"And rifted rocks, whose entrance leads to hell; "For such there be; but unbelief is blind. E. Bro. "Proceed, good Shepherd! I am all attention." 200 "F." Spi. Within the navel of this hideous wood, Immur'd in cypress shades, a sorcerer dwells, Of Bacchus and of Circe born, great Comus, Deep skill'd in all his mother's witcheries, And wanton as his father; "And here to ev'ry thirsty wanderer 'By sly enticements gives his baneful cup, "With many murmurs mix'd, whose pleasing poison "The visage quite transforms of him that drinks, "And the inglorious likeness of a beast "Fixes instead, unmoulding reason's mintage "Character'd in the face." This have I learnt Tending my flock hard by, "i' th' hilly crofts "That brow this bottom glade," whence night by night He and his monstrous rout are heard to howl "Like stabled wolves or tigers at their prey, Doing abhorred rites to Hecate "In their obscured haunts and inmost bow'rs.” D 210 220 presence; "Gleams thro' the shade," and this way guides their steps. Let us withdraw a while and watch their motions. [They retire. Enter COMUS' Crew revelling, and by turns caressing each other, till they observe the Two Brothers; then the Elder Brother advances and speaks. E. Bro. What are you, speak, that thus in wanton riot And midnight revelry, like drunken Bacchanals, Invade the silence of these lonely shades? F. Wom. Ye godlike youths! "whose radiant forms excel "The blooming grace of Maia's winged son," 230 [She offers them the cup, which they both put by. SONG. By a Man. By the gayly circling glass How the waining night grows old. 240 E. Bro. Forbear, nor offer us the poison'd sweets "SONG. "Fame's an echo, prattling double, "Why then, why such toil and pain 250 E. Bro. "By her own sentence Virtue stands ab solv'd, "Nor asks an echo from the tongues of men "To tell what hourly to herself she proves. "Who wants his own no other praise enjoys; "His ear receives it as a fulsome tale "To which his heart in secret gives the lie: 260 "An inward peace, which flatter'd guilt ne'er knew." F. Wom. Oh! how unseemly shews in blooming youth Such grey severity!. -But come with us, We to the bow'r of bliss will guide your steps; On the gay spring of life, youth's flow'ry prime, SONG. By a Woman in a pastoral habit. Would you taste the noon-tide air, Your breast may beat to love's alarms, 270 280 E. Bro. "How low sinks beauty when by vice de bas'd! "How fair that form if virtue dwelt within! 290 Y. Bro. "Short is the course of ev'ry lawless pleasure; "Grief like a shade on all its footsteps waits, "Scarce visible in joy's meridian height, "But downward as its blaze declining speeds "The dwarfish shadow to a giant spreads." F. Wom. No more; these formal maxims misbecome you; They only suit suspicious shrivell'd Age. SONG. By a Man and two Women. Live and love, enjoy the fair, From the fruits of sweet delight 300 E. Bro. How can your impious tongues profane the name Of sacred Virtue, and yet promise pleasure From virtue sever'd pleasure phrenzy grows, "The gay delirium of the fev'rish mind, "And always flies at reason's cool return. 310 |