Comus (The Masque at Ludlow Castle) · chunk 13 of 15
Milton, John · published 1637 · first performed or written 1634 [Sep 29] (Annals) pastoral; masque T56 Magic, spells and conjuring typicality 0.80 · 460 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T56: magic, faustus, charms, charm, conjure, spirits, skill, ho, power, spells.
She fables not, I feel that I do fear Her words set off by some superior power; And though not mortal, yet a cold shuddering dew Dips me all over, as when the wrath of Iove Speaks thunder, and the chains of Erebus To some of Saturn's crew. I must dissemble, And try her yet more strongly. Come; no more, This is mere moral babble, and direct Against the canon laws of our foundation, I must not suffer this, yet 'tis but the lees And setlings of a melancholy blood; But this will cure all straight, one sip of this Will bathe the drooping spirits in delight Beyond the bliss of dreams. Be wise, and taste.— What, have you let the false enchanter scape? O ye mistook, ye should have snatched 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 fixed, and motionless; Yet stay, be not disturbed, now I bethink me, Some other means I have which may be used, Which once of Melibaeus old I learned The soothest shepherd that ere piped on plains. There is a gentle nymph not far from hence That with moist curb sways the smooth Severn stream, Sabrina is her name, a virgin pure, Whilom she was the daughter of Locrine, That had the sceptre from his father Brute. She guiltless damsel flying the mad pursuit Of her enraged stepdame Gwendolyn Commended her fair innocence to the flood That stayed her flight with his cross-flowing course, The water Nymphs that in the bottom played Held up their pearled wrists and took her in, Bearing her strait to aged Nereus' hall Who piteous of her woes reared her lank head, And gave her to his daughters to imbathe In nectared lavers strewed with asphodel, And through the porch, and inlet of each sense Dropped in ambrosial oils till she revived, 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 so make, Which she with precious vialed liquours heals. For which the shepherds at their festivals Carol her goodness loud in rustic lays, And throw sweet garland wreaths into her stream 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.
nodes 815–873 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 13 of 15 in this edition
Length
460 words · 625 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T56 — Magic, spells and conjuringcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.800 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T45 · seed 44: T51 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
She fables not, I feele that I doe feare Her words set off by some superior power; And tough not mortall, yet a cold shuddring dew Dips me alloe, as when the wrath of Iove Speaks thunder, and the chaines of Erebus To some of Scturns crew. I must dissemble, And try her yet more strongly. Come; no more, This is meere morall babble, and direct Against the canon laws of our foundation, I must not suffer this, yet 'tis but the lees And setlings of a melancholy blood; But this will cure all streight, one sip of this Will bathe the drooping spirits in delight Beyond the blisse of dreams. Be wise, and tast.— What, have you let the false enchanter scape? O yee mistooke, yee should have snatcht his wand And bound him fast; without his rod revers't, And backward mutters of dissevering power Wee cannot free the Ladie that sits here In stonie fetters fixt, and motionlesse; Yet stay, be not disturb'd, now I bethinke me, Some other meanes I have which may be us'd, Which once of Melibaeus old I learnt The soothest shepheard that ere pipe't on plains. There is a gentle nymph not farre from hence That with moist curb sways the smooth Severn stream, Sabrina is her name, a virgin pure, Whilome shee was the daughter of Locrine, That had the scepter from his father Brute. She guiltlesse damsell flying the mad pursuit Of her enraged stepdam Guendolen Commended her faire innocence to the flood That stay'd her flight with his crosse-flowing course, The water Nymphs that in the bottome playd Held up their pearled wrists and tooke her in, Bearing her straite to aged Nereus hall Who piteous of her woes reatd her lanke head, And gave her to his daughters to imbathe In nectar'd lavers strewd with asphodil, And through the porch, and inlet of each sense Dropt in ambrosial oyles till she reviv'd, And underwent a quicke, immortall change Made goddesse of the river; still she retaines Her maiden gentlenesse, and oft at eve Visits the heards along the twilight meadows, Helping all urchin blasts, and ill lucke signes That the shrewd medling elfe delights make, Which she with precious viold liquors heales. For which the shepheards at their festivalls Carroll her goodnesse lowd in rusticke layes, And throw sweet garland wreaths into her streame Of pancies, pinks, and gaudie daffadills. And, as the old Swaine said, she can unlocke The clasping charme, and thaw the numming spell, If she be right invok't in warbled Song, For maidenhood she loves, and will be swift To aid a virgin such as was her selfe In hard besetting need, this will I trie And adde the power of some adjuring verse.