.

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

Harpies and Hydras, or all the monstrous forms
'Twixt Africa and Inde, I'll find him out,
And force him to rettore his purchase back,
Or drag him by the curls to a foul death,
Curs'd as his life.

Spirit. Alas! good vent'rous youth,

I love thy courage yet, and bold emprise ;
But here thy fword can do thee little stead :
Far other arms, and other weapons must
Be thofe that quell the might of hellish charms.
He with his bare wand can unthread thy joints,
And crumble all thy finews.

E. Broth. Why prithee, fhepherd,

How durft thou then thyfelf approach fo near,
As to make this relation?

Spirit. A fhepherd lad,

• Of fmall regard to fee to, yet

well skill'd • In every virtuous plant and healing herb,

• That spreads her verdant leaf to the morning ray, Has thewn me fimples of a thousand names,

Telling their strange and vigorous faculties.
Among the reft a fmall unfightly root,

But of divine effect, he cull'd me out;

And bad me keep it as of fov'reign ufe

• 'Gainst all enchantment, mildew, blast, or damp, Or ghaftly fury's apparition.

I purs'd it up. If you have this about you

(As I will give you when you go) you may
Boldly affault the necromancer's hall;

• Where if he be, with dauntless hardyhood
And brandished blade rush on him, break his glass,
And shed the luscious liquor on the ground;
⚫ But feize his wand, tho' he and his curs'd crew
Fierce fign of battle make, and menace high,
Or like the fons of Vulcan vomit fmoke,
Yet will they foon retire, if he but shrink.'

END of the SECOND ACT.

ACT

ACT III.

SCENE opens, and difcovers' a magnificent hall in Comus's palace, fet off with all the gay decorations proper for an ancient banquetting-room. Comus and attendants ftand on each fide of the lady, who is feated in, an inchanted chair; and by her looks and geftures expreffes great figns of uncafinefs and melancholy.

COMUS Speaks.

ENCE, loathed melancholy,

Hof Cerberus and blackest midnight born,

In Stygian cave forlorn.

''Mongit horrid fhapes, and fhrieks, and fights unholy, Find out fome uncouth cell,

• Where brooding darkness fpreads his jealous wings, And the night-raven fings;

• There, under ebon-shades, and low-brow'd rocks,
As ragged as thy locks,

In dark Cimmerian defert ever dwell.
But' come, thou goddess fair and free,

In heaven yclep'd Euphrofyne,

And by men, heart-eafing Mirth,
Whom lovely Venus at a birth

With two fifter graces more,
To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore.

Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee

Jeft and youthful jollity,

Quips and cranks, and wanton wiles,
Nods and becks, and wreathed fmiles,

Such as hang on Hebe's cheek,
And love to live in dimple fleek;
Sport, that wrinkled Care derides,
And Laughter holding both his fides.
Come, and trip it as you go,
On the light fantastic toe;

And in thy right hand lead with thee

The mountain-nymph, sweet Liberty.

[Whilft thefe lines are repeating, enter a nymph reprefenting Euphrofyne, or Mirth; who advances to the lady, and fings the following fong.

SONG

SON G.

Come, come, bid adieu to fear,
Love and harmony live here.
No domestic jealous jars,
Buzzing flanders, wordy wars,
In my prefence will appear;
Love and harmony reign here.

Sighs to amorous fighs returning,
Pulfes beating, bofoms burning,
Bofoms with warm wishes panting,
Words to speak those wishes wanting,
Are the only tumults here,
All the woes you need to fear;
Love and harmony reign here.

Lady. How long muft I, by magic fetters chain'd To this detefted feat, hear odious ftrains

Of fhameless folly, which my foul abhors?

Comus. Ye fedge-crown'd Naiades, by twilight feen Along Mæander's mazy border green,

At Comus' call appear in all your azure sheen.

[He waves his wand, the Naiades enter, and range
themfelves in order to dance.

Now foftly flow let Lydian meafures move,
And breathe the pleafing pangs of gentle love..
In fwimming dance on air's foft billows float,
Soft fwell your bofoms with the fwelling note;
With pliant arm in graceful motion vie,

• Now funk with cafe, with eafe now lifted high;:
Till lively gefture each fond care reveal,

• That mufic can exprefs, or paffion feel.'

[The Naiades dance a flow dance agreeable to the fub'ject of the preceeding lines, and expreffive of the pallion of love.

[After this dance' the paftoral nymph advances flow, with a melancholy and defponding air, to the fide of the ftage, and repeats, by way of foliloquy, the first

3

fiz

fix lines, and then fings the ballad. In the mean time he is obferv'd by Euphrofyne, who by her gefure expreffes to the audience her different fentiments of the fubject of her complaint, fuitably to the character of their feveral fongs.

RECITATIVE.

How gentle was my Damon's air!
Like funny beams his golden hair,
His voice was like the nightingale's,
More fweet his breath than flow'ry vales.
How hard fuch beauties to refign!
And yet that cruel task is mine!

A BALL A D.

On every hill, in every grove,
Along the margin of each stream,
Dear confcious fcenes of former love,
I mourn, and Damon is my theme.
The hills, the groves, the ftreams remain,
But Damon there I feek in vain.

• Now to the moffy cave I fly,

Where to my fwain I oft have fung,
• Well pleas'd the browfing goats to spy,
As o'er the airy steep they hung.
The moffy cave, the goats remain,
But Damon there I feek in vain.

Now through the winding vale I pafs, And figh to fee the well-known shade; 'I weep, and kifs the bended grafs,

Where love and Damon fondly play'd. The vale, the fhade, the grafs remain, But Damon there I feek in vain.'

From hill, from dale, each charm is fled,

Groves, flocks, and fountains please no more,
Each flower in pity droops its head,
All nature does my lofs deplore.

All, all reproach the faithlefs fwain,
Yet Damon ftill I feek in vain.

RECITA.

34

RECITATIVE. By Euphrofyne.

Love, the greatest blifs below,
How to tafte few women know;
Fewer fill the way have hit
How a fickle fwain to quit.
Simple nymphs, then learn of me,
How to treat inconstancy.

BALLA D.

The wanton god, that pierces hearts,
Dips in gall his pointed darts;
But the nymph difdains to pine,
Who bathes the wound with rofy wine.
Farewel lovers, when they're cloy'd;
If I am fcorn'd, because enjoy'd,
Sure the fqueamish fops are free
To rid me of dull company.

They have charms whilft mine can please,
I love thein much, but more my ease;
Nor jealous fears my love moleft,
Nor faithlefs vows fall break my

rest.

Why should they e'er give me pain,
Who to give me joy disdain?
All I hope of mortal man,
Is to love me whilst he can.

Comus Speaks.

Caft thine eyes around and fee,
How from every element,
Nature's fweets are cull'd for thee,
And her choiceft bleffings fent.

Fire, water, earth, and air combine
To compofe the rich repaft,
Their aid the distant feafons join,

To court thy fmell, thy fight, thy taste."

Hither, fuminer, autumn, fpring,
Hither all your tributes bring;

All