Shall be unsaid for me: against the threats

Of malice or of forcery, or that power

Which erring men call Chance, this I hold firm,
Virtue may be affail'd, but never hurt,

Surpris'd by unjust force, but not inthrall'd; 595
Yea even that which mischief meant most harm,
Shall in the happy trial prove most glory:
But evil on itself fhall 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 felf-confum'd: if this fail,
The pillar'd firmament is rottenness,

600

And earth's base built on stubble. But come let's on.
Against th' opposing will and arm of Heaven 605
May never this just sword be lifted up;

But for that damn'd magician, let him be girt
With all the grifly legions that troop

Under the footy flag of Acheron,

609

Harpyes and Hydra's, or all the monftrous 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.

Spir. Alas! good ventrous Youth,

I love thy courage yet, and bold emprise;
But here thy fword can do thee little ftead;
Far other arms, and other weapons must

615

Be

Be those that quell the might of hellish charms: He with his bare wand can unthred thy joints, 620 And crumble all thy finews.

Eld. Bro. Why prethee, Shepherd,

How durft thou then thyself approach so near,
As to make this relation?

Spir. Care and utmost shifts

625

How to fecure the Lady from surprisal,
Brought to my mind a certain fhepherd 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 fing, 631
Which when I did, he on the tender grass
Would fit, and hearken ev'n to exstasy,

And in requital ope his leathern scrip,

And show me simples of a thousand names, 635
Telling their strange and vigorous faculties:
Amongst the rest a small unfightly 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,

640

Bore a bright golden flow'r, but not in this foil:
Unknown, and like esteem'd, and the dull fwain
Treads on it daily with his clouted fhoon;
And yet more med'cinal is it than that Moly
That Hermes once to wife Ulyffes gave;

645

He call'd it Hæmony, and gave it me,

And

And bad me keep it as of sovran use

'Gainst all inchantments, mildew, blast, or damp, Or ghaftly furies apparition.

I purs'd it up, but little reck'ning made,
Till now that this extremity compell'd:
But now I find it true; for by this means.
I knew the foul inchanter though disguis'd,
Enter'd the very lime-twigs of his fpells,

650

And yet came off: if you have this about you, 655 (As I will give you when we go) you may Boldly affault 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, 660
But feise his wand; though he and his curs'd crew
Fierce fign of battel make, and menace high,
Or like the fons of Vulcan vomit smoke,
Yet will they foon retire, if he but shrink.
Eld. Bro. Thyrfis, lead on apace, I'll follow thee, 665
And fome good Angel bear a shield before us.
The Scene changes to a stately palace, fet out with all man-

ner of delicioufnefs: foft mufic, tables fpread with all dainties. Comus appears with his rabble, and the Lady fet in an inchanted chair, to whom he offers his glass, which he puts by, and goes about to rife.

Com. Nay, Lady, fit; 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.

Lady. Fool, do not boaft,

670

Thou canst not touch the freedom of my mind With all thy charms, although this corporal rind Thou haft immanacl'd, while Heav'n fees good.

680

Com. Why are you vext, Lady? why do you frown? Here dwells no frowns, nor anger; from these gates Sorrow flies far: See here be all the pleasures That fancy can beget on youthful thoughts, When the fresh blood grows lively, and returns Brisk as the April buds in primrose-season. And firft 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 fuch pow'r to ftir up joy as this, To life fo friendly, or fo cool to thirst. Why should you be fo cruel to yourself, And to those dainty limbs which Nature lent For gentle usage, and foft delicacy?

685

690

And timely rest have wanted; but fair Virgin,
This will restore all foon.

Lady. Twill not, false traitor,

'Twill not restore the truth and honesty

700

That thou haft banish'd from thy tongue with lies.
Was this the cottage, and the safe abode
Thou toldst me of? What grim aspects are these,
These ugly-headed monsters? Mercy guard me! 705
Hence with thy brew'd inchantments, foul deceiver;
Haft thou betray'd my credulous innocence
With vifor'd falfhood, and base forgery?
And would'st thou seek again to trap me here
With liquorish baits fit to insnare a brute?
Were it a draft for Juno when she banquets,
I would not tafte thy treasonous offer; none
But fuch as are good men can give good things,
And that which is not good, is not delicious
To a well-govern'd and wife appetite.

710

715

Com. 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 fallow Abftinence.
Wherefore did Nature pour her bounties forth, 720
With fuch a full and unwithdrawing hand,
Covering the earth with odors, fruits, and flocks,
Thronging the feas with spawn innumerable,
But all to please, and fate the curious taste?
And set to work millions of spinning worms, 725
Hh 2
That