not think my ſiſter ſo to ſeek,
Or ſo unprincipl'd in vertues book,
And the ſweet peace that goodnes booſoms ever,
As that the ſingle want of light and noiſe
(Not being in danger, as I truſt ſhe is not)
Could ſtir the conſtant mood of her calm thoughts,
And put them into miſ-becoming plight.
Vertue could ſee to do what vertue would
By her own radiant light, though Sun and Moon
Were in the flat Sea ſunk. And Wiſdoms ſelf
Oft ſeeks to ſweet retired Solitude,
Where with her beſt nurſe Contemplation
She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings
That in the various busſle of reſort
Were all to ruffl'd, and ſomtimes impair'd.
He that has light within his own cleer breſt
May ſit i'th center, and enjoy bright day,
But he that hides a dark ſoul, and foul thoughts
Benighted walks under the mid-day Sun;
Himſelf is his own dungeon.
2. Bro.
Tis moſt true
That muſing meditation moſt affects
The penſive ſecrecy of deſert cell,
Far from the cheerfull haunt of men, and herds,
And ſits as ſafe as in a Senat houſe,
For who would rob a Hermit of his Weeds,
His few Books, or his Beads, of Maple Diſh,
Or do his gray hairs any violence?
But beauty like the fair Heſperian Tree
Laden with blooming gold, had need the guard
Of dragon watch with uninchanted eye,
To ſave her bloſſoms, and defend her fruit
From the raſh hand of bold Incontinence.
You may as well ſpred out the unſun'd heaps
Of Miſers treaſure by an out-laws den,
And tell me it is ſafe, as bid me hope
Danger will wink on Opportunity,
And let a ſingle helpleſs maiden paſs
Uninjur'd in this wilde ſurrounding waſt.
Of night, or lonelineſs it recks me not,
I fear the dred events that dog them both,
Leſt ſom ill greeting touch attempt the perſon
Of our unowned ſiſter.
Eld. Bro.
I do not, Brother,
Inferr, as if I thought my ſiſters ſtate
Secure without all doubt, or controverſie:
Yet where an equal poiſe of hope and fear
Does arbitrate th'event, my nature is
That I encline to hope, rather then fear,
And gladly baniſh ſquint ſuſpicion.
My ſiſter is not ſo defenceleſs left
As you imagine, ſhe has a hidden ſtrength
Which you remember not.
2. Bro.
What hidden ſtrength,
Unleſs the ſtrength of Heav'n, if you mean that?
Eld. Bro.
I mean that too, but yet a hidden ſtrength
Which if Heav'n gave it, may be term'd her own:
'Tis chaſtity, my brother, chaſtity:
She that has that, is clad in compleat ſteel,
And like a quiver'd Nymph with Arrows keen
May trace huge Forreſts, and unharbour'd Heaths,
Infamous Hills, and ſandy perilous wildes,
Where through the ſacred rayes of Chaſtity,
No ſavage fierce, Bandite, or Mountaneer
Will dare to ſoyl her Virgin purity,
Yea there, where very deſolation dwels
By grots, and caverns ſhag'd with horrid ſhades,
She may paſs on with unblench't majeſty,
Be it not don in pride, or in preſumption.
Som ſay no evil thing that walks by night
In fog, or fire, by lake, or mooriſh fen,
Blew meager Hag, or ſtubborn unlaid ghoſt,
That breaks his magick chains at curfeu time,
No Goblin, or ſwart Faêry of the mine,
Hath hurtfull power o're true Virginity.
Do ye believe me yet, or ſhall I call
Antiquity from the old Schools of Greece
To teſtifie the arms of Chaſtity?
Hence had the huntreſs Dian her dred bow
Fair ſilver-ſhafted Queen for ever chaſte,
Wherewith ſhe tam'd the brinded lioneſs
And ſpotted mountain pard, but ſet at nought
The frivolous bolt of Cupid, gods and men
Fear'd her ſtern frown, and ſhe was queen oth'Woods.
What was that ſnaky-headed Gorgon ſheild
That wiſe Minerva wore, unconquer'd Virgin,
Wherwith ſhe freez'd her foes to congeal'd ſtone?
But rigid looks of Chaſt auſterity,
And noble grace that daſh't brute violence
With ſudden adoration, and blank aw.
So dear to Heav'n is Saintly chaſtity,
That when a ſoul is found ſincerely ſo,
A thouſand liveried Angels lacky her,
Driving far off each thing of ſin and guilt,
And in cleer dream, and ſolemn viſion
Tell her of things that no groſs ear can hear,
Till oft convers with heav'nly habitants
Begin to caſt a beam on th'outward ſhape,
The unpolluted temple of the mind,
And turns it by degrees to the ſouls eſſence,
Till all be made immortal: but when luſt
By unchaſte looks, looſe geſtures, and foul talk,
But moſt by leud and laviſh act of ſin,
Lets in defilement to the inward parts,
The ſoul grows clotted by contagion,
Imbodies, and imbrutes, till ſhe quite looſe
The divine property of her firſt being.
Such are thoſe thick and gloomy ſhadows damp
Oft ſeen in Charnel vaults, and Sepulchers
Lingering, and ſitting by a new made grave,
As loath to leave the Body that it lov'd,
And link't it ſelf by carnal ſenſuality
To a degenerate and degraded ſtate.
2. Bro.
How charming is divine Philoſophy!
Not ha…ſh, and crabbed as dull fools ſuppoſe,
But muſical as is Apollo's lute,
And a perpetual feaſt of nectar'd ſweets,
Where no crude ſurfet raigns.
Eld. Bro.
Liſt, li…, I hear
Som far of hallow break the ſilent Air.
2. Bro.
Me thought ſo too; what ſhould it be?
Eld. Bro.
For certain
Either ſom one like us night-ſounder'd here,
Or els ſom neighbour Wood-man, or at worſt,
Som roaving Robber calling to his fellows.
2. Bro.
Heav'n keep my ſiſter, agen, agen, and neer,
Beſt draw, and ſtand upon our guard.
Eld. Bro.
Ile hallow,
If he be friendly he comes well, if not,
Defence is a good cauſe, and Heav'n be for us.
The attendant Spirit habited like a Shepherd.
That hallow I ſhould know, what are you? ſpeak;
Com not too neer, you fall on iron ſtakes elſe.
Spir.
What voice is that, my young Lord? ſpeak agen.
2. Bro.
O brother, 'tis my father Shepherd ſure.
Eld. Bro.
Thyrſis? Whoſe artful ſtrains have oft delaid
The hudling brook to hear his madrigal,
And ſweetn'd every muskroſe of the dale,
How cam'ſt thou here good Swain? hath any Ram
ſlipt from the fold, or young Kid loſt his dam,
Or ſtraggling Weather the pen't flock forſook?
How couldſt thou find this dark ſequeſter'd nook?
Spir.
O my lov'd Maſters heir, and his next joy,
I came not here on ſuch a trivial toy
As a ſtray'd Ewe, or to purſue the ſtealth
Of pilfering Woolf, not all the fleecy wealth
That doth enrich theſe Downs, is worth a thought
To this my errand, and the care it brought.
But O my Virgin Lady, where is ſhe?
How chance ſhe is not in your company?
Eld. Bro.
To tell thee ſadly Shepherd, without blame,
Or our neglect, we loſt her as we came.
Spir.
Ay me unhappy then my fears are true.
El. Bro.
What fears good Thyrſis? Prethee briefly ſhew.
Spir.
Ile tell ye, 'tis not vain or fabulous,
(Though ſo eſteem'd by ſhallow ignorance)
What the sage Poets taught by th'heav'nly Muſe,
Storied of old in high immortal vers
Of dire Chimera's and inchanted Iles,
And rifted Rocks whoſe entrance leads to Hell,
For ſuch there be, but unbelief is blind.
Within the navil of this hideous Wood,
Immur'd in cypreſs ſhades a Sorcerer dwels
Of Bacchus, and of Circe born, great Comus,
Deep skill'd in all his mothers witcheries,
And here to every thirſty wanderer,
By ſly enticement gives his baneful cup,
With many murmurs mixt, whoſe pleaſing poiſon
The viſage quite transforms of him that drinks,
And the inglorious likenes of a beaſt
Fixes inſtead, unmoulding reaſons mintage
Character'd in the face; this have I learn't
Tending my flocks hard by i'th hilly crofts,
That brow this bottom glade, whence night by night
He and his monſtrous rout are heard to howl
Like ſtabl'd wolves, or tigers at their prey,
Doing abhorred rites to Hecate
In their obſcured haunts of inmoſt bowres,
Yet have they many baits, and guileful ſpells
To inveigle and invite th'unwary ſenſe
Of them that paſs unweeting by the way.
This evening late by then the chewing flocks
Had ta'n their ſupper on the ſavoury Herb
Of Knot-graſs dew-beſprent, and were in fold,
I ſate me down to watch upon a bank
With Ivy canopied, and interwove
With flaunting Hony-ſuckle, and began
Wrapt in a pleaſing fit of melancholy
To meditate upon my rural minſtrelſie,
Till fancy had her fill, but ere a cloſe
The wonted roar was up amidſt the Woods,
And fill'd the Air with barbarous diſſonance
At which I ceas't, and liſten'd them a while,
Till an unuſual ſtop of ſudden ſilence
Gave reſpit to the drowſie frighted ſteeds
That draw the litter of cloſe curtain'd ſleep;
At laſt a ſoft and ſolemn breathing ſound
Roſe like a ſtream of rich diſtill'd perfumes,
And ſtole upon the Air, that even Silence
Was took e're ſhe was ware, and wiſht ſhe might
Deny her nature, and be never more
Still to be ſo diſplac't. I was all ear,
And took in ſtrains that might create a ſoul
Under the ribs of Death, but O ere long
Too well I did perceive it was the voice
Of my moſt honour'd Lady, your dear ſiſter.
Amaz'd I ſtood, harrow'd with grief and fear,
And O poor hapleſs Nightingale thought I,
How ſweet thou ſing'ſt, how near the deadly ſnare!
Then down the Lawns I ran with headlong haſt
Through paths, and turnings oft'n trod by day,
Till guided by mine ear I found the place
Where that damn'd wiſard hid in ſly diſguiſe
(For ſo by certain ſignes I knew) had met
Already, ere my beſt ſpeed could prevent,
The aidleſs innocent Lady his wiſh't prey,
Who gently ask't if he had ſeen ſuch two,
Suppoſing him ſom neighbour villager;
Longer I durſt not ſtay, but ſoon I gueſs't
Ye were the two ſhe mean't, with that I ſprung
Into ſwift flight, till I had found you here,
But further know I not.
2. Bro.
O night and ſhades,
How are ye joyn'd with Hell in tripple knot
Againſt th'unarmed weakneſs of one Virgin
Alone, and helpleſs! is this the confidence
You gave me Brother?
Eld. Bro.
Yes, and keep it ſtill,
Lean on it ſafely, not a period
Shall be unſaid for me: againſt the threats
Of malice or of ſorcery, or that power
Which erring men call Chance, this I hold firm,
Vertue may be aſſail'd, but never hurt,
Surpriz'd by unjuſt force, but not enthrall'd,
Yea even that which miſchief meant moſt harm,
Shall in the happy trial prove moſt glory.
But evil on it ſelf ſhall back recoyl,
And mix no more with goodneſs, when at laſt
Gather'd like ſcum, and ſetl'd to it ſelf
It ſhall be in eternal reſtleſs change
Self-fed, and ſelf-conſum'd, if this fail,
The pillar'd firmament is rott'nneſs,
And earths baſe built on ſtubble. But com let's on.
Againſt th'oppoſing will and arm of Heav'n
May never this juſt ſword be lifted up,
But for that damn'd Magician, let him be girt
With all the greiſly legions that troop
Under the ſooty flag of Acheron,
Harpyes and Hydra's, or all the monſtrous forms
'Twixt Africa and Inde, Ile find him out,
And force him to reſtore his purchaſe back,
Or drag him by the curls, to a foul, death,
Curs'd as his life.
Spir.
Alas good ventrous youth,
I love thy courage yet, and bold Empriſe,
But here thy ſword can do thee little ſtead,
Far other arms, and other weapons muſt
Be thoſe that quell the might of helliſh charms,
He with his bare wand can unthred thy joynts,
And crumble all thy ſinew.
Eld. Bro.
Why prethee Shepherd
How durſt thou then thy ſelf approach ſo neer
As to make this Relation?
Spir.
Care and utmoſt ſhifts
How to ſecure the Lady from ſurpriſal,
Brought to my mind a certain Shepherd Lad
Of ſmall regard to ſee to, yet well skill'd
In every vertuous plant and healing herb
That ſpreds her verdant leaf to th'morning ray,
He lov'd me well, and oft would beg me ſing,
Which when I did, he on the tender graſs
Would ſit, and hearken even to extaſie,
And in requital ope his leathern ſcrip,
And ſhew me ſimples of a thouſand names
Telling their ſtrange and vigorous faculties;
Amongſt the reſt a ſmall unſightly root,
But of divine effect, he cull'd me out;
The leaf was darkiſh, and had prickles on it,
But in another Countrey, as he ſaid,
Bore a bright golden flowre, but not in this ſoyl:
Unknown, and like eſteem'd, and the dull ſwain
Treads on it daily with his clouted ſhoon,
And yet more med'cinal is it then that Moly
That Hermes once to wiſe Ulyſſes gave;
He call'd it Haemony, and gave it me,
And bad me keep it as of ſov'ran uſe
'Gainſt all inchantments, mildew blaſt, or damp
Or gaſtly furies apparition;
I purs't it up, but little reck'ning made,
Till now that this extremity compell'd,
But now I find it true; for by this means
I knew the foul inchanter though diſguis'd,
Enter'd the very lime-twigs of his ſpells,
And yet came off: if you have this about you
(As I will give you when we go) you may
Boldly aſſault the necromancers hall;
Where if he be, with dauntleſs hardihood,
And brandiſh't blade ruſh on him, break his glaſs,
And ſhed the luſhious liquor on the ground,
But ſeaſe his wand, though he and his curſt crew
Fierce ſigne of battail make, and menace high,
Or like the Sons of Vulcan vomit ſmoak,
Yet will they ſoon retire, if he but ſhrink.
Eld. Bro.
Thyrſis lead on apace, Ile follow thee,
And ſom good angel bear a ſhield before us.
The Scene changes to a ſtately Palace, ſet out with all manner of deliciouſneſs: ſoft Muſick, Tables ſpred with all dainties. Comus appears with his rabble, and the Lady ſet in an inchanted Chair, to whom he offers his Glaſs, which ſhe puts by, and goes about to riſe.
Comus.
Nay Lady ſit; if I but wave this wand,
Your nerves are all chain'd up in Alablaſter,
And you a ſtatue, or as Daphne was
Root-bound, that fled Apollo,
La.
Fool do not boaſt,
Thou canſt not touch the freedom of my minde
With all thy charms, although this corporal rinde
Thou haſte immanacl'd, while Heav'n ſees good.
Co.
Why are you vext Lady? why do you frown?
Here dwell no frowns, nor anger, from theſe gates
Sorrow flies far: See here be all the pleaſures
That fancy can beget on youthfull thoughts,
When the freſh blood grows lively, and returns
Brisk as the April buds in Primroſe-ſeaſon.
And firſt behold this cordial Julep here
That flames, and dances in his cryſtal bounds
With ſpirits of balm, and fragrant Syrops mixt.
Not that Nepenthes which the wife of Thone,
In Egypt gave to Jove-born Helena
Is of ſuch power to ſtir up joy as this,
To life ſo friendly, or ſo cool to thirſt.
Why ſhould you be ſo cruel to your ſelf,
And to thoſe dainty limms which nature lent
For gentle uſage, and ſoft delicacy?
But you invert the cov'nants of her truſt,
And harſhly deal like an ill borrower
With that which you receiv'd on other terms,
Scorning the unexempt condition
By which all mortal frailty muſt ſubſiſt,
Refreſhment after toil, eaſe after pain,
That have been tir'd all day without repaſt,
And timely reſt have wanted, but fair Virgin
This will reſtore all ſoon.
La.
'Twill not falſe traitor,
'Twill not reſtore the truth and honeſty
That thou haſt baniſh't from thy tongue with lies,
Was this the cottage, and the ſafe abode
Thou told'ſt me of? What grim aſpects are theſe,
Theſe oughly-headed Monſters? Mercy guard me!
Hence with thy brew'd inchantments, foul deceiver,
Haſt thou betrai'd my credulous innocence
With viſor'd falſhood, and baſe forgery,
And would'ſt thou ſeek again to trap me here
With lickeriſh baits fit to enſnare a brute?
Were it a draft for Juno when ſhe banquets,
I would not taſte thy treaſonous offer; none
But ſuch as are good men can give good things,
And that which is not good, is not delicious
To a well-govern'd and wiſe appetite.
Co.
O fooliſhnes of men! that lend their ears
To thoſe budge Doctors of the Stoick Furr,
And fetch their precepts from the Cynick Tub,
Praiſing the lean and ſallow Abſtinence.
Wherefore did Nature powre her bounties forth,
With ſuch a full and unwithdrawing hand,
Covering the earth with odours, fruits, and flocks,
Thronging the Seas with ſpawn innumerable,
But all to pleaſe, and ſate the curious taſte?
And ſet to work millions of ſpinning Worms,
That in their green ſhops weave the ſmooth-hair'd ſilk
To deck her Sons, and that no corner might
Be vacant of her plenty, in her own loyns
She hutch't th'all-worſhipt ore, and precious gems
To ſtore her children with; if all the world
Should in a pet of temperance feed on Pulſe,
Drink the clear ſtream, and nothing wear but Freize,
Th'all-giver would be unthank't, would be unprais'd,
Not half his riches known, and yet deſpis'd,
And we ſhould ſerve him as a grudging maſter,
As a penurious niggard of his wealth,
And live like Natures baſtards, not her ſons,
Who would be quite ſurcharg'd with her own weight,
And ſtrangl'd with her waſte fertility;
Th'earth cumber'd, and the wing'd air dark't with plumes,
The herds would over-multitude their Lords,
The Sea o'refraught would ſwel, & th'unſought diamonds
Would ſo emblaze the forhead of the Deep,
And ſo beſtudd with Stars, that they below
Would grow inur'd to light, and com at laſt
To gaze upon the Sun with ſhameles brows.
Liſt Lady be not coy, and be not coſen'd
With that ſame vaunted name Virginity,
Beauty is natures coyn, muſt not be hoorded,
But muſt be currant, and the good thereof
Conſiſts in mutual and partak'n bliſs,
Unſavoury in th'injoyment of it ſelf
If you let ſlip time, like a neglected roſe
It withers on the ſtalk with languiſh't head.
Beauty is natures brag, and muſt be ſhown
In courts, at feaſts, and high ſolemnities
Where moſt may wonder at the workm…
It is for homely features to keep home,
They had their name thence; courſe complexions
And cheeks of ſorry grain will ſerve to ply
The ſampler, and to teize the huſwifes wooll.
What need a vermeil-tinctur'd lip for that
Love-darting eyes, or treſſes like the the Morn?
There was another meaning in theſe gifts,
Think what, and be adviz'd, you are but young yet.
La.
I had not thought to have unlockt my lips
In this unhallow'd air, but that this Jugler
Would think to charm my judgement, as mine eyes
Obtruding falſe rules pranckt in reaſons garb.
I hate when vice can bolt her arguments,
And vertue has no tongue to check her pride:
Impoſtor do not charge moſt innocent nature,
As if ſhe would her children ſhould be riotous
With her abundance ſhe good cateres
Means her proviſion only to the good
That live according to her ſober laws,
And holy dictate of ſpare Temperance:
If every juſt man that now pines with want
Had but a moderate and beſeeming ſhare
Of that which lewdly-pamper'd Luxury
Now heaps upon ſom few with vaſt exceſs,
Natures full bleſſings would be well diſpenc't
In unſuperfluous eeven proportion,
And ſhe no whit encomber'd with her ſtore,
And then the giver would be better thank't,
His praiſe due paid, for ſwiniſh gluttony
Ne're looks to Heav'n amidſt his gorgeous feaſt,
But with beſotted baſe ingratitude
Cramms, and blaſphemes his feeder. Shall I go on?
Or have I ſaid anow? To him that dares
Arm his profane tongue with contemptuous words
Againſt the Sun-clad power of Chaſtity;
Fain would I ſomthing ſay, yet to what end?
Thou haſt nor Ear, nor Soul to apprehend
The ſublime notion, and high myſtery
That muſt be utter'd to unfold the ſage
And ſerious doctrine of Virginity,
And thou art worthy that thou ſhouldſt not know
More happineſs then this thy preſent lot.
Enjoy your dear Wit, and gay Rhetorick
That hath ſo well been taught her dazling fence,
Thou art not fit to hear thy ſelf convinc't;
Yet ſhould I try, the uncontrouled worth
Of this pure cauſe would kindle my rap't ſpirits
To ſuch a flame of ſacred vehemence,
That dumb things would be mov'd to ſympathize,
And the brute Earth would lend her nerves, and ſhake,
Till all thy magick ſtructures rear'd ſo high,
Were ſhatter'd into heaps o're thy falſe head.
Co.
She fables not, I feel that I do fear
Her words ſet off by ſom ſuperior power;
And though not mortal, yet a cold ſhuddring dew
Dips me all o're, as when the wrath of Jove
Speaks thunder, and the chains of Erebus
To ſom of Saturns crew. I muſt diſſemble,
And try her yet more ſtrongly. Com, no more,
This is meer moral babble, and direct
Againſt the canon laws of our foundation;
I muſt not ſuffer this, yet 'tis but the lees
And ſetlings of a melancholy blood;
But this will cure all ſtreight, one ſip of this
Will bathe the drooping ſpirits in delight
Beyond the bliſs of dreams. Be wiſe, and taſte.—
The Brothers ruſh in with Swords drawn, wreſt his Glaſs out of his hand, and break it againſt the ground; his rout make ſign of reſiſtance, but are all driven in; The attendant Spirit comes in.
Spir.
What, have you let the falſe Enchanter ſcape?
O ye miſtook, ye ſhould have ſnatcht his wand
And bound him faſt; without his rod revers't,
And backward mutters of diſſevering power,
We cannot free the Lady that ſits here
In ſtony fetters fixt, and motionleſs;
Yet ſtay, be not diſturb'd, now I bethink me,
Som other means I have which may be us'd,
Which once of Melibaeus old I learnt
The ſootheſt Shepherd that ere pip't on plains.
There is a gentle Nymph not far from hence,
That with moiſt curb ſways the ſmooth Severn ſtream,
Sabrina is her name, a Virgin pure,
Whilom ſhe was the daughter of Locrine,
That had the Scepter from his Father Brute.
The guiltleſs damſel flying the mad purſuit
Of her enraged ſtepdam Guendolen,
Commended her fair innocence to the flood
That ſtay'd her flight with his croſs flowing courſe,
The water Nymphs that in the bottom plaid,
Held up their pearled wriſts and took her in,
Bearing her ſtraight to aged Nereus Hall,
Who piteous of her woes, rear'd her lank head,
And gave her to his daughters to imbathe
In nectar'd lavers ſtrew'd with Aſphodil,
And through the porch and inlet of each ſenſe
Dropt in Ambroſial Oils till ſhe reviv'd,
And underwent a quick immortal change
Made Goddeſs of the River; ſtill ſhe retains
Her maid'n gentlenes, and oft at Eeve
Viſits the herds along the twilight meadows,
Helping all urchin blaſts, and ill luck ſignes
That the ſhrewd medling Elſe delights to make,
Which ſhe with pretious viold liquors heals.
For which the Shepherds at their feſtivals
Carrol her goodnes lowd in ruſtick layes,
And throw ſweet garland wreaths into her ſtream
Of pancies, pinks, and gaudy Daffadils.
And, as the old Swain ſaid, ſhe can unlock
The claſping charm, and thaw the numming ſpell,
If ſhe be right invok't in warbled Song,
For maid'nhood ſhe loves, and will be ſwift
To aid a Virgin ſuch as was her ſelf
In hard beſetting need, this will I try
And adde the power of ſom adjuring verſe.
SONG.
Sabrina fair
Liſten where thou art ſitting
Under the glaſſie, cool, tranſlucent wave,
In twiſted braids of Lillies knitting
The looſe train of thy amber-dropping hair,
Liſten for dear honours ſake,
Goddeſs of the ſilver lake,
Liſten and ſave.
Liſten and appear to us
In name of great Oceanus,
By the earth-ſhaking Neptune's mace,
And Tethys grave majeſtick pace,
By hoary Nereus wrincled look,
And the Carpathian wiſards hook,
By ſcaly Tritons winding ſhell,
And old ſooth-ſaying Glaucus ſpell,
By Leucothea's lovely hands,
And her ſon that rules the ſtrands,
By Thetis tinſel-ſlipper'd feet,
And the Songs of Sirens ſweet,
By dead Parthenope's dear tomb,
And fair Ligea's golden comb,
Wherewith ſhe ſits on diamond rocks
Sleeking her ſoft alluring locks,
By all the Nymphs that nightly dance
Upon thy ſtreams with wily glance,
Riſe, riſe, and heave thy roſie head
From thy coral-pav'n bed,
And bridle in thy headlong wave,
Till thou our ſummons anſwerd have.
Liſten and ſave.
Sabrina riſes, attended by water-Nymphs, & ſings.
By the ruſhy-fringed bank,
Where grows the Willow and the Oſier dank,
My ſliding Chariot ſtayes,
Thick ſet with Agat, and the azurn ſheen
Of Turkis blew, and Emrauld green
That in the channel ſtrayes,
Whilſt from off the waters fleet
Thus I ſet my printleſs feet
O're the Cowſlips Velvet head,
That bends not as I tread,
Gentle ſwain at thy requeſt
I am here.
Spir.
Goddeſs dear
We implore thy powerful hand
To undo the charmed band
Of true Virgin here diſtreſt,
Through the force, and through the wile
Of unbleſt inchanter vile.
Sab.
Shepherd 'tis my office beſt
To help inſnared chaſtity;
Brighteſt Lady look on me,
Thus I ſprinkle on thy breſt
Drops that from my fountain pure,
I have kept of pretious cure,
Thrice upon thy fingers tip,
Thrice upon thy rubied lip,
Next this marble venom'd ſeat
Smear'd with gumms of glutenous heat
I touch with chaſte palms moiſt and cold,
Now the ſpell hath loſt his hold;
And I muſt haſte ere morning hour
To wait in Amphitrite's bowr.
Sabrina deſcends, and the Lady riſes out of her ſeat.
Spir.
Virgin, daughter of Locrine
Sprung of old Anchiſes line
May thy brimmed waves for this
Their full tribute never miſs
From a thouſand petty rills,
That tumbled down the ſnowy hills:
Summer drouth, or ſinged air
Never ſcorch thy treſſes fair,
Nor wet Octobers torrent flood
Thy molten cryſtal fill with mudd,
May thy billows rowl aſhoar
The beryl, and the golden ore,
May thy lofty head be crown'd
With many a tower and terras round,
And here and there thy banks upon
With Groves of myrrhe, and cinnamon.
Com Lady while Heaven lends us grace,
Let us fly this curſed place,
Leſt the Sorcerer us entice
With ſom other new device.
Not a waſte, or needleſs ſound
Till we com to holier ground,
I ſhall be your faithfull guide
Through this gloomy covert wide,
And not many furlongs thence
Is your Fathers reſidence,
Where this night are met in ſtate
Many a friend to gratulate
His wiſh't preſence, and beſide
All the Swains that there abide,
With Jiggs, and rural dance reſort,
We ſhall catch them at their ſport,
And our ſudden coming there
Will double all their mirth and chere;
Com let us haſte, the Stars grow high,
But night ſits monarch yet in the mid sky.
The Scene changes, preſenting Ludlow Town and the Preſidents Caſtle, then com in Countrey-Dancers, after them the attendant Spirit, with the two Brothers and the Lady. SONG.
Spir.
Back Shepherds, back, anough your play,
Till next Sun-ſhine holiday,
Here be without duck or nod
Other trippings to be trod
Of lighter toes, and ſuch Court guiſe
As Mercury did firſt deviſe
With the mincing Dryades
On the Lawns, and on the Leas.
This ſecond Song preſents them to their Father and Mother.
Noble Lord, and Lady bright,
I have brought ye new delight,
Here behold ſo goodly grown
Three fair branches of your own,
Heav'n hath timely tri'd their youth,
Their faith, their patience, and their truth.
And ſent them here through hard aſſays
With a crown of deathleſs Praiſe,
To triumph in victorious dance
O're ſenſual Folly, and Intemperance.
The dances ended, the Spirit Epiloguizes.
Spir.
To the Ocean now I fly,
And thoſe happy climes that ly
Where day never ſhuts his eye,
Up in the broad fields of the sky:
There I ſuck the liquid air
All amidſt the Gardens fair
Of Heſperus, and his daughters three
That ſing about the golden tree:
Along the criſped ſhades and bowres
Revels the ſpruce and jocond Spring,
The Graces, and the roſie-booſom'd Howres,
Thither all their bounties bring,
That there eternal Summer dwels,
And Weſt winds, with musky wing
About the cedar'n alleys fling
Nard, and Caſſia's balmy ſmels.
Iris there with humid bow,
Waters the odorous banks that blow
Flowers of more mingled hew
Then her purfl'd ſcarf can ſhew,
And drenches with Elyſian dew
(Liſt mortals if your ears be true)
Beds of Hyacinth, and Roſes
Where young Adonis oft repoſes,
Waxing well of his deep wound
In ſlumber ſoft, and on the ground
Sadly ſits th' Aſſyrian Queen;
But far above in ſpangled ſheen
Celeſtial Cupid her fam'd Son advanc't,
Holds his dear Pyſche ſweet intranc't
After her wandring labours long,
Till free conſent the gods among
Make her his eternal Bride,
And from her fair unſpotted ſide
Two bliſsful twins are to be born,
Youth and Joy; ſo Jove hath ſworn.
But now my task is ſmoothly don,
I can fly, or I can run
Quickly to the green earths end,
Where the bow'd welkin ſlow doth bend,
And from thence can ſoar as ſoon
To the corners of the Moon.
Mortals that would follow me,
Love vertue, ſhe alone is free,
She can teach ye how to clime
Higher then the Spheary chime;
Or if Vertue feeble were,
Heav'n it ſelf would ſtoop to her.