Or our neglect, we lost her as we came. 510
Spir. Ay me unhappy! then my fears are true.
Eld. Bro. What fears, good Thyrsis? Prithee briefly shew.
Spir. I’ll tell ye. ’Tis not vain or fabulous
(Though so esteemed by shallow ignorance)
What the sage poets, taught by the heavenly Muse, 515
Storied of old in high immortal verse
Of dire [Chimeras] and enchanted isles,
And rifted rocks whose entrance leads to Hell;
For such there be, but unbelief is blind.