The attendant Spirit afterwards in
  the habit of Thyrsis.
Comus with his crew.
The Lady.
I. Brother.
2. Brother.
Sabrina the Nymph.

The Lord Bracly,
Mr. Thomas Egerton, his Brother,
The Lady Alice Egerton.

                         A

      M A S K

                   PRESENTED

          At LUDLOW-Castle,

                  1634. &c.

_______________________________________

The first Scene discovers a wilde Wood.

The attendant Spirit descends or enters.

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 severall goverment,

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 perill,

But that by quick command from Soveran Jove

I was dispatcht for their defence, and guard;

And listen why, for I will tell ye 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 therfore 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 Travailer,

His orient liquor in a Crystal Glasse,

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 some 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.

Therfore 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 skierobes 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 lesse faith,

And in this office of his Mountain watch,

Likeliest, and neerest 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 Mon-
 sters headed like sundry sorts of wilde Beasts,
 but otherwise like Men and Women, their Ap-
 parel glistring, they com in making a riotous
 and unruly noise, with Torches in their hands.

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 onely day-light that makes Sin,

Which these dun shades will ne're report.

Hail Goddesse of Nocturnal sport

Dark vaild 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 darknes spets her thickest gloom,

And makes one blot of all the ayr,

Stay thy cloudy Ebon chair,

Wherin thou rid'st with Hecat', 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 tel-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 neer about this ground.

Run to your shrouds, within these Brakes and Trees,

Our number may affright: Som 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 hugg him into snares. When once her eye

Hath met the vertue of this Magick dust,

I shall appear som harmles Villager

Whom thrift keeps up about his Country gear,

But here she comes, I fairly step aside

And hearken, if I may, her busines here.

<                 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 unleter'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 Travailer?

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 hov'ring Angel girt with golden wings,

And thou unblemish't form of Chastity,

I see ye visibly, and now beleeve

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.

            By slow Meander's margent green,

           Canst thou not tell me of a gentle Pair
                
                That likest thy Narcissus are?

     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

Unlesse the Goddes that in rurall 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 leavy 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 faëry 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 thach'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.

That wontst to love the travailer's benizon,

Stoop thy pale visage through an amber cloud,

And disinherit Chaos, that raigns here

In double night of darknes, 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 Arcady,

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 oaten stops,

Or whistle from the Lodge, or village cock

Count the night watches to his feathery Dames,

T'would 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 direfull 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, or 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 lonelines 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 equall 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 Forests, 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 Faëry of the mine,

Hath hurtfull power o're true virginity.

Do ye beleeve 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,

Wherwith 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 Charnell 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 sensualty

To a degenerate and degraded state.

  2 Bro. How charming is divine Philosophy!

Not harsh, 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, list, I hear

Som far off hallow break the silent Air.

  2 Bro. Methought so too; what should it be?

  Eld. Bro. For certain

Either som one like us night-founder'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 near,

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.

Under the sooty flag of Acheron,

Harpyies 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;

Farr 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 sinews.

  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 spreads 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 ecstasie,

And in requitall ope his leather'n 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 swayn

Treads on it daily with his clouted shoon,

And yet more med'cinal is it then that Moly

He call'd it Hæmony, and gave it me,

And bade me keep it as of sovran 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

Feirce 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 sheild before us.

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 falsehood, and base forgery,

And wouldst 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 wel-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 Frieze,

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 swell, & 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 shameless brows.

List Lady be not coy, and be not cosen'd

With that same vaunted name Virginity,

Beauty is nature's 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 workmanship;

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 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 cateress

Means her provision onely 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 anough? 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 Eare, 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 happines then this thy present lot.

Enjoy your deer 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 signe of resistance, but
      are all driven in; The attendant Spirit comes
      in.

Which once of Meliboeus old I learnt

The soothest Shepherd that ere pip't on plains.

  There is a gentle Nymph not farr 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 damsell 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 Elf delights to make,

Which she with pretious viold liquors heals.

For which the Shepherds at their festivals

Carrol her goodnes loud 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 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,

Wherwith 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 answer'd have.

                            Listen and save.

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 tumble 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 terrass 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 intice

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.

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 Psyche 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.

        The End.