Covering the Earth with odours, fruits, and flocks,
Thronging the Seas with spawn innumerable,
But all to please, and fate the curious taste?
And set to work millions of fpinning Worms, [filk,
That in their green shops weave the fmooth-hair'd
To deck her Sons; and that no corner might
Be vacant of her plenty, in her own loins
She hutcht th' all-worshipt Ore, and precious Gems,
To ftore her chilldren with? If all the world
Should in a pet of temperance feed on Pulse,
Drink the clear ftream, and nothing wear but Frieze,
Th'All-giver would be unthank'd,would be unprais'd
Not half his riches known, and yet defpis'd,
And we should serve him as a grudging Master,
As a penurious Niggard of his wealth,
And live like Nature's baftards not her fons,
Who would be quite furcharg'd with her own weight,
And strangl'd with her wafte fertility; [plumes,
Th' earth cumber'd, and the wing'd air darkt with
The herds would over-multitude their Lords,
The Sea o'erfraught would fwell, and th' unfought
Diamonds
Would fo emblaze the forehead of the Deep,
And fo bestud with Stars, that they below
Would grow inur'd to light, and come at laft
To gaze upon the Sun with fhameless brows.
Lift, Lady; be not coy, and be not cofen'd
With that fame vaunted name Virginity:
Beauty is Nature's coin, must not be hoarded,
But must be current, and the good thereof
Confifts in mutual and partaken bliss,
Unfavoury in th' injoyment of itself;
If you let flip time, like a neglected rose,
It withers on the stalk with languish'd head.
Beauty is Nature's brag, and must be shown
In Courts, at Feafts, and high Solemnities,
Where most may wonder at the workmanship:
It is for homely features to keep home,
They had their name thence; coarse complexions,
And cheeks of forry grain will ferve to ply
The fampler, and to teize the housewife's wooll.
What need a vermil-tinctur'd lip for that,
Love-darting eyes, or treffes like the Morn?
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 most innocent Nature,
As if the would her children fhould be riotous
With her abundance; fhe, good caterefs,
Means her provifion 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 fome few with vast excefs,
Nature's full bleffings would be well difpens'd,
In unfuperfluous even proportion,
And the no whit encumber'd with her store;
And then the giver would be better thank'd,
His praife due paid: for fwinish 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 faid enough to him that dares
Arm his prophane tongue with contemptuous words
Against the Sun-clad power of Chastity?
Fain would I fomething fay, yet to what end?
Thou haft nor Ear, nor Soul to apprehend
The fublime notion, and high mystery
That must be utter'd to unfold the fage
And ferious doctrine of Virginity,
And thou art worthy that thou should'st not know
More happiness than this thy present lot.
Enjoy your dear Wit, and gay Rhetorick,
That hath fo well been taught her dazling fence,
Thou art not fit to hear thyfelf convinc'd;
Yet fhould I try, the uncontrouled worth
Of this pure caufe would kindle my rapt fpirits
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 magick structures, rear'd so high,
Were shatter'd into heaps o'er thy false head.
Co. She fables not; I feel that I do fear
Her words fet off by fome fuperior power:
And tho' not mortal, yet a cold fhudd'ring 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 must 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 suffer this, 'tis but the lees
And fettlings of a melancholy blood:
But this will cure all ftreight, one fip of this
Will bathe the drooping spirits in delight,
Beyond the blifs of dreams. Be wife and taste.---
The Brothers rub in with Swords drawn, wreft bis Glafs out of bis hand, and break it against the ground; bis Rout make fign of refiftance, but are all driven in. The attendant fpirit comes in.
Spir. What, have you let the falfe Enchanter fcape?
O ye miftook, ye should have snatch'd 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 fixt, and motionless:
Yet ftay, be not disturb'd, now I bethink me,
Some other means I have which may be us’d,
Which once of Melibaus old I learnt,
The footheft Shepherd that e'er pip'd on Plains.
There is a gentle Nymph, not far from hence; That with moift curb fways the fmooth Severn Sabrina is her name, a Virgin pure ; Whilom she was the daughter of Lacrine, That had the Scepter from his Father Brute: She, guiltlefs damfel, flying the mad purfuit.
Of her enraged Stepdame Guendolen,
Commended her fair innocence to the flood,
That stay'd her flight with his cross-flowing courfe;
The water Nymphs, that in the bottom play'd,
Held up their pearled wrists and took her in,
Bearing her ftreight to aged Nereus' Hall ;
Who piteous of her woes, rear'd her tank head,
And gave her to his daughters to imbathe
In nectar'd lavers ftrew'd with Asphodil ;
And through the porch and inlet of each sense
Dropt in Ambrofial Oyls till fhe reviv'd,
And underwent a quick immortal change,
Made Goddefs of the River: ftill the retains
Her maiden gentleness, and oft at Eve
Vifits the herds along the twilight meadows,
Helping all Urchin blaft, and ill-luck figns
That the fhrewd medling Elfe delights to make,
Which the with precious viol'd liquors heals.
For which the Shepherds at their Festivals
Carrol her goodnefs loud in ruftic lays,
And throw fweet garland wreaths into her ftream
Of Panfies, Pinks and gaudy Daffadils.
And, as the old Swain faid, fhe can unlock
The clafping charm, and thaw the numbing spell,
If the be right invok'd in warbled Song ;
For maidenhood fhe loves, and will be swift
To aid a Virgin, fuch as was her felf,
In hard-befetting need: this will I try,
And add the pow'r of fome adjuring verfe.
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