Milton's Comus. Джон Мильтон
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and like esteemed, and the dull swain Treads on it daily with his clouted shoon; And yet more med’cinal is it than that Moly That Hermes once to wise Ulysses gave. He called it Hæmony, and gave it me, And bade me keep it as of sovran use ’Gainst all enchantments, mildew blast, or damp, 640 Or ghastly Furies’ apparition. I pursed it up, but little reckoning made, Till now that this extremity compelled. But now I find it true; for by this means I knew the foul enchanter, though disguised, Entered the very lime-twigs of his spells, And yet came off. If you have this about you (As I will give you when we go) you may Boldly assault the necromancer’s hall; Where if he be, with dauntless hardihood 650 And brandished blade rush on him: break his glass, And shed the luscious liquor on the ground; But seize his wand. Though he and his curst crew Fierce sign of battle make, and menace high, Or, like the sons of Vulcan, vomit smoke, Yet will they soon retire, if he but shrink.
Elder Brother. Thyrsis, lead on apace; I’ll follow thee; And some good angel bear a shield before us!
The Scene changes to a stately palace, set out with all manner of deliciousness: soft music, tables spread with all dainties. Comus appears with his rabble, and the Lady set in an enchanted chair: to whom he offers his glass; which she puts by, and goes about to rise.
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