A mask PRESENTED At Ludlow Castle, 1634: On Michaelmas night, before the RIGHT HONOURABLE, JOHN Earl of Bridgewater, Viscount BRACKLY, Lord President of WALES, And one of His Majesty's most honourable Privy Counsel.  
Eheu quid volvi misero mihi: floribus austrum  
Perditus—  
LONDON, Printed for HUMPHREY ROBINSON, at the sign of the Three Pigeons in Paul's Churchyard. 1637.   

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, JOHN Lord Viscount BRACLY, Son and heir apparent to the Earl, of Bridgewater, &c.  
MY LORD,  
THis Poem, which received its first occasion of birth from yourself, and others of your noble family, and much honour from your own Person in the performance, now returns again to make a final dedication of itself to you. Although not openly acknowledged by the Author, yet it is a legitimate offspring, so lovely, and so much desired, that the often copying of it hath tired my pen to give my several friend's satisfaction, and brought me to a necessity of producing it to the public view; and now to offer it up in all rightful devotion to those fair hopes, and rare Endowments of your much-promising Youth, which give a full assurance, to all that know you, of a future excellence. Live sweet Lord to be the honour of your Name, and receive this as your own, from the hands of him, who hath by many favours been long obliged to your most honoured Parents, and as in this representation your attendant Thyrsis, so now in all real expression  
Your faithful, and most humble Servant,  
H. LAWES.   

A mask PERFORMED BEFORE the president of WALES at Ludlow, 1634.  The first Scene discovers a wild wood. The attendant Spirit descends or enters. 

BEfore the starry threshold of jove's Court  
My mansion is, where those immortal shapes  
Of bright aerial Spirits live ensphered  
In Regions mild of calm and serene air,  
Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot  
Which men call Earth, and with low-thoughted care  
Confined, and pestered in this pinfold here,  
Strive to keep up a frail, and feverish being  
Unmindful of the crown that Virtue gives  
After this mortal change to her true Servants  
Amongst the enthroned gods on Sainted seats.  
Yet some there be that by due steps aspire  
To lay their just hands on that golden key  
That opes the palace of Eternity:  
To such my errand is, and but for such  
I would not soil these pure ambrosial weeds  
With the rank vapours of this Sin-worn mould.   

But to my task. Neptune besides the sway  
Of every salt Flood, and each ebbing Stream  
Took in my lot twixt high, and neither love  
Imperial rule of all the Sea-girt Isles  
That like too rich, and various gems inlay  
The unadorned bosom of the Deep,  
Which he to grace his tributary gods  
By course commits to several government  
And gives them leave to wear their Saphire crowns,  
And wield their little tridents, but this I'll  
The greatest, and the best of all the main  
He quarters to his blue-haired deities,  
And all this tract that fronts the falling Sun  
A noble Peer of mickle trust, and power  
Has in his charge, with tempered awe to guide  
An old, and haughty Nation proud in Arms:  
Where his fair offspring nursed in Princely lore  
Are coming to attend their Father's state,  
And new-entrusted sceptre, but their way  
Lies through the perplexed paths of this drear wood,  
The nodding horror of whose shady brows  
Threats the forlorn and wandering Passenger.  
And here their tender age might suffer peril  
But that by quick command from Sovereign jove  
I was dispatched for their defence and guard,  
And listen why, for I will tell ye now  
What never yet was heard in Tale or Song  
From old, or modern Bard in hall, or bower.   

Bacchus that first from out the purple Grape  
Crushed the sweet poison of misused Wine  
After the Tuscan Mariners transformed  
Coasting the Tyrrhenic shore, as the winds listed,  
On Circe's Island fell (who knows not Circe  
The daughter of the Sun? whose charmed Cup  
Whoever tasted lost his upright shape  
And downward fell into a groveling Swine)  
This Nymph that gazed upon his clustering locks  
With Ivy berries wreathed, and his blithe youth  
Had by him, ere he parted thence, a Son  
Much like his Father, but his Mother more,  
Whom therefore she brought up and Comus named,  
Who ripe, and frolic of his full grown age  
Roving the Celtic, and Iberian fields  
At last betakes him to this ominous wood,  
And in thick shelter of black shades embowered  
Excels his Mother at her mighty Art  
Offering to every weary Traveller  
His orient liquour in a Crystal glass  
To quench the drought of Phoebus, which as they taste  
(For most do taste through fond intemperate thirst)  
Soon as the Potion works, their humane countenance  
Th'express resemblance of the gods is changed  
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 in their misery,  
Not once perceive their foul disfigurement,  
But boast themselves more comely than before  
And all their friends; and native home forget  
To roll with pleasure in a sensual sty.  
Therefore when any favoured of high jove  
Chances to pass through this adventurous glade,  
Swift as the Sparkle of a glancing Star  
I shoot from heaven 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,  
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.   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  
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,  
Imitate the starry choir,  
Who in their nightly watchful Spheres,  
Lead in swift round the Months and Years.  
The Sounds, and Seas with all their finny drove,  
Now to the Moon in wavering morris 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 decked with daisies trim,  
Their merry wakes, and pastimes keep,  
What hath night to do with sleep?  
Night hath better sweets to prove,  
Venus now wakes, and wakens Love.  
Come let us our rights begin  
'Tis only daylight that makes Sin  
Which these dun shades will ne'er report.  
Haile Goddess of Nocturnal sport  
Dark-veiled Cocytto, t'whom the secret flame  
Of midnight Torches burns; mysterious Dame  
That ne'er at called, 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 vowed Priests, till utmost end  
Of all thy dues be done, and none left out  
Ere the blabbing Eastern scout  
The nice Morn on th' Indian steep  
From her cabined loop hole peep,  
And to the tell-tale Sun descry  
Our concealed Solemnity.  
Come, knit hands, and heat the ground  
In a light fantastic round.  The Measure. 
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  
And to my wily trains, I shall ere long  
Be well stocked with as fair a Herd as grazed  
About my Mother Circe. Thus I hurl  
My dazling Spells into the spongy air  
Of power to cheat the eye with blear illusion,  
And give it false presentments, lest the place  
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 pretents of friendly ends,  
And well placed 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 harken, if I may, her business here.  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 managed Merriment,  
Such as the jocund Flute, or gamesome Pipe  
Stirs up among the loose unlettered Hinds  
When for their teeming Flocks, and granges full  
In wanton dance they praise the bounteous Pan,  
And thank the gods amiss. I should be loath  
To meet the rudeness, and swilled insolence  
Of such late Wassailers; yet o where else  
Shall I inform my unacquainted feet  
In the blind mates of this tangled wood?  
My Brothers when they saw me wearied out  
With this long way, resolving here to lodge.  
Under the spreading favour of these Pines  
Stepped as they said to the next Thicket side  
To bring me Berries, or such cooling fruit  
As the kind hospitable woods provide.  
They left me then, when the gray-hooded e'en  
Like a sad Votarist in Palmer's weeds  
Rose from the hindmost wheels of Phoebus' wain.  
But where they are, and why they came not back  
Is now the labour of my thoughts, 'tis likeliest  
They had engaged their wandering steps too far,  
And envious darkness, ere they could return,  
Had stolen them from me, else o thievish Night  
Why shouldst thou, but for some felonious end  
In thy dark lantern thus close up the Stars,  
That nature hung in Heaven, and filled their lamps  
With everlasting oil to give due light  
To the misled, and lonely Traveller.  
This is the place, as well as I may guess  
Whence even now the tumult of loud Mirth  
Was rife, and perfect in my listening ear,  
Yet nought but single darkness do I find,  
What might this be? a thousand fantasies  
Begin to throng into my memory  
Of calling shapes, and beckoning shadows dire,  
And airy tongues, that syllable men's names  
On Sands, and Shores, and desert Wildernesses.  
These thoughts may startle well, but not astounded  
The virtuous mind, that ever walks attended  
By a strong siding champion Conscience.—  
O welcome pure-eyed Faith, white-handed Hope  
Thou flittering Angel girt with golden wins;  
And thou unblemished form of Chastity  
I see ye visibly, and now believe  
That he, the Supreme good, t'whom all things ill  
Are but as slavish officers of vengeance  
Would send a glistering Guardian if need were  
To keep my life, and honour unassailed.  
Was I deceived, or did a sable cloud  
Turn forth her silver lining on the night?  
I did not err, there does a sables cloud  
Turn forth her silver lining on the night  
And casts a gleam over this tufted Grove.  
I cannot hallow to my Brothers, but  
Such noise as I can make to be heard farthest  
I'll venture, for my new enlivened spirits  
Prompt me; and they perhaps are not far off.  

Song.  

Sweet echo, sweetest Nymph that liv'st unseen  
Within thy airy shell  
By slow Meander's margin green,  
And in the violet-embroidered vale  
Where the love-lorn Nightingale  
Nightly to thee her sad Song mourneth well.   

Canst thou not tell me of a gentle Pair  
That likest thy Narcissus are?  
O if thou have  
Hid them in some flowery Cave,  
Tell me but where  
Sweet Queen of parley, Daughter of the sphere,  
So mayst thou be translated to the skies,  
And give resounding grace to all heavens' Harmonies.    Com. 
Can any mortal mixture of Earth's mould  
Breath such Divine enchanting ravishment?  
Sure something holy lodges in that breast,  
And with these raptures moves the vocal air  
To testify his hidden residence;  
How sweetly did they float upon the wings  
Of Silence, through the empty-vaulted night  
At every fall smoothing the Raven down  
Of darkness till she smiled: I have oft heard  
My mother Circe with the Sirens three  
Amidst the flowery-kirtled Naiades  
Culling their Potent herbs, and baleful drugs  
Who as they sung, would take the prisoned soul  
And lap it in Elysium, Scylla wept,  
And chid her barking waves into attention,  
And fell Charybdis murmured soft applause:  
Yet they in pleasing slumber lulled the sense  
And in sweet madness robbed it of itself,  
But such a sacred, and homefelt delight,  
Such sober certainty of waking bliss  
I never heard till now. I'll speak to her  
And she shall be my Queen. Haile foreign wonder  
Whom certain these rough shades did never breed  
Unless the Goddess that in rural shrine  
Dwellest here with Pan, or Sylvan, by blessed Song  
Forbidding every bleak unkindly Fog  
To touch the prosperous growth of this tall wood.  La. 
Nay gentle Shepherd ill is lost that praise  
That is addressed to unattending Ears,  
Not any boast of skill, but extreme shift  
How to regain my severed company  
Compelled me to awake the courteous Echo  
To give me answer from her mossy Couch.  Co. 
What chance good Lady hath bereft you thus?  La. 
Dim darkness, and this leafy Labyrinth.  Co. 
Could that divide you from near-ushering guides?  La. 
They left me weary on a grassy turf.  Co. 
By falsehood, or discourtesy, or why?  La. 
To seek i'th' valley some cool friendly Spring.  Co. 
And left your fair side all unguarded Lady?  La. 
They were but twain, & purposed quick return.  Co. 
Perhaps forestalling night prevented them.  La. 
How easy my misfortune is to hit!  Co. 
Imports their loss, beside the present need?  La. 
No less than if I should my brothers lose.  Co. 
Were they of manly prime, or youthful bloom?  La. 
As smooth as Hebe's their unrazored lips.  Co. 
Two such I saw, what time the laboured Ox  
In his loose traces from the furrow came,  
And the swinked hedger at his Supper sat;  
I saw them under a green mantling vine  
That crawls along the side of yond small hill,  
Plucking ripe clusters from the tender shoots,  
Their port was more than humane; as they stood,  
I took it for a fairy vision  
Of some gay creatures of the element  
That in the colours of the Rainbow live  
And play i'th' plighted clouds, I was awe-struck,  
And as I passed, I worshipped; if those you seek  
It were a journey like the path to heaven  
To help you find them.  La. 
Gentle villager  
What readiest way would bring me to that place?  Co. 
Due west it rises from this shrubby point.  La. 
To find out that good shepherd I suppose  
In such a scant allowance of star light  
Would overtask the best land-pilots art  
Without the sure guess of well-practiced feet.  Co. 
I know each lane, and every alley green  
Dingle, or bushy dell of this wild wood,  
And every bosky bourn from side to side  
My day lie walks and ancient neighbourhood,  
And if your stray attendance be yet lodged  
Or shroud within these limits, I shall know  
Ere morrow wake, or the low-roosted lark  
From her thatched palate rouse, if otherwise  
I can conduct you Lady to a low  
But loyal cottage, where you may be safe  
Till further quest.  La. 
Shepherd I take thy word,  
And trust thy honest offered courtesy,  
Which oft is sooner found in lowly sheds  
With smoky rafters, then in tapestry halls,  
And courts of Princes, where it first was named,  
And yet is most pretended: in a place  
Less warranted than this, or less secure  
I cannot be, that I should fear to change it,  
Eye me blessed Providence, and square my trial  
To my proportioned strength. Shepheard lead on.—  The two Brothers. Elder bro. 
Unmuffle ye faint stars, and thou fair moon  
That wontst to love the travellers benison  
Stoop thy pale visage through an amber cloud  
And disinherit Chaos, that reigns here  
In double night of darkness, and of shades;  
Or if your influence be quite damned up  
With black usurping mists, some gentle taper  
Though a rush candle from the wicker hole  
Of some clay habitation visit us  
With thy long levelled rule of streaming light  
And thou shalt be our star of Arcady  
Or Tyrian Cynosure.  2 Bro. 
Or if our eyes:  
Be barred that happiness, might we but hear  
The folded flocks penned in their wattled coats,  
Or sound of pastoral reed with oaten stops,  
Or whistle from the Lodge, or village cock  
Count the night watches to his feathery Dames,  
'twould be some solace yet, some little cheering  
In this close dungeon of innumerous bows.  
But o that hapless virgin our lost sister  
Where may she wander now, whether betake her  
From the chill dew, amongst rude burrs and thistles?  
Perhaps some cold bank is her bolster now  
Or 'gainst the rugged bark of some broad Elm  
Leans her unpillowed head fraught with sad fears.  
What if in wild amazement, and affright  
Or while we speak within he direful grasp  
Of Savage hunger, or of Savage heat?  Elder bro. 
Peace brother, be not over exquisite  
To cast the fashion of uncertain evils,  
For grant they be so, while they rest unknown  
What need a man forestall his date of grief  
And run to meet what he would most avoid?  
Or if they be but false alarms of Fear  
How bitter is such self-delusion?  
I do not think my sister so to seek  
Or so unprincipled in virtue's book  
And the sweet peace that goodness bosoms ever  
As that the single want of light, and noise  
(Not being in danger, as I trust she is not)  
Could stir the constant mood of her calm thoughts  
And put them into misbecoming.  
Virtue could see to do what virtue would  
By her own radiant light, though Sun and Moon  
Were in the flat Sea sunk, and Wisdoms self  
Oft seeks to sweet retired Solitude  
Where with her best nurse Contemplation  
She plumes her feathers, and let's grow her wings  
That in the various bustle of resort  
Were all to ruffled, and sometimes impaired.  
He that has light within his own clear breast  
May sit i'th' centre, and enjoy bright day,  
But he that hides a dark soul, and foul thoughts  
Benighted walks under the midday Sun,  
Himself is his own dungeon.  2. Bro. 
'Tis most true  
That musing meditation most affects  
The Pensive secrecy of desert cell  
Far from the cheerful haunt of men, and herds,  
And sits as safe as in a Senate house  
For who would rob an Hermit of his weeds  
His few books, or his beads, or maple dish,  
Or do his grey hairs any violence?  
But beauty like the fair Hesperian tree  
Laden with blooming gold, had need the guard  
Of dragon watch with unenchanted eye  
To save her blossoms, and defend her fruit  
From the rash hand of bold Incontinence.  
You may as well spread out the unsunned heaps  
Of miser's treasure by an outlaw's den  
And tell me it is safe, as bid me hope  
Danger will wink on opportunity  
And let a single helpless maiden pass  
Uninjured in this wild surrounding waste.  
Of night, or loneliness it recks me not  
I fear the dread events that dog them both,  
I est some ill greeting touch attempt the person  
Of our unowned sister.  Eld. Bro. 
I do not brother  
Infer, as if I thought my sister's state  
Secure without all doubt, or controversy:  
Yet where an equal poise of hope, and fear  
Does arbitrate th'event, my nature is  
That I incline to hope, rather than fear  
And gladly banish squint suspicion.  
My sister is not so defenceless left  
As you imagine, she has a hidden strength  
Which you remember not.  2. Bro. 
What hidden strength  
Unless the strength of heaven, if mean that?  Eld. Bro. 
I mean that too, but yet a hidden strength  
Which if heaven gave it, may be termed her own:  
'Tis chastity, my brother, chastity:  
She that has that, is clad in complete steel,  
And like a quivered nymph with arrows keen  
May trace huge forests, and unharboured heaths  
Infamous hills, and sandy perilous wilds  
Where through the sacred rays of chastity  
No savage fierce, bandit, or mountaineer  
Will dare to soil her virgin purity  
Yea there, where very desolation dwells  
By grots, and caverns shagged with horrid shades  
She may pass on with unblenched majesty  
Be it not done in pride, or in presumption.  
Some say no evil thing that walks by night  
In fog, or fire, by lake, or moorish fen  
blue meager hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost  
That breaks his magic chains at curfew time  
No goblin, or swart Fairy of the mine  
Has hurtful power over true virginity.  
Do ye believe me yet, or shall I call  
Antiquity from the old schools of Greece  
To testify the arms of Chastity?  
Hence had the huntress Dian her dread bow  
Fair silver-shafted Queen for ever chaste  
Wherewith we tamed the brinded lioness  
And spotted mountain pard, but set at nought  
The frivolous bolt of Cupid, gods and men  
Feared her stern frown, & 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?  
But rigid looks of Chaste austerity  
And noble grace that dashed brute violence  
With sudden adoration, and blank awe.  
So dear to heaven is saintly chastity  
That when a soul is found sincerely so,  
A thousand liveried angels lackey her  
Driving far off each thing of sin, and guilt,  
And in clear dream, and solemn vision  
Tell her of things that no gross ear can hear,  
Till oft converse with heavenly habitants  
Begin to cast a beam on th' outward shape  
The unpolluted temple of the mind  
And turns it by degrees to the souls essence  
Till all be made immortal; but when lust  
By unchaste looks, loose gestures, and foul talk  
But most by lewd, and lavish act of sin  
let's in defilement to the inward parts,  
The soul grows clotted by contagion,  
embodies, and imbrutes, till she quite loose  
The divine property of her first being.  
Such are those thick, and gloomy shadows damp  
Oft seen in Charnel vaults, and Sepulchers  
Hovering, and sitting by a new made grave  
As loath to leave the body that it loved,  
And linked itself by carnal sensuality  
To a degenerate and degraded state.  2 Bro. 
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.  El: bro. 
List, list I hear  
Some far off hallow break the silent air.  2 Bro. 
methought so too, what should it be?  Elder bro. 
For certain  
Either some one like us night foundered here,  
Or else some neighbour wood man, or at worst  
Some roving robber calling to his fellows.  2 Bro. 
Heaven keep my sister, again again and near,  
Best draw, and stand upon our guard.  Elder bro. 
I'll hallow,  
If he be friendly he comes well, if not  
Defence is a good cause, and Heaven be for us.  The attendant Spirit habited like a shepherd. 
That hallow I should know, what are you, speak,  
Come not too near, you fall on iron stakes else.  Spir. 
What voice is that, my young Lord? speak again.  2 Bro. 
O brother 'tis my father Shepherd sure.  Elder bro. 
Thyrsis whose artful strains have oft delayed  
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 weather the penned flock forsook,  
How couldst thou find this dark sequestered nook?  Spir. 
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  
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 bro. 
To tell thee sadly shepherd, without blame  
Or our neglect, we lost her as we came.  Spir. 
ay me unhappy then my fears are true.  Elder bro. 
What fears good Thyrsis? prithee briefly show.  Spir. 
I'll tell you, 'tis not vain, or fabulous  
(Though so esteemed by shallow ignorance)  
What the sage Poets taught by th'heavenly Muse  
Storied of old in high immortal verse  
Of dire Chimaeras and enchanted Isles  
And rifted rocks whose entrance leads to hell,  
To 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 borne, great Comus,  
Deep skilled in all his mother's witcheries,  
And here to every thirsty wanderer  
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  
Charactered in the face; this have I learned  
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  
Doing abhorred rites to Hecate  
In their obscured haunts of inmost bowers.  
Yet have they many baits, and guileful spells  
T'inveigle, and invite th'unwary sense  
Of them that pass unwitting by the way.  
This evening late by then the chewing flocks  
Had ta'en their supper on the savoury herb  
Of Knotgrass dew-besprent, and were in fold  
I sat me down to watch upon a bank  
With ivy canopied, and interwove  
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,  
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.  
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 e'er 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 honoured Lady your dear sister.  
Amazed I stood, harrowed with grief and fear,  
And o poor hapless nightingale thought I  
How sweet thou singest, how near the deadly snare!  
Then down the lawns I ran with headlong haste  
Through paths, and turnings often trodden 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  
The aidless innocent Lady his wish't prey,  
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 farther know I not.  2 Bro. 
O night and shades  
How are ye joined with hell in triple knot  
Against th'unarmed weakness of one virgin  
Alone, and helpless! is this the confidence  
You gave me brother?  Elder bro. 
Yes, and keep it still,  
leer 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,  
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  
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 heaven  
May never this just sword be lifted up,  
But for that damned magician, let him be girt  
With all the grisly legions that troop  
Under the sooty flag of Acheron,  
harpies and Hydra's, or all the monstrous bugs  
'Twixt Africa, and Ind, I'll find him out  
And force him to restore his purchase back  
Or drag him by the curls, and cleave his scalp  
Down to the hips.  Spir. 
Alas good venturous youth,  
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.  Eld. Bro. 
Why prithee shepherd  
How durst thou then thyself approach so near  
As to make this relation?  Spir. 
Care and utmost shifts  
How to secure the Lady from surprisal  
Brought to my mind a certain shepherd lad  
Of small regard to see to, yet well skilled  
In every virtuous plant, and healing herb  
That spreads her verdant lease toth' morning ray,  
He loved me well, and oft would beg me sing,  
Which when I did, he on the tender grass  
Would sit, and harken 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,  
But of divine effect, he culled me out;  
The leaf was darkish, and had prickles on it,  
But in another Country, as be said,  
Bore a bright golden flower, but not in this soil:  
Unknown, and like esteemed, and the dull swain  
Treads on it daily with his coloured shoes,  
And yet more medicinal is it then that Moby  
That Hermes once to wise Ulysseses gave,  
He called it Haemony, and gave it me  
And bade me keep it as of sovereign use  
'Gainst all enchantments, mildew blast, or damp  
Or ghastly furies apparition;  
I pursed it up, but little reckoning 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-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 necromancers hall,  
Where if he be, with dauntless hardihood  
And brandished blade rush on him, break his glass,  
And shed the luscious liquour 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, if he but shrink  Eld. Bro. 
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 enchant 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.  La. 
Fool do not boast,  
Thou canst not touch the freedom of my mind  
With all thy charms, although this corporal rind  
Thou hast emmanacled, while heaven sees good.  Co. 
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 cordial julep here  
That flames, and dances in his crystal bounds  
With spirits of balm, and fragrant syrups mixed.  
Not that Nepenthes which the wife of Thone  
In Egypt gave to love borne 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 covenants of her trust,  
And harshly deal like an ill borrower  
With that which you received on other terms,  
Scorning the unexempt condition,  
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.  La. 
'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 aspects are these,  
These ugly-headed monsters? Mercy guard me!  
Hence with thy brewed enchantments foul deceiver,  
Hast thou betrayed my credulous innocence  
With visored falsehood, and base forgery,  
And wouldst thou seek again to trap me here  
With liquorish baits fit to ensnare a brute?  
Were it a draft 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 nor delicious  
To a well-governed and wise appetite.  Co. 
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.  
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 sat 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 hutched th'all worshipped over, and precious gems  
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 freeze,  
Th'all-giver would be unthanked, would be unpraised,  
Not half his riches known, and yet despised,  
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, plumes,  
And strangled with her waste fertility;  
Th'earth cumbered, and the winged air darked with  
The herds would over-multitude their Lords,  
The sea o'erfraught would swell, and th'unsought diamonds  
Would so emblaze he forehead of the Deep,  
And so bestud with stars that they below  
Would grow enured 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,  
But must be currant, 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.  
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; course complexions  
And cheeks of sorry grain will serve to ply  
The sampler, and to tease the huswives wool.  
What need a vermeil-tinctured lip for that  
Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the Morn  
There was another meaning in these gifts?  
Think what, and be advised, you are but young yet.  La. 
I had not thought to have unlocked my lips  
In this unhallowed air, but that this Juggler  
Would think to charm my judgement, as mine eyes  
Obtruding false rules pranked in reasons garb.  
I hate when vice can bolt her arguments  
And virtue has no tongue to check her pride:  
Impostor do not charge most innocent nature  
As if she would her children should be riotous  
With her abundance, she good cateress  
Means her provision 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 lewdy-pampered Luxury  
Now heaps upon some few with vast excess,  
Nature's full blessings would be well dispensed  
In unsuperfluous even proportion,  
And she no whit encumbered with her store,  
And then the giver would be better thanked,'  
His praise due paid, for swinish gluttony  
ne'er looks to heaven amidst his gorgeous feast,  
But with besorted base ingratitude  
crams, and blasphemes his feeder. Shall I go on?  
Or have I said enough? to him that dares  
Arm his profane tongue with reproachful words  
Against the Sun-clad power of Chastity  
Fain would I something say, yet to what end?  
Thou hast nor Ear, nor School to apprehend  
The sublime notion, and high mystery  
That must be uttered to unfold the sage  
And serious doctrine of Virginity,  
And thou art worthy that thou shouldst not know  
More happiness than this thy present lot.  
Enjoy your dear Wit, and gay Rhetoric  
That hath so well been taught her dazzling fence,  
Thou art not fit to hear thyself convinced;  
Yet should I try, the uncontrolled worth  
Of this pure cause would kindle my rapt spirits  
To such a flame of sacred vehemence,  
That dumb things would be moved to sympathize,  
And the brute Earth would lend her nerves, and shake,  
Till all thy magic structures reared so high  
Were shattered into heaps o'er thy false head.  Co. 
She fables not, I feel that I do fear  
Her words set off by some superior power;  
And though not mortal, yet a cold shuddering dew  
Dips me all over, as when the wrath of jove  
Speaks thunder, and the chains of Erebus  
To some of Saturn's crew. I must dissemble,  
And try her yet more strongly. Come; no more,  
This is mere moral babble, and direct  
Against the canon laws of our foundation,  
I must not suffer this, yet 'tis but the lees  
And setlings of a melancholy blood;  
But this will cure all straight, one sip of this  
Will bathe the drooping spirits in delight  
Beyond the bliss of dreams. Be wise, and taste.—  The brother's rush in with swords drawn, wrest his glass out of his hand, and break it against the ground; his rout make sign of resistance, but are all driven in; the attendant Spirit comes in. Spir. 
What, have you let the false enchanter scape?  
O ye mistook, ye should have snatched his wand  
And bound him fast; without his rod reversed,  
And backward mutters of dissevering power  
we cannot free the Lady that sits here  
In stony fetters fixed, and motionless;  
Yet stay, be not disturbed, now I bethink me,  
Some other means I have which may be used,  
Which once of Melibaeus old I learned  
The soothest shepherd that ere piped on plains.  
There is a gentle nymph not far from hence  
That with moist curb sways the smooth Severn stream,  
Sabrina is her name, a virgin pure,  
Whilom she was the daughter of Locrine,  
That had the sceptre from his father Brute.  
She guiltless damsel flying the mad pursuit  
Of her enraged stepdame Gwendolyn  
Commended her fair innocence to the flood  
That stayed her flight with his cross-flowing course,  
The water Nymphs that in the bottom played  
Held up their pearled wrists and took her in,  
Bearing her straight to aged Nereus' hall  
Who piteous of her woes reared her lank head,  
And gave her to his daughters to imbathe  
In nectared lavers strewed with asphodel,  
And through the porch, and inlet of each sense  
Dropped in ambrosial oils till she revived,  
And underwent a quick, immortal change  
Made goddess of the river; still she retains  
Her maiden gentleness, and oft at eve  
Visits the herds along the twilight meadows,  
Helping all urchin blasts, and ill luck signs  
That the shrewd meddling elf delights so make,  
Which she with precious vialed liquours heals.  
For which the shepherds at their festivals  
Carol her goodness loud in rustic lays,  
And throw sweet garland wreaths into her stream  
Of pansies, pinks, and gaudy daffodils.  
And, as the old Swain said, she can unlock  
The clasping charm, and thaw the numbing spell,  
If she be right invoked in warbled Song,  
For maidenhood she loves, and will be swift  
To aid a virgin such as was herself  
In hard besetting need, this will I try  
And add the power of some adjuring verse.  

Song.  

Sabrina fair  
Listen where thou art sitting  
Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave,  
In twisted braids of lilies knitting  
The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair,  
Listen for dear honour's sake  
Goddess of the silver lake  
Listen and save.    
Listen and appear to us  
In name of great Oceanus,  
By th' earth shaking Neptun's mace  
And Tethys' grave majestic pace,  
By hoary Nereus wrincled look,  
And the Carpathian wizard's hook,  
By scaly winding shell.  
And old sooth saying Claucus' spell,  
By Leucothea's lovely hands,  
And her son that rules the strands,  
By Thetis' tinsel-slipper feet;  
And the songs of Sirens sweet,  
By dead Parthenope's dear tomb,  
And fair Ligea's golden comb,  
Wherewith she sits on diamond rocks  
Sleeking her soft alluring locks,  
By all the Nymphs that nightly dance  
Upon thy streams with wily glance,  
Rise, rise and heave thy rosy head  
From thy coral-paven bed,  
And bridle in thy headlong wave  
Till thou our summons answered have.  
Listen and save.  

Sabrina rises attended by water nymphs and sings.  
By the rushy fringed bank,  
Where grows the willow and the osier dank  
My sliding chariot stays,  
Thick set with agate, and the azure sheen  
Of turquis blue, and emerald green  
That in the channel strays,  
Whilst from off the water's fleet  
Thus I set my printless feet  
o'er the cowslips velvet head,  
That bends not as I tread,  
Gentle swain at thy request  
I am here.   Spir. 
Goddess dear  
we implore thy powerful hand  
To undo the charmed band  
Of true virgin here distressed,  
Through the force, and through the wile  
Of unblessed enchanter vile.  Sab. 
Shepherd 'tis my office best  
To help ensnared chastity;  
Brightest Lady look on me,  
Thus I sprinkle on thy breast  
Drops that from my fountain pure  
I have kept of precious cure,  
Thrice upon thy finger's tip,  
Thrice upon thy rubied lip,  
Next this marble venomed seat  
Smeared with gums of glutenous heat  
I touch with chaste palms moist and cold,  
Now the spell hath lost his hold.  
And I must haste ere morning hour  
To wait in Amphitrite's bower.  Sabrina descends and the Lady rises out of her seat. Spir. 
Virgin, daughter of Locrine  
Sprung of old Anchises line  
May thy brimmed waves for this  
Their full tribute never miss  
From a thousand petty rills,  
That tumble down the snowy hills:  
Summer drought, or singed air  
Never scorch thy tresses fair,  
Nor wet October's torrent flood  
Thy molten crystal fill with mud,  
May thy billows roll ashore  
The beryl, and the golden ore,  
May thy lofty head be crowned  
With many a tower, and terrace round,  
And here and there thy banks upon  
With groves of myrrh, and cinnamon.  
Come Lady while heaven lends us grace,  
Let us fly this cursed place,  
Lest the sorcerer us entice  
With some other new device.  
Not a waste, or needless sound  
Till we come to holier ground,  
I shall be your faithful guide  
Through this gloomy covert wide,  
And not many furlongs thence  
Is your Father's residence,  
Where this night are met in state  
Many a friend to gratulate  
His wish't presence, and beside  
All the Swains that there abide,  
With jigs, and rural dance resort,  
we shall catch them at their sport,  
And our sudden coming there  
Will double all their mirth, and cheer,  
Come let us haste the stars are high  
But night sits monarch yet in the mid sky.  The Scene changes presenting Ludlow town and the president's Castle, then come in Country dancers, after them the attendant Spirit with the two Brothers and the Lady. Song. Spir. 
Back shepherds, back enough your play,  
Till next Sunshine holiday,  
Here be without duck or nod,  
Other trippings to be trod  
Of lighter toes, and such Court guise  
As Mercury did first devise  
With the mincing dryads  
On the lawns, and on the leas.  This second Song presents them to their father and mother. 
Noble Lord, and Lady bright,  
I have brought ye new delight,  
Here behold so goodly grown.  
Three fair branches of your own,  
Heaven hath timely tried their youth,  
Their faith, their patience, and their truth,  
And sent them here through hard assays  
With a crown of deathless Praise,  
To triumph in victorious dance  
o'er sensual Folly, and Intemperance.  The dances ended, the Spirit Epilogizes. Spir. 
To the Ocean now I fly,  
And those happy climes that lie  
Where day never shuts his eye,  
Up in the broad fields of the sky:  
There I suck the liquid air  
All amidst the gardens fair  
Of Hesperus, and his daughters three  
That sing about the golden tree,  
Along the crisped shades, and bowers  
Revels the spruce and jocund Spring,  
The Graces, and the rosy-bosomed Hours  
Thither all their bounties bring,  
That there eternal Summer dwells  
And west winds, with musky wing  
About the cedarn alleys fling  
Nard, and Cassia's balmy smells.  
Iris there with humid bow  
Waters the odorous banks that blow  
Flowers of more mingled hue  
Then her purfled scarf can show,  
And drenches with Elysium dew  
(List mortals, if your ears be true)  
Beds of Hyacinth, and roses)  
Where young Adonis oft reposes,  
Waxing well of his deep wound  
In slumber soft, and on the ground  
Sadly sits th'Assyrian Queen;  
But far above in spangled sheen  
Celestial Cupid her famed Son advanced,  
Holds his dear Psyche sweet entranced  
After her wandering labours long,  
Till free consent the gods among  
Make her his eternal Bride,  
And from her fair unspotted side  
Two blissful twins are to be borne,  
Youth, and joy; so jove hath sworn.  
But now my task is smoothly done,  
I can fly, or I can run  
Quickly to the green earth's end,  
Where the bowed welkin slow doth bend,  
And from thence can soar as soon  
To the corners of the Moon.  
Mortals that would follow me,  
Love virtue, she alone is free,  
She can teach ye how to climb  
Higher than the Sphaery chime;  
Or if virtue feeble were  
Heaven itself would stoop to her.  

The principal persons in this Mask; were  
The Lord BRACLY,  
Mr. THOMAS EGERTON,  
The Lady ALICE EGERTON.   
The END