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COMU S.

The first SCENE discovers a Wild Wood.

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Confin'd, and pefter'd in this pin-fold here,
Strive to keep up a frail and feverish being,
Untmindful of the crown that Virtue gives
After this mortal change to her true fervants
Amongst the enthron'd Gods on fainted feats.
Yet fome there be that by due fteps afpire
To lay their juft hands on that golden key,
That opes the palace of eternity:
To fuch my errand is; and but for fuch,
I would not foil thefe pure ambrofial weeds
With the rank vapors of this fin-worn mold.

ΙΟ

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But to my task. Neptune, befides the fway
Of every falt flood, and cach ebbing stream,
Took in by lot 'twixt high and nether Jove 20
Imperial rule of all the fea-girt iles,

That like to rich and various gems inlay
The unadorned bofom of the deep,

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Which he to grace his tributary Gods,
By courfe commits to feveral government,
And givesthem leave to wear their fapphire crowns,
And wield their little tridents: but this lle,
The greatest and the beft of all the main,
He quarters to his blue-hair'd deities;
And all this tract that fronts the falling fun
A noble Peer of nickle truft and power
Has in his charge, with temper'd awe to guide
An old, and haughty nation proud in arms:
Where his fair offspring nurs'd in princely lore
Are coming to attend their father's state,
And new-intrufted fcepter; but their way
Lies through the perplex'd paths of this drear wood,
The nodding horror of whofe fhady brows
Threats the forlorn and wandering passenger;

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And here their tender age might fuffer peril, 40
But that by quick command from sovran Jove
I was dispatch'd for their defense and guard;
And liften why, for will tell you now
What never yet was heard in tale or fong,
From old or modern bard, in hall or bower. 45
Bacchus, that firft from out the purple grape
Crush'd the sweet poifon of mif-used wine,
After the Tufcan mariners transform'd,
Coafting the Tyrrhene fhore, as the winds lifted,
On Circe's iland fell: (Who knows not Circe 50
The daughter of the fun? whofe charm'd cup
Whoever tafted, loft his upright fhape,
And downward fell into a groveling wine)
This Nymph that gaz'd upon his clustering locks,
With ivy berries wreath'd, and his blithe youth, 55
Had by him, ere he parted thence, a fon
Much like his father, but his mother more,
Whom therefore he brought up, and Comus

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Therefore when any favor'd of high Jove Chances to pass through this adventrous glade, Swift as the fparkle of a glancing flar 80

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I fhoot from Heav'n, to give him fafe convoy,
As now I do: But first 1 muft put off
Thefe my fky robes fpun cut of Iris' woof,
And take the weeds and likeness of a swain,
That to the fervice of this house belongs,
Who with his foft pipe, and fimooth dittied fong,
Well knows to fill the wild winds when they roar,
And hush the waving woods, nor of lefs faith,
And in this office of his mountain watch,
Likelieft, and nearest to the prefint aid
Of this occafion. But I hear the tread
Of hateful fleps. I must be view lefs now.

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Break off, break of, I feel the different pace 143
Of fome chatte footing near about this ground.
Run to your throuds, within thefe brakes and trees;
Our number may affright: Some virgin fure
(For fo I can distinguish by mine art)

Benighted in the fewoods. Now to my charms, 150
And to my wily trains; I fhail ere long
Be well-tock'd with as fair a herd as graz'd
About my mother Circe. Thus I hurl
My dazling fpells into the fpungy air,

Of power to cheat the eye with blear illufion, 155
And give it falfe prefentments, left the place
And my quaint habits breed aftonishment,
And put the damfel to fufpicious flight,

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Which must not be, for that's against my course;
I under fair pretence of friendly ends,
And well-plac'd words of glozing courtesy
Baited with reafons not unplaufible,

Wind me into the eafy-hearted man,

And hug him into fuares. When once her eye Hath met the virtue of this magic duft,

I fhall appear fome harmlefs villager,

Whom thrift keeps up about his country gear. But here fhe comes, I fairly step aside,

And hearken, if I may, her bufinefs here.

The LADY enters.

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This way the noife was, if mine car be true, 1 My belt guide now; methought it was the found Of riot and ill-manag'd merriment,

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Such as the jocund flute, or gamefome pipe,
Stirs up among the leofe unletter'd hinds,
When for their tecming flocks, and granges full,
In wanton dance they praife the bounteous Pan,
And thank the Gods amifs. I fhould be loath
To meet the rudenefs and fwill'd infolence
Of fuch late waffailers; yet O where elfe
shall I inform my unacquainted feet
In the blind mazes of this tangled wood?
My Brothers, when they faw me wearied out
With this long way, refolving here to ledge
ledge
Under the fpreading favor of thefe pines,
Stept, as they faid, to the next thicket fide
To bring me berries, or fuch cooling fruit
As the kind hofpitable woods provide.
They left nie then, when the gray-hooded Even,
Like a fad votarit in palmer's weed,

Rofe from the hindmoft wheels of Phobus' wais
But where they are, and why they came not bad
Is now the labor of my thoughts; 'tis likelieft
They had engag'd their wandering Reps too far,
And envious darknefs, ere they could return, 19
Had ftole them from me; elfe, O thievith Night

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That he, the Supreme Good, t' whom all things ill
Are but as flavish officers of vengeance,
Would fend a gliftering guardian, if need were,
To keep my life and honor unaffail'd.
Was I deceiv'd, or did a fable cloud
Turn forth her filver lining on the night?
I did not err, there does a fable cloud
Turn forth her filver lining on the night,
And cafts a gleam over this tufted grove.
I cannot hallow to my Brothers, but
Such noife as I can make to be heard farthest
I'll venture, for my new inliven'd spirits
Prompt me; and they perhaps are not far off.

SONG.

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Coм. Can any mortal mixture of carth's mold Breathe fuch divine inchanting ravifhurent? 245 Sure fomething holy lodges in that breait, And with these raptures moves the vocal air To teftify his hidden refidence:

How fweetly did they flote upon the wings

Of filence, through the empty-vaulted night, 250
At every fall fimoothing the raven down
Of darknefs till it fmil'd! I have oft heard
My mother Circe with the Syrens three,
Amidst the flowery-kirtled Naiades

Culling their potent herbs, and baleful drugs, 255
Who as they fung, would take the prifen'd foul,

And lap it in Elysium; Scylla wept,
And chid her barking waves into attention,
And fell Charybdis murmur'd foft applaufe:
Yet they in pleafing flumber lull'd the fenfe, 26ɔ
And in fweet madnefs robb'd it of itfelf;
But fuch a facred, and home-felt delight,
Such fober certainty of waking blifs,

I never heard till now. I'll fpeak to her, 264
And the fhall be my queen. Hail, foreign wonder,
Whom certain thefe rough fhades did never breed,
Unless the Goddefs that in rural farine
Dwell'ft here with Pan, or Sylvan, by bleft fong
Forbidding every bleak unkindly fog
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To touch the profperous growth of this tall wood.
LA. Nay, gentle Shepherd, ill is loft that praife
That is addrefs'd to unattending ears;
Nor any boat of skill, but extreme shift
How to regain my fever'd company,
Compell'd me to awake the courteous Echo 275
To give me anfwer from her moffy couch.

COM. What chance, good Lady, hath bereft
you thus?

LA. Dim darknefs, and this leafy labyrinth.
COM. Could that divide you from near-ufhering
guides?

LA. They left me weary on a graffy turf. 280
Coм. By falfhood, or difcourtefy, or why?
LA. To feck i'th' valley fome cool friendly
fpring.

Coм. And left your fair fide all unguarded,
Lady?

LA. They were but twain, and purpos'd quick

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I cannot be, that I should fear to change it.
Eye me, bleft Providence, and fquare my trial
To my proportion'd strength! Shepherd, lead on.
The two BROTHERS.

1 BRO. Unmuffle, ye faint Stars, and thou fair
Moon,
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That wont'ft to love the traveller's benizon,
Stoop thy pale vifage through an amber cloud,
And difinherit Chaos, that reigns here
In double night of darknefs and of fhades;
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

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With thy long level'd rule of streaming light, 340
And thou shalt be our ftar of Arcady,
Or Tyrian Cynosure.

2 BRO. Or if our eyes

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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 fweet retir'd folitude,
Where with her beft nurse contemplation
She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings,
That in the various buftle of refort
Were all too ruffled, and fometimes impair'd. 380
He that has light within his own clear breaft
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;
Himself is his own dungeon.

2 BRO. 'Tis most true,

That musing meditation most affects The penfive fecrecy of defert cell,

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Far from the chearful haunt of men and herds,
And fits as fafe as in a fenate house;
For who would rob a hermit of his weeds, 390
His few books, or his beads, or maple dish,
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 out-law's den,
And tell me it is safe, as bid me hope
Danger will wink on opportunity,
And let a fingle helpless maiden pafs
Uninjur'd in this wild furrounding wafte.
Of night, or loneliness it recks me not;

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I fear the dread events that dog them both, 405 Left fome ill-greeting touch attempt the perfon

Of our unowned Sifter.

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I BRO. I do not, Brother, Infer, as if I thought my Sifter'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 fquint fufpicion. My Sifter is not fo defenfelefs left As you imagin; fhe' has a hidden strength 415 Which you remember not.

2 BRO. What hidden strength, Unless the ftrength of Heav'n, if you mean that? I BRO. I mean that too, but yet a hidden

ftrength,

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Which if Heav'n gave it, may be term'd her own:
'Tis chastity, my Brother, chastity:
She that has that, is clad in complete steel,
And like a quiver'd nymph with arrows keen
May trace huge forefts, and unharbour'd heaths,
Ir famous hills, and fandy perilous wilds,
Where, through the facred rays of chastity, 415
No favage fierce, bandite, or mountaneer
Will dare to foil her virgin purity:
Yea there, where very defolation dwells,
By grots, and caverns fhagg'd with horrid fhades,
She may pafs on with unblench'd majesty,
Be it not done in pride, or in prefumption.
Some fay no evil thing that walks by night,
In fog, or fire, by lake, or mootish fen,

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Blue meagre hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost,
That breaks his magic chains at Curfeu time, 435
No goblin, or fwart faery of the mine,
Hath hurtful power o'er true virginity.
Do ye believe me yet, or fhall I call
Antiquity from the old fchools of Greece
To teftify the arms of Chaflity?

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Hence had the huntress Dian her dread bow,
Fair filver-fhafted queen, for ever chaste,
Wherewith the tam'd the brinded lioncfs
And spotted mountain pard, but fet at nought
The frivolous bolt of Cupid; Gods and men 445
Fear'd her ftern frown, and the was queen o'th'
woods.

What was that foaky-headed Gorgon fhield,
That wife Minerva wore, unconquer'd virgin,
Wherewith the freez'd her foes to congeal'd stone,
But rigid looks of chafte aufterity,
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And noble grace that dafh'd brute violence
With fudden adoration, and blank awe?
So dear to Heav'n is faintly chastity,
That when a foul is found fincerely fo,
A thousand liveried Angels lacky her,
Driving far off each thing of fin and guilt,
And in clear dream, and folemn vision,
Tell her of things that no grofs ear can hear,
Till oft converfe with heav'nly habitants
Begin to caft a beam on th' outward shape, 460
The unpolluted temple of the mind,

And turns it by degrees to the foul's effence,
Till all be made immortal: but when luft,

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By unchafte looks, loose gestures, and foul talk,

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Slipt from the fold, or young kid loft his dam,
Or fraggling wether the pent flock forfook?
How couldft thou find this dark fequefter d nook?
SPI. O my lov'd mafter's heir, and his next joy,
I came not here on fuch a trivial toy

As a tray'd ewe, or to pursue the stealth
Of pilfering wolf; not all the fleecy wealth 504
That doth enrich thefe downs, is worth a thought
To this my errand, and the care it brought.
But, O my virgin Lady, where is the?
How chance fhe is not in your company?

I BRO. To tell thee fadly, Shepherd, without

blame,

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Or our neglect, we loft her as we came.
SPI. Ay me unhappy! then my fears are true.
I BRO. What fears, good Thyrfis? Pr'ythee
briefly fhew.

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But most by leud and lavish act of fin, Lets in defilement to the inward parts,

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The foul grows clotted by contagion, Imbodies, and imbrutes, till fhe quite lofe The divine property of her first being.

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Such are thofe thick and gloomy fhadows damp
Oft feen in charnel vaults, and fepulchers,
Lingering, and fitting by a new-made grave,
As loath to leave the body that it lov'd,
And link'd itself by carnal fenfuality

To a degenerate and degraded ftate.

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2 BRO. How charming is divine philofophy!

SPI. I'll tell you; 'tis not vain or fabulous, (Though fo efteem'd by fhallow ignorance) What the fage poets, taught by th' heav'nly Mufe, Story'd of old in high immortal verse, Of dire chimera's and inchanted iles, And rifted rocks whofe entrance leads to Hell; For fuch there be, but unbelief is blind. Within the navel of this hideous wood, Immur'd in cyprefs fhades, a forcerer dwells, Of Bacchus and of Circe born, great Comus, Deep kill'd in all his mother's witcheries, And here to every thirsty wanderer By fly enticement gives his baneful cup, With many murmurs mix'd, whofe pleasing poifon The vifage quite transforms of him that drinks, And the inglorious likeness of a heast Fixes instead, unmolding reafon's mintage Character'd in the face; this have I learnt Tending my flocks hard by i'th' hilly crofts, That brow this bottom glade, whence night by

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Not harsh, and crabbed, as duil fools fuppofe,
But mufical as is Apollo's lute,

And a perpetual feaft of nectar'd fweets,
Where no crude furfeit reigns.

1 BRO. Lift, lift, 1 hear

Some far off hallow break the filent air.

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2 BRO. Methought fo too; what should it be? I BRO. For certain

Either fome one like us night-founder'd here,
Or elfe fome neighbour wood-man, or, at worst,
Some roving robber calling to his fellows. 485

2 BRO. Heav'n keep my Sifter! Again, again, and near;

Beft draw, and ftand upon our guard.

1 BRO. I'll hallow;

If he be friendly, he comes well; if not,
Defense is a good caufe, and Heav'n be for us.

The attendant SPIRIT babited like a shepherd. That hallow I fhould know, what are you? fpeak; Come not too near, you fall on iron ftakes elfe.

night

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He and his monftrous rout are heard to howl
Like ftabled wolves, or tigers at their prey,
Doing abhorred rites to Hecate
In their obfcured haunts of inmoft bowers.
Yet have they many baits, and guileful fpells,
To' inveigle and invite th' unwary fenfe
Of them that pafs unweeting by the way.
This evening late, by then the chewing flocks 540
Had ta'en their fupper on the favory herb
Of knot-grafs dew-befprent, and were in fold,
I fat me down to watch upon a bank
With ivy canopied, and interwove
With flaunting honey-fuckle, and began,
Wrapt in a pleafing fit of melancholy,
To meditate my rural minitrelfy,
Till fancy had her fill, but ere a clofe
The wonted roar was up amidit the woods,

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