"Whatever blessed spirit hovers near, "On errands bent to wand'ring mortal good, S. Spi. "Swift as winged winds "To my glad charge I fly. [Exit. "To watch the sorcerer, for I hear the tread "Of hateful steps: I must be viewless now." 140 COMUS enters with a charming rod in one hand, his glass in the other, with him a rout of Men and Women dressed as Bacchanals; they come in making a riotous and unruly noise, with torches in their hands. Comus speaks.] The star that bids the shepherd fold Now the top of heav'n doth hold, And the gilded car of day His glowing axle doth allay And the slope sun his upward beam SONG. Now Phoebus sinketh in the west, Welcome song and welcome jest, 150 And Advice with scrup❜lous head, Strict Age and sour Severity, With their grave saws, in slumber lie. We, that are of purer fire, Imitate the starry choir, Who, in their nightly watchful spheres, Lead in swift round the months and years. The sounds and seas, with all their finny drove, SONG. By a Woman. By dimpled brook and fountain brim Night has better sweets to prove ; 'Tis only day-light that makes sin. Comus. Hail, goddess of nocturnal sport, 160 170 Dark-veil'd Cotytto! to whom the secret flame 180 Of midnight torches burn. Mysterious dame! Wherein thou rid'st with Hecat', and befriend Of all thy dues be done, and none left out; The nice Morn, on th' Indian steep And to the tell-tale Sun descry Our conceal'd solemnity. SONG. By COMUS and Woman. We follow sweet variety; By turns we drink, and dance, and sing, Why should niggard rules control Comus. Come, knit hands and beat the ground In a light fantastic round. A Dance. Break off, break off; I feel the diff'rent pace 190 200 Run to your shrouds within these brakes and trees; Benighted in these woods. Now to my charms, Wind me into the easy-hearted man, And hug him into snares. When once her eye I shall appear some harmless villager Whom thrift keeps up about his country gear. aside And hearken if I may her bus'ness here. Enter the Lady. 210 220 Lady. This way the noise was, if mine ear be true, My best guide now: methought it was the sound 230 Of riot and ill-manag'd merriment; "Such as the jocund flute or gamesome pipe "Stirs up among the loose unletter'd hinds, "When, for their teeming flocks and granges full, 240 Comus aside.] I'll ease her of that care, and be her guide. Lady. My brothers, when they saw me weary'd out "With this long way, resolving here to lodge "Under the spreading favour of these pines," Stepp'd, as they said, 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 grey-hooded Even, "Like a sad votarist in palmer's weeds, 249 "Rose from the hind most wheels of Phœbus' wain ;" But where they are, and why they come not back, Is now the labour of my thoughts: 'tis likeliest They had engag'd their wand'ring steps too far. "This is the place, as well as I may guess, "Whence, ev'n now, the tumult of loud mirth "Was rife, and perfect in my list'ning ear, "Yet nought but single darkness do I find. "What might this be? A thousand fantasies Begin to throng into my memory, "Of calling shapes and beck'ning shadows dire, 260 "And aery tongues, that syllable mens' names "On sands, and shores, and desert wildernesses. |