It withers on the stalk with languish'd head.
Beauty is Nature's brag, and must be shown 755
In courts, in feasts, and high folemnities,
Where most may wonder at the workmanship;
It is for homely features to keep home,
They had their name thence; coarse complexions
And cheeks of forry grain will ferve to ply 760
The sampler, and to tease the hufwife's wooll.
What need a vermeil-tinctur'd lip for that,
Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the morn?
There was another meaning in these gifts,
Think what, and be advis'd, you are but young yet.
Lady. I had not thought to have unlockt my lips
In this unhallow'd air, but that this jugler
Would think to charm my judgment, as mine eyes,
Obtruding false rules prankt in reason's garb.
I hate when vice can bolt her arguments,
And virtue has no tongue to check her pride.
Impoftor, do not charge moft innocent Nature,
As if she would her children should be riotous
With her abundance; fhe good caterefs
Means her provifion only to the good,
That live according to her sober laws,
And holy dictate of spare temperance:
If every just man, that now pines with want,
Had but a moderate and beseeming share
Of that which lewdly-pamper'd luxury
Now heaps upon fome few with vaft excess,
Nature's full blessings would be well difpens'd
In unfuperfluous even proportion,
And fhe no whit incumber'd with her flore,
And then the giver would be better thank'd, 785
His praise due paid; for swinish gluttony
Ne'er looks to Heav'n amidst his gorgeous feast,
But with befotted base ingratitude
Crams, and blafphemes his feeder. Shall I go on?
Or have I said enough? To him that dares
790
Arm his profane tongue with contemptuous words
Against the fun-clad pow'r of Chastity,
Fain would I fomething fay, yet to what end?
Thou haft nor ear, nor foul to apprehend
The fublime notion, and high mystery,
That must be utter'd to unfold the fage
And ferious doctrin of Virginity,
And thou art worthy that thou should'st not know
More happiness than this thy present lot.
Enjoy your dear wit, and gay rhetoric,
That hath fo well been taught her dazling fence,
Thou art not fit to hear thyself convinc'd;
Yet fhould I try, the uncontrolled worth
Of this pure cause would kindle my rapt spirits
To fuch a flame of sacred vehemence,
That dumb things would be mov'd to fympathize,
And the brute earth would lend her nerves, and shake,
Till all thy magic structures rear'd so high,
Were shatter'd into heaps o'er thy false head.
Com. She fables not, I feel that I do fear Her words set off by some superior power; And though not mortal, yet a cold fhudd'ring dew Dips me all o'er, as when the wrath of Jove Speaks thunder, and the chains of Erebus
To fome of Saturn's crew. I muft diffemble, 815 And try her yet more ftrongly. Come, no more, This is mere moral babble, and direct
Against the canon laws of our foundation;
I must not fuffer this, yet 'tis but the lees
And settlings of a melancholy blood:
But this will cure all ftrait, one fip of this
Will bathe the drooping spirits in delight
Beyond the blifs of dreams. Be wife, and taste.--
The Brothers rush in with fwords drawn, wreft his glass out of his hand, and break it against the ground; his rout make fign of refiftance, but are all driven in; The attendent Spirit comes in.
Spir. What, have you let the falfe inchanter fcape? O ye mistook, ye fhould have fnatcht his wand 825 And bound him faft; without his rod revers'd, And backward mutters of diffevering power, We cannot free the Lady that fits here In ftony fetters fix'd, and motionless :
Yet ftay, be not disturb'd; now I bethink me,
Some other means I have which may be us'd,
Which once of Melibaus old I learnt,
The footheft fhepherd that e'er pip'd on plains.
There is a gentle nymph not far from hence, That with moift curb fways the smooth Severn stream, Sabrina is her name, a virgin pure; Whilome she was the daughter of Locrine, That had the scepter from his father Brute. She guiltless damfel flying the mad pursuit Of her enraged ftepdame Guendolen, Commended her fair innocence to the flood, That flay'd her flight with his cross-flowing course. The water nymphs that in the bottom play'd, Held up their pearled wrists and took her in, Bearing her ftrait to aged Nereus hall,
Who piteous of her woes, rear'd her lank head,
And gave her to his daughters to imbathe
In nectar'd lavers ftrow'd with afphodil,
And through the porch and inlet of each sense
Dropt in ambrosial oils till she reviv'd,
And underwent a quick immortal change,
Made Goddess of the river; ftill fhe retains
Her maiden gentleness, and oft at eve
Vifits the herds along the twilight meadows,
Helping all urchin blasts, and ill-luck signs 855
That the fhrew'd medling elfe delights to make,
Which the with precious vial'd liquors heals.
For which the shepherds at their festivals
Carol her goodness loud in ruftic lays,
And throw sweet garland wreaths into her stream
Of pancies, pinks and gaudy daffadils.
And, as the old fwain faid, fhe can unlock
The clasping charm, and thaw the numming spell,
If she be right invok'd in warbled song,
For maidenhood fhe loves, and will be fwift 865
To aid a virgin, such as was herself,
In hard-besetting need; this will I try,
And add the pow'r of some adjuring verse.
Liften where thou art fitting
Under the glaffy, cool, translucent wave,
In twisted braids of lillies knitting
The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair;
Liften for dear honor's fake,
Goddess of the filver lake,
Liften and fave.
In name of great Oceanus,
By th' earth-shaking Neptune's mace,
And Tethys grave majestic pace,
By hoary Nereus wrinkled look,
And the Carpathian wisard's hook,
By fcaly Triton's winding fhell,
And old footh-saying Glaucus spell,
By Leucothea's lovely hands,
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