_Nil canitur suavius, Nil auditur jucundius, Nil cogitatur dulcius, Quam Jesu Dei filius._ _Al._ (_aside_). They sing of Jesus, whom they make their god, 430 I understand no more: only their praise Is sweeter than whatever I have heard In mosque or sacred temple, or the chant Of holy pilgrims, that beguile the road. I’ll learn what they will tell me of their hymns, And whence they have this music. Ah, they see me. Sir, pray withdraw not thus. Step on this terrace; Hence may you view the sea. Your helpless lot I pity; and if indeed I have any power To ease the pains of your captivity, 440 ’Tis but a debt I owe you for the pleasure Your music wakes within me. Come this way. _Ch._ Lady, we thank thy grace and gentleness: But yonder grove contents us, in the shade Where if we walked retired, we shall not strain The privilege we prize. _Al._ Why, since I ask, Take courage, come. There’s none will see but I. _Ch._ We dare not disobey. _Al._ Come forward, hither. I bid you all for pleasure as my friends. And ye could much delight me, would ye tell 450 What theme ye lately sang: for though sweet music Needs no interpretation, yet the thought That gives occasion to the smile of love Is dear itself; and I am like a lover Wondering what fancy ’twas, that bred a strain Of such deliberate joy. _Ch._ Forbid the thought, Lady: the sea, with whose expansive sight Thou thoughtest to rejoice our prisoned eyes, Doth not dissever us from our lost homes With wider deeper gulf, than that which lies 460 Betwixt our souls and thine. Thou mayst not know. _Al._ I know ye sang of Jesus. _Ch._ And knowing that, Wouldst thou know more? _Al._ Ay, tell me. _Ch._ Praised be God! _Al._ I envy you your skill. I prithee tell me What was’t ye sang. _Ch._ The praise of Jesus’name. ’Tis what all nature sings; the whole creation Ceaseth not, nor is silent in his praise: Neither God’s angels, nor the spirit of man With speech directed unto him, nor things Animate nor inanimate, by the mouth 470 Of them that meditate thereon: which praise Music hath perfected, and that we use Less for his glory, than that thence our souls May from their weariness arise to him, In whom is our refreshment and true strength. _Al._ I pray you sing again. _Ch._ If thou wilt hear, We will sing more. _O Jesu mi dulcissime, O spes spirantis animæ, Te quærunt piæ lacrymæ, Et clamor mentis intimæ._ _Al._ Music ne’er found a better speech. I pray 482 Could I sing with you? Could I learn your art? _Ch._ Thou hast the master-secret, loving it.