Which erring men call Chance, this I hold firm,
Virtue may be assail'd, but never hurt,
Surpriz'd by unjust force, but not inthrall'd: 590
Yea even that which Mischief meant most harm,
Shall in the happy trial prove most glory:
But evil on itself shall back recoil,
And mix no more with goodness, when at last
Gather'd like scum, and settled to itself,
It shall be in eternal restless change
Self-fed, and self-consum'd: if this fail,
The pillar'd firmament is rottenness,
And earth's base built on stubble. But come let's
Against th' opposing will and arm of Heav'n 600
May never this just sword be lifted up;
But for that damn'd Magician, let him be girt
With all the grisly legions that troop
Under the sooty flag of Acheron,
Harpyes and Hydras, or all the monstrous forms
'Twixt Africa and Ind, I'll find him out,
And force him to restore his purchase back,
Or drag him by the curls to a foul death,
Curs'd as his life.
SPI. Alas! good ventrous Youth,
I love thy courage yet, and bold emprize; 610
But here thy sword can do thee little stead;
Far other arms, and other weapons must
Be those that quell the might of hellish charms:
He with his bare wand can unthred thy joints,
And crumble all thy sinews.
E. BRO- Why, prethee, Shepherd,
How durst shou then thyself approach so near,
As to make this relation ?
SPI. Care and utmost shifts
How to secure the Lady from surprisal,
Brought to my mind a certain shepherd lad,
Of small regard to see to, yet well skill'd
In every virtuous plant and healing herb,
That spreads her verdant leaf to th' morning ray
He lov'd me well, and oft would beg me sing,
Which when I did, he on the tender grass
Would sit, and hearken ev'n to extasy,
And in requital ope his leathern scrip,
And show me simples of a thousand names,
Telling their strange and vigorous faculties:
Among the rest a small unsightly root,
But of divine effect, he cull'd me out:
The leaf was darkish, and had prickles on it,
But in another country, as he said,
Bore a bright golden flower, but not in this soil:
Unknown, and like esteem'd, and the dull swain
Treads on it daily with his clouted shoon;
And yet more med'cinal is it than that moly
That Hermes once to wise Ulysses gave;
He call'd it Hæmony, and gave it me,
And bade me keep it as of sovran use
'Gainst all inchantments, mildew, blast, or damp, Or ghastly furies' apparition.
I purs'd it up, but little reck'ning made,
Till now that this extremity compell'd:
I knew the foul enchanter though disguis'd
Enter'd the very lime-twigs of his spells,
And yet came off: if you have this about you,
(As I will give you when we go) you may
Boldly assault the Necromancer's hall;
Where if he be, with dauntless hardihood,
And brandish'd blade rush on him, break his glass,
And shed the luscious liquor on the ground,
But seize his wand; though he and his curs'd crew
Fierce sign of battel make, and menace high,
Or like the sons of Vulcan vomit smoke,
Yet will they soon retire, if he but shrink.
E. BRO. Thyrsis, lead on a pace, I'll follow thee,
And some good angel bear a shield before us.
The scene changes to a stately palace, set out with all manner of deliciousness: soft music, tables spread with all dainties. Comus appears with his rabble, and the Lady set in an inchanted chair, to whom he offers his glass, and which she puts by, and goes about to rise.
COм. Nay, lady sit; if I but wave this wand, Your nerves are all chain'd up in alabaster, And you a statue, or as Daphne was Root-bound, that fled Apollo.
Thou canst not touch the freedom of my mind With all thy charms, although this corporal rind Thou hast immanacl'd, while Heav'n sees good.
COM. Why are you vext, lady? why do you frown?
Here dwell no frowns, nor anger; from these gates
Sorrow flies far: see here be all the pleasures
That Fancy can beget on youthful thoughts, 669
When the fresh blood grows lively, and returns
Brisk as the April buds in primrose-season.
And first behold this cordial julep here,
That flames and dances in his crystal bounds,
With spirits of balm, and fragrant syrups mix'd,
Not that Nepenthes, which the wife of Thone
In Egypt gave to Jove-born Helena,
Is of such power to stir up joy as this,
To life so friendly, or so cool to thirst.
Why should you be so cruel to yourself,
And to those dainty limbs which nature lent 680
For gentle usage, and soft delicacy?
you invert the covenants of her trust,
And harshly deal like an ill borrower
With that which you receiv'd on other terms,
Scorning the unexempt condition
By which all mortal frailty must subsist,
Refreshment after toil, ease after pain,
That have been tir'd all day without repast,
And timely rest have wanted; but fair Virgin,
This will restore all soon.
LA. 'Twill not, false traitor,
That thou hast banish'd from thy tongue with lies.
"Twill not restore the truth and honesty
Was this the cottage, and the safe abode
Thou toldst me of? What grim aspects are these,
These ugly-headed monsters? Mercy guard me!
Hence with thy brew'dinchantments, foul deceiver;
Hast thou betray'd my credulous innocence
With visor'd falshood, and base forgery?
And would'st thou seek again to trap me here
With liquorish baits fit to insnare a brute? 700
Were it a draft to Juno when she banquets,
I would not taste thy treasonous offer; none
But such as are good men can give good things,
And that which is not good is not delicious
To a well govern'd and wise appetite.
COм. O foolishness of men! that lend their ears
To those budge doctors of the Stoic fur,
And fetch their precepts from the Cynic tub,
Praising the lean and sallow abstinence.
Wherefore did Nature pour her bounties forth 710
With such a full and unwithdrawing hand,
Covering the earth with odors, fruits, and flocks,
Thronging the seas with spawn innumerable,
But all to please, and sate the curious taste?
And set to work millions of spinning worms,
That in their green shops weave the smooth-hair'd
To deck her sons, and that no corners might [silk
Be vacant of her plenty, in her loins
She hutcht th' all-worshipt ore, and precious gems To store her children with: if all the world 720 Should in a pet of temp'rance feed on pulse, Drink the clear stream, and nothing wear but frieze, Th' All-giver would be' unthank'd, would be unprais'd
Not half his riches known, and yet despis'd,
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