His orient liquor in a crystal glass,

65

To quench the drouth of Phoebus; which as they

taste,

70

(For most do taste through fond intemp❜rate thirst)
Soon as the potion works, their human count'nance,
Th' express resemblance of the Gods, is chang'd
Into some brutish form of wolf, or bear,
Or ounce, or tiger, hog, or bearded goat,
All other parts remaining as they were;
And they, so perfect is their misery,
Not once perceive their foul disfigurement,

But boast themselves more comely than before, 75
And all their friends and native home forget,
To roll with pleasure in a sensual sty.
Therefore, when any favour'd of high Jove
Chances to pass through this adventurous glade,
Swift as the sparkle of a glancing star

I shoot from heav'n, to give him safe convoy,
As now I do: But first I must put off
These my sky robes spun out of Iris' woof,
And take the weeds and likeness of a swain,
That to the service of this house belongs,

80

85

Who with his soft pipe, and smooth-dittied song,
Well knows to still the wild winds when they roar,
And hush the waving woods; nor of less faith,
And in this office of his mountain watch,
Likeliest, and nearest to the present aid
Of this occasion. But I hear the tread
Of hateful steps; I must be viewless now.

90

COMUS enters with a charming rod in one hand, his glass in the other; with him a rout of monsters, headed like sundry sorts of wild beasts, but otherwise like men and women, their apparel glistering; they come in making a riotous and unruly noise, with torches in their hands.

COMUS. The star that bids the shepherd fold, Now the top of heaven doth hold;

And the gilded car of day

95

His glowing axle doth allay
In the steep Atlantic stream;

And the slope sun his upward beam
Shoots against the dusky pole,
Pacing toward the other goal
Of his chamber in the east.
Meanwhile welcome Joy, and Feast,
Midnight Shout and Revelry,
Tipsy Dance and Jollity.

Braid your locks with rosy twine,
Dropping odours, dropping wine.
Rigour now is gone to bed,
And Advice with scrupulous head,
Strict Age, and sour Severity,
With their grave saws in slumber lie.
We that are of purer fire

93 star] Chapman's Homer's Hymn to Pan. calls to fold the flocks of men.'

100

105

110

"When Hesperus

97 Atlantic] Beaumont's Pysche, c. iii. s. xi. p. 27.

108 Advice] The Cambridge MS. And quick Law,' which Warburton prefers.

Imitate the starry quire,

Who in their nightly watchful spheres,

Lead in swift round the months and years.

The sounds and seas, with all their finny drove, 115 Now to the moon in wavering morrice move;

And on the tawny sands and shelves

Trip the pert fairies and the dapper elves.
By dimpled brook, and fountain brim,

The wood-nymphs deck'd with daisies trim,
Their merry wakes and pastimes keep;
What hath night to do with sleep?

120

Night hath better sweets to prove,

Venus now wakes, and wakens Love.

Come, let us our rights begin,

125

'Tis only day-light that makes sin,

Which these dun shades will ne'er report.
Hail Goddess of nocturnal sport,

Dark-veil'd Cotytto! t' whom the secret flame
Of midnight torches burns; mysterious dame,
That ne'er art call'd, but when the dragon womb
Of Stygian darkness spets her thickest gloom,
And makes one blot of all the air;

Stay thy cloudy ebon chair,

Wherein thou rid'st with Hecat', and befriend
Us thy vow'd priests, till utmost end

Donne's Poems, p. 121. And see Seven Champions of Christendom, p. 55. 4to. 1638. 125 rights] 'Rites.' Fenton, Newton, Warton, (ed. 1). 132 spets] Spits.' Fenton, Tickell, Newton, wrongly.

130

135

Of all thy dues be done, and none left out,

Ere the babbling eastern scout,

The nice morn, on th' Indian steep

From her cabin'd loophole peep,

And to the tell-tale sun descry

Our conceal'd solemnity.

Come, knit hands, and beat the ground
In a light fantastic round.

140

THE MEASURE.

145

Break off, break off, I feel the different pace
Of some chaste footing near about this ground.
Run to your shrouds, within these brakes and trees;
Our number may affright: Some virgin sure
(For so I can distinguish by mine art)

Benighted in these woods. Now to my charms, 150
And to my wily trains; I shall ere long
Be well-stock'd with as fair a herd as graz'd
About my mother Circe. Thus I hurl
My dazzling spells into the spungy air,
Of power to cheat the eye with blear illusion,
And give it false presentments, lest the place

139 steep]

'Aurora rose with ruddy face upon the Indian Heaven.' Sylvest. Du Bartas, p. 392.

140 loophole] See note on Lallah Rookh, p. 393, ed. 8vo.

155

154 spungy] G. Peele's Works, by Dyce, ii. 262. ed. 1829. 'Not clouds cast from this spungie element.' This word is used in N. Richards's Messalina, Sig. B 7, 'shall squeeze their spungie virtue into vice.'

And my quaint habits breed astonishment,
And put the damsel to suspicious flight,
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 reasons not unplausible,

Wind me into the easy-hearted man,

And hug him into snares.

When once her eye

Hath met the virtue of this magic dust,

I shall appear some harmless villager,
Whom thrift keeps up about his country gear.
But here she comes; I fairly step aside,
And hearken, if I may, her business here.

160

165

THE LADY enters.

This way the noise was, if mine ear be true,
My best guide now; methought it was the sound
Of riot and ill-manag'd merriment,

Such as the jocund flute, or gamesome pipe
Stirs up among the loose unletter'd hinds,

161 glozing] See Sylvester's Du Bartas, p. 92.

163 Wind] Win. Tickell, Fenton.

170

165 magic dust] This referred to ver. 154, 'my dazzling spells,' which originally stood powdered spells.'

166 I shall appear] The ed. of 1673,

'I shall appear some harmless villager,

And hearken, if I may, her business here.

But here she comes, I fairly step aside.'

Where, besides the transposition, the line, 'Whom thrift,' &c. is omitted.

Warton.

168 fairly] softly. Hurd.