Part of an Entertainment presented to the Countess Dowager of Derby at Harefield by some Noble Persons of her Family; who appear on the Scene in pastoral habit, moving toward the seat of state, with this song:—
Look, Nymphs and Shepherds, look!What sudden blaze of majestyIs that which we from hence descry,Too divine to be mistook?This, this is she5To whom our vows and wishes bend:Here our solemn search hath end.Fame, that her high worth to raiseSeemed erst so lavish and profuse,We may justly now accuse10Of detraction from her praise:Less than half we find expressed;Envy bid conceal the rest.
Look, Nymphs and Shepherds, look!
What sudden blaze of majesty
Is that which we from hence descry,
Too divine to be mistook?
This, this is she5
To whom our vows and wishes bend:
Here our solemn search hath end.
Fame, that her high worth to raise
Seemed erst so lavish and profuse,
We may justly now accuse10
Of detraction from her praise:
Less than half we find expressed;
Envy bid conceal the rest.
Mark what radiant state she spreads,In circle round her shining throne15Shooting her beams like silver threads:This, this is she alone,Sitting like a goddess brightIn the centre of her light.
Mark what radiant state she spreads,
In circle round her shining throne15
Shooting her beams like silver threads:
This, this is she alone,
Sitting like a goddess bright
In the centre of her light.
Might she the wiseLatonabe,20Orthe towered Cybele,Mother of a hundred gods?Juno dares not give her odds:Who had thought this clime had heldA deity so unparalleled?25
Might she the wiseLatonabe,20
Orthe towered Cybele,
Mother of a hundred gods?
Juno dares not give her odds:
Who had thought this clime had held
A deity so unparalleled?25
As they come forward,the Genius of the Woodappears, and, turning toward them, speaks.
Gen.Stay, gentle Swains, for, though in this disguise,I see bright honor sparkle through your eyes;Of famous Arcady ye are, and sprungOf that renowned flood, so often sung,Divine Alpheus, who, by secret sluice,30Stole under seas to meet his Arethuse;And ye, the breathing roses of the wood,Fair silver-buskined Nymphs, as great and good.I know this quest of yours and free intentWas all in honor and devotion meant35To the great mistress of yon princely shrine,Whom with low reverence I adore as mine,And with all helpful service will complyTo further this night’s glad solemnity,And lead ye where ye may more near behold40What shallow-searching Fame hath left untold;Which I full oft, amidst those shades alone,Have sat to wonder at, and gaze upon.For know, by lot from Jove, I am the PowerOf this fair wood, and live in oaken bower,45To nurse the saplings tall, andcurl the groveWith ringlets quaint and wanton windings wove;And all my plants I save from nightly illOfnoisomewinds and blasting vapors chill;And from the boughs brush off the evil dew,50And heal the harms ofthwarting thunder blue,Or whatthe cross dire-looking planetsmites,Or hurtful worm with cankered venom bites.Whenevening graydoth rise, I fetch my roundOver the mount, and all this hallowed ground;55And early, ere the odorous breath of mornAwakes the slumbering leaves, or tasselled hornShakes the high thicket, haste I all about,Number my ranks, and visit every sproutWith puissant words andmurmursmade to bless.60But else, in deep of night, when drowsinessHath locked up mortal sense, then listen ITothe celestial Sirens’ harmony,That sit uponthe nine infolded spheres,And sing to those that hold the vital shears,65And turn the adamantine spindle roundOn which the fate of gods and men is wound.Such sweet compulsion doth in music lie,To lullthe daughters of Necessity,And keep unsteady Nature to her law,70And the low world in measured motion drawAfter the heavenly tune,which none can hearOf human mould with gross unpurged ear.And yet such music worthiest were to blazeThe peerless height of her immortal praise75Whose lustre leads us, and for her most fit,If my inferior hand or voice could hitInimitable sounds. Yet, as we go,Whate’er the skill of lesser gods can showI will assay, her worth to celebrate,80And so attend ye toward her glittering state;Where ye may all, that are of noble stem,Approach, and kiss her sacred vesture’s hem.
Gen.Stay, gentle Swains, for, though in this disguise,
I see bright honor sparkle through your eyes;
Of famous Arcady ye are, and sprung
Of that renowned flood, so often sung,
Divine Alpheus, who, by secret sluice,30
Stole under seas to meet his Arethuse;
And ye, the breathing roses of the wood,
Fair silver-buskined Nymphs, as great and good.
I know this quest of yours and free intent
Was all in honor and devotion meant35
To the great mistress of yon princely shrine,
Whom with low reverence I adore as mine,
And with all helpful service will comply
To further this night’s glad solemnity,
And lead ye where ye may more near behold40
What shallow-searching Fame hath left untold;
Which I full oft, amidst those shades alone,
Have sat to wonder at, and gaze upon.
For know, by lot from Jove, I am the Power
Of this fair wood, and live in oaken bower,45
To nurse the saplings tall, andcurl the grove
With ringlets quaint and wanton windings wove;
And all my plants I save from nightly ill
Ofnoisomewinds and blasting vapors chill;
And from the boughs brush off the evil dew,50
And heal the harms ofthwarting thunder blue,
Or whatthe cross dire-looking planetsmites,
Or hurtful worm with cankered venom bites.
Whenevening graydoth rise, I fetch my round
Over the mount, and all this hallowed ground;55
And early, ere the odorous breath of morn
Awakes the slumbering leaves, or tasselled horn
Shakes the high thicket, haste I all about,
Number my ranks, and visit every sprout
With puissant words andmurmursmade to bless.60
But else, in deep of night, when drowsiness
Hath locked up mortal sense, then listen I
Tothe celestial Sirens’ harmony,
That sit uponthe nine infolded spheres,
And sing to those that hold the vital shears,65
And turn the adamantine spindle round
On which the fate of gods and men is wound.
Such sweet compulsion doth in music lie,
To lullthe daughters of Necessity,
And keep unsteady Nature to her law,70
And the low world in measured motion draw
After the heavenly tune,which none can hear
Of human mould with gross unpurged ear.
And yet such music worthiest were to blaze
The peerless height of her immortal praise75
Whose lustre leads us, and for her most fit,
If my inferior hand or voice could hit
Inimitable sounds. Yet, as we go,
Whate’er the skill of lesser gods can show
I will assay, her worth to celebrate,80
And so attend ye toward her glittering state;
Where ye may all, that are of noble stem,
Approach, and kiss her sacred vesture’s hem.
O’er the smooth enamelled green,Where no print of step hath been,85Follow me, as I singAndtouch the warbled string:Under the shady roofOf branching elm star-proofFollow me.90I will bring you where she sits,Clad in splendor as befitsHer deity.Such a rural QueenAll Arcadia hath not seen.95
O’er the smooth enamelled green,
Where no print of step hath been,85
Follow me, as I sing
Andtouch the warbled string:
Under the shady roof
Of branching elm star-proof
Follow me.90
I will bring you where she sits,
Clad in splendor as befits
Her deity.
Such a rural Queen
All Arcadia hath not seen.95
Nymphs and Shepherds, dance no moreBy sandyLadon’slilied banks;On oldLycæus, or Cyllenehoar,Trip no more in twilight ranks;ThoughErymanthyour loss deplore,100A better soil shall give ye thanks.From the stonyMænalusBring your flocks, and live with us;Here ye shall have greater grace,To serve the Lady of this place.105Though Syrinx your Pan’s mistress were,Yet Syrinx well might wait on her.Such a rural QueenAll Arcadia hath not seen.
Nymphs and Shepherds, dance no more
By sandyLadon’slilied banks;
On oldLycæus, or Cyllenehoar,
Trip no more in twilight ranks;
ThoughErymanthyour loss deplore,100
A better soil shall give ye thanks.
From the stonyMænalus
Bring your flocks, and live with us;
Here ye shall have greater grace,
To serve the Lady of this place.105
Though Syrinx your Pan’s mistress were,
Yet Syrinx well might wait on her.
Such a rural Queen
All Arcadia hath not seen.
Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heaven’s joy,Sphere-born harmonious sisters, Voice and Verse,Wed your divine sounds, and mixed power employ,Dead things with inbreathed sense able to pierce;And to our high-raised phantasy present5That undisturbed song of pure concent,Aye sung beforethe sapphire-colored throneTo Him that sits thereon,With saintly shout and solemn jubilee;Where the bright Seraphim in burning row10Their loud uplifted angel-trumpets blow,And the Cherubic host in thousand quiresTouch their immortal harps of golden wires,With those just Spirits that wear victorious palms,Hymns devout and holy psalms15Singing everlastingly:That we on Earth, with undiscording voice,May rightly answer that melodious noise;As once we did, till disproportioned sinJarred against nature’s chime, and with harsh din20Broke the fair music that all creatures madeTo their great Lord, whose love their motion swayedIn perfect diapason, whilst they stoodIn first obedience, and their state of good.O, may we soon again renew that song,25And keep in tune with Heaven, till God ere longTo his celestialconsortus unite,To live with Him, and sing in endless morn of light!
Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heaven’s joy,
Sphere-born harmonious sisters, Voice and Verse,
Wed your divine sounds, and mixed power employ,
Dead things with inbreathed sense able to pierce;
And to our high-raised phantasy present5
That undisturbed song of pure concent,
Aye sung beforethe sapphire-colored throne
To Him that sits thereon,
With saintly shout and solemn jubilee;
Where the bright Seraphim in burning row10
Their loud uplifted angel-trumpets blow,
And the Cherubic host in thousand quires
Touch their immortal harps of golden wires,
With those just Spirits that wear victorious palms,
Hymns devout and holy psalms15
Singing everlastingly:
That we on Earth, with undiscording voice,
May rightly answer that melodious noise;
As once we did, till disproportioned sin
Jarred against nature’s chime, and with harsh din20
Broke the fair music that all creatures made
To their great Lord, whose love their motion swayed
In perfect diapason, whilst they stood
In first obedience, and their state of good.
O, may we soon again renew that song,25
And keep in tune with Heaven, till God ere long
To his celestialconsortus unite,
To live with Him, and sing in endless morn of light!
A MASQUE PRESENTED AT LUDLOW CASTLE, 1634.
The first Scene discovers a wild wood.
TheAttendant Spiritdescends or enters.
Spirit.Before the starry threshold of Jove’s courtMy mansion is, where those immortal shapesOf bright aerial spirits liveinspheredIn regions mild of calm and serene air,Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot5Which men call Earth, and, with low-thoughted care,Confined and pestered in this pinfold here,Strive to keep up a frail and feverish being,Unmindful of the crown that Virtue gives,After this mortal change, to her true servants10Amongst the enthroned godson saintedseats.Yet some there be that by due steps aspireTo lay their just hands on that golden keyThat opes the palace of eternity.To such my errand is; and, but for such,15I would not soilthese pure ambrosial weedsWith the rank vapors of this sin-worn mould.But to my task. Neptune, besides the swayOf every salt flood and each ebbing streamTook in,by lot ’twixt high and nether Jove.20Imperial rule of all the sea-girt islesThat, like to rich and various gems, inlayThe unadorned bosom of the deep;Which he, to grace his tributary gods,By course commits to several government,25And gives them leave to wear their sapphire crownsAnd wield their little tridents.But this Isle,The greatest and the best of all the main,Hequartersto his blue-haired deities;And all this tract that fronts the falling sun30A noble Peerof mickle trust and powerHas in his charge, with tempered awe to guideAnold and haughty nation, proud in arms:Wherehis fair offspring, nursed in princely lore,Are coming to attend their father’s state,35And new-intrusted sceptre. But their wayLies throughthe perplexed paths of this drear wood,The nodding horror of those shady browsThreats the forlorn and wandering passenger;And here their tender age might suffer peril,40But that, by quick command fromsovranJove,I was despatched for their defence and guard!And listen why; for I will tell you nowWhat never yet was heard in tale or song,From old or modern bard,in hall or bower.45Bacchus, that first from out the purple grapeCrushed the sweet poison of misused wine,After the Tuscan mariners transformed,Coasting the Tyrrhene shore, as the winds listed,On Circe’s islandfell. (Who knows notCirce,50The daughter of the Sun, whose charmed cupWhoever tasted lost his upright shape,And downward fell into a grovelling swine?)This Nymph, that gazed upon his clustering locks,With ivy berries wreathed, and his blithe youth,55Had by him, ere he parted thence, a sonMuch like his father, but his mother more,Whom therefore she brought up, andComusnamed:Who, ripe andfrolicof his full-grown age,Rovingthe Celtic and Iberian fields,60At last betakes him to thisominouswood,And, in thick shelter of black shades imbowered,Excels his mother at her mighty art;Offering to every weary travellerHis orient liquorin a crystal glass,65To quench the drouth of Phœbus; which as they taste(For most do taste through fond intemperate thirst),Soon as the potion works, their human count’nance,The express resemblance of the gods, is changedInto some brutish form of wolf or bear,70Or ounce or tiger, hog, or bearded goat,All other parts remaining as they were.And they, so perfect in their misery,Not once perceive their foul disfigurement,But boast themselves more comely than before,75And all their friends and native home forget,To roll with pleasure in a sensual sty.Therefore, when any favored of high JoveChances to pass through this adventurous glade,Swift as the sparkle of a glancing star80I shoot from heaven, to give him safe convoy,As now I do. But first I must put offThese my sky-robes, spun out of Iris’ woof,And take theweedsand likeness of a swainThat to the service of this house belongs,85Who, with his soft pipe and smooth-dittied song,Well knows to still the wild windswhen they roar,And hush the waving woods;nor of less faith,And in this office of his mountain watchLikeliest, and nearest to the present aid90Of this occasion. But I hear the treadOf hateful steps; I must be viewless now.
Spirit.Before the starry threshold of Jove’s court
My mansion is, where those immortal shapes
Of bright aerial spirits liveinsphered
In regions mild of calm and serene air,
Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot5
Which men call Earth, and, with low-thoughted care,
Confined and pestered in this pinfold here,
Strive to keep up a frail and feverish being,
Unmindful of the crown that Virtue gives,
After this mortal change, to her true servants10
Amongst the enthroned godson saintedseats.
Yet some there be that by due steps aspire
To lay their just hands on that golden key
That opes the palace of eternity.
To such my errand is; and, but for such,15
I would not soilthese pure ambrosial weeds
With the rank vapors 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 nether Jove.20
Imperial rule of all the sea-girt isles
That, like to rich and various gems, inlay
The unadorned bosom of the deep;
Which he, to grace his tributary gods,
By course commits to several government,25
And gives them leave to wear their sapphire crowns
And wield their little tridents.But this Isle,
The greatest and the best of all the main,
Hequartersto his blue-haired deities;
And all this tract that fronts the falling sun30
A noble Peerof mickle trust and power
Has in his charge, with tempered awe to guide
Anold and haughty nation, proud in arms:
Wherehis fair offspring, nursed in princely lore,
Are coming to attend their father’s state,35
And new-intrusted sceptre. But their way
Lies throughthe perplexed paths of this drear wood,
The nodding horror of those shady brows
Threats the forlorn and wandering passenger;
And here their tender age might suffer peril,40
But that, by quick command fromsovranJove,
I was despatched 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 bower.45
Bacchus, that first from out the purple grape
Crushed the sweet poison of misused wine,
After the Tuscan mariners transformed,
Coasting the Tyrrhene shore, as the winds listed,
On Circe’s islandfell. (Who knows notCirce,50
The daughter of the Sun, whose charmed cup
Whoever tasted lost his upright shape,
And downward fell into a grovelling swine?)
This Nymph, that gazed upon his clustering locks,
With ivy berries wreathed, and his blithe youth,55
Had by him, ere he parted thence, a son
Much like his father, but his mother more,
Whom therefore she brought up, andComusnamed:
Who, ripe andfrolicof his full-grown age,
Rovingthe Celtic and Iberian fields,60
At last betakes him to thisominouswood,
And, in thick shelter of black shades imbowered,
Excels his mother at her mighty art;
Offering to every weary traveller
His orient liquorin a crystal glass,65
To quench the drouth of Phœbus; which as they taste
(For most do taste through fond intemperate thirst),
Soon as the potion works, their human count’nance,
The express resemblance of the gods, is changed
Into some brutish form of wolf or bear,70
Or ounce or tiger, hog, or bearded goat,
All other parts remaining as they were.
And they, so perfect in their misery,
Not once perceive their foul disfigurement,
But boast themselves more comely than before,75
And all their friends and native home forget,
To roll with pleasure in a sensual sty.
Therefore, when any favored of high Jove
Chances to pass through this adventurous glade,
Swift as the sparkle of a glancing star80
I shoot from heaven, to give him safe convoy,
As now I do. But first I must put off
These my sky-robes, spun out of Iris’ woof,
And take theweedsand likeness of a swain
That to the service of this house belongs,85
Who, with his soft pipe and smooth-dittied song,
Well knows to still the wild windswhen 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 aid90
Of this occasion. But I hear the tread
Of hateful steps; I must be viewless now.
Comusenters, with a charming-rod in one hand, his glass in the other; with him a rout of monsters, headed like sundry sorts of wild 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 foldNow the top of heaven doth hold;Andthe gilded car of day95His glowing axledoth allayIn thesteepAtlantic stream:And the slope sun his upward beamShoots against the duskypole,Pacing toward the other goal100Of his chamber in the east.Meanwhile, welcome joy and feast,Midnight shout and revelry,Tipsy dance and jollity.Braid your lockswith rosy twine,105Dropping odors, dropping wine.Rigor now is gone to bed;AndAdvicewith scrupulous head,Strict Age, and sour Severity,Withtheir grave saws, in slumber lie.110We, that are of purer fire,Imitate the starry quire,Who, in their nightly watchful spheres,Lead in swift round the months and years.The sounds and seas, with all their finny drove,115Now to the moonin wavering morricemove;And on the tawny sands and shelvesTrip the pert fairies andthe dapper elves.By dimpled brook and fountain-brim,The wood-nymphs, decked with daisies trim,120Their merry wakes and pastimes keep:What hath night to do with sleep?Night hath better sweets to prove;Venus now wakes, and wakensLove.Come, let us our rites begin;125’Tis only daylight that makes sin,Which these dun shades will ne’er report.Hail, goddess of nocturnal sport,Dark-veiled Cotytto, to whom the secret flameOf midnight torches burns! mysterious dame,130That ne’er art called but when the dragon wombOf Stygian darkness spets her thickest gloom,Andmakes one blot of all the air!Stay thy cloudy ebon chair,Whereinthou ridest with Hecat’, and befriend135Us thy vowed priests, till utmost endOf all thy dues be done, and none left outEre the blabbing eastern scout,The nice Mornon the Indian steep,From her cabined loop-hole peep,140And to the tell-tale SundescryOur concealed solemnity.Come, knit hands, and beat the groundIn a light fantastic round.
Comus.The star that bids the shepherd fold
Now the top of heaven doth hold;
Andthe gilded car of day95
His glowing axledoth allay
In thesteepAtlantic stream:
And the slope sun his upward beam
Shoots against the duskypole,
Pacing toward the other goal100
Of his chamber in the east.
Meanwhile, welcome joy and feast,
Midnight shout and revelry,
Tipsy dance and jollity.
Braid your lockswith rosy twine,105
Dropping odors, dropping wine.
Rigor now is gone to bed;
AndAdvicewith scrupulous head,
Strict Age, and sour Severity,
Withtheir grave saws, in slumber lie.110
We, that are of purer fire,
Imitate the starry quire,
Who, in their nightly watchful spheres,
Lead in swift round the months and years.
The sounds and seas, with all their finny drove,115
Now to the moonin wavering morricemove;
And on the tawny sands and shelves
Trip the pert fairies andthe dapper elves.
By dimpled brook and fountain-brim,
The wood-nymphs, decked with daisies trim,120
Their merry wakes and pastimes keep:
What hath night to do with sleep?
Night hath better sweets to prove;
Venus now wakes, and wakensLove.
Come, let us our rites begin;125
’Tis only daylight that makes sin,
Which these dun shades will ne’er report.
Hail, goddess of nocturnal sport,
Dark-veiled Cotytto, to whom the secret flame
Of midnight torches burns! mysterious dame,130
That ne’er art called but when the dragon womb
Of Stygian darkness spets her thickest gloom,
Andmakes one blot of all the air!
Stay thy cloudy ebon chair,
Whereinthou ridest with Hecat’, and befriend135
Us thy vowed priests, till utmost end
Of all thy dues be done, and none left out
Ere the blabbing eastern scout,
The nice Mornon the Indian steep,
From her cabined loop-hole peep,140
And to the tell-tale Sundescry
Our concealed solemnity.
Come, knit hands, and beat the ground
In a light fantastic round.
Break off,break off! I feel the different pace145Of some chaste footing near about this ground.Run to yourshroudswithin 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,150And tomy wily trains: I shall ere longBe well stocked with as fair a herd as grazedAbout my mother Circe. Thus I hurlMy dazzling spells into thespongy air,Of power to cheat the eye withblearillusion,155And give it false presentments, lest the placeAnd 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,160And well-placed words of glozing courtesy,Baited with reasons not unplausible,Wind me into the easy-hearted man,And hug him into snares. When once her eyeHath met the virtue of this magic dust165I shall appear some harmless villager,Whom thrift keeps up about his country gear.But here she comes; I fairly step aside,And hearken, if I may her business hear.
Break off,break off! I feel the different pace145
Of some chaste footing near about this ground.
Run to yourshroudswithin 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,150
And tomy wily trains: I shall ere long
Be well stocked with as fair a herd as grazed
About my mother Circe. Thus I hurl
My dazzling spells into thespongy air,
Of power to cheat the eye withblearillusion,155
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,160
And well-placed words of glozing courtesy,
Baited with reasons not unplausible,
Wind me into the easy-hearted man,
And hug him into snares. When once her eye
Hath met the virtue of this magic dust165
I shall appear some harmless villager,
Whom thrift keeps up about his country gear.
But here she comes; I fairly step aside,
And hearken, if I may her business hear.
TheLadyenters.
Lady.This way the noise was, if mine ear be true,170My best guide now. Methought it was the soundOf riot and ill-managed merriment,Such as the jocund flute or gamesome pipeStirs up amongthe loose unlettered hinds,When, for theirteemingflocks and granges full,175In wanton dance they praise the bounteous Pan,And thank the godsamiss. I should be lothTo meet the rudeness andswilledinsolenceOf such latewassailers; yet, oh! where elseShall I inform my unacquainted feet180In the blind mazes of this tangled wood?My brothers, when they saw me wearied outWith this long way, resolving here to lodgeUnder the spreading favor of these pines,Stepped, as they said, to the next thicket-side185To bring me berries, or such cooling fruitAs the kind hospitable woods provide.They left me then whenthe gray-hooded Even,Like a sad votarist in palmer’s weed,Rose from the hindmost wheels of Phœbus’ wain.190But where they are, and why they came not back,Is now the labor of my thoughts. ’Tis likeliestThey had engaged their wandering steps too far;And envious darkness, ere they could return,Had stole them from me. Else, O thievish Night,195Why shouldst thou, but for some felonious end,In thy dark lantern thus close up the starsThat Nature hung in heaven, and filled their lampsWith everlasting oil, to give due lightTo the misled and lonely traveller?200This is the place, as well as I may guess,Whence even now thetumult of loud mirthWas rife, and perfect in my listening ear;Yet nought but single darkness do I find.What might this be? A thousand fantasies205Begin to throng into my memory,Of calling shapes, and beckoning shadows dire,And airy tongues that syllable men’s namesOn sands and shores and desert wildernesses.These thoughtsmay startle well, but not astound210The virtuous mind, that ever walks attendedBya strong siding champion, Conscience.O, welcome, pure-eyed Faith, white-handed Hope,Thou hovering angel girt with golden wings,And thou unblemished form of Chastity!215I see thee visibly, and now believeThat He, the Supreme Good, to whom all things illAre but as slavish officers of vengeance,Would send a glistering guardian, if need were,To keep my life and honor unassailed....220Was I deceived, or did a sable cloudTurn forthher silver liningon the night?I did not err: there does a sable cloudTurn forth her silver lining on the night,And casts a gleam over this tufted grove.225I cannot hallo to my brothers, butSuch noise as I can make to be heard farthestI’ll venture; for my new-enlivened spiritsPrompt me, and they perhaps are not far off.
Lady.This way the noise was, if mine ear be true,170
My best guide now. Methought it was the sound
Of riot and ill-managed merriment,
Such as the jocund flute or gamesome pipe
Stirs up amongthe loose unlettered hinds,
When, for theirteemingflocks and granges full,175
In wanton dance they praise the bounteous Pan,
And thank the godsamiss. I should be loth
To meet the rudeness andswilledinsolence
Of such latewassailers; yet, oh! where else
Shall I inform my unacquainted feet180
In the blind mazes of this tangled wood?
My brothers, when they saw me wearied out
With this long way, resolving here to lodge
Under the spreading favor of these pines,
Stepped, as they said, to the next thicket-side185
To bring me berries, or such cooling fruit
As the kind hospitable woods provide.
They left me then whenthe gray-hooded Even,
Like a sad votarist in palmer’s weed,
Rose from the hindmost wheels of Phœbus’ wain.190
But where they are, and why they came not back,
Is now the labor of my thoughts. ’Tis likeliest
They had engaged their wandering steps too far;
And envious darkness, ere they could return,
Had stole them from me. Else, O thievish Night,195
Why shouldst thou, but for some felonious end,
In thy dark lantern thus close up the stars
That Nature hung in heaven, and filled their lamps
With everlasting oil, to give due light
To the misled and lonely traveller?200
This is the place, as well as I may guess,
Whence even now thetumult of loud mirth
Was rife, and perfect in my listening ear;
Yet nought but single darkness do I find.
What might this be? A thousand fantasies205
Begin to throng into my memory,
Of calling shapes, and beckoning shadows dire,
And airy tongues that syllable men’s names
On sands and shores and desert wildernesses.
These thoughtsmay startle well, but not astound210
The virtuous mind, that ever walks attended
Bya strong siding champion, Conscience.
O, welcome, pure-eyed Faith, white-handed Hope,
Thou hovering angel girt with golden wings,
And thou unblemished form of Chastity!215
I see thee visibly, and now believe
That He, the Supreme Good, to whom all things ill
Are but as slavish officers of vengeance,
Would send a glistering guardian, if need were,
To keep my life and honor unassailed....220
Was I deceived, or did a sable cloud
Turn forthher silver liningon 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.225
I cannot hallo to my brothers, but
Such noise as I can make to be heard farthest
I’ll venture; for my new-enlivened spirits
Prompt me, and they perhaps are not far off.
Sweet Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv’st unseen230Within thy airy shellBy slowMeander’smargent green,And in the violet-embroidered valeWhere the love-lorn nightingaleNightly to thee her sad song mourneth well:235Canst thou not tell me of a gentle pairThat likest thyNarcissusare?O, if thou haveHid them in some flowery cave,Tell me but where,240Sweet Queen of Parley,Daughter of the Sphere!So may’st thou be translated to the skies,And give resounding grace to all Heaven’s harmonies!
Sweet Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv’st unseen230
Within thy airy shell
By slowMeander’smargent green,
And in the violet-embroidered vale
Where the love-lorn nightingale
Nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well:235
Canst thou not tell me of a gentle pair
That likest thyNarcissusare?
O, if thou have
Hid them in some flowery cave,
Tell me but where,240
Sweet Queen of Parley,Daughter of the Sphere!
So may’st thou be translated to the skies,
And give resounding grace to all Heaven’s harmonies!
Comus.Can any mortal mixture of earth’s mouldBreathe such divine enchanting ravishment?245Sure something holy lodges in that breast,And with these raptures moves the vocal airTo testify his hidden residence.How sweetly did they float upon the wingsOf silence, through the empty-vaulted night,250At every fallsmoothing the raven downOf darkness till it smiled! I have oft heardMy mother Circe withthe Sirensthree,Amidst the flowery-kirtledNaiades,Culling their potent herbs and baleful drugs,255Who, as they sung, would take the prisoned soul,And lap it in Elysium:Scyllawept,And chid her barking waves into attention,And fellCharybdismurmured soft applause.Yet theyin pleasing slumber lulled the sense,260And in sweet madness robbed it of itself;But such a sacred and home-felt delight,Such sober certainty of waking bliss,I never heard till now. I’ll speak to her,And she shall be my queen.—Hail, foreign wonder!265Whom certain these rough shades did never breed,Unless the goddessthat in rural shrineDwell’st here with Pan or Sylvan, by blest songForbidding every bleak unkindly fogTo touch the prosperous growth of this tall wood.270
Comus.Can any mortal mixture of earth’s mould
Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment?245
Sure something holy lodges in that breast,
And with these raptures moves the vocal air
To testify his hidden residence.
How sweetly did they float upon the wings
Of silence, through the empty-vaulted night,250
At every fallsmoothing the raven down
Of darkness till it smiled! I have oft heard
My mother Circe withthe Sirensthree,
Amidst the flowery-kirtledNaiades,
Culling their potent herbs and baleful drugs,255
Who, as they sung, would take the prisoned soul,
And lap it in Elysium:Scyllawept,
And chid her barking waves into attention,
And fellCharybdismurmured soft applause.
Yet theyin pleasing slumber lulled the sense,260
And in sweet madness robbed it of itself;
But such a sacred and home-felt delight,
Such sober certainty of waking bliss,
I never heard till now. I’ll speak to her,
And she shall be my queen.—Hail, foreign wonder!265
Whom certain these rough shades did never breed,
Unless the goddessthat in rural shrine
Dwell’st here with Pan or Sylvan, by blest song
Forbidding every bleak unkindly fog
To touch the prosperous growth of this tall wood.270
Lady.Nay, gentle shepherd, ill is lost that praiseThat is addressed to unattending ears.Not any boast of skill, butextreme shiftHow to regain my severed company,Compelled me to awake the courteous Echo275To give me answer from her mossy couch.
Lady.Nay, gentle shepherd, ill is lost that praise
That is addressed to unattending ears.
Not any boast of skill, butextreme shift
How to regain my severed company,
Compelled me to awake the courteous Echo275
To give me answer from her mossy couch.
Comus.What chance, good Lady, hath bereft you thus?
Comus.What chance, good Lady, hath bereft you thus?
Lady.Dim darkness and this leavy labyrinth.
Lady.Dim darkness and this leavy labyrinth.
Comus.Could that divide you from near-ushering guides?
Comus.Could that divide you from near-ushering guides?
Lady.They left me weary on a grassy turf.280
Lady.They left me weary on a grassy turf.280
Comus.By falsehood, or discourtesy, or why?
Comus.By falsehood, or discourtesy, or why?
Lady.To seek i’ the valley some cool friendly spring.
Lady.To seek i’ the valley some cool friendly spring.
Comus.And left your fair side all unguarded, Lady?
Comus.And left your fair side all unguarded, Lady?
Lady.They were but twain, and purposed quick return.
Lady.They were but twain, and purposed quick return.
Comus.Perhaps forestalling night prevented them.285
Comus.Perhaps forestalling night prevented them.285
Lady.How easy my misfortune is to hit!
Lady.How easy my misfortune is to hit!
Comus.Imports their loss, beside the present need?
Comus.Imports their loss, beside the present need?
Lady.No less than if I should my brothers lose.
Lady.No less than if I should my brothers lose.
Comus.Were they of manly prime, or youthful bloom?
Comus.Were they of manly prime, or youthful bloom?
Lady.As smooth as Hebe’s their unrazored lips.290
Lady.As smooth as Hebe’s their unrazored lips.290
Comus.Two such I saw, what timethe labored oxIn his loose tracesfrom the furrow came,And the swinked hedger at his supper sat.I saw them undera green mantling vine,That crawls along the side of yon small hill,295Plucking ripe clusters from the tender shoots;Their port was more than human, as they stood.I took it for a faery visionOf somegay creatures of the element,That in the colors of the rainbow live,300And play i’ the plighted clouds. I was awe-strook,And, as I passed, I worshiped. If those you seek,It were a journey like the path to HeavenTo help you find them.
Comus.Two such I saw, what timethe labored ox
In his loose tracesfrom the furrow came,
And the swinked hedger at his supper sat.
I saw them undera green mantling vine,
That crawls along the side of yon small hill,295
Plucking ripe clusters from the tender shoots;
Their port was more than human, as they stood.
I took it for a faery vision
Of somegay creatures of the element,
That in the colors of the rainbow live,300
And play i’ the plighted clouds. I was awe-strook,
And, as I passed, I worshiped. If those you seek,
It were a journey like the path to Heaven
To help you find them.
Lady.Gentle villager,What readiest way would bring me to that place?305
Lady.Gentle villager,
What readiest way would bring me to that place?305
Comus.Due west it rises from this shrubby point.
Comus.Due west it rises from this shrubby point.
Lady.To find out that, good shepherd, I suppose,In such a scant allowance of star-light,Would overtask the best land-pilot’s art,Without the sure guess of well-practised feet.310
Lady.To find out that, good shepherd, I suppose,
In such a scant allowance of star-light,
Would overtask the best land-pilot’s art,
Without the sure guess of well-practised feet.310
Comus.I know each lane, and every alley green,Dingle, or bushy dell, of this wild wood,And every bosky bourn from side to side,My daily walks and ancient neighborhood;And, if your stray attendance be yet lodged,315Or shroud within these limits, I shall knowEre morrow wake, or the low-roosted larkFrom her thatched pallet rouse. If otherwise,I can conduct you, Lady, to a lowBut loyal cottage, where you may be safe320Till further quest.
Comus.I know each lane, and every alley green,
Dingle, or bushy dell, of this wild wood,
And every bosky bourn from side to side,
My daily walks and ancient neighborhood;
And, if your stray attendance be yet lodged,315
Or shroud within these limits, I shall know
Ere morrow wake, or the low-roosted lark
From her thatched pallet rouse. If otherwise,
I can conduct you, Lady, to a low
But loyal cottage, where you may be safe320
Till further quest.
Lady.Shepherd, I take thy word,And trust thy honest-offered courtesy,Which oft is sooner found in lowly sheds,With smoky rafters, than in tapestry hallsAnd courts of princes,where it first was named,325And yet is most pretended. In a placeLess warranted than this, or less secure,I cannot be, that I should fear to change it.Eye me, blest Providence, andsquare my trialTo my proportioned strength! Shepherd, lead on....330
Lady.Shepherd, I take thy word,
And trust thy honest-offered courtesy,
Which oft is sooner found in lowly sheds,
With smoky rafters, than in tapestry halls
And courts of princes,where it first was named,325
And yet is most pretended. In a place
Less warranted than this, or less secure,
I cannot be, that I should fear to change it.
Eye me, blest Providence, andsquare my trial
To my proportioned strength! Shepherd, lead on....330
TheTwo Brothers.
TheTwo Brothers.
Eld. Bro.Unmuffle, ye faint stars; and thou, fair moon,That wont’st to lovethe traveller’s benison,Stoop thy pale visagethrough an amber cloud,And disinherit Chaos, that reigns hereIn double night of darkness and of shades;335Or, if your influence be quite dammed upWith black usurping mists, some gentle taper,Thougha rush-candlefrom the wicker holeOf some clay habitation, visit usWith thy long levelled rule of streaming light,340And thou shalt be ourstar of Arcady,Or Tyrian Cynosure.
Eld. Bro.Unmuffle, ye faint stars; and thou, fair moon,
That wont’st to lovethe traveller’s benison,
Stoop thy pale visagethrough an amber cloud,
And disinherit Chaos, that reigns here
In double night of darkness and of shades;335
Or, if your influence be quite dammed up
With black usurping mists, some gentle taper,
Thougha rush-candlefrom the wicker hole
Of some clay habitation, visit us
With thy long levelled rule of streaming light,340
And thou shalt be ourstar of Arcady,
Or Tyrian Cynosure.