(28)
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.—
The brothers ruſh in with ſwords drawne, wrest his
glaſſe out of his hand, and breake it againſt the
ground; his rout make ſigne of reſistance, but are
all driven in; the attendant Spirit comes in.
Spir. What, have you let the falſe enchanter ſcape?
O yee miſtooke, yee ſhould have ſnatched 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 Melibœus 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,
