Comus. Why are you vex'd, lady? why do you frown? Here dwell no frowns nor anger; from thefe gates Sorrow flies far. See, here be all the pleasures Than fancy can beget on youthful thoughts. And firft behold this cordial julep here, That flames and dances in his crystal bounds.

Lady. Know, bafe deluder, that I will not tafte it. Keep thy detefted gifts for fuch as these.

[Points to his crew.
Comus. Why fhou'd you be fo cruel to yourself,
And to thofe dainty limbs, which Nature lent
For gentle ufage and foft delicacy?

That have been tir'd all day without repaft,
And timely reft have wanted.

This will reftore all foon.

But, fair virgin,

Lady. "Twill not, false traitor!

'Twill not restore the truth and honefty

That thou haft banish'd from thy tongue with lies.
Was this the cottage and the fafe abode

Thou told'st me of? Hence with thy brew'd enchant

ments.

Were it a draught for Juno when she banquets,

I wou'd not tafte thy treas'nous offer-None,
But fuch as are good men, can give good things;
And that which is not good is not delicious

To a well-govern'd and wife appetite.

Shall I go on? or have I said enough?
Comus. Enough to show

That you are cheated by the lying boasts
Of starving pedants, that affect a fame

From fcorning pleafures which they cannot reach.

Euphrofyne fings*.

Preach not to me your mufty rules,

Ye drones that mould in idle cell;
The heart is wifer than the schools,
The fenfes always reafon well.
If fhort my span, I lefs can spare
To pafs a fingle pleasure by;
An hour is long, if loft in care;
They only live who life enjoy.

Comus.

Sung by Comus, as now performed at Covent-garden theatre.

Comus. Lift, lady; be not coy, and be not cozen'd With that fame vaunted name virginity.

What need a vermeil tinctur'd lip for that,
Love-darting eyes, or treffes like the morn?
There was another meaning in these gifts;

Think what, and be advis'd: you are but young yet;
This will inform you foon.

One fip of this will bathe the drooping fpirits in delight, Beyond the blifs of dreams. Be wife, and taste..

[The Brothers rush in with fwords drawn, wrest the glafs out of his hand, and break it against the ground; his Rout make figns of refiftance, but are all driven off.

Enter the firft Spirit.

What, have you let the falfe enchanter 'scape?
O, ye miftook, you fhould have fnatch'd his wand
And bound him faft; without his rod revers'd,
We cannot free the lady, that fits here

In ftony fetters fix'd and motionless.

Yet ftay, be not difturb'd; now I bethink me.
There is a gentle nymph not far from hence,
Sabrina is her name, a virgin pure,

That fways the Severn ftream; fhe can unlock
The clafping charm, and thaw the numbing spell,
If the be right invok'd.

Sabrina fair,

Liften where thou art fitting

Under the glaffy, cool, tranflucent wave;
Liften for dear honour's fake,

Goddess of the filver lake,

Liften and fave.

Sabrina rifes and fings.

By the rufhy-fringed bank,

Where grows the willow and the ofier dank,
My fliding chariot stays,

Thick fet with agate, and the azure sheen
Of turkis blue and em'rald green,

That in the channel ftrays.

Gentle fwain, at thy request,

I am here.

First Spirit.

Goddefs dear,

We implore thy powerful hand
To undo the charmed band

Of true virgin here diftrefs'd,
Thro' the force and thro' the wile
Of unblefs'd enchanter vile.

Sab.

RECITATIVE.
Shepherd, 'tis my office bett
To help enfnared chastity.
Brighteft lady, look on me:
Thus I fprinkle on thy breaft
Drops, that from the fountain pure
I have kept, of precious cure;
Thrice upon thy finger's tip,
Thrice upon thy ruby'd lip:
Next this marble venom'd feat,
Smear'd with gums of glutinous heat,

I touch with chafte palms moift and cold:
Now the spell hath loft his hold;

And I must hafte, ere morning-hour,
To wait in Amphitrite's bower.

[Sabrina defcends, and the Lady rifes out of her feat;
the Brothers embrace her tenderly.

r. Bro. Why did I doubt? Why tempt the wrath of heav'n

To fhed juft vengeance on my weak distrust?

E. Bro. The freedom of the mind, you see, no charm,
No fpell, can reach; that righteous Jove forbids,
Left man fhould call his frail divinity
The flave of evil or the sport of chance.
Inform us, Thyrfis, if for this thine aid
We aught can pay that equals thy defert.

Firft Spirit difcovering himself.
Pay it to heaven! There my mansion is:
But when a mortal, favour'd of high Jove,
Chances to pass thro' yon advent'rous glade,
Swift as the sparkle of a glancing ftar

I fhoot from heav'n to give him safe convoy.
Now my task is fmoothly done,

I can fly or I can run,

VOL. IV.

2

U

Quickly

Quickly to the green earth's end,.

Where the bow'd welkin flow doth bend;
And from thence can foar as foon
To the corners of the moon.
Mortals that would follow me,
Love Virtue, fhe alone is free:
She can teach you how to climb
Higher than the fphery chime;
Or, if Virtue feeble were,
Heaven itself would ftoop to her.

THE

Enter WILL TIREHACK and HARRY SCAMPER, booted, with whips in their hands, into a fide-box.

SCAMPER.

SHA! zounds! prithee, Will, let us go; what

Tire. Nay, but tarry a little; befides, you know we promis'd to give Poll Baylifs and Bett Skinner the meeting.

U 3

Scam