I’ll tell you. ’Tis not vain or fabulous 867

(Though so esteemed by shallow ignorance),

What the sage poets, taught by th’ Heav’nly Muse,

Storied 868 of old in high immortal verse

Of dire chimeras 869 and enchanted isles,

And rifted870 rocks whose entrance leads to Hell,

For such there be. But unbelief is blind.

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

By sly enticement gives his baneful871 cup,

With many murmurs872 mixed, whose pleasing poison

The visage quite transforms of him who drinks,

And the inglorious likeness of a beast

Fixes instead, unmoulding 873 reason’s mintage874

Charactered875 in the face. This have I learned,

Tending my flocks hard by, i’ th’ hilly crofts876

That brow this bottom glade, whence night by night

He and his monstrous rout877 are heard to howl

Like stabled878 wolves or tigers at their prey,

Doing abhorrèd rites to Hecate879

In their obscurèd haunts of inmost880 bow’rs.

Yet have they many baits and guileful spells

T’ inveigle and invite th’ unwary sense

Of them that pass, unweeting,881 by the way.

This evening, late—by then the chewing flocks

Had ta’n their supper on the savory herb—

I sat me down to watch, upon a bank

With ivy canopied and interwove

With flaunting882 honeysuckle, and began,

Wrapped in a pleasing fit of melancholy,

To meditate my rural minstrelsy

Till Fancy had her fill, but ere a close883

The wonted884 roar was up amidst the woods

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, frightened steeds

That draw the litter of close-curtained sleep.

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

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 honored lady, your dear sister.

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,

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,885

The aidless innocent lady, his wished prey,

Who gently asked if he had seen such two,

Supposing him some neighbor 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.

BROTHER 2. O night and shades,

How are ye joined with Hell in triple knot

Against the unarmed weakness of one virgin,

Alone and helpless! Is this the confidence

You gave me, brother?

BROTHER 1. Yes, and keep it still,

Lean on it safely: not a period886

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,

Surprised by unjust force—but not enthralled.887

Yea, even that which mischief 888 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

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!

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 legions889 that troop

Under the sooty flag of Acheron,890

Harpies891 and hydras,892 or all the monstrous bugs893

’Twixt Africa and Ind! I’ll find him out

And force him to restore his purchase894 back,

Or drag him by the curls and cleave his scalp

Down to the hips!

SPIRIT. Alas, good vent’rous youth,

I love thy courage yet, and bold emprise,895 610

But here thy sword can do thee little stead.896

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!

BROTHER 1. Why prithee, shepherd,

How durst thou then thyself approach so near

As to make this relation?897

SPIRIT. Care and utmost shifts!898

How to secure the lady from surprisal

Brought to my mind a certain shepherd lad

Of small regard899 to see to, yet well skilled

In every virtuous900 plant and healing herb

That spreads her verdant leaf to th’ morning ray.

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

Which when I did, he on the tender grass

Would sit and hearken e’en to ecstasy,

And in requital ope his leathern scrip901

And show me simples902 of a thousand names,

Telling their strange and vigorous faculties.

Amongst the rest a small unsightly root,

But of divine effect, he culled903 me out.

The leaf was darkish and had prickles on it,

But in another country, as he said,

Bore a bright golden flow’r—but not in this soil—

Unknown, and like esteemed—and the dull swain

Treads on it daily with his clouted904 shoon.

And yet more med’cinal is it than that Moly905

Which Hermes906 once to wise Ulysses gave.

He907 called it Haemony, and gave it me,

And bade me keep it as of sov’reign908 use

’Gainst all enchantments, mildew blast,909 or damp,

Or ghastly Furies apparition.910

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

I knew the foul enchanter, though disguised—

Entered the very lime-twigs911 of his spells

And yet came off.912 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 brandished blade rush on him, break his glass

And shed the luscious913 liquor on the ground.

But seize his wand. Though he and his cursed crew

Fierce sign of battle make, and menace high,

Or like the sons of Vulcan vomit smoke,

Yet will they soon retire,914 if he but shrink.915

BROTHER I. Thyrsis, lead on apace.916 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

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

Thou has emmanacled, 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,

When the fresh blood grows lively and returns

Brisk as the April buds in primrose season.

And first behold this cordial917 julip,918 here,

That flames and dances in his crystal bounds,919

With spirits of balm and fragrant syrups mixed.

Not that nepenthes920 which the wife of Thon921

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

For gentle usage and soft delicacy?

But you invert the cov’nants922 of her trust,

And harshly deal like an ill borrower

With that which you received on other terms,

Scorning the unexempt 923 condition 924

By which all mortal frailty must subsist,

Refreshment after toil, ease after pain,

That 925 have been tired all day without repast,

And timely rest have wanted. But, fair virgin,

This will restore all soon.926

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 toldst me of? What grim aspects 927 are these,

These ugly-headed monsters? Mercy guard me!

Hence with thy brewed enchantments, foul deceiver!

Hast thou betrayed my credulous innocence

With visored 928 falsehood and base forgeries

And wouldst thou seek again to trap me, here,

With liquorish 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

To a well-governed and wise appetite.

COMUS. O foolishness of men! that lend their ears

To those budge 929 doctors of the stoic fur,

And fetch their precepts from the cynic tub,930

Praising the lean and sallow abstinence.

Wherefore did Nature pour her bounties forth

With such a full and unwithdrawing hand,

Covering the earth with odors, fruits, and flocks,

Thronging the seas with spawn931 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-haired silk

To deck her sons. And that no corner might

Be vacant of her plenty in her own loins

She hutched932 th’ all-worshipped ore and precious gems

To store 933 her children with. If all the world

Should in a pet 934 of temperance feed on pulse,935

Drink the clear stream, and nothing wear but frieze,936

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

Not half His riches known, and yet despised,

And we would serve Him as a grudging master,

As a penurious niggard 937 of His wealth,

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

Who938 would be quite surcharged 939 with her own weight

And strangled with her waste fertility,

Th’ earth cumbered, and the winged air darked with plumes.940

The herds would over-multitude their lords,

The sea o’er-fraught 941 would swell, and th’ unsought diamonds

Would so emblaze the forehead of the deep,

And so be-stud with stars, that they below

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 942

With that same vaunted 943 name, virginity.

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

But must be current,944 and the good thereof

Consists in mutual and partaken bliss,

Unsavory in th’ enjoyment of itself.

If you let slip time, like a neglected rose

It withers on the stalk, with languished head.

Beauty is Nature’s brag,945 and must be shown

In courts, at feasts, on high solemnities

Where most may wonder at the workmanship.

It is for homely946 features to keep home:

They had their name thence.