wise like men and women, their apparel glistering; they come in making a riotous and unruly noise, with their torches in their hands.] COMUS. The star that bids the shepherd fold, Now the top of heaven doth hold; And the gilded car of day His glowing axle doth allay In the steep Atlantic stream; Shoots against the dusky pole, Of his chamber in the east. Meanwhile welcome joy and feast, Midnight shout and revelry, Tipsy dance and jollity. Who, in their nightly watchful spheres, By dimpled brook, and fountain brim, The wood-nymphs, decked with daisies trim, wakes and pastimes keep; Their merry What hath night to do with sleep? Night hath better sweets to prove, Venus now wakes, and wakens Love. Come, let us our rites begin; 'Tis only daylight that makes sin, Which these dun shades will ne'er report. Dark-veiled Cotytto!7 to whom the secret flame Stay thy cloudy ebon chair, Wherein thou rid'st with Hecat, and befriend Us thy vowed priests, till utmost end Of all thy dues be done, and none left out; Ere the blabbing eastern scout, The nice morn, on the Indian steep From her cabined loophole peep, And to the tell-tale sun descry The Measure. Break off, break off, I feel the different pace Of some chaste footing near about this ground. Run to your shrouds, within these brakes and trees ; Benighted in these woods. Now to my charms, My dazzling spells into the spongy air, Of power to cheat the eye with blear illusion, And give it false presentments, lest the place And my quaint habits breed astonishment, And put the damsel to suspicious flight, Which must not be, for that's against my course; I, under fair pretence of friendly ends, And well-placed words of glozing courtesy, Baited with reasons not unplausible, Wind me into the easy-hearted man, And hug him into snares. When once her eye Hath met the virtue of this magic dust, I shall appear some harmless villager, Whom thrift keeps up about his country gear. And hearken, if I may, her business here. [The LADY enters.] |