A Witch, a Sorceress: I tell thee but the truth; and hear Demetrius, Which has so dealt upon thy bloud with charms, Devilish and dark; so lockt up all thy vertues; So pluckt thee back from what thou sprungst from, glorious.

And lo! in a moment, I was free, and I pluckt forth the Diskos from my hip.

She pluckt her Garments up, and tript away, And with her Virgin-innocence did pray For me that perjur'd her.

I then to have another planning; for I had pluckt a hair very sly from her head, and she but to have said an Oh! to me, and to have thought no more.

" And all the land was desolate and waste; The fields stood rotting 'neath the Autumn rains, And no man pluckt the sodden corn that lay, Dead ripe, along the furrows 'mid the weeds; No cattle browsed upon the long rank grass, Or paused to gaze upon him as he rode; The cottages, deserted all in haste, Stood open-door'd and rifted by the winds, With cold grey ashes scatter'd o'er the hearth.

Prospero says, I have Called forth the mutinous winds And 'twixt the green sea, and the azured vault Set roaring war; to the dread ratling thunder, Have I given fire, and rifted Jove's stout oak, With his own bolt; the strong bas'd promontory, Have I made shake, and by the spurs pluckt up The pine and cedar; graves at my command Have waked their sleepers, op'd and let them forth By my so potent art.

Great Queen, they be a Troop for whom alone One of my clearest moons I have put on; A Troop that looks as if thy self and I Had pluckt our rains in, and our whips laid by To gaze upon these Mortals, that appear Brighter than we. Night.

" And all the land was desolate and waste; The fields stood rotting 'neath the Autumn rains, And no man pluckt the sodden corn that lay, Dead ripe, along the furrows 'mid the weeds; No cattle browsed upon the long rank grass, Or paused to gaze upon him as he rode; The cottages, deserted all in haste, Stood open-door'd and rifted by the winds, With cold grey ashes scatter'd o'er the hearth.

But truly, I did be silent with her, for I was but human, and did lack that she come to mine arms, and love me, because that I had pluckt her safe from that place.

He ran at me first in the shape of a Ram, And over and over the Sow-Gelder came; I rise and I halter'd him fast by the horn, I pluckt out his Stones as you'd pick out a Corn.

" And all the land was desolate and waste; The fields stood rotting 'neath the Autumn rains, And no man pluckt the sodden corn that lay, Dead ripe, along the furrows 'mid the weeds; No cattle browsed upon the long rank grass, Or paused to gaze upon him as he rode; The cottages, deserted all in haste, Stood open-door'd and rifted by the winds, With cold grey ashes scatter'd o'er the hearth.

" And all the land was desolate and waste; The fields stood rotting 'neath the Autumn rains, And no man pluckt the sodden corn that lay, Dead ripe, along the furrows 'mid the weeds; No cattle browsed upon the long rank grass, Or paused to gaze upon him as he rode; The cottages, deserted all in haste, Stood open-door'd and rifted by the winds, With cold grey ashes scatter'd o'er the hearth.