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To such a flame of sacred vehemence,
Comus. She fables not; I feel that I do fear 800
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 snatch'd 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 fix’d, and motionless : Yet stay, be not disturb’d; now I bethink me, 820 Some other means I have, which may be used, Which once of Melibæus old I learnt, The soothest shepherd that e'er piped on plains.
There is a gentle nymph, not far from hence,
That with moist curb sways the smooth Severn stream,
840 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 to make, Which she with precious vial'd liquors heals : For which the shepherds, at their festivals, Carol her goodness loud in rustic lays, And throw sweet garland wreaths into her stream, 850 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.
860 Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave,
In twisted braids of lilies knitting
Listen, for dear honour's sake,
Listen and save.
880 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 answer'd have.
Listen and save.
Sabrina rises, attended by water-nymphs, and sings. By the rushy-fringed bank,
890 Where grow the willow and the osier dank,
My sliding chariot stays,
That in the channel strays;
That bends not as I tread;
Gentle swain, at thy request,
I am here,
Spir. Goddess dear,
Sabr. Shepherd, 'tis my office best
Sabrina descends, and the Lady rises out of her seat.
Spir. Virgin, daughter of Locrine,