rance, to all that know you, of a future excellence. Live, fweet Lord, to be the honor of your name; and receive this as your own, from the hands of him, who hath by many favors been long oblig'd to your mo honor'd parents; and as in this representation your at tendant Thyrfis, fo now in all real expreffion Your faithful and most humble Servant, H. LA WES. A MASK. A MAS K. The firft Scene difcovers a wild Wood. B The attendant Spirit defcends or enters. EFORE the ftarry threshold of Jove's court My manfion is, where thofe immortal shapes Of bright aereal Spirits live infpher'd In regions mild of calm and ferene air, 5 10 Which men call Earth, and with low-thoughted care 15 20 The The unadorned bofom of the deep, Which he to grace his tributary Gods By courfe commits to several government, And gives them leave to wear their fapphire crowns, And wield their little tridents: but this Ile, The greatest and the best of all the main, He quarters to his blue-hair'd deities; And new-intrusted scepter; but their way Lies through the perplex'd paths of this drear wood, Threats the forlorn and wandering passenger; 25 30 35 40 45 50 Whoever tafted, loft his upright shape, And And downward fell into a groveling swine) Whom therefore the brought up, and Comus namn'd, Who, ripe, and frolic of his full grown age, Roving the Celtic and Iberian fields, At laft betakes him to this ominous wood, And in thick fhelter of black fhades imbower'd Offering to every weary traveller His orient liquor in a crystal glass, 55 To quench the drouth of Phoebus, which as they taste, 70 Not once perceive their foul disfigurement, But boast themselves more comely than before, 75 And all their friends and native home forget, 80 I shoot from Heav'n, to give him safe convoy, Thefe These my sky robes spun out of Iris' woof, And take the weeds and likeness of a fwain, Who with his foft-pipe, and fimooth dittied fong, Comus enters with a charming-rod in one hand, his glafs in the other; with him a rout of monsters, headed like fundry forts of wild beafts, but otherwife like men and women, their apparel gliftering; they come in making a riotous and unruly noise, with torches in their hands. COм. The ftar that bids the fhepherd fold, Now the top of Heav'n doth hold, And the gilded car of day His glowing axle doth allay And the slope fun his upward beam Pacing toward the other goal Of his chamber in the east. 95 100 Braid your locks with rofy twine, *Dropping odors, dropping wine. 305 Rigor |