Part 5 (1/2)

_Comus._ Perhaps forestalling night prevented them. 285

_Lady._ How easy my misfortune is to hit!

_Comus._ Imports their loss, beside the present need?

_Lady._ No less than if I should my brothers lose.

_Comus._ Were they of manly prime, or youthful bloom?

_Lady._ As smooth as Hebe's their unrazored lips. 290

_Comus._ Two such I saw, what time the labored 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 yon small hill, 295 Plucking ripe cl.u.s.ters from the tender shoots; Their port was more than human, as they stood.

I took it for a faery vision Of some gay creatures of the element, That in the colors of the rainbow live, 300 And play i' the plighted clouds. I was awe-strook, And, as I pa.s.sed, I wors.h.i.+ped. If those you seek, It were a journey like the path to Heaven To help you find them.

_Lady._ Gentle villager, What readiest way would bring me to that place? 305

_Comus._ Due west it rises from this shrubby point.

_Lady._ To find out that, good shepherd, I suppose, In such a scant allowance of star-light, Would overtask the best land-pilot's art, Without the sure guess of well-practised feet. 310

_Comus._ 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 daily walks and ancient neighborhood; And, if your stray attendance be yet lodged, 315 Or shroud within these limits, I shall know Ere morrow wake, or the low-roosted lark From her thatched pallet rouse. If otherwise, I can conduct you, Lady, to a low But loyal cottage, where you may be safe 320 Till further quest.

_Lady._ Shepherd, I take thy word, And trust thy honest-offered courtesy, Which oft is sooner found in lowly sheds, With smoky rafters, than in tapestry halls And courts of princes, where it first was named, 325 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, blest Providence, and square my trial To my proportioned strength! Shepherd, lead on.... 330

The Two Brothers.

_Eld. Bro._ Unm.u.f.fle, ye faint stars; and thou, fair moon, That wont'st to love the traveller's benison, Stoop thy pale visage through an amber cloud, And disinherit Chaos, that reigns here In double night of darkness and of shades; 335 Or, if your influence be quite dammed 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, 340 And thou shalt be our star of Arcady, Or Tyrian Cynosure.

_Sec. Bro._ Or, if our eyes Be barred that happiness, might we but hear The folded flocks, penned in their wattled cotes, Or sound of pastoral reed with oaten stops, 345 Or whistle from the lodge, or village c.o.c.k Count the night-watches to his feathery dames, 'Twould be some solace yet, some little cheering, In this close dungeon of innumerous boughs.

But, Oh, that hapless virgin, our lost sister! 350 Where may she wander now, whither betake her From the chill dew, amongst rude burs 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. 355 What if in wild amazement and affright, Or, while we speak, within the direful grasp Of savage hunger, or of savage heat!

_Eld. Bro._ Peace, brother: be not over-exquisite To cast the fas.h.i.+on of uncertain evils; 360 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! 365 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) 370 Could stir the constant mood of her calm thoughts, And put them into misbecoming plight.

Virtue could see to do what Virtue would By her own radiant light, though sun and moon Were in the flat sea sunk. And Wisdom's self 375 Oft seeks to sweet retired solitude, Where, with her best nurse, Contemplation, She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings, That, in the various bustle of resort, Were all to-ruffled, and sometimes impaired. 380 He that has light within his own clear breast May sit i' the centre, and enjoy bright day: But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts Benighted walks under the mid-day sun; Himself is his own dungeon.

_Sec. Bro._ 'Tis most true 385 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 a hermit of his weeds, 390 His few books, or his beads, or maple dish, Or do his gray hairs any violence?

But Beauty, like the fair Hesperian tree Laden with blooming gold, had need the guard Of dragon-watch with unenchanted eye 395 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 400 Danger will wink on Opportunity, And let a single helpless maiden pa.s.s Uninjured in this wild surrounding waste.

Of night or loneliness it recks me not; I fear the dread events that dog them both, 405 Lest 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 410 Does arbitrate the 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, 415 Which you remember not.

_Sec. Bro._ What hidden strength, Unless the strength of Heaven, if you mean that?

_Eld. Bro._ I mean that too, but yet a hidden strength, Which, if Heaven gave it, may be termed her own.

'Tis chast.i.ty, my brother, chast.i.ty: 420 She that has that is clad in complete steel, And, like a quivered nymph with arrows keen, May trace huge forests, and unharbored heaths, Infamous hills, and sandy perilous wilds; Where, through the sacred rays of chast.i.ty, 425 No savage fierce, bandite, or mountaineer, Will dare to soil her virgin purity.

Yea, there where very desolation dwells, By grots and caverns s.h.a.gged with horrid shades, She may pa.s.s on with unblenched majesty, 430 Be it not done in pride, or in presumption.