"What, have ye let the false enchanter scape?" the Guardian
Spirit cries. "Oh, ye mistook, ye should have snatched his wand
and bound him fast." Without his rod reversed and backward-
muttered incantation they cannot free the Lady. Yet there is
another means. Sabrina, the nymph of the Severn, may save her.
So the Spirit calls upon her for aid.
"Sabrina fair,
Listen where thou art sitting
Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave,
In twisted braids of lilies knitting
The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair,
Listen for dear honour's sake,
Goddess of the silver lake,
Listen and save."
Sabrina comes, and sprinkling water on the Lady, breaks the
charm.
"Brightest Lady, look on me;
Thus I sprinkle on thy breast
Drops that from my fountain pure
I have kept of precious cure,
Thrice upon thy fingers' tip,
Thrice upon thy rubied lip;
Next this marble venomed seat,
Smeared with gums of glutinous heat,
I touch with chaste palms moist and cold:
Now the spell hath lost its hold.
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