Till an unusual ftop of fudden filence
Gave refpite to the drowfie frighted steeds
That draw the litter of close-curtain'd sleep,
At laft a foft and folemn breathing found
Rofe like a fteam of rich diftill'd perfumes,
And ftole upon the Air, that even Silence
Was took ere she was ware, and wifht she might
Deny her Nature, and be never more
Still to be fo difplac'd. I was all ear,
And took in ftrains 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 moft honour'd Lady, your dear Sifter.
Amaz'd I ftood, harrow'd with grief and fear,
And, O poor hapless Nightingale, thought I,
How sweet thou fing'ft, how near the deadly fnare!
Then down the Lawns I ran with headlong hafte,
Through paths and turnings often trod by day,
Till guided by mine ear I found the place
Where that damn'd wifard, hid in fly disguise,
(For fo by certain figns I knew) had met
Already, ere my beft fpeed could prevent,
The aidlefs innocent Lady his wifht prey;
Who gently afk'd if he had seen such two,
Suppofing him fome neighbour villager :
Longer I durft not stay, but foon I guess'd
Ye were the two fhe meant, with that I fprung
Into fwift flight, till I had found you

here.

But farther know I not. Y. Bro. O night and shades,

How are ye join'd with Hell in triple 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 ftill, Lean on it fafely; not a period

Shall be unfaid for me: against the threats

Of malice or of forcery, or that power,

Which erring men call Chance, this I hold firm,

Virtue may be affail'd, but never hurt,

Surpriz'd

Surpriz'd by unjuft force, but not inthrall'd;
Yea even that, which mischief meant most harm,
Shall in the happy trial prove most glory.
But evil on itself fhall back recoil,

And mix no more with goodness, when at last
Gather'd like fcum, and settl'd to itself,
It fhall be in eternal restless change
Self-fed, and felf-confumed; if this fail,
The pillar'd firmament is rottennefs,
And earth's base built on ftubble.
Against th' oppofing will and arm of Heav'n,
May never this juft Sword be lifted up;

But come, let's on:

But for that damn'd Magician, let him be girt
With all the griefly legions that troop
Under the footy flag of Acheron,

Harpyes and Hydras, or all the monstrous forms
"Twixt Africa and Inde, I'll 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 vent'rous Youth,

I love thy courage yet, and bold Emprife,
But here thy Sword can do thee little ftead;
Far other arms, and other weapons must

Be thofe, that quell the might of hellish Charms:
He with his bare wand can unthread thy joynts,
And crumble all thy finews.

Eld. Bro. Why prethee, Shepherd,

How durft thou then thy felf approach fo near,
As to make this Relation?

Spir. Care and utmost fhifts

How to fecure the Lady from furprifal,
Brought to my mind a certain Shepherd Lad,
Of small regard to fee to, yet well skill'd

In

every virtuous Plant and healing Herb,

That spreads her verdant leaf to th' morning ray;
He lov'd me well, and oft would beg me fing,
Which when I did, he on the tender grafs

Would

Would fit, and hearken ev'n to extafie,
And in requital ope his leathern fcrip,
And fhew me fimples of a thousand names,
Telling their strange and vigorous faculties.
Amongst the reft a fmall unfightly root,
But of divine effect, he cull'd me out;
The leaf was darkish, and had prickles on it,
But in another Country, as he faid,

Bore a bright golden Flower, but not in this foil:
Unknown, and like efteem'd, and the dull Swain
Treads on it daily with his clouted fhoon,
And yet more med'cinal is it than that Moly
That Hermes once to wife Uhes gave;
He call'd it Hemony, and gave it me,
And bad me keep it as of Sov'raign ufe
'Gainft all inchantments, mildew, blaft or dainp,
Or gaftly furies apparition.

I purs'd it up, but little reckoning made,
Till now that this extremity compell'd,
But now I find it true; for by this means
I knew the foul Inchanter, tho' difguis'd,
Enter'd the very lime-twigs of his fpells,
And yet came off: if you have this about you,
(As I will give you when we go) you may
Boldly affault the Necromancer's Hall;
Where if he be, with dauntless hardihood,
And brandifht blade rush on him, break his glafs,
And fhed the lufcious liquor on the ground;
But feize his wand, though he and his curft crew
Fierce fign of Battle make, and menace high,
Or like the Sons of Vulcan vomit fmoak;
Yet will they foon retire, if he but shrink.

Eld. Bro. Thyrfis, lead on apace, I'll follow thee;
And fome good Angel bear a fhield before us.

The Scene changes to a fately Palace, fet out with all manner of delicioufnefs: foft Mufick, Tables Spread with all dainties. Comus appears with his rabble, and the Lady fet in an inchanted Chair, to whom he offers his Glafs, which she puts by, and goes about to rife.

Comus. Nay, Lady, fit; if I but wave this Wand, Your nerves are all chain'd up in Alabaster,

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 mind
With all thy Charms, although this corporal rind
Thou haft immanacled, while Heav'n fees good.

Co. Why are you vext, Lady? why do you frown ?
Here dwell no frowns, nor anger; from thefe gates
Sorrow flies far: See! here be all the pleasures
That fancy can beget on youthful thoughts,
When the fresh blood grows lively, and returns
Brifk as the April buds in Primrose-season.
And firft behold this cordial Julep here,
That flames and dances in his crystal bounds,
With fpirits of balm, and fragrant Syrups mixt.
Not that Nepentes, which the Wife of Thone,
In Egypt gave to Jove-born Helena,
Is of fuch power to stir up joy as this,
To life fo friendly, or fo cool to thirst.
Why should you be fo cruel to yourself,
And to thofe dainty limbs, which Nature lent
For gentle ufage, and foft delicacy?
But you invert the Cov'nants of her truft,
And harfhly 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, eafe after pain,

That

That have been tir'd all day without repaft,
And timely reft have wanted: but, fair Virgin,
This will reftore all foon.

La. 'Twill not, false traitor,

'Twill not restore the truth and honesty,

That thou haft banisht from thy tongue with lyes.
Was this the cottage, and the fafe abode

Thou told'ft me of? What grim afpects are thefe,
Thefe owly-headed Monsters? Mercy guard me!
Hence with thy brew'd inchantments, foul deceiver.
Haft thou betray'd my credulous Innocence
With vifor'd falfhood, and bafe forgery,

And would'st thou feek again to trap me here
With lickerifh baits, fit to infnare a brute ?-
Were it a draught for Juno, when the banquets,
I would not tafte thy treafonous offer: none
But fuch as are good men can give good things,
And that, which is not good, is not delicious
To a well-govern'd and wife appetite.

Co. O foolishness of men ! that lend their ears To those budge Doctors of the Stoic Fur; And fetch their precepts from the Cynic Tub, Praifing the lean and fallow Abftinence. Wherefore did Nature pour her bounties forth With fuch a full and unwithdrawing hand, Covering the Earth with odours, fruits, and flocks, Thronging the Seas with spawn innumerable, But all to pleafe, and fate the curious taste ? And fet to work millions of spinning Worms, That in their green fhops weave the smooth-hair'd filk, To deck her Sons; and that no corner might Be vacant of her plenty, in her own loins She hutcht th' all-worshipt Ore, and precious Gems, To ftore her children with? If all the world Should in a pet of temperance feed on Pulfe, Drink the clear ftream, and nothing wear but Frieze, Th' All-giver would be unthank'd, would be unprais'd, Not half his riches known, and yet despis'd,

P 2

And