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    The Complete Poems (Penguin Classics)

    Page 9
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      No goblin, or swart faery of the mine,

      Hath hurtful power o’er true virginity.

      Do ye believe me yet, or shall I call

      Antiquity from the old schools of Greece

      440 To testify the arms of chastity?

      Hence had the huntress Dian her dread bow,

      Fair silver-shafted queen for ever chaste,

      Wherewith she tamed the brinded lioness

      And spotted mountain pard, but set at nought

      445 The frivolous bolt of Cupid; gods and men

      Feared her stern frown, and she was queen o’ th’ woods.

      What was that snaky-headed Gorgon shield

      That wise Minerva wore, unconquered virgin,

      Wherewith she freezed her foes to congealed stone?

      450 But rigid looks of chaste austerity,

      And noble grace that dashed brute violence

      With sudden adoration, and blank awe.

      So dear to Heav’n is saintly chastity,

      That when a soul is found sincerely so,

      455 A thousand liveried angels lackey her,

      Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt,

      And in clear dream, and solemn visïon

      Tell her of things that no gross ear can hear,

      Till oft converse with Heav’nly habitants

      460 Begin to cast a beam on th’ outward shape,

      The unpolluted temple of the mind,

      And turns it by degrees to the soul’s essence,

      Till all be made immortal: but when lust

      By unchaste looks, loose gestures, and foul talk,

      465 But most by lewd and lavish act of sin,

      Lets in defilement to the inward parts,

      The soul grows clotted by contagÏon,

      Embodies, and imbrutes, till she quite lose

      The divine property of her first being.

      470 Such are those thick and gloomy shadows damp

      Oft seen in charnel vaults, and sepulchres

      Lingering, and sitting by a new-made grave,

      As loath to leave the body that it loved,

      And linked itself by carnal sensualty

      475 To a degenerate and degraded state.

      Second Brother. How charming is divine philosophy!

      Not harsh, and crabbed as dull fools suppose,

      But musical as is Apollo’s lute,

      And a perpetual feast of nectared sweets,

      Where no crude surfeit reigns.

      480 Elder Brother. List, list, I hear

      Some far-off hallo break the silent air.

      Second Brother. Methought so too; what should it be?

      Elder Brother. For certain

      Either some one like us night-foundered here,

      Or else some neighbour woodman, or at worst,

      485 Some roving robber calling to his fellows.

      Second Brother. Heav’n keep my sister. Again, again, and

      near.

      Best draw, and stand upon our guard.

      Elder Brother. I’ll hallo;

      If he be friendly he comes well, if not,

      Defence is a good cause, and Heav’n be for us.

      The Attendant Spirit habited like a shepherd

      490 That hallo I should know, what are you? Speak;

      Come not too near, you fall on iron stakes else.

      Spirit. What voice is that, my young lord? Speak again.

      Second Brother. O brother, ‘tis my father’s shepherd sure.

      Elder Brother. Thyrsis? Whose artful strains have oft

      delayed

      495 The huddling brook to hear his madrigal,

      And sweetened every muskrose of the dale,

      How cam’st thou here good swain? Hath any ram

      Slipped from the fold, or young kid lost his dam,

      Or straggling wether the penned flock forsook?

      500 How couldst thou find this dark sequestered nook?

      Spirit. O my loved master’s heir, and his next joy,

      I came not here on such a trivial toy

      As a strayed ewe, or to pursue the stealth

      Of pilfering wolf; not all the fleecy wealth

      505 That doth enrich these downs, is worth a thought

      To this my errand, and the care it brought.

      But O my virgin Lady, where is she?

      How chance she is not in your company?

      Elder Brother. To tell thee sadly shepherd, without blame,

      510 Or our neglect, we lost her as we came.

      Spirit. Ay me unhappy then my fears are true.

      Elder Brother. What fears good Thyrsis? Prithee briefly show.

      Spirit. I’ll tell ye. ’Tis not vain or fabulous

      (Though so esteemed by shallow ignorance)

      515 What the sage poets, taught by th’ Heavenly Muse,

      Storied of old in high immortal verse

      Of dire Chimeras and enchanted isles,

      And rifted rocks whose entrance leads to Hell,

      For such there be, but unbelief is blind.

      520 Within the navel of this hideous wood,

      Immured in cypress shades a sorcerer dwells

      Of Bacchus and of Circe born, great Comus,

      Deep skilled in all his mother’s witcheries,

      And here to every thirsty wanderer,

      525 By sly enticement gives his baneful cup,

      With many murmurs mixed, whose pleasing poison

      The visage quite transforms of him that drinks,

      And the inglorious likeness of a beast

      Fixes instead, unmoulding reason’s mintage

      530 Charáctered in the face; this have I learnt

      Tending my flocks hard by i’ th’ hilly crofts

      That brow this bottom glade, whence night by night

      He and his monstrous rout are heard to howl

      Like stabled wolves, or tigers at their prey,

      535 Doing abhorrèd rites to Hecate

      In their obscurèd haunts of inmost bow’rs.

      Yet have they many baits, and guileful spells

      T’ inveigle and invite th’ unwary sense

      Of them that pass unweeting by the way.

      540 This evening late, by then the chewing flocks

      Had ta’en their supper on the savoury herb

      Of knot-grass dew-besprent, and were in fold,

      I sat me down to watch upon a bank

      With ivy canopied, and interwove

      545 With flaunting honeysuckle, and began

      Wrapped in a pleasing fit of melancholy

      To meditate my rural minstrelsy

      Till fancy had her fill; but ere a close

      The wonted roar was up amidst the woods,

      550 And filled the air with barbarous dissonance,

      At which I ceased, and listened them a while,

      Till an unusual stop of sudden silence

      Gave respite to the drowsy-frighted steeds

      That draw the litter of close-curtained Sleep.

      555 At last a soft and solemn breathing sound

      Rose like a steam of rich distilled perfumes,

      And stole upon the air, that even Silence

      Was took ere she was ware, and wished she might

      Deny her nature, and be never more

      560 Still to be so displaced. I was all ear,

      And took in strains that might create a soul

      Under the ribs of Death. But O ere long

      Too well I did perceive it was the voice

      Of my most honoured Lady, your dear sister.

      565 Amazed I stood, harrowed with grief and fear,

      And O poor hapless nightingale thought I,

      How sweet thou sing’st, how near the deadly snare!

      Then down the lawns I ran with headlong haste

      Through paths, and turnings often trod by day,

      570 Till guided by mine ear I found the place

      Where that damned wizard hid in sly disguise

      (For so by certain signs I knew) had met

      Already, ere
    my best speed could prevent,

      The aidless innocent Lady his wished prey,

      575 Who gently asked if he had seen such two,

      Supposing him some neighbour villager;

      Longer I durst not stay, but soon I guessed

      Ye were the two she meant; with that I sprung

      Into swift flight, till I had found you here,

      But further know I not.

      580 Second Brother. O night and shades,

      How are ye joined with Hell in triple knot

      Against th’ unarmèd weakness of one virgin

      Alone, and helpless! Is this the confidence

      You gave me brother?

      Elder Brother. Yes, and keep it still,

      585 Lean on it safely; not a period

      Shall be unsaid for me: against the threats

      Of malice or of sorcery, or that power

      Which erring men call Chance, this I hold firm,

      Virtue may be assailed, but never hurt,

      590 Surprised by unjust force, but not enthralled,

      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

      595 Gathered like scum, and settled to itself

      It shall be in eternal restless change

      Self-fed, and self-consumed. If this fail,

      The pillared firmament is rottenness,

      And earth’s base built on stubble. But come let’s on.

      600 Against th’ opposing will and arm of Heav’n

      May never this just sword be lifted up.

      But for that damned magician, let him be girt

      With all the grisly legïons that troop

      Under the sooty flag of Acheron,

      605 Harpies 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,

      Cursed as his life.

      Spirit. Alas good vent’rous youth,

      610 I love thy courage yet, and bold emprise,

      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 unthread thy joints,

      And crumble all thy sinews.

      615 Elder Brother. Why prithee shepherd

      How durst thou then thyself approach so near

      As to make this relation?

      Spirit. Care and utmost shifts

      How to secure the Lady from surprisal

      Brought to my mind a certain shepherd lad

      620 Of small regard to see to, yet well skilled

      In every virtuous plant and healing herb

      That spreads her verdant leaf to the morning ray;

      He loved me well, and oft would beg me sing,

      Which when I did, he on the tender grass

      625 Would sit, and hearken even to ecstasy,

      And in requital ope his leathern scrip,

      And show me simples of a thousand names

      Telling their strange and vigorous faculties;

      Amongst the rest a small unsightly root,

      630 But of divine effect, he culled 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 esteemed, and the dull swain

      635 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 called it haemony, and gave it me,

      And bade me keep it as of sov’reign use

      640 ’Gainst all enchantments, mildew blast, or damp

      Or ghastly Furies’ apparitïon;

      I pursed it up, but little reck’ning made

      Till now that this extremity compelled,

      But now I find it true; for by this means

      645 I knew the foul enchanter though disguised,

      Entered 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;

      650 Where if he be, with dauntless hardihood,

      And brandished blade rush on him, break his glass,

      And shed the luscious liquor on the ground,

      But seize his wand. Though he and his cursed crew

      Fierce sign of battle make, and menace high,

      655 Or like the sons of Vulcan vomit smoke,

      Yet will they soon retire, if he but shrink.

      Elder Brother. Thyrsis lead on apace, 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 enchanted chair, to whom he offers his glass, which she puts by, and goes about to rise.

      Comus. Nay Lady sit; if I but wave this wand,

      660 Your nerves are all chained up in alabaster,

      And you a statue; or as Daphne was

      Root–bound, that fled Apollo.

      Lady. Fool do not boast,

      Thou canst not touch the freedom of my mind

      With all thy charms, although this corporal rind

      665 Thou hast immanacled, while Heav’n sees good.

      Comus. Why are you vexed 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

      670 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 mixed.

      675 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,

      680 And to those dainty limbs which Nature lent

      For gentle usage, and soft delicacy?

      But you invert the cov’nants of her trust,

      And harshly deal like an ill borrower

      With that which you received on other terms,

      685 Scorning the unexempt conditïon

      By which all mortal frailty must subsist,

      Refreshment after toil, ease after pain,

      That have been tired all day without repast,

      And timely rest have wanted; but fair virgin

      This will restore all soon.

      690 Lady. ’Twill not false traitor,

      ’Twill not restore the truth and honesty

      That thou hast banished from thy tongue with lies;

      Was this the cottage, and the safe abode

      Thou told’st me of? What grim aspécts are these,

      695 These ugly–headed monsters? Mercy guard me!

      Hence with thy brewed enchantments, foul deceiver;

      Hast thou betrayed my credulous innocence

      With vizored falsehood, and base forgery,

      And wouldst thou seek again to trap me here

      700 With lickerish baits fit to ensnare a brute?

      Were it a draught for 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

      705 To a well–governed and wise appetite.

      Comus. 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.

      710 Wherefore did Nature pour her bounties forth

      With such a full and unwithdrawing hand,

      Covering the earth with odours, fruits, and flocks,

      Thronging the seas with spawn innumerable,

      But all to please, and sate the curious taste?

      715 And set to work millions of spinning worms,

      That in their green shops weave the smooth-haired silk

      To deck her sons, and that no corner might

      Be vacant of her plenty, in her own loins

      She hutched th’ all-worshipped ore, and precious gems

      720 To store her children with; if all the world

      Should in a pet of temperance feed on pulse,

      Drink the clear stream, and nothing wear but frieze,

      Th’ All-giver would be unthanked, would be unpraised,

      Not half his riches known, and yet despised,

      725 And we should serve him as a grudging master,

      As a penurious niggard of his wealth,

      And live like Nature’s bastards, not her sons,

      Who would be quite surcharged with her own weight,

      And strangled with her waste fertility;

      730 Th’ earth cumbered, and the winged air darked with plumes,

      The herds would over–multitude their lords,

      The sea o’erfraught would swell, and th’ unsought diamonds

      Would so emblaze the forehead of the deep,

      And so bestud with stars, that they below

      735 Would grow inured to light, and come at last

      To gaze upon the sun with shameless brows.

      List Lady be not coy, and be not cozened

      With that same vaunted name Virginity;

      Beauty is Nature’s coin, must not be hoarded,

      740 But must be current, and the good thereof

      Consists in mutual and partaken bliss,

      Unsavoury in th’ enjoyment of itself.

      If you let slip time, like a neglected rose

      It withers on the stalk with languished head.

      745 Beauty is Nature’s brag, and must be shown

      In courts, at feasts, and high solemnities

      Where most may wonder at the workmanship;

      It is for homely features to keep home,

      They had their name thence; coarse complexïons

      750 And cheeks of sorry grain will serve to ply

      The sampler, and to tease the huswife’s wool.

      What need a vermeil-tinctured lip for that,

      Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the morn?

      There was another meaning in these gifts,

      755 Think what, and be advised, you are but young yet.

      Lady. I had not thought to have unlocked my lips

      In this unhallowed air, but that this juggler

     


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