Chapter II: Introduction (2)

_Spirit._ I'll tell ye. 'Tis not vain or fabulous
(Though so esteemed by shallow ignorance)
What the sage poets, taught by the heavenly Muse,
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.
Within the navel of this hideous wood, 520
Immured in cypress shades, a sorcerer dwells,
Of Bacchus and of Circe born, great Comus,
Deep skilled in all his mother's witcheries,
And here to every thirsty wanderer
By sly enticement gives his baneful cup,
With many murmurs mixed, whose pleasing poison
The visage quite transforms of him that drinks,
And the inglorious likeness of a beast
Fixes instead, unmoulding reason's mintage
Charáctered in the face. This have I learnt 530
Tending my flocks hard by i' the hilly crofts
That brow this bottom glade; whence night by night
He and his monstrous rout are heard to howl
Like stabled wolves, or tigers at their prey,
Doing abhorred rites to Hecate
In their obscuréd haunts of inmost bowers.
Yet have they many baits and guileful spells
To inveigle and invite the unwary sense
Of them that pass unweeting by the way.
This evening late, by then the chewing flocks 540
Had ta'en their supper on the savoury herb
Of knot-grass dew-besprent, and were in fold,
I sat me down to watch upon a bank
With ivy canopied, and interwove
With flaunting honeysuckle, and began,
Wrapt in a pleasing fit of melancholy,
To meditate my rural minstrelsy,
Till fancy had her fill. But ere a close
The wonted roar was up amidst the woods,
And filled the air with barbarous dissonance; 550
At which I ceased, and listened them awhile,
Till an unusual stop of sudden silence
Gave respite to the drowsy frighted steeds
That draw the litter of close-curtained Sleep.
At last a soft and solemn-breathing sound
Rose like a steam of rich distilled perfumes,
And stole upon the air, that even Silence
Was took ere she was ware, and wished she might
Deny her nature, and be never more,
Still to be so displaced. I was all ear, 560
And took in strains that might create a soul
Under the ribs of Death. But, oh! ere long
Too well I did perceive it was the voice
Of my most honoured Lady, your dear sister.
Amazed I stood, harrowed with grief and fear;
And "O poor hapless nightingale," thought I,
"How sweet thou sing'st, how near the deadly snare!"
Then down the lawns I ran with headlong haste,
Through paths and turnings often trod by day,
Till, guided by mine ear, I found the place 570
Where that damned wizard, hid in sly disguise
(For so by certain signs I knew), had met
Already, ere my best speed could prevent,
The aidless innocent lady, his wished prey;
Who gently asked if he had seen such two,
Supposing him some neighbour villager.
Longer I durst not stay, but soon I guessed
Ye were the two she meant; with that I sprung
Into swift flight, till I had found you here;
But further know I not.

_Second Brother._ O night and shades, 580
How are ye joined with hell in triple knot
Against the unarmed weakness of one virgin,
Alone and helpless! Is this the confidence
You gave me, brother?

_Elder Brother._ Yes, and keep it still;
Lean on it safely; not a period
Shall be unsaid for me. Against the threats
Of malice or of sorcery, or that power
Which erring men call Chance, this I hold firm:
Virtue may be assailed, but never hurt,
Surprised by unjust force, but not enthralled; 590
Yea, even that which Mischief meant most harm
Shall in the happy trial prove most glory.
But evil on itself shall back recoil,
And mix no more with goodness, when at last,
Gathered like scum, and settled to itself,
It shall be in eternal restless change
Self-fed and self-consumed. If this fail,
The pillared firmament is rottenness,
And earth's base built on stubble. But come, let's on!
Against the opposing will and arm of Heaven 600
May never this just sword be lifted up;
But, for that damned magician, let him be girt
With all the grisly legions that troop
Under the sooty flag of Acheron,
Harpies and Hydras, or all the monstrous forms
'Twixt Africa and Ind, I'll find him out,
And force him to return his purchase back,
Or drag him by the curls to a foul death,
Cursed as his life.

_Spirit._ Alas! good venturous youth,
I love thy courage yet, and bold emprise; 610
But here thy sword can do thee little stead.
Far other arms and other weapons must
Be those that quell the might of hellish charms.
He with his bare wand can unthread thy joints,
And crumble all thy sinews.

_Elder Brother._ Why, prithee, Shepherd,
How durst thou then thyself approach so near
As to make this relation?

_Spirit._ Care and utmost shifts
How to secure the Lady from surprisal
Brought to my mind a certain shepherd lad,
Of small regard to see to, yet well skilled 620
In every virtuous plant and healing herb
That spreads her verdant leaf to the morning ray.
He loved me well, and oft would beg me sing;
Which when I did, he on the tender grass
Would sit, and hearken even to ecstasy,
And in requital ope his leathern scrip,
And show me simples of a thousand names,
Telling their strange and vigorous faculties.
Amongst the rest a small unsightly root,
But of divine effect, he culled me out. 630
The leaf was darkish, and had prickles on it,
But in another country, as he said,
Bore a bright golden flower, but not in this soil:
Unknown, 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._

_Comus._ Nay, lady, sit. If I but wave this wand,
Your nerves are all chained up in alabaster, 660
And you a statue, or as Daphne was,
Root-bound, that fled Apollo.

_Lady._ Fool, do not boast.
Thou canst not touch the freedom of my mind
With all thy charms, although this corporal rind
Thou hast immanacled while Heaven sees good.

_Comus._ Why are you vexed, lady? why do you frown?
Here dwell no frowns, nor anger; from these gates
Sorrow flies far. See, here be all the pleasures
That fancy can beget on youthful thoughts,
When the fresh blood grows lively, and returns 670
Brisk as the April buds in primrose season.
And first behold this cordial julep here,
That flames and dances in his crystal bounds,
With spirits of balm and fragrant syrups mixed.
Not that Nepenthes which the wife of Thone
In Egypt gave to Jove-born Helena
Is of such power to stir up joy as this,
To life so friendly, or so cool to thirst.
Why should you be so cruel to yourself,
And to those dainty limbs, which Nature lent 680
For gentle usage and soft delicacy?
But you invert the covenants of her trust,
And harshly deal, like an ill borrower,
With that which you received on other terms,
Scorning the unexempt condition
By which all mortal frailty must subsist,
Refreshment after toil, ease after pain,
That have been tired all day without repast,
And timely rest have wanted. But, fair virgin,
This will restore all soon.

_Lady._ 'Twill not, false traitor! 690
'Twill not restore the truth and honesty
That thou hast banished from thy tongue with lies.
Was this the cottage and the safe abode
Thou told'st me of? What grim aspects are these,
These oughly-headed monsters? Mercy guard me!
Hence with thy brewed enchantments, foul deceiver!
Hast thou betrayed my credulous innocence
With vizored falsehood and base forgery?
And would'st thou seek again to trap me here
With liquorish baits, fit to ensnare a brute? 700
Were it a draught for Juno when she banquets,
I would not taste thy treasonous offer. None
But such as are good men can give good things;
And that which is not good is not delicious
To a well-governed and wise appetite.

_Comus._ O foolishness of men! that lend their ears
To those budge doctors of the Stoic fur,
And fetch their precepts from the Cynic tub,
Praising the lean and sallow Abstinence!
Wherefore did Nature pour her bounties forth 710
With such a full and unwithdrawing hand,
Covering the earth with odours, fruits, and flocks,
Thronging the seas with spawn innumerable,
But all to please and sate the curious taste?
And set to work millions of spinning worms,
That in their green shops weave the smooth-haired silk,
To deck her sons; and, that no corner might
Be vacant of her plenty, in her own loins
She hutched the all-worshipped ore and precious gems,
To store her children with. If all the world 720
Should, in a pet of temperance, feed on pulse,
Drink the clear stream, and nothing wear but frieze,
The All-giver would be unthanked, would be unpraised,
Not half his riches known, and yet despised;
And we should serve him as a grudging master,
As a penurious niggard of his wealth,
And live like Nature's bastards, not her sons,
Who would be quite surcharged with her own weight,
And strangled with her waste fertility:
The earth cumbered, and the winged air darked with plumes, 730
The herds would over-multitude their lords;
The sea o'erfraught would swell, and the unsought diamonds
Would so emblaze the forehead of the deep,
And so bestud with stars, that they below
Would grow inured to light, and come at last
To gaze upon the sun with shameless brows.
List, lady; be not coy, and be not cozened
With that same vaunted name, Virginity.
Beauty is Nature's coin; must not be hoarded,
But must be current; and the good thereof 740
Consists in mutual and partaken bliss,
Unsavoury in the enjoyment of itself.
If you let slip time, like a neglected rose
It withers on the stalk with languished head.
Beauty is Nature's brag, and must be shown
In courts, at feasts, and high solemnities,
Where most may wonder at the workmanship.
It is for homely features to keep home;
They had their name thence: coarse complexions
And cheeks of sorry grain will serve to ply 750
The sampler, and to tease the huswife's wool.
What need of vermeil-tinctured lip for that,
Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the morn?
There was another meaning in these gifts;
Think what, and be advised; you are but young yet.

_Lady._ I had not thought to have unlocked my lips
In this unhallowed air, but that this juggler
Would think to charm my judgment, as mine eyes,
Obtruding false rules pranked in reason's garb.
I hate when vice can bolt her arguments 760
And virtue has no tongue to check her pride.
Impostor! do not charge most innocent Nature,
As if she would her children should be riotous
With her abundance. She, good cateress,
Means her provision only to the good,
That live according to her sober laws,
And holy dictate of spare Temperance.
If every just man that now pines with want
Had but a moderate and beseeming share
Of that which lewdly-pampered Luxury 770
Now heaps upon some few with vast excess,
Nature's full blessings would be well dispensed
In unsuperfluous even proportions,
And she no whit encumbered with her store;
And then the Giver would be better thanked,
His praise due paid: for swinish gluttony
Ne'er looks to Heaven amidst his gorgeous feast,
But with besotted base ingratitude
Crams, and blasphemes his Feeder. Shall I go on?
Or have I said enow? To him that dares 780
Arm his profane tongue with contemptuous words
Against the sun-clad power of chastity
Fain would I something say;--yet to what end?
Thou hast nor ear, nor soul, to apprehend
The sublime notion and high mystery
That must be uttered to unfold the sage
And serious doctrine of Virginity;
And thou art worthy that thou shouldst not know
More happiness than this thy present lot.
Enjoy your dear wit, and gay rhetoric, 790
That hath so well been taught her dazzling fence;
Thou art not fit to hear thyself convinced.
Yet, should I try, the uncontrollèd worth
Of this pure cause would kindle my rapt spirits
To such a flame of sacred vehemence
That dumb things would be moved to sympathise,
And the brute Earth would lend her nerves, and shake,
Till all thy magic structures, reared so high,
Were shattered into heaps o'er thy false head.

_Comus._ She fables not. I feel that I do fear 800
Her words set off by some superior power;
And, though not mortal, yet a cold shuddering dew
Dips me all o'er, as when the wrath of Jove
Speaks thunder and the chains of Erebus
To some of Saturn's crew. I must dissemble,
And try her yet more strongly.--Come, no more!
This is mere moral babble, and direct
Against the canon laws of our foundation.
I must not suffer this; yet 'tis but the lees
And settlings of a melancholy blood. 810

But this will cure all straight; one sip of this
Will bathe the drooping spirits in delight
Beyond the bliss of dreams. Be wise, and taste.

_The BROTHERS rush in with swords drawn, wrest his glass out of his hand, and break it against the ground: his rout make sign of resistance, but are all driven in. The ATTENDANT SPIRIT comes in._

_Spirit._ What! have you let the false enchanter scape?
O ye mistook; ye should have snatched his wand,
And bound him fast. Without his rod reversed,
And backward mutters of dissevering power,
We cannot free the Lady that sits here
In stony fetters fixed and motionless.
Yet stay: be not disturbed; now I bethink me, 820
Some other means I have which may be used,
Which once of Meliboeus old I learnt,
The soothest shepherd that e'er piped on plains.
There is a gentle nymph not far from hence,
That with moist curb sways the smooth Severn stream:
Sabrina is her name: a virgin pure;
Whilom she was the daughter of Locrine,
That had the sceptre from his father Brute.
She, guiltless damsel, flying the mad pursuit
Of her enragéd stepdame, Guendolen, 830
Commended her fair innocence to the flood
That stayed her flight with his cross-flowing course.
The water-nymphs, that in the bottom played,
Held up their pearled wrists, and took her in,
Bearing her straight to aged Nereus' hall;
Who, piteous of her woes, reared her lank head,
And gave her to his daughters to imbathe
In nectared lavers strewed with asphodel,
And through the porch and inlet of each sense
Dropt in ambrosial oils, till she revived, 840
And underwent a quick immortal change,
Made Goddess of the river. Still she retains
Her maiden gentleness, and oft at eve
Visits the herds along the twilight meadows,
Helping all urchin blasts, and ill-luck signs
That the shrewd meddling elf delights to make,
Which she with precious vialed liquors heals:
For which the shepherds, at their festivals,
Carol her goodness loud in rustic lays,
And throw sweet garland wreaths into her stream 850
Of pansies, pinks, and gaudy daffodils.
And, as the old swain said, she can unlock
The clasping charm, and thaw the numbing spell,
If she be right invoked in warbled song;
For maidenhood she loves, and will be swift
To aid a virgin, such as was herself,
In hard-besetting need. This will I try,
And add the power of some adjuring verse.

_Song._

Sabrina fair,
Listen where thou art sitting 860
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!

Listen, and appear to us,
In name of great Oceanus.
By the earth-shaking Neptune's mace,
And Tethys' grave majestic pace; 870
By hoary Nereus' wrinkled look,
And the Carpathian wizard's hook;
By scaly Triton's winding shell,
And old soothsaying Glaucus' spell;
By Leucothea's lovely hands,
And her son that rules the strands;
By Thetis' tinsel-slippered feet,
And the songs of Sirens sweet;
By dead Parthenope's dear tomb,
And fair Ligea's golden comb, 880
Wherewith she sits on diamond rocks
Sleeking her soft alluring locks;
By all the Nymphs that nightly dance
Upon thy streams with wily glance;
Rise, rise, and heave thy rosy head
From thy coral-paven bed,
And bridle in thy headlong wave,
Till thou our summons answered have.
Listen and save!

_SABRINA rises, attended by Water-nymphs, and sings._

By the rushy-fringéd bank, 890
Where grows the willow and the osier dank,
My sliding chariot stays,
Thick set with agate, and the azurn sheen
Of turkis blue, and emerald green,
That in the channel strays;
Whilst from off the waters fleet
Thus I set my printless feet
O'er the cowslip's velvet head,
That bends not as I tread.
Gentle swain, at thy request 900
I am here!

_Spirit._ Goddess dear,
We implore thy powerful hand
To undo the charméd band
Of true virgin here distressed
Through the force and through the wile
Of unblessed enchanter vile.

_Sabrina._ Shepherd, 'tis my office best
To help ensnared chastity.
Brightest Lady, look on me. 910
Thus I sprinkle on thy breast
Drops that from my fountain pure
I have kept of precious cure;
Thrice upon thy finger's 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 his hold;
And I must haste ere morning hour 920
To wait in Amphitrite's bower.

_SABRINA descends, and the LADY rises out of her seat._

_Spirit._ Virgin, daughter of Locrine,
Sprung of old Anchises' line,
May thy brimméd waves for this
Their full tribute never miss
From a thousand petty rills,
That tumble down the snowy hills:
Summer drouth or singéd air
Never scorch thy tresses fair,
Nor wet October's torrent flood 930
Thy molten crystal fill with mud;
May thy billows roll ashore
The beryl and the golden ore;
May thy lofty head be crowned
With many a tower and terrace round,
And here and there thy banks upon
With groves of myrrh and cinnamon.
Come, Lady; while Heaven lends us grace,
Let us fly this curséd place,
Lest the sorcerer us entice 940
With some other new device.
Not a waste or needless sound
Till we come to holier ground.
I shall be your faithful guide
Through this gloomy covert wide;
And not many furlongs thence
Is your Father's residence,
Where this night are met in state
Many a friend to gratulate
His wished presence, and beside 950
All the swains that there abide
With jigs and rural dance resort.
We shall catch them at their sport,
And our sudden coming there
Will double all their mirth and cheer.
Come, let us haste; the stars grow high,
But Night sits monarch yet in the mid sky.

_The Scene changes, presenting Ludlow Town, and the President's Castle; then come in Country Dancers; after them the ATTENDANT SPIRIT, with the Two BROTHERS and the LADY._

_Song._

_Spirit._ Back, shepherds, back! Enough your play
Till next sunshine holiday.
Here be, without duck or nod, 960
Other trippings to be trod
Of lighter toes, and such court guise
As Mercury did first devise
With the mincing Dryades
On the lawns and on the leas.

_This second Song presents them to their Father and Mother._

Noble Lord and Lady bright,
I have brought ye new delight.
Here behold so goodly grown
Three fair branches of your own.
Heaven hath timely tried their youth, 970
Their faith, their patience, and their truth,
And sent them here through hard assays
With a crown of deathless praise,
To triumph in victorious dance
O'er sensual folly and intemperance.

_The dances ended, the SPIRIT epiloguizes._

_Spirit._ To the ocean now I fly,
And those happy climes that lie
Where day never shuts his eye,
Up in the broad fields of the sky.
There I suck the liquid air, 980
All amidst the gardens fair
Of Hesperus, and his daughters three
That sing about the golden tree.
Along the crispéd shades and bowers
Revels the spruce and jocund Spring;
The Graces and the rosy-bosomed Hours
Thither all their bounties bring.
There eternal Summer dwells,
And west winds with musky wing
About the cedarn alleys fling 990
Nard and cassia's balmy smells.
Iris there with humid bow
Waters the odorous banks, that blow
Flowers of more mingled hue
Than her purfled scarf can shew,
And drenches with Elysian dew
(List, mortals, if your ears be true)
Beds of hyacinth and roses,
Where young Adonis oft reposes,
Waxing well of his deep wound, 1000
In slumber soft, and on the ground
Sadly sits the Assyrian queen.
But far above, in spangled sheen,
Celestial Cupid, her famed son, advanced
Holds his dear Psyche, sweet entranced
After her wandering labours long,
Till free consent the gods among
Make her his eternal bride,
And from her fair unspotted side
Two blissful twins are to be born, 1010
Youth and Joy; so Jove hath sworn.
But now my task is smoothly done,
I can fly, or I can run
Quickly to the green earth's end,
Where the bowed welkin slow doth bend,
And from thence can soar as soon
To the corners of the moon.
Mortals, that would follow me,
Love Virtue; she alone is free.
She can teach ye how to climb 1020
Higher than the sphery chime;
Or, if Virtue feeble were,
Heaven itself would stoop to her.

NOTES.

~discovers~, exhibits, displays. The usual sense of 'discover' is to find out or make known, but in Milton and Shakespeare the prefix _dis-_ has often the more purely negative force of _un-_: hence discover = uncover, reveal. Comp.--

"Some high-climbing hill
Which to his eye _discovers_ unaware
The goodly prospect of some foreign land."

_Par. Lost_, iii. 546.

~Attendant Spirit descends~. The part of the attendant spirit was taken by Lawes (see Introduction), who, in his prologue or opening speech, explains who he is and on what errand he has been sent, hints at the plot of the whole masque, and at the same time compliments the Earl in whose honour the masque is being given (lines 30-36). In the ancient classical drama the prologue was sometimes an outline of the plot, sometimes an address to the audience, and sometimes introductory to the plot. The opening of _Comus_ prepares the audience and also directly addresses it (line 43). For the form of the epilogue in the actual performance of the masque see note, l. 975-6.

1. ~starry threshold~, etc. Comp. Virgil: "The sire of gods and monarch of men summons a council to the starry chamber" (_sideream in sedem_), _Aen._ x. 2.

2. ~mansion~, abode. Trench points out that this word denotes strictly "a place of tarrying," which might be for a longer or a shorter time: hence 'a resting-place.' Comp. _John_, xiv. 2, "In my Father's house are many _mansions_"; and _Il Pens._ 93, "Her _mansion_ in this fleshly nook." The word has now lost the notion of tarrying, and is applied to a large and important dwelling-house. ~where~, in which: the antecedent is separated from the relative, a frequent construction in Milton (comp. lines 66, 821, etc.). So in Latin, where the grammatical connection would generally be sufficiently indicated by the inflection. ~shapes ... spirits~. An instance of the manner in which Milton endows spiritual beings with personality without making them too distinct. "Of all the poets who have introduced into their works the agency of supernatural beings Milton has succeeded best" (Macaulay). We see this in _Par. Lost_ (_e.g._ ii. 666). Compare the use of the word 'shape' (Lat. _umbra_) in l. 207: also _L'Alleg._ 4, "horrid _shapes_ and shrieks"; and _Il Pens._ 6, "fancies fond with gaudy _shapes_ possess." Milton's use of the demonstrative ~those~ in this line is noteworthy; comp. "_that_ last infirmity of noble mind," _Lyc._ 71: it implies that the reference is to something well known, and that further particularisation is needless.

3. ~insphered~. 'Sphere,' with its derivatives 'sphery,' 'insphere,' and 'unsphere' (_Il Pens._ 88), is used by Milton with a literal reference to the cosmical framework as a whole (see _Hymn Nat._ 48) or to some portion of it. In Shakespeare 'sphere' occurs in the wider sense of 'the path in which anything moves,' and it is to this metaphorical use of the word that we owe such phrases as 'a person's sphere of life,' 'sphere of action,' etc. See also _Comus_, 112-4, 241-3, 1021; _Arc._ 62-7; _Par. Lost_, v. 618; where there are references to the music of the spheres.

4. ~mild~: an attributive of the whole clause, 'regions of calm and serene air.' ~calm and serene~. These are not mere synonyms: the Lat. _serenus_ = bright or unclouded, so that the two epithets are to be respectively contrasted with 'smoke' and 'stir' (line 5); 'calm' being opposed to 'stir' and 'serene' to 'smoke.' Compare Homer's description of the seat of the gods: "Not by wind is it shaken, nor ever wet with rain, nor doth the snow come nigh thereto, but _most clear_ air is spread about it _cloudless_, and the white light floats over it," _Odyssey_, vi.: comp. note, l. 977.

5. ~this dim spot~. The Spirit describes the Earth as it appears to those immortal shapes whose presence he has just quitted.

6. There are here two attributive clauses: "which men call Earth" and "(in which) men strive," etc. ~low-thoughted care~; narrow-minded anxiety, care about earthly things. Comp. the form of the adjective 'low-browed,' _L'Alleg._ 8: both epithets are borrowed by Pope in his _Eloisa_.

7. This line is attributive to 'men.' ~pestered ... pinfold~, crowded together in this cramped space, the Earth. _Pester_, which has no connection with _pest_, is a shortened form of _impester_, Fr. _empêtrer_, to shackle a horse by the foot when it is at pasture. The radical sense is that of clogging (comp. _Son._ xii. 1); hence of crowding; and finally of annoyance or encumbrance of any kind. 'Pinfold' is strictly an enclosure in which stray cattle are _pounded_ or shut up: etymologically, the word = _pind-fold_, a corruption of _pound-fold_. Comp. _impound_, sheep-_fold_, etc.

8. ~frail and feverish~. Comp. "life's fitful fever" (_Macbeth_, iii. 2. 23). This line, like several of the adjacent ones, is alliterative.

9. ~crown that Virtue gives~. This is Scriptural language: comp. _Rev._ iv. 4; 2 _Tim._ iv. 8, "Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness."

10. ~this mortal change~. In Milton's MS. line 7 was followed by the words, 'beyond the written date of mortal change,' _i.e._ beyond, or after, man's appointed time to die. These words were struck out, but we may suppose that the words 'mortal change' in line 10 have a similar meaning. Milton frequently uses 'mortal' in the sense of 'liable to death,' and hence 'human' as opposed to 'divine': the mortal change is therefore 'the change which occurs to all human beings.' Comp. _Job_, xiv. 14: "all the days of my appointed time will I wait, till my _change_ come": see also line 841. Prof. Masson takes it to mean 'this mortal state of life,' as distinguished from a future state of immortality. The Spirit uses 'this' as in line 8, in contrast with 'those,' line 2.

11. ~enthroned gods~, etc. In allusion to _Rev._ iv. 4, "And upon the thrones I saw four and twenty elders sitting, arrayed in white garments; and on their heads crowns of gold." Milton frequently speaks of the inhabitants of heaven as _enthroned_. The accent here falls on the first syllable of the word.

12. ~Yet some there be~, etc.: 'Although men are generally so exclusively occupied with the cares of this life, there are nevertheless a few who aspire,' etc. _Be_ is here purely indicative. This usage is frequent in Elizabethan English, and still survives in parts of England. Comp. _Lines on Univ. Carrier_, ii. 25, where it occurs in a similar phrase, "there be that say 't": also lines 519, 668. It is employed to refer to a number of persons or things, regarded as a class. ~by due steps~, _i.e._ by the steps that are due or appointed: comp. '_due_ feet,' _Il Pens._ 155. _Due_, _duty_, and _debt_ are all from Lat. _debitus_, owed.

13. ~their just hands~. 'Just' belongs to the predicate: 'to lay their just hands' = to lay their hands with justice. ~golden key~. Comp. _Matt._ xvi. 19, "I will give unto thee the _keys_ of the kingdom of heaven"; also _Lyc._ 111:

"Two massy keys he bore of metals twain
(The _golden_ opes, the iron shuts amain)."

15. ~errand~: comp. _Par. Lost_, iii. 652, "One of the seven Who in God's presence, nearest to his throne, Stand ready at command, and are his eyes That run through all the Heavens, or down to the Earth Bear his swift _errands_": also vii. 579. ~but for such~, _i.e._ unless it were for such.

16. 'I would not sully the purity of my heavenly garments with the noisome vapour of this sin-corrupted earth.' ~ambrosial~, heavenly; also used by Milton in the sense of 'conferring immortality': comp. l. 840; _Par. Lost_, ii. 245; iv. 219, "blooming _ambrosial_ fruit." 'Ambrosial,' like 'amaranthus' (_Lyc._ 149), is cognate with the Sanskrit _amríta_, undying; and is applied by Homer to the hair of the gods: similarly in Tennyson's _Oenone_, 174: see also _In Memoriam_, lxxxvi. Ben Jonson (_Neptune's Triumph_) has 'ambrosian hands,' _i.e._ hands fit for a deity. Ambrosia was the food of the gods. ~weeds~: now used chiefly in the phrase "widow's weeds," _i.e._ mourning garment. Milton and Shakespeare use it in the general sense of garment or covering: in the lines _On the Death of a Fair Infant_, it is applied to the human body itself; comp. also _M. N. D._ ii. 1. 255, "_Weed_ wide enough to wrap a fairy in." See also _Comus_, 189, 390.

18. ~But to my task~, _i.e._ but I must proceed to my task: see l. 1012.

19. ~every ... each~. It is usual to write _every ... every_, or _each ... each_, but Milton occasionally uses 'every' and 'each' together: comp. l. 311 and _Lyc._ 93, "_every_ gust ... off _each_ beaked promontory." _Every_ denotes each without exception, and can now only be used with reference to more than two objects; _each_ may refer to two or more.

20. ~by lot~, etc. When Saturn (Kronos) was dethroned, his empire of the universe was distributed amongst his three sons, Jupiter ('high' Jove), Neptune (the god of the Sea), and Pluto ('nether' or Stygian Jove). In _Iliad_ xv. Neptune (Poseidon) says: "For three brethren are we, and sons of Kronos, whom Rhea bare ... And in three lots are all things divided, and each drew a domain of his own, and to me fell the hoary sea, to be my habitation for ever, when we shook the lots." ~nether~, lower: comp. the phrase 'the upper and the nether lip,' and the name Netherlands. Hell, the abode of Pluto, is called by Milton 'the nether empire' (_Par. Lost_, ii. 295). The form _nethermost_ (_Par. Lost_, ii. 955) is, like _aftermost_ and _foremost_, a double superlative.

21. ~sea-girt isles~. Ben Jonson calls Britain a 'sea-girt isle': comp. l. 27. _Isle_ is the M.E. _ile_, in which form the _s_ has been dropped: it is from O.F. _isle_, Lat. _insula_. It is therefore distinct from _island_, where an _s_ has, by confusion, been inserted. Island = M.E. _iland_, A.S. _igland_ (_ig_ = island: _land_ = land). In line 50 Milton wrote 'iland.'

22. ~like to rich and various gems~, etc. Shakespeare describes England as a 'precious stone set in the silver sea,' _Richard II._ ii. 1. 46: he also speaks of Heaven as being _inlayed_ with stars, _Cym._ v. 5. 352; _M. of V._ v. 1. 59, "Look how the floor of heaven Is thick _inlaid_ with patines of bright gold." Compare also _Par. Lost_, iv. 700, where Milton refers to the ground as having a rich _inlay_ of flowers. But for its inlay of islands the sea would be bare or unadorned. ~like~: here followed by the preposition _to_, and having its proper force as an adjective: comp. _Il Pens._ 9. Whether _like_ is used as an adjective or an adverb, the preposition is now usually omitted: comp. l. 57.

24. ~to grace~, _i.e._ to show favour to: a clause of purpose.

25. ~By course commits~, etc., _i.e._ "In regular distribution he commits to each his distinct government." ~several~: separate or distinct. Radically _several_ is from the verb _sever_: it is now used only with plural nouns.

26. ~sapphire~. This colour is again associated with the sea in line 29: see note there.

27. ~little tridents~, in contrast with that of Neptune, who, "with his trident touched the stars" (_Neptune's Triumph, Proteus' Song_, Ben Jonson).

28. ~greatest and the best~. Comp. Shakespeare's eulogy in _Rich. II._ ii. 1: also Ben Jonson's "Albion, Prince of all his Isles," _Neptune's Triumph, Apollo's Song_.

29. ~quarters~, divides into distinct regions. Comp. Dryden, _Georg. I._ 208:

"Sailors _quarter'd_ Heaven, and found a name
For every fixt and ev'ry wandering star."

Some would take the word as strictly denoting division into _four_ parts: "at that time the island was actually divided into four separate governments: for besides those at London and Edinburgh, there were Lords President of the North and of Wales." (Keightley). ~blue-haired deities~. These must be distinct from the tributary gods who wield their little tridents (line 27), otherwise the thought would ill accord with the complimentary nature of lines 30-36. Regarding the epithet 'blue-haired' Masson asks: "Can there be a recollection of blue as the British colour, inherited from the old times of blue-stained Britons who fought with Caesar? Green-haired is the usual epithet for Neptune and his subordinates": in Spenser, for example, the sea-nymphs have long green hair. But Ovid expressly calls the sea-deities _caerulei dii_, and Neptune _caeruleus deus_, thus associating blue with the sea.

30. 'And all this region that looks towards the West (_i.e._ Wales) is entrusted to a noble peer of great integrity and power.' The peer referred to is the Earl of Bridgewater. As Lord President he was entrusted with the civil and military administration of Wales and the four English counties of Gloucester, Worcester, Hereford, and Shropshire. That he was a nobleman of high character is shown by the fact that from 1617, when he was nominated one of "his Majestie's Counsellors," he had continued to serve in various important public and private offices. On his monument there is the following: "He was a profound Scholar, an able Statesman, and a good Christian: he was a dutiful Son to his Mother the Church of England in her persecution, as well as in her great splendour; a loyal Subject to his Sovereign in those worst of times, when it was accounted treason not to be a traitor. As he lived 70 years a pattern of virtue, so he died an example of patience and piety." ~falling sun~: Lat. _sol occidens_. Orient and occident (lit. 'rising' and 'falling') are frequently used to denote the East and the West.

31. ~mickle~ (A.S. _micel_) great. From this word comes _much_. 'Mickle' and 'muckle' are current in Scotland in the sense of great. Comp. _Rom. and Jul._ ii. 3. 15, "O, _mickle_ is the powerful grace that lies In herbs," etc.

33. ~An old and haughty nation~. The Welsh are Kelts, an Aryan people who probably first entered Britain about B.C. 500: they are therefore rightly spoken of as an old nation. Compare Ben Jonson's piece _For the Honour of Wales_:

"I is not come here to taulk of Brut,
From whence the Welse does take his root," etc.

That they were haughty and 'proud in arms' the Romans found, and after them the Saxons: the latter never really held more than the counties of Monmouth and Hereford. In the reign of Edward I. attempts were made by that king to induce the Welsh to come to terms, but the answer of the Barons was: "We dare not submit to Edward, nor will we suffer our prince to do so, nor do homage to strangers, whose tongue, ways and laws we know not of: we have only raised war in defence of our lands, laws and rights." By a statute of Henry VIII. this 'haughty' people were put in possession of the same rights and liberties as the English. ~proud in arms~: this is Virgil's _belloque superbum_, _Aen._ i. 21 (Warton).

34. ~nursed in princely lore~, brought up in a manner worthy of their high position. It is to be noted that the Bridgewater family was by birth distantly connected with the royal family. Milton may allude merely to their connection with the court. _Lore_ is cognate with _learn_.

35. ~their father's state~. This probably refers to the actual ceremonies connected with the installation of the Earl as Lord President. The old sense of 'state' is 'chair of state': comp. _Arc._ 81, and Jonson's _Hymenaei_, "And see where Juno ... Displays her glittering _state and chair_."

36. ~new-intrusted~, an adjective compounded of a participle and a simple adverb, _new_ being = newly; comp. 'smooth-dittied,' l. 86. Contrast the form of the epithet "blue-haired," where the compound adjective is formed as if from a noun, "blue-hair": comp. "rushy-fringed," l. 890. Strictly speaking, the Earl's power was not 'new-intrusted,' though it was newly assumed. See Introduction.

37. ~perplexed~, interwoven, entangled (Lat. _plecto_, to plait or twist). The word is here used literally and is therefore applicable to inanimate objects. The accent is on the first syllable.

38. ~horror~. This word is meant not merely to indicate terror, but also to describe the appearance of the paths. Horror is from Lat. _horrere_, to bristle, and may be rendered 'shagginess' or 'ruggedness,' just as _horrid_, l. 429, means bristling or rugged. Comp. _Par. Lost_, i. 563, "a _horrid_ front Of dreadful length, and dazzling arms." ~shady brows~: this may refer to the trees and bushes overhanging the paths, as the brow overhangs the eyes.

39. ~Threats~: not current as a verb. ~forlorn~, now used only as an adjective, is the past participle of the old verb _forleosen_, to lose utterly: the prefix _for_ has an intensive force, as in _forswear_; but in the latter word the sense of _from_ is more fully preserved in the prefix. See note, l. 234.

40. ~tender age~. Lady Alice Egerton was about fourteen years of age; the two brothers were younger than she.

41. ~But that~, etc. Grammatically, _but_ may be regarded as a subordinative conjunction = 'unless (it had happened) that I was despatched': or, taking it in its original prepositional sense, we may regard it as governing the substantive clause, 'that ... guard.' ~quick command~: the adjective has the force of an adverb, quick commands being commands that are to be carried quickly. ~sovran~, supreme. This is Milton's spelling of the modern word _sovereign_, in which the _g_ is due to the mistaken notion that the last syllable of the word is cognate with _reign_. The word is from Lat. _superanum_ = chief: comp. l. 639.

43. ~And listen why~; _sc._ 'I was despatched.' The language of lines 43, 44 is suggested by Horace's _Odes_, iii. 1, 2: "Favete linguis; carmina non prius Audita ... canto." The poet implies that the plot of his mask is original: it is not (he says) to be found in any ancient or modern song or tale that was ever recited either in the 'hall' (= banqueting-hall) or in the 'bower' (= private chamber). Or 'hall' and 'bower' may denote respectively the room of the lord and that of his lady.

46. Milton in his usual significant manner (comp. _L'Allegro_ and _Il Penseroso_), proceeds to invent a genealogy for Comus. The mask is designed to celebrate the victory of Purity and Reason over Desire and Enchantment. Comus, who represents the latter, must therefore spring from parents representing the pleasure of man's lower nature and the misuse of man's higher powers on behalf of falsehood and impurity. These parents are the wine-god Bacchus and the sorceress Circe. The former, mated with Love, is the father of Mirth (see _L'Allegro_); but, mated with the cunning Circe, his offspring is a voluptuary whose gay exterior and flattering speech hide his dangerously seductive and magical powers. He bears no resemblance, therefore, to Comus as represented in Ben Jonson's _Pleasure reconciled to Virtue_, in which mask "Comus" and "The Belly" are throughout synonymous. In the _Agamemnon_ of Aeschylus, Comus is a "drinker of human blood"; in Philostratus, he is a rose-crowned wine-bibber; in Dekker he is "the clerk of gluttony's kitchen"; in Massinger he is "the god of pleasure"; and in the work of Erycius Puteanus he is a graceful reveller, the genius of love and cheerfulness. Prof. Masson says, "Milton's _Comus_ is a creation of his own, for which he was as little indebted intrinsically to Puteanus as to Ben Jonson. For the purpose of his masque at Ludlow Castle he was bold enough to add a brand-new god, no less, to the classic Pantheon, and to import him into Britain." ~Bacchus~, the god who taught men the preparation of wine. He is the Greek Dionysus, who, on one of his voyages, hired a vessel belonging to some Tyrrhenian pirates: these men resolved to sell him as a slave. Thereupon, he changed the mast and oars of the ship into serpents and the sailors into dolphins. The meeting of Bacchus with Circe is Milton's own invention; in the _Odyssey_ it is Ulysses who lights upon her island: "And we came to the isle Ææan, where dwelt Circe of the braided tresses, an awful goddess of mortal speech, own sister to the wizard Æetes," _Odys._ x. ~from out~, etc. Comp. _Par. Lost_, v. 345. 'From out' has the same force as the more common 'out from.'

47. ~misusèd~, abused. The prefix _mis-_ was very generally used by Milton; _e.g._ _mislike_, _misdeem_, _miscreated_, _misthought_ (all obsolete).

48. ~After the Tuscan mariners transformed~, _i.e._ after the transformation of the Tuscan mariners (see Ovid, _Met._ iii.). They are called Tuscan, because Tyrrhenia in Central Italy was named Etruria or Tuscia by the Romans: Etruria includes modern Tuscany. This grammatical construction is common in Latin; a passive participle combined with a substantive answering to an English verbal or abstract noun connected with another noun by the preposition _of_, and used to denote a fact in the past; _e.g._ "since created man" (_P. L._ i. 573) = since the creation of man: "this loss recovered" (_P. L._ ii. 21) = the recovery of this loss.

49. ~as the winds listed~; at the pleasure of the winds: comp. _John_, iii. 8, "the wind bloweth where it _listeth_"; _Lyc._ 123. The verb _list_ is, in older English, generally used impersonally, and in Chaucer we find 'if thee lust' or 'if thee list' = if it please thee. The word survives in the adjective _listless_ of which the older form was _lustless_: the noun _lust_ has lost its original and wider sense (which it still has in German), and now signifies 'longing desire.'

50. ~On Circe's island fell~. Circe's island = Aeaea, off the coast of Latium. Circe was the daughter of Helios (the Sun) by the ocean-nymph Perse. On 'island,' see note, l. 21; and with this use of the verb _fall_ comp. the Latin _incidere in_. The sudden introduction of the interrogative clause in this line is an example of the figure of speech called anadiplosis.

51. ~charmèd cup~, _i.e._ liquor that has been _charmed_ or rendered magical. _Charms_ are incantations or magic verses (Lat. _carmina_): comp. lines 526 and 817. Grammatically, 'cup' is the object of 'tasted.'

52. ~Whoever tasted lost~, _i.e._ who tasted (he) lost. In this construction _whoever_ must precede both verbs; Shakespeare frequently uses _who_ in this sense, and Milton occasionally: comp. _Son._ xii. 12, "_who_ loves that must first be wise and good." See Abbott, § 251. ~lost his upright shape~. In _Odyssey_ x. we read: "So Circe led them (followers of Ulysses) in and set them upon chairs and high seats, and made them a mess of cheese and barley-meal and yellow honey with Pramnian wine, and mixed harmful drugs with the food to make them utterly forget their own country. Now when she had given them the cup and they had drunk it off, presently she smote them with a wand, and in the styes of the swine she penned them. So they had the head and voice, the bristles and the shape of swine, but their mind abode even as of old. Thus were they penned there weeping, and Circe flung them acorns and mast and fruit of the cornel tree to eat, whereon wallowing swine do always batten." (_Butcher and Lang's translation._)

54. ~clustering locks~: comp. l. 608. Milton here pictures the Theban Bacchus, a type of manly beauty, having his head crowned with a wreath of vine and ivy: both of these plants were sacred to the god. Comp. _L'Alleg._ 16, "ivy-crowned Bacchus"; _Par. Lost_, iv. 303; _Sams. Agon._ 569.

55. ~his blithe youth~, _i.e._ his fresh young figure.

57. 'A son much like his father, but more like his mother.' This may indicate that it is upon Comus's character as a sorcerer rather than as a reveller that the story of the mask depends. Comp. _Masque of Hymen_:

"Much of the father's face,
More of the mother's grace."

58. ~Comus~: see note, l. 46. The Greek word +kômos+ denoted a revel or merry-making; afterwards it came to mean the personification of riotous mirth, the god of Revel. Hence also the word _comedy_. In classical mythology the individuality of Comus is not well defined: this enabled Milton more readily to endow him with entirely new characteristics.

59. ~frolic~: an instance of the original use of the word as an adjective; comp. _L'Alleg._ 18, "frolic wind"; Tennyson's _Ulysses_, "a frolic welcome." It is now chiefly used as a noun or a verb, and a new adjective, _frolicsome_, has taken its place; from this, again, comes the noun _frolicsomeness_. _Frolic_ is from the Dutch, and cognate with German _fröhlich_, so that _lic_ in 'frolic' corresponds to _ly_ in such words as cleanly, godly, etc. ~of~: this use of the preposition may be compared with the Latin genitive in such phrases as _æger animi_ = sick of soul; of = 'because of' or 'in respect of.'

60. ~Roving the Celtic and Iberian fields~, _i.e._ roving through Gaul and Spain. 'Rove' here governs an accusative: comp. _Lyc._ 173, "walked the waves"; _Par. Lost_, i. 521, "roamed the utmost Isles."

61. ~betakes him~. The pronoun has here a reflective force: in Elizabethan English, and still more often in Early English, this use of the simple pronouns is common (see Abbott, § 223). Compare l. 163. ~ominous~; literally = full of omens or portents: comp. 'monstrous' = full of monsters (_Lyc._ 158); also l. 79. 'Ominous' has now acquired the sense of 'ill-omened'; compare the acquired sense of 'hapless,' 'unfortunate,' etc.

65. ~orient~, bright. The Lat. _oriens_ = rising; hence (from being applied to the sun) = eastern (l. 30); and hence generally 'bright' or 'shining': comp. _Par. Lost_, i. 546, "With _orient_ colours waving."

66. ~drouth of Phoebus~, _i.e._ thirst caused by the heat of the sun. Phoebus is Apollo, the Sun-god. Compare l. 928, where 'drouth' = want of rain; the more usual spelling is _drought_. ~which~: see note, l. 2. 'Which' is here object of 'taste,' and refers to 'liquor.'

67. ~fond~, foolish (its primary sense). _Fonned_ was the participle of an old verb _fonnen_, to be foolish. The word is now used to express great liking or affection: the idea of folly being almost entirely lost. Chaucer has _fonne_, a fool: comp. _Il Pens._ 6, "fancies _fond_"; _Lyc._ 56, "I _fondly_ dream"; _Sams. Agon._ 1682, "So _fond_ are mortal men."

68. ~Soon as~, etc., _i.e._ as soon as the magical draught produces its effect. In line 66 _as_ is temporal. ~potion~. Radically, potion = a drink, but it is generally used in the sense of a medicated or poisonous draught. _Poison_ is the same word through the French.

69. ~Express resemblance of the gods~. Comp. Shakespeare: "What a piece of work is man! ... in action how like an angel, in apprehension, how like a god!" See also _Par. Lost_, iii. 44, "human face divine."

71. ~ounce~. This is the _Felis uncia_, allied to the panther and the cheetah. Some connect it with the Persian _yúz_, panther.

72. ~All other parts~, etc. In the _Odyssey_ (see note on l. 52) the bodies of those transformed by Circe were entirely changed; here only the head. As one editor observes, this suited the convenience of the performers who were to appear on the stage in masks (see _Stage direction_, l. 92-3). Grammatically, line 72 is an example of the absolute construction, common in Latin. The noun ('parts') is neither the subject nor the object of a verb, but is used along with some attributive adjunct--generally a participle ('remaining')--to serve the purpose of an adverb or adverbial clause. The noun (or pronoun) is usually said to be the nominative absolute; but, in the case of pronouns, Milton uses the nominative and the objective indifferently. In Old English the dative was used.

73. ~perfect~, complete (Lat. _perfectus_, done thoroughly).

74. ~Not once perceive~, etc. This was not the case with the followers of Ulysses: see note, l. 52.

76. ~friends and native home forgot~. Circe's cup has here the effect ascribed to the lotus in _Odyssey_ ix. "Now whosoever of them did eat the honey-sweet fruit of the lotus had no more wish to bring tidings nor to come back, but there he chose to abide with the lotus-eating men, ever feeding on the lotus and forgetful of his homeward way." In Tennyson's _Lotos-Eaters_ there is no forgetfulness of friends and home: "Sweet it was to dream of Fatherland, Of child, and wife and slave." Masson also refers to Plato's ethical application of the story (_Rep._ viii.); "Plato speaks of the moral lotophagus, or youth steeped in sensuality, as accounting his very viciousness a developed manhood, and the so-called virtues but signs of rusticity." Compare also Spenser, _F. Q._ ii. 12. 86, "One above the rest in speciall, That had an hog been late, ... did him miscall, That had from hoggish form him brought to natural."

77. ~sensual sty~: see note on l. 52. To those who, "with low-thoughted care," are "unmindful of the crown that Virtue gives," the world becomes little better than a sensual sty. This line is adverbial to _forget_.

78. ~favoured~: compare Lat. _gratus_ = favoured (adj.).

79. ~adventurous~, full of risks. The current sense of 'adventurous,' applied only to persons, is "enterprising." See l. 61, 609. ~glade~: strictly, an open space in a wood, and hence applied (as here) to the wood itself. It is cognate with _glow_ and _glitter_, and its fundamental sense is 'a passage for light' (Skeat).

80. ~glancing star~, a shooting star. Comp. _Par. Lost_, iv. 556:

"Swift as a shooting star
In autumn thwarts the night."

The rhythm of the line and the prevalence of sibilants suit the sense.

81. ~convoy~: comp. _Par. Lost_, vi. 752, "_convoyed_ By four cherubic shapes." It is another form of _convey_ (Lat. _con_ = together, _via_ = a way).

83. ~sky-robes~: the "ambrosial weeds" of line 16. ~Iris' woof~, material dyed in rainbow colours. The goddess Iris was a personification of the rainbow: comp. l. 992 and _Par. Lost_, xi. 244, "Iris had dipped the woof." Etymologically, _woof_ is connected with _web_ and _weave_: it is short for _on-wef_ = on-web, _i.e._ the cross threads laid on the warp of a loom.

84. ~weeds~: see note, l. 16.

86. ~That to the service~, etc. The part of the Spirit was acted by Lawes, first in "sky-robes," then in shepherd dress. In the dedication of _Comus_ by Lawes to Lord Brackley (anonymous edition of 1637), he alludes to the favours that had been shown him by the Bridgewater family. In the above lines Milton compliments Lawes and enables Lawes to compliment the Earl (see Introduction).