But O my virgin lady, where is she? How chance she is not in your company? El. Br. To tell thee sadly, shepherd, without blame, Or our neglect, we lost her as we came. Spirit. Ay me unhappy! then my fears are true. 510 El. Br. What fears, good Thyrsis? Prithee briefly shew. Spirit. I'll tell ye; 'tis not vain, or fabulous, (Though so esteem'd by shallow ignorance,) What the sage poets taught by th' heav'nly Muse, 515 Storied of old in high immortal verse Of dire chimeras and enchanted iles, And rifted rocks whose entrance leads to hell; 520 Immur'd in cypress shades a sorcerer dwells, By sly enticement gives his baneful cup, 525 With many murmurs mixt; whose pleasing poison The visage quite transforms of him that drinks, Fixes instead, unmoulding reason's mintage, Character'd in the face; this have I learn't 530 That brow this bottom glade; whence night by night He and his monstrous rout are heard to howl Doing abhorred rites to Hecate 535 In their obscured haunts of inmost bowers. 540 With ivy canopied, and interwove 545 550 555 Deny her nature, and be never more Still to be so displac't. I was all ear, 560 And took in strains that might create a soul 565 570 575 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. Second Brother. O night and shades, 580 How are ye join'd with hell in triple knot Which erring men call Chance, this I hold firm: Surpris'd by unjust force, but not enthrall'd; 590 Yea even that which mischief meant most harm, But evil on itself shall back recoil, And mix no more with goodness, when at last 595 It shall be in eternal restless change Self-fed, and self-consumed; if this fail, The pillar'd firmament is rottenness, And earth's base built on stubble. But come, let's on. Against th' opposing will and arm of Heav'n 600 May never this just sword be lifted up; But for that damn'd magician, let him be girt Harpies and hydras, or all the monstrous forms Spirit. Alas! good ventrous youth, Elder Brother. Why prithee, shepherd, 605 στο How durst thou then thyself approach so near 616 Care and utmost shifts Spirit. How to secure the lady from surprisal, 620 625 630 The leaf was darkish, and had prickles on it, But in another country, as he said, Bore a bright golden flower, but not in this soil: Unknown, and like esteem'd, and the dull swain Treads on it daily with his clouted shoon; 635 And yet more med'cinal is it than that moly That Hermes once to wise Ulysses gave; And bade me keep it as of sovran use 'Gainst all enchantments, mildew blast, or damp 640 Or ghastly 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 645 And yet came off: if you have this about you (As I will give you when we go), you may Boldly assault the necromancer's hall; Where if he be, with dauntless hardihood 650 And brandish't blade rush on him, break his glass, But seize his wand; though he and his curst crew El. Br. Thyrsis, lead on apace, I'll follow thee; 655 The Scene changes to a stately palace, set out with all manner of deliciousness; soft music, tables spread with all dainties. COMUS appears with his rabble, and the LADY set in an enchanted 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 Rootbound, that fled Apollo. Lady. Fool, do not boast; 660 Thou canst not touch the freedom of my mind 665 Comus. 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 youthful 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. 670 675 Why should you be so cruel to yourself, And to those dainty limbs which Nature lent 680 For gentle usage, and soft delicacy? But you invert the cov'nants of her trust, |