Why fhould you be fo cruel to yourself,

676

With that fame vaunted name Virginity.
Beauty is Nature's coin, muft not be horded,
But must be current, and the good thereof
Confifts in mutual and partaken blifs,
Unfavory in th' enjoyment of itself;
If you let flip time, like a neglected rose

740

By which all mortal frailty must fubfift,
Refreshment after toil, eafe after pain,
That have been tir'd all day without repaft,
And timely reft have wanted; but, fair Virgin,
This will reftore all foon.

690

LA. 'Twill not, false traitor, Twill not reftore the truth and honesty That thou haft banish'd from thy tongue with lies. Was this the cottage, and the fafe abode Thou toldft me of? What grim afpec&s are these, Thefe ugly-headed monsters? Mercy guard me! Hence with thy brew'd inchantments, foul de

ceiver;

696

700

Haft thou betray'd my credulous innocence With vifor'd falfhood, and base forgery? And would'st thou feck again to trap me here With liquerith baits fit to infiare a brute? Were it a draft for Juno when the banquets, would not tafte thy treafonous offer; none But fuch as are good men can give good things, And that which is not good, is not delicious Ida well-govern'd and wife appetite. 705 CoM. O foolishnels of men! that lend their cars To thote budge doctors of the Stoic fur, And fetch their precepts from the Cynic tub, rafing the lean and fallow Abftinence. Wherefore did Nature pour her bounties forth, With fuch a full and unwithdrawing hand, overing the earth with odors, fruits, and flocks, Thronging the feas with fpawn innumerable, But all to pleafe, and fate the curious tafte? And fet to work millions of fpinning worms, 715 That in their green fhops weave the fmooth

hair'd filk

711

To deck her fons, and, that no corner might Be vacant of her plenty, in her own loins the hutcht th' all-worthipt ore, and precious gems To ftore her children with: if all the world 720 should in a pet of temperance feed on pulfe, Drink the clear ftream, and nothing wear but

frieze,

T'h' all-giver would be' unthank'd, would be unprais'd, VOL. II.

745

It withers on the ftalk with languifh'd head.
Beauty is nature's brag, and must be shown
In courts, in feafts, in high folemnities,
Where most may wonder at the workmanship;
It is for homely features to keep home,
They had their name thence; coarfe complexions
And cheeks of forry grain will ferve to ply
The fampler, and to tease the hufwife's wool.
What need a vermeil-tinctur'd lip for that,
Love-darting eyes, or treffes like the morn?
There was another meaning in thefe gifts,
Think what, and be advis'd, you are but young

LA. I had not thought to have unlockt my lips In this unhallow'd air, but that this jugler Would think to charm my judgment, as mine eyes, Obtruding falfe rules prankt in reafon's garb. I hate when vice can bolt her arguments, And virtue has no tongue to check her pride. Impoftor, do not charge most innocent Nature, As if the would her children fhould be riotous With her abundance; fhe, good caterefs, Means her provifion only to the good, That live according to her sober laws, And holy dictate of fpare temperance: If every juft man, that now pines with want, Had but a moderate and befeeming share Of that which lewdly-pamper'd luxury Now heaps upon fome few with vaft excefs, Nature's full bleflings would be well difpens'd In unfuperfluous even proportion, And the no whit incumber'd with her store, And then the giver would be better thank'd, 775 His praife due paid; for fwinifh gluttony Ne'er looks to Heav'n amidft his gorgeous feaft,

But with befotted bafe ingratitude

That dumb things would be mov'd to fympathize,

And the brute earth would lend her nerves, and shake,

Till all thy magic ftructures rear'd to high,
Were fhatter'd into heaps o'er thy falfe head.

Coм. She fables not, I feel that I do fear 800
Her words fet off by fome fuperior power;
And though not mortal, yet a cold fhuddering
dew

Dips me all o'er, as when the wrath of Jove
Speaks thunder, and the chains of Erebus

To fome of Saturn's crew. I muft diffemble,

805

O ye miftook, ye fhould have fnatcht his wand
And bound him faft; without his rod revers'd,
And backward mutters of diffevering power,
We cannot free the Lady that fits here
In ftony fetters fix'd, and motionless:
Yet stay, be not disturb'd; now I bethink me,
Some other means I have which may be us'd, 821
Which once of Melibus old I learnt,
The foothest shepherd that e'er pip'd on plains.
There is a gentle nymph not far from hence,
That with moift curb fways the fmooth Severn
ftream,

Held up their pearled wrifts and took her in, Bearing her strait to aged Nereus' hall, 835 Who, piteous of her woes, rear'd her lank head,

And gave her to his daughters to imbathe
In nectar'd lavers ftrow'd with afphodil,
And through the porch and inlet of each fenfe
Dropt in ambrofial oils till the reviv'd,
840
And underwent a quick immortal change,
Made Goddefs of the river; ftill the retains
Her maiden gentleness, and oft at eve
Vifits the herds along the twilight meadows,
Helping all urchin blafts, and ill luck figns 845
That the fhrewd medling elfe delights to make,
Which the with precious vial'd liquors heaks.
For which the shepherds at their festivals
Carol her goodness loud in ruftic lays,
And throw fweet garland wreaths into her
stream

Liften and appear to us

In name of great Oceanus,

By th' earth-fhaking Neptune's mace,
And Tethys' grave majestic pace,
By hoary Nereus' wrinkled look,
And the Carpathian wifard's hook,
By fcaly Triton's winding shell,
And old footh-faying Glaucus' fpell,
By Leucothea's lovely hands,
And her fon that rules the strands,
By Thetis' tinfel flipper'd feet,
And the fongs of Syrens fweet,
By dead Parthenope's dear tomb,
And fair Ligea's golden comb,
Wherewith the fits on diamond rocks,
Sleeking her foft alluring locks,

87

880

825

By all the nymphs that nightly dance Upon thy ftreams with wily glance,

Sabrina is her name, a virgin pure;
Whilome she was the daughter of Locrine,
That had the feepter from his father Brute.
She, guiltlefs damfel, flying the mad pursuit
Of her enraged stepdame Guendolen,
Commended her fair innocence to the flood,
That stay'd her flight with his crofs-flowing
courfe.

The water nymphs that in the bottom play'd,

And bridle in thy headlong wave,

Till thou our fummons anfwer'd have.

Listen and fave.

By the rushy-fringed bank,

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

Thick fet with agat, and the azurn fheen
Of turkis blue, and emrald green,
That in the channel strays;
Whilft from off the waters flect
Thus I fet my printless feet,
O'er the cowflip's velvet head,
That bends not as I tread;

Gentle Swain, at thy request
I am here.

All the fwains that near abide, With jigs and rural dance resort; We shall catch them at their sport, And our fudden coming there

895

Will double all their mirth and chear; Come let us hafte, the stars grow high, But night fits monarch yet in the mid sky,

.900

950

955

The Scene changes, prefenting Ludlow town and the Prefident's cafile; then come in country dancers, after them the attendant SPIRIT, with the two BROTHERS and the Lapy.

Till we come to holier ground;

fhall be your faithful guide

Through this gloomy covert wide,
Aud not many furlongs thence
Is your Father's refidence,
Where this night are met in state
Many a friend to gratulate

(Lift mortals, if your ears be true) Beds of hyacinth and rofes,

Where young Adonis oft reposes,