And if your ftray-attendance be yet lodg'd,
Or fhroud within these limits, I fhall know
Ere morrow wake, or the low-roofted lark
From her thatch'd pallat rowfe; if otherwise
I can conduct you, lady, to a low
But loyal cottage, where you may be fafe
Till further queft. La. Shepherd, I take thy word, And truft thy honeft offer'd courtesy,
Which oft is fooner found in lowly fheds
With fmoaky rafters, than in tap'stry halls
And courts of princes, where it firft was nam'd,
And yet is most pretended: in a place
Lefs warranted than this, or less secure
I cannot be, that I fhould fear to change it.
Eye me, bleft providence, and fquare my trial
To my proportion'd ftrength.
Eld. Bro. Unmuffle ye faint flars, and thou fair moon
That wont'ft to love the travellers benizon,
Stoop thy pale visage through an amber cloud,
And difinherit Chaos, that reigns here
In double night of darkness, and of shades;
Or if your influence be quite damm'd up
With black ufurping mifts, fome gentle taper
Though a rush-candle from the wicker hole
Of fome clay habitation visit us
With thy long levéll'd rule of streaming light.
And thou shalt be our ftar of Arcady,
Of Tyrian cynofure. 2. Bro. Or if our eyes
Be barr'd that happiness, might we but hear
The folded flocks pen'd in their watled cotes,
Or found of paftoral reed with oaten stops,
Or whistle from the lodge, or village cock
Count the night watches to his feathery dames,
'Twould be fome folace yet, fome little chearing
In this close dungeon of innumerous bows.
But O that hapless virgin! our loft fifter,
Where may she wander now, whither betake her
From the chill dew, amongst rude burs and thistles?
Perhaps fome cold bank is her boulster now,
Or 'gainst the rugged bark of fome broad elm
Leans her unpillow'd head, fraught with fad fears.
What if in wild amazement, and affright,
Or, while we speak, within the direful grasp
Of favage hunger, or of savage heat?
Eld. Bro. Peace, brother, be not over-exquifite
To caft the fashion of uncertain evils;
For grant they be fo, 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 fuch felf-delufion?
I do not think my fifter fo to feek,
Or fo unprincipl'd in virtue's book,
And the fweet peace that goodness bosoms 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.
Virtue could fee to do what virtue would
By her own radiant light, though fun and moon
Were in the flat fea funk. And wifdom's felf Oft feeks to sweet retired folitude,
Where with her beft nurse contemplation,
She plumes her feathers and lets grow her wings,
That in the various bustle of refort
Were all too ruffl'd, and fometimes impair'd.
He that has light within his own clear breast
May fit i' th' center, and enjoy bright day;
But he that hides a dark foul, and foul thoughts,
Benighted walks under the mid-day fun;
Himfelf is his own dungeon.
2 Bro. Tis most true,
That mufing.meditation moft affects
The penfive fecrecy of defart cell,
Far from the cheerful haunt of men and herds,
And fits as fafe as in a fenat house:
For who would rob a hermit of his weeds,
His few books, or his beads, or maple difh,
Or do his gray hairs any violence?
But beauty, like the fair hefperian tree
Laden with blooming gold, had need the guard
Of dragon- watch with uninchanted eye,
To fave her bloffoms, and defend her fruit
From the rafh hand of bold incontinence.
You may as well spread out the unfunn'd heaps
Of mifers treasure by an outlaw's den,
And tell me it is fafe, as bid me hope
Danger will wink on opportunity,
And let a fingle helpless maiden pafs
Uninjur’d in this wild furrounding waste
Of night, or loneliness it recks me not,
I fear the dread events that dog them both,
Left fome ill-greeting touch attempt the person
Of our unowned fifter.
Eld. Bro. I do not, brother,
Infer, as if I thought my fifter's state
Secure without all doubt, or controverfy:
Yet where an equal poife of hope and fear
Does arbitrate th' event, my nature is
That I incline to hope, rather than fear,
And gladly banish squint fufpicion.
My fifter is not fo defenceless left
As you imagine, she has a hidden strength
Which you remember not.
2 Bro. What hidden strength,
Unless the ftrength of heav'n, if you mean that?
Eld. Bro. I mean that too, but yet a hidden ftrength, 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 forefts, and unharbour'd heaths,
Infamous hills, and fandy perilous wildes,
Where through the facred rays of chastity,
No favage fierce, bandite, or mountaineer
Will dare to foil her virgin purity:
Yea there, where very defolation dwells
By grots, and caverns fhag'd with horrid shades,
She may pass on with unblench'd majesty,
Be it not done in pride, or in presumption,
Some fay no evil thing that walks by night,
In fog, or fire, by lake, or moorish fen,
Blue meager hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost,
That breaks his magick chains at Curfue time,
No goblin, or fwart fairy of the mine,
Hath hurtful power o'er true virginity.
Do ye believe me yet, or fhall I called
Antiquity from the old fchools of Greece
To testify the arms of chastity?
Hence had the huntress Dian her dread bow,
Fair filver-fhafted queen for ever chaste,
Wherewith fhe tam'd the brinded lioness,
And fpotted mountain pard, but fet at nought
The frivolous bolt of Cupid; gods and men
Fear'd her ftern frown, and fhe was queen o'th' woods.
What was that fnaky-headed Gorgon fhield as
That wife Minerva wore, unconquer'd virgin,
Wherewith fhe freez'd her foes to congeal'd ftone,
But rigid looks of chaste austerity,
And noble grace that dash'd brute violence
With fudden adoration, and blank aw?
So dear to heav'n is faintly chastity,
That when a foul is found fincerely fo,
A thousand livéried angels lacky her,
Driving far off each thing of fin and guilt,
And in clear dream, and folemn vifion,
Tell her of things that no gross ear can hear,
Till oft converse with heav'nly habitants
Begin to caft a beam on th' outward shape,
The unpolluted temple of the mind,
And turns it by degrees to the foul's effence,
Till all be made immortal: but when luft,
By unchafte looks, loose geftures, and foul talk,
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