Comus A Mask Presented at Ludlow-Castle, 1634 &c.

by John Milton

Table of contents

- The Persons

- §

The Persons

- The attendant Spirit afterwards in the habit of Thyrsis.

- The Lady.

- 1. Brother.

- 2. Brother.

- Comus with his crew.

- Sabrina the Nymph.

The cheif persons which presented, were
The Lord Bracly,
Mr. Thomas Egerton his Brother,
The Lady Alice Egerton.

§

§
The first Scene discovers a wilde Wood The attendant Spirit descends or enters

BEFORE the starry threshold of Joves Court

My mansion is, where those immortal shapes

Of bright aëreal Spirits live insphear'd

In Regions milde of calm and serene Ayr,

Above the smoak and stirr of this dim spot,

Which men call Earth, and with low-thoughted care

Confin'd, and pester'd in this pin-fold here,

Strive to keep up a frail, and Feaverish being

Unmindfull of the crown that Vertue gives

After this mortal change, to her true Servants

Amongst the enthron'd gods on Sainted seats.

Yet som there be that by due steps aspire

To lay their just hands on that Golden Key

That ope's the Palace of Eternity:

To such my errand is, and but for such,

I would not soil these pure Ambrosial weeds,

With the rank vapours of this Sin-worn mould.

But to my task. Neptune besides the sway

Of every salt Flood, and each ebbing Stream,

Took in by lot 'twixt high, and neather Jove,

Imperial rule of all the Sea-girt Iles

That like to rich, and various gemms inlay

The unadorned boosom of the Deep,

Which he to grace his tributary gods

By course commits to severall government,

And gives them leave to wear their Saphire crowns,

And weild their little tridents, but this Ile

The greatest, and the best of all the main

He quarters to his blu-hair'd deities,

And all this tract that fronts the falling Sun

A noble Peer of mickle trust, and power

Has in his charge, with temper'd awe to guide

An old, and haughty Nation proud in Arms:

Where his fair off-spring nurs't in Princely lore,

Are coming to attend their Fathers state,

And new-entrusted Scepter, but their way

Lies through the perplex't paths of this drear Wood,

The nodding horror of whose shady brows

Threats the forlorn and wandring Passinger.

And here their tender age might suffer perill,

But that by quick command from Soveran Jove

I was dispatcht for their defence, and guard;

And listen why for I will tell ye now

What never yet was heard in Tale or Song

From old, or modern Bard in Hall, or Bowr.

Bacchus that first from out the purple Grape,

Crush't the sweet poyson of mis-used Wine

After the Tuscan Mariners transform'd

Coasting the Tyrrhene shore, as the winds listed,

On Circes Iland fell (who knows not Circe

The daughter of the Sun? Whose charmed Cup

Whoever tasted, lost his upright shape,

And downward fell into a groveling Swine)

This Nymph that gaz'd upon his clustring locks,

With Ivy berries wreath' d, and his blithe youth,

Had by him, ere he parted thence, a Son

Much like his Father, but his Mother more,

Whom therfore she brought up and Comus nam'd,

Who ripe, and frolick of his full grown age,

Roaving the Celtick, and Iberian fields,

At last betakes him to this ominous Wood,

And in thick shelter of black shades imbowr'd,

Excells his Mother at her mighty Art,

Offring to every weary Travailer,

His orient liquor in a Crystal Glasse,

To quench the drouth of Phoebus, which as they taste

(For most do taste through fond intemperate thirst)

Soon as the Potion works, their human count'nance,

Th' express resemblance of the gods, is chang'd

Into som brutish form of Woolf, or Bear,

Or Ounce, or Tiger, Hog, or bearded Goat,

All other parts remaining as they were,

And they, so perfect is their misery,

Not once perceive their foul disfigurement,

But boast themselves more comely then before

And all their friends, and native home forget

To roule with pleasure in a sensual stie.

Therfore when any favour'd of high Jove,

Chances to pass through this adventrous glade,

Swift as the Sparkle of a glancing Star,

I shoot from Heav'n to give him safe convoy,

As now I do: But first I must put off

These my skie robes spun out of Iris Wooff,

And take the Weeds and likenes of a Swain,

That to the service of this house belongs,

Who with his soft Pipe, and smooth-dittied Song,

Well knows to still the wilde winds when they roar,

And hush the waving Woods, nor of lesse faith,

And in this office of his Mountain watch,

Likeliest, and neerest to the present ayd

Of this occasion. But I hear the tread

Of hatefull steps, I must be viewless now.

Comus enters with a Charming Rod in one hand, his Glass in the other, with him a rout of Monsters, headed like sundry sorts of wilde Beasts, but otherwise like Men and Women, their Apparel glistring, they com in making a riotous and unruly noise, with Torches in their hands.

Comus.

The Star that bids the Shepherd fold,

Now the top of Heav'n doth hold,

And the gilded Car of Day,

His glowing Axle doth allay

In the steep Atlantick stream,

And the slope Sun his upward beam

Shoots against the dusky Pole,

Pacing toward the other gole

Of his Chamber in the East.

Mean while welcom Joy, and Feast,

Midnight shout, and revelry,

Tipsie dance, and Jollity.

Braid your Locks with rosie Twine

Dropping odours, dropping Wine.

Rigor now is gon to bed,

And Advice with scrupulous head,

Strict Age, and sowre Severity,

With their grave Saws in slumber ly.

We that are of purer fire

Imitate the Starry Quire,

Who in their nightly watchfull Sphears,

Lead in swift round the Months and Years.

The Sounds, and Seas with all their finny drove

Now to the Moon in wavering Morrice move,

And on the Tawny Sands and Shelves,

Trip the pert Fairies and the dapper Elves;

By dimpled Brook, and Fountain brim,

The Wood-Nymphs deckt with Daisies trim,

Their merry wakes and pastimes keep:

What hath night to do with sleep?

Night hath better sweets to prove,

Venus now wakes, and wak'ns Love.

Com let us our rights begin,

'Tis onely day-light that makes Sin

Which these dun shades will ne're report.

Hail Goddesse of Nocturnal sport

Dark vaild Cotytto, t' whom the secret flame

Of mid-night Torches burns; mysterious Dame

That ne're art call'd, but when the Dragon woom

Of Stygian darknes spets her thickest gloom,

And makes one blot of all the ayr,

Stay thy cloudy Ebon chair,

Wherin thou rid'st with Hecat', and befriend

Us thy vow'd Priests, til utmost end

Of all thy dues be done, and none left out,

Ere the blabbing Eastern scout,

The nice Morn on th' Indian steep

From her cabin'd loop hole peep,

And to the tel-tale Sun discry

Our conceal'd Solemnity.

Com, knit hands, and beat the ground,

In a light fantastick round.

The Measure

Break off, break off, I feel the different pace,

Of som chast footing neer about this ground.

Run to your shrouds, within these Brakes and Trees,

Our number may affright: Som Virgin sure

(For so I can distinguish by mine Art)

Benighted in these Woods. Now to my charms,

And to my wily trains, I shall e're long

Be well stock't with as fair a herd as graz'd

About my Mother Circe. Thus I hurl

My dazling Spells into the spungy ayr,

Of power to cheat the eye with blear illusion,

Ada give it false presentments, lest the place

And my quaint habits breed astonishment,

And put the Damsel to suspicious flight,

Which must not be, for that's against my course;

I under fair pretence of friendly ends,

And well plac't words of glozing courtesie

Baited with reasons not unplausible

Wind me into the easie-hearted man,

And hugg him into snares. When once her eye

Hath met the vertue of this Magick dust,

I shall appear som harmles Villager

Whom thrift keeps up about his Country gear,

But here she comes, I fairly step aside,

And hearken, if I may, her busines here.

The Lady enters

Lady.

This way the noise was, if mine ear be true,

My best guide now, me thought it was the sound

Of Riot, and ill manag'd Merriment,

Such as the jocond Flute, or gamesom Pipe

Stirs up among the loose unleter'd Hinds,

When for their teeming Flocks, and granges full

In wanton dance they praise the bounteous Pan,

And thank the gods amiss. I should be loath

To meet the rudenesse, and swill'd insolence

Of such late Wassailers; yet O where els

Shall I inform my unacquainted feet

In the blind mazes of this tangl'd Wood?

My Brothers when they saw me wearied out

With this long way, resolving here to lodge

Under the spreading favour of these Pines,

Stept as they se'd to the next Thicket side

To bring me Berries, or such cooling fruit

As the kind hospitable Woods provide.

They left me then, when the gray-hooded Eev'n

Like a sad Votarist in Palmers weed

Rose from the hindmost wheels of Phoebus wain.

But where they are, and why they came not back,

Is now the labour of my thoughts, 'tis likeliest

They had ingag'd their wandring steps too far,

And envious darknes, e're they could return,

Had stole them from me, els O theevish Night

Why shouldst thou, but for som fellonious end,

In thy dark lantern thus close up the Stars,

That nature hung in Heav'n, and fill'd their Lamps

With everlasting to give due light

To the misled and lonely Travailer?

This is the place, as well as I may guess,

Whence eev'n now the tumult of loud Mirth

Was rife, and perfet in my list'ning ear,

Yet nought but single darknes do I find.

What might this be? A thousand fantasies

Begin to throng into my memory

Of calling shapes, and beckning shadows dire,

And airy tongues, that syllable mens names

On Sands, and Shoars, and desert Wildernesses.

These thoughts may startle well, but not astound

The vertuous mind, that ever walks attended

By a strong siding champion Conscience.—

O welcom pure-ey'd Faith, white-handed Hope,

Thou hovering Angel girt with golden wings,

And thou unblemish't form of Chastity,

I see ye visibly, and now beleeve

That he, the Supreme good, t'whom all things ill

Are but as slavish officers of vengeance,

Would send a glistring Guardian if need were

To keep my life and honour unassail'd.

Was I deceiv'd, or did a sable cloud

Turn forth her silver lining on the night?

I did not err, there does a sable cloud

Turn forth her silver lining on the night

And casts a gleam over this tufted Grove.

I cannot hallow to my Brothers, but

Such noise as I can make to be heard farthest

Ile venter, for my new enliv'nd spirits

Prompt me; and they perhaps are not far off.

SONG

Sweet Echo, sweetest Nymph that livst unseen

Within thy airy shell

By slow Mæander's margent green,

And in the violet imbroider'd vale

Where the love-lorn Nightingale

Nightly to thee her sad Song mourneth well.

Canst thou not tell me of a gentle Pair

That likest thy Narcissus are?

O if thou have

Hid them in som flowry Cave,

Tell me but where

Sweet Queen of Parly, Daughter of the Sphear,

So maist thou be translated to the skies,

And give resounding grace to all Heavns Harmonies.

Com.

Can any mortal mixture of Earths mould

Breath such Divine inchanting ravishment?

Sure somthing holy lodges in that brest,

And with these raptures moves the vocal air

To testifie his hidd'n residence;

How sweetly did they float upon the wings

Of silence, through the empty-vaulted night

At every fall smoothing the Raven doune

Of darknes till it smil'd: have oft heard

My mother Circe with the Sirens three,

Amid'st the flowry-kirtl'd Naiades

Culling their Potent hearbs, and balefull drugs,

Who as they sung, would take the prison'd soul,

And lap it in Elysium, Scylla wept,

And chid her barking waves into attention,

And fell Charybdis murmur'd soft applause:

Yet they in pleasing slumber lull'd the sense,

And in sweet madness rob'd it of it self,

But such a sacred, and home-felt delight,

Such sober certainty of waking bliss

I never heard till now. Ile speak to her

And she shall be my Queen. Hail forren wonder

Whom certain these rough shades did never breed

Unlesse the Goddes that in rurall shrine

Dwell'st here with Pan, or Silvan, by blest Song

Forbidding every bleak unkindly Fog

To touch the prosperous growth of this tall Wood.

La.

Nay gentle Shepherd ill is lost that praise

That is addrest to unattending Ears,

Not any boast of skill, but extreme shift

How to regain my sever'd company

Compell'd me to awake the courteous Echo

To give me answer from her mossie Couch.

Co.

What chance good Lady hath bereft you thus?

La.

Dim darknes, and this leavy Labyrinth.

Co.

Could that divide you from neer-ushering guides?

La.

They left me weary on a grassie terf.

Co.

By falshood, or discourtesie, or why?

La.

To seek i'th vally som cool friendly Spring.

Co.

And left your fair side all unguarded Lady?

La.

They were but twain, and purpos'd quick return.

Co.

Perhaps fore-stalling night prevented them.

La.

How easie my misfortune is to hit!

Co.

Imports their loss, beside the present need?

La.

No less then if I should my brothers loose.

Co.

Were they of manly prime, or youthful bloom?

La.

As smooth as Hebe's their unrazor'd lips.

Co.

Two such I saw, what time the labour'd Oxe

In his loose traces from the furrow came,

And the swink't hedger at his Supper sate;

I saw them under a green mantling vine

That crawls along the side of yon small hill,

Plucking ripe clusters from the tender shoots,

Their port was more then human, as they stood;

I took it for a faery vision

Of som gay creatures of the element

That in the colours of the Rainbow live

And play i'th plighted clouds. I was aw-strook,

And as I past, I worshipt: if those you seek

It were a journey like the path to Heav'n,

To help you find them. La. Gentle villager

What readiest way would bring me to that place?

Co.

Due west it rises from this shrubby point.

La.

To find out that, good Shepherd, I suppose,

In such a scant allowance of Star-light,

Would overtask the best Land-Pilots art,

Without the sure guess of well-practiz'd feet.

Co.

I know each lane, and every alley green

Dingle, or bushy dell of this wilde Wood,

And every bosky bourn from side to side

My daily walks and ancient neighbourhood,

And if your stray attendance be yet lodg'd,

Or shroud within these limits, I shall know

Ere morrow wake, or the low roosted lark

From her thatch't pallat rowse, if otherwise

I can conduct you Lady to a low

But loyal cottage, where you may be safe

Till further quest'. La. Shepherd I take thy word,

And trust thy honest offer'd courtesie,

Which oft is sooner found in lowly sheds

With smoaky rafters, then in tapstry Halls

And Courts of Princes, where it first was nam'd,

And yet is most pretended: In a place

Less warranted then this, or less secure

I cannot be, that I should fear to change it.

Eie me blest Providence, and square my triall

To my proportion'd strength. Shepherd lead on.—

The Two Brothers

Eld. Bro.

Unmuffle ye faint stars, and thou fair Moon

That wontst to love the travailers benizon,

Stoop thy pale visage through an amber cloud,

And disinherit Chaos, that raigns here

In double night of darknes, and of shades;

Or if your influence be quite damm'd up

With black usurping mists, som gentle taper

Though a rush Candle from the wicker hole

Of som clay habitation visit us

With thy long levell'd rule of streaming light,

And thou shalt be our star of Arcady,

Or Tyrian Cynosure.

2.Bro.

Or if our eyes

Be barr'd that happines, might we but hear

The folded flocks pen'd in their watled cotes,

Or sound of pastoral reed with oaten stops,

Or whistle from the Lodge, or village cock

Count the night watches to his feathery Dames,

'Twould be som solace yet, som little chearing

In this close dungeon of innumerous bowes.

But O that haples virgin our lost sister

Where may she wander now, whether betake her

From the chill dew, amongst rude burrs and thistles?

Perhaps som cold bank is her boulster now

Or'gainst the rugged bark of som broad Elm

Leans her unpillow'd head fraught with sad fears.

What if in wild amazement, and affright,

Or while we speak within the direfull grasp

Of Savage hunger, or of Savage heat?

Eld. Bro.

Peace brother, be not over-exquisite

To cast the fashion of uncertain evils;

For grant they be so, while they rest unknown,

What need a man forestall his date of grief,

And run to meet what he would most avoid?

Or if they be but false alarms of Fear,

How bitter is such self-delusion?

I do not think my sister so to seek,

Or so unprincipl'd in vertues book,

And the sweet peace that goodnes boosoms ever,

As that the single want of light and noise

(Not being in danger, as I trust she is not)

Could stir the constant mood of her calm thoughts,

And put them into mis-becoming plight.

Vertue could see to do what vertue would

By her own radiant light, though Sun and Moon

Were in the flat Sea sunk. And Wisdoms self

Oft seeks to sweet retired Solitude,

Where with her best nurse Contemplation

She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings

That in the various bussle of resort

Were all to ruffl'd, and somtimes impair'd.

He that has light within his own cleer brest

May sit i'th center, and enjoy bright day,

But he that hides a dark soul, and foul thoughts

Benighted walks under the mid-day Sun;

Himself is his own dungeon.

2. Bro.

Tis most true

That musing meditation most affects

The pensive secrecy of desert cell,

Far from the cheerfull haunt of men, and herds,

And sits as safe as in a Senat house,

For who would rob a Hermit of his Weeds,

His few Books, or his Beads, or Maple Dish,

Or do his gray hairs any violence?

But beauty like the fair Hesperian Tree

Laden with blooming gold, had need the guard

Of dragon watch with uninchanted eye,

To save her blossoms, and defend her fruit

From the rash hand of bold Incontinence.

You may as well spred out the unsun'd heaps

Of Misers treasure by an out-laws den,

And tell me it is safe, as bid me hope

Danger will wink on Opportunity,

And let a single helpless maiden pass

Uninjur'd in this wilde surrounding wast.

Of night, or lonelines it recks me not,

I fear the dred events that dog them both,

Lest som ill greeting touch attempt the person

Of our unowned sister.

Eld. Bro.

I do not, brother,

Inferr, as if I thought my sisters state

Secure without all doubt, or controversie:

Yet where an equall poise of hope and fear

Does arbitrate th' event, my nature is

That I encline to hope, rather then fear,

And gladly banish squint suspicion.

My sister is not so defenceless left

As you imagine, she has a hidden strength

Which you remember not.

2. Bro.

What hidden strength,

Unless the strength of Heav'n, if you mean that?

Eld. Bro.

I mean that too, but yet a hidden strength

Which if Heav'n gave it, may be term'd her own:

'Tis chastity, my brother, chastity:

She that has that, is clad in compleat steel,

And like a quiver'd Nymph with Arrows keen

May trace huge Forests, and unharbour'd Heaths,

Infamous Hills, and sandy perilous wildes,

Where through the sacred rayes of Chastity,

No savage fierce, Bandite, or mountaneer

Will dare to soyl her Virgin purity,

Yea there, where very desolation dwels

By grots, and caverns shag'd with horrid shades,

She may pass on with unblench't majesty,

Be it not don in pride, or in presumption.

Som say no evil thing that walks by night

In fog, or fire, by lake, or moorish fen,

Blew meager Hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost,

That breaks his magick chains at curfeu time,

No goblin, or swart faery of the mine,

Hath hurtfull power o're true virginity.

Do ye beleeve me yet, or shall I call

Antiquity from the old Schools of Greece

To testifie the arms of Chastity?

Hence had the huntress Dian her dred bow

Fair silver-shafted Queen for ever chaste,

Wherwith she tam'd the brinded lioness

And spotted mountain pard, but set at nought

The frivolous bolt of Cupid, gods and men

Fear'd her stern frown, and she was queen oth' Woods.

What was that snaky-headed Gorgon sheild

That wise Minerva wore, unconquer'd Virgin,

Wherwith she freez'd her foes to congeal'd stone?

But rigid looks of Chast austerity,

And noble grace that dash't brute violence

With sudden adoration, and blank aw.

So dear to Heav'n is Saintly chastity,

That when a soul is found sincerely so,

A thousand liveried Angels lacky her,

Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt,

And in cleer dream, and solemn vision

Tell her of things that no gross ear can hear,

Till oft convers with heav'nly habitants

Begin to cast a beam on th' outward shape,

The unpolluted temple of the mind,

And turns it by degrees to the souls essence,

Till all be made immortal: but when lust

By unchaste looks, loose gestures, and foul talk,

But most by leud and lavish act of sin,

Lets in defilement to the inward parts,

The soul grows clotted by contagion,

Imbodies, and imbrutes, till she quite loose

The divine property of her first being.

Such are those thick and gloomy shadows damp

Oft seen in Charnell vaults, and Sepulchers

Lingering, and sitting by a new made grave,

As loath to leave the body that it lov'd,

And link't it self by carnal sensualty

To a degenerate and degraded state.

2.Bro.

How charming is divine Philosophy!

Not harsh, and crabbed as dull fools suppose,

But musical as is Apollo's lute,

And a perpetual feast of nectar'd sweets,

Where no crude surfet raigns.

Eld. Bro.

List, list, I hear

Som far off hallow break the silent Air.

2.Bro.

Me thought so too; what should it be?

Eld. Bro.

For certain

Either som one like us night-founder'd here,

Or els som neighbour Wood-man, or at worst,

Som roaving Robber calling to his fellows.

2. Bro.

Heav'n keep my sister, agen agen and neer,

Best draw, and stand upon our guard.

Eld. Bro.

Ile hallow,

If he be friendly he comes well, if not,

Defence is a good cause, and Heav'n be for us.

The attendant Spirit habited like a Shepherd

That hallow I should know, what are you? speak;

Com not too neer, you fall on iron stakes else.

Spir.

What voice is that, my young Lord? speak agen.

2. Bro.

O brother, 'tis my father Shepherd sure.

Eld. Bro.

Thyrsis? Whose artful strains have oft delaid

The huddling brook to hear his madrigal,

And sweeten'd every muskrose of the dale,

How cam'st thou here good Swain? hath any ram

Slip't from the fold, or young Kid lost his dam,

Or straggling weather the pen't flock forsook?

How couldst thou find this dark sequester'd nook?

Spir.

O my lov'd masters heir, and his next joy,

I came not here on such a trivial toy

As a stray'd Ewe, or to pursue the stealth

Of pilfering Woolf, not all the fleecy wealth

That doth enrich these Downs, is worth a thought

To this my errand, and the care it brought.

But O my Virgin Lady, where is she?

How chance she is not in your company?

Eld. Bro.

To tell thee sadly Shepherd, without blame,

Or our neglect, we lost her as we came.

Spir.

Ay me unhappy then my fears are true.

Eld.Bro.

What fears good Thyrsis? Prethee briefly shew.

Spir.

Ile tell ye, 'tis not vain or fabulous,

(Though so esteem'd by shallow ignorance)

What the sage Poets taught by th' heav'nly Muse,

Storied of old in high immortal vers

Of dire Chimera's and inchanted Iles,

And rifted Rocks whose entrance leads to hell,

For such there be, but unbelief is blind.

Within the navil of this hideous Wood,

Immur'd in cypress shades a Sorcerer dwels

Of Bacchus, and of Circe born, great Comus,

Deep skill'd in all his mothers witcheries,

And here to every thirsty wanderer,

By sly enticement gives his banefull cup,

With many murmurs mixt, whose pleasing poison

The visage quite transforms of him that drinks,

And the inglorious likenes of a beast

Fixes instead, unmoulding reasons mintage

Character'd in the face; this have I learn't

Tending my flocks hard by i'th hilly crofts,

That brow this bottom glade, whence night by night

He and his monstrous rout are heard to howl

Like stabl'd wolves, or tigers at their prey,

Doing abhorred rites to Hecate

In their obscured haunts of inmost bowres.

Yet have they many baits, and guilefull spells

To inveigle and invite th' unwary sense

Of them that pass unweeting by the way.

This evening late by then the chewing flocks

Had ta'n their supper on the savoury Herb

Of Knot-grass dew-besprent, and were in fold,

I sate me down to watch upon a bank

With Ivy canopied, and interwove

With flaunting Hony-suckle, and began

Wrapt in a pleasing fit of melancholy

To meditate my rural minstrelsie,

Till fancy had her fill, but ere a close

The wonted roar was up amidst the Woods,

And fill'd the Air with barbarous dissonance,

At which I ceas't, and listen'd them a while,

Till an unusuall stop of sudden silence

Gave respit to the drowsie frighted steeds

That draw the litter of close-curtain'd sleep.

At last a soft and solemn breathing sound

Rose like a steam of rich distill'd Perfumes,

And stole upon the Air, that even Silence

Was took e're she was ware, and wish't she might

Deny her nature, and be never more

Still to be so displac't. I was all eare,

And took in strains that might create a soul

Under the ribs of Death, but O ere long

Too well I did perceive it was the voice

Of my most honour'd Lady, your dear sister.

Amaz'd I stood, harrow'd with grief and fear,

And O poor hapless Nightingale thought I,

How sweet thou sing'st, how neer the deadly snare!

Then down the Lawns I ran with headlong hast

Through paths, and turnings oft'n trod by day,

Till guided by mine ear I found the place

Where that damn'd wisard hid in sly disguise

(For so by certain signes I knew) had met

Already, ere my best speed could prævent,

The aidless innocent Lady his wish't prey,

Who gently ask't if he had seen such two,

Supposing him som neighbour villager;

Longer I durst not stay, but soon I guess't

Ye were the two she mean't, with that I sprung

Into swift flight, till I had found you here,

But furder know I not.

2.Bro.

O night and shades,

How are ye joyn'd with hell in triple knot

Against th' unarmed weakness of one Virgin

Alone, and helpless! Is this the confidence

You gave me Brother?

Eld. Bro.

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,

Vertue may be assail'd, but never hurt,

Surpriz'd by unjust force, but not enthrall'd,

Yea even that which mischief meant most harm,

Shall in the happy trial prove most glory.

But evil on it self shall back recoyl,

And mix no more with goodness, when at last

Gather'd like scum, and setl'd to it self

It shall be in eternal restless change

Self-fed, and self-consum'd, if this fail,

The pillar'd firmament is rott'nness,

And earths base built on stubble. But com let's on.

Against th' opposing will and arm of Heav'n

May never this just sword be lifted up,

But for that damn'd magician, let him be girt

With all the greisly legions that troop

Under the sooty flag of Acheron,

Harpyies and Hydras, or all the monstrous forms

'Twixt Africa and Inde, Ile find him out,

And force him to restore his purchase back,

Or drag him by the curls, to a foul death,

Curs'd as his life.

Spir.

Alas good ventrous youth,

I love thy courage yet, and bold Emprise,

But here thy sword can do thee little stead,

Farr other arms, and other weapons must

Be those that quell the might of hellish charms,

He with his bare wand can unthred thy joynts,

And crumble all thy sinews.

Eld. Bro.

Why prethee Shepherd

How durst thou then thy self approach so neer

As to make this relation?

Spir.

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 skill'd

In every vertuous plant and healing herb

That spreds her verdant leaf to th' morning ray,

He lov'd me well, and oft would beg me sing,

Which when I did, he on the tender grass

Would sit, and hearken even to extasie,

And in requitall ope his leather'n scrip,

And shew me simples of a thousand names

Telling their strange and vigorous faculties;

Amongst the rest a small unsightly root,

But of divine effect, he cull'd me out;

The leaf was darkish, and had prickles on it,

But in another Countrey, as he said,

Bore a bright golden flowre, but not in this soyl:

Unknown, and like esteem'd, and the dull swayn

Treads on it daily with his clouted shoon,

And yet more med'cinal is it then that Moly

That Hermes once to wise Ulysses gave;

He call'd it Hæmony, and gave it me,

And bad me keep it as of sov'ran use

'Gainst all inchantments, mildew blast, or damp

Or gastly furies apparition;

I purs't it up, but little reck'ning made,

Till now that this extremity compell'd,

But now I find it true; for by this means

I knew the foul inchanter though disguis'd,

Enter'd 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 necromancers hall;

Where if he be, with dauntless hardihood,

And brandish't blade rush on him, break his glass,

And shed the lushious liquor on the ground,

But sease his wand, though he and his curst crew

Feirce signe of battail make, and menace high,

Or like the sons of Vulcan vomit smoak,

Yet will they soon retire, if he but shrink.

Eld. Bro.

Thyrsis lead on apace, Ile follow thee,

And som good angel bear a sheild before us.

The Scene changes to a stately Palace, set out with all manner of deliciousness; soft Musick, Tables spred with all dainties. Comus appears with his rabble, and the Lady set in an inchanted 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 chain'd up in Alabaster,

And you a statue; or as Daphne was

Root-bound, that fled Apollo.

La.

Fool do not boast,

Thou canst not touch the freedom of my minde

With all thy charms, although this corporal rinde

Thou haste immanacl'd, while Heav'n sees good.

Co.

Why are you vext Lady? why do you frown?

Here dwell no frowns, nor anger, from these gates

Sorrow flies farr: See here be all the pleasures

That fancy can beget on youthfull thoughts,

When the fresh blood grows lively, and returns

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 Syrops mixt.

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 your self,

And to those dainty limms which nature lent

For gentle usage, and soft delicacy?

But you invert the cov'nants of her trust,

And harshly deal like an ill borrower

With that which you receiv'd on other terms,

Scorning the unexempt condition

By which all mortal frailty must subsist,

Refreshment after toil, ease after pain,

That have been tir'd all day without repast,

And timely rest have wanted, but fair Virgin

This will restore all soon.

La.

'Twill not false traitor,

'Twill not restore the truth and honesty

That thou hast banish't 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 brew'd inchantments, foul deceiver,

Hast thou betrai'd my credulous innocence

With visor'd falshood, and base forgery,

And wouldst thou seek again to trap me here

With lickerish baits fit to ensnare a brute?

Were it a draft 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-govern'd and wise appetite.

Co.

O foolishnes of men! that find their ears

To those budge doctors of the Stoick Furr,

And fetch their precepts from the Cynick Tub,

Praising the lean and sallow Abstinence.

Wherefore did Nature powre her bounties forth,

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-hair'd silk

To deck her Sons, and that no corner might

Be vacant of her plenty, in her own loyns

She hutch't th' all-worshipt ore, and precious gems

To store her children with; if all the world

Should in a pet of temperance feed on Pulse,

Drink the clear stream, and nothing wear but Freize,

Th' all-giver would be unthank't, would be unprais'd,

Not half his riches known, and yet despis'd,

And we should serve him as a grudging master,

As a penurious niggard of his wealth,

And live like Natures bastards, not her sons,

Who would be quite surcharged with her own weight,

And strangl'd with her waste fertility;

Th' earth cumber'd, and the wing'd air dark't with plumes,

The herds would over-multitude their Lords,

The Sea o'refraught would swell, and th' unsought diamonds

Would so emblaze the forhead of the Deep,

And so bestudd with Stars, that they below

Would grow inur'd to light, and com at last

To gaze upon the Sun with shameless brows.

List Lady be not coy, and be not cosen'd

With that same vaunted name Virginity,

Beauty is natures coyn, must not be hoorded,

But must be currant, and the good thereof

Consists in mutual and partak'n bliss,

Unsavoury in th' injoyment of it self

If you let slip time, like a neglected rose

It withers on the stalk with languish't head.

Beauty is natures 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; course complexions

And cheeks of sorry grain will serve to ply

The sampler, and to teize the huswifes wooll.

What need a vermeil-tinctured lip for that

Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the Morn?

There was another meaning in these gifts,

Think what, and be adviz'd, you are but young yet.

La.

I had not thought to have unlockt my lips

In this unhallow'd air, but that this Jugler

Would think to charm my judgement, as mine eyes,

Obtruding false rules pranckt in reasons garb.

I hate when vice can bolt her arguments,

And vertue 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 onely 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-pamper'd Luxury

Now heaps upon som few with vast excess,

Natures full blessings would be well dispenc't

In unsuperfluous eeven proportion,

And she no whit encomber'd with her store,

And then the giver would be better thank't,

His praise due paid, for swinish gluttony

Ne're looks to Heav'n amidst his gorgeous feast,

But with besotted base ingratitude

Cramms, and blasphemes his feeder. Shall I go on?

Or have I said anough? To him that dares

Arm his profane tongue with contemptuous words

Against the Sun-clad power of Chastity,

Fain would I somthing say, yet to what end?

Thou hast nor Eare, nor Soul to apprehend

The sublime notion, and high mystery

That must be utter'd to unfold the sage

And serious doctrine of Virginity,

And thou art worthy that thou shouldst not know

More happiness then this thy present lot.

Enjoy your deer Wit, and gay Rhetorick

That hath so well been taught her dazling fence,

Thou art not fit to hear thy self convinc't;

Yet should I try, the uncontrouled worth

Of this pure cause would kindle my rap't spirits

To of a flame of sacred vehemence,

That dumb things would be mov'd to sympathize,

And the brute Earth would lend her nerves, and shake,

Till all thy magick structures rear'd so high,

Were shatter'd heaps o're thy false head.

Co.

She fables not, I feel that I do fear

Her words set off by som superior power;

And though not mortal, yet a cold shuddring dew

Dips me all o're, as when the wrath of Jove

Speaks thunder, and the chains of Erebus

To som of Saturns crew. I must dissemble,

And try her yet more strongly. Com, no more,

This is meer moral babble, and direct

Against the canon laws of our foundation;

I must not suffer this, yet 'tis but the lees

And setlings of a melancholy blood;

But this will cure all streight, 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 signe of resistance, but are all driven in; The attendant Spirit comes in

Spir.

What, have you let the false enchanter scape?

O ye mistook, ye should have snatcht his wand

And bound him fast; without his rod revers't,

And backward mutters of dissevering power,

We cannot free the Lady that sits here

In stony fetters fixt, and motionless;

Yet stay, be not disturb'd, now I bethink me,

Som other means I have which may be us'd,

Which once of Melibæus old I learnt

The soothest Shepherd that ere pip't on plains.

There is a gentle Nymph not farr 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 Scepter from his father Brute.

The guiltless damsel flying the mad pursuit

Of her enraged stepdam Guendolen,

Commended her innocence to the flood

That stay'd her flight with his cross-flowing course,

The water Nymphs that in the bottom plaid,

Held up their pearled wrists and took her in,

Bearing her straight to aged Nereus Hall,

Who piteous of her woes, rear'd her lank head,

And gave her to his daughters to imbathe

In nectar'd lavers strew'd with Asphodil,

And through the porch and inlet of each sense

Dropt in Ambrosial Oils till she reviv'd,

And underwent a quick immortal change

Made Goddess of the River; still she retains

Her maid'n gentlenes, and oft at Eeve

Visits the herds along the twilight meadows,

Helping all urchin blasts, and ill luck signes

That the shrewd medling Elfe delights to make,

Which she with pretious viold liquors heals.

For which the Shepherds at their festivals

Carrol her goodnes lowd in rustick layes,

And throw sweet garland wreaths into her stream

Of pancies, pinks, and gaudy Daffadils.

And, as the old Swain said, she can unlock

The clasping charm, and thaw the numming spell,

If she be right invok't in warbled Song,

For maid'nhood she loves, and will be swift

To aid a Virgin, such as was her self

In hard besetting need, this will I try

And adde the power of som adjuring verse.

SONG.

Sabrina fair

Listen where thou art sitting

Under the glassie, cool, translucent wave,

In twisted braids of Lillies 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 Neptunes mace,

And Tethys grave majestick pace,

By hoary Nereus wrincled look,

And the Carpathian wisards hook,

By scaly Tritons winding shell,

And old sooth-saying Glaucus spell,

By Leucothea's lovely hands,

And her son that rules the strands,

By Thetis tinsel-slipper'd feet,

And the Songs of Sirens sweet,

By dead Parthenope's dear tomb,

And fair Ligéa's golden comb,

Wherwith 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 rosie head

From thy coral-pav'n bed,

And bridle in thy headlong wave,

Till thou our summons answered have.

Listen and save.

Sabrina rises, attended by water-Nymphes, and sings

By the rushy-fringed bank,

Where grows the Willow and the Osier dank,

My sliding Chariot stayes,

Thick set with Agat, and the azurn sheen

Of Turkis blew, and Emrauld green

That in the channell strayes,

Whilst from off the waters fleet

Thus I set my printless feet

O're the Cowslips Velvet head,

That bends not as I tread,

Gentle swain at thy request

I am here.

Spir.

Goddess dear

We implore thy powerful hand

To undo the charmed band

Of true Virgin here distrest,

Through the force, and through the wile

Of unblest inchanter vile.

Sab.

Shepherd 'tis my office best

To help insnared chastity;

Brightest Lady look on me,

Thus I sprinkle on thy brest

Drops that from my fountain pure,

I have kept of pretious cure,

Trice upon thy fingers tip,

Thrice upon thy rubied lip,

Next this marble venom'd seat

Smear'd with gumms of glutenous heat

I touch with chaste palms moist and cold,

Now the spell hath lost his hold;

And I must haste ere morning hour

To wait in Amphitrite's bowr.

Sabrina descends, and the Lady rises out of her seat

Spir.

Virgin, daughter of Locrine

Sprung of old Anchises line,

May thy brimmed waves for this

Their full tribute never miss

From a thousand petty rills,

That tumble down the snowy hills:

Summer drouth, or singed air

Never scorch thy tresses fair,

Nor wet Octobers torrent flood

Thy molten crystal fill with mudd,

May thy billows rowl ashoar

The beryl, and the golden ore,

May thy lofty head be crown'd

With many a tower and terrass round,

And here and there thy banks upon

With Groves of myrrhe, and cinnamon.

Com Lady while Heaven lends us grace,

Let us fly this cursed place,

Lest the Sorcerer us intice

With som other new device.

Not a waste, or needless sound

Till we com to holier ground,

I shall be your faithfull guide

Through this gloomy covert wide,

And not many furlongs thence

Is your Fathers residence,

Where this night are met in state

Many a friend to gratulate

His wish't presence, and beside

All the Swains that there abide,

With Jiggs, and rural dance resort,

We shall catch them at their sport,

And our sudden coming there

Will double all their mirth and chere;

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 Presidents Castle, then com in Countrey-Dancers, after them the attendant Spirit, with the two Brothers and the Lady

SONG

Spir.

Back Shepherds, hack, anough your play,

Till next Sun-shine holiday,

Here be without duck or nod

Other trippings to he 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,

Heav'n hath timely tri'd their youth,

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're sensual Folly, and Intemperance.

The dances ended, the Spirit Epiloguizes

Spir.

To the Ocean now I fly,

And those happy climes that ly

Where day never shuts his eye,

Up in the broad fields of the sky:

There I suck the liquid ayr

All amidst the Gardens fair

Of Hesperus, and his daughters three

That sing about the golden tree:

Along the crisped shades and bowres

Revels the spruce and jocond Spring,

The Graces, and the rosie-boosom'd Howres,

Thither all their bounties bring,

That there eternal Summer dwels,

And West winds, with musky wing

About the cedar'n alleys fling

Nard, and Cassia's balmy smels.

Iris there with humid bow,

Waters the odorous banks that blow

Flowers of more mingled hew

Then her purfl'd 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

In slumber soft, and on the ground

Sadly sits th' Assyrian Queen;

But far above in spangled sheen

Celestial Cupid her fam'd son advanc't,

Holds his dear Psyche sweet intranc't

After her wandring 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,

Youth and Joy; so Jove hath sworn.

But now my task is smoothly don,

I can fly, or I can run

Quickly to the green earths end,

Where the bow'd welkin slow doth bend,

And from thence can soar as soon

To the corners of the Moon.

Mortals that would follow me,

Love vertue, she alone is free,

She can teach ye how to clime

Higher then the Spheary chime;

Or if Vertue feeble were,

Heav'n it self would stoop to her.

—THE END—

Information about this book

Title statement
Comus: a mask presented at Ludlow-Castle, 1634 &c.
Milton, John, 1608-1674

Publication

Distributor

University of Oxford Text Archive
Oxford University Computing Services
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OX2 6NN

ota@oucs.ox.ac.uk

ID [ota]

http://ota.ox.ac.uk/id/3192

ID [isbn10]

1106001915

ID [isbn13]

9781106001917

Availability

Distributed by the University of Oxford under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License

Source

— Revised version of http://ota.ox.ac.uk/id/2215

— Not recorded. "Italics and accents added based on the John T. Shawcross edition"--from the depositor of the electronic text. First printed anonymously and untitled in 1637.