There was another meaning in these gifts,
Think what, and be advis'd, you are but young yet.
LA. 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 falfe 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 he would her children fhould be riotous
With her abundance; fhe, good caterefs,
Means her provision only to the good,
That live according to her sober laws,
And holy dictate of fpare temperance:
If every just man, that now pines with want,
Had but a moderate and befeeming share
Of that which lewdly-pamper'd luxury
Now heaps upon some few with vast excess,
Nature's full blessings would be well difpens'd
In unfuperfluous even proportion,
And the no whit incumber'd with her store,
And then the giver would be better thank'd,
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
Arm his profane tongue with contemptuous words
Against the fun-clad power of Chastity,
Fain would 1 fomething fay, yet to what end?
Thou haft nor ear, nor foul to apprehend
The fublime notion, and high mystery,
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 facred 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 fo high,
Were shatter'd into heaps o'er thy false head.
COм. She fables not, I feel that I do fear
Her words fet off by fome fuperior power;
And though not mortal, yet a cold shuddering 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,
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 fettlings of a melancholy blood :
But this will cure all ftrait, one sip of this
Will bathe the drooping fpirits in delight
Beyond the blifs of dreams. Be wife, and taste.---
The Brothers rush in with fwords drawn, wreft his glafs out of his hand, and break it against the ground; his rout make sign of refistance, but are all driven in: The attendent Spirit comes in.
SPI. What, have you let the false inchanter scape? O ye mistook, ye fhould have fnatcht his wand 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 stay, be not disturb'd; now I bethink me,
Some other means I have which may be us’d,
Which once of Melibous 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 ftream,
Sabrina is her name, a virgin pure;
Whilome she was the daughter of Locrine,
That had the fcepter from his father Brute.
She, guiltless damfel, flying the mad pursuit
Of her enraged stepdame Guendolen
Commended her fair innocence to the flood,
That ftay'd her flight with his cross-flowing courfe.
The water nymphs that in the bottom play'd,
Held up their pearled wrifts and took her in,
Bearing her trait 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 fenfe
Dropt in ambrofial oils till fhe reviv'd,
And underwent a quick immortal change,
Made Goddess of the river; ftill she retains
Her maiden gentleness, and oft at eve
Vifits the herds along the twilight meadows,
Helping all urchin blafts, and ill-luck figns
That the fhrewd 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 850 Of panfies, pinks, and gaudy daffadils.
And, as the old fwain said, she can unlock
The clasping charm, and thaw the numming spell,
If the be right invok'd in warbled fong,
For maidenhood she loves, and will be swift
To aid a virgin, fuch as was herself,
In hard-besetting need; this will I try,
And add the power of some adjuring verse.
Liften where thou art fitting
Under the glaffy, cool, translucent wave,
In twisted braids of lilies knitting
The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair;
Liften for dear honor's fake,
Goddess of the filver lake.
Liften and fave.
Liften and appear to us
In name of great Oceanus,
By th' earth-fhaking Neptune's mace,
And Tethys' grave majestic pace,
By hoary Nereus' wrinkled look,
And the Carpathian wifard's hook,
By fcaly Triton's winding fhell,
And old footh-faying Glaucus' spell,
Wherewith the fits on diamond rocks,
Sleeking her foft alluring locks,
By all the nymphs that nightly dance
Upon thy ftreams with wily glance,
Rife, rife, and heave thy rofy head
From thy coral-paven bed,
And bridle in thy headlong wave,
Till thou our fummons anfwer'd have.
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