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The  Cambridge  Series 

for 

Schools  mid   Training  Colleges 


COMUS    AND    LYCIDAS. 


aionDon  •-   C.  J.  CLAY  and  SONS, 

CAMBRIDGE  UNIVERSITY   PRESS   WAREHOUSE, 

AVE   MARIA   LANE. 

(Elasgoto:   263,  ARGYLE  STREET. 


EtipjtQ:     F.   A.    BROCKHAUS. 

iplefaj^orfc:    THE   MACMILLAN    COMPANY 

Jjomfaag:    E.  SEYMOUR  HALE. 


COMUS    AND   LYCIDAS 


EDITED 

WITH  INTRODUCTION,   NOTES,    GLOSSARY 
AND  APPENDIX 


BY 

A.   W.   VERITY,   M.A. 

SOMETIME   SCHOLAR   OF   TRINITY   COLLEGE  ; 
EDITOR   OF    'THE   PITT   PRESS   SHAKESPEARE   FOR   SCHOOLS.' 


CAMBRIDGE : 
AT    THE    UNIVERSITY    PRESS. 

1898 

{All  Rights  reserved.] 


©ambriijge: 

PRINTED   BY  J.    &   C.    F.    CLAY, 
AT   THE    UNIVERSITY    PRESS. 


PR  3567 


NOTE. 

"^  I  ^HIS   volume  is  partly  a   recast   of  the  earlier 
•^      editions  of  these  poems  in   the    "  Pitt   Press 
Series,"    and    I    desire    to   repeat   my    acknowledg- 
ment of  indebtedness  to  other  Editors. 

I  have  also  the  pleasure  to  thank  the  General 
Editor  of  the  series  for  many  valuable  suggestions. 

The  Indexes  were  compiled  for  me. 

A.  W.  V. 


041 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Introduction vii— Iv 

COMUS I 38 

Lycidas                  39—46 

Notes 47—158 

Textual  Variations  in  Lycidas       .        .  159 — 161 

Glossary 162 — 174 

Appendix       .......  175 — 187 

Critical  Opinions  on  Comus  and  Lycidas     .  188—200 

Index 2or — 208 


INTRODUCTION. 


LIFE   OF   MILTON. 

Milton's  life  falls  into  three  clearly  defined  divisions. 
The  first  period  ends  with  the  poet's  return      ^^^  ^^^^^ 
from    Italy   in    1639;     the    second    at    the    periods  in 
Restoration  in  1660,  when  release  from  the       ^  ^^"^  ^-^^* 
fetters  of  politics  enabled  him  to  remind  the  world  that 
he  was  a  great  poet,  if  not  a  great  controversialist ;  the 
third  is  brought  to  a  close  with  his  death  in  1674.     The 
poems  given  in  the  present  volume  date  from  the  first  of 
these  periods  ;   but  we  propose  to  summarise  briefly  the 
main  events  of  all  three. 

John   Milton   was    born    on    December    9,    1608,   in 
London.     He  came,  in  his  own  words,  ex      ^ 

'  Born  1608; 

genej'e  honesto.  A  family  of  Miltons  had  the  poet's 
been  settled  in  Oxfordshire  since  the  reign  -^^^  ^^' 
of  Elizabeth.  The  poet's  father  had  been  educated  at  an 
Oxford  school,  possibly  as  a  chorister  in  one  of  the 
College  choir-schools,  and  imbibing  Anglican  sympathies 
had  conformed  to  the  Established  Church.  For  this  he 
was  disinherited  by  his  father.  He  settled  in  London, 
following  the  profession  of  scrivener.  A  scrivener  com- 
bined the  occupations  of  lawyer  and  law- stationer.  It 
appears  to  have  been  a  lucrative  calling ;  certainly 
John  Milton  (the  poet  was  named  after  the  father) 
attained  to  easy  circumstances.     He  married  about  1600. 


viii  INTRODUCTION. 

and  had  six  children,  of  whom  several  died  young.     The 
third  child  was  the  poet. 

The  elder  Milton  was  evidently  a  man  of  considerable 
culture,  in  particular  an  accomplished  musician,  and  a 
composer^  whose  madrigals  were  deemed  worthy  of  being 
printed  side  by  side  with  those  of  Byrd,  Orlando  Gibbons 
and  other  leading  musicians  of  the  time.  To  him,  no 
doubt,  the  poet  owed  the  love  of  music  of  which  we  see 
frequent  indications  in  the  poems  ^.  Realising,  too,  that 
in  his  son  lay  the  promise  and  possibility  of  future 
greatness,  John  Milton  took  the  utmost  pains  to  have 
the  boy  adequately  educated  ;  and  the  lines  Ad  Patrein 
show  that  the  ties  of  affection  between  father  and  child 
were  of  more  than  ordinary  closeness. 

Milton  was  sent  to  St  Paul's  School  as  a  day-scholar 
Early  about  the  year  1620.  He  also  had  a  tutor, 
Training,  Thomas  Young,  a  Scotchman,  who  sub- 
sequently became  Master  of  Jesus  College,  Cambridge. 
More  important  still,  Milton  grew  up  in  the  stimulating 
atmosphere  of  cultured  home-life.  This  was  a  signal 
advantage.  There  are  few  who  realise  that  the  word 
'culture'  signifies  anything  very  definite  or  desirable  before 
they  pass  to  the  University  ;  for  Milton,  however,  home- 
life  meant,  from  the  first,  not  only  broad  interests  and 
refinement,  but  active  encouragement  towards  literature 
and  study.  In  1625  he  left  St  Paul's.  He  was  not  a 
precocious  genius,  a  'boy  poet,'  like  Chatterton  •  or 
Shelley.  Of  his  extant  English  poems ^  only  one.  On 
the  Death  of  a  Fair  Infant^  was  written  in  his  school- 
days.    But  his  early  training  had  done  that  which  was 

^  See  tlic  article  on  him  in  Grove's  Dictionary  of  Music . 

2  Milton  was  es})ecially  fond  of  the  organ;  see  note  on  // 
Penseroso,  161.  During  his  residence  at  Horton  Milton  made 
occasional  journeys  to  London  to  hear,  and  obtain  instruction 
in,  music. 

8  His  paraphrases  of  Psalms  cxiv,  cxxxvi,  scarcely  come 
under  this  heading. 


LIFE   OF   MILTON.  IX 

all-important  :  it  had  laid  the  foundation  of  the  far- 
ranging  knowledge  which  makes  Paradise  Lost  unique 
for  diversity  of  suggestion  and  interest. 

Milton  entered  at  Christ's  College,  Cambridge,  com- 
mencing residence  in  the  Easter  term  of  At 
1625.  Seven  years  were  spent  at  the  Cambridge. 
University.  He  took  his  B.A.  degree  in  1629,  proceeded 
M.A.  in  1632,  and  in  the  latter  year  left  Cambridge.  His 
experience  of  University  life  had  not  been  wholly  fortu- 
nate. He  was,  and  felt  himself  to  be,  out  of  sympathy 
with  his  surroundings ;  and  whenever  in  after-years 
he  spoke  of  Cambridge  ^  it  was  with  something  of 
the  resentfulness  of  Gibbon,  who  complained  that  the 
fourteen  months  which  he  spent  at  Oxford  were  the 
least  profitable  part  of  his  life.  Milton,  in  fact,  an- 
ticipates the  laments  that  we  find  in  the  correspondence 
of  Gray,  addressed  sometimes  to  Richard  West  and 
re-echoed  from  the  banks  of  the  I  sis.     It  may,  however, 

1  That  Milton's  feeling  towards  the  authorities  of  his  own 
college  was  not  entirely  unfiiendly  would  appear  from  the  fol- 
lowing sentences  written  in  1642.  He  takes,  he  says,  the 
opportunity  to  "  acknowledge  publicly,  with  all  grateful  mind, 
that  more  than  ordinary  respect  which  I  found,  above  many  of 
my  equals,  at  the  hands  of  those  courteous  and  learned  men,  the 
Fellows  of  that  college  wherein  I  spent  some  years;  who,  at  my 
parting  after  I  had  taken  two  degrees,  as  the  manner  is,  signified 
many  ways  how  much  better  it  would  content  them  that  I  would 
stay;  as  by  many  letters  full  of  kindness  and  loving  respect,  both 
before  that  time  and  long  after,  I  was  assured  of  their  singular 
good  affection  towards  me." — Apology  for  Smedymmius,  P.  W. 
III.  311.  Perhaps  Cambridge  would  have  been  more  congenial 
to  Milton  had  he  been  sent  to  Emmanuel  College,  long  a 
stronghold  of  Puritanism.  Dr  John  Preston,  then  Master  of  the 
College,  was  a  noted  leader  of  the  Puritan  party;  see  his  Life 
by  Thomas  Ball,  printed  in  1885  by  Mr  E.  W.  Harcourt  from 
the  MS.  at  Newnham  Court.  (The  abbreviation  P.  W.  -  Milton's 
Prose  Works,  Bohn's  ed.) 

V.  c.  b 


X  INTRODUCTION. 

be  fairly  assumed  that,  whether  consciously  or  not, 
Milton  owed  a  good  deal  to  his  University  ;  and  it 
must  not  be  forgotten  that  the  uncomplimentary  and 
oft-quoted  allusions  to  Cambridge  date  for  the  most  part 
from  the  unhappy  period  when  Milton  the  politician  and 
polemical  dogmatist  had  effectually  divorced  himself  at 
once  from  Milton  the  scholar  and  Milton  the  poet.  A 
poet  he  had  proved  himself  before  leaving  the  University. 
The  short  but  exquisite  ode  Ala  Solemn  Music,  and  the 
Nativity  Hyvin  (1629),  were  already  written. 

Milton's  father  had  settled^  at  Horton  in  Buckingham- 
shire. Thither  the  son  retired  in  1632.  He 
yearsU^^2—  ^^^  S^ne  to  Cambridge  with  the  intention  of 
1637)  spent  at  qualifying  for  some  profession,  perhaps  the 
Church 2.  This  purpose  was  soon  given  up, 
and  when  Milton  returned  to  his  father's  house  he  seems 
to  have  made  up  his  mind  that  there  was  no  profession 
which  he  cared  to  enter.  He  would  choose  the  better 
part  of  studying  and  preparing  himself,  by  rigorous  self- 
discipline  and  application,  for  the  far-off  divine  event  to 
which  his  whole  life  moved. 

It  was  Milton's  constant  resolve  to  achieve  something 

^  As  tenant  of  the  Earl  of  Bridgewater,  according  to  one 
account;  but  probably  the  tradition  arose  from  Milton's  subse- 
quent connection  with  the  Bridgewater  family. 

2  Cf.  Milton's  own  words,  "  The  Church,  to  whose  service 
by  the  intention  of  my  parents  and  friends  I  was  destined  of  a 
child,  and  in  my  own  resolutions."  What  kept  him  from  taking 
orders  was  not,  at  first,  any  difTerence  of  belief,  but  solely  his 
objection  to  Church  discipline  and  government.  "  Coming  to 
some  maturity  of  years,  and  perceiving  what  tyranny  had  invaded 
in  the  church,  that  he  who  would  take  orders  must  subscribe 

slave (I)  thought  it  better  to  prefer  a  blameless  silence  before 

the  sacred  office  of  speaking,  bought  and  begun  with  servitude 
and  forswearing." — Reason  of  Church  Government,  P.  //'.  ii. 
482.  Milton  disliked  in  particular  the  episcopal  system,  and 
spoke  of  himself  as  "  Church-outed  by  the  prelates." 


LIFE   OF   MILTON.  xi 

that  should  vindicate  the  ways  of  God  to  men,  something 
great^  that  should  justify  his  own  possession  The  key  to 
of  unique  powers — powers  of  which,  with  no  Milton's  life. 
trace  of  egotism,  he  proclaims  himself  proudly  conscious. 
The  feeling  finds  repeated  expression  in  his  prose  ;  it 
is  the  guiding-star  that  shines  clear  and  steadfast  even 
through  the  mists  of  politics.  He  has  a  mission  to  fulfil, 
a  purpose  to  accomplish,  no  less  than  the  most  earnest 
of  religious  enthusiasts  ;  and  the  means  whereby  this 
end  is  to  be  attained  are  fourfold  :  devotion  to  learn- 
ing, devotion  to  religion,  ascetic  purity  of  life,  and 
the  pursuit  of  o-TrovSator//?  or  "  excellent  seriousness "  of 
thought. 

This  period  of  self-centred  isolation  lasted  from  1632 
to  1637.  Gibbon  tells  us  among  the  many  wise  things 
contained  in  that  most  wise  book  the  Autobiography^ 
that  every  man  has  two  educations  :  that  which  he 
receives  from  his  teachers  and  that  which  he  owes  to 
himself;  the  latter  being  often  the  more  important. 
During  these  five  years  Milton  completed  his  second 
education  ;  ranging  the  whole  world  of  classical  antiquity 
and  absorbing  the  classical  genius  so  thoroughly  that  the 
ancients  were  to  him  what  they  afterwards  became  to 
Landor,  what  they  have  perhaps  never  become  to  any  other 
English  poet  in  the  same  degree,  even  as  the  very  breath 
of  his  being  ;  learning,  too,  all  of  art,  especially  music, 
that  contemporary  England  could  furnish ;  wresting  from 
modern  languages  and  literatures  their  last  secrets  ;  and 
combining  these  vast  and  diverse  influences  into  a 
splendid   equipment   of  hard-won,  well-ordered   culture. 

^  Cf.  the  second  sonnet;  "How  soon  hath  Time."  Ten 
years  later  (1641)  Milton  speaks  of  the  "inward  prompting 
which  grows  daily  upon  me,  that  by  labour  and  intent  study, 
which  I  take  to  be  my  portion  in  this  life,  joined  with  the  strong 
propensity  of  nature,  I  might  perhaps  leave  something  so  written 
to  after  times,  as  they  should  not  willingly  let  it  die" — Reason 
of  Church  Government,  P.  W.  ii.  477,  478. 

b2 


Xll  INTRODUCTION. 

The  world  has  known  many  greater  scholars  in  the 
technical,  limited  sense  than  Milton,  but  few  men,  if  any, 
who  have  mastered  more  things  worth  mastering  in  art, 
letters  and  scholarship^.  It  says  much  for  the  poet  that 
he  was  sustained  through  this  period  of  study,  pursued 
ohiie  Hast^  ohne  Rast^  by  the  full  consciousness  that  all 
would  be  crowned  by  a  masterpiece  which  should  add 
one  more  testimony  to  the  belief  in  that  God  who  ordains 
the  fates  of  men.  It  says  also  a  very  great  deal  for  the 
father  who  suffered  his  son  to  follow  in  this  manner  the 
path  of  learning^. 

True,  Milton  gave  more  than  one  earnest  of  his  future 

Milton's         fame.      The    dates    of    the    early   pieces — 

lyric  verse ;        L'Alleo^ro,    II   Pcmcvoso,    Avcades,    Com  lis 

its  relntiott  . 

to contem-  and  Lycidas — are  not  all  certain;  but  pro- 
porary  ije.  bably  each  was  composed  at  Horton  before 
1638.  We  must  speak  of  them  elsewhere.  Here  we  may 
note  that  four  of  them  have  great  autobiographic  value 
as  an  indirect  commentary,  written  from  Milton's  coign 
of  seclusion,  upon  the  moral  crisis  through  which  English 
life  and  thought  were  passing,  the  clash  between  the  care- 
less, pleasure-seeking  Cavalier  world  and  the  deepening 
austerity  of  Puritanism.  In  V Alki^ro  the  poet  holds  the 
balance  almost  equal  between  the  two  opposing  tendencies. 
In  II  Pcnsooso  it  becomes  clear  to  which  side  his  sym- 
pathies are  leaning.  Conms  is  a  covert  prophecy  of  the 
downfall  of  the  Court-party,  while  lycidas  openly  "fore- 
tells the  mine"  of  the  Established  Church.  The  latter 
poem    is   the    final    utterance   of   Milton's    lyric   genius. 

'  Milton's  poems  with  iheir  undercurrent  of  perpetual  allusion 
are  the  best  proof  of  the  width  of  his  reading;  but  interesting 
supplementary  evidence  is  afforded  hy  tlie  commonplace  hook 
discovered  in  1874,  and  printed  by  the  Camden  Society^  1876. 
It  contains  extracts  from  about  80  different  authors  whose  works 
Milton  had  studied. 

-  Cf.  the  poem  Ad  J'atni/i,  68-72,  in  wliidi  Milton  lliaiiks 
his  father  for  not  having  forced  him  to  be  a  merchant  or  lawyer. 


LIFE   OF   MILTON.  XIU 

Here  he  reaches,  in  Mr  Mark  Pattison's  words,  the  high- 
water  mark  of  English  verse  ;  and  then — the  pity  of  it — 
he  resigns  his  place  among  poets,  gives  himself  up 
to  politics,  and  for  nearly  twenty  years  suffers  his 
lyre  to  hang  mute  and  rusty  in  the  temple  of  the 
Muses. 

The  composition  of  Lycidas  may  be  assigned  to  the 
year  1637.     In  the  spring  of  the  next  year       Travels  in 
Milton  started  for  Italy.    He  had  long  made     Italy;  dose 

,  .  -^  r     T      1-  1      •  of  tJie first 

hmiself  a  master  01  Italian,  and  it  was  period  in  his 
natural  that  he  should  seek  inspiration  in  ^'^^• 
the  land  where  many  English  poets,  from  Chaucer  to 
Shelley,  have  found  it.  Milton  remained  abroad  some 
fifteen  months.  Originally  he  had  intended  to  include 
Sicily  and  Greece  in  his  travels,  but  news  of  the  troubles 
in  England  hastened  his  return.  He  was  brought  face  to 
face   with   the   question  whether  or  not  he       ^ 

^  Cause  of 

should  bear  his  part  in  the  coming  struggle  ;  his  return  to 
whether  without  self-reproach  he  could  lead  "^'^" 
any  longer  this  life  of  learning  and  indifference  to  the 
public  weal.  He  decided  as  we  might  have  expected 
that  he  would  decide,  though  some  good  critics  see 
cause  to  regret  the  decision.  Milton  puts  his  position 
very  clearly.  "  1  considered  it,"  he  says,  "  dishonourable 
to  be  enjoying  myself  at  my  ease  in  foreign  lands,  while 
my  countrymen  were  striking  a  blow  for  freedom."  And 
again  :  "  Perceiving  that  the  true  way  to  liberty  followed 
on  from  these  beginnings,  inasmuch  also  as  I  had  so 
prepared  myself  from  my  youth  that,  above  all  things,  1 
could  not  be  ignorant  what  is  of  Divine  and  what  of 
human  right,  I  resolved,  though  I  was  then  meditating 
certain  other  matters,  to  transfer  into  this  struggle  all  my 
genius  and  all  the  strength  of  my  industry." 

The   summer   of   1639   (July)  found   Milton  back  in 
England.     Immediately  after  his  return  he       The  second 
wrote  the  Epitaphiiini  Datiionis^  the  beautiful    period,  1639— 
elegy  in  which  he  lamented  the  death  of  his     abandofis poe- 
school  friend,  Diodati.     Lycidas  was  the  last     ^^y- 


xiv  INTRODUCTION. 

of  the  English  lyrics :  the  Epitaphimn^  which  should  be 
studied  in  close  connection  with  Lycidas,  the  last  of  the 
long  Latin  poems.  Thenceforth,  for  a  long  spell,  the  rest 
was  silence,  so  far  as  concerned  poetry.  The  period 
which  for  all  men  represents  the  strength  and  maturity  of 
manhood,  which  in  the  cases  of  other  poets  produces  the 
best  and  most  characteristic  work,  is  with  Milton  a 
blank.  In  twenty  years  he  composed  no  more  than  a 
bare  handful  of  Sonnets,  and  even  some  of  these  are 
infected  by  the  taint  of  political  animus.  Other  interests 
filled  his  thoughts — the  question  of  Church-reform,  edu- 
cation, marriage,  and,  above  all,  politics. 

Milton's  first  treatise  upon  the  government  of  the 
Pamphlets  Established  Church  {Of  Reformatio?i  toiich- 
"'^  ^J^i.^^"*''f''  mg  Church-Discipline  in  Engla7id)  appeared 
Hon.  in  1641.    Others  followed  in  quick  succession. 

The  abolition  of  Episcopacy  was  the  watchword  of  the 
enemies  of  the  Anglican  Church— the  great  rallying- 
cry  of  Puritanism,  and  no  one  enforced  the  point 
with  greater  eloquence  than  Milton.  During  1641  and 
1642  he  wrote  five  pamphlets  on  the  subject.  Meanwhile 
he  was  studying  the  principles  of  education.  On  his 
return  from  Italy  he  had  undertaken  the  training  of  his 
nephews ^  This  led  to  consideration  of  the  best  edu- 
cational methods ;  and  in  the  Tractate  on  Education, 
1644,  Milton  assumed  the  part  of  educational  theorist. 
In  the  previous  year,  May,  1643,  he  married^. 

arriage.  ^^^  marriage  proved,  at  the  time,  unfor- 
tunate.    Its   immediate  outcome  was  the  pamphlets  on 

1  Edward  and  John  Phillips,  sons  of  Milton's  only  sister. 
Both  subsequently  joined  the  Royalist  party.  To  Edward 
Phillips  we  owe  a  memoir  of  the  poet. 

2  His  wife  (who  was  only  seventeen)  was  Mary  Powell, 
eldest  daughter  of  Richard  Powell,  of  Forest  Hill,  a  village 
some  little  distance  from  Oxford.  She  went  to  stay  with  her 
father  in  July  1643,  and  refused  to  return  to  Milton;  why,  it  is 
not  certain.  She  was  reconciled  to  her  husband  in  1645,  bore 
him  four  children,  and  died  in  1652,  in  her  twenty-seventh  year. 


LIFE   OF    MILTON.  XV 

Divorce.  Clearly  he  had  little  leisure  for  literature 
proper. 

The  finest  of  Milton's  prose  works,  the  Areopagitica^ 
a  plea  for  the  free  expression  of  opinion,  was       political 
published  in  1644.     In  1645 ^  he  edited  the    Pamphlets. 

r-  11-  /-!•  T  /■         1-         Appointment 

first  collection  of  his  poems.     In   1649  his     to  Latin  Se- 
advocacy    of    the    anti-royalist    cause    was    cretaryship. 
recognised  by  the  offer  of  a  post  under  the  newly  ap- 
pointed Council  of  State.     His  bold  vindication  of  the 
trial  of  Charles  I.,  The  Temtre  of  Kings.,  had  appeared 
earlier   in   the   same   year.     Milton   accepted   the   offer, 

No  doubt,  the  scene  in  Paradise  Lost  x.  909 — 946,  in  which 
Eve  begs  forgiveness  of  Adam,  reproduced  the  poet's  personal 
experience,  while  many  passages  in  Samson  Agonistes  must 
have  been  inspired  by  the  same  cause. 

^  i.e.  old  style.  The  volume  was  entered  on  the  registers  of 
the  Stationers'  Company  under  the  date  of  October  6th,  1645. 
It  was  published  on  Jan.  2,  1646,  with  the  following  title- 
page: 

'■'•  Poems  of  Mr.  fohn  Milton.,  both  English  and  Latin, 
composed  at  several  times.  Printed  by  his  true  Copies.  The 
Songs  were  set  in  Mttsick  by  Mr.  Henry  Laxves,  gentleman  of  the 
King's  ChappeU  and  one  of  His  Majesties  private  Musick. 

' B  ace  are  front  em 

Cingite,  ne  vati  noceat  mala  lingua  futuro.^     ViRG.  Eel.  7. 

Printed  and  pnblisli'd  according  to  Order.  Lotidon,  Printed  by 
Ruth  Paworth,  for  Humphrey  Moseley,  atid  are  to  be  sold  at  the 
signe  of  the  Princes  Arms  in  Pauls  Churchyard.     1645." 

From  the  prefatory  Address  to  the  Reader  it  is  clear  that  the 
collection  was  due  to  the  initiative  of  the  publisher.  Milton's 
own  feeling  is  expressed  by  the  motto,  where  the  words  "  vati 
futnro''^  show  that,  as  he  judged,  his  great  achievement  was  yet 
to  come.  The  volume  was  divided  into  two  parts,  the  first 
containing  the  English,  the  second  the  Latin  poems.  Comus 
was  printed  at  the  close  of  the  former,  with  a  separate  title-page 
to  mark  its  importance. 


XVI  INTRODUCTION. 

becoming  Latin ^  Secretary  to  the  Committee  of  Foreign 
Affairs.  There  was  nothing  distasteful  about  his  duties. 
He  drew  up  the  despatches  to  foreign  governments, 
translated  state-papers,  and  served  as  interpreter  to 
foreign  envoys.  Had  his  duties  stopped  here  his  ac- 
ceptance of  the  post  would,  I  think,  have  proved  an 
unquaHfied  gain.     It  brought  him  into  contact  with  the 

The advnn-    ^"^^^^  "^^"  ^"  ^^  State-,  gavc  him  a  practical 

tageo/tiie         insight   into  the  working  of  national  affairs 

■  and  the  motives  of  human  action  ;  in  a  word, 

furnished  him  with  that  experience  of  life  which  is  essential 

to  all  poets  who  aspire  to  be  something  more  than  ''the  idle 

itsdisad-     singcrs  of  an  empty  day."    But  unfortunately 

vantage.  ^\^q  secretaryship  entailed  the  necessity  of 
defending  at  every  turn  the  past  course  of  the  revolution 
and  the  present  policy  of  the  Council.  Milton,  in  fact, 
held  a  perpetual  brief  as  advocate  for  his  party.  Hence 
the  endless  and  unedifying  controversies  into  which  he 
drifted;  controversies  which  wasted  the  most  precious 
years  of  his  life,  warped,  as  some  critics  think,  his  nature, 
and  eventually  cost  him  his  eyesight. 

Between  1649  ^'^<^  1660  Milton  produced  no  less  than 

Milton  s  eleven  pamphlets.  Several  of  these  arose  out  of 
ivritingson     the  publication  of  the  famous  Eikon  Basilike. 

behal/p/the     ^,        ,        ,  •  ,    •         ^ 

Common-  The  book  was  prmted  in  1649  and  created  so 
7veati.  great  an  impression  in  the  king's  favour  that 

Milton    was   asked    to   reply   to    it.     This    he    did    with 

*  A  Latin  Secretary  was  required  because  the  Council  scorned, 
as  Edward  TMiillips  says,  "  to  carry  on  their  affairs  in  the 
wheedling,  lisping  jargon  of  the  cringing  French."  Milton's 
salary  was  ;^288,  in  modern  money  about  jCgoo. 

-  There  is  no  proof  that  Milton  ever  had  personal  intercourse 
with  Cromwell,  and  Mr  Mark  I'attison  implies  that  he  was 
altogether  neglected  by  the  foremost  men  of  the  time.  Vet  it 
seems  unlikely  that  the  Secretary  of  the  Committee  should  not 
have  been  on  friendly  terms  with  some  of  its  members,  Vane,  for 
example,  and  Whiteiocke. 


LIFE   OF   MILTON.  XVll 

EikonoklasteSy  introducing  the  wholly  unworthy  sneer  at 
Sidney's  Arcadia  and  the  awkwardly  expressed  reference 
to  Shakespeare ^  Controversy  of  this  barren  type  has 
the  inherent  disadvantage  that  once  started  it  may  never 
end.  The  Royalists  commissioned  the  Leyden  professor, 
Salmasius,  to  prepare  a  counterblast,  the  Defensio  Regia^ 
and  this  in  turn  was  met  by  Milton's  Pro  Populo 
Anglicano  Defejisio^  ^651,  over  the  pre-  His  blind- 
paration  of  which  he  lost  what  little  power  ''''^^ 
of  eyesight  remained-.  Salmasius  retorted,  and  died 
before  his  second  collection  of  scurrilities  was  issued  : 
Milton  was  bound  to  answer,  and  the  Defensio  Seciinda 

^  See  UAL  133 — 134,  note.  It  would  have  been  more  to 
the  point  to  remind  his  readers  that  the  imprisoned  king  must 
have  spent  a  good  many  hours  over  La  Calpi-enede's  Cassandre. 

^  Perhaps  this  was  the  saddest  part  of  the  episode.  Milton 
tells  us  in  the  Defensio  Secunda  that  his  eyesight  was  injured  by 
excessive  study  in  boyhood  :  "  from  the  twelfth  year  of  my  age 
I  scarce  ever  left  my  lessons  and  went  to  bed  before  midnight. 
This  was  the  first  cause  of  my  blindness."  Continual  reading 
and  writing  must  have  increased  the  infirmity,  and  by  1650  the 
sight  of  the  left  eye  had  gone.  He  was  warned  that  he  must  not 
use  the  other  for  book-work.  Unfortunately  this  was  just  the 
time  when  the  Commonwealth  stood  most  in  need  of  his  services. 
If  Milton  had  not  written  the  first  Defence  he  might  have 
retained  his  partial  vision.  The  choice  lay  between  private  good 
and  public  duty.  He  repeated  in  1650  the  sacrifice  of  1639. 
"In  such  a  case  I  could. not  listen  to  the  physician,  not  if 
yEsculapius  himself  had  spoken  from  his  sanctuary ;  I  could  not 
but  obey  that  inward  monitor,  I  know  not  what,  that  spoke  to 

me  from  heaven I  concluded  to  employ  the  little  remaining 

eyesight  I  was  to  enjoy  in  doing  this,  the  greatest  service  to  the 
common  weal  it  was  in  my  power  to  render"  (Second  Defence). 
By  the  Spring  of  1652  Milton  was  quite  blind.  He  was  then  in 
his  forty-fourth  year.  The  allusion  in  Paradise  Lost.,  in.  21 — 26, 
leaves  it  doubtful  from  what  disease  he  suffered,  whether  cataract 
or  amaurosis.  Throughout  Samson  Agonistes  there  are  frequent 
references  to  his  affliction. 


XVlll  INTRODUCTION. 

appeared  in  1654.  Neither  of  the  combatants  gained 
anything  by  the  dispute ;  while  the  subsequent  develop- 
ment of  the  controversy  in  which  Milton  crushed  the 
Amsterdam  pastor  and  professor,  Morus,  goes  far  to 
prove  the  contention  of  Mr  Mark  Pattison,  that  it  was  an 
evil  day  when  the  poet  left  his  study  at  Horton  to  do 
battle  for  the  Commonwealth  amid  the  vulgar  brawls  of 
the  market-place : 

"  Not  here,   O  Apollo, 
Were  haunts  meet  for  thee." 

Fortunately  this  poetic  interregnum  in   Milton's  life 
,^,     „  was  not  destined  to  last  much  longer.     The 

rhe   Res  to-  ° 

ration  re-  Restoration  came,  a  blessing  in  disguise, 
from  poiiiLs.  ^^^  '^^  1660  the  ruin  of  Milton's  political 
Return  to  party  and  of  his  personal  hopes,  the  absolute 
overthrow  of  the  cause  for  which  he  had 
fought  for  twenty  years,  left  him  free.  The  author  of 
Lycidas  could  once  more  become  a  poet^ 

Much    has   been    written   upon    this    second    period. 

Should  ^^2)9 — 1660,  and  a  word  may  be  said  here. 

Milton    have    We  saw  what  parting  of  the  ways  Confronted 

kept         apart  '^  '^  -^  t-.-ii 

from  political    Miltou   ou    his   return  from   Italy.     Did  he 
■^^ '  choose  aright.'*     Should  he  have  continued 

upon  the  path  of  learned  leisure  ?  There  are  writers  who 
One  reply  to  argue  that  Milton  made  a  mistake.  A  poet, 
this  question,  they  say,  should  keep  clear  of  political  strife  : 
fierce  controversy  can  benefit  no  man  :  who  touches  pitch 
must  expect  to  be,  certainly  will  be,  defiled :  Milton 
sacrificed  twenty  of  the  best  years  of  his  life,  doing  work 
which  an  underling  could  have  done  and  which  was  not 

^  We  have  not  attempted  to  trace  the  growth  of  Milton's 
political  and  relii^ious  opinions:  "Through  all  these  stages," 
Mr  Mark  Pattison  writes,  "  Milton  passed  in  the  space  of  twenty 
years — Church-Puritan,  Presbyterian,  Royalist,  Independent, 
Conimonwealtli's  man,  Oliverian."  To  illustrate  tliis  statement 
would  need  many  pages. 


LIFE   OF   MILTON.  XiX 

worth  doing :  another  Covins  might  have  been  written,  a 
loftier  Lyddai:  that  hterature  should  be  the  poorer  by 
the  absence  of  these  possible  masterpieces,  that  the 
second  greatest  genius  which  England  has  produced 
should  in  a  way  be  the  "  inheritor  of  unfulfilled  renown," 
is  and  must  be  a  thing  entirely  and  terribly  deplorable. 
This  is  the  view  of  the  purely  literary  critic.  Mr  Mark 
Pattison  writes  very  much  to  this  effect. 

There  remains  the  other  side  of  the  question.  It  may 
fairly  be  contended  that  had  Milton  elected  The  opposite 
in  1639  to  live  the  scholar's  life  apart  from  '"''^^'^• 
"  the  action  of  men,"  Paradise  Lost,  as  we  have  it,  could 
never  have  been  written^  Knowledge  of  life  and  human 
nature,  insight  into  the  problems  of  men's  motives  and 
emotions,  grasp  of  the  broader  issues  of  the  human 
tragedy,  all  these  were  essential  to  the  author  of  an  epic 
poem  ;  they  could  only  be  obtained  through  commerce 
with  the  world ;  they  would  have  remained  beyond  the 
reach  of  a  recluse.  Dryden  complained  that  Milton  saw 
nature  through  the  spectacles  of  books:  we  might  have 
had  to  complain  that  he  saw  men  through  the  same 
medium.  Fortunately  it  is  not  so:  and  it  is  not  so 
because  at  the  age  of  twenty-two  he  threw  in  his  fortunes 
with  those  of  his  country;  Hke  the  diver  in  Schiller's 
ballad  he  took  the  plunge  which  was  to  cost  him  so  dear. 
The  mere  man  of  letters  will  never  move  the  world. 
/Eschylus  fought  at  Marathon  :  Shakespeare  was  practical 
to  the  tips  of  his  fingers;  a  better  business  man  than 
Goethe  there  was  not  within  a  radius  of  a  hundred  miles 
of  Weimar. 

This  aspect  of  the  question  is  emphasised  by  Milton 
himself.    The  man,  he  says,  "  who  would  not      Milton's 
be  frustrate  of  his  hope  to  write  well  here-     oivn  opinion. 
after  in  laudable  things,  ought  himself  to  be  a  true  poem, 
that  ifj,  a  composition  and  pattern  of  the  best  and  honour- 

^  This  is  equally  true  of  Saw  son  Agoitistes, 


xxii  INTRODUCTION. 

MSS.  at  Trinity  College ^  shew  that  exactly  ninety-nine 
possible  themes  occupied  his  thoughts  from  time  to  time; 
but  even  as  early  as  1641  the  story  of  the  lost  Paradise 
began  to  assume  prominence.  Still,  even  when  the  subject 
was  definitely  chosen,  the  question  of  its  treatment- 
dramatic  or  epic — remained.  Milton  contemplated  the 
former.  He  even  commenced  work  upon  a  drama  of 
which  Satan's  address  to  the  sun  in  the  fourth  book  of 
Paradise  Losf^  formed  the  exordium.  These  lines  were 
written  about  1642.  Milton  recited  them  to  his  nephew 
Phillips  at  the  time  of  their  composition.  Possibly,  had 
Milton  not  been  distracted  and  diverted  from  poetry  by 
political  and  other  interests,  he  might  from  1642  onwards 
have  continued  this  drama,  and  thus  produced  a  drama- 
tic masterpiece  akin  to  Samson  Agonistes.  As  things  fell 
out,  the  scheme  was  dropped,  and  never  taken  up  again. 
When  he  finally  addressed  himself  to  the  composition  of 
Paradise  Lost  he  had  decided  in  favour  of  the  epic  or 
narrative  form. 

Following  Aubrey  (from  Aubrey  and  Phillips  most  of 

Paradise     o^r  information  concerning  Milton  is  derived) 

Lost  begun,     ^yg  j^^y  assumc  that  Milton  began  to  write 

Paradise  Lost  about   1658.     He  worked  continuously  at 

the  epic  for  some  five  years.     It  was  finished  in  1663,  the 

year  of  his  third^  marriage.     Two  more  years,  however, 


^  They  include  the  original  drafts  of  Arcades,  Comus, 
Lyddas,  and  some  of  the  minor  poems,  together  with  Milton's 
notes  on  the  design  of  the  long  poem  he  meditated  composing, 
and  other  less  important  papers.  The  MSS.  were  presented  to 
Trinity  by  a  former  mcml:)er  of  the  college,  Sir  Henry  Newton 
Tuckering,  who  died  in  1700.  It  is  not  known  how  they 
originally  came  into  his  possession. 

-  Bk.  IV.  II.  32  et  seq. 

'^  Milton's  second  marriage  took  place  in  the  autumn  of  i6s,6, 
i.e.  after  he  had  become  blind.  His  wife  died  in  February, 
1658.    Cf.    the  Sonnet,   "  Mcthought  I  saw  my  latfe  espoused 


LIFE   OF   MILTON.  xxiii 

were  spent  in  the  necessary  revision,  and  in  1665  Milton 
placed  the  completed  poem  in  the  hands  of  his  friend 
Thomas  Ell  wood  1.  In  1667  Paradise  Lost  The  poem 
was  issued  from  the  press^.  Milton  received  published. 
£^.  Before  his  death  he  was  paid  a  second  instalment, 
£^.  Six  editions  of  the  poem  had  been  published  by  the 
close  of  the  century. 

When  EUwood  returned  the  MS.  of  Paradise  Lost  to 
Milton   he  remarked:    "Thou   hast   said  much  here  of 
Paradise  Lost.,  but  what  hast  thou  to  say  of 
Paradise  found.?"    Possibly  we  owe /*<2r<3:^/.y^    Ke^Tmed: 
Regained \.o  these  chance  words:  or  the  poem,    Samson 

^  .  '  r  '      Agontstes. 

forming  as  it  does  a  natural  pendant  to  its 
predecessor,  may  have  been  included  in  Milton's  original 
design.  In  any  case  he  must  have  commenced  the  second 
epic  about  the  year  1665.  Samson  Agonistes  appears  to 
have  been  written  a  little  later.  The  two  poems  were 
published  together  in   167 1. 

In  giving  this  bare  summary  of  facts  it  has  not  been 

saint,"  the  pathos  of  which  is  heightened  by  the  fact  that  he  had 
never  seen  her. 

^  Cf.  the  account  given  in  Ellwood's  Antobiogrdphy :  "after 
some  common  discourses  had  passed  between  us,  he  called  for  a 
manuscript  of  his  ;  which,  being  brought,  he  delivered  to  me, 
bidding  me  take  it  home  with  me  and  read  it  at  my  leisure,  and, 
when  I  had  so  done,  return  it  to  him  with  my  judgment  there- 
upon. When  I  came  home,  and  had  set  myself  to  read  it,  I 
found  it  was  that  excellent  poem  which  he  intituled  Paradise 

Lost:' 

-  The  delay  was  due  to  external  circumstances.  Milton  had 
been  forced  by  the  Plague  to  leave  London,  settling  for  a  time  at 
Chalfont  St  Giles  in  Buckinghamshire,  where  EUwood  had  taken 
a  cottage  for  him.  On  his  return  to  London,  after  "the  sickness 
was  over,  and  the  city  well  cleansed,"  the  Great  Fire  threw 
everything  into  disorder;  and  there  was  some  little  difficulty 
over  the  licensing  of  the  poem.  For  these  reasons  the  publication 
oi  Paradise  Lost  was  delayed  till  the  autumn  of  1667  (Masson). 


XXIV  INTRODUCTION. 

our  purpose  to  offer  any  criticism  upon  the  poems.  It 
would  take  too  much  space  to  show  why  Samson  Agonistes 
is  in  subject-matter  the  poet's  threnody  over  the  fallen 
form  of  Puritanism,  and  in  style  the  most  perfectly 
classical  poem  in  English  literature ;  or  again,  why 
some  great  writers  (among  them  Coleridge  and  Words- 
worth) have  pronounced  Paradise  Regained  to  be  in 
point  of  artistic  execution  the  most  consummate  of  Milton's 
works — a  judgment  which  would  have  pleased  the  author 
himself  since,  according  to  Phillips,  he  could  never  endure 
to  hear  Paradise  Regained  "censured  to  be  much  inferior 
to  Paradise  Lost."  The  latter  speaks  for  itself  in  the 
rolling  splendour  of  those  harmonies  which  Tennyson 
has  celebrated  and  alone  in  his  time  equalled. 

In    1673   Milton  brought  out    a  reprint   of  the    1645 

Close  of         edition  of  his   Poems,   adding   most  of  the 

Milton's  life,     sonncts^  written   in   the   interval.     The  last 

four  years  of  his  life  were  devoted  to  prose  works  of  no 

^  The  number  of  Milton's  sonnets  is  twenty-three  (if  we 
exclude  the  piece  on  "The  New  Forcers  of  Conscience"),  five 
of  which  were  written  in  Italian,  probably  during  the  time  of  his 
travels  in  Italy,  1638 — 9.  Ten  sonnets  were  printed  in  the 
edition  of  1645,  ^^^^  ^^^t  of  ihcm  being  that  entitled  (from  the 
Cambridge  MS.)  "To  the  Lady  Margaret  Ley."  The  remaining 
thirteen  were  composed  between  1645  and  165S.  The  conclud- 
ing sonnet,  therefore  (to  the  memory  of  Milton's  second  wife), 
immediately  preceded  his  commencement  of  Paradise  Lost.  Four 
of  these  poems  (xv.  xvi.  xvii.  xxii.)  could  not,  on  account  of 
their  political  tone,  be  included  in  the  edilion  of  1673.  They 
were  first  published  by  Edward  Phillips  at  the  end  of  his  n»enioir 
of  Milton,  1694.  The  sonnet  on  the  "Massacre  in  Piedmont" 
is  usually  considered  the  finest  of  the  collection,  of  which  the 
late  Rector  of  Lincoln  College  edited  a  well-known  edition, 
j<S83.  The  sonnet  inscribed  with  a  diamond  on  a  window  pane 
in  the  cottage  at  Chalfont  where  the  poet  stayed  in  1665  is  (in 
the  judgment  of  a  good  critic)  Miltonic,  if  not  Milton's  (Garnett's 
/,  ij'c  of  Milton ,  p.  175). 


LIFE   OF   MILTON.  XXV 

particular  interest  to  us\  He  continued  to  live  in 
London.  His  third  marriage  had  proved  happy,  and 
he  enjoyed  something  of  the  renown  which  was  rightly 
his.  Various  well-known  men  used  to  visit  him — notably 
Dryden^,  who  on  one  of  his  visits  asked  and  received 
permission  to  dramatise  Paradise  Lost. 

Milton  died  in  1674,  November  8th.  He  was  buried 
in  St  Giles's  Church,  Cripplegate.    When  we       „.    ,    ^, 

^  .    ,        -  His  death. 

think  of  him  we  have  to  thmk  of  a  man  who 
lived  a  life  of  very  singular  purity  and  devotion  to  duty* 
who  for  what  he  conceived  to  be  his  country's  good 
sacrificed — and  no  one  can  well  estimate  the  sacrifice — 
during  twenty  years  the  aim  that  was  nearest  to  his  heart 
and  best  suited  to  his  genius  ;  who,  however,  eventually 
realised  his  desire  of  writing  a  great  work  in  gloria?n 
Dei. 

^  The  treatise  on  Christian  Doctrine  is  valuable  as  throwing 
much  light  on  the  theological  views  expressed  in  the  two  epic 
poems  and  Samson  Agonistes. 

2  The  lines  by  Dryden  which  were  printed  beneath  the 
portrait  of  Milton  in  Tonson's  folio  edition  of  Paradise  Lost 
published  in  1688  are  too  familiar  to  need  quotation  ;  but  it  is 
worth  noting  that  the  younger  poet  had  in  Milton's  lifetime 
described  the  great  epic  as  "  one  of  the  most  noble,  and  most 
sublime  poems  which  either  this  age  or  nation  has  produced" 
(prefatory  essay  to  The  State  of  Innocence,  1674).  Further, 
tradition  assigned  to  Dryden  (a  Roman  Catholic  and  a  Royalist) 
the  remark,  "this  fellow  (Milton)  cuts  us  all  out  and  the  ancients 
too." 


V.  C. 


XXVI  INTRODUCTION. 


COMUS. 


Comtis  was  probably  written  in  the  spring  of   1634. 

Tliere  can  be  no  doubt  that  its  composition  was  due  to 

Milton's   intimate    friend    Henry    Lawes,    the   musician. 

Among   Lawes's  pupils  were  the  family  of  the  Earl  of 

,,.,  Bridgewater,  son-in-law  of  the  Countess  of 

%>ritten,  and      Derby,  in  whose  honour  AraiJes  was  written. 

In  July  1 63 1  the  Earl  of  Bridgewater  was 
made  Lord-Lieutenant  of  the  counties  on  the  Welsh 
border  and  of  North  and  South  Wales — a  viceregal  post 
similar  to  the  Lord-Lieutenancy  of  Ireland.  For  some 
reason  the  Earl's  formal  entry  on  his  duties  was  delayed 
till  the  autumn  of  1634.  To  celebrate  the  event  great 
festivities  were  held  at  his  official  residence,  Ludlow 
Castle.  The  first  performance  of  Comiis  was  part  of 
these  festivities.  It  took  place  on  Michaelmas  night, 
1634.  Doubtless  Lawes,  as  music-master  to  the  Earl's 
family,  and  as  a  practised  writer  of  Masque-music,  had 
been  asked  to  undertake  the  provision  of  an  entertainment 
suitable  to  the  occasion,  and  had  applied  to  Milton  for 
help.  With  the  Puritan  Milton  of  later  years,  who  in 
Paradise  Lost,  iv.  764,  decried  "  mixed  dance  or  wanton 
masque,"  the  petition  would  have  fared  ill.  But  at  this  time 
there  could  be  nothing  distasteful  in  it.  Milton  showed 
himself  in  V Allegro  friendly  to  the  stage,  admitting 
"masque  and  antique  pageantry"  among  the  legitimate 
delights  that  Mirth  might  offer.  Further,  there  was  the 
desire  to  do  a  service  to  his  friend  Lawes.  Milton 
accepted  the  commission,  and  Coinus  was  the  outcome. 

Probably  he  wrote  the  piece  early  in  1634. 
Date 0/       j^   -^^^  j^Q   Ijj,    ready  by  the  autumn;    and 

time  would  be  required  for  the  setting  of  the 
music,  and  for  all  the  preparations  incidental  to  the 
representation  of  an  unusually  long  Masque.     The  spring 


COMUS.  xxvii 

therefore  of  1634  may  be  received  with  some  confidence 
as  the  date  of  the  composition  of  Comus. 

Whether  the  play  was  successful  at  its  representation 
we  do  not  know.  Many  of  Lawes's  friends  evidently 
appreciated  it.  Some  were  present  in  the  Hall  at  Ludlow 
Castle  on  that  September  evening;  others,  perhaps,  heard 
the  songs  afterwards  sung  by  Lawes  himself  or  his  pupils. 
They  realised  that  there  was  in  England  a  poet  of  rare 
promise  and  exquisite  performance.  Copies  of  Comus 
were  asked  for  ;  it  became  "much  desired  1."  At  last,  to 
save  himself  the  trouble  of  making  these  transcripts, 
Lawes  published  an  edition  of  Conms^  probably  from  the 
MS.  which  had  been  used  as  the  acting-version.  This, 
the   first   edition  of  Comris.  was   issued  in       ™,    ^    , 

'  The  first 

1637.     The  title-page  describes  the  poem  as    edition  0/ 
"A  Maske  presented  at  Ludlow  Castle,  1634, 
on  Michaelmasse   Night,  before  the  Right   Honourable 
John,    Earle   of  Bridge  water.   Viscount    Brackley,    Lord 
President    of  Wales,    and   one   of   his    Majcstie's   most 
honourable  Privy  Counsell. 

'■  Eheu  quid  vohii  viisero  mihi!  fiorihiis  Atistrum 
Perditus—''' 

It  will  be  observed  that  Milton's  name  is  omitted. 
The  motto,  however  (from  Vergil,  Eclogt^e,  11.  58,  59), 
shows  that  his  consent  to  the  publication  had  been 
obtained:  "Alas!  what  have  I  been  about  in  my  folly! 
On  my  flowers  I  have  let  in  the  sirocco  (i.e.  the  hot 
south-east  wind),  infatuate  as  I  am."  The  last  words 
imply  that  Milton  had  some  doubt  as  to  the  expediency 
of  printing  the  volume.  Had  Lawes  issued  the  imprint 
against  the  wishes  of  Milton,  the  motto  chosen  would 
have  been  pointless.  It  reminds  us  of  the  reluctance  to 
break  his  silence  "  before  the  mellowing  year "  which  he 
expressed  at  the  beginning  of  Lycidas  in  that  same  year, 

^  See  p.  3. 

e  2 


xxviii  INTRODUCTION. 

1637.  That  at  least  one  competent  and  discerning  critic 
was  ready  to  welcome  the  new  voice  in  English  verse 
we  may  judge  from  Sir  Henry  Wotton's  complimentary 
letter  to  Milton ^ 

Editions  of  Milton's  minor  poems  appeared  in   1645 
^   ,  and  1673.     Coj?ius,  of  course,  was  printed  in 

Later  '  ^  '  . 

editions  of  each.  In  neither,  however,  did  he  describe 
omus.  ^^^  poem  by  the  name  it  has  long  borne. 
The  title  in  the  1645  edition  reads  thus:  "A  Mask  of 
the  Same  Author,  Presented  at  Ludlow  Castle,  1634, 
before  the  Earl  of  Bridgewater,  then  President  of  Wales : 
Anno  Dom.  1645."  The  title  of  the  later  edition  is  almost 
identical.  A  more  definite  designation  being  desirable, 
the  Masque  was  named  Comus  after  its  chief  character. 
The  basis  of  the  text  of  Conms  is  supplied  by 
the  three  above-mentioned  editions — that  of 
Lawes,  1637,  and  those  of  Milton,  1645  ^"^ 
1673.  Milton's  original  draft  of  the  poem  is  among  the 
MSS.^  at  Cambridge;  and  the  Bridgewater  manuscript, 
supposed  to  be  the  stage-copy  from  which  the  actors 
learned  their  parts,  and  believed  to  be  in  Lawes's  hand- 
writing, also  survives.  All  the  differences  between  these 
five  authorities — on  the  whole,  not  inconsiderable  differ- 
ences— we  have  not  attempted  to  record.  A  careful 
comparison  of  them  was  given  by  Todd,  and  it  is 
instructive  to  note  the  unerring  instinct  with  which 
Milton,  like  Tennyson,  always  corrected  his  work  for  the 
better.  Perhaps  the  last  of  the  editions  published  during 
Milton's  life  has  the  most  weight.  It  gives  us  Comus, 
not  as  the  Masque  originally  left  Milton's  hands — for  that 
we  must  turn  to  the  Cambridge  MS. — but  in  the  finally 
revised  form  which  he  wished  it  to  assume.  There  is  a 
single  passage  where  one  is  fain  to  believe  that  the 
Cambridge  manuscript  is  right,  and  the  printed  copies 

^  See  p.  4. 

^  i.e.  the  iMilton  IMSS.  at  Trinity  College;  see  p.  xxii. 


COMUS.  XX  ix 

wrong.  This  is  line  553.  Milton's  blindness  necessarily 
introduces  a  slight  uncertainty  as  to  the  text  of  his  poems 
published  in  the  latter  part  of  his  hfe. 

Such,  in  brief,  is  the  external  history  of  Coinus. 
Something  must  be  said  about  the  poem  itself — the 
sources  from  which  Milton  drew,  the  undercurrent  of 
idea  that  runs  throughout,  the  dramatic  value  of  the 
Masque,  its  ethical  and  literary  qualities. 

In  lines  43—45  the  Attendant  Spirit  says  : 

' '  I  will  tell  you  now 
What  never  yet  was  heard  in  tale  or  song,  The  sources^ 

From  old  or  modern  bard,  in  hall  or  bower." 

This  claim  to  absolute  originality  must  not  be  pressed. 
Milton  was  indebted  in  Comus,  in  some  measure,  to 
previous  writers.  We  shall  best  be  able  to  estimate  the 
debt  if  we  split  up  the  Masque  into  its  chief  component 
parts. 

There  is  (i)  the  main  story  :    that  of  the  sister  lost 
in  a  wood,  entrapped  by  a  magician,  and 
rescued  by  her  brothers  ;  with  the  attendant    dd>ur'' 
incidents.     This  Milton   owed,  it  is  almost    Georgej>eeie 
certain,  to  the   Old   Wives'  Tale  (1595)   of 
George  Peele,  the  Elizabethan  poet  (1558 — 1598).    Warton 
summarised  thus  the  points  of  contact  between  Comiis 
and   the    Old  Wives'    Tale :    "  This   curious   piece   (i.e. 
Peele's  play)  exhibits,  among  other  parallel  incidents,  two 
Brothers  wandering  in  quest  of  their  Sister,  whom  an 
Enchanter  had  imprisoned.     This  magician  had  learned 
his  art   from   his   mother    Meroe,  as    Comus   had  been 
instructed  by  his  mother  Circe.     The  Brothers  call  out 
the    Lady's  name,  and   Echo  replies  1.     The  Enchanter 
had  given  her  a  potion  which   suspends   the  power  of 
reason,    and    superinduces    oblivion    of    herself.      The 
Brothers  afterwards  meet  with  an  Old  Man,  who  is  also 
skilled  in  magic  ;   and  by  listening  to  his  soothsayings, 

^  In  Comus  it  is  the  Lady  who  invokes  the  Echo. 


XXX  INTRODUCTION. 

they  recover  their  lost  Sister.  But  not  till  the  Enchanter's 
wreath  has  been  torn  from  his  head,  his  sword  wrested 
from  his  hand,  a  glass  broken,  and  a  light  extinguished." 

Warton's  abstract  of  the  Old  Wives'  Tale  somewhat 
accentuates  the  resemblance.  It  does  not  strike  us  quite 
so  forcibly  when  we  read  Peele's  work.  Sliil  the  similarity 
is  there,  and  Milton's  indebtedness  to  Peele  is  universally 
admitted. 

The  popular  tradition,  still  extant,  as  to  the  genesis  of 

Comus  must  also  be  mentioned.    This  was  to 

tionai account    the  cftect  that  the  young  Lady  Alice  Egerton 

"■^..{{'■^r-'"'^^"';,      and  her  two  brothers,  Viscount  Brackley  and 

oj     tonus.  '  •' 

Mr  Thomas  Egerton,  were  actually  overtaken 
by  nightfall  in  Haywood  Forest,  near  Ludlow  :  they  were 
returning  to  the  castle  from  a  visit  to  their  relatives,  the 
Egertons,  in  Herefordshire,  and  the  sister  was  separated 
from  her  brothers.     If  this  ever  took  place  and  news  of  it 
reached   ?vl ikon's  ears,  then  he    simply  dramatised  the 
episode  ;  though  part  of  his  debt  to  Peele,  viz.  the  intro- 
duction of  the  magician,  would  still  remain.    But  it  seems 
more  probable  that  the  legend,  which  cannot  be  traced 
further  back  than  the  last  century,  grew  out  of  the  Masque. 
(2)   The  chief  character  of  the  piece,  Comus,  introduces 
another  element  in  the  story.     He  is  in  all 
rac'terof       csscntials  the  creation  of  Milton.    In  classical 
Comus,  the     Qi-^ek   KMuos  signifies  'revel'  or  'revelling- 

■ntagicuin.  r  o  o 

band.'  The  word  km/jlos  was  specially  used 
of  the  band  of  revellers^  at  the  vintage  festivals  held  in 
honour  of  Dionysus  the  god  of  wine  (  =  the  Roman  god 
Bacchus).  Thence  naturally  arose  the  personification 
Comus,  i.e.  revelling  or  sensual  pleasure  regarded  as  a 

^  The  Cambridge  MS  of  Comus  lias  the  stage-direction 
"intrant  /cwyaa^oj/res "  ('they  enter  in  revelling  fashion')  at  line 
93.  And  in  the  list  of  possible  subjects  of  Milton's  great  poem  is 
the  entry  "  Comazontes,  or  The  Benjaminites,  or  The  Rioters," 
with  references  iojud^^es  xix,  xx,  xxi. 


COMUS.  xxxi 

kind  of  deity;  but  this  is  a  post-classical  conception, 
known  only  to  later  mythology.  Apparently  this  deity 
Comus  is  first  mentioned  by  the  Greek  writer  Philostratus 
the  elder,  who  lived  in  the  third  century  A.D.  and  wrote 
a  book  on  paintings,  under  the  title  "  Likenesses,  Por- 
traits" {Imagines).  Philostratus  describes  a  fresco  in 
which  Comus  is  represented  as  a  youth  ruddy  with  wine, 
but  the  account  is  too  slight  to  have  been  of  much  service 
to  Milton,  even  if  he  was  familiar  with  it.  More  definite 
is  the  picture  drawn  by  Ben  Jonson  in  the  Masque  of 
Pleasure  Reconciled  to  Vi?'tue  (1619).  Comus  is  a 
character  in  that  Masque  and  described  as 

"The  founder  of  taste 
For  fresh  meats,  or  powdered,  or  pickle,  or  paste ; 
Devourer  of  boiled,   baked,  roasted  or  sod ; 
An  emptier  of  cups." 

Obviously  this  sordid  power  of  dull,  "lust-dieted"  appetite 
has  not  very  much  in  common  with  Milton's  blithe, 
caressing  personification  of  pleasure,  so  fatal  because 
outwardly  so  beautiful;  though  I  do  not  doubt  that 
Milton  knew  Ben  Jonson's  Masque. 

There  is  also  a  certain  Latin  play  which  may  have 
given  suggestions  and  which  from  its  title       tj  l  f 
deserves   to   be   mentioned.     It    was   called     Play, 
Comus.      It   was   written   by   a    Dutchman, 
Hendrik  van  der  Putten  (better  known  under  the  name 
of  Erycius   Puteanus),  sometime   professor  at  Louvain. 
First  printed  in  1608,  his  Comus  was  reissued  at  Oxford 
in    1634,    a   remarkable    coincidence.      The    Comus    of 
Puteanus  is  a  much  subtler,  embodiment  of  sensuality 
than    the   cup-quaffing   deity   of    Ben   Jonson  ;    he   ap- 
proximates more  to   the  graceful  reveller  and  enticing 
magician  of  Milton,  and  I  should  be  loath  to  acquit  Milton 
of  all  indebtedness  to  Puteanus.     I  think  that  he  must 
have  gone  through  the  Latin  piece,  picking  out  from  the 
worthless  slag  an  occasional  atom  of  genuine  ore. 


XXXll  INTRODUCTION. 

The  extremely  appropriate  parentage  which  is  assigned 
to  Comus  (46 — 58)  was  Milton's  own  invention.  It  was 
partly  suggested,  no  doubt,  by  the  association  of  the  word 
Kw^os  with  Dionysus  (Bacchus).  Milton's  purpose  in 
making  Comus  the  son  of  Circe  and  inheritor  of  her 
magic  powers  was  to  bring  out  the  enticing  aspect  of 
sensual  pleasure,  which  seeks  to  cast  its  beguiling  spells 
upon  men. 

(3)  The  third  strand  in  the  material  out  of  which 
,,.,,   ,  Cofnus    is    woven   is    the    Circe-myth.      In 

Mtlton  s  use  ,    ,  •' 

o/the  legend  describing  the  .supernatural  powers  of  Comus 
Milton  transfers  to  the  wizard  the  classical 
attributes  of  his  mother  Circe.  Like  Vergil  and  Ovid 
before  him,  he  lays  the  Odyssey  under  large  contribution : 
so  had  Spenser  in  his  account  qf  the  enchantress  Acrasia 
in  The  Faerie  Queeiie^  II.  12,  55  et  seq.  Browne,  too,  had 
made  the  adventure  of  Odysseus  and  his  crew  at  the  island 
of  Circe  the  theme  of  The  Inner  Temple  Masque  (1614). 
Probably  each  account — certainly  Spenser's — was  known 
to  Milton,  and  may  have  exercised  an  unconscious  in- 
fluence upon  him,  e.g.  in  the  turn  of  a  phrase  or  addition 
of  a  descriptive  detail.  Going  over  the  same  ground  as 
other  writers  with  whom  he  is  in  any  degree  familiar,  a 
poet  can  scarcely  escape  being  influenced  in  some  way, 
even  though  he  is  quite  unaware  of  it. 

(4)  There  remains  the  legend  of  the  river-goddess 

Sabrina,  whose  intervention  frees  the  im- 
ofS^^'l'^^^  prisoned  lady  and  brings  the  Masque  to 
Milton's  in-  a  happy  close.  The  source  of  this  legend, 
Fletche^!  "      which  had  been  handled  by  other  poets,  was 

the  History  of  Geoffrey  of  Monmouth ^  In 
this  important  part  of  Comus  the  influence  of  Fletcher's 
Faithful  Shepherdess  is  unmistakeable.  This  beautiful 
pastoral  was  composed  before  1625.  It  had  been  acted 
as  a  Court-drama,  and  representations  were  given  in  the 

^  See  p.  186. 


COMUS.  xxxill 

London  theatres  in  1633  and  1634.  The  motive  of  the 
play  is  identical  with  that  of  Conms,  viz.  the  strength  of 
purity ;  and  in  Fletcher's  heroine  must  be  recognised  an 
elder  sister  of  Milton's  Sabrina.  Speaking  briefly  we 
may  say  that  the  last  two  hundred  lines  of  Conius — the 
disenchantment  scene — betray  in  the  conception  of  the 
nymph  Sabrina,  in  the  incidents,  and  the  lyric  movement, 
the  spell  which  Fletcher's  genius  exercised  on  Milton. 
Milton  chose  the  story  of  the  goddess  who  swayed  the 
Severn  stream  in  compliment  to  his  audience.  It  suited 
the  scene  and  the  setting  of  his  Masque ;  and  his  treat- 
ment of  the  theme  reflects,  in  no  servile  spirit  of  imitation, 
the  graceful  example  of  the  poet  with  whom  the  name  of 
Shakespeare  himself  is  linked  in  more  than  one  work. 

It  is  not  doing  Milton  any  real  service  to  ignore  or 
deny  his  indebtedness  to  these  various  sources.  Absolute, 
unqualified  originality  is  practically  impossible.  Litera- 
ture is  a  series  of  echoes,  and  one  of  the  tests  of  genius  is 
to  take  inferior  work  and  tune  it  to  finer  issues.  Has 
the*artist  breathed  fresh  suggestion  into  things  old  .''  has 
he  added  things  new  ?  If  we  can  answer  'yes '  to  each  of 
these  questions,  his  record  is  clear.  We  must  indeed 
always  try  to  get  a  clear  idea  wherein  lies  the  greatness 
of  a  work,  what  are  the  qualities  that  make  it  immortal. 
In  Comiis  those  qualities,  surely,  are  the  exquisite  music, 
especially  of  the  lyric  portions,  the  rapt  elevation  of 
thought  and  tone,  the  distinction  of  style.  These  gifts  are 
a  poet's  own.  He  does  not  obtain  them  from  *  sources,' 
search  he  never  so  carefully.  And  they  constitute  the 
'originality'  that  is  essential. 

It  is  manifestly  unfair  to  judge  any  work  by  tests 
which  do  not  properly  apply  to  it:  we  must  ..^ 
not  condemn  a  thing  for  not  being  what  it  he  judged  as 
does  not  profess  to  be — a  truism  which  '^  ^^^^e- 
criticism  often  ignores.  So  it  is  beside  the  mark  to  say 
that  Co7mis  is  "deficient  as  a  drama."  It  does  not  profess 
to  be  a  "  drama  "  in  the  sense  that  The  Me7-chant  of  Venice 


XXXIV  INTRODUCTION. 

or  Hamlet  is.  It  is  a  "  Masque."  Now  in  a  Masque  we 
are  not  to  look  for  the  qualities  which  are  indispensable 
to  an  ordinary  drama,  such  as  probability  of  story  and 
logical  development  of  dramatic  motive,  propriety  of 
construction,  studied  and  consistent  character-drawing^ 
These  things  lie  outside  the  province  of  the  Masque- 
writer,  whose  fancy  plays  unfettered  in  a  land  where  truth 
and  realism  seldom  set  foot.  Consequently  Cofnus  should 
not  be  contrasted  with  works  that  belong  to  a  different 
sphere  of  art.  To  estimate  its  merits  aright  we  should 
study  what  Ben  Jonson  and  Fletcher,  the  ablest  of  pro- 
fessional Masque-writers,  have  left  us  of  a  like  description. 
We  must  accord  Milton  the  licence  which  the  composers 
of  such  pieces  habitually  claimed,  and  test  Comus  by  the 
elementary  standard  of  dramatic  propriety  recognised  in 
these  entertainments.  Judged  so,  it  has  no  cause  to  fear 
the  objection  that  its  story  lacks  probability  or  its  con- 
struction violates  rule. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  is  one  objection  to  Comus 
Its  moral-     which   we    cannot   gainsay:    as   a    Masque 
ising.  designed     for     representation     it    is    over- 

weighted with  the  moralising  element.  Magnificent  in 
itself  and  intensely  interesting  as  a  revelation  of  Milton's 
character  and  of  his  relation  towards  the  peculiar  re- 
ligious and  social  conditions  of  his  age,  this  lofty  strain 
of  moralising  is  out  of  place  in  a  Masque.  It  fits  neither 
the  occasion  nor  the  speakers 2.  You  cannot  but  feel  that 
Milton  uses  the  long  speeches  of  the  Lady  and  the  Elder 
Brother  to  expound  views  which  he  holds  especially 
sacred.  All  great  art  teaches,  but  the  teaching  is  indirect. 
In  Comus  the  didactic  purpose  is  patent;  nay,  obtrudes. 
It  hampers  the  movement  of  the  piece,  checks  the  natura' 

1  In  Comus  the  absence  of  names  for  all  the  characters  except 
Comus  should  prepare  us  for  the  sHghtness  of  the  characterisation. 

^  Hence  the  significant  omissions,  made  doubtless  by  Lawes, 
at  the  original  performance.  See  notes  on  195—225,  737 — 755. 
One  passage,  779 — 806,  was  an  addition. 


COMUS.  XXXV 

progress  of  the  story ;  and  worse,  it  strikes  a  note  alien  to 
the  genius  of  the  fanciful  Masque  and  all  its  festive 
associations.  But  this  demerit  is  characteristic  of  the 
poet.  Milton's  one  defect,  what  more  than  aught  else 
marks  him  Shakespeare's  inferior,  is  lack  of  humour. 
A  sense  of  humour  means  a  keen  sense  of  the  incon- 
gruous ;  and  a  writer  with  half  Milton's  genius  but  more 
of  that  sense  would  have  shunned  the  incongruous  element 
which  mars  Coiniis  as  a  Masque  while  increasing  its 
power  and  beauty  as  a  poem.  It  is,  therefore,  as  a  poem 
that  the  piece  should  be  regarded,  and  the  long  speeches 
"must  be  read  as  majestic  soliloquies"  (Macaulay). 

This  didactic  element  reveals  Milton,  and  that  at  a 
point  of  special  interest  in  his  career.  It 
teaches  the  doctrine  nearest  to  his  heart,  tonic  idea" 
namely,  sobriety  of  life.  There  was  nothing  f/"'^^'^'^^,.  ^^ 
for  which  Milton  cared  more  than  this.  An 
atmosphere  of  rare  purity  breathes  in  his  works.  He 
shows  an  extraordinarily  nice  sense  of  whatsoever  things 
are  fair  and  of  good  report.  There  is  in  him  a  strong 
vein  of  asceticism,  and  he  praises  more  than  once  the 
"cloistered  virtue"  of  abstinence.  As  a  youth  he  de- 
scribed thus,  in  a  strain  of  classical  allusion,  the  obli- 
gations of  those  who  would  touch  the  highest  reaches 
of  poetic  art : 

"  But  they,  who  demi-gods  and  heroes  praise, 
And  feats  performed  in  Jove's  more  youthful  days, 
Who  now  the  counsels  of  high  heaven  explore, 
Now  shades  that  echo  the  Cerberean  roar, 
Simply  let  these,  like  him  of  Samos,  live, 
Let  herbs  to  them  a  bloodless  banquet  give; 
In  beechen  goblets  let  their  beverage  shine, 
Cool  from  the  crystal  spring  their  sober  wine. 
Their  youth  should  pass  in  innocence  secure 
From  stain  licentious,   and  in  manners  pure, 
.Pure  as  the  priest,  when  robed  in  white  he  stands, 
The  fresh  lustration  ready  in  his  hands. 


XXXVl  INTRODUCTION. 

Thus  Linus  lived,  and  thus,  as  poets  write, 

Tiresias,  wiser  for  his  loss  of  sight. 

Thus  exiled  Chalcas,  thus  the  bard  of  Thrace, 

Melodious  tamer  of  the  savage  race. 

Thus  trained  by  temperance,  Homer  led  of  yore 

His  chief  of  Ithaca  from  shore  to  shore. 

For  these  are  sacred  bards,  and  from  above 

Drink  large  infusions  from  the  mind  of  Jove^" 

That  was  his  youthful  ideal :  his  works  and  all  that 
we  know  of  his  life  show  that  it  was  his  practice.  Pro- 
fessor Masson  well  sums  up  the  matter  in  the  statement 
that  "the  sublime  notion  and  high  mystery"  of  a  dis- 
ciplined life  is  '■''the  Miltonic  idea."  Nowhere  is  it  more 
conspicuous  than  in  this  Masque. 

Under  any  circumstances  the  theme  would  have  kindled 
„,      „     .     his  muse  to  eloquence.     But  now  in  the  year 

The    Pun-  ^  -' 

ta7is  and  the  1634,  when  the  people  were  slowly  separating 
ava  ten,.  j^^^  hostile  camps,  the  truth  was  of  more  than 
personal  import :  it  had  become  vitalised  with  a  tragic 
national  intensity.  Each  day  the  conflict  between  the 
gloom  and  ungraciousness  of  Puritanism  and  the  pleasure- 
seeking  carelessness  of  the  Cavalier  world  grew  keener. 
Extremes  produce  extremes :  for  one  part  of  the  nation 
life  meant  pleasure :  the  other  identified  pleasure  with 
sin.  When  Co?nus  was  written  Milton  stood  between 
the  two  armies.  His  Puritanism  was  tempered  by 
Renaissance  culture.  The  life  of  ideal  happiness  as 
pictured  in  L Allegro  is  one  into  which  enter  all  the 
influences  of  culture  and  nature  that  bring  in  their 
train  "the  joy  in  widest  commonalty  spread  ;"  the  cheer- 
fulness which  should  be  synonymous  with  Life,  and  to 
which  Art  should  minister.  And  when  in  //  Penseroso 
Milton  celebrates  divinest  Melancholy,  she  is  not  the 
bitter  power  whom  Dante  punished  with  the  pains  of 
Purgatory ;  rather,  she  has  something  of  the  kindliness 

^  From  the  sixth  of  the  Latin  Elegies,  Cowper's  translation. 


COMUS.  XXXVll 

that  Shakespeare  attributes  to  his  goddess  Adversity, 
whose  uses  are  sweet,  and  of  whom  it  was  happily  said 
that  she  must  be  a  fourth  Grace,  less  known  than  the 
classic  Three,  but  still  their  sister. 

These  poems,  V Allegro ^  II  Penseroso^  and  Comtis, 
belong  to  the  non-political  period  in  Milton's  life.  The 
bare  fact  that  he  wrote  the  last  showed  that  he  had  not 
yet  gone  over  to  help  the  party  whose  unreasoning  hatred 
of  all  amusement  had  flashed  out  in  Prynne's  Histrio- 
mastix'^  (1633).  As  Green  says,  "the  historic  interest  of 
Conius  lies  in  its  forming  part  of  a  protest  made  by  the 
more  cultured  Puritans  against  the  gloomier  bigotry 
which  persecution  was  fostering  in  the  party  at  large." 
On  the  other  hand,  the  whole  tone  of  Co?nus  was  op- 
posed to  the  spirit  of  the  Cavaliers.  It  sternly  rebuked 
intemperance.  The  revel-god  personified  the  worst  ele- 
ments of  Court-life.  In  his  overthrow  Milton  alle- 
gorically  foreshadowed  the  downfall  of  those  who  led 
that  life;  just  as  in  Lycidas,  under  the  guise  of  pastoral 
symbolism,  he  predicted  the  ruin  of  the  "corrupted 
Clergie,"  and  at  the  end  of  his  life  lamented  the  crash  of 
Puritanism  through  the  mouth  of  Samson  Agonistes. 
Two  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago  therefore  Comus  was 
terribly  real  as  a  warning  against  the  danger  upon  which 
the  ship  of  national  life  was  drifting.  But  the  theme  is 
true  yesterday,  to-day,  and  for  ever;  and  the  art  with 
which  it  is  enforced  remains  undimmed,  the  wisdom 
unfading. 

Johnson  had  fault  to  find  with  the  songs       tj     l    '   i 
in   Comus.     He   considered   them    "harsh"    parts  of  ^^ 
and    "not    very   musical."      This    was    the     "<^^''"'^-" 
most  curious  feature  of  his  strange,  grudging  criticism  of 

^  Prynne  often  refers  to  Masques,  and  always  in  terms  of 
scorn;  e.g.  on  page  783  of  the  Histi'io?nastix,  "Stage-players, 
Mumeries,  Masques,  and  such  like  heathenish  practises," 
1633  ed. 


xxxviii  INTRODUCTION. 

the  Masque,  since  the  superlative  excellence  of  Milton's 
lyrics  has  never  been  a  matter  of  dispute.  In  them 
Milton  achieves  a  style  of  quintessential  beauty,  re- 
minding us  with  Wordsworth  that  poetry  is  primarily  a 
matter  of  inspiration,  and  proving,  like  Gray,  that  it 
must  also  be  a  matter  of  art.  Richness  of  imagery, 
epithets  that  (in  Macaulay's  words)  supply  "  a  text  for  a 
canto,"  single  phrases  that  for  their  curious  felicity  are, 
as  Archbishop  Trench  said,  "poems  in  miniature," 
evanescent  touches  that  recall  to  the  classical  reader  the 
old  and  happy,  far-off  things  of  Athens  and  Rome — these 
qualities,  that  belong  mainly  to  art,  are  held  together  and 
heightened  by  a  perfect  genuineness  of  emotion  which  is 
the  outcome  of  sheer  inspiration.  Above  all,  Milton 
gives  us  what  we  require  most  in  lyric  verse — true  melody, 
and  those  who  are  deaf  to  these  sphere-born  notes,  who 
find  the  "  numbers  "  of  Comus  unpleasing,  must  be  left  to 
their  displeasure. 

Most  of  us  will  prefer  Mr  Saintsbury's  verdict:  "It 
is  impossible  to  single  out  passages,  for  the  whole  is 
golden.  The  entering  address  of  Comus,  the  song  'Sweet 
Echo,'  the  descriptive  speech  of  the  Spirit,  and  the 
magnificent  eulogy  of  the  'sun-clad  power  of  chastity,' 
would  be  the  most  beautiful  things  where  all  is  beautiful, 
if  the  unapproachable  '  Sabrina  fair '  did  not  come  later, 
and  were  not  sustained  before  and  after,  for  nearly  two 
hundred  lines  of  pure  nectar." 

It  was  a  happy  inspiration  which  reserved  the  rhymed 
parts  mainly  for  the  close,  where  they  form  a  kind  of 
lyric  cadenza  on  which  the  Masque  closes.  After  bearing 
the  heat  and  burden  of  the  piece,  after  enforcing  with  all 
the  power  of  his  eloquence  and  righteous  enthusiasm  the 
moral  which  Comus  illustrates,  Milton  turned  to  his 
muse  and  bade  her  touch  a  lighter,  festive  note.  The 
philosophic  strain  was  dropped :  the  poet  of  VAllegio 
reasserted  himself;  and  Comus  came  to  an  end  with 
Lawes's  music  ringing  through  the  Hall. 


COMUS.  xxxix 

The  stage-history  of  Comus  is  very  slight.  The 
representation  at  Ludlow  appears  to  be  the 
only  one  that  took  place  in  the  seventeenth  stage-his- 
century.  It  is  interesting  to  note  that  part 
at  least  of  the  music  written  by  Lawes  for  the  original 
performance  survives,  viz.  the  five  numbers,  "  From  the 
heavens,"  "  Sweet  Echo,"  "  Sabrina  fair,"  "  Back  Shep- 
herds" and  "Now  my  task."  In  the  last  century  most  of 
Milton's  minor  poems  were  made  to  supply  libretti  for 
contemporary  musicians.  Handel  set  L^ Allegro  and  // 
Penseroso  (1740)  to  music,  and  afterwards  (1742)  made 
Samson  Agonistes  the  basis  of  his  Oratorio.  Cojmis^  or 
rather  an  adaptation  of  it,  fell  to  the  skilful  hands  of 
Dr  Arne,  the  composer  to  whom  we  owe  some  of  the  best 
known  settings  of  Shakespeare's  songs.  The  adaptation 
of  the  Masque  was  made  by  the  Rev.  John  Dalton, 
afterwards  Canon  of  Worcester.  He  altered  it  beyond 
recognition,  dividing  it  into  three  acts,  redistributing  the 
speeches,  introducing  fresh  characters  (among  them 
Lycidas)  and  scenes,  and  interpolating  songs  of  his  own 
composition.  The  most  curious  change  occurs  in  Act  ill., 
which  commences  with  twenty-six  lines  ("But  come,  thou 
goddess,"  line  11)  taken  from  L! Allegro,  the  invocation 
to  Mirth  being  followed  by  the  appearance  on  the  scene 
of  Euphrosyne. 

This  stage-version  was  produced  at  Drury  Lane 
theatre  in  1738,  and  was  frequently  acted  and  several 
times  printed.  On  the  title-page  of  the  first  imprint  (1738) 
are  the  words  "never  presented  but  on  Michaelmas  Day, 
1634." 

Geneste  in  his  Annals  of  the  Stage  mentions  later 
stage-versions  with  Arne's  music,  notably  one  for  which 
Sir  Henry  Bishop  wrote  additional  airs.  Altogether 
Comus  seems  to  have  had  some  vogue  on  the  stage  in  a 
quasi-operatic  form.  The  last  notable  rendering  of  the 
Masque  was  that  produced  by  Macready,  who  himself 
played  the  part  of  the  magician. 


xl  INTRODUCTION. 


LYCIDAS. 

Lycidas  was  composed  in  November  1637,  and  pub- 
lished  some   time    in    1638.       It    is    an   In 
^^^^'  mejnoriam    poem,    and    the    circumstances 

which  evoked  it  were  as  follows. 

On  August  the  loth,  1637,  a  Fellow  of  Christ's  College, 
Cambridge,  Edward  King,  was  lost  at  sea. 
Circum-         He  had  been  slightly  junior  to  Milton  at  the 
IZpositit     University,  but  there  had,  no  doubt,  been 
some  intimacy,  possibly  some  friendship,  be- 
tween them.     He  seems  to  have  been  a  scholar  of  great 
promise  and  much  beloved;   and  when  the  news  of  his 
death  was  known  at  Cambridge  in  the  ensuing  Michaelmas 
term,  his  friends  decided  to  publish  a  collection  of  elegiac 
verses  as  an  expression  of  the  University's  regret  at  his 
early  death. 

Such  collections  were  customary  in  the  17th  century. 
When  any  event  of  significance  occurred — 
Similar         especially  a  royal  birth,  or  wedding,  or  death 
'^verse.  ^^"^  — the  scholars  and  wits  of  Oxford  and  Cam- 

bridge invoked  the  Muses  in  strains  of 
congratulation  or  lament.  Thus  the  death  of  Ben  Jonson 
(in  1637)  was  marked  by  the  issue  in  this  very  year,  1638, 
of  a  volume  of  elegies;  and  there  was  a  tradition  in  the 
last  century  that  Milton's  own  Epitaph  on  the  Marchioness 
of  Winchester  was  first  printed  in  a  Cambridge  collection 
of  elegiac  poems  on  her  death. 

That  Edward  King  should  have  been  honoured  by 
the  issue  of  one  of  these  tributes,  usually  reserved  for 
greater  names,  is  a  proof  of  the  esteem  in  which  he  was 
held  at  Cambridge. 


LYCIDAS.  xli 

The  memorial  poems  were  published  in   1638,  in  a 
volume  divided  into  two  sections.     The  first 
contains  twenty-three  pieces  of  Greek  and     ,  V\^   Cam- 

.  4,,        „       , .    ,  .  .  bridge 

Latm  verse.     The  English  portion  is  com-     volume. 
posed  of  thirteen  poems,  Milton's  being  the 
last.     It  is  introduced  with  the  simple  title  Lycidas^  and 
signed  with  the  initials  "J.  M."     This  therefore  is  the 
first  edition  of  the  elegy. 

Besides  the  poems  the  volume  includes  a  brief  preface 
in  Latin,  setting  forth  the  manner  of  King's 
death.  He  had  sailed  from  Chester  for  J^lf'^pZm. 
Ireland,  where  most  of  his  relations  were 
settled;  he  himself  had  been  born  at  Boyle,  county 
Roscommon,  and  his  father  had  held  office  as  Secretary 
for  Ireland  under  Elizabeth  and  the  two  succeeding 
monarchs.  Not  far  from  the  British  coast  the  vessel 
struck  on  a  rock,  sprang  a  leak,  and  sank.  The  narrative 
says  that  while  other  passengers  were  trying  to  save  their 
lives  Edward  King  knelt  on  the  deck,  and  was  praying  as 
the  ship  went  down.  Some  of  those  on  board  must  have 
escaped,  else  this  fact  would  not  have  been  known.  It  is 
curious,  I  think,  that  Milton  should  have  made  no  allusion 
to  an  episode  so  affecting,  and  for  the  purposes  of  the 
poet  so  effective.  Other  contributors  to  the  volume 
mention  it.  Probably,  however,  Milton  had  not  heard 
full  details  of  the  accident.  He  was  living  away  from 
Cambridge — at  Horton — and  may  have  received  no  more 
than  a  notice  in  general  terms  of  King's  death,  and  an 
invitation  to  join  his  friends  in  lamenting  the  loss  to  the 
College  and  University. 

For  students  of  Milton  the  text  of  Lycidas  possesses 
unusual  interest.  We  have  the  original  MS. 
preserved  at  Trinity;  the  Cambridge  edition 
of  1638;  a  copy  of  this  edition  in  the  University  Library, 
with  corrections  in  Milton's  handwriting;  and  the  1645 
edition  of  Milton's  early  poems.  This  last  version,  almost 
identical   with   the   issue   of   1673,   represents   the   final 

V.  C.  d 


xlii  INTRODUCTION. 

revision  of  Lycidas.  It  offers  a  good  many  differences  of 
reading  from  the  MS.  and  the  tirst  (1638)  edition.  The 
changes  illustrate  what  we  have  already  noted  in  the 
case  of  CotJius^  viz.  Milton's  true  instinct  for  improving 
his  work.  The  same  quality  is  very  marked  in  Tennyson, 
the  successive  editions  of  whose  works  show  numerous 
corrections  for  the  better. 

Lycidas^  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say,  represents  the 
pastoral  styled  No  type  of  poetry  is  more  artificial. 
With  some  readers  the  inherent  artificiality  of  the  type  is 
a  ground  of  depreciation  of  this  elegy.  They  find  in  it  a 
note  of  unreality,  a  falseness  of  tone. 

^^ Lycidas"  writes  Johnson,  "  is  not  to  be  considered  as 

the   effusion    of    real   passion ;    for   passion 

Is    "  Ly       Yxxns  not  after  remote  allusions  and  obscure 

Ctdas         an 

expression  of  Opinions.  Passion  plucks  no  berries  from 
^griefT  the  myrtle  and  ivy,  nor  calls  upon  Arcthuse 

and  Mincius,  nor  tells  of  rough  '  Satyrs '  and 
*  Fauns  with  cloven  heel.'  Where  there  is  leisure  for 
fiction,  there  is  httle  grief." 

But  pastoralism  is  only  an  imaginative  medium  of 
expression,  and  it  is  surely  a  hard  saying  that  true  feeling 
will  not  find  imaginative  vent.  We  must  not  apply 
rigidly  the  prosaic  test  of  fact  to  works  of  fancy,  and  seek 
to  bind  down  art  to  the  literal  presentment  of  life.  All 
feeling,  when  it  exceeds  the  bounds  of  the  barest,  briefest 
self-expression,  tends  to  metaphor  and  symbol.  Grief 
finds  relief  in  so  doing.  "  She  clothes  herself  in  meta- 
phors, and,  abstaining  from  the  direct  expression  of 
poignant  emotion,  dwells  on  thoughts  and  images  that 
have  a  beauty  of  their  own  for  solace."  It  seems  to  me 
therefore  a  fallacy  that  the  feeling  of  Lycidas  must 
necessarily  be  unreal  because  the  allegory  in  which  it  is 
prefigured  had  no  actual  basis  in  experience.     Pastoral 

^  It  will  be  more  convenient  to  give  a  brief  sketch  of  the 
history  of  pastoral  poetry  independently;    see  p.    181. 


LYCIDAS.  xliii 

elegy  is  one  of  the  recognised  vehicles  of  lament,  and  the 
poet  who  adopts  it  is  bound  by  literary  traditions  to  do 
those  things  which  Johnson  says  that  no  mourner  does  in 
real  life.     Truth  of  art  is  not  identical  with  truth  of  fact. 

Nevertheless,  Johnson's  remark  that  Lycidas  is  not  to 
be  regarded  as  "the  effusion  of  real  passion"  does  serve 
to  warn  us  from  a  wrong  way  of  looking  at  the  poem. 
The  primary  interest  of  the  elegy  is  artistic,  not  emotional. 
It  is  a  study  in  the  pastoral  manner;  "a  highly-wrought 
piece  of  art,"  as  Shelley  said  of  his  own  elegiac  poem 
Adonais. 

Milton  knew  the  Greek  pastoral  writers  and  their 
Latin  imitator,  Vergil,  by  heart.  He  knew, 
in  particular,  those  poems — the  first  Idyl  of  a'^tud^''^  ' 
Theocritus  and  the  Lament  for  Bion  by 
Moschus — which  are  models  for  all  time  of  pastoralism 
dedicated  to  the  purposes  of  elegy.  And  he  had  doubt- 
less studied  modern  works,  especially  Italian,  cast  in 
the  same  vein.  Here  was  an  opportunity  of  weaving 
this  knowledge  into  an  exquisite  fabric  of  learning  and 
literary  suggestion  and  artistic  pathos.  The  outcome 
was  a  poem  singularly  appropriate  to  the  circumstances 
which  evoked  it.  For  what  more  fitting  than  that  the 
lament  of  a  University  over  a  gifted  student  should  take 
the  form  of  a  work  in  which  preeminently  art  and  scholar- 
ship join  hands  ?  As  to  the  kind  or  degree  of  personal 
feeling  towards  Edward  King  which  Lycidas  expresses, 
that  will  ever  remain  an  open  question.  To  me  it  seems 
that  the  feeling  is  no  more  than  the  sentiment  of  regret 
and  pity  which  the  premature  death  of  a  fellow-student 
and  associate  would  naturally  excite. 

There  is,  however,  in  Lycidas  one  subject  on  which 
Milton  lets  the  reader  know  what  he  thought 
in  entirely  unambiguous  language:  namely,    th/church^'''^ 
the  corruption,  from  his  point  of  view,  of  the 
Anglican  Church.     No  one  can  mistake  the  drift  of  lines 
1 18 — 131,  or  the  spirit  that  animates  them.     The  passage 

d  2 


xliv  INTRODUCTION. 

has  been  much  censured,  and  from  the  standpoint  of  art 
seems  indefensible.  First,  it  is  a  digression,  distracting 
attention  from  the  main  theme  of  the  poem  into  a  wholly 
different  channel :  the  fact  that  Edward  King  had  intended 
to  take  orders  in  the  Church  scarcely  justifies  the  insertion 
of  a  long  invective  against  it.  Under  any  circumstances, 
whatever  the  style  of  the  poem,  an  episode  of  this  kind 
would  be  objectionable.  But  here  amid  bucolic  imagery 
and  pagan  dramatis  personce  Christianity  can  have  no 
place.  It  would  be  hard  to  conceive  greater  incongruity 
of  effect,  and  the  only  defence  that  can  be  offered  is, 
that  this  blending  of  Christian  sentiment  and  associations 
with  paganism  had  long  been  a  tradition  with  pastoral 
writers. 

It  is  found  in  the  Eclogues  of  the  Carmelite  Baptista 

Spagnola  (commonly  called  Mantuan  from  the  fact  that 

he  lived  at  Mantua),  a  now  forgotten  writer 

Christianity        ,  •     n  ^         i 

introduced  whosc  mfluence  on  pastoral  verse  was  con- 
i7ito  pastoral    giderable,  as  the  Glosse  to   The  Shepheards 

verse.  '  •        r  i        i  •         i_ 

Calender  shows.  It  is  found  also  m  the 
Latin  elegiac  poetry  of  Italian  scholars  of  the  i6th  century 
with  whom  references  to  the  contemporary  Church  and 
State  are  freely  interspersed  among  pictures  of  pastoral 
life  painted  in  the  manner  of  Theocritus  and  Vergil. 

Spenser,  again,  in  the  fifth  Eclogue  of  The  Shepheards 
Calender^  twenty-nine  lines  of  which  are  quoted  by  Milton 
in  his  prose-work  the  Animadversions^  shadows  forth 
under  the  slightest  of  disguises  the  ordinary  contrast 
between  Roman  Catholicism  and  Protestantism.  And 
Phineas  Fletcher  in  his  Piscatorie  Eclogues^  which  are 
cast  in  an  essentially  classical,  pastoral  style,  attacks  the 
"corrupted  clergy"  in  the  character  of  fishermen  neglectful 
of  their  duty.  Milton  therefore  could  at  least  plead  the 
privilege  of  custom  i,  and  he  took  full  advantage  of  it. 

1  See  the  Globe  Spenser,  pp.  451,  476,  478,  for  references  to 
Mantuan ;  Symonds's  Renaissance  in  Italy  ('  Revival  of  Learn- 
ing'), II.  486 — 498,  for  the  Italian  writers  of  pastoral;  and 
Grosart's  edition  of  Fletcher,  ii.  274,  276. 


LYCIDAS.  xlv 

Personally  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  our  dislike  of 
what  we  call  incongruity  in  literature,  i.e.  the  mixture  of 
inharmonious  associations,  is  a  comparatively  late  de- 
velopment of  taste.  Consider  for  example  the  combination 
of  Elizabethanism  and  classical  mythology  or  history  in  a 
play  like  A  MidsuTumer-Nighf  s  Dream  ox  Juluts  CcBsar. 

We  cannot  assume  that  what  Milton  writes  is  meant 
to  apply  to  the  whole  Church.  He  limits  it 
to  the  corrupt  elements,  though  a  few  years  "  ^^-^^  P'iot 
later  he  seems  to  have  regarded  the  corruption  icean  lake'.' 
as  universal.  Nor  is  it  a  reasonable  inference 
from  his  description  of  St  Peter  that  he  then  felt  any 
sympathy  with  episcopacy,  which  he  afterwards  assailed 
so  vehemently.  Dramatic  propriety  required  that  the 
Apostle  should  be  invested  with  all  the  circumstance  and 
pomp  of  his  office — the  mitre  and  the  fateful  keys — since 
by  heightening  the  dignity  of  those  who  mourned  for 
Lycidas  the  poet  paid  honour  to  him.  Religion  and 
learning  alike  bent  over  his  tomb,  the  one  symbolised  by 
the  head  of  the  Catholic  Church,  the  other  by  the  spokes- 
man of  Edward  King's  University.  Truly,  he  was 
fortunate  in  his  elegist. 

Once  elsewhere  in  Lycidas  the  personal  note  inter- 
rupts the   even   monotone   of  elegy.     It   is 

1  c         T  1  1  T  X  ^  The  supposed 

surely  not  fanciful  to  detect  m  Imes  64 — 69  allusion  to 
a  complaint  that  poetry  had  fallen  on  trifling  contemporary 
times  when  all  the  qualities  which  in  Milton's 
view  were  essential  to  the  poet — sobriety  of  life,  learning, 
earnestness  of  thought — counted  for  nothing  in  popular 
esteem.  As  we  read  this  passage  we  remember  the 
introduction  to  the  second  book  of  The  Reason  of  Church 
Governme?tt  (than  which  Milton's  prose  works  contain 
nothing  more  valuable),  where  he  contrasts  two  types  of 
poets.  He  shows  us  there  on  the  one  hand  "the  vulgar 
amourist"  whose  inspiration  is  "the  heat  of  youth,  or  the 
vapours  of  wine."  On  the  other  hand,  he  describes  the 
scholar  and  seer  who  gives  himself  over  to  study  and  the 


xlvi  INTRODUCTION. 

mastery  of  all  arts  and  sciences  that  illuminate  the  mind, 
and  "devout  prayer  to  that  eternal  Spirit,  who  can  enrich 
with  all  utterance  and  knowledge,  and  sends  out  his 
seraphim,  with  the  hallowed  fire  of  his  altar,  to  touch 
and  purify  the  lips  of  whom  he  pleases."  It  is  under  this 
type  that  he  directly  classes  himself ;  and  to  the  former 
that  he  indirectly  assigns  in  Lycidas,  64 — 69,  the  Sucklings 
and  Herricks  and  Cavalier  song-writers. 

An  Introduction  to  Lycidas  cannot  well  omit  mention, 

however  brief,  of  those  modern  works  which 
eieeifs^^^'^  owe  Something  to  Milton's  elegy,  viz.  Shelley's 

Adonais,  written  on  the  death  of  Keats,  and 
Matthew  Arnold's  ThyrsiSy  a  lament  for  his  poet-friend 
and  Oxford  contemporary,  Arthur  Hugh  Clough.  These 
later  elegists  drew  inspiration  from  the  same  classical 
sources  as  the  author  of  Lycidas.  They  too  revive  echoes 
of  the  Greek  shepherd-music;  and  apart  from  such 
general  similarities  as  we  should  expect  where  writers 
have  chosen  the  same  vehicle  of  expression  (in  this  case 
the  most  stereotyped  and  conventional  of  methods),  each 
has  at  least  one  point  of  contact  with  Milton.  Thyrsis^ 
like  Lycidas.,  presents  an  idealised  picture  of  University- 
life,  and  perhaps  for  sincerity  and  true  feeling  begotten 
of  love  for  the  scenes  described  the  advantage  rests  with 
the  modern  poet.  In  the  Adonais  Shelley's  invective 
against  the  enemies  of  Keats  (the  poet  regarded  them  as 
his  own  enemies  too)  recalls  Milton's  onslaught  on  the 
Church  :  a  subsidiary  theme  kindled  the  fire  of  personal 
feeling  in  both  poems,  and  neither  can  be  regarded 
merely  as  the  consecration  of  friendship.  Of  the  three 
elegies,  Lycidas  and  Thyrsis  have  most  nfiinity.  Thyrsis 
follows  the  pastoral  type  much  more  closely  than  Adonais^ 
and  has  more  of  that  intensely  classical  spirit  which 
breathes  throughout  Milton's  poem.  Moreover,  there  is  a 
closer  parallel  between  the  circumstances  which  severally 
produced  Lycidas  and  Thyrsis.  In  each  a  scholar-poet 
was  moved  to  lament  a  fellow-student  with  whom  he  had 


LYCIDAS.  xlvii 

had  ties  of  kindred  pursuits ;  whereas  the  intimacy 
between  Keats  and  Shelley  had  been  slight,  and  what 
animated  Shelley  in  writing  the  Adonais  was  primarily 
the  feeling  that  he  was  fighting  in  this,  as  in  his  other 
works,  the  battle  of  fairness  and  freedom,  and  in  another's 
wrongs  avenging  his  own.  Of  Tennyson's  In  Meinoriaiu^ 
which  is  sometimes  compared  with  these  elegies,  we  need 
not  speak.  It  really  stands  apart.  It  is  not  a  pastoral; 
and  it  has  a  philosophic  scope  far  beyond  that  of  any 
poem  of  lament.  It  is  Tennyson's  verdict  on  the  ten- 
dencies and  peculiar  difficulties  of  his  age,  and  his  chief 
contribution  to  our  "criticism  of  life." 


xlviii  INTRODUCTION. 


METRICAL   FEATURES    OF   THESE    POEMS. 

To  those  who  desire  more  insight  into  the  poetic  Art 
of  Milton  it  may  be  helpful  to  note  a  few  important  points 
of  metre^.  First  as  to  the  blank  verse  of 
blank  verlT^  Co7?ius.  The  typical  blank  verse  is  a  line 
of  ten  syllables  forming  five  feet  in  which 
the  stresses  or  accents  fall  on  the  even  syllables.  These 
feet  are  commonly  termed  "iambic^,"  and  the  rhythm  of  a 
line  composed  of  iambic  feet  is  a  "  rising  "  rhythm.  Here 
is  a  typical  blank  verse  from  Coinus  (line  30) : 

"And  all  this  tract  that  fronts  the  falling  siin." 

Blank  verse  prior  to  Marlowe,  the  great  Elizabethan 
dramatist  whose  work  influenced  Shakespeare,  was 
modelled  strictly  on  this  type.  Further,  this  early  blank 
verse  was  what  is  termed  "  end-stopt " :  that  is  to  say, 
there  was  almost  always  so7ne  pause,  however  slight,  in 
the  sense,  and  consequently  in  the  rhythm,  at  the  close 
of  each  line  ;  while  the  couplet  was  normally  the  limit  of 
the  sense.  As  an  example  of  "  end-stopt "  verse  look  at 
Comusj  ']2i — T]  : 

"  And  they,  so  perfect  is  their  misery, 
Not  once  perceive  their  foul  disfigurement, 
But  boast  themselves  more  comely  than  before, 
And  all  their  friends  and  native  home  forget, 
To  roll  with  pleasure  in  a  sensual  sty." 

^  The  authoritative  work  is  Mr  Bridges's  book  Milton^s 
Prosody^  on  which  I  have  drawn. 

^  An  iambus  in  Greek  prosody  is  a  foot  of  two  syllables, 
short -f- long,  thus  -^  -.  Roughly  speaking,  stress  or  accent  is  the 
equivalent  in  English  prosody  for  the  "quantity"  of  classical 
prosody ;  i.e.  a  stressed  syllable  (')  corresponds  with  the  long 
syllable  (-)  of  classical  verse,  and  an  unstressed  syllable  with  the 
short  (~').  In  "scanning"  a  passage  it  is  better  always  to  use  the 
term  "stress"  or  "accent"  than  "long  syllable,"  and  the  symbol 
'.  not  -, 


METRICAL   FEATURES   OF   THESE   POEMS,    xlix 

If  the  whole  poem  were  written  in  verse  of  this  kind 
the  effect,  obviously,  would  be  intolerably  monotonous. 
Blank  verse  before  Marlowe  was  intolerably  monotonous, 
and  his  great  service  to  metre,  carried  further  by  Shake- 
speare, was  to  introduce  variations  into  the  existing  type 
of  the  blank  decasyllabic  measure.  In  fact,  analysis  of 
the  blank  verse  of  any  writer  really  resolves  itself  into  a 
study  of  his  modifications  of  the  purely  "  iambic,"  "  end- 
stopt"  type. 

The  four  chief  variations  employed  by   MUton's  chief 
Milton  1  in  Comus  are  these:  variations. 

(i)     His  use  of  the  "overflow"  of  the    _,   „       ^     „ 

^  The  ^^ overflow. 

sense  from  one  Ime  to  another ;  what  the 
French  call  ''''  enjambeinentP 

Put  simply,  this  only  means  that  he  makes  the  sense 
and  rhythm  run  on  from  one  line  to  another.  A  large 
proportion  of  his  blank  verse  is  "unstopt,"  not  "end-stopt." 
Take  Cojnus^  i — 4  : 

"  Before  the  starry  threshold  of  Jove's  court 
My  mansion  is,  where  those  immortal  shapes 
Of  bright  aerial  spirits  live  insphered 
In  regions  mild  of  calm  and  serene  air." 

In  those  lines  there  is  no  pause  of  sense  and  consequently 
none  of  rhythm  at  the  end  of  either  of  lines  i — 3  :  sense 
and  rhythm  run  on. 

Now  "unstopt"  verse  escapes  one  of  the  dangers  of 
blank  verse  :  the  danger  of  being  stiff  and  formal,  and 
hampering  the  sense,  as  in  the  early  days  of  the  metre, 
through  arrangement  in  single  lines  or  couplets.  But  it 
incurs  another  danger  :  it  may  be  loose  and  formless 
through  want  of  clearly  marked  pauses,  balance  of  the 
parts,  and  rhythmic  cadences — the  qualities  which  should 
compensate  for  the  absence  of  rhyme.  Blank  verse  there- 
fore of  the  -'unstopt"  type  in  which  the  paragraph  is  the 
unit,  not  the  single  hne  or  couplet,  needs  an  exquisite 

*  Not  necessarily  peculiar  to  him. 


1  INTRODUCTION. 

sense  of  sound,  and  of  sound  harmonised  in  a  complex, 
elaborate  scheme.  And  this  sense  was  Milton's  great  gift. 
Hence  his  blank  verse  unites  the  two  qualities  so  difficult 
to  reconcile,  yet  essential,  namely  freedom  and  form  :  the 
freedom  which  allows  an  easy,  natural  expression  of  the 
sense  and  a  variety  of  rhythm  that  echoes  ail  its  shifting 
inflections;  and  the  form  which  comes  from  consummate 
mastery  of  pause,  balance  and  cadence.  Thus  much  as 
to  the  arrangement  of  his  lines:  now  as  to  their  internal 
formation. 

(2)     The  second  great  feature  of  his  blank  verse  is 
,,  ^  ,  the  use  of  "extrametrical"  syllables.    Briefly, 

Extra-  ■'  ^ 

metrical"  he  sometimes  has  eleven  or  even  twelve 
syllables.  syllables  instead  of  ten  in  a  line.    The  extra 

syllable  may  come  {a)  at  the  end  of  the  line,  {b)  about  the 
middle  after  some  pause,  or  {c)  in  both  places.  Here  are 
examples  (211,  67,  617): 

{a)     "The  virtuous  mind,  that  ever  walks  attend(ed)." 

[I))      "  To  quench  the  drouth  of  Phce(bus);  which  as  they  taste." 

{c)      "As  to  make  this  rela(tion)?     Care  and  utmost  (shifts)." 

Far  the  commonest  of  these  variations  from  the 
typical  decasyllabic  line  is  {a).  It  is  a  great  feature  of 
the  verse  of  Cotniis  and  Samson  Agotiistes.  The  pro- 
portion of  such  lines  as  {a)  is  said  to  be  i  in  9  in  Cotiius^ 
I  in  6  in  Samson  Agonistes.  In  Paradise  Lost,  on  the 
other  hand,  this  kind  of  verse  is  rare.  This  is  the  one 
great  difference  between  Milton's  early  and  late  blank 
verse,  and  the  reason  for  it  is  clear.  The  extra  syllable 
at  the  end  of  the  line  tends  to  make  the  rhythm  run  on 
into  the  next  line,  and  therefore  gives  a  rapid  movement 
suitable  to  the  spoken  verse  of  the  stage.  It  characterises 
thus  the  dramatic  and  lyrical  pieces,  whilst  epic  narrative 
like  Paradise  Lost  demands  a  statelier,  slower  movement. 

This  extrametrical  syllable  at  the  end  of  a  line  is 
commonly  called  the   "double"  or  "feminine"  ending. 


METRICAL   FEATURES   OF   THESE   POEMS.      U 

Note  that  it  is  of  two  kinds — where  the  last  syllable  would 
naturally  bear  a  stress  or  accent,  and  where  it  would  not. 
Thus  contrast  265 

"And  she  shall  be  my  queen.     Hail,  foreign  w6n(der)" 
with  633 

**Bore  a  bright  golden  flower,  but  not  in  this  (soil)." 

Illustrations  of  (^)  are  lines  302,  415,  599,  662,  842. 
The  other  variation   (c)   is  also-  illustrated,    1    think, 
by  line  407. 

(3)  Another  feature  is  "inversion  of  rhythm,"  i.e.  the 
substitution  of  "falling"  rhythm  for  "rising" 

by  use  of  a  trochee  in  place  of  an  iambus,     ofrhythm""'^ 
these  feet  being  exact  opposites.     A  trochee 
is  admitted  into  any  of  the  first  four  feet  of  a  line.     Com- 
pare 

{a)  "Strive  to  |  keep  up  a  frail  and  feverish  being"  (8); 

{b)  "Be  well  |  stock'd  with  [  as  fair  a  herd  as  grazed"  (152); 

{c)  "But  to  my  task.  |  Neptune  |  besides  the  sway"  (18); 

{d)  "  Benighted  in  these  woods.  |  Now  to  |  my  charms  "  {150). 

Observe  that  inversion  generally  gives  some  emphasis 
to  the  word.  Much  the  commonest  inversion  is  that  of 
the  first  foot.  Indeed,  this  use  of  an  initial  trochee  is 
one  of  the  most  characteristic  points  in  Milton's  verse. 
Among  many  examples  take  lines  39  ("threats  the"),  46 
("Bacchus")?  47  ("crush'd  the"),  49  ("coasting"),  with 
60,  79,  80,  90,  147,  162,  163,  190  etc.  In  145  there  are 
two  trochees  ("break  off,  break  off") ;  but  I  have  not 
observed  a  similar  instance.  The  trochee  is  a  swift  foot, 
and  you  will  see  that  in  several  of  the  examples  just  given 
the  sense  refers  to  motion  of  some  sort. 

(4)  The  last  point  is  failure  of  stress  in  one  foot. 
Instead  of  five  stresses  there  are  sometimes 

only  four.     Usually  failure  of  stress  occurs    stress."^^^ 
with  a  preposition,  and  is  commonest  in  the 


Hi  INTRODUCTION. 

first  and  fourth  feet.  It  gives,  by  way  of  compensation, 
a  peculiar  heaviness,  as  of  two^  stressed  syllables,  to  the 
following  foot.     Compare  these  instances  : 

(a)     "With  the  |  rank  va|pours  of  this  sin-worn  mould"  (17); 

(d)     "Ere  morrow  wake,  |  or  the  |  low-roost|ed  lark"  (317); 

{c)     "Stepped,  as  |  they  said,  ]  to  the  |  next  thick|et-side"(i85). 

Observe  that  the  variations  (2),  (3)  and  (4)  may  be  used 
in  combination,  e.g.  we  find  all  three  in  line  49 

•'Coasting  |  the  Tyrjrhene  shore  |  as  the  |  winds  list{ed)," 

and  in  617 

"As  to  I  make  this  |  rela(tion)?  |  Care  and  |  utmost  (shifts)"; 

and  (3)  and  (4)  in  line  185  (quoted  just  above). 

The  lyrics  of  Comus  are  simple  in  structure,  cast  for 
the  most  part  in  the  octosyllabic  measure,  in 
lylicT  "-^^''^     "  ^'sing  "  rhythm,  much  used  by  Ben  Jonson 
and  easily  set  as  musical  recitative.     They 
show  that  Milton  exercised  very  freely  the  right  of  using  im- 
perfect rhymes.     As  proof  of  this  Professor 
rh%7:^^^*    Masson  aptly  refers  to  the  Echo  Song.    It  has 
fourteen  lines,  with  four  consecutive  pairs  of 
irregular  rhyme  ;  and  it  is  none  the  less  wholly  beautiful. 
Milton  varies  the  eight-syllabled  measure  (i)  by  an 
extra  syllable  at  the  end  of  the  line,  (2)  by 
ill    the   octo-     lines   of  only  seven    syllables    in    "falling," 
7urf''^  """'"     i.e.  trochaic  rhythm,  with  an  extra  syllable, 
stressed,  at  the  end,  (3)  by  occasional  deca- 
syllabic rhymed  couplets. 
For  (i)  compare  999 

"  Wiiere  young  Adunis  oft  repo(ses)  "; 

^  i.e.   forming  a  spondaic  foot,  the  classical  spondee  being 
two  long  syllables  ( ). 


METRICAL   FEATURES   OF   THESE   POEMS,      liii 

and  for  (2),  which  is  by  far  the  most  important  modifica- 
tion, cf.  the  following  lines  : 

"The  star  |  that  bids  |  the  shep|herd  fold 
Now  the  I  top  of  I  heav'n  doth  |  hold; 
And  the  j  gilded  |  car  of  |  day 
His  gl6w|ing  ax|le  doth  |  allay." 

For  (3)  see  115,  116,  129-132. 

Then,  it  must  be  remembered  that  in  all  scansion 
of  English  poetry  two  things  play  a  great  part,  viz. 
"contraction"  and  "elision." 

"Contractions"  may  be  divided  into  (i)  the  abbrevia- 
tions   of    everyday    speech,    "such    as    the 

-  ,  ....  7        1  •    1         Contractions. 

perfect  tenses  and  participles  in  <?«,  which 
Milton  often  writes  /"; 

and  (2)  those  of  poetical  usage,  such  as  the  en  =  n  of 
the  perfect  participle,  e.g.  'fall'n,'  'chos'n,'  'giv'n';  and 
esi=^st  in  the  2nd  person  singular  of  verbs,  e.g.  'think'st,' 
'saw'st,'  'gav'st.' 

By  "elision"  one  means  "slurring"  a  letter  or  syllable 
so  that  it  scarcely  sounds  at  all,  and  metrically 

1  rr-ii        /    \  •  .       •    ,         /•        Elision. 

does  not  count.     The  (i)  mam  principle  of 
elision  is  that  an  "open"  vowel,  i.e.  a  vowel  preceding  a 
vowel,  may  be  "  slurred."     The  commonest  instance  is 
with  the  definite  article.     Compare  line  1 1 

"Amongst  th{e)  enthroned  gods  on  sainted  seats." 

So  with  words  like  'mans(i)on,'  'aer(i)al,'  'reg(i)on,' 
'ambros(i)al,'  Mmper(i)aV  *var(i)ous,' — all  in  the  first 
30  lines  of  Conucs.  Also,  (2)  this  principle  of  elision 
applies  to  an  unstressed  vowel  preceding  r  ox  n  ox  I 
in  words  like  'fev'rish,'  'ev'ry,'  'sev'ral,'  'wand'ring,' 
'grov'lling,'  'om'nous,'  '  count'nance,'  'advent'rous';  see 
Comus,  8,  19,  25,  39,  61,  68,  79.  Many  of  the  elisions 
roughly  grouped  under  the  headings  (i)  and  (2)  are  such 
as  we  use  in  common  speech. 

Finally,  some  allowance  must  be  made  for  the  different 


llV  INTRODUCTION. 

accentuation  of  some  words  ^  in  Elizabethan  and  modern 
Entjlish. 


There   are   two   noticeable   features   in   the  metrical 
structure  of  Lycidas.     The  first  is  Milton's 

Italian!  ^^^  ^^  lines  of  irregular  length  grouped  in 
what  Prof.  Masson  happily  terms  "  free 
musical  paragraphs,"  where  the  rhythm  and  cadence  of 
the  verses  wait  upon  and  echo  the  feelings  of  the  speaker. 
The  source  whence  Milton  borrowed  this  device  was 
pointed  out  by  Johnson.  "  Milton's  acquaintance,"  he 
says,  speaking  of  Lycidas,  "with  the  Italian  writers  may 
be  discovered  by  a  mixture  of  longer  and  shorter  verses, 
according  to  the  rules  of  Tuscan  poetry."  Compare  also 
Landor's  words :  "  No  poetry  so  harmonious  (i.e.  as 
Lycidas)  had  ever  been  written  in  our  language,  but  in 
the  same  free  metre  both  Tasso  and  Guarini  had  cap- 
tivated the  ear  of  Italy."  Many  years  later  Milton 
employed  the  same  artifice  ("but  O  !  the  heavy  change!") 
in  the  choruses  of  Samson  Agonistes,  the  preface  to 
which  discusses  this  irregular  type  of  versification,  and 
describes  it  as  'unfettered'  {Apolclymenon).  It  has  one 
great  merit  (at  least  in  the  hands  of  Milton)  that  the 
variations  in  the  length  of  the  metre  may  be  made  to 
reflect  the  changing  passions  which  the  subject  inspires. 
Emotion  seems  to  find  its  exact  equivalent  in  verbal 
expression. 

The  second  feature  is  the  use  of  occasional  unrhymed 
lines.     It  seems  to  me   improbable   that  it 

linef'^""^  was  Milton's  own  device.     I  think  that  this 

also   may   have    been    derived    from    some 

Italian    source,   though  none,    I    believe,   has  ever  been 

pointed  out.     In  answer  to  a  question  on  this  difficult 

^  See  aspect  in  the  Glossary. 


METRICAL   FEATURES   OF   THESE   POEMS.      Iv 

point  a  scholar  writes  to  me:  "It  is  noticeable  that  in 
every  case  Milton  introduces  a  new  rhyme  where  the  ear 
would  expect  the  rhyme,  and  in  two  of  the  cases,  'shroud' 
(22)  and  '  Jove '  (82),  follows  with  a  couplet  which  makes 
the  ear  forget  that  it  is  unsatisfied  in  the  other  respect. 
He  manages  the  first  instance  of  all  ('more'  in  line  i)  in 
the  same  way  by  the  use  of  a  third  rhyme  '  crude.'  And 
certainly  the  effect  is  satisfactory :  one  feels  that  if  he 
had  rhymed  to  '  more '  it  would  have  stopped  the  pro- 
gression of  the  poem."  The  writer  adds  :  "  I  think  some 
of  the  unrhymed  lines  are  assonances,  e.g.  in  the  first 
paragraph,  'wind'  (13)  with  'rhyme'  (11),  and  in  the  2nd 
'well'  (15)  with  'hiir  (23)  and  'rill'  (24),  and  below 
'bring'  (96)  with  'winds'  (91). 

Assonance  partially  supplies  the  effect  of  rhyme. 


COMUS. 

"A   MASQUE   PRESENTED  AT   LUDLOW  CASTLE, 

1634.'' 


V.  C 


DEDICATION!  OF  THE  ANONYMOUS  EDITION  OF 

1637. 

"  To  the  Right  Honourable  John^  Lord  Brackley^  son  and 
heir-apparent  to  the  Earl  of  Bridgewater  etc, " 

*'My  Lord, 

This  Poem,  which  received  its  first  occasion  of 
birth  from  yourself  and  others  of  your  noble  family,  and  much 
honour  from  your  own  person  in  the  performance,  now  returns 
again  to  make  a  final  dedication  of  itself  to  you.  Although 
not  openly  acknowledged  by  the  Author,  yet  it  is  a  legitimate 
offspring,  so  lovely  and  so  much  desired  that  the  often  copying 
of  it  hath  tired  my  pen  to  give  my  several  friends  satisfaction, 
and  brought  me  to  a  necessity  of  producing  it  to  the  public 
view,  and  now  to  offer  it  up,  in  all  rightful  devotion,  to  those 
fair  hopes  and  rare  endowments  of  your  much-promising  youth, 
which  give  a  full  assurance  to  all  that  know  you  of  a  future 
excellence.  Live,  sweet  Lord,  to  be  the  honour  of  your  name ; 
and  receive  this  as  your  own  from  the  hands  of  him  who  hath 
by  many  favours  been  long  obliged  to  your  most  honoured 
Parents,  and,  as  in  this  representation  your  attendant  Thyrsis, 
so  now  in  all  real  expression 

Your  most  faithful  and  most  humble  Servant, 

H.  LAWES." 

!  Reprinted  in  the  edition  of  1645 :  omitted  in  that  of  1673. 


**  The  Copy'^  of  a  Letter  written  by  Sir  Henry   Wotton  to  the 
Author  upon  the  following  Poemy 

"From  the  College,  this  13  of  April,  1638. 
Sir, 

It  was  a  special  favour  when  you  lately  bestowed 
upon  me  here  the  first  taste  of  your  acquaintance,  though  no 
longer  than  to  make  me  know  that  I  wanted  more  time  to  value 
it  and  to  enjoy  it  rightly;  and,  in  truth,  if  I  then  could  have 
imagined  your  farther  stay  in  these  parts,  which  I  understood 
afterwards  by  Mr  H.,  I  would  have  been  bold,  in  our  vulgar 
phrase,  to  mend  my  draught  (for  you  left  me  with  an  extreme 
thirst),  and  to  have  begged  your  conversation  again,  jointly  with 
your  said  learned  friend,  over  a  poor  meal  or  two,  that  we 
might  have  banded  together  some  good  Authors  of  the  ancient 
time  ;  among  which  I  observed  you  to  have  been  familiar. 

Since  your  going,  you  have  charged  me  with  new  obliga- 
tions, both  for  a  very  kind  letter  from  you  dated  the  6th  of  this 
month,  and  for  a  dainty  piece  of  entertainment  which  came 
therewith.  Wherein  I  should  much  commend  the  tragical  part, 
if  the  lyrical  did  not  ravish  me  with  a  certain  Doric  delicacy 
in  your  Songs  and  Odes,  whereunto  I  must  plainly  confess  to 
have  seen  yet  nothing  parallel  in  our  language  :  Ipsa  jfiollities. 
But  I  must  not  omit  to  tell  you  that  I  now  only  owe  you  thanks 
for  intimating  unto  me  {how  modestly  soever)  the  true  artificer. 
For  the  work  itself  I  had  viewed  some  good  while  before  with 
singular  delight ;  having  received  it  from  our  common  friend 
Mr  R.,  in  the  very  close  of  the  late  R.'s  Poems,  printed  at 
Oxford  :  whereunto  it  was  added  (as  I  now  suppose)  that  the 
accessory  might  help  out  the  principal,  according  to  the  art  of 
Stationers,  and  to  leave  the  reader  con  la  bocca  dolce. 

Now,  Sir,  concerning  your  travels ;  wherein  1  may  challenge 
a  little  more  privilege  of  discourse  with  you.  I  suppose  you 
will  not  blanch  Paris  in  your  way  :  therefore  I  have  been  bold 
to  trouble  you  with  a  few  lines  to  Mr  M.  B.,  whom  you  shall 

*  Omitted  in  the  reprint  of  1673,  ^'^'^  letter  was  given  in  the 
edition  of  1645. 


COMUS.  5 

easily  find  attending  the  young  Lord  S.  as  his  governor ;  and 
you  may  surely  receive  from  him  good  directions  for  the  shaping 
of  your  farther  journey  into  Italy  where  he  did  reside,  by  my 
choice,  some  time  for  the  King,  after  mine  own  recess  from 
Venice. 

I  should  think  that  your  best  line  will  be  through  the  whole 
length  of  France  to  Marseilles,  and  thence  by  sea  to  Genoa ; 
whence  the  passage  into  Tuscany  is  as  diurnal  as  a  Gravesend 
barge.  I  hasten,  as  you  do,  to  Florence  or  Siena,  the  rather  to 
tell  you  a  short  story,  from  the  interest  you  have  given  me  in 
your  safety. 

At  Siena  I  was  tabled  in  the.  house  of  one  Alberto  Scipioni, 
an  old  Roman  courtier  in  dangerous  times ;  having  been  steward 
to  the  Duca  di  Pagliano,  who  with  all  his  family  were  strangled, 
save  this  only  man  that  escaped  by  foresight  of  the  tempest. 
With  him  I  had  often  much  chat  of  those  affairs,  into  which  he 
took  pleasure  to  look  back  from  his  native  harbour ;  and,  at  my 
departure  toward  Rome  (which  had  been  the  centre  of  his  ex- 
perience), I  had  won  his  confidence  enough  to  beg  his  advice 
how  I  might  carry  myself  there  without  offence  of  others  or  of 
mine  own  conscience.  ^ Signer  A rrigo  77110^  says  he,  HpotsicTd 
streiti  ed  il  viso  sciolto  will  go  safely  over  the  whole  world.'*  Of 
which  Delphian  oracle  (for  so  I  have  found  it)  your  judgment 
doth  need  no  commentary  ;  and  therefore.  Sir,  I  will  commit 
you,  with  it,  to  the  best  of  all  securities,  God's  dear  love, 
remaining 

Your  friend,  as  much  to  command  as  any  of  longer  date, 

Henry  Wotton." 

Postscript. 

"Sir  :  I  have  expressly  sent  this  my  footboy  to  prevent  your 
departure  without  some  acknowledgement  from  me  of  the  receipt 
of  your  obliging  letter;  having  myself  through  some  business, 
I  know  not  how,  neglected  the  ordinary  conveyance.  In  any 
part  where  I  shall  understand  you  fixed,  I  shall  be  glad  and 
diligent  to  entertain  you  with  home-novelties,  even  for  some 
fomentation  of  our  friendship,  too  soon  interrupted  in  the 
cradle." 


THE    PERSONS. 

The  Attendant  Spirit,  afterwards  in  the 

habit  of  Thyrsis. 
COMUS,  with  his  Crew. 
The  Lady. 
First  Brother. 
Second  Brother. 
Sabrina,  the  Nymph. 

The  Chief  Persons  which  presented  were  : — 

The  Lord  Brackley ; 

Mr  Thomas  Egerton,  his  Brother; 

The  Lady  Ahce  Egerton. 


COMUS. 

The  first  Scene  discovers  a  wild  ivood. 

The  Attendant  Spirit  descends  or  enters. 

Before  the  starry  threshold  of  Jove's  court 
My  mansion  is,  where  those  immortal  shapes 
Of  bright  aerial  spirits  live  insphered 
In  regions  mild  of  calm  and  serene  air, 
Above  the  smoke  and  stir  of  this  dim  spot 
Which  men  call  Earth,  and  with  low-thoughted  care. 
Confined  and  pestered  in  this  pinfold  here, 
Strive  to  keep  up  a  frail  and  feverish  being, 
Unmindful  of  the  crown  that  Virtue  gives, 
After  this  mortal  change,  to  her  true  servants  lo 

Amongst  the  enthroned  gods  on  sainted  seats. 
Yet  some  there  be  that  by  due  steps  aspire 
To  lay  their  just  hands  on  that  golden  key 
That  opes  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  nether  Jove,  20 

Imperial  rule  of  all  the  sea-girt  isles 
That,  like  to  rich  and  various  gems,  inlay 


8  COMUS. 

The  unadorned  bosom  of  the  deep  ; 
Which  he,  to  grace  his  tributary  gods, 
By  course  commits  to  several  government, 
And  gives  them  leave  to  wear  their  sapphire  crowns 
And  wield  their  little  tridents.     But  this  Isle, 
The  greatest  and  the  best  of  all  the  main. 
He  quarters  to  his  blue-haired  deities  ; 
And  all  this  tract  that  fronts  the  falling  sun  30 

A  noble  Peer  of  mickle  trust  and  power 
Has  in  his  charge,  with  tempered  awe  to  guide 
An  old  and  haughty  nation,  proud  in  arms  : 
Where  his  fair  offspring,  nursed  in  princely  lore, 
Are  coming  to  attend  their  father's  state. 
And  new-intrusted  sceptre  ;   but  their  way 
Lies  through  the  perplexed  paths  of  this  drear  wood, 
fThe  nodding  horror  of  whose  shady  brows 
.Threats  the  forlorn  and  wandering  passenger  ; 
And  here  their  tender  age  might  suffer  peril,  40 

But  that  by  quick  command  from  sovran  Jove 
I  was  despatched  for  their  defence  and  guard ! 
And  listen  why  ;   for  I  will  tell  you  now 
What  never  yet  was  heard  in  tale  or  song. 
From  old  or  modern  bard,  in  hall  or  bower. 

Bacchus,  that  first  from  out  the  purple  grape 
Crushed  the  sweet  poison  of  misused  wine, 
After  the  Tuscan  mariners  transformed. 
Coasting  the  Tyrrhene  shore,  as  the  winds  listed, 
On  Circe's  island  fell.     (Who  knows  not  Circe,  50 

The  daughter  of  the  Sun,  whose  charmed  cup 
Whoever  tasted  lost  his  upright  shape. 
And  downward  fell  into  a  grovelling  swine.?) 
This  nymph,  that  gazed  upon  his  clustering  locks, 
With  ivy  berries  wreathed,  and  his  blithe  youth, 
Had  by  him,  ere  he  parted  thence,  a  son 
Much  like  his  father,  but  his  mother  more. 


COMUS.  9 

Whom  therefore  she  brought  up,  and  Comus  named  : 

Who,  ripe  and  frolic  of  his  full-grown  age. 

Roving  the  Celtic  and  Iberian  fields,  60 

At  last  betakes  him  to  this  ominous  wood, 

And,  in  thick  shelter  of  black  shades  imbowered,  -- 

Excels  his  mother  at  her  mighty  art ; 

Offering  to  every  weary  traveller 

His  orient  liquor  in  a  crystal  glass. 

To  quench  the  drouth  of  Phcebus  ;  which  as  they  taste 

(For  most  do  taste  through  fond  intemperate  thirst), 

Soon  as  the  potion  works,  their  human  countenance, 

The  express  resemblance  of  the  gods,  is  changed 

Into  some  brutish  form  of  wolf,  or  bear,  70 

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  than  before. 

And  all  their  friends  and  native  home  forget. 

To  roll  with  pleasure  in  a  sensual  sty. 

Therefore,  when  any  favoured  of  high  Jove 

Chances  to  pass  through  this  adventurous  glade. 

Swift  as  the  sparkle  of  a  glancing  star  80 

I  shoot  from  heaven,  to  give  him  safe  convoy. 

As  now  I  do.     But  first  I  must  put  off 

These  my  sky-robes  spun  out  of  Iris'  woof, 

And  take  the  weeds  and  likeness  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  wild  winds  when  they  roar, 

And  hush  the  waving  woods  ;   nor  of  less  faith, 

And  in  this  office  of  his  mountain  watch 

Likeliest,  and  nearest  to  the  present  aid  90 

Of  this  occasion.     But  I  hear  the  tread 

Of  hateful  steps  ;   I  must  be  viewless  now. 


lO  COMUS. 

COMUS  enters^  with  a  charming-rod  in  one  hand^  his 
glass  in  the  other;  with  hi7n  a  rout  of  monsters^ 
headed  like  sundry  sorts  of  wild  beasts^  but  otherwise 
like  men  and  women^  their  apparel  glistering :  they 
come  in  making  a  riotous  and  unruly  noise^  with 
torches  in  their  hands. 

Comus.     The  star  that  bids  the  shepherd  fold 
Now  the  top  of  heaven  doth  hold  ; 
And  the  gilded  car  of  day 
His  glowing  axle  doth  allay 
In  the  steep  Atlantic  stream  ; 
And  the  slope  sun  his  upward  beam 
Shoots  against  the  dusky  pole, 

Pacing  toward  the  other  goal  loo 

Of  his  chamber  in  the  east. 
Meanwhile,  welcome  joy  and  feast, 
Midnight  shout  and  revelry, 
Tipsy  dance  and  jollity. 
Braid  your  locks  with  rosy  twine, 
Dropping  odours,  dropping  wine. 
Rigour  now  is  gone  to  bed  ; 
And  Advice  with  scrupulous  head, 
Strict  Age,  and  sour  Severity, 

With  their  grave  saws,  in  slumber  lie.  no 

We  that  are  of  purer  fire 
Imitate  the  starry  quire,t  -^ 
Who,  in  their  nightly  watchful  spheres. 
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  faeries  and  the  dapper  elves. 
By  dimpled  brook  and  fountain-brim, 
The  wood-nymphs,  decked  with  daisies  trim,  120 


COMUS.  II 

Their  merry  wakes  and  pastimes  keep  : 

What  hath  night  to  do  with  sleep  ? 

Night  hath  better  sweets  to  prove  ; 

Venus  now  wakes,  and  wakens  Love. 

Come,  let  us  our  rites  begin  ; 

'Tis  only  daylight  that  makes  sin, 

Which  these  dun  shades  will  ne'er  report. 

Hail,  goddess  of  nocturnal  sport, 

Dark-veiled  Cotytto,  to  whom  the  secret  flame 

Of  midnight  torches  burns  !    mysterious  dame,  130 

That  ne'er  art  called  but  when  the  dragon  womb 

Of  Stygian  darkness  spets  her  thickest  gloom, 

And  makes  one  blot  of  all  the  air! 

Stay  thy  cloudy  ebon  chair, 

Wherein  thou  ridest  with  Hecate,  and  befriend 

Us  thy  vowed  priests,  till  utmost  end 

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

Ere  the  blabbing  eastern  scout. 

The  nice  Morn,  on  the  Indian  steep 

From  her  cabined  loop-hole  peep,  140 

And  to  the  tell-tale  Sun  descry 

Our  concealed  solemnity. 

Come,  knit  hands,  and  beat  the  ground 

In  a  light  fantastic  round. 

The  Measure.  ^ 

Break  off,  break  off!    I  feel  the  different  pace 

Of  some  chaste  footing  near  about  this  ground. 

Run  to  your  shrouds  within  these  brakes  and  trees  ; 

Our  number  may  affright.     Some  virgin  sure 

(For  so  I  can  distinguish  by  mine  art) 

Benighted  in  these  woods!     Now  to  my  charms,      150 

And  to  my  wily  trains  :    I  shall  ere  long 

Be  well  stocked  with  as  fair  a  herd  as  grazed 

About  my  mother  Circe.     Thus  I  hurl 


12  COMUS. 

My  dazzling  spells  into  the  spongy  air, 
Of  power  to  cheat  the  eye  with  blear  illusion, 
And  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,  i6o 

And  well-placed  word^ofglozing/  courtesy. 
Baited  with  reasons  not  unplausible. 
Wind  me  into  the  easy-hearted  man, 
(And  hug  him  into  snares.     When  once  her  eye 
Hath  met  the  virtue  of  this  magic  dust, 
I  shall  appear  some  harmless  villager. 
Whom  thrift  keeps  up  about  his  country  gear. 
But  here  she  comes  ;    I  fairly  step  aside, 
And  hearken,  if  I  may  her  business  hear. 

The  Lady  enters. 

Lady.     This  way  the  noise  was,  if  mine  ear  be  true, 
My  best  guide  now  :   methought  it  was  the  sound    171 
Of  riot  and  iU-managed  merriment. 
Such  as  the  jocund  flute  or  gamesome  pipe 
Stirs  up  among  the  loose  unlettered  hinds. 
When,  for  their  teeming  flocks  and  granges  full. 
In  wanton  dance  they  praise  the  bounteous  Pan, 
And  thank  the  gods  j,miss.     I  should  be  loth 
To  meet  the  rudeness  and  swilled  insolence 
Of  such  late  wassailers  ;   yet,  oh  !   where  else 
Shall  I  inform  my  unacquainted  feet  180 

In  the  blind  mazes  of  this  tangled  wood.-* 
My  brothers,  when  they  saw  me  wearied  out 
With  this  long  way,  resolving  here  to  lodge 
Under  the  spreading  favour  of  these  pines, 
Stepped,  as  they  said,  to  the  next  thicket-side 
To  bring  me  berries,  or  such  cooling  fruit 


COMUS.  13 

As  the  kind  hospitable  woods  provide. 
They  left  me  then  when  the  gray-hooded  Even, 
Like  a  sad  votarist  in  palmer's  weed,  ' 
Rose  from  the  hindmost  wheels  of  Phoebus'  wain.     190 
But  where  they  are,  and  why  they  came  not  back, 
Is  now  the  labour  of  my  thoughts  ;   'tis  likeliest 
They  had  engaged  their  wandering  steps  too  far, 
And  envious  darkness,  ere  they  could  return. 
Had  stole  them  from  me  :    else,  O  thievish  Night, 
Why  shouldst  thou,  but  for  some  felonious  end, 
In  thy  dark  lantern  thus  close  up  the  stars 
That  Nature  hung  in  heaven,  and  filled  their  lamps 
With  everlasting  oil,  to  give  due  light 
To  the  misled  and  lonely  traveller?  200 

This  is  the  place,  as  well  as  I  may  guess, 
Whence  even  now  the  tumult  of  loud  mirth 
Was  rife,  and  perfect  in  my  listening  ear ; 
Yet  nought  but  single  darkness  do  I  find. 
What  might  this  be.''     A  thousand  fantasies 
Begin  to  throng  into  my  memory, 
Of  calling  shapes,  and  beckoning  shadows  dire. 
And  airy  tongues  that  syllable  men's  names 
On  sands  and  shores  and  desert  wildernesses. 
These  thoughts  may  startle  well,  but  not  astound     210 
The  virtuous  mind,  that  ever  walks   attended 
By  a  strong  siding  champion.  Conscience. 
O,  welcome,  pure-eyed  Faith,  white-handed  Hope, 
Thou  hovering  angel  girt  with  golden  wings. 
And  thou  unblemished  form   of  Chastity ! 
I  see  ye  visibly,  and  now  believe 
That  He,  the  Supreme   Good,  to  whom  all  things  ill 
i  Are  but  as  slavish  officers  of  vengeance. 
Would  send  a  glistering  guardian,  if  need  were, 
To  keep  my  life  and  honour  unassailed —        ,  220 

Was  I  deceived,  or  did  a  sable  cloud 


14  COMUS. 

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  hallo  to  my  brothers,  but 
Such  noise  as  I  can  make  to  be  heard  farthest 
I'll  venture  ;   for  my  new-enlivened  spirits 
Prompt  me,  and  they  perhaps  are  not  far  off. 

Sojig. 

Sweet  Echo,  sweetest  nymph,  that  liv'st  unseen        230 
Within  thy  airy  shell 
By  slow  Meander's  margent  green. 
And  in  the  violet-embroidered  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  some  flowery  cave, 
Tell  me  but  v.'here,  240 

Sweet  Queen  of  parley.  Daughter  of  the  sphere  ! 

So  may'st  thou  be  translated  to  the  skies. 
And  give  resounding  grace  to  all  Heaven's  harmonies  ! 

Comus.     Can  any  mortal  mixture  of  earth's  mould 
Breathe  such  divine  enchanting  ravishment  "i 
Sure  something  holy  lodges  in  that  breast, 
And  with  these  raptures  moves  the  vocal  air 
To  testify  his  hidden  residence. 
How  sweetly  did  they  float  upon  the  wings 
Of  silence,  through  the  empty-vaulted  night,  250 

At  every  fall  smoothing  the  raven  down 
Of  darkness  till  it  smiled  !  I  have  oft  heard 
My  mother  Circe  with  the  Sirens  three, 
Amidst  the  flowery-kirtled  Naiades, 


COMUS.  15 

Culling  their  potent  herbs  and  baleful  drugs  ; 

Who,  as  they  sung,  would  take  the  prisoned  soul, 

And  lap  it  in  Elysium  :  Scylla  wept. 

And  chid  her  barking  waves  into  attention. 

And  fell  Charybdis  murmured  soft  applause. 

Yet  they  in  pleasing  slumber  lulled  the  sense,  260 

And  in  sweet  madness  robbed  it  of  itself; 

But  such  a  sacred  and  home-felt  delight, 

Such  sober  certainty  of  waking  bhss, 

I  never  heard  till  now.     I'll  speak  to  her. 

And  she. shall  be  my  queen. — Hail,  foreign  wonder! 

Whom  certain  these  rough  shades  did  never  breed, 

Unless  the  goddess  that  in  rural  shrine 

Dwell'st  here  with  Pan  or  Sylvan,  by  blest  song 

Forbidding  every  bleak  unkindly  fog 

To  touch  the  prosperous  growth  of  this  tall  wood.    270 

Lady.     Nay,  gentle  shepherd,  ill  is  lost  that  praise 
That  is  addressed  to  unattending  ears  : 
Not  any  boast  of  skill,  but  extreme  shift 
How  to  regain  my  severed  company, 
Compelled  me  to  awake  the  courteous  Echo 
To  give  me  answer  from  her  mossy  couch. 

Comus.    What  chance,  good  Lady,  hath  bereft  you  thus  .'* 

Lady.     Dim  darkness,  and  this  leavy  labyrinth. 

Co??ius.     Could    that   divide  you    from    near-ushering 
guides  } 

Lady.     They  left  me  weary  on  a  grassy  turf.  280 

Comus.     By  falsehood,  or  discourtesy,  or  why.? 

Lady.     To  seek  i'  the  valley  some  cool  friendly  spring. 

Cofntis.     And  left  your  fair  side  all  unguarded.  Lady  } 

Lady.   They  were  but  twain,  and  purposed  quick  return. 

Comiis.     Perhaps  forestalling  night  prevented  them. 

Lady.     How  easy  my  misfortune  is  to  hit ! 

Comus.     Imports  their  loss,  beside  the  present  need  ? 

Lady.     No  less  than  if  I  should  my  brothers  lose. 


1 6  COM  US. 

Comus.   Were  they  of  manly  prime,  or  youthful  bloom  ? 

Lady.     As  smooth  as  Hebe's  their  unrazored  lips.    290 

Comiis.     Two  such  I  saw,  what  time  the  laboured  ox 
In  his  loose  traces  from  the  furrow  came. 
And  the  swinked  hedger  at  his  supper  sat. 
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  than  human,  as  they  stood : 
I  took  it  for  a  faery  vision 
Of  some  gay  creatures  of  the  element, 
That  in  the  colours  of  the  rainbow  live,  300 

And  play  i'  the  plighted  clouds.     I  was  awe-strook, 
And,  as  I  passed,  I  worshipped  :   if  those  you  seek, 
It  were  a  journey  like  the  path  to  Heaven, 
To  help  you  find  them. 

Lady.  Gentle  villager, 

What  readiest  way  would  bring  me  to  that  place  ? 

Comus.     Due  west  it  rises  from  this  shrubby  point. 

Lady.     To  find  out  that,  good  shepherd,  I  suppose, 
In  such  a  scant  allowance  of  star-light. 
Would  overtask  the  best  land-pilot's  art. 
Without  the  sure  guess  of  well-practised  feet.  310 

Comus.     I  know  each  lane,  and  every  alley  green, 
Dingle,  or  bushy  dell,  of  this  wild  wood. 
And  every  bosky  bourn  from  side  to  side, 
My  daily  walks  and  ancient  neighbourhood ; 
And  if  your  stray  attendance  be  yet  lodged, 
Or  shroud  within  these  limits,  I  shall  know 
Ere  morrow  wake,  or  the  low-roosted  lark 
From  her  thatched  pallet  rouse  :   if  otherwise, 
I  can  conduct  you,  Lady,  to  a  low 
But  loyal  cottage,  where  you  may  be  safe  320 

Till  further  quest. 

Lady.  Shepherd,  I  take  thy  word, 


COMUS.  17 

And  trust  thy  honest-offered  courtesy, 
Which  oft  is  sooner  found  in  lowly  sheds, 
With  smoky  rafters,  than  in  tapestry  halls 
And  courts  of  princes,  where  it  first  was  named, 
And  yet  is  most  pretended.     In  a  place 
Less  warranted  than  this,  or  less  secure, 
I  cannot  be,  that  I  should  fear  to  change  it. 
Eye  me,  blest  Providence,  and  square  my  trial 
To  my  proportioned  strength  !  Shepherd,  lead  on.       330 

{^Exeunt. 

Enter  the  Two  Brothers. 

Elder  Brother.     Unmuffle,  ye  faint  Stars  ;  and  thou, 
fair  Moon, 
Thou  wont'st  to  love  the  traveller's  benison. 
Stoop  thy  pale  visage  through  an  amber  cloud, 
And  disinherit  Chaos,  that  reigns  here 
In  double  night  of  darkness  and  of  shades  ;     -^ 
Or,  if  your  influence  be  quite  dammed  up 
With  black  usurping  mists,  some  gentle  taper, 
Though  a  rush-candle  from  the  wicker  hole 
Of  some  clay  habitation,  visit  us 

With  thy  long  levelled  rule  of  streaming  light,  340 

And  thou  shalt  be  our  star  of  Arcady, 
Or  Tyrian  Cynosure. 

Second  Brother.  Or,  if  our  eyes 

Be  barred  that  happiness,  might  we  but  hear 
The  folded  flocks,  penned  in  their  wattled  cotes, 
7  Or  sound  of  pastoral  reed  with  oaten  stops, 
Or  whistle  from  the  lodge,  or  village  cock 
Count  the  night-watches  to  his  feathery  dames, 
'T would  be  some  solace  yet,  some  little  cheering. 
In  this  close  dungeon  of  innumerous  boughs. 
But,  Oh,  that  hapless  virgin,  our  lost  sister!  350 

Where  may  she  wander  now,  whither  betake  her 

V.  C.  2 


1 8  COM  US. 

From  the  chill  dew,  amongst  rude  burs  and  thistles? 
Perhaps  some  cold  bank  is  her  bolster  now, 
Or  'gainst  the  rugged  bark  of  some  broad  elm 
Leans  her  unpillowed  head,  fraught  with  sad  fears. 
What  if  in  wild  amazement  and  affright. 
Or,  while  we  speak,  within  the  direful  grasp 
Of  savage  hunger,  or  of  savage  heat ! 

Eld.  Bro.     Peace,  brother  :  be  not  over-exquisite 
To  cast  the  fashion  of  uncertain  evils  ;  360 

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  unprincipled  in  virtue's   book, 
And  the  sweet  peace  that  goodness  bosoms  ever. 
As  that  the  single  want  of  light  and  noise 
(Not  being  in  danger,  as  I  trust  she  is  not)  370 

Could  stir  the  constant  mood  of  her  calm  thoughts, 
And  put  them  into  misbecoming  plight. 
Virtue  could  see  to  do  what  Virtue  would 
I  By  her  own  radiant  light,  though  sun  and  moon 
Were  in  the  flat  sea  sunk.     And  Wisdom's  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  bustle  of  resort 
Were  all  to-ruffled,  and  sometimes  impaired.  380 

He  that  has  light  within  his  own  clear  breast 
May  sit  i'  the  centre,  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. 

Second  Brother.  'Tis  most  true 


COMUS.  19 

That  musing  Meditation  most  affects 

The  pensive  secrecy  of  desert  cell, 

Far  from  the  cheerful  haunt  of  men  and  herds, 

And  sits  as  safe  as  in  a  senate-house  ; 

For  who  would  rob  a  hermit  of  his  weeds,  390 

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  unenchanted  eye. 

To  save  her  blossoms,  and  defend  her  fruit, 

From  the  rash  hand  of  bold  Incontinence. 

You  may  as  well  spread  out  the  unsunned  heaps 

Of  miser's  treasure  by  an  outlaw's  den. 

And  tell  me  it  is  safe,  as  bid  me  hope  400 

Danger  will  wink  on  Opportunity, 

And  let  a  single  helpless  maiden  pass 

Uninjured  in  this  wild  surrounding  waste. 

Of  night  or  loneliness  it  recks  me  not ; 

I  fear  the  dread  events  that  dog  them  both. 

Lest  some  ill-greeting  touch  attempt  the  person 

Of  our  unowned  sister. 

Elder  Brothel'.  I  do  not,  brother. 

Infer  as  if  I  thought  my  sister's  state 
Secure  without  all  doubt  or  controversy ; 
Yet,  where  an  equal  poise  of  hope  and  fear  410 

Does  arbitrate  the  event,  my  nature  is 
That  I   incline  to  hope  rather  than  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. 

Second  Brother.  What  hidden  strength. 

Unless  the  strength  of  Heaven,  if  you  mean  that  .'* 

Eld.  Bro.     I  mean  that  too,  but  yet  a  hidden  strength, 


20  '  COMUS. 

Which,  if  Heaven  gave  it,  may  be  termed  her  own. 

'Tis  chastity,  my  brother,  chastity :  420 

She  that  has  that  is  clad  in  complete   steel. 

And,  like  a  quivered  nymph  with  arrows  keen, 

May  trace  huge  forests,  and  unharboured  heaths. 

Infamous  hills,  and  sandy  perilous  wilds  ; 

Where,  through  the  sacred  rays  of  chastity, 

No  savage  fierce,  bandite,  or  mountaineer, 

Will  dare  to  soil  her  virgin  purity  : 

Yea,  there  where  very  desolation  dwells, 

By  grots  and  caverns  shagged  with  horrid  shades. 

She  may  pass  on  with  unblenched  majesty,  430 

Be  it  not  done  in  pride,  or  in  presumption. 

Some  say  no  evil  thing  that  walks  by  night. 

In  fog  or  fire,  by  lake  or  moorish  fen. 

Blue  meagre  hag,  or  stubborn  unlaid  ghost, 

That  breaks  his  magic  chains  at  curfew  time, 

No  goblin,  or  swart  faery  of  the  mine. 

Hath  hurtful  power  o'er  true  virginity. 

Do  ye  believe  me  yet,  or  shall  I  call 

Antiquity  from  the  old  schools  of  Greece 

To  testify  the  arms  of  chastity.?  440 

Hence  had  the  huntress  Dian  her  dread  bow. 

Fair  silver-shafted  queen  for  ever  chaste. 

Wherewith  she  tamed  the  brinded  lioness 

And  spotted  mountain-pard,  but  set  at  nought 

The  frivolous  bolt  of  Cupid ;   gods  and  men 

Feared    her    stern   frown,   and    she    was   queen    o'   the 

woods. 
What  was  that  snaky-headed  Gorgon  shield 
That  wise  Minerva  wore,  unconquered  virgin. 
Wherewith  she  freezed  her  foes  to  congealed  stone. 
But  rigid  looks  of  chaste  austerity,  450 

And  noble  grace  that  dashed  brute  violence 
With  sudden  adoration  and  blank  awe.'* 


COMUS.  •  21 

So  dear  to  Heaven  is  saintly  chastity, 

That,  when  a  soul  is  found  sincerely  so, 

A  thousand  liveried^Jigels^ackey  her, 

Driving  far  off  each  thing  of  sin  and  guilt,  ^ 

And  in  clear  dream  and  solemn  vision 

Tell  her  of  things  that  no  gross  ear  can  hear ; 

Till  oft  converse  with  heavenly  habitants 

Begin  to  cast  a  beam  on  the  outward  shape,  460 

The  unpolluted  temple  of  the  mind,  | 

And  turns  it  by  degrees  to  the  soul's  essence, 

Till  all  be  made  immortal.     But  when  lust, 

By  unchaste  looks,  loose  gestures,  and  foul  talk, 

But  most  by  lewd  and  lavish  act  of  sin. 

Lets  in  defilement  to  the  inward  parts. 

The  soul  grows  clotted  by  contagion, 

Imbodies,  and  imbrutes,  till  she  quite  lose 

The  divine  property  of  her  first  being. 

Such  are  those  thick  and  gloomy  shadows  damp      470 

Oft  seen  in  charnel-vaults  and  sepulchres, 

Lingering  and  sitting  by  a  new-made  grave, 

As  loth  to  leave  the  body  that  it  loved, 

And  linked  itself  by  carnal  sensualty 

To  a  degenerate  and  degraded  state. 

Second  Brother.     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  nectared  sweets, 
Where  no  crude  surfeit  reigns. 

Elder  Brother.  List !   list !    I  hear  480 

Some  far-off  hallo  break  the  silent  air. 

Sec.  Bro.     Methought  so  too  ;  what  should  it  be.? 

Elder  Brother.  For  certain. 

Either  some  one,  like  us,  night-foundered  here, 
Or  else  some  neighbour  woodman,   or,   at  worst, 
Some  roving  robber  calling  to  his  fellows. 


22  COMUS. 

Second  Brother.  Heaven  keep  my  sister  !  Again,  again, 
and  near ! 
Best  draw,  and  stand  upon  our  guard. 

Elder  Brother.  I'll  hallo. 

If  he  be  friendly,  he  comes  well  :   if  not, 
Defence  is  a  good  cause,  and  Heaven  be  for  us  ! 

Enter  the  Attendant  Spirit,  habited  like  a  shepherd. 

That  hallo  I  should  know.     What  are  you  ?  speak.     490 
Come  not  too  near ;   you   fall  on  iron  stakes  else. 

Spirit.     What  voice  is  that  "i  my  young  Lord .''  speak 
again. 

Sec.  Bro.     O  brother,  'tis  my  father's  Shepherd,  sure. 

Eld.  Bro.  Thyrsis  !  whose  artful  strains  have  oft  delayed 
The  huddling  brook  to  hear  his  madrigal, 
And  sweetened  every  musk-rose  of  the  dale. 
How  camest  thou  here,  good  swain.?   hath  any  ram 
Slipped  from   the  fold,  or  young  kid  lost  his  dam, 
*Or  straggling  wether  the  pent  flock  forsook }    \^ 
How  couldst  thou  find  this  dark  sequestered  nook?  500 

Spirit.     O  my  loved  master's  heir,  and  his  next  joy, 
I  came  not  here  on  such  a  trivial  toy 
As  a  strayed  ewe,  or  to  pursue  the   stealth 
Of  pilfering  wolf;   not  all  the  fleecy  wealth 
That  doth   enrich  these  downs  is  worth   a  thought 
To  this  my  errand,  and  the  care  it  brought. 
But,  Oh  !    my  virgin  Lady,   where  is  she  ? 
How  chance  she  is  not  in  your  company  ? 

Elder  Brother.     To  tell  thee  sadly,  Shepherd,  without 
blame 
Or  our  neglect,  we  lost  her  as  we  came.  510 

Spirit.     Ay  me  unhappy  !    then  my   fears  are  true. 

Elder  Brother.     What  fears,  good  Thyrsis?     Prithee 
briefly  shew. 

Spirit.     I'll  tell  ye  ;   'tis  not  vain  or  fabulous, 


COMUS.  23 

(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  | 

Charactered  in  the  face.     This  have  J  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  obscured  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 


24  COMUS. 

The  wonted  roar  was  up  amidst  the  woods, 

And  filled  the  air  with  barbarous  dissonance ;  550 

At  which  I  ceased,  and  listened  them  a  while, 

Till  an  unusual  stop  of  sudden  silence 

Gave  respite  to  the  drowsy-flighted  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, 


COMUS.  25 

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  griesly  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. 


26  COM  us. 

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  H^emony,  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 


COMUS.  27 

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. 

Eld.  Bro.     Thyrsi s,  lead  on  apace  ;    I'll  follow  thee  ; 
And  some  good  angel  bear  a  shield  before  us  ! 

The  Scene  cha7iges  to  a  stately  palace.,  set  out  with  all 
ma7i7ier  of  delicious7iess :  soft  77m si c^  tables  spread 
with  all  dai7ities.  COMUS  appears  with  his  rabble^ 
aTtd  THE  Lady  set  i7i  a7i  e7ichatited  chair j  to  whom 
he  offe7's  his  glass,  which  she  puts  by.,  a7id  goes  about 
to  rise. 

C0711US.     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  thfe  freedom  of  my  mind 
With  all  thy  charms,   although  this  corporal  rind 
Thou  hast  immanacled,  while  Heaven  sees  good. 

Co7niis.     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  bud^  in  primrose  season. 
And  first  behold  this  cordial  julep  here, 
That  ^flames  and  dances  in  his  crystal  bounds, 


/ 


28  COMUS. 

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  dehcacy  ? 

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  ugly-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  wouldst  thou  seek  again  to  trap  me  here 

With  lickerish  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. 

Co?niis.     O  foolishness  of  men  !    that  lend  their  ears 

To  those  budge  doctors  of  the  Stoic  fur, 


COMUS.  29 

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  unvvithdrawing  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  Jike  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 


30  COMUS. 

i^  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  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  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  proportion. 
And  she  no  whit  encumbered  with  her  store  ; 
And  then  the  Giver  would  be  better  thanked, 


COMUS.  31 

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,  /f79° 

That  hath  so  well  been  taught  her  dazzling  fence  -Jt 

Thou  art  not  fit  to  hear  thyself  convinced  : 

Yet,  should  I  try,  the  uncontrolled  worth 

Of  this  pure  cause  would  kindle  my  rapt  spirits 

To  such  a  flame  of  sacred  vehemence. 

That  dumb  things  would  be  moved  to  sympathize, 

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 


32  COMUS. 

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  ift. 

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  enraged  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  wrist,  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  asphodil. 
And  through  the  porch  and  inlet  of  each  sense 


coMus.  33 

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 ; 

V.  C.  rt 


34  COMUS. 

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 
fUpon  thy  streams  with  wily  glance  ; 
ijRise,  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  shigs. 

By  the  rushy-fringed  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  printlcss  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  charmed  band 


COMUS.  35 

Of  true  virgin  here  distressed, 
Through  the  force  and  through  the  wile 
Of  unblessed  enchanter  vile. 

Sabrifta.     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  fingers  tip, 
Thrice  upon  thy  rubied  lip  : 
Next  this  marbled  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  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  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 


36  COMUS. 

With  groves  of  myrrh  and  cinnamon. 

Come,  Lady,  while  Heaven  lends  us  grace, 
Let  us  fly  this  cursed  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  Toiv7i  and  the 
P?'esident''s  Castle:  then' come  in  Co7/?itry  Dancers; 
after  them  the  Attendant  Spirit,  luith  the  two 
Brothers  and  the  Lady. 

Song. 

spirit.     Back,    shepherds,    back !     enough     your 
play,   '  '  X  . 

Till  next  sun-shine  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 


COMUS.  37 

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  crisped  shades  and  bowers 

Revels  the  spruce  and  jocund  Spring ; 

The  Graces  and  thei 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. 


I 


38  COMUS. 

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  looo 

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,  loio 

■^  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. 


LYCIDAS. 


41 


LYCIDAS. 


"  In  this  Monody  the  author  bewails  a  learned  Friend, 
unfortunately  drowned  in  his  passage  from  Chester  on 
the  Irish  Seas,  1637^  and  by  occasion  foretells  the  mine 
of  otcr  corrupted  Clergie  then  in  their  heightr 

Yet  once  more,  O  ye  laurels,  and  once  more, 

Ye  myrtles  brown,  with  ivy  never  sere, 

I  come  to  pluck  your  berries  harsh  and  crude, 

And  with  forced  fingers  rude 

Shatter  your  leaves  before  the  mellowing  year. 

Bitter  constraint,  and  sad  occasion  dear. 

Compels  me  to  disturb  your  season  due  ; 

For  Lycidas  is  dead,  dead  ere  his  prime, 

Young  Lycidas,  and  hath  not  left  his  peer. 

Who  would  not  sing  for  Lycidas?   he  knew  10 

Himself  to  sing,  and  build  the  lofty  rhyme. 

He  must  not  float  upon  his  watery  bier 

Unwept,  and  welter  to  the  parching  wind, 

Without  the  meed  of  some  melodious  tear. 

Begin  then,  Sisters  of  the  sacred  well. 
That  from  beneath  the  seat  of  Jove  doth  spring ; 
Begin,  and  somewhat  loudly  sweep  the  string. 
Hence  with  denial  vain  and  coy  excuse  ; 
So  may  some  gentle  Muse 


42  LYCIDAS. 

With  lucky  words  favour  my  destined  urn,  20 

And  as  he  passes  turn, 

And  bid  fair  peace  be  to  my  sable  shroud. 

For  we  were  nursed  upon  the  self-same  hill. 
Fed  the  same  flock,  by  fountain,  shade  and  rill : 
Together  both,  ere  the  high  lawns  appeared 
Under  the  opening  eyelids  of  the  Morn, 
We  drove  a-field,  and  both  together  heard 
What  time  the  gray-fly  winds  her  sultry  horn, 
Battening  our  flocks  with  the  fresh  dews  of  night. 
Oft  till  the  star  that  rose  at  evening  bright  30 

Toward  heaven's  descent  had  sloped  his  westering  wheel. 
Meanwhile  the  rural  ditties  were  not  mute. 
Tempered  to  the  oaten  flute ; 

Rough  Satyrs  danced,  and  Fauns  with  cloven  heel 
From  the  glad  sound  would  not  be  absent  long, 
And  old  Damoetas  loved  to  hear  our  song. 

But,  O  the  heavy  change,  now  thou  art  gone, 
Now  thou  art  gone,  and  never  must  return  ! 
Thee,  Shepherd,  thee  the  woods  and  desert  caves, 
With  wild  thyme  and  the  gadding  vine  o'ergrown,      40 
And  all  their  echoes  mourn. 
The  willows,  and  the  hazel  copses  green. 
Shall  now  no  more  be  seen 
Fanning  their  joyous  leaves  to  thy  soft  lays. 
As  killing  as  the  canker  to  the  rose. 
Or  taint-worm  to  the  weanling  herds  that  graze, 
Or  frost  to  flowers  that  their  gay  wardrobe  wear. 
When  first  the  white-thorn  blows  : 
Such,  Lycidas,  thy  loss  to  shepherd's  ear. 

Where  were  ye.  Nymphs,  when  the  remorseless  deep  50 
Closed  o'er  the  head  of  your  loved  Lycidas  ? 
For  neither  were  ye  playing  on  the  steep 
Where  your  old  bards,  the  famous  Druids,  lie, 
Nor  on  the  shaggy  top  of  Mona  high. 


LYCIDAS.  43 

Nor  yet  where  Deva  spreads  her  wizard  stream. 

Ay  me !    I  fondly  dream, 

Had  ye  been  there — for  what  could  that  have  done? 

What  could  the  Muse  herself  that  Orpheus  bore, 

The  Muse  herself,  for  her  enchanting  son, 

Whom  universal  Nature  did  lament,  60 

When,  by  the  rout  that  made  the  hideous  roar, 

His  gory  visage  down  the  stream  was  sent, 

Down  the  swift  Hebrus  to  the  Lesbian  shore? 

Alas  !   what  boots  it  with  uncessant  care 
To  tend  the  homely  slighted  shepherd's  trade, 
And  strictly  meditate  the  thankless  Muse? 
Were  it  not  better  done,  as  others  use, 
To  sport  with  Amaryllis  in  the  shade. 
Or  with  the  tangles  of  Neaera's  hair? 
Fame  is  the  spur  that  the  clear  spirit  doth  raise     70 
(That  last  infirmity  of  noble  mind) 
To  scorn  delights,  and  live  laborious  days ; 
But  the  fair  guerdon  when  we  hope  to  find. 
And  think  to  burst  out  into  sudden  blaze. 
Comes  the  blind  Fury  with  the  abhorred  shears, 
And  slits  the  thin-spun  life.     "  But  not  the  praise," 
Phoebus  replied,  and  touched  my  trembling  ears  : 
"  Fame  is  no  plant  that  grows  on  mortal  soil. 
Nor  in  the  glistering  foil 

Set  off  to  the  world,  nor  in  broad  rumour  lies,  80 

But  lives  and  spreads  aloft  by  those  pure  eyes, 
And  perfe'ct  witness  of  all-judging  Jove ; 
As  he  pronounces  lastly  on  each  deed. 
Of  so  much  fame  in  Heaven  expect  thy  meed." 

O  fountain  Arethuse,   and  thou  honoured  flood. 
Smooth-sliding  Mincius,  crowned  with  vocal  reeds, 
That  strain   I  heard  was  of  a  higher  mood  : 
But  now  my  oat  proceeds, 
And  listens  to  the  herald  of  the  sea, 


44  LYCIDAS. 

That  came  in  Neptune's  plea :  90 

He  asked  the  waves,  and  asked  the  felon  winds, 

What  hard  mishap  hath  doomed  this  gentle  swain  ? 

And  questioned  every  gust  of  rugged  wings 

That  blows  from  off  each  beaked  promontory. 

They  knew  not  of  his  story  ; 

And  sage  Hippotades  their  answer  brings  : 

That  not  a  blast  was  from  his  dungeon  strayed, 

The  air  was  calm,  and  on  the  level  brine 

Sleek  Panope  with  all  her  sisters  played. 

It   was  that  fatal  and  perfidious  bark,  100 

Built  in  the  eclipse,  and  rigged  with  curses  dark, 

That  sunk  so  low  that  sacred  head  of  thine. 

Next  Camus,  reverend  sire,  went  footing  slow, 
His  mantle  hairy,   and  his  bonnet  sedge. 
Inwrought  with  figures  dim,  and  on  the  edge 
Like  to  that  sanguine  flower  inscribed  with  woe. 
"Ah!   who  hath  reft"  (quoth  he)  "my  dearest  pledge?" 
Last  came,  and  last  did  go, 
The  Pilot  of  the  Galilean  Lake ; 

Two  massy  keys  he  bore  of  metals  twain  no 

(The  golden  opes,   the  iron  shuts  amain) ; 
He  shook  his  mitred  locks,  and  stern  bespake  : 
"  How  well  could  I  have  spared  for  thee,  young  swain, 
Enow  of  such  as  for  their  bellies'  sake 
Creep,  and  intrude,  and  climb  into  the  fold  ! 
Of  other  care  they  little  reckoning   make 
Than  how  to  scramble  at  the  shearers'  feast. 
And   shove   away  the  worthy  bidden  guest. 
Blind  mouths  !  that  scarce  themselves  know  how  to  hold 
A  sheep-hook,  or  have  learnt  aught  else  the  least    120 
That  to  the  faithful  herdman's  art  belongs  ! 
What  recks  it  them  ?    What  need  they  ?    They  are  sped  ; 
And  when  they  list,  their  lean  and  flashy  songs 
Grate  on  their  scrannel  pipes  of  wretched  straw  ; 


LYCIDAS.  45 

The  hungry  sheep  look  up,  and  are  not  fed, 

But  swoln  with  wind,  and  the  rank  mist  they  draw, 

Rot  inwardly,  and  foul  contagion  spread  ; 

Besides  what  the  grim  wolf  with  privy  paw 

Daily  devours  apace,  and  nothing  said  ; 

But  that  two-handed  engine  at  the  door  130 

Stands  ready  to  smite  once,  and  smite  no  more." 

Return,  Alpheus,  the  dread  voice  is  past 
That  shrunk  thy  streams  ;    return,   Sicilian   Muse, 
And  call  the  vales,  and  bid  them  hither  cast 
Their  bells,  and  flowrets  of  a  thousand  hues. 
Ye  valleys  low,  where  the  mild  whispers  use 
Of  shades,  and  wanton  winds,  and  gushing  brooks. 
On  whose  fresh  lap  the  swart  star  sparely  looks, 
Throw  hither  all  your  quaint  enamelled  eyes, 
That  on  the  green  turf  suck  the  honied  showers,     140 
And  purple  all  the  ground  with  vernal  flowers. 
Bring  the  rathe  primrose  that  forsaken  dies, 
The  tufted  crow-toe,  and  pale  jessamine. 
The  white  pink,  and  the  pansy  freaked  with  jet, 
The  glowing  violet, 

The  musk  rose,  and  the  well-attired  woodbine, 
With  cowslips  wan  that  hang  the  pensive  head, 
And  every  flower  that  sad  embroidery  wears  ; 
Bid  amaranthus  all  his  beauty  shed, 
And  daffadillies  fill  their  cups  with  tears,  150 

To  strew  the  laureate  hearse  where  Lycid  lies. 
For  so  to  interpose  a  little  ease. 
Let  our  frail  thoughts  dally  with  false  surmise  ; 
Ay  me !    whilst  thee  the  shores  and  sounding  seas 
Wash  far  away,  where'er  thy  bones  are  hurled  ; 
Whether  beyond  the  stormy  Hebrides, 
Where  thou  perhaps,  under  the  whelming  tide, 
Visit'st  the  bottom  of  the  monstrous  world  ; 
Or  whether  thou,  to  our  moist  vows  denied, 


4.6  LYCIDAS. 

Sleep'st  by  the  fable  of  Bellerus  old,  i6o 

Where  the  great  Vision  of  the  guarded  mount 
Looks  toward  Namancos  and  Bayona's  hold  : 
Look  homeward,  Angel,  now,  and  melt  with  ruth  ; 
And,  O  ye  dolphins,  waft  the  hapless  youth. 

Weep  no  more,  woeful  shepherds,  weep  no  more. 
For  Lycidas,  your  sorrow,  is  not  dead, 
Sunk  though  he  be  beneath  the  watery  floor ; 
So  sinks  the  day-star  in  the  ocean  bed, 
And  yet  anon  repairs  his  drooping  head. 
And  tricks  his  beams,  and  with  new-spangled  ore     170 
Flames  in  the  forehead  of  the  morning  sky  : 
So  Lycidas  sunk  low,  but  mounted  high. 
Through  the  dear  might  of  Him  that  walked  the  waves. 
Where,  other  groves  and  other  streams  along, 
With  nectar  pure  his  oozy  locks  he  laves, 
And  hears  the  unexpressive  nuptial  song. 
In  the  blest  kingdoms  meek  of  joy  and  love. 
There  entertain  him  all  the  saints  above, 
In  solemn  troops  and  sweet  societies. 
That  sing,  and  singing  in  their  glory  move,  180 

And  wipe  the  tears  for  ever  from  his  eyes. 
Now,  Lycidas,  the  shepherds  weep  no  more  ; 
Henceforth  thou  art  the  Genius  of  the  shore, 
In  thy  large  recompense,  and  shalt  be  good 
To  all  that  wander  in  that  perilous  flood. 

Thus  sang  the  uncouth  swain  to  the  oaks  and  rills. 
While  the  still  Morn  went  out  with  sandals  gray  ; 
He  touched  the  tender  stops  of  various  quills. 
With  eager  thought  warbling  his   Doric   lay  : 
And  now  the  sun  had  stretched  out  all  the  hills,    190 
And  now  was  dropt  into  the  western  bay  ; 
At  last  he  rose,  and  twitched  his  mantle  blue  : 
To-morrow  to  fresh  woods,  and  pastures  new. 


47 


NOTES. 


LAWES'S  DEDICATION  OF  THE  FIRST  EDITION 
OF  COMUS. 

Henry  Lawes,  1595 — 1662,  sometime  a  "Gentleman  of  the 
Chapel  Royal"  (i.e.  one  of  the  royal  choir),  and  a  member  of  the 
king's  "private  music"  (orchestra),  was  the  chief  composer  of  his 
age.  He  was  specially  noted  as  a  composer  of  incidental  music  for 
Masques  and  of  songs.  He  composed  in  1633  part  of  the  music 
for  Shirley's  great  Masque  The  Trhajiph  of  Peace,  and  all  the 
music  for  Carew's  equally  famous  CcBlum  Britannicum.  He 
wrote  the  music  for  Cotnus  (and  probably  for  Arcades),  acted  the 
part  of  "the  Attendant  Spirit"  when  the  piece  was  first  per- 
formed at  Ludlow  Castle  in  1634,  and  was  responsible  for  the 
publication  of  the  first  edition  in  1637.  He  seems  to  have  been 
one  of  Milton's  earliest  and  most  intimate  friends,  thanks,  no 
doubt,  to  their  common  love  of  music. 

Milton  addressed  the  following  Sonnet  to  him. 

"to    MR   H.    LAWES   ON    HIS    AIRS. 

Harry,  whose  tuneful  and  well-measured  song 
First  taught  our  English  music  how  to  span 
Words  with  just  note  and  accent,  not  to  scan 
With  Midas'  ears,  committing  short  and  long, 

Thy  worth  and  skill  exempts  thee  from  the  throng, 
With  praise  enough  for  Envy  to  look  wan  ; 
To  after  age  thou  shalt  be  writ  the  man 
That  with  smooth  air  couldst  humour  best  our  tongue. 


48  COM  US. 

Thou  honour'st  verse,  and  verse  must  lend  her  wing 
To  honour  thee,  the  priest  of  Phoebus'  quire, 
That  tunest  their  happiest  lines  in  hymn  or  story. 

Dante  shall  give  Fame  leave  to  set  thee  higher 
Than  his  Casella,  whom  he  wooed  to  sing, 
Met  in  the  milder  shades  of  Purgatory." 

This  Sonnet  appeared  as  an  introduction  to  a  volume  of 
"Choice  Psalmes,  put  into  Musick  for  three  Voices:  composed 
by  Henry  and  William  Lawes,  Brothers,  and  Servants  to  his 
Majestic :  1648."  The  date  of  the  composition  of  the  Sonnet 
was  Feb.  1646,  as  we  learn  from  the  Cambridge  MS.  Its 
familiar  tone  shows  that  the  intimacy  between  the  poet  and  the 
musician  had  not  been  affected  by  political  differences,  though 
Lawes,  like  his  brother  (who  fell  fighting  for  the  king  at  Chester 
in  1645),  was  an  ardent  Royalist,  and  the  volume  of  Psalms  to 
which  Milton's  poem  was  prefixed  was  dedicated  to  Charles. 
After  1648  we  do  not  hear  of  Lawes  in  connection  with  Milton, 
so  that  the  force  of  circumstances  may  have  driven  them  apart.- 
It  is  significant  that  Lawes's  dedication  of  Comus,  which  was 
reprinted  in  the  1645  edition  of  the  poem,  was  omitted  from  the 
1673  edition;  though  the  omission  may  have  been  due  to  another 
cause. 

The  first  four  lines  of  the  Sonnet,  which  should  be  compared 
with  Comus,  86 — 88  and  494 — 496,  give  a  very  precise  and 
musicianly  description  of  Lawes's  songs.  He  was  content  to 
make  his  music  subordinate  to  the  words,  preserving  their 
rhythm  and  accent  with  fidelity;  so  that  the  poetry,  not  the 
music  (very  often,  a  kind  of  recitative),  was  the  chief  element. 
This  quality  explains  his  great  popularity  with  the  poets  of  the 
period,  many  of  whom,  e.g.  Ilerrick,  Cartwright,  Waller,  had 
songs  set  to  music  by  him.     See  Grove's  Dictionary  of  Music. 

Lord  Brackley.  The  second  Earl  of  Bridgewater,  born  in 
1622;  he  succeeded  his  father  in  1649,  and  died  in  1686.  This 
dedication  was  omitted  (as  we  have  said)  from  the  edition  of 
1673;  not  unnaturally,  since  the  Earl  and  the  poet  had  taken 
opposite  sides  in  the  civil  troubles.  The  former  was  arrested  in 
1651  on  suspicion  of  being  a  Royalist.  Milton's  polemical  tract 
Pro  Populo  Anglicano  Defcnsio  appeared  in  that  year,  and  Todd 
says  that  the  Earl  of  Bridgewater  wrote  on  the  title-page  of  his 


NOTES.  49 

copy  "Liber  igne,  author  furca  dignissimi"  (i.e.  'the  book  well 
deserves  burning  and  the  author  hanging ').  For  the  rest  he  seems 
to  have  been  a  genial,  learned  man,  who  patronised  literature  and 
"delighted  much  in  his  library."  See  the  National  Dictionary 
of  Biography.  Of  the  younger  brother,  Mr  Thomas  Egerton, 
who  took  part  in  the  Masque,  little  is  known.  The  sister. 
Lady  Alice,  married  Richard  Vaughan,  Earl  of  Carberry. 

SIR   HENRY   WOTTON'S   LETTER. 

This  letter  is  interesting  as  one  of  the  earliest  extant 
testimonies  to  Milton's  genius.  That  he  valued  it  much  and 
thought  that  it  would  be  a  weighty  recommendation  of  Co?nus 
is  shown  by  his  causing  it  to  be  prefixed  to  the  1645  edition 
of  the  poem.  And  in  the  Second  Defence  he  says:  "On  my 
departure  for  Italy,  the  celebrated  Henry  Wotton  gave  me  a 
signal  proof  of  his  regard,  in  an  elegant  letter  which  he  wrote, 
not  only  breathing  the  warmest  friendship,  but  containing  some 
maxims  of  conduct  which  I  found  very  useful  in  my  travels  " 
{P.  W.  I.  255). 

Sir  Henry  Wotton,  1568 — 1639,  was  a  man  of  some  note  in 
diplomacy  and  literature.  He  represented  the  English  Court  at 
Venice  for  some  years;  and  afterwards  (1625)  became  Provost 
of  Eton,  and  took  orders  in  the  Church.  He  was  a  friend  of 
Isaac  Walton,  who  wrote  his  life.  Wotton's  chief  work  was 
published  posthumously  in  1651,  under  a  title  which  explains  its 
miscellaneous  contents:  '•'■  ReliquicB  Wottoniance ;  or,  a  Collection 
of  Lives,  Letters,  Poems,  with  Characters  of  sundry  Personages, 
and  other  incomparable  Pieces  of  Language  and  Art :  By  the 
curious  Pencil  of  the  ever-memorable  Sir  Henry  Wotton,  Knt., 
late  Provost  of  Eaton  College,  1651." 

At  least  one  of  his  poems  ("You  meaner  beauties  of  the 
night")  is  familiar  to  lovers  of  Jacobean  verse;  and  his  definition 
of  an  ambassador  as  "an  honest  man  sent  to  lie  abroad  for  the 
good  of  his  country "  is  still  fresh.  The  /quivoqtie  had  more 
point  then  than  now,  because  "  to  lie  "  was  technically  used  of 
an  ambassador's  residence  abroad  (Hannah).  Wotton  seems  to 
have  had  a  turn  for  aphorism.  His  favourite  motto — engraved 
on  his  tombstone — was  dispiitandi  pruritus  ecclesiarum  scabies 
(*an   itching  for   discussion  is   the  mania  of  churches').     Sir 

V.  C.  4 


50  COM  us. 

Henry  Wotton  admirably  represents  the  type  of  courtier,  wit 
and  scholar.  A  sympathetic  account  of  his  career  by  Dr  A.  W. 
Ward  has  been  published  recently. 

2.  the  first  taste.  Milton  had  retired  to  his  father's  house 
at  Horton  in  1632.  Horton  being  so  close  to  Eton,  it  is  curious 
that  Sir  Henry  had  not  previously  met  his  neighbour. 

6.  Mr  H.  Commonly  identified,  and  no  doubt  rightly, 
with  the  Broad  Church  divine  John  Hales,  who  was  for  some 
years  a  Fellow  of  Eton  and  Canon  of  Windsor.  His  learning 
won  for  him  the  title  "the  ever-memorable."  There  are  allusions 
to  him  in  Wotton's  Reliquice. 

10.     banded i  discussed. 

16.  Doric,  i.e.  Theocritean.  Cf.  Lye.  189,  "With  eager 
thought  warbling  his  Doric  lay."  Wotton  shows  his  critical 
faculty  in  singling  out  the  lyric  portions  of  Comiis  for  special 
commendation.     Contrast  Johnson's  criticism. 

•23.  Mr  R.  This  "common  friend"  was  probably  John 
Rouse,  of  Oriel  College,  sometime  (1620 — 1652)  Bodley's 
Librarian.  Milton  had  been  incorporated  M.A.  at  Oxford  in 
1635,  according  to  the  common  practice,  and  on  one  of  his 
visits  to  the  University  must  have  found  his  way  to  the  Bodleian 
Library.  Some  years  later  (1647)  the  poet  addressed  Rouse 
in  an  elaborate  Latin  ode,  celebrating  the  blissful  silence  and 
treasures  of  the  great  Library. 

in  the  very  close.  Sir  Henry  Wotton  means  that  a  copy 
of  Lawes's  edition  of  Coffins  was  inserted  at  the  entl  of  a 
volume  of  poems  by  "the  late  R":  probably  the  Cambridge 
poet  Thomas  Randolph,  who  died  in  1634  and  whose  poems 
were  published  by  his  brother  in  1638,  the  year  in  which 
Sir  Henry  wrote  the  letter.  Randolph  was  one  of  the  ablest  of 
the  followers  (intellectual  "  sons,"  as  they  called  themselves)  of 
Ben  Jonson,  and  wrote  several  amusing  plays.  He  was  con- 
temporary with  Milton  at  Cambridge. 

26.  con  la  bocca  dolce,  i.e.  with  a  pleasant  taste  in  the  mouth. 
Cf.  French  bonne  botiche. 

27,  28.  Sir  Henry  modestly  implies  that  he  has  more  right 
to  speak  as  an  authority  on  travel  than  on  literature. 

29.  blanch,  omit,  pass  by.  If  we  used  the  verb  at  all  we 
should  treat  it  as  intransitive,  inserting  from. 

Paris.     Milton  arrived  there  in  April  or  May,   1638.     He 


NOTES.  5 1 

seems    to  have  stayed   some  time,    not  reaching  Florence  till 
August. 

30.  Mr  M.  B.  Identified  with  Michael  Branthwaite. 
Sir  Henry  Wotton  mentions  him  in  the  Reliquice  as  ''hereto- 
fore his  Majesties  Agent  in  Venice,  a  gentleman  of  approved 
confidence  and  sincerity,"  p.  546.  This  was  in  1626.  Afterwards 
Branthwaite  became  diplomatic  agent  at  Paris. 

Page  5,  line  i.  Lord  S.,  i.e.  Lord  Scudamore,  son  of  the 
English  ambassador.  Viscount  Scudamore,  who  showed  Milton 
much  courtesy  in  Paris ;  as  we  learn  from  his  Second  Defence  of 
the  People  of  England.  (This  was  one  of  Milton's  political 
treatises,  written  in  Latin  to  justify  the  English  Civil  War,  and 
more  especially  the  execution  of  Charles  I.,  in  the  eyes  of 
Europe.  Milton's  first  pamphlet  on  the  subject  had  elicited  violent 
attacks  upon  himself,  his  life  and  character ;  in  his  reply  he  gave 
a  sketch  of  his  career.  The  Second  Defence  therefore  has  very 
great  autobiographical  interest.) 

governor \  we  should  say  'tutor.' 

7.  Marseilles... to  Genoa.  The  route  that  Addison  took;  see 
his  Travels.  But  Milton  entered  Italy  by  way  of  Nice,  coasted 
thence  to  Genoa,  and  went  on  to  Florence,  the  favourite  resting- 
place  of  English  travellers,  where  he  spent  some  months. 

8,  9.  a  Gravesend  barge.  Cf.  Hasted's  History  of  Kent., 
vol.  I.  p.  450:  "King  Richard  II.  granted  to  the  Abbat  and 
Convent  of  St  Mary  Graces.,  that  the  inhabitants  of  Gravesend 
and  Milton  should  have  the  sole  privilege  of  carrying  passengers 
by  water  from  hence  to  London,  on  condition  that  they  should 
provide  boats  for  that  purpose,  and  carry  all  passengers  either  at 
^d.  per  head  with  their  bundle,  or  let  the  hire  of  the  whole  boat 
at  4^.  This  charter  was  confirmed  several  times  afterwards  by 
succeeding  kings,  and  under  proper  regiilation  by  the  legislature 
they  still  (1778)  enjoy  the  privilege." 

12.  At  Siena.  This  was  in  the  autumn  of  1592.  "I  am 
here,"  Sir  Henry  writes  to  Lord  Zouch  from  Siena,  Oct.  25, 
1592,  "by  the  means  of  certain  Persons  (to  whom  I  was  recom- 
mended) gotten  into  the  House  of  Scipione  Alberti,  an  ancient 
Courtier  of  the  Popes,  and  a  Gentleman  of  this  Town,  at  whose 
Table  I  live."  In  a  letter  dated  August  22,  1593,  he  mentions 
his  Siena  host  again,  and  also  refers  to  the  Duke  of  Pagliano — 
a  reference  which  I  cannot  explain. 

4—2 


52  COMUS. 

17,  18.  at  my  dej>ariure.  Evidently  the  story  that  follows 
was  a  favourite  with  Sir  Henry;  he  tells  it  in  the  Keliquur. 

21,  1^.  i  pensieri  etc.  "Your  thoughts  close  and  your 
countenance  loose"  (literally  'open'),  as  George  Herbert  renders 
the  saying  in  his  collection  of  proverbs  entitled  Jacula  Pru- 
dentum  ('  Shafts  of  the  Wise'). 

In  spite  of  the  maxim  Milton  gave  free  expression  to  his 
strong  Protestant  views,  offending  the  English  Jesuits  and 
others  at  Rome.    See  Mark  Pattison's  Life  of  Milton^  pp.  33 — 38. 

23.  Delphian  oracle^  i.e.  maxim  which  might  have  been 
uttered  by  the  oracle  of  Apollo  at  Delphi. 

35.  entertain  you  with  ho/ne-novelties,  i.e.  write  news  of 
events  in  England.  No  further  correspondence  between  Sir 
Henry  Wotton  and  INIilton  is  extant. 

COMUS. 
G.  =  Glossary. 

The  performance.  This  took  place  on  Michaelmas  night,  1634, 
in  the  great  Hall  of  Ludlow  Castle,  afterwards,  says  Professor 
Masson,  called  '  Comus  Hall.'  At  the  end  of  the  room  a  stage 
was  erected,  concealed  from  the  audience  by  a  curtain  or  screen 
until  the  piece  began.  The  Earl  and  Countess  of  Bridgewater 
occupied  the  Throne  of  State,  the  audience  filling  the  rest  of 
the  hall.  When  everything  was  ready  the  scene,  representing 
a  wood,  was  disclosed. 

The  Persons.  The  Masque  contains  six  characters.  We 
know  how  four  of  the  parts  were  filled,  viz.  that  the  Lady  was 
represented  by  the  young  Lady  Alice  Egerton,  daughter  of  the 
Earl  of  Bridgewater ;  the  two  Brothers  by  her  brothers  Lord 
Brackley  and  Mr  Thomas  Egerton;  and  the  Attendant  Spirit 
by  Lawes.  It  is  likely  that  all  four  performers  took  part 
in  the  representation  of  Arcades,  while  it  is  known  that 
Lord  Brackley  and  his  brother  were  among  the  Masquers  in 
Carew's  Ccelum  Britannicutn  acted  in  the  previous  February. 
Probably  therefore  Comus  had  the  advantage  of  tolerably  com- 
petent amateur  acting.  For  Sabrina  and  Comus,  no  doubt, 
some  relatives  or  friends  of  the  Bridgewater  family  appeared. 

presented,  i.e.  represented  the  characters.  Cf.  The  Tempesty 
IV.  167,  "when  I  presented  Ceres";  and  Tennyson's /W«f<rw,  i., 


NOTES.  53 

"  Remembering  how  we  three  presented  Maid, 
Or  Nymph,  or  Goddess,  at  high  tide  of  feast, 
In  masque  or  pageant  at  my  father's  court." 

The  first  Scene.  The  stage-directions  throughout  Comiis  are 
extremely  simple.  Usually  Masque-writers  —  especially  Ben 
Jonson,  Campion,  and  Shirley — insert  very  full  details  as  to 
the  arrangement  of  the  scenes,  the  dresses  of  the  dramatis 
per  some,  the  music,  and  so  forth. 

discovers,  reveals ;  see  G. 

The  Attendant  Spirit  descends.  Probably  the  scenery  in 
the  background  represented  a  hill ;  down  this  the  Spirit  comes, 
and  at  the  actual  representation  of  Comiis  his  arrival  was 
heralded  by  music.  This  we  know  from  the  Bridgewater  MS. 
(the  stage-copy  in  accordance  with  which  the  piece  was  per- 
formed), where  the  attendant  Genius  enters  with  a  song.  The 
song  consisted  of  lines  976 — lorr. 

To  detach  the  passage  from  its  context  and  make  it  a  speech 
of  arrival  instead  of  departure  only  one  slight  change  was 
necessary,  viz.  ''^from  the  heavens"  in  line  976  for  "/<?."  No 
doubt,  Lawes  made  the  change,  and  we  may  assume  that  the 
details  of  the  performance  of  Comus  were  arranged  by  him,  not 
Milton.  By  introducing  music  the  alteration  gave  the  piece  a 
more  effective  opening  from  the  stage  point  of  view,  but  from 
the  literary  was  objectionable.  For  having  explained  in  the 
song  that  he  came  from  heaven,  it  was  superfluous  for  the  Spirit 
to  add  that  his  mansion  lay  before  the  threshold  of  Jove's  palace. 
Also,  spoken  as  an  Epilogue,  the  verses  had  a  point  which  they 
here  lose ;  they  were  meant  to  emphasize  the  moral  of  Coimis. 

I — 9.  This  introductory  speech  serves  as  a  prologue,  of 
the  type  which  Euripides  employed  so  much  as  a  way  of 
explaining  the  purport  of  a  play  before  any  action  took 
place.  In  the  third  draft  of  the  scheme  of  Paradise  Lost, 
which  he  originally  intended  to  treat  in  the  form  of  a  tragedy, 
Milton  gave  the  outline  of  a  prologue  similar  to  the  present : 
"  Moses  irpoXoyi^ei,  recounting  how  he  assumed  his  true  body ; 
that  it  corrupts  not "  etc.  Then  followed  a  sketch  of  the  drama, 
divided  into  five  acts.  The  paper  referred  to  is  among  the 
Milton  MSS.  at  Trinity  College ;  see  Introduction,  p.  xxii. 

•2.  those.  Milton  often  uses  the  demonstrative,  like  Lat. 
ilk,  to  mean  'the  illustrious,'  'of  whom  all  have  heard.' 


54  COMUS. 

3.  spirits,  i.e.  spiritual  beings  like  himself,  and  the  souls  of 
the  "just"  (13). 

insphered,  dwelling  in  their  allotted  sphere,  *  Sphere '  is  a  word 
which  he  always  uses  with  some  reference  to  the  Ptolemaic  idea 
of  the  ten  spheres  or  regions  of  space  encircling  the  Earth,  the 
supposed  centre  of  the  Universe.     Cf.  //  Fenseroso,  88,  89, 

"  unsphere 
The  spirit  of  Plato," 
i.e.  call  it  down  from  the  sphere  which  it  inhabits.     So  Shelley 
in  the  Adonais  (XLVI.)  represents  the  soul  of  Keats  ascending 
upward  and  being  welcomed  by  his  brother-poets : 
" '  Thou  art  become  as  one  of  us,'  they  cry  ; 
'  It  was  for  thee  yon  kingless  sphere  has  long 
Swung  blind  in  an  unascended  majesty, 
Silent  alone  amid  a  Heaven  of  song.'" 
4 — II.     What  Milton  has  in  mind  is  the  classical  conception 
of  "  the  gods  who  live  at  ease  "  {Par.  Lost,  11.  868)  in  Olympus, 
the  heaven  of  Greek  mythology. 

"Not  by  winds  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.     Therein 
the  blessed  gods  are  glad  for  all  their  days,"  Homer,  Odyssey, 
VI.    43 — 46    (Butcher    and    Lang's   version).      Cf.    Tennyson's 
GLnone  (which  is  full  of  Homeric  spirit  and  allusion)  : 
"  gods,  who  have  attain'd 
Rest  in  a  happy  place  and  quiet  seats 
Above  the  thunder,  with  undying  bliss." 
serene  ;  scan  serene  and  see  note  on  273. 

5.  smoke  and  stir ;  an  echo  perhaps  of  Horace's  famous  line 
funiujH  et  opes  strepitiinujuc  Rovue  ('  the  reek  and  riches  and 
din  of  Rome'),  Odes,  III.  29.  12.  Note  how  "smoke"  is 
antithetic  to  "serene"  (used  in  the  strict  sense  of  Lat.  serenus, 
bright,  cloudless),  and  "stir"  to  "calm." 

dim ;  carrying  on  the  picture  in  "smoke." 

6.  low-thoughtcd  care,  i.e.  anxiety  about  the  material 
interests  of  life.  Pope  borrowed  the  phrase;  cf.  Eloisa  to 
Abelard,   297,  298  : 

"O  Grace  serene!     O  Virtue  heavenly  fiiir  ! 
Divine  oblivion  of  low-thoughted  care!" 

7.  i.e.  penned  up  and  shacklcH,  like  animals  in  a  pound. 


NOTES.  55 

pestered... pinf old ;  see  each  in  the  Glossary. 

8.  Strive  to  keep  up;  implying  that  men  do  so  too  long, 
instead  of  being  glad,  when  death  comes,  to  change  this  life  for 
a  better. 

frail,  insecure,  easily  brought  to  an  end,  and  full  of  unrest 
("  feverish  ")  while  it  does  last. 

9.  the  crown  ;  that  is,  the  "incorruptible"  crown  (i  Corin- 
thians, ix.  25)  of  everlasting  life  {Revelation,  ii.  10,  iii.  11). 

10.  mortal  change,  change  from  mortality.  Some  interpret 
'  a  change  brought  about  by  his  mortality. ' 

11.  Cf.  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  i.  3.  28,  "Though  you  in 
swearing  shake  the  throned  gods."  Milton,  however,  is  re- 
ferring not  only  to  this  classical  idea  of  the  "quiet  seats"  of 
"the  gods,"  but  also  to  the  Scriptural  account  of  the  "four 
and  twenty  seats"  of  the  elders  "clothed  in  white  raiment; 
and  [having]  on  their  heads  crowns  of  gold"  {^Revelation,  iv.  4). 

And  here  note  a  great  feature  of  Milton's  style,  namely,  the 
blending  of  Scriptural  and  classical  associations.  His  mind  was 
steeped  in  knowledge  of  the  Bible  and  the  classics,  and  what  he 
writes  is  coloured  now  by  one  influence,  now  by  the  other,  and 
often  by  both  together  in  a  way  that  seems  to  us  sometimes  quite 
incongruous.  Thus  in  Comus  and  Lycidas  we  are  moving  in  a 
pagan  world  where  the  deities  of  Greek  and  Latin  mythology 
reign;  nevertheless  the  Scripturalinfluence  is  often,  if  not  always, 
present.  This  mixture  of  alien  associations  is  opposed  to  modern 
taste. 

the  enthroned  gods,  i.e.  the  gods  enthroned  on.  Such  in- 
versions of  the  order  of  words  are  common;  cf.  Par.  Lost,  I.  206, 
"With  fixed  anchor  in  his  scaly  rind."  So  in  Richard II.  ill. 
I,  9,  "A  happy  gentleman  in  blood  and  lineaments."  See 
Abbott's  Shakespearian  Grammar,  p.  308. 

1 2.  be;  see  G.  Abbott  (p.  212)  notes  that  be  is  often  used 
"  to  refer  to  a  number  of  persons,  considered  not  individually, 
but  as  a  kind  or  class" — as  here. 

13.  j'jtst,  righteous,  that  golden  key ;  a  favourite  poetic 
allusion  (see  Zj/r.  no,  in,  note),  variously  applied.  Ben  Jonson 
in  his  Masque  The  Barriers,  describing  the  figure  of  Truth,  says  : 

"Her  right  hand  holds  a  sun  with  burning  rays, 
Her  left  a  curious  bunch  of  golden  keys 
With  which  heaven's  gates  she  locketh  and  displays." 


56  coMus. 

Gray  in  the  Progress  of  Poesy  (in.  i)  speaks  of  the  Muse 
giving  Shakespeare  at  his  birth  the  "golden  keys"  of  Comedy 
and  Tragedy: 

"  Thine  too  these  golden  keys,  immortal  Boy  ! 
This  can  unlock  the  gates  of  Joy ; 
Of  Horror  that,  and  thrilling  Fears, 
Or  ope  the  sacred  source  of  sympathetic  Tears." 
And  Tennyson  speaks  of  the  humble-born  genius  who  rises  to 
high  place  in  the  State,  "And  lives  to  clutch  the  golden  keys"  of 
office  and  power  {In  Memoriam^  LXIV.).    It  is  instructive  to  note 
how  great  imaginations  give  a  fresh  turn  to  the  familiar,  putting 
it  in  a  new  light,  adding  new  associations. 

15.  but  for  such,  except  on  their  account,  to  benefit  them. 

16.  ambrosial,  heavenly,  such  as  the  gods  have;  see  G. 
•weeds,  raiment ;  see  G. 

17.  The  line  is  commonly  explained  'the  noisome  exhala- 
tions of  this  sin-corrupted  earth.'  But  mould  has  the  general 
sense  'substance,  material'  in  Milton  (cf  244),  and  I  think  that 
it  is  intended  here — implying  '  flesh,'  the  Spirit  having  assumed 
a  mortal  form.  Cf.  Par.  Lost,  IX.  485,  where  Adam  is  described 
as  "Heroic  built,  though  of  terrestrial  mould ^^  which  is  ex- 
plained by  "formed  of  earth"  (149),  "this  man  of  clay" 
{176). 

18 — 21.  For  the  division  of  empire  cf.  Iliad,  xv.  190  et  seq. 
where  Poseidon  (the  Greek  god  of  the  sea  =  Latin  Neptunus) 
says:  "Three  brethren  are  we,  and  sons  of  Kronos,  whom  Rhea 
bare,  Zeus  and  myself,  and  Hades  is  the  third,  the  ruler  of  the 
folk  in  the  under-world.  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 :  and  Hades  drew  the  murky  darkness,  and  Zeus  the  wide 
heaven,  in  clear  air  and  clouds,  but  the  earth  and  the  high 
Olympus  are  yet  common  to  all — "  The  Iliad,  Done  into  English 
Prose  by  Lang,  Leaf  and  Myers. 

19.  every. ..each,  A  favourite  variation  with  Milton;  cf.  31  r 
and  Lye.  93,  94.     Etymologically  cver-y  =  ever-each. 

20.  Took  in,  received  as  his  share,  by  lot ;  cf.  the  extract 
just  quoted  from  Iliad,  XV.  Uwixt ;  referring  to  place,  i.e. 
Neptune's  realm  lay  between  Heaven,  the  dominion  of  Jove 
(Gk.  Zeus),  and  the  nether  world. 


NOTES.  57 

Some  editors  place  a  comma  after  took  in,  and  explain  by  lot 
^twixt  =hy  agreement  between. 

nether  Jove;  that  is  Hades  (Lat.  Plato),  often  called  'the 
infernal  Zeus'  {KaraxOouLos,  literally  'underground,'  hence  'be- 
longing to  the  lower  regions'). 

21 — 23.  Newton  thought  that  the  germ  of  this  was  Gaunt's 
famous  description  of  England  as  "  This  precious  stone  set  in 
the  silver  sea,"  Richard  II.  ii.  i.  46.  Probably  the  whole 
passage  was  in  Milton's  mind  when  he  wrote  the  lines  21 — 28. 

23.  unadorned,  i.e.  without  other  adornment. 

24,  25.  i.e.  Neptune  entrusts  each  island  to  the  government 
of  some  particular  sea-deity — these  inferior  rulers  all  acknow- 
ledging him  as  their  supreme  lord. 

27.  little,  i.e.  as  compared  with  the  great  trident,  a  three- 
pronged  (Lat.  tridens)  sceptre,  of  Neptune.  Spenser  in  the 
dedicatory  stanzas  of  The  Faerie  Qtieene  salutes  Elizabeth  as 
"  Great  Ladie  of  the  greatest  Isle." 

29.  quarters,  assigns,  bhie-haired.  From  the  stage-direc- 
tions in  other  Masques  it  may  be  inferred  that  convention 
associated  hair  of  this  hue  with  water-deities.  It  was  intended, 
of  course,  to  symbolise  the  colour  of  the  waves.  Thus  in 
Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Masque  of  the  Inner  Temple  and  Gray*s 
Inn  (1612)  four  Naiads  appear  on  the  stage,  "with  blueish 
tresses  on  their  heads,  gaidands  of  water-lilies."  Poetic  tradi- 
tion counts  for  much  in  the  Masque. 

Masson  says:  "There  seems  to  be  some  emphasis  on  the 
phrase  'blue-haired  deities,'  as  if  these  were  a  special  section 
of  the'  *  tributary  gods  '  of  line  24.  Can  there  be  a  recollection 
of  '  blue '  as  the  British  colour,  inherited  from  the  old  times 
of  the  blue-stained  Britons  who  fought  with  Caesar?" 

30.  this  tract ;  Wales. 

31.  noble  Peer,  i.e.  the  Earl  of  Bridgewater,  who  was 
present.  Milton  in  the  course  of  Co??ius  pays  a  compliment 
to  all  those  who  were  mainly  concerned  in  the  performance 
of  the  Masque;  cf.  86 — 88,  244 — 248,  297 — 301,  494 — 496. 
Personal  and  flattering  allusion  of  this  kind  was  a  marked  feature 
of  Masques. 

It  was  no  unusual  thing  for  the  Elizabethan  dramatists  to 
insert  pieces  of  flattery  to  the  Queen  when  they  knew  that  she 
would  be  present  at  the  representation  of  a  play. 


58  COMUS. 

mickh,  great ;  see  G. 

32.  with  tempered  awe,  with  a  due  mixture  of  firmness  and 
conciliation.  It  is  said  that  the  new  Lord  President  received 
particular  instructions  as  to  the  official  course  which  he  should 
pursue. 

33.  nation,  i.e.  the  Welsh.  Milton  knew  that  there  would 
be  Welshmen  present  among  his  audience.  One  of  Ben  Jonson's 
Entertainments  fulfils  the  promise  of  its  title — For  the  Honour 
of  Wales — and  pays  every  possible  compliment  to  the  "old  and 
haughty  nation,  proud  in  arms." 

34.  nursed  in  princely  lore.  **In  this  phrase  some  find  an 
allusion  to  a  link  with  Royalty  at  a  remote  point  in  the  pedigree 
of  the  Egerton  family  ;  others  find  a  reference  to  the  fact  that  the 
young  people  had  been  a  good  deal  at  Court.  The  more  natural 
meaning,  however,  is  simply  'highly-educated'" — Masson. 

36.  netv-intnisted.  The  Earl's  appointment  dated  from  the 
summer  of  1631  ;  but  he  did  not  formally  take  up  his  duties  till 
1634. 

37.  perplexed,  entangled;  the  Latin  sense,  as  in  Par.  Lost, 
IV.  176.  Cf.  Pope,  Messiah,  73,  "Waste  sandy  valleys,  once 
perplexed  with  thorn." 

38.  horror,  awe-inspiring  appearance. 

41.  Cf.  Arcades,  44,  45,  where  the  Genius  of  the  Wood 
proclaims  himself  the  minister  of  Jove. 

43.  I  will  tell  you.  Johnson  condemned  this  address  to  the 
audience;  "a  mode  of  communication  so  contrary  to  the  nature 
of  dramatic  representation,  that  no  precedents  can  support  it." 
But  Comus  is  a  Masque,  and  a  Masque  must  not  be  judged  in 
the  same  way  as  an  ordinary  drama. 

43 — 45.  A  claim  to  novelty  of  theme  or  treatment  is  one  of 
the  conventions  of  poetry  influenced  by  the  classics.  Thus  at 
the  outset  (i.  16)  of  Par.  Lost  Milton  says  that  his  Muse  is  about 
to  essay  "Things  unatlemptcd  yet  in  prose  or  rhyme."  Cf. 
Horace's  carmina  non  pritis  audita.. .canto  ('I  sing  strains 
never  heard  before '),  Odes,  in.  i.  2 — 4,  and  iv.  9.  3,  4,  where 
Horace  claims  for  himself  the  merit  of  originality  of  style. 

44,  45.  Milton  has  in  mind  a  scene  such  as  Scott  depicts 
in  The  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel.  Some  have  argued  that  these 
"bards"  of  the  middle  ages  were  "honoured  guests  in  the  castles 
of  the  nobles  "  to  whose  service  they  were  attached  ;  others  that 


NOTES.  59 

they  were  "  merely  wandering  harpers."    Perhaps  some  belonged 
to  the  one  class,  some  to  the  other ;  until  minstrelsy  fell  upon  evil 
days,  and  of  each  of  its  latest  few  followers  it  could  be  said  : 
'*A  wandering  Harper,  scorn'd  and  poor, 
He  begg'd  his  bread  from  door  to  door, 
And  tuned,  to  please  a  peasant's  ear, 
The  harp  a  king  had  loved  to  hear." 
hall  or  bower.     A  traditional  phrase  ;  cf.   Spenser's  Astro- 
phel,  27,  28: 

*'  And  he  himselfe  seemed  made  for  meriment, 
Merily  masking  both  in  bowre  and  hall." 
"Hall"  =  the  room  of  State  in  which  the  whole  household 
assembled  ;  "bower"  =  the  ladies'  private  room.     Cf.  The  Lay 
of  the  Last  Minstrel,  Canto  I.  i,  ri  ;  and  Wordsworth's  Sonnet 
"Milton,  thou  shouldst  be  living." 

48.  The  allusion  is  to  the  story  of  Bacchus,  the  god  of  wine, 
being  seized  on  his  way  from  Icaria  to  Naxos.  "  He  hired  a 
ship  which  belonged  to  Tyrrhenian[cL  49]  pirates;  but  the  men, 
instead  of  landing  at  Naxos,  steered  towards  Asia,  to  sell  him 
there  as  a  slave.  Thereupon  the  god  changed  the  mast  and  oars 
into  serpents,  and  himself  into  a  lion  ;  ivy  grew  round  the  vessel, 
and  the  sound  of  flutes  was  heard  on  every  side ;  the  sailors 
were  seized  with  madness,  leaped  into  the  sea,  and  were  meta- 
morphosed into  dolphins'''' — Smith's  Classical  Dictionary. 

After  the  mariners  transformed \  a  Latinism  [post  nautas 
mniatos)  such  as  we  get  in  phrases  like  post  condita?n  urbem 
('since  the  foundation  of  the  city'),  where  the  participle,  as  it 
were,  does  the  duty  of  a  noun  followed  by  a  genitive  case. 
Milton  uses  this  idiom  with  '  after '  and  '  since ' ;  cf  Par.  Lost, 
I.  573,  "since  created  Man,"  i.e.  since  the  creation  of. 

49.  the  Tyrrhene  shore,  the  coast  of  Etruria  which,  roughly 
speaking,  was  the  same  region  as  the  modern  Tuscany  (cf 
"Tuscan"  in  48).     listed,  pleased;    see  G. 

50.  Circe ;  a  famous  sorceress,  described  by  Homer  in 
Odyssey,  x.,  who  dwelt  on  the  island  of  Aea,  off  the  western 
coast  of  Italy ;  daughter  of  the  Sun-god  and  Perse,  one  of  the 
daughters  of  the  Ocean.  On  his  wanderings  after  the  Trojan 
war  Odysseus  visited  her  with  his  companions,  some  of  whom 
she  changed  by  her  magic  draughts  into  animals.  By  the  help 
of  the  god  Hermes  (see  636,  637)  Odysseus  was  able  to  resist 


6o  COMUS. 

her  enchantments  and  make  her  change  his  companions  back 
again  into  men.  Homer's  description  has  this  pecuUar  interest 
in  the  history  of  literature,  that  it  became  the  model  of  all  the 
accounts  of  fair  enchantresses  dwelling  in  palaces  which  we  get 
in  Tasso  and  Spenser  and  other  writers  of  romance. 

"The  bringing  of  Bacchus  to  Circe's  Island  is  Milton's  own 
invention,  with  a  view  to  the  parentage  he  had  resolved  on  for 
Comus" — Masson.  The  fact  is  that  Milton  sometimes  jnakes 
his  own  mythology. 

fell,  chanced,  came  upon,  in  his  voyage. 

Who  knows  not  Circe  ?  The  repetition  of  a  name  or  word  in 
the  form  of  a  question  was  a  favourite  artifice,  especially  with 
Spenser.     Cf.   The  Shepheards  Calender,  August : 

"  A  doolefull  verse 
Of  Rosalend  (who  knows  not  Rosalend?)." 

It  is  one  of  the  imitations  of  archaic  manner  in  Matthew 
Arnold's  Thyrsis ;  cf.  "I  know  these  slopes ;  who  knows  them 
if  not  I?" 

52,  53.  There  seems  to  be  the  underlying  thought  that 
physical  uprightness  symbolises  moral.  The  poet  was  himself 
a  very  graceful  man.  Aubrey  tells  us,  "  his  harmonical  and 
ingenious  soul  dwelt  in  a  beautiful  and  well  proportioned  body." 

54.  This  nymph ^  i.e.  Circe. 

55.  The  representations  of  Bacchus  in  art  differ  widely,  but 
the  youthful  god  described  here  is  a  recognised  type ;  cf.  Dryden's 
poem  Alexander'' s  Feast.  It  was  probably  the  traditional  associa- 
tion of  ivy  with  the  wine-god  that  led  to  the  custom  of  affixing 
an  ivy-bush  at  the  doors  of  taverns :  whence  the  proverb  "good 
wine  needs  no  bush";  cf.  As  You  Like  J/,  Epilogiie,  4.  6. 

56.  parted;  cf.  French /ar///*,  to  depart. 

57.  Comus  typifies  sensuality,  as  his  name  implies,  and 
magical  power.  In  the  scene  with  the  Lady  (659 — 813)  he  re- 
presents sensual  pleasure.  To  the  Attendant  Spirit  he  appears 
rather  as  "a  sorcerer"  (521),  "  that  damned  wizard  "  (571),  "the 
foul  enchanter"  (645).  Cf.  "but  [like]  his  mother  more.'"  He 
owes  the  one  character  to  his  father  the  wine-god ;  the  other  to 
his  mother  the  sorceress,  skilled  in  magic  drugs  {TroXvcpapfiaKos, 
as  Homer  calls  her,  Odyssey,  X.  -276).  The  parentage,  as  we  saw, 
is  Milton's  own  invention;  nothing  could  be  more  appropriate. 

59.    frolic.     Q,itxm^w  frbhlicJi,  'gay.' 


NOTES.  6 1 

60.  i.e.  France  and  Spain.     Cf.  Par.  Lost,  I,  520,  521  : 
"  Fled  over  Adria  to  the  Hesperian  fields, 

And  o'er  the  Celtic  roamed  the  utmost  isles." 
Iberia  ;  a  classical  name  for  Spain. 

61.  this;  pointing  to  the  scenery  representing  a  wood. 
ominous ;  not  so  much  '  threatening,'  as  '  full  of  portents  or 
magical  appearances.'  The  wood  is  peopled  with  "calling 
shapes,  and  beckoning  shadows  dire,"  207.  Ominous  is  a  dis- 
syllable =  ominous. 

65.     orient,  bright,  lustrous  (as  described  in  673) ;  see  G. 

6(i.     the  drouth  of,  the  thirst  caused  by  the  sun. 

67.  fond,  foolish ;  see  G.  The  epithet  is  transferred  to 
the  thirst  from  the  thirsty  man  who  indulges  it  foolishly. 

69.  An  echo  of  Genesis  i.  27  :  "  So  God  created  man  in  his 
own  image,  in  the  image  of  God  created  he  him  " ;  and  Hebrews 
i.  3,  "  the  express  image  of  his  person."     express,  exact. 

71.  ounce.  Also  written  once ;  it  is  a  kind  of  lynx— ^//j 
uncia.     Perhaps  from  Persian  jj/z/s  (nasalised),  a  panther,  lynx. 

72.  A  departure  from  Homer's  account,  which  represents 
Circe's  victims  as  changed  entirely  into  beasts.  Newton  notes 
that  this  partial  metamorphosis  suited  better  the  purposes  of  the 
stage.  Each  character  would  wear  a  mask  representing  some 
animal's  head,  as  does  Bottom  in  A  Midsuin?ner- Night' s  Dream. 
Cf.  the  stage-direction  that  follows — "headed  like  sundry  sorts 
of  wild  beasts,  but  otherwise  like  men  and  women." 

73.  perfect,  complete;  from  completeness  comes  the  idea 
'  excellence.'     French  parfait. 

74.  Milton  has  not  followed  Homer  strictly;  cf.  Odyssey,  x. 
237  et  seq. :  "  Now  when  Circe  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 
»iind  abode  even  as  of  old.  Thus  were  they  penned  there 
weeping" — Butcher  and  Lang's  translation  (as  in  the  next  note). 
Perhaps  Homer's  account  gives  greater  pathos:  Circe's  victims 
are  conscious  of  the  contrast  between  their  present  and  past ; 
and  pathos  is  largely  a  matter  of  self-appreciated  contrast. 
Milton's  account  emphasizes  the  completeness  of  the  power  of 
Comus,  i.e.  the  deadliness  of  the  pleasure  he  has  to  ofter. 

76.     Cf.   Odyssey,  X.  235,  236:   "and  Circe  mixed  harmful 


62  COMUS. 

drugs  with  the  food  to  make  them  [her  victims]  utterly  forget 
their  own  country."     The  lotus-flower  possessed  this  peculiar 
power,  and   Milton,  no  doubt,  has  in  mind  the  description  of 
the  'lotus-eaters'  (Lotophagi)  who  dwelt  on  an  island  off  the 
Mediterranean   coast   of  Africa,   and   offered   the   lotus   to   all 
strangers:   and  "whosoever  of  them  did  eat  the  honey-sweet 
fruit  of  the  lotus,  had  no  more  wish  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" — Odyssey ^  IX.  94 — 97. 
See  Tennyson's  poem  The  Lotos-Eaters^  in  which  the  rhythm 
and  alliteration  and  verbal  effects  convey  an  exquisite  sense  of 
listless  languid  bliss.     And  turn  to  the  witty  'perversion'  of  the 
present  passage  in  the  Dunciad,  IV,  where  Pope  makes  the  high- 
priest  of  Dullness  offer  to  her  victims  *'the  cup  which  causes  a 
total  oblivion   of  all   obligations,"  so  that    (for   example)    the 
man  who  has  won  Court-favour  quite  ignores  his  past : 
"a  wizard  old  his  cup  extends. 
Which  whoso  tastes  forgets  his  former  friends, 
Sire,  ancestors,  himself." 

79.  adventurous;  where  you  are  likely  to  meet  with  adven- 
tures; 'dangerous'. 

80.  The  simile  is  repeated  in  Par.  Lost,  i.  745,  746.  There, 
as  here,  the  rhythm  of  the  verses  suggests  the  motion  described. 

81.  convoy,  escort.  Low  Lat.  conviare,  to  bring  on  the 
way  (Lat.  via).     The  same  word  as  convey. 

83.  i.e.  robes  dyed  in  the  tints  of  the  rainbow;  Iris  being 
the  goddess  of  the  rainbow  and  "many-colour'd  messenger"  of 
Juno,  Tempest,  iv.  76.     See  Far.  Lost,  xi.  244. 

85.  Alluding  to  Lawes's  connection,  as  music-master,  with 
the  family  of  the  Earl  of  Bridgewater.     So  in  493. 

86 — 88.  The  compliment  to  Lawes  is  repeated  at  494 — 496. 
Milton  chooses  his  epithets,  "soft,"  "  smooth-ditticd,"  with 
careful  reference  to  the  qualities  of  Lawes's  music.     See  p.  48. 

87.  ICnoivs  to.  For  the  construction  (where  we  should 
insert  ko^v)  cf.  Lye.  10,  11.  The  idiom  is  an  obvious  classicism, 
on  the  model  of  the  infinitive  after  words  like  iwicTTa/xai,  calico. 

87,  88.  Note  Milton's  favourite  form  of  alliteration,  w...iv, 
corresponding  to  the  alliterative  use  of  v  in  Latin  poetry.  Cf. 
Lye.  13,  and  compounds  like  'wide- wasting'  {Par.  Lost,  vi.  253), 
'wide-waving'  {Par.  Lost,  xi.  121),  'wide-watered'  (//  Pen.  75). 


NOTES.  6S 

88.  nor  of  less  faith ^  i.e.  **not  less  trustworthy  than  he  is 
skilled  in  music" — Masson. 

90.  Likeliest^  most  fitting;  so  in  1  Henry  IV.  in.  1.  273: 
"They  are  your  likeliest  men,  and  I  would  have  you  served 
with  the  best."  Not  far  removed  from  ///(r/j/  =  pleasing;  as 
we  say,   *a  likely  lad.' 

91.  92.  i.e.  nearest  at  hand  to  lend  the  help  that  this  occa- 
sion requires. 

92.  Viewless  1  invisible.  Cf.  The  Passion,  50.  Milton 
remembered  Claudio's  "viewless  winds,"  Measure  for  Measure, 
III.  I.  124.  The  termination  less  is  now  active,  and  viewless  in 
modern  E.  would  mean  'having  no  view.'  But  in  the  English 
of  Shakespeare  and  Milton  the  force  of  adjectival  and  participial 
endings  is  not  stereotyped. 

The  Attendant  Spirit  moves  from  the  stage,  and  Comus 
appears  with  his  followers.  Strictly  this  was  the  Anti-masque, 
or  comic  interlude,  and  probably  would  have  been  treated  as 
such  at  greater  length  by  Ben  Jonson. 

Stage-direction.  The  stage-direction  in  the  Cambridge  MS. 
omits  several  points  here  introduced  :  e.g.  there  is  no  mention  of 
torches,  which  would  add  greatly  to  the  effectiveness  of  the  scene, 
nor  have  the  characters  "glistering"  apparel.  When  Milton  wrote 
Comus  he  thought  chiefly  of  the  poetry  and  the  moral  which  it 
enforced;  mere  scenic  details  could  be  left  to  Lawes,  who  had 
been  so  busy  earlier  in  the  year  over  the  production  of  Shirley's 
Triumph  of  Peace  and  Carew's  Civhim  BritannicJim. 

Comus  would  wear  a  fantastic  dress  to  remind  the  audience 
of  his  supernatural  powers;  cf.  the  allusion  in  line  157  to  his 
"quaint  habits."  Campion  in  one  of  his  Masques  brings  "two 
enchanters"  on  the  stage — Rumour  and  Error;  the  latter  dressed 
"in  a  skin  coat  scaled  like  a  serpent,  and  an  antic  habit  painted 
with  snakes,  a  hair  of  curled  snakes,  and  a  deformed  Vizard" — 
Bullen's  Campion,  p.  216.  Symbolical  garb  of  this  kind  was 
much  employed.  Masques  dealing  so  often  with  allegory, 

his  glass ;  containing  his  magic  potion;  cf.  65.     rout,  band. 

glistering.  Referring,  probably,  to  the  cloth  of  silver  and 
tinsel  (see  877),  which  was  used  a  good  deal  on  the  stage. 

93.  The  star,  the  evening-star;  "thy  folding-star,"  says 
Collins  in  his  Ode  to  Evejiing.  Keightley  notes  that  Milton  has 
adapted  Shakespeare's  converse  description  of  the  morning-star, 


64  COM  us. 

Measure  for  Measure,  IV.  2.  218,  "Look,  the  unfolding  star 
calls  up  the  shepherd."  In  the  one  case  the  star  is  Hesperus; 
in  the  other,  Phosphorus  (*the  Light-bringer ') ;  cf.  Tennyson's 
In  Me?noria??i,  cxxi : 

"Sweet  Hesper-Phosphor,  double  name 
F'or  what  is  one,  the  first,  the  last." 
95 — 97.     Some  think  that  Milton  refers  to  the  classical  belief 
that  the  waves  of  the  Atlantic  hissed  as  the  fiery  wheels  of  the 
setting  sun's  chariot  touched  them. 

96.  allay,  steep,  cool. 

97.  steep.  Standing  on  the  'sea-shore  we  can  verify  the 
accuracy  of  steep.  Tennyson  gives  us  the  same  picture  in  The 
Progress  of  Spring,  VI.,  "The  slant  seas  leaning  on  the  man- 
grove copse."     Some  interpret  'deep,'  like  Latin  alius. 

stream;  alluding,  perhaps,  to  the  Homeric  conception  of  the 
Ocean  as  a  great  river  surrounding  the  earth. 

98.  slope,  sinking  in  the  horizon.  The  whole  picture  in  98, 
99  is  amplified  in  Par.  Lost,  iv.  539 — 543. 

loi.  The  imagery  oi Psalm  xix.  5,  "In  them  hath  he  set  a 
tabernacle  for  the  sun :  which  cometh  forth  as  a  bridegroom  out 
of  his  chamber  "  (Prayer-Book). 

105.  rosy  twine,  twined  roses.  An  allusion  to  the  classical 
custom  of  weaving  chaplets  of  flowers,  especially  roses,  at  enter- 
tainments, and  perfuming  the  hair  with  unguents. 

106.  i.e.  diffusing  fragrance  and  moist  with  wine. 

107.  Rigour.  CoiHJis  has  many  of  these  personified  abstrac- 
tions. The  use  of  them  (to  which,  perhaps,  the  allegorising 
tendency  of  the  Masque  may  have  contributed  something)  is 
a  characteristic  of  Milton's  early  style;  cf.  the  Nativity  Ode, 
V  Allegro,  II  Penseroso.  In  18th  century  poetry,  e.g.  in  Gray 
and  Collins,  this  rather  tricky  artifice  became  a  mannerism.  It 
was  an  aspect  of  the  "poetical  diction"  which  Wordsworth 
denounced  in  the  famous  preface  to  the  Lyrical  Ballads. 
Usually  the  noun  is  accompanied  by  an  adjective — e.g.  "jiure- 
eyed  Faith,"  "white-handed  Hope,"  213. 

109.     sour,  morose. 

no.  saxvs,  maxims.  The  Justice  in  As  You  Like  It,  II. 
7.  156  (the  "seven  ages  of  man"  passage)  is  "full  of  wise  saws." 
Saw,  say,  saga  (Icelandic)  are  allied  words. 

III.    fire.     Alluding  to  the  old  theoiy  that  everything  is 


NOTES.  65 

composed  of  four  elements — earth,  water,  fire  and  air :  the  two 
last  being  the  lighter  elements.  "I  am  fire  and  air,"  says 
Cleopatra  {Antotty  and  Cleopatra,  V.  2.  292),  about  to  die :  hence- 
forth she  will  be  free  of  the  substance  that  clogs  her  spirit. 

113.  Cf.  "the  spheres  of  watchful  fire, "  Vacation  Exercise,  40. 

114.  Milton  is  fond  of  likening  the  motions  of  the  heavenly 
bodies  to  a  dance;  cf.  "lead"  and  perhaps  " round "  =  round 
dance  (see  144),  though  'circle,  revolution'  would  also  suit. 
Thus  he  speaks  of  the  "  mystic  dance  "  of  the  planets,  Par.  Lost, 
V.  178  (and  see  also  620 — 624). 

the  months  and  years.  Cf.  Far.  Lost,  VII.  339 — 342  (echoing 
the  M'ords  of  Genesis  i.  14). 

115.  sounds,  straits  of  sea;  see  G. 

116.  to,  in  obedience  to, — referring  to  the  influence  of  the 
moon  on  the  tides;  or  perhaps  'to  the  accompaniment  of,'  i.e. 
under  the  light  of. 

wavering  morrice,  i.e.  an  undulating  dance;  cf.  Keats's 
Endytnion,  IV.,  where  the  four  Seasons  join  in  a  "floating 
morris."  Another  name  was  Morisco,  i.e.  Moorish  dance.  It  is 
said  to  have  been  introduced  into  England  in  the  reign  of 
Edward  III.  when  John  of  Gaunt  returned  from  Spain.  A 
morris  (the  more  usual  spelling)  formed,  and  in  some  counties 
still  forms,  part  of  the  rustic  festivities  at  Whitsuntide  and  May- 
day;  cf.  Henry  V.  ii.  4.  25,  "busied  with  a  Whitsun  morris- 
dance";  and  Alps  Well  That  Ends  Well,  ii.  2.  25,  "As  fit 
as... a  morris  for  May-day." 

117.  tawny.  He  wrote  yellow,  and  perhaps  changed  to 
avoid  too  obvious  comparison  with  Ariel's  song  "Come  unto 
these  yellow  sands,"  Tempest,  l.  2.  376.  The  nymph  in  Endy- 
mion,  II.  ruled  over  "grotto-sands  tawny  and  gold."  The  in- 
fluence of  Milton's  diction  is  very  marked  in  Keats's  poems. 

shelves,  banks  of  streams. 

118.  pert,  lively,  alert.     See  the  Glossary  iox  pert,  faery. 

121.  zoakes.  Properly  a  wtz/'<?—  "the  feast  of  the  dedication 
of  a  church,  formerly  kept  by  watching  [i.e.  keeping  azuake']  all 
night" — Schmidt:  hence  any  merry-making  kept  up  late. 

127.  dun;  cf.  "the  dun  air,"  i.e.  dusky,  of  Chaos,  Par. 
Lost,  III.  72. 

122.  Comus  celebrates  the  night  time  in  his  twofold  charac- 
ter of  magician  and  patron  of  license. 

V.  C.  tL 


66  COM  us. 

Gray's  Ode  written  for  the  installation  of  the  Duke  of  Grafton 
as  Chancellor  of  Cambridge  University  begins  rather  curiously  : 
•*  Hence  !  Avaunt !  ('tis  holy  ground) 
Comus  and  his  midnight  crew." 
128 — 130.     Cotytto,   or   Cotys,    a   Thracian   goddess.     The 
Cotyttia,   a  festival  held  in  her  honour,  took   place   at  night. 
These  licentious   rites  were  secret;  Juvenal  [Satire  ii.  91,  92) 
speaks   of  their  being  celebrated  with  "secret  torch"  {sea-eta 
tie  da). 

131.  11^67-  called  but  wheu,  i.e.  only  invoked  at  night. 
dragon.     Newton  considers  this  an  allusion  to  the  idea  that 

the  chariot  of  the  night  was  drawn  by  dragons;  cf.  Cymbeline, 
II.  2.  48,  "Swift,  swift,  you  dragons  of  the  night  !"  Dragons, 
i.e.  serpents,  were  chosen  because  of  their  proverbial  sharpness 
of  sight,  the  word  (Gk.  ^paKwv)  coming  from  a  root  'to  see.' 

132.  Stygian  darkness^  i.e.  darkness  as  of  the  nether  world. 
"Abhorred  Styx,  the  flood  of  deadly  hate"  [Par.  Lost,  ii.  577), 
one  of  the  four  rivers  of  Hades,  is  a  synonym  of  hell.  From 
Gk.  arv^uv,  '  to  hate.' 

spets ;  an  obsolete  form  of  spits.  In  TJie  Merchant  of  Venice, 
I.  3.  113,  the  Quartos  and  the  ist  Folio  have  "And  spet  upon 
my  Jewish  gaberdine,"  changed  in  modern  texts  to  spit. 

134.  cloudy,  wrapt  in  clouds.     eOon,  black  as  ebony. 

135.  Hecate;  the  goddess  of  sorcery  and  witchcraft  and 
mysterious  midnight  "rites"  {535),  as  in  Macbeth,  where  she 
is  the  patroness  of  the  Witches.  Scan  Hecat\  as  the  original 
editions  read.  The  scansion  is  very  common  ;  cf.  Byron,  Childe 
Harold,  II.  22,   "Alike  beheld  beneath  pale  Hecate's  blaze." 

13S — 141.  These  lines  are  a  little  mosaic  of  Shakespearian 
touches.  Cf  2  Henry  VI.  IV.  i.  i,  "The  gaudy,  blabbing  and 
remorseful  day";  a  passage  (written  by  Marlowe,  I  believe,  not 
.Shakespeare),  upon  which  Milton  draws  later  (552,  553).  For 
Indian  steep,  see  139  note;  for  tell-tale ci.  Lucrcce,  806,  "Make 
me  not  object  to  the  tell-tale  Day." 

139.  nice,  squeamish.  Comus  sneers  at  the  Morn  as  too 
prudish  to  approve  of  their  rites.     See  G. 

the  Indian  steep.  Cf  A  Midsnmmcr-NighC s  Dream,  11.  i. 
69,  "the  farthest  steep  of  India"  (Folio  rcatling). 

Indian,  i.e.  eastern. 

141.     descry,  reveal;  as  in  The  Faerie  Quccne,  VI.  7.  12. 


NOTES.  67 

144.  round,  a  country-dance,  the  favourite  one  being  Sel- 
lenger's  (St  Leger's)  Round.  Titania  invited  Oberon  to  join 
their  round — A  Midsummer-Nighf s  Dream,  ii,  i.  140.  For 
the  epithets  cf.  V  Allegro,  34,  "  On  the  light  fantastic  toe." 

The  Measure.  "  Measure  denoted  any  dance  remarkable  for 
its  well-defined  rhythm,  but  in  time  the  name  was  applied  to  a 
solemn  and  stately  dance  of  the  nature  of  a  Pavan  or  a  Minuet. 
The  dignified  character  of  the  dance  is  proved  by  the  use  of  the 
expression  to  'tread  a  measure';  a  phrase  of  frequent  occurrence 
in  the  works  of  the  Elizabethan  dramatists.  It  is  somewhat 
remarkable  that  no  trace  can  be  found  of  any  special  music  to 
which  Measures  were  danced;  this  circumstance  seems  to  prove 
that  there  was  no  definite  form  of  dance  tune  for  them,  but  that 
any  stately  and  rhythmical  air  was  used  for  the  purpose  " — Grove's 
Dictionary  of  Music.  Measure,  however,  came  to  be  applied  to 
any  sort  of  dance,  and  the  stage-direction  in  the  Cambridge  MS. 
describes  the  dance  here  intended  as  "wild  and  rude." 

145.  Break  off,  i.e.  cease  dancing.  This  is  the  "stop  of 
sudden  silence"  mentioned  in  552. 

147.     shrouds,  places  of  shelter;  see  G. 
151.     trains,  allurements;  see  G. 

i5'2>  153-  Cf.  the  notes  on  50  and  74.  The  Cambridge  MS. 
adds  the  direction  They  all  scatter. 

154.  dazzling.  The  Cambridge  MS.  has  poxvdered ;  cf. 
"magic  dust,"  165.  No  doubt  as  the  actor  spoke  these  lines, 
153 — 156  (cf.  "Thus"),  he  scattered  some  powder  in  the  air.  A 
coloured  light  too  may  have  been  burnt  behind  the  scene  to 
heighten  the  effect — Masson. 

spongy,  because  it  seems,  like  a  sponge,  to  drink  in  and 
retain  the  spells;  cf.  Troilus  and  Cressida,  ii.  1.  12,  "More 
spongy  to  suck  in  the  sense  of  fear." 

155.  blear,  deceptive.  To  blear  the  eyes  is  to  blur,  i.e 
make  them  dim.  Dimness  led  easily  to  the  notion  of  de 
ceiving. 

156.  presentments.  Cf.  Hamlet's  "counterfeit  presentment,' 
where  'representation,'  'picture'  is  the  sense  required,  ill.  4.  54 

157.  quaint  habits,  i.e.  his  fanciful  magician's  dress 
Milton  has  to  explain  why  Comus  at  his  next  entry  (244) 
appears  as  a  "gentle  shepherd"  (271). 

160.     ends,  purposes,  intentions. 


68  COMUS. 

i6i.    glozing,  flattering;  with  the  idea  of  falsehood.     See  G. 

^di.  not  uiiplausible,  i.e.  very  specious  ;  an  instance  of  the 
figure  of  speech  called  meiosis  (Gk.  fxelwais,  'diminution'),  by 
which  you  express  in  very  moderate  language  something  which 
you  really  wish  to  emphasise,  e.g.,  'it  is  no  small  pleasure 
to'  =  it  is  a  very  great  pleasure  to.  Another  name  for  this 
figure  of  rhetoric  is  litotes  ('simplicity,'  from  the  Greek). 

163.  IVinil  me,  i.e.  obtain  his  confidence.  Needlessly 
changed  in  some  editions  to  loin.  Shakespeare  has  wiud  with 
the  sense  'to  get  an  unfair  advantage  over';  e.g.  in  King  Lear., 
I.  2.   106,  "seek  him  out :  wind  me  into  him,  I  pray  you." 

the  easy-hearted  vian,  unsuspicious  people. 

165.     virtue,  peculiar  power;  cf.  virtuous,  621 ;  see  G. 

167.  gear,  business.  Properly  ^m/'=' apparatus,'  'tackle,' 
as  in  compounds,  travelling  or  fishing  gear,  etc.  In  Elizabe- 
than English  it  usually  has  the  wider  meaning  of  'affair,'  'matter 
in  hand.'  Cf.  Romeo  andyuliet,  ii.  4.  107,  "  Here's  goodly  gear," 
i.e.  as  we  might  say  colloquially,  *a  pretty  business.' 

166 — 169.  The  edition  of  1673  differs  from  that  of  1645, 
by  omitting  167,  transposing  168,  169,  and  giving  hear  for  here 
in  169.  Most  editors  keep  to  the  text  of  the  earlier  edition, 
except  that  they  substitute  hear  for  here.  Some,  however,  follow 
the  1645  ^^-  ^^  printing  "And  hearken,  if  I  may,  her  business 
here,"  and  take  hearken  transitively. 

168.  fairly,  softly;  cf.  "Soft  and  fair,  friar,"  Much  Ado 
About  Nothing,  v.  4.  72.     Comus  steps  back  into  the  wood. 

172.     ill-managed,  disorderly. 

173 — 177.  Milton  is  thinking  of  a  shearing  feast  and  harvest- 
home,  such  as  Herrick  describes  in  the  Hesperides  (a  work  from 
which  we  learn  much  about  the  rural  life  of  Milton's  generation). 
See  again  848,  Lye.  117,  and  L^  Allegro,  91 — 114. 

174.  hinds,  peasants  ;  see  G. 

175.  granges,  barns,  granaries;  from  Lat.  grauuvi,  corn. 
Now  a  })oetic  word  in  this  sense  ;  cf.  Tennyson's  Demeter,  "  l\e- 
joicing  in  the  harvest  and  the  grange." 

177.  amiss,  i.e.  in  a  wrong  way. 

178.  swilled,  drunken  ;  a  coarse  word,  apiilicablc  to  animals 
but  suiting  the  context  here.  Cf.  the  description  in  Par.  Lost,  i. 
502,  of  revellers  "  flown  with  insolence  and  wine,"  i.e.  flushed 
with. 


NOTES.  69 

1 79.  wassailers  ;  see  G. 

180.  inforfu^  find  guidance  for.    Cf.  Samson  Agonistes,  335. 

181.  blind,  obscure  ;  as  in  '  blind  alley.' 

183.  to  lodge,  to  pass  the  night. 

184.  the  sp7-eading favour,  the  kindly  shelter. 

188.  then  when;  a  favourite  emphatic  phrase  with  Milton; 
cf.  Par.  Lost,  iv.  970,  "Then,  when  I  am  thy  captive,  talk  of 
chains." 

gray-hooded  Even ;  hence  Keats's  line  in  Endymion,  i. : 
"  She  sings  but  to  her  love,  nor  e'er  conceives 
How  tiptoe  Night  holds  back  her  dark-giay  hood." 

189.  sad,  sober,  serious,  without  any  notion  of  sorrow;  cf, 
sadly  in  line  509,  and  see  G. 

votarist.  Used  of  anyone  who  had  taken  a  vow  {votiim)  \ 
here  a  vow  of  pilgrimage.  Cf.  Thnon  of  Athens,  iv.  3.  27,  "I 
am  no  idle  votarist." 

A  palmer -^2^%  "one  who  bore  a  palm-branch  in  memory  of 
having  been  to  the  Holy  Land  " — Skeat. 

The  comparison  between  "the  ^ray-hooded  Even"  and  a 
palmer  may  be  illustrated  by  one  of  Greene's  lyrics  describing 
Love  dressed  as  a  pilgrim  : 

"  Down  the  valley  gan  he  track, 
Bag  and  bottle  at  his  back, 
In  a  surcoat  all  of  gray  ; 
Such  wear  palmers  on  the  way, 
When  with  scrip  and  staff  they  see 
Jesus'  grave  on  Calvary." 
So  Collins  in  his  Ode,  "How  sleep  the  brave,"  stanza  2: 
"  There  Honour  comes,  a  pilgrim  gray, 
To  bless  the  turf  that  wraps  their  clay." 

190.  i.e.  they  left  her  just  as  the  sun  was  sinking. 
193.     engaged,  ventured,  committed. 
195 — 225.     From  "  else  O  thievish  Night"  down  to  "  tufted 

grove"  (225)  is  omitted  in  the  Bridgewater  MS.,  i.e.  was  not 
acted  ;  perhaps  to  lighten  the  part  of  the  young  lady  ;  perhaps 
from  motives  of  delicacy — Masson. 

195 — 200.  This  piece  of  imagery  has  been  very  generally 
censured  as  far-fetched  and  unnatural.  The  fact  is  that  Milton's 
early  poems  do  show  just  a  trace  of  the  fault  which  mars  the 
works  of  those  fantastic  contemporary  wxiters,  such  as  Donne  and 


70  COM  us. 

Crashaw,  whom  Johnson  calls  the  '  metaphysical '  poets  {Life  of 
Cowley).  One  of  the  'notes'  of  this  school  of  writers  was  the 
use  of  fantastic  imagery,  far-fetched  metaphors.  Cf.  the  Nativity 
Ode,  229 — 231  : 

"So  when  the  sun  in  bed, 

Curtained  with  cloudy  red, 
Pillows  his  chin  upon  an  orient  wave." 
The  image  there  is  a  mere  'conceit,'  which  barely  escapes 
the  grotesque. 

198.  their  lamps;  a  much  used  comparison;  cf.  Shelley's 
line,  "The  lamps  of  Heaven  flash  with  a  softer  light,"  Adonais, 
XIX.  Shakespeare  quaintly  compared  the  stars  to  candles  in 
Romeo  and  Juliet,  III.  5.  9 — "Night's  candles  are  burnt  out"; 
and  Macbeth,  11.  i.  5. 

203.  perfect  in,  perfectly  clear  to. 

204.  single,  total. 

205.  what  mightl  what  could  this  be?  The  original  sense 
of  may  was  '  can,'  *  be  able.' 

207 — 209.  Milton  was  drawing  upon  popular  superstition. 
Perhaps  some  of  his  audience  believed  in  these  "calling  shapes" 
and  "  airy  tongues  "  of  which  medieval  romance  is  full.  Editors 
cite  many  illustrations,  e.g.  the  "strange  shapes"  and  "sounds 
and  sweet  airs"  and  "voices"  of  The  Tempest,  III.  2.  144 — 
149,  3.  18—39. 

207.  beckoning  shadaivs  dire.  The  order  of  the  W(.)uls— a 
noun  placed  between  two  qualifying  words — is  a  favourite  with 
Milton.  The  idiom  is  Greek ;  in  his  note  on  Lycidas,  6 
Mr  Jerram  quotes  Euripides,  Phcenisscc,  234,  vi(p6^o\oi'  opos  lp6v 
('  snowclad  mount  divine,'  viz.  Parnassus).  Gray  probably 
borrowed  the  device  from  Milton  ;  cf.  his  Eleg}',  53,  "Full  many 
a  gem  of  purest  ray  serene."  Cf.  also  Tennyson's  early  poems, 
in  which  the  influence  of  Milton  is  very  noticeable;  e.g.  The 
Lotos-Eaters,  Vli.,  "With  half-dropt  eyelid  still,"  and  IVie 
Palace  of  Art,  "  In  diverse  raiment  strange." 

beckoning.     Like  the  ghost  in  I/a »i let,  I.  4.  58. 

208.  airy  tongues.     Cf.  Etidymion,  IV. : 

"No,  never  more 
Shall  airy  voices  cheat  me  to  the  shore." 
Probably  due  to  Comiis.     syllable,  i.e.  pronounce  clearly. 
212.     siding,  going  by  the  side;  hence  '  defending.* 


NOTES.  yi 

214.  gi7't  with  golden  juings.  Possibly  a  reminiscence  of 
Psalm  Ixviii,  13  :  "yet  shall  ye  be  as  the  wings  of  a  dove  covered 
w^ith  silver,  and  her  feathers  with  yellow  gold." 

215.  unblemished.^  that  may  not  be  blemished  ;  see  349,  note. 
Chastity.       A     departure    from     the     ordinary    Trinity    of 

Faith,  Hope  and  Charity  (to  keep  the  Authorised  Version  of 
6.'^a-K-r\).  Conius  is  an  enforcement  of  the  doctrine  intensely 
sacred  in  Milton's  eye — the  doctrine  of  purity;  and  it  is  worth 
noting  that  the  substantive  chastity  occurs  seven  times  in  the 
poem;   the  adjective  chaste  four  times. 

216.  ye ;  the  original  distinction  between  ye  (nominative) 
2sAyou  (objective)  was  often  ignored  by  Elizabethan  writers ;  we 
see  it  in  John  xv.  16,  "Ye  have  not  chosen  me,  but  I  have 
chosen  you." 

217.  Supreme.  Scan  stlpreme;  see  note  on  273.  The 
sense  in  217 — 219  is  :  'he  who  uses  all  evil  powers  as  agents  to 
execute  his  displeasure  against  wicked  men  would  send...' 

221.  Was  I  deceived!  A  moment  before  she  had  expressed 
the  belief  that  Providence  would,  if  necessary,  interpose  to 
protect  her.  The  rift  in  the  clouds  seems  an  omen  :  the  moon- 
light is  like  a  "glistering  guardian." 

223.  224.  Milton  employs  sparingly,  but  with  fine  effect, 
the  artifice  of  verbal  repetition.     Cf.  Par.  Lost,  vii.  25,  26: 

"though  fallen  on  evil  days, 
On  evil  days  though  fallen,  and  evil  tongues." 
No   modern   poet   uses   this   device    more    beautifully   than 
Tennyson.     Cf.  in  Enoch  Arden  the  latter  part  of  the   great 
passage  that  begins  "  The  mountain  wooded  to  the  peak." 

224.  Cf.  the  proverb  "no  cloud  without  a  silver  lining." 

225.  casts.     We  should  expect  cast  after  does  in  223. 

228.     neiu- enlivened,  i.e.  by  the  favourable  sign  in  the  sky. 

230.  Invocations  of  Echo,  whose  reply  would  be  counter- 
feited behind  the  scenery,  were  not  uncommon  in  Masques.  It 
was  a  pretty,  fanciful  device  appropriate  to  the  fanciful  character 
of  the  ordinary  Masque.  Also,  it  gave  an  opportunity  for  the 
introduction  of  Music  (ever  a  great  feature  of  Masque-perfor- 
mances). 

Echo,  a  mountain-nymph  (Oread,  from  opos,  a  mountain) 
who  was  changed  by  Juno  into  an  Echo — "that  is,  a  being  with 
no  control  over  its  tongue,  which  is  neither  able  to  speak  before 


^2  COM  us. 

anybody  else  has  spoken,  nor  to  be  silent  when  somebody  else 
has  spoken.  Echo  in  this  state  fell  desperately  in  love  with 
Narcissus ;  but  as  her  love  was  not  returned,  she  pined  away  in 
grief,  so  that  in  the  end  there  remained  of  her  nothing  but  her 
voice  " — Classical  Dictionary. 

231.  airy  shell;  some  interpret  'the  vault  of  Heaven '  = 
"sphere,"  241;  others  'a  shell  with  air  in  it,'  lying  by  the 
river's  side  (232). 

232.  There  is  said  to  be  no  classical  authority  for  this 
association  of  Echo  and  Meander,  though  we  meet  with  it  in 
Gray's  Progress  of  Poesy  ^  69 — 72,  a  reminiscence  perhaps  of  the 
present  passage.  It  has  been  sutjgested,  however,  that  the 
mention  of  the  Meander  in  poetry  is  due  to  the  fact  that  it  was  a 
special  resort  of  the  swan,  which,  like  the  nightingale,  is  one  of 
the  favourite  birds  of  poets ;  cf.  the  legend  of  the  '  swan's  song.' 
Meander  is  the  modern  Mendereh,  rising  in  Phrygia.  The 
circuitous  course  of  the  river  has  given  us  the  word  meaiid<:r. 

241.  Parity,  conversation,  dialogue  ;  since  an  echo  seems  to 
keep  up  a  dialogue  with  the  voice. 

Daughter  of  the  sphere.  Cf.  the  epithet  'sphere-born'  applied 
to  the  "harmonious  sisters.  Voice  and  Verse,"  At  a  Solemn 
Music,  2,  There  is  perhaps  an  allusion  to  the  notion  of  "the 
music  of  the  spheres,"  which  is  referred  to  in  102 1  ;  see  note 
there. 

242.  translated,  raised  aloft. 

243.  i.e.  re-echo  the  music  of  heaven.  Note  that  the  verse 
is  an  Alexandrine  (six  feet),  the  only  one  in  the  poem.  Milton 
was  fond  of  the  metre;  see  the  Nativity  Ode,  or  Death  of  a  Fair 
Infant.  An  Alexandrine  rounds  off  effectively  the  close  of  a 
stanza;  cf.  the  Odes  of  Gray  and  Collins.  The  abuse  of  the 
artifice  excited  Pope's  ridicule.  Essay  on  Criticism,  356,  357  : 
"A  needless  Alexandrine  ends  the  song, 

That,  like  a  wounded  snake,  drags  its  slow  length  along." 

244.  In  the  Cambridge  MS.  the  return  of  Comus  to  the 
scene  is  marked  by  a  stage-direction — Comus  looks  in  and  speaks. 
Probably  he  appears  at  the  side  of  the  stage,  not  revealing 
himself  to  the  Lady  till  265. 

244,  245.  The  language  of  the  couplet  is  a  little  extravagant; 
but  we  must  remember  that  it  was  inserted  out  of  compliment  to 
the  composer  and  the  Lady  Egerton  who  had  sung  the  air. 


NOTES.  73 

246 — 248.  Probably  a  reference  to  the  idea,  attributed  to 
Pythagoras,  that  the  soul  is  a  harmony.  Plato  in  the  PJuvdo 
compares  it  to  a  harmony.  Cf.  The  Merchant  of  Venice,  V.  63, 
where  Farmer  quoted  Hooker's  Ecclesiastical  Polity.^  Bk.  v. 
"Touching  musical  harmony... so  pleasing  effects  it  hath  in  that 
very  part  of  man  which  is  most  divine,  that  some  have  been 
thereby  induced  to  think,  that  the  soul  itself  by  nature  is  or  hath 
in  it  harmony." 

247.  moves  the  vocal  air,  fills  the  air  till  it  becomes  vocal  (a 
proleptic  use  of  the  epithet). 

248.  To,  so  as  to.     hisy  its ;  see  G. 

249.  250.  "  Even  silence  herself  was  content  to  convey  her 
mortal  enemy,  sound,  on  her  wings,  so  greatly  was  she  charmed 
with  its  hamiony  " —  Warburton. 

251,  252.  These  lines  exemplify  Milton's  faculty  for  suggest- 
ing by  means  of  metaphor — the  quality  in  which  Coleridge  among 
modern  poets  is  eminent.  We  are  to  conceive  of  darkness  as 
being  a  dusky  bird  whose  ruffled  wings  cover  the  earth — imagery 
which  is  illustrated  by  V Allegro,  6,  where  "brooding  Darkness 
spreads  his  jealous  wings."  And  on  this  bird  of  night  falls  the 
spell  of  harmony,  just  as  in  the  first  Pythian  Ode  of  Pindar  the 
eagle  of  Zeus  was  charmed  to  rest  by  music  ;  cf.  Gray,  The 
Progress  of  Poesy,  I.  2  : 

"Perching  on  the  sceptred  hand 
Of  Jove,  thy  magic  lulls  the  feather'd  king 
With  ruffled  plumes,  and  flagging  wing : 
Quench'd  in  dark  clouds  of  slumber  lie 
The  terror  of  his  beak,  and  light'ning  of  his  eye." 
The  raven  is  chosen  as  symbolising  darkness  by  its  colour. 
Mrs  Gaskell  has  a  happy  allusion  to  this  passage  :  "she  was  late 
— that  she  knew  she  would  be.     Miss  Simmonds  was  vexed  and 
cross.     That  also   she   had   anticipated — and  had  intended  to 
smooth   her   raven   down   by   extraordinary   diligence" — Mary 
Barton,  11.   p.   27. 

251.  fall,  cadence;  cf.  "That  strain  again  !  it  had  a  dying 
fall,"  Twelfth  Night,  I.  1.4.     Cf.  close  in  548. 

252.  till  it  smiled,  i.e.  Darkness. 

253.  the  Sirens;  "sea-nymphs  who  had  the  power  of 
charming  by  their  songs  all  who  heard  them... According  to 
Homer,    the   island   of  the  Sirens  was   situated   between   Aea 


74  COM  us. 

[Circe's  isle]  and  the  rock  of  Scylla  [cf.  257],  near  the  S.W. 
coast  of  Italy" — Classical  Dictionary.  Strictly  the  Sirens  (Homer 
says  there  were  two)  had  nothing  to  do  with  Circe. 

254.  In  Odyssey,  x.  350,  351,  Circe  is  waited  upon  by  four 
maidens,  "born  of  the  wells  and  of  the  woods  and  of  the  holy 
rivers,  that  flow  forward  into  the  salt  sea."  The  Naiads  were 
"the  nymphs  of  fresh  water,  whether  of  rivers,  lakes,  brooks,  or 
springs" — Classical  Dictionary:  hence  their  association  with 
wild-flowers.     Cf.  Par.  Regained^  ii.  355,  356. 

Jlozvery-kirtled ;  "dressed  with  garlands  of  flowers  for  skirts" 
— Dr  Bradshaw.     Or  perhaps,  'flower-decked.' 

255.  potent  herbs.  Cf.  yEncid,  VII.  19,  20,  where  Vergil 
speaks  of  the  victims  whom  "  the  cruel  goddess  Circe  had  trans- 
formed from  men  into  beasts  potentidtis  herbis.'''' 

256.  prisoned,  i.e.  in  the  body;  cf.  385. 

257.  lap  it  in  Elysiiun,  fill  it  with  an  intense  bliss. 
Elysiiun;  the  Paradise  of  Greek  mythology;  hence  a  synonym 

of  supreme  happiness. 

257 — 259.  Homer  makes  Odysseus  sail  some  distance 
beyond  the  island  of  the  Sirens,  and  out  of  reach  of  their  song, 
before  he  came  to  Scylla  and  Charybdis.  All  through  this 
passage  Milton  adapts  rather  than  follows  Homer's  account 
of  the  classical  figures  enumerated. 

"  Scylla  and  Charybdis,  the  names  of  two  rocks  between 
Italy  and  Sicily,  and  only  a  short  distance  from  one  another. 
In  the  one  of  these  rocks  which  was  nearest  to  Italy, 
there  was  a  cave,  in  which  dwelt  Scylla,  a  fearful  monster, 
barking  like  a  dog.  In  the  opposite  rock  dwelt  Charybdis,  who 
thrice  every  day  swallowed  down  the  waters  of  the  sea,  and 
thrice  threw  them  up  again  " — Classical  Dictionary.  There  was 
a  proverbial  line,  incidis  in  Scyllam  ciipicns  vitare  Chatybdim, '  in 
seeking  to  avoid  Charybdis  you  fall  into  Scylla,'  i.e.  escape  one 
danger  only  to  fall  into  another. 

Editors  note  that  Milton  has  in  mind  a  passage  in  Silius 
Ilalicus  (a  late  Latin  poet,  of  the  'silver  age'),  where  the  two 
monsters  are  represented  as  charmed  by  the  pipe  of  a  shepherd. 
Milton's  figure  of  Sin  in  Par.  Lost,  11.  650  ct  scq.  reflects  the 
influence  of  the  classical  accounts  of  Scylla. 

barking;  cf.  Odyssey,  XII.  85,  "  therein  dwelleth  Scylla, 
yelping  terribly  {5€(.vbv    XeXaKvIa)."     Vergil    speaks   of  a   rock 


NOTES.  75 

surrounded  by  "barking  waves"  (jnultis  ciraini  latrantibits  utidis 
— ^neid,  vii.  588). 

261.  robbed  it  of  itself,  i.e.  made  it  unconscious. 

262.  home  felt,  'keenly  felt';  /z^w^  suggesting  'to  the  full.' 
As  we  say,  '  pay  him  home,'  '  drive  it  home.' 

263.  sober;  in  contrast  to  "madness"  (261),  as  "waking" 
to  "  slumber  "  (260).  This  (says  Comus)  is  an  elevated  pleasure 
which  one  enjoys  with  all  the  faculties  keenly  awake  to  it  and 
not  soothed  into  unconsciousness. 

265.  Cf.  Ferdinand's  meeting  with  Miranda,  The  Tempest, 
I-  2.  425—427  : 

"my  prime  request, 
Which  I  do  last  pronounce,  is,  O  you  wonder  ! 
If  you  be  maid  or  no?" 

267.  268.     i.e.  unless  thou  art  the  goddess  that  dwells  here. 

268.  Sylvan.  Sylvamis,  originally  the  god  of  fields  and 
forests  (Lat.  silva,  a  wood),  was  in  later  times  identified  with 
Pan,  the  god  of  nature  in  general  (Gk.  izav,  all). 

blest  song;    referring  to  the  strains  he  has  just  heard. 

269.  Cf.  Arcades,  48,  49. 

271.     shepherd.     See  164 — 167.    ill  is  lost,  i.e.  male perditur. 

273.     boast  of  skill,  i.e.  boastful  desire  to  show  her  skill. 

extreme  shift;  scan  extreme,  an  illustration  of  the  rule  that 
in  Shakespeare  and  Milton  words  like  obsaire,  extreme,  complete, 
throw  the  accent  on  to  the  previous  syllable  when  they  are  fol- 
lowed immediately  by  an  accented  syllable,  e.g.  a  monosyllable 
like  shift.  Cf.  Lucrece,  230,  "And  extreme  fear  can  neither 
fight  nor  fly."     So  "serene  air"  (4),  "complete  steel"  (421). 

276.     her  mossy  couch,  i.e.  on  the  "margent  green"  (232). 

277 — 290.  Note  the  severely  classical  style,  ^s^w'va.  Samson 
Agonistes  (which  for  Goethe  had  "  more  of  the  antique  spirit 
than  any  other  production  of  any  other  modern  poet")  we  do  not 
find  a  piece  of  aTvxpixvQla.  (i.e.  dialogue  in  alternate  lines)  so  long 
as  the  present.  The  nearest  approach  is  the  dialogue  between 
Manoah  and  the  Messenger,  1552  et  seq.  There  are  a  few 
examples,  of  the  same  type  of  dialogue  in  Shakespeare's  earlier 
plays;  cf.  Richard  III.  IV.  4.  343 — 367,  a  play  written  under 
the  influence  of  his  great  predecessor  Marlowe.  Marlowe  was  a 
Cambridge  man,  and,  though  the  general  character  of  his  works 
is  essentially  romantic,  yet  he  shows  the  influence  of  his  academic 


y6  COM  us. 

training  by  several  features,  e.g.  the  use  of  <rTixop.v6ia  and 
numerous  classical  allusions.  Examples  of  this  kind  of  dialogue 
might  also  be  given  from  the  English  classical  tragedies  like 
Gorbodtic,  in  which  the  model  of  the  late  Latin  tragic  writer 
Seneca  is  followed.  Seneca  himself  took  the  Greek  tragedians, 
especially  Euripides,  as  his  models. 

278.  Icavy;  so  the  original  editions,  as  in  Macbeth^  v.  6.  i, 
"leavy  screens."  Vm  place  of/"  was  characteristic  of  the  southern 
dialects.  In  the  old  poem  of  The  Owl  and  the  Nightingale^ 
written  in  Dorsetshire  about  1260,  we  find  vo  for  foe,  vaii'er 
iox  fairer  etc.  (Earle).  And  the  same  pronunciation  may  still  be 
heard  any  day  in  Somersetshire ;  yj?//^f  y?^A/  is  always  (from  a 
labourer)  vallow  vield.     labyrinth;  cf.  "mazes,"  i8i. 

279.  wmr-wj-^^;-/;/^,  going  just  ahead,     usher;  see  G. 

282.  She  gave  rather  a  different  reason  in  185,  186. 

283.  side ;  cf.  the  use  of  latus  in  phrases  like  tegere  latiis 
alicui=\.o  walk  close  by  the  side  of. 

285.  prevented,  anticipated;  see  G. 

286.  hit,  guess ;  the  metaphor  of  shooting  at  a  target. 
"But  what  it  is,  hard  is  to  say, 

Harder  to  hit" — Samson  Agonistes,  1013 — 14. 

287.  i.e.  'does  the  loss  of  them  matter  much  to  you,  apart 
from  the  inconvenience  which  it  causes  you  just  now?'  The 
question  is  an  indirect  way  of  asking  who  the  two  are,  what  is 
their  connexion  with  the  lady. 

290.  Cf.  V Allegro,  29.  Hebe  (daughter  of  Zeus),  the  cup- 
bearer of  the  gods,  stands  for  the  personification  of  blooming 
youth.      Cf.  Tennyson,  The  Gardener's  Daughter : 

*'  Her  violet  eyes,  and  all  her  Hebe  bloom." 

291,  292.  A  common  and  natural  way  of  indicating  the 
time  of  sunset  (cf.  188 — 190)  in  pastoral  verse.  Cf.  Homer's 
^ovXvrdvSe,  'towards  evening,  at  eventide';  literally  'the  time  for 
unyoking  oxen' (from  /SoGs,  an  ox  +  XiJetJ',  to  loose).  We  must 
remember  that  Comus  appears  as  a  rustic. 

what  time,  at  the  time  when,  cji/o  tempore.     Cf.  Psalm  Ivi. 
3,  "What  time  I  am  afraid,  I  will  trust  in  thee."     See  Lye.  28. 
loose,  i.e.  loosed  from  the  plough  which  is  left  in  the  "furrow." 
Pope  borrowed  the  couplet  in  his  Pastorals  (ill.): 

"  While  labouring  oxen,  spent  with  toil  and  heat, 
In  their  loose  traces  from  the  field  retreat." 


NOTES.  yy 

293.     S7umkedy  weary;  see  G. 

295.  yon.  Pointing  to  some  part  of  the  scenery  in  the 
background.  In  Lye.  40,  Milton  conveys  by  a  single  epithet 
('gadding')  the  same  picture  of  the  vine's  straggling  growth. 

296.  Plucking  clusters ;  cf.  what  the  Lady  said,  186. 

297 — 301.  Milton  says  something  complimentary  about 
all  who  were  concerned  in  the  production  of  Conius ;  cf.  31, 
note. 

297.  /^r/,  bearing;  frequent  in  Shakespeare — "Assume  the 
port  of  Mars,"  Henry  V.  prologue  6. 

299.     creatures  of  the  element.     According  to  the  common 
medieval  belief,  there  were  four  kinds  of  "demons  "  or  spirits, 
who  respectively  inhabited  and  ruled  over  the  four  elements  of 
fire,  air,  water  and  earth.     Cf.  //  Fenseroso,  93,  94 : 
"those  demons  that  are  found 
In  fire,  air,  flood,   or  under  ground." 
They  were  called  Salamanders  (spirits  of  fire),  Sylphs  (of  air), 
Nymphs  (of  water),  Gnomes  (of  under  ground).     Ariel  in   The 
Tejnpest  is  primarily  a  spirit  of  air,  but  is  also  at  home  in  and  has 
power  over  the  other  three  elements. 

element^  air  and  sky.  Cf.  "the  complexion  of  the  element," 
i.e.  appearance  of  the  sky,  yulius  Casar,  i.  3.  128. 

301.  plighted,  folded;  suggesting  masses  of  clouds.  Cf. 
Collins's  Ode  to  Liberty,  103,  "yon  braided  clouds."  plighted; 
see  G.  awe-strook.  Masson  notes  that  Milton  usually  writes 
strook  rather  than  struck  both  as  preterite  and  past  part. 

303,  304.  The  sense  has  been  well  explained  as  "that  it 
would  give  Comus  extreme  happiness  to  accompany  the  Lady  on 
her  quest,  with  the  implication  that  the  quest  of  such  beings  [as 
he  has  just  described]  must  be  a  noble  one."  Heaven  carries  on 
the  idea  in  "more  than  human"  (297),  "creatures  of  the 
element"  (299). 

304.  villager;  cf.  166. 

310.  well-practised,  familiar  with  the  wood;  not  "unac- 
quainted" (180). 

311.  each. ..every;  see  19,  note,     alley,  walk,  path  ;  see  G. 

312.  Dingle.  "A  hollow  between  hills:  6.q\g.'^— Johnson. 
Dimple  and  dingle  are  what  Skeat  calls  'doublets,'  from  a 
Norwegian  word  depil=^?i  pool.'  The  idea  is  'something 
scooped  out'  so  as  to  leave  a  hollow  place. 


yS  coMus. 

313.  i'os^}'  bourn f  a  stream  with  shrubs  and  trees  on  the 
banks.     See  each  word  in  the  Glossary. 

315.  ^/rrtj)/,  who  have  gone  astray.  a/Z^wfl'awr^,  attendants  ; 
abstract  for  concrete. 

3i5>  316.  lodged,  i.e.  in  some  cottage  (cf.  320,  339,  346). 
shroud,  are  sheltering,  i.e.  in  the  open  air,  under  some  tree  or 
bank. 

317,318.  i.e.  thelark  which  has  her  roosting-placc  ("ground- 
nest,"  as  he  calls  it  in  Par.  Regained,  ii.  280)  among  grass  or 
stubble  such  as  thatched  roofs  are  made  of.  For  a  similar  vague 
use  of  thatched  cf.  The  Tempest,  iv.  63,  where  the  sense  seems 
to  be  '  thick-covered  as  with  a  thatch.' 

319,  320.     low  but  loyal,  humble  but  reliable. 

322 — 326.  The  sentiment  reminds  us  of  the  Republican 
Milton  of  the  Commonwealth  days. 

322.  The  derivation — courtesy  from  cotcrt,  325 — is  correct. 
Cf.  Greene's  Friar  Bacon  and  Friar  Btmgay,  ill.  67,  *'His 
courtesy  gentle,  smelling  of  the  court";  and  George  Herbert, 
The  Church- Porch,  "Courtesie  grows  in  court."  See  As  You 
Like  It,  III.  I.  41,  42. 

324.     tapestry,  hung  with  tapestry. 

327.     2varranted;  in  the  general  sense  'safe,  secure.' 

329.     Eye  me,  keep  your  watch  over  me.     square,  adjust. 

331.  Cf.  Dryden,  yEneid,  iii.  767,  "The  stars  were  muffled, 
and  the  moon  was  pent."  Tennyson  in  The  Priiicess  speaks 
of  "A  full  sea  glazed  with  muffled  moonlight,"  i.e.  the  light  of 
a  moon  half  hidden  by  clouds. 

332.  woufst.  The  verb  ivon,  now  limited  to  the  participle 
wont  or  wonted,  was  then  still  conjugated;  cf.  "he  wont... to 
sit,"  i.e.  used  to,  Nativity  Ode,  10.  But  as  an  inflected  verb  it 
was  commoner  in  its  original  sense  *to  dwell  in,'  i.e.  be  used  to 
a  place;  cf.  Par.  Lost,  vii.  457,  "he  wons  in  forest  wild."  Cf. 
the  cognate  Germ.  «/^//«^«  =  (i)  to  dwell,  (2)  to  be  wont. 

benison  ;  O.  F.  beneison  ;  Lat.  benedictio,  blessing. 

333.  Stoop.  Cf.  the  picture  in  //  J\nseroso,  71,  72  of  tlie 
moon  "Stooping  through  a  fleecy  cloud";  and  Endymion,  iv. : 

"The  moon  put  forth  a  little  tliamond  peak, 
Bright  signal  that  she  only  stooped  to  tie 
Her  silver  sandals." 
amber;    exactly   descriptive   of  the   fringe   of   light    round 


NOTES.  79 

the  moon   when    shining    through    a    cloud.     Cf.    Tennyson's 
Margaret^  i.: 

"  Like  the  tender  amber  round, 
Which  the  moon  about  her  spreadeth, 
Moving  thro'  a  fleecy  night." 

"  Amber"  is  the  tint  of  the  atmosphere  in  The  Lotos-Eaters, 
Choric  Song  v.,  and  of  the  sunrise  in  L'  Allegro,  6i  ("  Robed  in 
flames  and  amber  light"). 

334.  disinherit,  dispossess.  Inherit  in  Shakespeare  fre- 
quently signifies  'to  have,'  'possess,'  without  any  notion,  as 
novi^,  of  heirship. 

Chaos.  Cf.  the  description  of  the  dark  realm  of  Chaos  and 
his  consort  "ancient  Night"  in  Par.  Lost,  1 1.   959  et  seq. 

336 — 34 1 .  i.e.  if  your  influence  (the  moon's)  be  quite  eclipsed, 
then  do  thou,  Oh  gentle  taper,  from  some  quarter,  visit  us,  and 
thou  shalt  be,  etc. 

336.     influence^  power  ;  see  G. 

340.  A  beautiful  instance  of  the  sound  echoing  the  sense. 
The  alliteration  (/.  /.)  is  clearly  meant  to  suggest  the  line  of  light. 
Cf.  Matthew  Arnold's  The  Scholar- Gipsy,  "The  line  of  festal 
light  in  Christ-Church  Hall."  For  /.  /.  suggesting  length  see 
Par.  Lost,  vii.  480. 

341,  342.  A  somewhat  fanciful  way  of  saying  that  they  will 
direct  their  course  by  the  light  of  the  taper  as  a  mariner  directs  his 
course  by  means  of  the  constellations,  star  ofArcady  =  any  star  in 
the  constellation  of  the  Great  Bear  {Ursa  major).  Cynostire=- 
the  constellation  of  the  Lesser  Bear  {Ursa  minor'),  especially  the 
star  at  the  end  of  the  tail,  known  as  the  Pole-star ;  the  name 
Cynosnre  being  due  to  the  constellation's  supposed  resemblance  to 
the  shape  of  a  dog's  tail  {kvvos  ovpd).  The  story  ran  that  the 
Arcadian  nymph  Callisto,  after  being  turned  into  a  she-bear  by 
Juno,  was  changed  into  a  star,  the  Great  Bear,  by  Jupiter.  She 
was  the  daughter  of  Lycaon,  king  of  Arcadia :  whence  Milton's 
"star  of  A  ready. ^'  Areas,  the  son  of  Callisto,  was  changed  into 
the  Lesser  Bear.  Greek  sailors  steered  by  the  Great  Bear; 
the  Phoenicians  (or  Tyrians)  by  the  Lesser — hence  "  Tyrian 
Cynosure."  For  the  same  reason  the  Lesser  Bear  was  also 
called  ^oivLK-q  (the  Phoenician  star).     See  Class.  Dictionary. 

As  Cynosura  meant  literally  the  star  to  which  sailors  looked, 
Cynosure  came  to  signify  metaphorically  (i)  *a  guiding  star,' 


8o  COM  us. 

(2)  'an  object  on  which  attention  is  specially  fixed.'     For  (i) 
cf.  Sylvester's  Dii  Bartas,  Grosart's  ed.,  vol.  I.  p.  88  : 

"  To  the  bright  Lamp  which  serves  for  Cynosu)-e 
To  all  that  sail  upon  the  sea  obscure." 
This  sense,  now  obsolete,  is  required  by  the  present  verse  in 
Coinus.     For  (2)  cf.  V Allegro,  80,   "The  Cynosure  of  neigh- 
bouring eyes." 

344.  wattled  cfites,  i.e.  sheepfolds  made  with  small  hurdles. 
Matthew  Arnold  borrowed  the  phrase  in  The  Scholar-Gipsy : 
"Go,  shepherd,  and  untie  the  wattled  cotes";  and  Tennyson 
varied  it  in  the  Ode  to  Memory,  iv.: 

"  Pour  round  mine  ears  the  livelong  bleat 
Of  the  thick-fleeced  sheep  from  wattled  folds." 
^'^a///^='  hurdle  '  is  the  same  word  as  wallet  =^^  bag.' 

345.  pastoral  reed,  the  traditional  shepherd's  pipe.  See 
823. 

The  oaten  pipe  has  been  accepted  by  English  writers  as 
distinctly  symbolical  of  pastoral  music,  without,  as  Mr  Jerram 
points  out  in  his  note  on  Lye.  33,  any  direct  authority  in  the 
classics.  In  Theocritus  we  have  the  KaXafios  (i.e.  reed)  and 
Pan's  pipe,  avpiy^  ;  in  Latin  poets  calamus,  tibia  and  cicuta  (the 
stem  of  hemlock).  Probably  the  notion  of  the  "oaten  straw" 
is  to  be  traced  to  Vergil's  te^itii  avcna,  in  the  first  Eclogue,  2. 
Cf.  the  Glosse  to  the  Shepheards  Calender,  October,  "  Oaten 
reedes,  Avena."     But  avena  could  be  applied  to  any  stalk. 

stops;  the  small  holes  in  wind  instruments  like  the  flute. 
Cf.  Hamlet,  in.  2.  365-376:  "  Will  you  play  upon  this  pipe?... 
'Tis  as  easy  as  lying :  govern  these  ventages  with  your  finger  and 
thumb... these  are  the  stops.''''  Collins,  who  imitated  Milton 
very  often,  began  his  Ode  to  Evening  with  the  words  "  If  aught 
of  oaten  stop,  or  pastoral  song..." 

346.  the  lodge,  i.e.  of  the  keeper  of  the  wood. 

349.  innuvierous,  innumerable ;  L.  innumerus.  Cf.  Par. 
Lost,  VII.  455,  "  innumerous  living  creatures."  We  find  much 
the  same  shifting  use  of  adjectival  and  participial  terminations 
in  Shakespeare  ;  e.g.  unvalued  =ms:!\vi-xh\ii,  Richard  III.  i.  4. 
27;  z<«flft'(?7</,?ar=  unavoidable,  Richard  H.  \\.  i.  268;  uncxprcs- 
j/t/^  =  inexpressil)le.  As  'You  Like  It,  iii.  2.  10. 

356.  amaze iiicvt ;  a  rather  stronger  word  then  =  utter  be- 
wilderment. 


NOTES.  8l 

358.  i.e.  "the  hunger  of  savage  beasts,  or  the  lust  of  men 
as  savage  as  they  " — Netvton. 

359.  over-exquisite,  too  careful;  like  Lat.  exqtiisitus,  subtle. 

360.  cast,  i.e.  conjecture  the  nature  of;  perhaps  from  the 
metaphor  of  casting  a  nativity.     For  the  sentiment  cf.  Landor  : 

"Oh  seek  not  destined  evils  to  divine, 
Found  out  at  last  too  soon" — Gebir,  vi. 

361.  grant  they  be  so,  grant  that  they  are  real  evils,  not 
"false  alarms"  (364). 

363.  Alluding  to  the  proverb  "Do  not  meet  your  trouble 
half-way."  Cf.  Much  Ado  About  Nothing,  I.  i.  96—98:  "Good 
Signior  Leonato,  you  are  come  to  meet  your  trouble ;  the  fashion 
of  the  world  is  to  avoid  cost,  and  you  encounter  it." 

365.  self-delusion.  Scan  the  ion  as  i-m.  Cf.  413,  457.  In 
Shakespeare  and  in  Milton's  early  poems  the  termination  -ion, 
especially  with  words  ending  in  ction,  such  as  '  periection, 
^a&ction,*  ^distraction,^  is  often  treated  as  two  syllables, 
especially  at  the  end  of  a  line.  In  Middle  English  poetry  the 
termination  -ion  was  always  treated  as  two  syllables. 

366.  so  to  seek,  so  ignorant  what  to  do,  so  much  at  a  loss. 
The  phrase  implies  incapacity,  or  want  of  knowledge ;  cf.  "they 
do  daylie  practise  and  exercise  themselves  in  the  discipline  of 
warre...lest  they  should  be  to  seek  in  the  feate  of  amies" — 
Utopia,  p.  131,  Pitt  Press  ed.  We  still  say  that  a  quality  is 
'sadly  to  seek'  in  a  man,  meaning  that  he  lacks  it. 

367.  unprincipled,  unversed  in  the  principles  of.  Cf.  prin- 
cipled in  Samsoji  Agonist es,  760,  ==  instructed. 

368.  bosoms,  i.e.  the  peace  which  goodness  has  in  its  bosom. 
Cf.  bosoJH  used  as  a  verb  =  ' enclose  in  the  heart,'  'carefully 
guard,'  in  Henry  VIII.  i.  i.  112,  "bosom  up  my  counsel." 

369.  single,  mere,  light  and  noise.  The  Elder  Brother 
had  spoken  of  the  darkness,  the  Younger  of  the  silence. 

370.  i.e.  she  not  being;  the  absolute  case  with  the  pronoun 
omitted,  though  easily  supplied  from  the  context. 

371.  The  alliteration  {c.  c.  c.)  emphasises  the  idea  of  com- 
posure,    constant,  firm,  not  easily  disturbed. 

-  373 — 375.     A  reminiscence  of  The  Faerie  Queene,  i.  i.  12, 
"Vertue  gives  her  selfe  light  through  darknesse  for  to  wade." 
375.    fiat.     Cf.  "  the  level  brine  "  in  Z;/^.  98. 
Wisdom's  j-£'^=  '  Wisdom  herself  would  sound  awkward  in 

V.  c.  6 


S2  COMUS. 

modern  E.;  bul  the  usage  was  once  common;  cf.  Corio/cinus,  11. 
2.  98,   "Tarquin's  self  he  met." 

Mr  Mark  Pattison  notes  that  lines  375 — 380  possess  a 
personal  interest.  They  are  as  it  were  a  fragment  of  the  poet's 
autobiography,  descriptive  of  the  years  he  spent  at  Horton, 
1632 — 1637.  Throughout  the  poems  we  catch  glimpses  of  Milton 
the  man. 

376.  st'c'is  to,  repairs  to;  cf.  i  Kings  x.  24,  "And  all  the 
earth  sought  to  Solomon,  to  hear  his  wisdom";  and  Deutero- 
nomy xii.  5,   "unto  his  habitation  shall  ye  seek." 

378.  plumes ;  some  would  change  to  the  more  usual  word 
prune.  "A  hawk  prunes  when  she  picks  out  damaged  feathers, 
and  arranges  her  plumage  with  her  bill  " — Dyce. 

380.  all  to-ruffled,  vei-y  much  ruffled.  Milton's  editions 
have  all  to  ruffled,  i.e.  three  distinct  words,  and  there  is  much 
difference  of  opinion  as  to  the  right  reading. 

The  difficulty  lies  with  to.  It  is  the  prefix  /^-  =  asunder 
{Germ,  zer,  Lat.  dis)  which  is  compounded  with  many  Middle  E. 
verbs,  giving  the  sense  'to  pieces.'  Cf.  to-brcken,  to  break  in 
pieces  (literally  'asunder') ;  to-fallen,  to  fall  to  pieces;  to-hetuen, 
to  hew  to  pieces  etc.  Verbs  thus  compounded  were  often 
strengthened  by  the  adverb  all  preceding  them. 

Peculiar  idioms  come  gradually  to  be  misunderstood,  and 
variations  in  their  use  arise  :   so  with  this. 

(i)  Sometimes  all  and  to  and  the  verb  are  separated;  cf. 
the  original  reading  here  and  fudges  ix.  53:  "And  a  certain 
woman  cast  a  piece  of  a  millstone  upon  Abimelech's  head,  and 
all  to  brake  his  scull." 

(2)  Sometimes  all,  to  and  the  verb  are  joined  ;  cf.  Bunyan's 
Pilgrim's  Progress,  II.  48,  "she  all-to-befoolcd  me." 

(3)  Sometimes  to  is  detached  from  the  verb  but  united  by 
force  of  accent  with  the  all;  cf.  Latimer's  Sermons,  1538,  "We 
be  fallen  into  the  dirt,  and  be  all-to  dirtied,  even  up  to  the 
ears. " 

According  therefore  to  popular  usage  Milton  might  equally 
well  write  all  to  ruffled  (as  he  did) ;  all-to-rufflcd;  all-to  ruffled ; 
and  all  to-ruffled.  The  last  is  the  most  correct  (since  the  to- 
should  really  go  with  the  verb),  and  seems  the  best  change  if  we 
change  at  all  instead  of  leaving  the  idiom  as  in  Judges  ix.  53. 
Some  editors  prefer  all-to  ruffled,  but  it  is  not  what  Milton  wrote, 


NOTES.  S^ 

and  it  gives  surely  a  less  pleasing  rhythm  ;  for  reading  the  line 
alike  quickly  or  slowly  we  cannot  help  treating  it  as  a  pure 
iambic  verse  in  which  ^o  goes  closely  with  the  following,  not  the 
preceding,  word. 

To  print  all  too  ruffled  loses  the  idiom  entirely.  See  the 
Neiv  English  Dictionmy  under  all-to. 

381.  light  within  his  breast;  the  "inward  light"  of  which 
he  speaks  in  Samson  Agonistes,  162,  and  Par.  Lost,  ill.  51 — 55. 

382.  the  centre,  i.e.  of  the  earth.     Hamlet  would  find 
"Where  truth  is  hid,  though  it  were  hid  indeed 

Within  the  centre" — ii.   2.   157 — 159. 

385.  See  256  ("prisoned") ;  cf.  Samson  AgonisteSy  155,  156: 
"  Thou  art  become  (O  worst  imprisonment !) 

The  dungeon  of  thyself." 
385 — 392.     Cf.  II Fenseroso,  167 — 174,  which  paints  the  ideal 
close  of  the  studious  life,  and  Richard II.  iii.  3.  147 — 150: 
"I'll  give  my  jewels  for  a  set  of  beads. 
My  gorgeous  palace  for  a  hermitage. 
My  gay  apparel  for  an  alms-man's  gown, 
My  figured  goblets  for  a  dish  of  wood." 

386.  aff'ects,  likes,  has  affection  for. 

388.  Milton's  anticipation  of  Gray's  more  felicitous  "Far 
from  the  madding  crowd's  ignoble  strife"  [Elegy,  73). 

389.  a  seriate- house.  Milton  was  thinking  of  the  Roman 
Senate-house,  the  Curia.  Twenty  years  later  Cromwell  showed, 
April  20th,  1653,  that  the  great  English  Council- chamber  was 
not  inviolable. 

390.  hermit;  literally  one  who  dwells  in  a  "desert"  (387), 
as  did  the  hermits  of  old  ;  Gk.  epr)fjt,lTT)s,  from  ep-qixla,  a  desert. 

391.  beads,  i.e.  of  the  rosary.  Every  detail  in  the  descrip- 
tion— cell,  weeds,  grey  hairs  etc. — reproduces  the  conventional 
picture  of  hermit-life.  If  Milton  had  wiitten  Comns  after  his  return 
from  Italy,  we  might  have  thought  that  in  these  lines  he  was 
simply  repainting  in  words  some  picture  seen  in  an  Italian  palace. 

Bead  originally  meant  prayer ;  afterwards  the  perforated 
balls  used  by  Roman  Catholics  in  counting  their  prayers  were 
called  beads.  The  verb  bid=  to  pray  (distinct  from  bid=  to  com- 
mand) is  extant  in  *  bidding -^xzytr.'     Cf.  Germ,  gebet,  prayer. 

393 — 396.  Alluding  to  the  golden  apples  which  Ge  (the 
Earth)  gave  to  Hera  (Juno)  on  her  marriage  with  Zeus.     They 


84  COM  us. 

grew  in  "gardens  fair"  {981)  on  an  island  in  tlie  far  West,  and 
were  watched  by  the  nymphs  called  the  Hespcridcs  (982),  who 
were  assisted  in  their  watch  by  the  "dragon"  (395)  Ladon.  To 
slay  the  dragon  and  obtain  the  apples  was  one  of  the  labours  of 
Hercules.  See  Par.  Lost,  iii.  568  ("those  Hesperian  Gardens 
famed  of  old")  and  iv.  250.  There  is  a  hitherto  unpublished 
poem  on  the  Hesperides  by  Tennyson  in  his  Life. 

394>  395"     i'6'  would  need  dragons  to  watch  over  her  with 
eyes  that  cannot  be  enchanted,  in  order  to  save  etc. 
398.     uns2iJined,  i.e.  secret. 

401.     wink  on,  be  blind  to.     Cf.  Macbeth,  i.  4.  51,  52  : 
"Let  not  light  see  my  black  and  deep  desires; 
The  eye  wink  at  the  hand," 
i.e.  let  not  the  eye  perceive  what  the  hand  is  doing.     This  seems 
to  suit  our  text.     'Danger'  is  not  to  see  its  opportunity,  and, 
not  seeing,  is  to  let  the  maiden  pass  unmolested ;  a  thing,  argues 
the  brother,  for  which  we  cannot  hope.     But  the  personification 
of  Danger  is  strained.     Desire  would  be  simpler. 
Opportunity.     Cf.  Lucrece,  S'j6  et  seq. : 
"O  Opportunity!    thy  guilt  is  great: 
'Tis  thou  that  executest  the  traitor's  treason." 
King  John  put  the  same  truth  differently,  iv.  2.  219,  220  : 
"How  oft  the  sight  of  means  to  do  ill  deeds 
Makes  ill  deeds  done." 
404.     recks.     Cf.    I^yc.    122.      The    verb   is   not   often    im- 
personal. 

407.  unowned,  lonely. 

408.  Lnfer,  argue. 

409.  without,  beyond;  cf.  2  Corinthians  x.  13,  "things 
without  our  measure."     Cf.  the  adverb  7i7V//f'///  =  outside. 

410 — 412.  i.e.  where  the  chances  seem  equally  balanced, 
there  being  as  much  reason  for  hope  as  for  fear,  I  incline  to  hope. 

41 1,     arbitrate  the  event,  decide  the  issue  (  =  Lat.  tfcntus). 

413.  sqtiint,  i.e.  which  does  not  look  at  things  in  a  fair, 
straightforward  manner. 

418.  As  Masson  observes,  we  have  here,  up  to  475,  the 
most  continuous  exposition  that  Comus  csontains  of  its  central 
doctrine.  The  idea  is  never  absent  from  Milton's  thoughts ; 
but  in  no  other  part  of  the  poem  is  it  treated  at  such  length. 

419.  if,  even  if. 


NOTES.  85 

420 — 424.  Probably  Milton  was  thinking  of  the  description 
of  Parthenia  in  Phineas  Fletcher's  Purple  Island,  x.  27 — 32 : 

**A  warlike  maid, 
Parthenia,  all  in  steel  and  gilded  arms." 
{Parthenia  =  i\iQ  Maiden,  from  Gk.  irapdevos,  a  virgin.) 

421.  Scan  complete;   see  273,  note,  and  cf.  Hamlet,  i.   4. 

51—53: 

"What  may  this  mean, 
That  thou,  dead  corse,  again  in  cSmplete  steel 
Revisit'st  thus  the  glimpses  of  the  moon?" 

422.  a  quivered  nymph;  such  as  those  who  attended  on 
Diana  (see  441). 

423.  trace,  pass,  wander,  through ;  cf.  A  Midstaiwier-Night'' s 
Dream,  il.  i.  25,  "to  trace  the  forests  wild." 

zmharboured,  i.e.  unharbouring= 'yielding  no  shelter,'  the 
proper  sense  of  harhotir,  Cf.  Tennyson's  Geraint  and  E?iid, 
'*  O  friend,  I  seek  a  harbourage  for  the  night."     See  G. 

424.  Infamous  hills,  Cf.  "And  now  he  haunts  th'infamous 
woods  and  downs,"  Phineas  Fletcher,  Piscatorie  Eclogues,  i.  14. 
Infamous— ^oi  evil  name,'  a  Latinism ;  cf.  Horace's  infames 
scopulos.   Odes,  I.  3.  20. 

The  (Latin)  accentuation,  infamous,  occurs  in  the  Death  of 
a  Fair  Infant,  12  :  "Thereby  to  wipe  away  the  infamous  blot." 

426.  bandit e ;  "so  spelt  in  Milton's  editions,  and  probably 
rather  a  new  word  about  Milton's  time" — MassoJi.  From  Ital. 
bandito,  literally  a  man  placed  under  the  ban,  i.e.  excommunicated 
by  proclamation  of  the  Church, 

mountaineer.  An  opprobrious  term,  as  always  in  Shake- 
speare; cf.  "call'd  me  traitor,  mountaineer,"  Cymbeline,  iv.  2. 
120.  People  who  lived  in  mountain-districts  might  naturally  be 
taken  as  types  of  savage  un-civilization. 

428.  very,  utter.  In  Shakespeare  very  is  oftener  adjective 
than  adverb,  being  used,  as  here,  to  emphasise  the  noun. 

429.  shagged;  cf.  lyc.  54.  zvith  horrid  shades,  i.e.  horren- 
tibus  umbris.  Poets  in  whom  the  classical  influence  is  strong 
use  horrid  of  woods  because  the  Latin  horridus  ( =  shaggy)  is  a 
favourite  epithet  of  woodland  scenery. 

430.  nnblenched,  unfaltering:  "if  he  but  blench  I  know 
my  course,"  says  Hamlet  (ii.  2.  626).     Akin  to  blanch. 

431.  Be  it  not,  provided  that  it  be  not. 


86  COM  us. 

432.  Some  say;  a  convenient  phrase  by  which  he  can 
mention  a  popular  superstition  or  theory  without  committing 
himself  to  belief  in  it.     Cf.  Par.  Lost,  x.   575,  668,  671. 

walks.     The  regular  term  ;  see  note  on  435. 

433.  fire,  i.e.  a  false  flame  {ignis  fnlmis)  such  as  was 
supposed  to  attend  malicious  spirits  like  \Vill-o'-the-Wisp  and 
Jack-o'-the-Lanthorn,  who  loved  to  "  Mislead  the  amazed  night- 
wanderer  from  his  way"  [Par.  Lost,  ix.  640).  See  L Allegro^ 
104. 

lake  or  fen.  In  Ben  Jonson's  Masque  of  Queens  eleven 
witches  appear, 

"  From  the  lakes,  and  from  the  fens, 
From  the  rocks,  and  from  the  dens"; 
and   the  author,    who  was   very  learned   in   all   pertaining    to 
witchcraft  and  the  like,  explains  in  a  footnote  that  "these  places, 
in  their  own  nature  dire  and  dismal,  are  reckoned  up  as  the 
fittest  from  whence  such  persons  should  come." 

434.  Blue;  perhaps  'haggard-looking,'  like  ^^ blue-eyed 
hag''''  (  =  the  witch  Sycorax,  mother  of  Caliban)  in  The  Tempest, 
\.  2.  '269,  where  the  reference  is  not  to  the  colour  of  the  eyes  but 
the  dark  circles  under  them,  such  as  come  from  exhaustion  or 
weeping,     meagre,  lean,  French  maigre. 

stubborn,  because  refusing  to  be  exorcised  or  'laid.'  Cf. 
Cymbeline,  iv.  ■2.  278,  "  Ghost  unlaid  forbear  thee  ! "  It  was 
thought  that  the  only  tongue  in  which  a  spirit  could  be  addressed 
with  effect  was  Latin ;    cf  Hamlet,  i.  i.  42. 

435.  magic  chains.  Cf.  "each  fettered  ghost,"  Nativity  Ode, 
234.  curfezu  time,  usually  eight  o'clock  ;  cf.  II Penseroso,  74.  The 
"foul  fiend"  in  Lear,  ill.  4.  121,  "begins  at  curfew,  and  walks 
till  the  first  cock";  and  the  spirits  in  The  Tempest,  v.  39,  40, 
"rejoice  to  hear  the  solemn  curfew."     See  G. 

436.  goblin ;  see  G.  swart ;  cf  Lye.  138.  faery.  Rarely 
used,  as  here,  of  a  malignant  power;  cf.  The  Comedy  of  Errors, 
IV.  2.  35,  "A  fiend,  a  fairy,  pitiless  and  rough";  where,  however, 
many  editors  change  to  fury. 

of  the  mine.     It  was  an  old  superstition  that  mines  were 
inhabited  by  spirits  (i.e.  the  'demons' of  earth — see  note  on  299). 
Collins  refers  to  it  in  his  Ode  to  I'\'ar,  speaking  of  the  eve, 
"When  goblins  haunt,  from  fire  or  fen, 
Or  mine,  or  flood,  the  walks  of  men"; 


NOTES.  ^7 

and  Keats  in  Laviia :  ' '  Empty  the  haunted  air  and  gnomed 
mine,"  i.e.  mine  where  gnomes  (sprites)  dwell. 

438 — 440.  Shall  I  appeal  to  the  works  of  Greek  philo- 
sophers for  testimony  to  the  power  of  purity? 

schools^  i.e.  of  philosophy.  For  school  =2i  sect  professing  a 
special  doctrine,  cf.  Samson  Agonistes,  297,  "  For  of  such  doctrine 
never  was  there  school." 

441.  Dian,  Diana,  the  maiden  goddess  of  the  chase,  type  of 
virginity.  Cf  Ben  Jonson's  pretty  lines  "Queen  and  huntress, 
chaste  and  fair." 

443.  brinded,  striped,  streaked;  see  G. 

444.  7noimtain-pard,  a  kind  of  wild-cat,  usually  called 
cat-d' -mountain,  as  in   Tlie  Tempest,  iv.   i.  262. 

445.  bolt  of  Cupid,  i.e.  arrow;  cf.  the  famous  passage  (one 
of  the  most  exquisite  pieces  of  flattery  in  all  literature)  in 
A  Midsummer- Ni ghf s Dream,  11.  i.  155 — 168),  where  "Cupid  all 
arm'd  "  takes  his  vain  aim  at  the  "  fair  vestal "  of  the  West,  i.e. 
Queen  Elizabeth.  Cupid  was  said  to  have  two  kinds  of  darts, 
one  with  a  golden,  the  other  with  a  leaden  tip  ;  the  former  to 
cause,  the  latter  to  repel,  love. 

447 — 452.  Milton  points  the  moral;  and  we  may  here  note 
how  he  has  taken  two  old-world,  seemingly  outworn  legends  and 
has  invested  them  with  an  entirely  new  significance.  It  is  Plato's 
method.  Plato  will  often  select  some  popular  expression  and 
apply  it  in  a  novel,  metaphysical  sense  ;  or  some  popular  belief, 
and  read  into  it  a  fresh  meaning,  thereby  raising  superstition  to 
the  higher  plane  of  philosophy. 

447.  The  Gorgoneion  or  head  of  Medusa,  whom  Perseus 
had^  slain,  was  represented  on  the  cegis  or  shield  of  Athene 
(  =  Lat.  Minerva).    Cf. //zW,  v.  738 — 741:  "about  her  shoulders 

cast  she  (viz.  Athene)  the  tasselled  ?egis  terrible and  therein 

is  the  dreadful  monster's  Gorgon  head,  dreadful  and  grim, 
portent  of  oegis-bearing  Zeus." 

snaky-headed,  because  Medusa's  hair  had  been  changed  into 
serpents  by  Athene ;  whence  her  head  became  so  terrible  that  all 
who  looked  on  it  were  turned  to  stone.  There  were  three  Gorgons, 
monstrous  beings,  sisters,  of  whom  Medusa  is  most  mentioned  in 
classical  writers. 

449.  freezed.  The  weak  form  of  the  preterite  was 
not   uncommon   in   contemporary   writers.      The   strong   verbs 


88  COMUS. 

suffer    perpetually    from    the    incursions    of    the    weak    conju- 
gation. 

frcezed  her  foes ;  note  the  agreement  of  sense  and  sound,  the 
alliteration  and  sibilants  suggesting  a  petrifying  shudder  and 
horror.     For  the  scansion  cSngealed  see  again  the  note  on  273. 

451.  dashed,  put  out  of  countenance,  confounded;  cf.  Par. 
Lost,  II.  114. 

452.  blauk,  utterly  dismayed;  this  use  of  the  adj.  is  some- 
what colloquial.  For  blank  as  a  verb  =  to  make  to  turn  pale, 
literally  'white'  (F.  blanc), — in  fact,  to  blench — cf  Samson 
Agottisies,  471,  "And  with  confusion  blank  his  worshippers." 

453.  "The  language  of  mythological  allusion  now  ceases, 
and  the  speaker  passes,  in  his  own  name,  into  a  strain  of  Platonic 
philosophy  tinged  with  Christianity  " — Masson. 

454.  sincerely,  entirely.  Cf.  sincere ^'^wxq.,  without  alloy 
(L.  sincerus)  in  i  Peter  ii.  2,  "desire  the  sincere  milk  of  the 
word."     so,  i.e.  chaste. 

455.  liveried,  i.e.  in  all  their  celestial  array ;  cf.  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  six  pairs  of  wings  and  "feathered  mail"  of  the 
archangel  Raphael  in  Par.  Lost,  v.  277 — 285.     liveried;  see  G. 

lackey,  attend.  Lackeying  is  Theobald's  fine  emendation  in 
Antony  and  Cleopatra,  i.  4.  46,  where  the  Folios  read  lacking — 
"  Goes  to  and  back,  lackeying  the  varying  tide."  The  word  has 
deteriorated  somewhat. 

This  idea  of  the  Guardian  Angel  watching  over  men  is  a 
favourite  with  Milton.  See  658  and  Par.  Lost,  ii.  1033.  In 
his  theological  treatise  77/1?  Christiaii  Doctrine  he  devotes  a 
section  (ix.)  to  the  ministry  on  earth  of  angelic  beings. 

457.  dream... vision.  Cf.  Cowley's  Essays:  "I  fell  at  last 
into  this  vision ;  or  if  you  please  to  call  it  but  a  dream,  I  sliall 
not  take  it  ill,  because  the  father  of  poets  Homer  tells  us,  even 
dreams  too  are  from  God";  where  Dr  Lumby's  note  (Pitt  Press 
ed.  p.  197)  is  : 

"In  visions  a  higher  degree  of  revelation  was  supposed  to  be 
imparted  than  in  dreams.  Cf.  Select  Discourses  of  John  Smith, 
p.  184:  'The  Jews  are  wont  to  make  a  vision  superior  to  a 
dream,  as  representing  things  more  to  the  life.'" 

458.  gross,  i.e.  with  sin.     See  784,  note. 

459 — 4^3-  T^^^s  fine  conception  of  self-perfectibility,  "till 
body  up  to  spirit  work,"  is  developed  in  Par.  Lost,  V.  469 — 503; 


NOTES.  89 

see  especially  496 — 499,  where  Raphael  tells  Adam  that  if  he 
and  his  descendants  live  pure,  sinless  lives  then  perhaps 
"Your  bodies  may  at  last  turn  all  to  spirit, 
Improved  by  tract  of  time,  and  wing'd  ascend 
Ethereal,  as  we." 
459.     converse.     In  the  three  passages  in  Shakespeare  where 
r^wz'^rj-^  =' intercourse  '  occurs  the  stress  falls,  as  here,  on  the 
second  syllable — converse.     Cf.  Othello,  iii.  t.  40. 

461.  temple  of  the  mmd.  Scriptural  imagery;  cf.  John 
ii.  21,  "He  spake  of  the  temple  of  his  body." 

463 — 469.  Milton  passes  to  the  converse  of  the  previous 
idea.  As  the  body  may  by  self-discipline  become  soul,  the  soul 
by  the  self-indulgence  of  its  possessor  may  become  body. 

466.     "Thou  desirest  truth  in  the  inward  parts,"  Psalm  li.  6. 

468.  i.e.  grows  fleshly  and  brutish.  Cf.  Par.  Lost,  ix.  166, 
167,  "This  essence  to  incarnate  and  imbrute  !" 

469.  property,    essential    character,    Lat.     propriiis,    own. 
470—475.      Milton   here   adapts   a  well-known  passage   in 

Plato's  PhcedOy  81,  which  Professor  Jowett  renders  : 

"  But  the  soul  which  has  been  polluted... and  is  the  companion 
and  servant  of  the  body  always,  and  is  in  love  with  and  fascinated 

by  the  body do  you  suppose  that  such  a  soul  will  depart  pure 

and  unalloyed  ? 

That  is  impossible,  he  replied. 

She  is  engrossed  by  the  corporeal,  which  the  continual 
association  and  constant  care  of  the  body  have  made  natural  to 
her. 

Very  true. 

And  this,  my  friend,  may  be  conceived  to  be  that  heavy, 
weighty,  earthy  element  of  sight  by  which  such  a  soul  is 
depressed  and  dragged  down  again  into  the  visible  Avorld, 
because  she  is  afraid  of  the  invisible  and  of  the  world  below — 
prozvling  about  tombs  and  sepulchres,  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
which,  as  they  tell  us,  are  seen  certain  ghostly  apparitions  of 
soids  which  have  not  departed  pure,  but  are  cloyed  with  sight 
and  therefore  visible."     Dialogues  of  Plato,  vol.  I.  p.  429. 

It  was,  no  doubt,  belief  in  the  continued  association 
of  body  and  soul  after  death,  and  the  durability  of  the 
former,  that  led  to  the  yearly  offering  of  meat  and  drink,  and 
even   clothes,   at   tombs — Thucydides,   ill.   58.     Many  popular 


90  COMUS. 

superstitions  as  to  the  attachment  which  the  soul  feels  for  its 
corporeal  tenement  might  be  instanced;  e.g.  the  old  Bohemian 
idea  that  the  anima  of  a  dead  man  took  the  form  of  a  bird  and 
perched  upon  a  tree  near  to  the  spot  where  the  body  was  being 
burnt.     When  the  latter  was  consumed  the  soul  flitted  away. 

470.  gloomy  shadows  damp.  Plato's  phrase  is  i/'^xw" 
(TKioetdTJ  (pavrda/JiaTa.     For  the  word-order  cf.   -207,   note. 

471.  i.e.  irepl  ra  /xu-qixard  re  Kal  roiis  Td<povs  KvXivSov/j.^i'r), 
as  Plato  says  of  the  soul ;  see  the  words  italicised  in  extract 
above. 

473-  ^^j  properly  ^hey, ' '  gloomy  shadows  "  being  the  subject ; 
but  ?V  is  more  vivid,  drawing  the  eye  of  imagination  to  some 
particular  dim  shadow. 

474.      sensually ;  so  the  original  editions,  to  suit  the  metre. 

478.  Cf.  Biron's  description  of  love  in  Love's  Labour'' s  Lost, 

IV.  3-  342—343: 

"Subtle  as  Sphinx;  as  sweet  and  musical 
As  bright  Apollo's  lute." 
There  is  a  certain  humour  in  transferring  the  phrase  to 
philosophy.  The  editors  cite  Milton's  Tractate  of  Education 
(1644):  "I  shall  detain  you  now  no  longer  in  the  demonstration 
of  what  we  should  not  do,  but  straight  conduct  you  to  a  hill- 
side, where  I  will  point  you  out  the  right  path  of  a  virtuous  and 
noble  education ;  laborious  indeed  at  the  first  ascent,  but  else  so 
smooth,  so  green,  so  full  of  goodly  prospect,  and  melodious 
sounds  on  every  side,  that  the  harp  of  Orpheus  was  not  more 
charming." 

479.  nectared,  sweet  as  nectar,  the  drink  of  the  gods. 

480.  crude,  i.e.  undigested,  =:Lat.  crndus ;  see  L^yc.  3. 
483.     night-foundered,  overtaken  by,  or  plunged  in,  night ; 

cf.  Par.  Lost,  I.  204,  "The  pilot  of  some  small  night-foundered 
skiff." 

486.  Again,  again  I  i.e.  the  shout. 

487.  draio,  i.e.  their  swords. 

489.  Cf.  the  sentiment  of  the  king  in  2  ILcnry  VL.  ill.  2. 
233:   "Thrice  is  he  armed  that  hath  his  quarrel  just." 

habited^  dressed,     like  a  shepherd ;  cf.  84 — 91. 

490.  That  hallo.  The  Elder  Brother  called  out,  487,  and 
the  Attendant  Spirit  answered.  His  reply  is  marked  in  the 
stage-direction  of  Lawes's  edition,  1637.     In  line  490,  therefore, 


NOTES.  91 

"that"  refers  to  the  answer  given  by  Thyrsis  before  he  appears 
on  the  stage. 

491.     i.e.  they  present  their  swords. 

494.  Thyrsis.  A  traditional  shepherd  name  as  far  back 
as  Theocritus ;  of.  his  first  Idyl^  and  Vergil's  seventh  Eclogue. 
In  the  Epitaphimn  Damonis,  4,  the  pastoral  Latin  elegy  in 
which  he  laments  the  death  of  his  friend  Diodati  under  the 
guise  of  one  shepherd  mourning  for  another,  Milton  speaks  of 
himself  as  Thyrsis.  Matthew  Arnold's  Monody  ( Thyrsis)  on 
Clough  lent  the  name  new  life  and  associations. 

The  lines,  494 — 496,  are  an  intentional  compliment  to  Lawes, 
and  a  more  delicate  compliment  than  the  other  (86 — 88),  which 
was  placed  in  Lawes's  own  mouth — Newto7i. 

495 — 512.  Note  the  rhyme  and  Masson's  explanation,  viz. 
that  having  mentioned  the  word  madrigal  in  495  Milton  wished 
to  carry  on  for  a  moment  the  idea  of  pastoral  poetry  which 
madrigal  (see  G.)  suggests.  The  heroic  couplet  had  been  much 
associated  with  pastoral  verse ;  e.g.  in  a  considerable  portion  of 
The  Shepheards  Calender.  Ben  Jonson  in  the  Sad  Shepherd  gives 
us  the  same  combination  of  blank  verse,  rhymed  decasyllabic 
couplets,  and  pexiodic  lyrics. 

495.  huddling;  because  the  waters  stop  in  their  course  to 
listen,  and  thus  crowd  together ;  some,  however,  interpret 
'  hastening,  pressing  onward,'  i.e.  so  as  to  listen.  Milton  refers 
to  the  classical  stories  how  the  music  of  the  golden  lyre  of 
Orpheus  enchanted  all  nature,  "  delaying  (says  Horace,  Odes, 
I.   12.  9,   10)  even  the   swift-flowing  streams." 

501.  his  next  joy  ^  i.e.  the  Second  Brother. 

502.  toy,  trifle  ;  see  G. 

506.  tOy  compared  to;  from  the  idea  *in  relation  to.'  Cf. 
"  Hyperion  to  a  satyr,"  Hamlet^  i.  2.  140. 

the  care  it  brought,  the  anxiety  which  I  brought  on  my  errand. 

507.  Strictly  the  question  is  unnecessary.  Thyrsis  knew 
that  the  Lady  was  in  the  power  of  Comus ;  cf.  571 — 578.  But 
the  enquiry  leads  up  to  the  explanation  that  follows. 

508.  How  chance 'i  The  verb-construction  'how  does  it 
chance  that?'  is  influenced  by  the  noun-phrase  'by  what  chance?' 
Cf.  "How  chance  the  roses  there  do  fade  so  fast?" — A  Mid- 
summer-Night''s  Dream,  i.  i.  129.  See  Abbott's  Shakespearian 
Gratnmar,  p.  40. 


92  COMUS. 

509.  sadly^  seriously;  cf.  Romeo  and  Jtiliet,  i.  i.  207,  "But 
sadly  tell  me  who."     See  sad  in  the  Glossary. 

without  blame;  i.e.  without  any  fault  of  ours. 

511,  512.  Observe  the  rhyme,  true  and  shew^  proving  that 
the  pronunciation  of  the  latter  has  entirely  changed.  Cf.  994 — 
997,  and  Sonnet  il.,  where  j'<7z////  and  sheiv'th  rhyme. 

513.    fabulous,  mere  matter  of  fable,  legend  [Lo-t  fabula). 

515.  the  sage  poets;  meaning  Homer  and  Vergil;  Tasso 
(familiar  to  Elizabethans  in  the  fine  translation  of  Fairfax)  and 
Ariosto;  and  Spenser — especially  Spenser,  who  influenced  Milton 
greatly.  Cf.  the  publisher's  preface  to  the  1645  ed.  of  Milton's 
poems:  "I  shall  deserve  of  the  age  by  bringing  into  the  light 
as  true  a  birth  as  the  Muses  have  brought  forth  since  our  famous 
Spenser  wrote;  whose  poems  in  these... are  as  rarely  imitated  as 
sweetly  excelled."  Cf.  the  reference  to  "  our  admired  Spenser" 
in  the  Animadversions  {P.  IV.  iii.  84,  85),  where  Milton  quotes 
at  some  length  from  The  Shepheards  Calender,  Maye.  Spenser  is 
the  "j«^«?  and  serious  poet"  of  the  Areopagitica,  P.  W.  ii.  68, 
where  The  Faerie  Queene,  ii.  7,  is  in  Milton's  thoughts.  In  the 
preface  to  his  Fables  (translations  from  Chaucer  and  Boccacio) 

Dryden  writes:    "Milton  was  the  poetical  son  of  Spenser 

Milton  has  acknowledged  to  me  that  Spenser  was  his  original." 

tatight  by  the  heavenly  Muse.  Repeated  in  Par.  Lost,  iir.  19: 
"I  sung  of  Chaos  and  eternal  Night, 
Taught  by  the  Heavenly  Muse." 
This  claim  to  direct  inspiration  is  common  with  poets  influenced 
by  the  classics.  Milton  is  so  great,  and  so  justly  conscious  of  his 
greatness,  that  coming  from  him  the  words  have  no  trace  of 
boastful  egotism. 

516.  Storied,  narrated.     Cf.  Venus  and  Adonis,  1013,  1014. 

517.  Cf.  Par.  Lost,  il.  628,  "Gorgons,  and  Hydras,  and 
Chimoeras  dire."  Milton's  poetry  is  full  of  these  verbal  echoes ; 
partly  because  he  so  often  employs  traditional  epithets,  taken 
straight  from  the  classics.  For  the  Chimitra  cf.  /Had,  vi.  181  : 
irpdffde  \i(j3v,  oTTiOev  5i  BpaKuv,  fiiaa-q  5k  x'T^a'P"!  i-e.  it  was  a 
monster  resembling  a  lion  in  its  fore  part,  a  dragon  in  its  bind 
part,  and  a  goat  in  the  middle. 

enchanted  isles.  Keferring  primarily,  we  can  scarcely  doubt, 
to  the  "Wandring  Islands"  of  The  Faerie  Queeiie,  11.  12.  11  ct 
seq.     Spenser  followed  Tasso's  account  of  the  isle  of  Annida. 


NOTES.  93 

518.  riftedy  i.e.  rocks  with  yawning  chasms.  Rift=\.o  split, 
closely  akin  to  rive,  occurs  in  The  Wiiiter's  Tale,  v.  i.  66. 

520.  navel,  centre ;  an  imitation  of  the  similar  use  of  Gk. 
o/A0aXos,  a  navel,  and  Lat.  twibilicus.  Byron  coined  a  participle 
navelled=s,e\.  in  the  midst  of;  cf.  "Nemi  na  veiled  in  the  woody 
hills,"  Childe  Harold,  IV.  173. 

521.  cypress ;  the  gloomiest  of  shade,  hence  appropriate  to 
the  scene  of  the  horrid  "rites"  (535)  of  the  magician  and  his 
"monstrous  rout." 

522—530.   Cf.  46—77- 

526.  murmurs,  i.e.  incantations  spoken  over  the  potion  as 
it  was  being  brewed,  such  as  those  of  the  Witches  in  Macbeth, 
IV.  I.  For  murmur —^-^qW,  cf.  Arcades,  60,  "With  puissant 
words,  and  murmurs  made  to  bless." 

629>  530-  i-e-  destroying  the  emblem  of  reason  which  is 
stamped  in  the  human  countenance.  George  Herbert  says  in 
The  Chiirch- Porch,  "  Wine  above  all  things  doth  God's  stamp 
deface." 

529.  reason  ;  for  Milton,  the  chief  faculty  of  the  soul  {Par. 
Lost,  V.  100 — 102)  ;  the  embodiment  of  those  higher  qualities  of 
intellect  which  separate  men  from  the  brute  creation. 

530.  Charactered,  stamped;  a  continuation  of  the  metaphor 
in  tinmoulding  (i.e.  breaking  up  the  pattern)  and  mintage. 
See  G.,  and  for  the  accentuation  cf.  The  Two  Gentlemen  of 
Vei'ona,  II.  7.  3,  4: 

' '  the  table  wherein  all  my  thoughts 
Are  visibly  chardcte7''d  and  engraved." 

531.  croft.  "A  little  close  [i.e.  enclosure]  adjoining  to  a 
house,  and  used  for  corn  or  pasture  " — Johnson. 

532.  That  brow  this  bottom  glade,  i.e.  that  skirt  the  top  of 
the  wood  which  slopes  down  to  the  valley.  In  some  dialects 
(e.g.  the  New  Forest)  bottom  is  still  in  use  for  a  valley, 
glade. 

533.  monstrous  roiit,  herd  of  monsters ;  an  instance  of 
the  adjective  doing  the  duty  of  the  first  part  of  a  compound 
noun;  cf.  Lye.  158.  Monster-rout  would  sound  awkward. 
German  has  a  distinct  advantage  over  English  in  this  respect. 

534.  Perhaps  stabled—  'which  have  got  inside  the  sheep-fold 
(Lat.  stabulum),''  and,  as  we  know  from  Vergil,  Eclogue  III.  80, 
triste  lupus  stabulis  (*  a  wolf  is  no  pleasant  thing  for  sheepfolds'). 


94  COM  us. 

But  Milton  may  only  mean  'wolves  in  their  haunts';  cf.  Par. 
Lost,  XI.  752,  where  the  verb  stable  =  \o  have  a  lair. 

535.     Doing  rites;  Lat.  sacra  facerey  Gk.  iepa  pi^civ. 

abhorred,  deie?.iable,  horrible  ;  for  the  termination  ed=able 
see  the  note  on  349.     Hecate;  see  135,  note. 

537.  yet,  i.e.  though  they  themselves  are  "monstrous"  and 
therefore  repulsive,  and  their  "rites"  horrible,  yet  they  have 
means  to  attract  people. 

539.  Milton,  like  Spenser,  uses  tinweetitig,  not  uinvitting. 
The  ee  represents  better  the  long  i  of  A.-S.  witan,  to  know. 

540,  by  then,  by  the  time  that.  Cf.  by  this=-^  hy  this 
time';  "And  I  do  know,  by  this,  they  stay  for  me,"  Julius 
CiEsar,  I.  3.   125. 

542.  knot-grass.  There  is  a  stock  joke  in  the  dramatists 
that  short  people  have  eaten  knot-grass  {Polygonum  aviculare), 
whose  special  property  it  was  to  stop  growth.  Cf.  A  Mid- 
summer- Nighfs  Dream,  ill.  2.  329  ("/im^(?r?«!^  knot-grass"). 

546.  vielancholy .  Not  gloomy  dejection,  but  the  mood  of 
seriousness  or  reflection  celebrated  in  //  Penseroso ;  what  Gray 
in  one  of  his  letters  calls  "white  Melancholy,  or  rather 
Leucocholy^''  {Works,  Gosse's  ed.  Ii.  114).     Gk.  Xei'/c6s  =  white. 

547.  i.e.  to  play  on  my  shepherd's  pipe.     See  Lye.  66.  ' 

548.  her  fill;  now  a  somewhat  vulgar  phrase,  but  not  then  ; 
cf.  Sonnet  XIV.  14,  "And  drink  thy  fill  of  pure  immortal 
streams."     See  Leviticus  xxv.    19. 

ere  a  close;  "i.e.  before  he  had  finished  the  song  he  had 
begun  on  his  pipe  " — Masson.  Possibly  close  has  its  musical 
sense  'cadence,'  i.e.  before  he  reached  a  cadence  in  his  song. 
Cf.  Richard  //.  ii.  i.  12,  "music  at  the  close."  A  musician 
himself,  Milton  uses  musical  terms  often,  with  a  musician's 
accuracy. 

549.  wonted;  cf.  "night  by  night"  (532). 

7uas  up,  had  begun.  Tlie  'Hunt's  up'  was  the  title  of  an 
old  ballad-tune,  referred  to  in  Romeo  and  Juliet,  iii.  5.  34. 

551.  Listen  is  transitive  in  Much  Ado  Almit  Nothing,  11 1. 
1.12,  "listen  our  purpose  "  (  =hear  our  conversation,  F.  propos). 

552.  an  tintisual  stop,  i.e.  at  line  145  ("  break  off"). 

553.  respite,  i.e.  "  from  the  trouble  the  noise  hail  been 
causing  them" — Masson. 

droivsy-Jlighted ;    so   the    Cambridge  MS.^   excej)!   that    the 


NOTES.  95 

words  are  not  hyphened.  The  original  editions  (1637,  1645, 
1673)  all  have  drotvsie  frighted,  which  must  mean,  'the  drowsy 
steeds"  of  night  which  had  been  frighted  by  the  noise  of  Comus 
and  his  crew.'  Though  this  reading  has  the  better  authority,  it 
seems  in  itself  much  inferior  to  dro7vsy -flighted.  For  droivsy- 
flighted  gives  a  more  picturesque  conception  ;  it  is  in  form  an 
essentially  Miltonic  compound — cf.  "  flowery-kirtled "  (254), 
"rushy- fringed"  (890);  and  it  harmonises  with  the  passage 
in  2  Henry  VI.  iv.  i.  3 — 6,  which  Milton  must  have  had  in 
his  mind's  eye : 

"And  now  loud-howling  wolves  arouse  the  jades 

That  drag  the  tragic  melancholy  night ; 

Who  with  their  drowsy,  sloiv  and  flagging  wings 

Clip  dead  men's  graves." 
We  have,  surely,  in  the  third  line  of  this  quotation  the  germ  of 
drotvsy flighted,  and  it  appears  most  improbable  that  Milton 
should  have  changed  the  line  so  manifestly  for  the  worse. 
Further,  drowsy  frighted  is  an  awkward  combination  of 
opposite  ideas.  I  suppose  then  that  frighted  was  simply  an 
error  in  the  1637  edition  which  escaped  Milton's  notice  and,  not 
being  corrected  by  him,  was  of  course  reproduced  by  the  printer 
in  the  later  editions.  Newton  first  adopted  flighted  from  the 
Cambridge  MS.  and  Masson  accepts  it.  The  attempt  to  make 
frighted  =  freighted  (with  the  sense  'the  steeds  of  night  heavy 
with  sleep')  is  impossible. 

554.  /zV/^r,  chariot,  close-curtained  Sleep.  We  cannot  help 
remembering  Macbeth's  "curtain'd  sleep,"  11.  i.  51;  and 
Juliet's  "Spread  thy  close  curtain,  night,"  Ro/nco,  iii.  2.  5. 

555 — 5^'^'     Referring  of  course  to  the  Lady's  Song  (230 — 
243),  in  the  same  complimentary  manner  as  before  (244).     Gray 
(Progress  of  Poesy,  i.  2)  addresses  the  power  of  music: 
"Oh!    Sovereign  of  the  Milling  soul, 
Parent  of  sweet  and  solemn-breathing  airs." 
556.     stream  of  peifume.     The   edition  of  1673  spoils  the 
metaphor   by   substituting    stream.      Todd    quotes   a   beautiful 
parallel  from  Bacon's  Essays  (xLVi,):   "Because  the  breath  of 
flowers  is  farre  sweeter  in  the  aire,  where  it  comes  and  goes  like 
the  warbling  of  music."     Cf.  Tennyson,  The  Lotos- Eaters : 
"they  find  a  music  centred  in  a  doleful  song 

Steaming  up." 


96  coMus. 

Note  in  555 — 557  the  effect  of  the  alliteration  {s.,.s  and  j/). 

557>  SS^'  ^o  when  the  nightingale  sang  "  Silence  was 
pleased"  (/*ar.  Lost,  iv.  604).  tkaf,  so  that,  too/e,  charmed  ; 
see  G. 

559,  560.  i.e.  cease  to  exist,  if  she  could  always  be  displaced 
or  banished  in  the  same  way.     stil/,  ever,  always. 

560.  all  ear ;  now  a  rather  colloquial  phrase,  but  not  then; 
cf.  The  Tempest,  I  v.  59,  "No  tongue  !  all  eyes  !  be  silent!" 

562.  the  ribs  of  Death  ;  a  conventional  description.  War- 
burton  thought  that  it  might  have  been  suggested  by  some 
allegorical  representation  of  Death  as  a  "  bare-ribbed  "  skeleton 
in  a  popular  ^^^y^  of  Emblems.  "Bare-ribbed"  is  the  epithet 
applied  to  Death  in  King  John,  v.  2.  177.  Contrast  the 
shadowy,  more  awe-inspiring  conception  of  Death  in  Far.  Lost, 
II.  666 — 673. 

565.     Amazed ;  see  356,  note. 

568.     lawns,  glades,  open  spaces  in  the  forest ;  see  G. 

571.     in  sly  disguise,  i.e.  as  a  "villager,"  166;  cf.  576. 

575.  We  are  to  suppose  that  he  was  present,  though 
invisible,  at  part  of  the  interview  between  the  Lady  and  Comus. 
such  tzvo,  i.e.  as  she  described.     Cf.  "two  such  I  saw,"  291. 

584.  You  gave  me.     Referring  to  418 — 458. 

585.  period,  sentence. 

586.  for  me,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned. 

591.  i.e.  that  which  mischief  intejided  to  be  most  harmful. 

592.  happy  trial,  trial  of  happiness  ;  or  the  adjective  might 
have  what  is  called  a  proleptic  (or  anticipatory)  force — '  the  trial 
which  proves  virtue  happy.' 

593 — 597.  Slowly  separating  from  the  good  the  evil  element 
preys  upon  itself,  just  as  the  figure  of  Sin  in  Par.  Lost^  II,  798 — 
800  is  gnawed  by  the  whelps  of  her  own  womb. 

594.  ivhen,  till. 

595.  settled ;  like  liquid  ;  the  metaphor  in  "scum." 

597.  if  this  fail ;   if  what  I  have  said  prove  false. 

598.  Cf.  Par.  Regained,  iv.  455,  "the  pillared  frame  of 
heaven,"  where  Mr  Jerram's  note  is:  "The  (supposed)  solid 
dome  of  the  sky  requires  pillars  for  its  support."  He  refers  to 
Job  xxvi.  II,  "the  pillars  of  heaven  tremble... at  his  reproof." 

603.  legions.     Scan  as  a  trisyllable,    griesly;  see  G. 

604.  Acheron.     Strictly  one  of  the  four  rivers  of  the  lower 


NOTES.  97 

world  round  which  the  shades  of  the  dead  hover,  as  in  Par.  Lost, 

11.578: 

"  Abhorred  Styx,  the  flood  of  deadly  hate ; 
Sad  Acheron,  of  sorrow,  black  and  deep": 
then  put  for  the  lower  world  itself;  of.  the  use  of  Stygian,  132. 
From  axos,  pain,  sorrow  +  peetf,  to  flow. 

605.  Harpies ;  the  'robbers'  or  'spoilers,'  from  Gk.  apird^eiv, 
to  seize.  They  were  hideous,  winged  female  monsters  with 
hooked  claws,  who  swooped  upon  ^neas  and  his  followers  as 
they  were  feastingi  in  one  of  the  Ionian  islands  and  carried  off 
their  food  {yEna'd,  ill.  225 — 228).  One  of  the  most  vivid 
descriptions  of  the  Harpies  in  English  poetry  is  in  William 
Morris's  Jason,  v.  aigetseq. 

Hydra;  literally  'a  water  serpent'  (Gk.  uSwp,  water); 
specially  used  of  the  Lernean  Hydra,  a  nine-headed  serpent, 
the  slaying  of  which  was  one  of  the  '  labours '  of  Hercules.  When 
he  cut  off  one  head  two  fresh  heads  sprang  in  its  stead,  till 
at  last  he  discovered  how  to  deal  with  the  monster. 

606.  Tivixt  Africa  a)id  hid,  i.e.  from  one  end  of  the  world 
to  the  other — west  to  east.  Ind  or  Inde  is  a  common  poetic 
form  of  India;   cf.  Par.  Lost,  ii.  2. 

608.  In  Ben  Jonson's  Masque  Pleasure  Reconciled  to  Virtue, 
Comus  has  "his  head  crown'd  with  roses  and  other  flowers, 
his  hair  curled."  In  Elizabethan  times  curling  the  hair  was  a 
mark  of  effeminacy  and  affectation;  see  King  Lear,  iii.  4.  88. 

609.  purchase,  prize,  booty;  see  G. 

610.  yet,  nevertheless,  i.e.  though  he  has  just  said  "alas!" 
It  is  vain  courage,  but  he  cannot  help  admiring  it. 

611.  stead,  service;  cf.  the  verb  in  The  Merchant  of  Venice, 
I.  3.  7,  "May  you  stead  me?"  i.e.  Can  you  help  me?  To  do  a 
thing  in  the  stead,  i.e.  place,  of  a  man  is  to  help  him. 

612.  other,  i.e.  mightier.  For  the  emphatic  repetition  cf. 
Lye.  174. 

613.  hellish;  cf.  581. 

614.  6x5.  There  are  resemblances  to  The  Tempest;  cf.  i.  2. 
469 — 473  (Prospero's  first  meeting  with  Ferdinand),  and  iv. 
259 — 261. 

bare,  mere,  wand;  the  usual  symbol  of  magical  power ;  cf. 
Prospero's  "staff"  (v.  54).  unthread,  take  out  of  their  sockets, 
dislocate,     crumble,  cause  to  shrivel  up. 

V.  C.  7 


98  COM  us. 

617.  As  to  make,  i.e.  as  to  be  able  to  make. 
relation,  report;  cf.  the  verb  'to  relate.^ 

618.  siirprisal ;  an  echo  of  590. 

619 — 628.  Probably  a  reference  to  Milton's  school-friend 
Diodati,  whose  premature  death  in  1638  inspired  the  EpitapJtitim 
Damonts.  Lines  150 — 154  of  that  poem  mention  Diodati's 
knowledge  of  botany  and  habit  of  imparting  it  to  Milton. 

620.  to  see  to.  An  obsolete  expression  =  to  behold;  cf. 
Ezekiel  xxiii.  15:  "Girded  with  girdles  upon  their  loins,  ex- 
ceeding in  dyed  attire  upon  their  heads,  all  of  them  princes  to 
look  to,"  and  jfoshua  xxii.  10,  "  a  great  altar  to  see  to." 

skilled,  i.e.  versed  in  the  lore  of.  Skill  was  a  word  of  wider 
scope  then.  Among  the  synonyms  of  it  given  and  illustrated  by 
quotation  in  Schmidt's  Shakespeare  Lexicon  are  'discernment,'" 
'sagacity,'  'mental  power,'  'knowledge  of  any  art.' 

621.  virtuous,  possessed  of  medicinal  properties. 

626.  sci'ip,  bag.  "Orig.  sense  'scrap,'  because  made  of  a 
scrap  of  stuff" — Skeat.     Cf.  Luke  xxii.   35. 

627.  simples.  A  simple  was  a  single  (i.e.  simple)  ingredient 
in  a  compound,  especially  in  a  compounded  medicine.  Its  as- 
sociation with  medicine  led  to  the  common  meaning  '  medicinal 
herb';  once  in  current  use,  as  it  occurs  so  often  in  Shakespeare — 
^^aillingoi  simples,"  Romeo  and  Juliet,  v.  i.  40.     Cf.  630. 

630 — 633.  In  point  of  style  this  passage,  with  its  accumula- 
tion of  hits,  seems  the  most  awkward  in  Comtis. 

634.  like,  i.e.  correspondingly : '  as  unknown,  so  unesteemed.' 

635.  clouted,  patched,  mended  ;  see  G. 

636.  637.  that,  the  famous;  cf.  2.  Aloly ;  the  mysterious 
plant  which  Hermes  (Lat.  Mercury)  gave  Odysseus  as  a  safeguard 
against  the  charms  of  Circe  {Odysst'v,  x.  281 — 306).  In  poetry 
it  is  the  flower  of  ideal  lands.  Tennyson's  Lotos- Eaters  lie 
"Propt  on  beds  of  amaranth  and  moly";  and  Shelley  associates 
the  same  plants  in  Prometheus  Unbound,  ii.  4: 

"folded  Elysian  flowers, 
Nepenthe,  Moly,  Amaranth,   fadeless  blooms." 

637.  wise.  Homer's  constant  epithet  for  Odysseus  (  =  Ulys- 
ses) is  7roXi;/A7;ris  =  of  many  counsels,  i.e.  ever  ready  with  some 
wise  scheme.  This  conception  of  him  as  the  man  of  wonderful 
knowledge  and  thought  and  experience  is  brought  out  most 
strikingly  in  Tennyson's   Ulysses. 


NOTES.  99 

638.  Hirmouy.  The  name  is  Milton's  invention  and  com- 
monly explained  as  a  reference  to  Ilccnionia,  an  old  name  of 
Thessaly,  the  land  of  magic  in  classical  writers  (e.g.  Horace, 
Odes,  I.  27.  21,  22).     So  we  may  call  it  'the  Thessalian  plant.' 

639.  sovran,  most  efficacious ;  see  G. 

640.  mildeiv  blast,  i.e.  the  hurtful  power  of  mildew  sent  by 
evil  spirits.  Cf.  King  Lear,  III,  4.  t20,  123,  "This  is  the  foul 
fiend... he  mildews  the  white  wheat." 

641.  Furies,  evil  fairies.     Scan  appariti-Sn.. 

642.  i.e.  I  put  it  away  in  my  purse,  but  never  thought  much 
about  it.     See  Zy^r,  116. 

644.     it,  i.e.  what  the  shepherd  had  said  about  the  plant. 

644 — 647.  Warton  points  out  that  it  was  a  recognised 
expedient  in  medieval  talcs  for  a  warrior  of  the  type  of  the 
Red  Crosse  Knight  to  cany  a  charm,  often  a  herb,  as  a  pro- 
tective against  evil  influences. 

650,  651.  Probably  an  echo  of  Odyssey,  X.  294,  295,  where 
Hermes  says  to  Odysseus,  "when  it  shall  be  that  Circe  smites 
thee  with  her  long  wand,  then  draw  thou  thy  sharp  sword 
from  thy  thigh,  and  spring  on  her,  as  one  eager  to  slay  her." 

651,  652.  So  in  The  Faerie  Qnecne,  ii.  12.  57,  when  the 
sorceress  Acrasia  offered  to  Guyon  the  enchanted  cup  which  she 
was  wont  to  present  to  strangers,  he  flung  it  down,  "And  with 
the  liquor  stained  all  the  land." 

653.     seize  his  wand ;  which  the  brothers  fail  to  do. 

curst  creiv.  Cf.  Par.  Lost,  VI.  806.  In  his  epics  Milton 
repeatedly  applies  crezu  to  Satan  and  the  rebellious  angels. 

655.  Vnlcan,,  the  Roman  god  of  fire,  and  master  of  the 
arts,  such  as  working  in  metals,  which  need  the  aid  of  fire. 
Hence  his  "sons"  might  be  expected  to  "vomit  smoke,"  as  did 
the  giant  Cacus  (one  of  the  "sons"),  ALneid,  viii.  252,  253. 

The  Scene  chaiiges.  Probably  a  screen,  called,  a  traverse 
or  travers,  was  put  forward  while  the  alteration  of  the  scene 
was  being  made.  Cf.  Ben  Jonson's  Entertainment  at  Theobalds, 
1607,  "The  King  and  Queen,  being  entered  into  the  gallery, 
after  dinner  there  was  seen  nothing  but  a  traverse  of  white 
across  the  room :  which  suddenly  drawn,  was  discovered  a  gloomy 
obscure  place."     See  Nares's  Glossary. 

soft  music.  Wanting  in  the  Cambridge  MS.  Doubtless  the 
addition  of  music  was  due  to  Lawcs.     The  idea  of  tempting  by 

7—2 


lOO  COMUS. 

means  of  a  banquet  (cf.  The  Tempest,  ill.  3)  meets  us  in  medieval 
romances  of  virtue  assailed  by  evil  powers.  I  believe  that  it  is 
the   basis   of  the   scene   of   temptation   in   Par.   Regained,   ii. 

337- 

enchanted  chair  ;  because  "smeared  with  gums,"  917. 

puts  by,  refuses.     So  Cresar  (i.  2.  230)  rejected  the  crown  : 

"Ay,  marry... he  put  it  by  thrice."    goes  about,  tries. 

6gQ — 813.     Dramatically  the  most  effective  part  of  Comas. 

660.  i.e.  your  sinews  (Lat.  nei'vi)  will  all  be  turned  to 
alabaster,  and  you  will  become  a  statue,  or  rooted  to  the  spot, 
as  was  Daphne. 

For  nei-ve  in  its  Latin  sense  cf.  the  Sonnet  to  Vane,  where 
he  calls  money  the  "nerves"  of  war,  i.e.  sinews,  as  we  say. 
are ;  a  vivid  present  to  suggest  immediate  effect. 
alabaster;   a  sulphate  of  lime;    the  pure  white  variety  was 
much  used  in  images  and  monuments:  hence  "statue"  in  661. 
Cf.  The  Merchant  of  Venice,  i.  i.  83,  84: 

"Why  should  a  man,  whose  blood  is  warm  within, 
Sit  like  his  grandsire  cut  in  alabaster?" 
and  "smooth  as  monumental  alabaster"  in  Othello,  v.  2.  5. 

661.  Daphne.  The  story  of  Daphne  the  nymph  who  fled 
from  Apollo  and  was  changed  into  a  laurel- tree  at  her  own 
petition  is  told  by  Ovid,  Aletamorphoses,  I.  660  et  seq. 

664.  corporal  rind,  bodily  covering. 

665.  while,  so  long  as  (and  only  so  long). 

668.  A  reminiscence,  perhaps,  of  Isaiah  xxxv.  10,  "they 
shall  obtain  joy  and  gladness,  and  sorrow  and  sighing  shall  flee 
away." 

670.  returns,  i.e.  circulates  again  (as  though  it  had  been 
dormant  during  the  winter). 

672.  Julep.  Properly  rose-water;  then  any  bright  drink, 
as  here  ;  linally  often  used  to  signify  a  syrup  medicine.  Persian 
guly  a  ro?,e  + db,  water. 

673.  Cf.  Samson  Agonistes,  543 — 546  : 

"Nor  did  the  dancing  ruby, 
Sparkling  outpoured,  the  flavour  or  the  smell, 
Or  taste  that  cheers  the  hearts  of  gods  and  men. 
Allure  thee  from  the  cool  crystalline  stream." 

674.  balm;  implying  that  which  soothes. 

675.  676.     See  Odyssey,  iv.  219 — 229,  where  Menelaus  and 


NOTES.  lOT 

Helen  entertain  Telemachus  at  Sparta;  and  "Helen,  daughter 
of  Zeus,  presently  cast  a  drug  into  the  wine  whereof  they  drank, 
a  drug  to  lull  all  pain  and  anger,  and  bring  forgetfulness  of  every 
sorrow.  Whoso  should  drink  a  draught  thereof,  when  it  is 
mingled  in  the  bowl,   on  that  day  he  would  let  no   tear  fall 

down  his  cheeks,  not  though  his  father  and  mother  died 

Medicines  of  such  virtue  {^dpfxaKa  ix-qTioevra)  had  the  daughter 
of  Zeus,  which  Polydamna,  the  wife  of  Thon,  had  given  her,  a 
woman  of  Egypt"  (Butcher  and  Lang). 

Properly  Nepenthes,  or  Nepenthe,  (Gk.  prj-rreudris,  without 
pain)  meant  the  drug  itself  (perhaps  opium) — or  herb  whence  it 
was  extracted — which  had  this  power  of  lulling  sorrow  for  the 
day  on  which  it  was  drunk :  hence  any  deliciously  soothing 
liquor.     See    T/ie  Faerie  Queene,  iv.  3.  43. 

679.  Cf.  Samson  Agonistes,  784,  and  Shakespeai*e's  first 
Sonnet,  "Thyself  thy  foe,  to  thy  sweet  self  too  cruel."  In  the 
translation  of  More's  Utopia  we  read,  "When  nature  biddeth 
the  (i.e.  thee)  to  be  good  and  gentle  to  other,  she  commaundeth 
the  not  to  be  cruell  and  ungentle  to  the  selfe,"  p.  107,  Pitt  Press 
ed.  Probably  the  idea  was  suggested  by  Proverbs  xi.  17,  "  The 
merciful  man  doeth  good  to  his  own  soul :  but  he  that  is  cruel 
troubleth  his  own  flesh." 

680.  Nature  lent.  Cf.  Shakespeare's  fourth  Sonnet,  3: 
"Nature's  bequest  gives  nothing,  but  doth  lend,"  i.e.  nature 
never  gives  anything  to  man  for  his  absolute  possession,  but 
always  regards  him  as  holding  her  gifts  on  "  trust." 

685.  unexenipt  condition,  terms  from  which  no  one  can  be 
exempt.  Observe  how  the  metaphor  of  trusteeship  runs  through 
680—685  ;  cf  "covenants,"  "trust,"  "terms,"  etc. 

686.  mortal  frailty,  weak  human  nature. 

688.     That.     The  antecedent  must  be  "you"  in  682. 
693,  694.     Cf.  319—321. 

695.  aspects,  objects,  appearances.     Scan  aspects  and  see  G. 

696.  brewed  enchantments,  i.e.  the  draught  in  his  crystal 
cup  "with  many  murmurs  mixed"  (526).  Cf.  Samson  Agonistes, 
934,  "Thy  fair  enchanted  cup,  and  warbling  charms." 

698.     vizored,  masked,  disguised,    forgery,  deceit. 
700.     lickerish,  dainty;  see  G. 

702,  703.  Cf.  Euripides,  Medea,  618,  KaKov  yap  dvdpbs  dQp 
Svrjaiu  ovK  ^x^L  ('for  the  gifts  of  a  bad  man  bring  no  advantage'); 


I02  COMUS. 

in  the  same  way  *an  enemy's  gifts  do  not  profit' — exdpC}v  aSupa 
dCopa  KovK  ovfiffLfia,  Sophocles,  AJax,  665. 

706 — 709.  i.e.  foolish  are  those  who  adopt  the  doctrines  of 
Stoicism  or  Cynicism  and  practise  rigid,  morose  abstinence. 

707.  budge;  the  name  of  a  fur,  perhaps  goat-skin ;  see  G. 
Budge-row  in  the  City  was  so  called  because  most  of  the  London 
furriers  lived  in  it ;  the  Skinners'  Company's  Hall  is  still  there. 
This  fur  seems  to  have  been  specially  employed  in  the  ornamen- 
tation of  academic  dress.  Todd  quotes  a  regulation  of  the 
University  of  Cambridge  issued  in  14x4  with  reference  to  the 
dress  of  graduates,  and  budge  is  one  of  the  furs  mentioned  as 
proper  for  hoods.  In  a  tract  against  the  Presbyterian  elders  at 
Belfast  Milton  refers  to  their  wearing  "  budge-gowns  "  {Obser- 
vations on  the  Articles  of  Peace).  It  looks  then  as  if  Milton, 
perhaps  with  a  recollection  of  budge-trimmed  hoods  seen  at 
Cambridge,  used  '  budge '  to  suggest  a  learned  professor,  very 
much  as  we  use  '  ermine '  in  special  association  with  the  judges. 
I  think  that  we  must  paraphrase  in  some  such  way  as  'those 
teachers  whose  furred  gowns  mark  them  as  professors  in  the 
school  of  Stoicism.'  There  was  an  adjective  budge  — s,i\^,  formal, 
solemn-looking;  but  its  use  cannot  be  traced  as  far  as  1634. 
Moreover,  "Stoic  fiir"  shows  that  Milton  meant  the  noun 
budge  (  =  fur),  not  this  adjective.     See  New  English  Did. 

708.  the  Cynic  tub.  Referring  to  Diogenes  (B.C.  412  — 
323)  the  Cynic  philosopher,  famous  for  his  life  of  extreme 
austerity  and  moroseness  at  Athens.  "He  wore  coarse  clothing, 
lived  on  the  plainest  food,  slept  in  porticoes  or  in  the  street, 
and  finally,  according  to  the  common  story,  took  up  his  resi- 
dence in  a  tub  " — Classical  Diet.  The  Cynics  were  so  called 
"  from  their  dog-like  neglect  of  all  forms  and  usages  of  society." 
Gk.  Kvwv,  a  dog,  whence  kvvikos,  dog-like.  The  founder  of  tlie 
sect  was  Antisthenes,  a  pupil  of  Socrates. 

711.  innvithdraioing,  bounteous,  holding  back  nothing. 

712.  odours,  i.e.  fragrant  herbs  and  flowers. 

714.  But  all  to,  except  to.  curious,  dainty,  critical.  Cf. 
Shakespeare,  Sonnet  38,  13,  "If  my  slight  Muse  do  ]>lcase  these 
curious  days."     Lat.  cura,  care. 

716.     shops,  workshops;  meaning  on  mulberry  trees. 

719.     hutched,  enclosed,  shut  up;  see  G.     ore^  metal;   sec 

933'  fy<^-  'TO- 


NOTES.  103 

721.  Cf.  Daniel  i.  12  :  "Prove  thy  servants,  I  beseech  thee, 
ten  days ;  and  let  them  give  us  pulse  to  eat,  and  water  to  drink." 
Cf.  Par.  Regained,  II.  278,  "Or  as  a  guest  with  Daniel  at  his 
pulse  "  (  =  beans,  peas),     a  pet  of,  a  foolish  craze  for. 

722.  frieze,  or  frize ;  coarse  woollen  cloth,  made  chiefly 
in  Wales;  originally  however,  from  Friesland.  For  cloths 
named  after  the  country  whence  they  were  first  imported,  cf. 
Cambric  from  Cambray  in  Flanders,  calico  from  Calient. 

724.  yet  despised.  Men  would  be  despising  the  rich  gifts  of 
which  they  foolishly  made  no  use  and  therefore  could  form  no 
just  opinion.     Cf.  634. 

727.  "If  ye  be  without  chastisement,  whereof  all  are  par- 
takers, then  are  ye  bastards,  and  not  sons,"  Hebreivs  xii.  8. 

like  bastards,  because  the  illegitimate  have  not  the  same 
rights  as  regards  their  parents  that  legitimate  "sons"  have; 
thus  they  have  no  claim  to  a  parent's  property  at  death.  But 
we  (says  Comus)  should  enjoy  the  full  rights  of  sonship  in  relation 
to  our  parent  Nature. 

728,  729.  This  idea,  expanded  in  the  next  lines,  occurs  in 
Par.  Lost,  v.  318—320. 

surcharged ;  F.  surcharge,  overladen  with,  zveight,  i.e.  of 
crops,  herds  etc.     waste,  wasted. 

731.  0'' er- multitude,  i.e.  grow  too  numerous  for  their  shep- 
herds and  keepers  to  manage. 

732.  derfraught,  i.e.  overfull  offish  ;  cf.  713. 

the  unsought  diamonds.  Cf.  881,  where  Milton  speaks  of 
"diamond  rocks."  These  "rocks"  might  well  be  said  to 
"stud"  and  "emblaze"  (i.e.  make  brilliant)  the  surface  ("fore- 
head") of  the  sea.  The  argument  seems  to  Ijc  that  men  should 
quarry  them  and  take  away  their  diamonds,  not  leave  them 
there  "unsought."  Todd  argued  that  the  lines  were  designedly 
fanciful,  and  were  meant  to  harmonise  "  with  the  character 
of  the  'wily'  speaker"  (Comus)  and  "to  expose  that  ostentatious 
sophistry  by  which  a  bad  cause  is  generally  supported." 

733.  Cf.  21—23. 

734.  they  belo7.u,  i.e.  the  inhabitants  and  creatures  of  the 
deep,  such  as  mermen,  fishes.    Some  say  'men  on  earth,'  oi  Kara}. 

735.  inured ;  see  G. 

737,  738.  Note  the  contemptuous  effect  of  the  alliteration, 
especially  o{  c,  c.-,  so  again  in  749,  750.     cozened;  see  G. 


I04  COM  US. 

737 — 755.  The  whole  passage  from  "  List,  lady,"  737, 
down  to  755,  though  extant  in  the  Caynhridge  AIS.,  is  wanting  in 
the  Bridgewater  copy.  This  shows  that  the  lines  were  not 
spoken  at  the  actual  performance.  The  omission  was  certainly 
a  great  advantage  from  the  point  of  view  of  good  taste. 

738.  Cf.  Fairfax,  translation  of  Tasso,  xiv.  63,  "Virtue 
itself  is  but  an  idle  name."  The  line  occurs  in  Tasso's  famous 
description  of  the  isle  of  Armida  ;  Milton  probably  had  the 
passage  in  mind  both  here  and  in  Par.  Lost,  iv.   272,  273. 

739 — 742.  Many  parallels,  as  regards  both  the  sentiment 
and  the  language,  might  be  quoted  from  Elizabethan  poets,  e.g. 
Shakespeare's  Sonnets,  i — 17  (especially  4  and  6  where  the 
metaphor  resembles  Milton's,  viz.  money  lent  at  interest);  Ben 
Jonson's  Cynthia^s  Revels,  i.  i  (the  latter  part  of  Echo's  speech 
•'His  name  revives");  and  Drayton's  Legend  of  Matilda. 

741.     iimtnal,  shared  with  others. 

743,  744.     Cf.  A  Midsunwier-Nighfs  Dream,  i.  i.  76 — 78. 

745.     Natuf-e's  brag,  i.e.  that  of  which  nature  boasts  justly. 

748.  Much  the  same  jingle  as  "Home-keeping  youth  have 
ever  homely  wits,"  The  Ttvo  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  I.  r.  2. 

749>  750-  i'C.  those  who  have  coarse  complexions  may 
be  content  to  ply — that  is  all  very  well  for  them,  not  for  you. 

complexions.  Scan  as  four  syllables,  sorry,  poor,  unattrac- 
tive, grain;  probably  'hue,'  not  'texture'  (already  implied  in 
"coarse").     See  G. 

751.  saf?ipler,  a  piece  of  wool-work  in  which  patterns  (i.e. 
samples)  were  designed,  especially  the  alphabet.  Lat.  exemplar, 
a  copy. 

to  tease,  to  comb  out.  In  the  art  of  cloth-manufacture 
teasing  IS  the  process  by  which  the  surface  of  the  cloth  is  smoothed 
and  roughnesses  taken  away. 

752.  vermeil-tinctured,  red;  as  if  dipped  in  vermilion  (from 
Lat.  venniculus,  a  little  worm,  used  of  the  cochineal  insect). 

"Vermeil"  as  applied  to  ihe  face  represents  what  has  been 
called  "poetic  diction,"  i.e.  it  is  the  sort  of  picturesque  descrip- 
tion that  one  poet  hands  on  to  another.  Cf.  Caay,  Ode  ok 
Vicissitude : 

"With  vermeil-check  and  whisper  soft 
She  woos  the  tardy  spring." 
and  Keats,  Endyviion,  IV.: 


NOTES.  105 

"O  Sorrow, 

Why  dost  borrow 

The  natural  hue  of  health  from  vermeil  lips?" 

753.  Love-darting  eyes.  Cf.  Sylvester's  translation  (in  ex- 
ceedingly Spenserian  verse)  of  the  French  poet  Du  Bartas  : 
"Whoso  beholds  her  sweet,  love-darting  eyes"  (Grosart's  ed. 
I.  205).  This  translation  was  very  popular;  Milton  certainly 
Studied  it  in  his  youth  and  was  influenced  by  Sylvester's  diction. 
Dryden  confessed  that  he  once  preferred  Sylvester  to  Spenser. 

tresses  like  the  morn ;  an  echo  of  Homer's  phrase  "  the 
fair-tressed  morn,"  evTrXdKa/xos  'Hws.  Cf.  Spenser,  yirgil's 
Gnat,  IX.,  "And  fayre  Aurora,  with  her  rosie  heare"{  =  hair). 
See  Shelley's  Adofiais,  xiv. 

756 — 761.     Spoken  aside. 

to  have  unlocked.  Elizabethan  writers  often  use  this  perfect 
infinitive  "after  verbs  of  hoping,  intending,  or  verbs  signifying 
that  something  onght  to  have  been  done  but  was  not... The  same 
idiom  is  found  in  Latin  poetry  after  verbs  of  wishing  and  intend- 
ing" (Abbott).  Cf.  Par.  Lost,  i.  40,  "  He  trusted  to  have 
equalled  the  Most  High." 

759.  obtruding,  thrusting  before  me.  pranked,  decked.  A 
common  word  in  old  writers  ;  see  G.  Shelley  has  it  more  than 
once,  e.g.  in  The  Question,  "There  grew  broad  flag  flowers, 
purple  pranked  with  white." 

760.  bolt ;  probably  a  metaphor  from  the  preparation  of 
flour,  in  which  to  bolt  (more  correctly  boidt)  is  to  sift  the  meal 
from  the  bran.  Cf.  the  description  of  Coriolanus  (ill.  i.  322, 
323)  as  a  rough  warrior  not  schooled 

"In  bolted  language;  meal  and  bran  together 
He  throws  without  distinction." 
Having  this  sense  *to  refine,  to  sift,'  the  verb  came  by  a  natural 
metaphor  to  be  used  of  subtle  arguing.    So  we  might  pai-aphrase  : 
'  I  hate  to  see  Vice  picking  out  her  subtle  arguments  while  Virtue 
is  tongue-tied  and  unable  to  check  her  proud  enemy.' 

Some  take  bolt= '  to  dart,  shoot  like  a  bolt,'  i.e.  arrow;  cf.  445. 

766,  767.  Cf.  //  Penseroso,  46,  "Spare  Fast,  that  oft  with 
gods  doth  diet."  Comus  had  ridiculed  sobriety  of  living  as  a 
mere  freak — cf.  "pet  of  temperance,"  721;  she  replies  that 
temperance  is  a  holy,  beneficent  power. 

767 — 774.     Milton  has  in  mind   Gloucester's   argument   in 


Io6  COMUS. 

favour  of  practical  socialism,  King  Lear,  iv.  i.  yp,,  74,  viz,  that 
Providence  should  make  "the  superjluoiis  man  "  (cf.  773),  i.e.  him 
who  has  more  wealth  than  he  needs,  give  up  part  of  it  to  his 
poor  neighbours  : 

"So  distribution  should  undo  excess. 
And  each  man  have  enough." 
Lear  expresses  the  same  thought  earlier,  iii.  4,  33 — 36. 

Throughout  this  speech  the  real  speaker  is  obviously  Milton 
himself.  Much  of  it  is  inappropriate  in  the  mouth  of  a 
young  girl.  It  should  be  observed  that  lines  779 — 806  (from 
"Shall  I  go  on"  to  "more  strongly")  are  wanting  in  the  Cam- 
bridge and  Bridgewater  A/SS.,  i.e.  the  passage  was  added  by 
Milton  to  bring  out  the  moral  of  the  Masque.  He  may  have 
thought  that  there  was  no  likelihood  of  Coj/uis  being  acted  SLgam, 
and  that  the  incongiTjity  between  the  youthful  speaker  and  her 
speech  would  be  less  apparent  in  reading  the  poem. 

773.  unsupo'JIiious,  not  superabundant. 

774.  Understand  lootild  be.  store^  abundance.  She  is 
answering  Comus's  argument  in  728 — 731;  cf.  "cumbered,"  730. 

781.  contemptuous  words;  cf.  737,  738.  She  deals  with 
Comus's  points  in  turn :  first  temperance,  then  Nature's  excess, 
then  chastity. 

782.  sun-clad,  radiant,  lustrous;  cf.  425.  There  is  perhaps 
n  glance  at  Revelation  xii.  i:  "And  there  appeared  a  great 
wonder  in  heaven ;  a  woman-  clothed  with  the  sun." 

784 — 787.  Editors  quote  Milton's  description  in  the  Apology 
for  Smectymnuus  of  his  early  studies:  "Thus,  from  the  laureat 
fraternity  of  poets,  riper  years  ami  the  ceaseless  round  of  study 
and  reading  led  me  to  the  shady  spaces  of  philosophy  ;  but 
chiefly  to  the  divine  volumes  of  Plato,  and  his  equal  Xenophon : 
where,  if  I  should  tell  ye  what  I  learnt  of  chastity  and  love,  I 
mean  that  which  is  truly  so,  whose  charming  cup  is  only  virtue, 
which  she  bears  in  her  hand  to  those  who  are  worthy ;  (the  rest 
are  cheated  with  a  thick  intoxicating  potion,  which  a  certain 
sorceress,  the  abuser  of  love's  name,  carries  about ;)  and  how  the 
first  and  chiefest  office  of  love  begins  and  ends  in  the  soul,  pro- 
ducing those  happy  twins  of  her  divine  generation,  knowledge 
and  virtue:  with  such  abstracted  sublimities  as  these,  it  might 
be  worth  your  listening,  readers,"  P.  IV.  in.  119 — i2r.  S(^  in' 
the  same  treatise:   "Having  had  the  doctrine  of  II<>ly  Scripture, 


NOTES.  107 

unfolding  those  chaste  and  high  mysteries  with  timeliest  care 
infused,  that  'the  body  is  for  the  Lord'."  The  verbal  resem- 
blances indicate  that  Milton  in  writing  these  sentences  recollected 
his  earlier  vindication  of  the  "serious  doctrine  of  Virginity." 
Cf.  also  525,  5'26. 

784.  Thou  hast  nor  ear.  Cf.  997.  Comus  cannot  hear,  or 
hearing  will  not  understand,  her  praise  of  purity,  just  as  in 
Arcades,  72,  73,  "the  gross  unpurged  ear"  of  humanity  may  not 
catch  the  sound  of  the  music  from  the  spheres. 

785.  notion^  idea,  or  perhaps  doctrine. 

niystery ;  used  in  its  Scriptural  sense  of  a  truth  specially 
revealed  to  men  (  =  Gk.  fivarripLov).  Cf.  i  Cor.  ii.  7,  "we  speak 
the  wisdom  of  God  in  a  mystery,  even  the  hidden  wisdom." 

788.  art  zvorthy,  dost  deserve,  in  a  bad  sense.  A  rare  use, 
but  cf.  The  Wititer's  Tale,  II.  3.  109,  "worthy  to  be  hanged." 

790.  dear,  i.e.  to  Comus — of  which  he  is  so  proud. 

gay,  i.e.  in  appearance  ('  showy ')  rather  than  in  spirit ;  cf. 
"dazzling,"  791. 

791.  fence;  cf.  the  phrases  'to  fence  with  a  question,'  and 
'  to  parry'  it,  i.e.  not  answer  it  straightforwardly. 

792.  convinced,  proved  to  be  in  the  wrong,  refuted.  Cf. 
yob  xxxii.  12,  "behold,  there  was  none  of  you  that  convinced 
Job,  or  that  answered  his  words." 

793.  uncontrolled,  uncontrollable,  i.e.  irresistible  ;  cf.  "  un- 
controlled tide,"  Lucrece,  645.     See  note  on  349. 

794.  rapt ;  see  G. 

797.  brute,  dull,  unsynipathising ;  the  bruta  tellns  of 
Horace,  Odes,  l.  xxxiv.  9.  Cf.  Tennyson,  In  Mcnioriaiit, 
cxxvii.,  "The  brute  earth  lightens  to  the  sky." 

her  nerves,  her  strength ;  the  sinews  (see  660,  note)  being 
regarded  as  the  seat  of  strength. 

798.  thy  7nagic  st7-uctures ;  Comus's  "  stately  palace." 

80 r.  set  off;  properly  'shown  to  the  best  advantage,'  as  a 
jewel  by  its  setting:  hence  'improved  by,'  and  so  'made  more 
forcible,'  as  here. 

800 — 806.     An  aside. 

802 — 805.  i.e.  a  shudder  of  horror  comes  upon  me,  though 
not  mortal,  like  that  which  comes  upon  Saturn's  followers  when 
Jove  thunders  in  his  wrath  and  dooms  them  to  be  chained  in  the 
lowest  hell. 


I08  COMUS. 

803.  the  wrath  of  Jove,  the  wrathful  Jove  ;  an  abstract  turn 
of  phrase  imitated  from  the  Latin. 

804.  Speaks  thunder  and  chains ;  another  classical  turn  of 
phrase,  the  verb  being  used  literally  with  the  first  noun 
(  =  ' thunders')  and  figuratively  with  the  second  (=' sentences 
them  to  imprisonment').  This  double  use  of  a  verb  is  the 
figure  of  speech  called  zeugma  ('a  joining'). 

Erebus,  Gk.  ^pe^os,  darkness;  a  region  of  utter  darkness  in 
the  nether  world. 

805.  Saturn,  the  Latin  god  Saturnus  identified  with  Gk. 
Cj'onus.  The  legend  was  that  at  one  time  Cronus  and  the 
Titans  ruled  in  Olympus,  till  Zeus  (having  obtained  thunder  and 
lightning  from  the  Cyclops)  hurled  them  into  the  nether  world, 
and  ruled  instead.  The  warfare  {Titano-machia)  of  the  gods 
and  Titans  is  often  referred  to  in  classical  writers,  and  is  to 
some  extent  the  model  followed  by  Milton  in  describing  in 
Paradise  Lost  the  downfall  of  Satan  and  his  followers. 

I  must  dissemble.  This  hackneyed  phrase  occurs  in  Marlowe's 
Jew  of  Malta,  iv.;  cf.  also  2  Henry  F/.  v.  i.  13. 

808.  the  cayton  laws  of  our  foundation,  the  fixed  rules  and 
regidations  of  our  establishment  (or  institution).  An  allusion  to 
the  technical  phrase  canon  /a7i'=  "ecclesiastical  law  as  laid  down 
in  decrees  of  the  Pope  and  statutes  of  Councils  " — Dr  Murray. 

Warton  notes  that  Milton  in  his  prose  tracts  uses  canon  in 
contemptuous  combinations:  e.g.  "canon  iniquity';  "an  in- 
sulting and  only  canon-wise  prelate."  To  the  Puritan  poet 
anything  suggestive  of  Catholicism  was  distasteful.  Gk.  kovCiv 
= rule. 

The  same  sarcastic  purpose  is  seen  in  Milton's  applying  the 
terms  "consistory"  {Par.  Regained,  I.  42)  and  "conclave" 
{Par.  Lost,  I.  795)  to  the  assembly  of  the  evil  angels  :  the  former 
word  being  specially  used  of  the  council-chamber  of  the  Pope 
and  the  Cardinals,  and  the  latter  of  the  meeting  at  which  the 
Cardinals  elect  a  Pope.  Perhaps  a  similar  sneer  underlies 
"pontifical"  in  Par.  Lost,  x.  313. 

foundation;  spoken  as  though  Comus  represented  some 
religious  institution.  "  God  save  the  foundation  "  is  Dogberry's 
petition,  Much  Ado  About  Nothing,  v.  i.  327,  that  being  the 
form  of  thanks  usual  among  those  who  received  alms  at  the  door 
of  a  monastery — Schmidt. 


NOTES.  109 

809,  810.  "  Ancient  physicians  recognised  four  Cardinal 
Hiwioufs,  viz.  blood,  choler,  phlegm  and  melancholy  (black 
bile),  regarded  by  them  as  determining,  by  their  conditions  and 
proportions,  a  person's  physical  and  mental  qualities  and 
dispositions"  {Century  Dictionary).  This  old  physiology  of 
the  'humours'  is  often  alluded  to  by  Milton;  cf.  Samson 
Agonistes,  600,  and  Par.  Lost,  XI.  543 — 546  ;  in  each  passage  he 
speaks  of  depression  of  spirits  as  caused  by  the  black  bile  or 
humour  ( =  fnelancholy  from  Gk.  jxeXas,  black  +  xo^Vi  bile).  There 
is  much  on  the  subject  in  Burton's  Anatomy  of  Melancholy. 

812,  813.     The  alliteration  is  remarkable. 

814.  If  the  "false  enchanter"  had  not  escaped  there  would 
have  been  no  place  for  Sabrina,  whom  Milton  introduces  of 
course  out  of  compliment  to  his  audience. 

815.  Cf.  653,  "  seize  his  wand." 

816.  817.  i.e.  incantations  spoken  backwards  which  are 
potent  in  breaking  a  spell.  "  As  old  as  the  belief  in  magic 
itself  seems  to  have  been  the  belief  that  the  effects  of  enchant- 
ment could  be  undone  by  reversing  the  spell,  pronouncing  the 
words  of  charm  backward  etc... Mesmerists  now  reverse  their 
'  passes '  to  restore  their  patients  " — Masson.  In  The  Faerie 
Qtceene  Britomart  frees  Amoret  by  forcing  the  enchanter  "his 
charmes  back  to  reverse"  (ill.  12.  36). 

822.  Alelibxiis,  another  pastoral  name  in  classical  poetry, 
e.g.  of  one  of  the  shepherds  in  Vergil's  first  Eclogue ;  the  second 
part  of  the  word  seems  connected  with  /3o0s,  an  ox.  There  is 
thought  to  be  a  sly  allusion  here  to  Geoffrey  of  Monmouth,  the 
Chronicler  whose  account  of  Sabrina  Milton  followed,  but  who 
was  not  the  "soothest,"  i.e.  most  trustworthy,  of  writers.  The 
reference  would  be  parallel  to  Spenser's  mentioning  Chaucer 
under  the  pastoral  pseudonym  Tityrus.  See  The  Shepheards 
Calender,  Februarie,  92,  93,  with  the  Glosse. 

823.  soothest,  truest;  see  G. 

824 — 842.     For  the  Story  of  Sabrina  see  Appendix. 

825.     j-7caj/j-,  rules  ;  cf.  18,  19.     curb;  cf.  "  bridle  in,"  887. 

830.  stepdame;  not  strictly  accurate.  But  it  is  a  very  artistic 
inaccuracy  because  it  suggests  a  cause  of  hostility  between 
Guendolen  and  Sabrina  other  than  the  real  cause,  and  dissociates 
the  "guiltless  damsel"  from  her  guilty  mother  Estrildis,  whom 
the  poet  purposely  omits. 


I  10  COMUS. 

834.  pearled,  adorned  with  pearl,  which  is  so  frequently 
associated  with  the  deities  of  river  or  sea.  Thus  a  stage 
direction  in  Ben  Jonson's  Alasqiic  of  Blackness  tells  us 
that  the  nymphs  wore  on  "  the  front,  ear,  necks  and  wrists, 
ornament  of  the  most  choice  and  orient  pearl."  Doubtless 
Sabrina  and  her  water-nymphs  would  be  adorned  thus  when 
they  appear  later  on.  Pearls  are  found  in  many  parts  of  Great 
Britain;  particularly  in  some  of  the  Welsh  rivers,  e.g.  the  Esk 
and  Conway. — Strceter. 

835.  Nereus,  the  father  of  the  Nereids,  dwelling  at  the 
bottom  of  the  sea.  Leaf  remarks  that  he  appears  in  Homer  as 
TraT7]p  yepoiv  and  a\io%  yipwv  ('  old  man  of  the  sea'),  but  is  never 
mentioned  by  name.  "The  epithets  given  him  by  the  poets 
refer  to  his  old  age,  his  kindliness,  and  his  trustworthy  know- 
ledge of  the  future" — Classical  Dictionary.  Cf.  VGYgxVs grand- 
cevus  Nereus  ('*a^<?^  Nereus"),  Gcorgics,  iv.  392. 

836.  reared,  raised  ;  rather  a  favourite  word  with  Milton. 
lank,  drooping  ;    A.-S.  hlanc,   '  bending.' 

837.  his  daughters ;  the  50  sea-nymphs  called  Nereids. 

838.  i.e.  vessels  into  which  nectar  (or  liquid  fragrant  as 
nectar)  had  been  poured  and  in  which  asphodel  flowers  were 
floating. 

lavers ;  see  Glossary,  and  cf.  Samson  Agonistcs,  x'l'i'i, 
1728: 

"With  lavers  pure,  and  cleansing  herbs,  \\ash  off" 
The  clotted  gore." 
ncclared;  cf.  479.  asphodil ;  a  plant  of  the  lily  genus,  its 
commonest  varieties  being  the  yellow  and  the  white  ('King's 
Spear ').  It  is  one  of  the  favourite  flower-names  in  poetry,  from 
the  classical  legend  that  the  Elysian  fields  were  covered  with 
'Asphodt:"/'  (the  modern  form  of  the  name). 

839.  Clearly  a  reminiscence  oi  Hamlet,  I.  5.  63,  64: 
"And  in  the  porches  of  mine  ears  did  pour 

The  leperous  disiihnent." 

840.  The  editors  find  here  echoes  of  the  Iliad;  e.g.  of  \ix. 
38,  where  Thetis  anoints  the  dead  body  of  Patroclus;  and  .win. 
186,  where  Aphrodite  performs  a  similar  office  (and  "andirosial  " 
is  said  of  the  olive  oil  used). 

841.  i.e.  a  change  that  quickly  made  her  immortal;  cf. 
"goddess,"  842. 


NOTES.  I  I  I 

842.  This  idea  of  a  river  having  a  tutelary  deity  who  dwelt 
in  and  luled  over  it  is  essentially  classical. 

845.  Helpins^,  remedying,  icrchin  blasts.  Usually  urchin 
signifies  a  hedgehog,  but  from  the  belief  that  evil  spirits  some- 
times took  the  form  of  a  hedgehog,  tirchin  came  to  mean  a  sprite 
or  wicked  elf.  Cf.  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  iv.  4.  49, 
"Like  urchins,  ouphs  and  fairies."  So  urchin  /Vi^j^/j^ mildew 
upon  corn,  diseases  in  cattle,  etc.,  sent  by  evil  spirits.  From 
7/?r/^w= '  imp'  comes  the  sense  'small  boy.'  Lat.  ericius^  a 
hedgehog. 

ill-luck  signs.  For  the  typical  tricks  played  by  fairies  see 
V  Allegro,  loi — 104,  and  A  Midsuiujner- Night" s  Dreaui,  II.  i. 
32 — 57,  where  Puck  (Robin  Goodfellow)  is  described  as  a 
'"'' shrctvd  and  knavish  sprite."  Cf.  also  Edgar's  account  in 
King  Lear,  in.  4.  123,  of  the  "foul  fiend." 

846.  the ;  as  if  he  had  some  particular  elfin  view  ;  probably 
Robin  Goodfellow,  the  influence  of  A  Midsummer-Nig}ii''s 
Dream  on  Milton  being  so  strong.  shrewdy  wicked,  mis- 
chievous ;    see  G. 

848.     ike  shepherds  at  their  festivals  ;  cf.  171 — 177. 

850.  A  recognised  method  in  pastoral  verse  of  showing 
gratitude.  Cf.  Phineas  Fletcher,  Piscatorie  Eclogues,  ii.  8 
(speaking  of  the  river  Cam)  : 

"  Ungrateful  Chame  !    how  oft  thy  Thyrsis  crown'd 
With  songs  and  garlands  thy  obscurer  head." 

851.  Cf.  Lye.  144.     daffodil ;  see  G. 

852.  the  old  swain  ;  Meliboeus  (822).  What  follows  was  an 
addition  by  Milton  to  the  account  of  the  Chronicler. 

Song ;  a  solo,  sung  by  Lawes. 

862.  No  doubt,  when  Sabrina  rises  later  on  she  wears  a 
chaplet  of  lilies  and  other  water-flowers. 

863.  aviber-dropping,  i.e.  wet  with  the  amber-coloured  water 
of  the  river.  Compare  Par.  Lost,  ill.  359,  where  the  River  of 
Bliss  "Rolls  o'er  Elysian  flowers  her  amber  stream";  and  Gray's 
Progress  of  Poesy,  11.  3,  "  Maeander's  amber  waves."  Exactly 
similar  is  Horace's  phrase  'the  yelloAV  Tiber,'  vidimus flavum 
Tiberim  {Od.  i.  2.  13),  and  in  Matthew  Arnold's  Sohrab  and 
Pusttcjn,  "The  yellow  Oxus."  In  these  cases  the  adjective 
certainly  adds  to  the  picturesqueness  of  the  narrative  ;  and  it 
may  be  literally  true,  because  the  tint  of  the  river  is  affected  by 


112  COMUS. 

the  soil  of  the  land  through  which  it  flows.  Of  course,  Sabrina 
herself  will  have  amber  hair  to  symbolise  the  river-waves. 

Some  editors  take  amber = ambergris  (the  perfume),  as  in 
Samson  Agofiistes,  720,  and  compare  105,  106. 

dropping.  It  has  been  objected  that  Sabrina  is  still  beneath 
the  water,  where  there  could  not  be  "drops";  but  the  general 
sense  may  be  simply  '  wet,  dripping  with.' 

865.  lake;  a  complimentary  description  of  the  broad  Severn. 
Cf.  lacus  used  of  the  Tiber  in  yEtieid,  viii.  74. 

867.  Note  that,  as  Sabrina  is  a  river-goddess,  the  invocation 
mentions  only  deities  of  the  waters,  and  that  each  is  described  in 
terms  taken  direct  from  the  classics,  more  especially  from  Homer. 
It  may  seem  a  little  inappropriate  that  a  British  river-nymph 
should  be  associated  so  closely  with  Greek  and  Latin  divinities, 
but  Milton  has  forestalled  the  objection  by  placing  ''this  Isle" 
(Britain)  under  the  charge  of  the  classical  deity  Neptune  and 
his  "tributary  gods"  (18 — 29). 

868.  /;/  name  of^  i.e.  we  implore  you  in  the  name  of. 
These  lines  (867—889)  are  the  "adjuring  verse"  (858). 

great  Occanns.  The  god  of  the  i-ivcr  Oceanus  supposed  by  the 
ancients  to  encircle  the  world;  called  "the  Atlantic  stream^''  in 
97,  the  epithet  '  Atlantic '  being  applied  in  classical  writers  to  this 
great  river  or  sea  of  the  west.  He  is  addressed  first  as  being  "the 
father  of  all  streams," //2W,  xiv.245.  great.  The  ei)ithets  applied 
to  him  in  the  Iliad  emphasise  his  power;  cf.  xxi.  195:  "the 
great  strength  of  deep-flowing  Ocean,  from  whom  all  rivers  flow." 

869.  earth-shaking.  In  Homer,  the  Greek  god  of  the  sea, 
Poseidon,  is  'the  earlh-shaker'  {KLvi]Tr\p  705,  kwoai'^o.io'i^  ivoai- 
X^wv),  "cither  because  he  is  the  lord  of  earthquakes  or  simply 
because  the  waves  of  the  sea  are  for  ever  beating  the  land  " — 
Leaf.  Neptune  being  idenlified  in  the  Roman  poets  with  the 
Greek  deity,  "  all  the  attributes  of  the  latter  are  transferred 
to  the  former" — Classical  Dictionary. 

f/iace,  i.e.  the  trident  (27)  which  he  used  as  sceptre.  For  mace= 
'sceptre'  cf.  Henry  V.  iv.  r.  278,  "the  mace,  the  crown  imperial." 

870.  "  Tethys,  the  wife  of  Oceanus,  and  mother  of  the 
gods  (sec  Iliad,  xiv.  201),  may  well  be  supposed  to  have  a  grave^ 
majestic  pace,  and  Hesiod  calls  her  tlie  venerable  Tcthys ; 
Theogony,  368" — Neivfon. 

871.  hoary  ...wrinkled;  cf.  "</^'t</ Ncicus,"  835. 


NOTES.  113 

872.  Referring  to  Proteus,  Carpathian ;  he  dwelt  in  the 
isle  of  Carpathos,  between  Rhodes  and  Crete,  wizard ;  he  had 
the  power  of  foreseeing  events  and  of  changing  his  shape 
(hence  Protean  — z\\\i\\\\^,  changeable).  Homer  calls  him  "in- 
fallible" {vnfjLepTTjs)  and  "that  ancient  one  of  the  magic  arts" 
(Odj'ssejf,  IV.  349,  460).  /look,  i.e.  shepherd's  hook  (cf.  L}'c. 
120),  because  Proteus  was  shepherd  of  the  flocks  (seals)  of 
Poseidon. 

873.  Triton;  he  acted  as  the  trumpeter  or  herald  of  the 
marine  deities,  summoning  or  dismissing  their  assemblies  with 
his  "winding  shell"  {concha)  or  trumpet.  In  the  lower  part  of 
his  body  he  resembled  a  fish:  hence  "scaly."  windings- 
'ci-ooked, '  'curling;'  cf.  Wordsworth's  line,  "Or  hear  old 
Triton  blow  his  wreathed  horn,"  from  the  sonnet  "The  world 
is  too  much  with  us."  But  'sounding'  is  a  possible  sense;  we 
speak  of  '  winding  a  horn.'  So  Keats  calls  him  "shell-winding 
Triton,"  Etidytnion,  II.     See  Lye.  89. 

874.  Glaucus ;  the  Boeotian  fisherman  who  eating  of  a 
certain  herb  became  metamorphosed  into  a  sea-god.  He,  too, 
like  many  sea-deities,  possessed  the  gift  of  pi'ophesying ;  hence 
"soothsaying"  and  "spell."  He  was  associated  with  the  ex- 
pedition of  the  Argonauts,  having  built  the  ship  Argo. 

875.  Milton  alludes  to  Ino,  daughter  of  Cadmus  {Odyssey, 
^'*  333 — 335)»  wife  of  Athamas,  by  whom  she  had  two  sons. 
Athamas  in  a  fit  of  madness  killed  one  son  ;  she  with  the  other 
plunged  into  the  sea,  and  became  a  sea-goddess,  under  the  name 
Lencothea  {XevKo's,  white -l-^ed,  a  goddess). 

"  She,  being  Lencothea  or  the  white  goddess,  may  well  be 
supposed  to  have  lovely  hands,  which  I  presume  the  poet 
mentioned  in  opposition  to  Thetis'  feet  afterwards" — Newton. 
There  is,  indeed,  a  direct  allusion  to  her  hands  in  Odyssey,  v. 
462. 

876.  her  son  ;  Melicertes;  after  his  deification  he  was  called 
Paloemon,  whom  the  Romans  identified  with  Portumnus,  the 
god  of  harbours  (Lat.  portiis,  a  harbour). 

877.  Thetis ;  one  of  the  Nereids,  wife  of  Peleus  and  mother 
of  Achilles. 

tifisel-slippered,  with  flashing  feet ;  a  variation  of  Homer's 
epithet  for  Thetis,  viz.  dpyvpoire^a,  'silver-footed,'  which  Milton 
perhaps    avoided    using    because    it    had    become    hackneyed. 

V.  c.  8 


114  COM  US. 

Browne  had  already  written  in  Britannia's  Pasfofals,  book  ii  : 
"When  Triton's  trumpet  (with  a  shrill  command) 
Told  silver-footed  Thetis  was  at  hand"; 
and  Ben  Jonson  had  used  silver-footed  more  than  once  in  his 
Masques  (e.g.  in  Neptune's  Triumph  and  Pans  Anniversary). 
Tinsel  suggests  a  silvery,  flashing  surface,  such  as  that  of 
the  shining  cloth  called  tinsel,  to  which  the  Elizabethans  often 
refer.  Hero's  wedding-dress  in  Much  Ado  About  Nothing,  ill. 
4.  22,  was  trimmed  with  tinsel.     F.  ('tincelle,  a  spark. 

879.  Parthenope ;  one  of  the  Sirens  (cf.  253);  said  to  have 
been  buried  at  Naples.  Her  name  occurs  as  a  synonym  of 
Naples.  Thus  Wordsworth,  in  the  line  sonnet  composed  on 
the  eve  of  Scott's  voyage  to  Italy,  writes 

"  Be  true, 
Ye  winds  of  ocean,  and  the  midland  sea, 
Wafting  your  charge  to  soft  Parthenope." 
So  in  Landor's  Thoughts  of  Fiesole: 

"Sorrento  softer  tale  may  tell, 
Parthenope  sound  louder  shell." 

880.  Ligea;  another  of  the  Sirens;  appropriately  named 
Xt7e/a= 'shrill-voiced.'  The  reference  to  her  "soft  alluring 
locks  "  may  have  been  suggested  by  Vergil,  who  describes  Ligea 
and  several  sea-nymphs  "with  their  bright  locks  flowing  over 
their  white  necks"  {^Georgics,  iv.  337).  Otherwise,  as  Masson 
notes,  it  is  rather  the  mermaids  of  northern  mythology  who 
comb  their  tresses,  like  the  faithless  wife  in  Matthew  Arnold's 
Forsaken  Mer?nan,  and  Tennyson's  JMermaid. 

881.  diamond  rocks ;  see  732,  note. 

882.  sleeking.  Cf.  Tennyson's  description  of  the  shepherds 
tending  the  dead  Paris,  "One  raised  the  Prince,  one  sleek'd  the 
squalid  hair  "  ( The  Death  of  (Enone). 

883.  884.     Cf.  Arcades,  96,  97. 

885.  How  exquisitely  the  d()ul)le  alliteration  suggests  the 
effort  of  rising. 

heave,  lift.  Cf.  V Allegro,  145,  "That  Orpheus'  self  may 
heave  his  head."  So  in  Par.  Lost,  i.  211;  Samson  Agonistes, 
197. 

886.  coral-paven.  Paven  did  not  necessarily  imjily  artificial 
work.  The  "paved  fountain  "  in  A  Midsummer- A^ight^ s  Dream 
II.  I.  84  was  "a  fountain  with  pebbly  bottom"  (Clarendon  Press 


NOTES.  I  I  5 

ed.  of  that  play).  Here  the  floor  of  the  river-bed  is  supposed  to 
be  of  coral. 

Sabrina  rises.  From  the  stage-directions  in  other  Masques 
it  may  be  inferred  that  the  appearance  of  the  river-goddess  would 
be  effected  as  in  a  modern  theatre.  Part  of  the  centre  of  the 
stage  would  be  displaced,  and  through  the  aperture  the  goddess 
would  rise,  seated  in  her  car  and  surrounded  by  a  group  of 
nymphs  in  picturesque  dresses.  The  introduction  in  this  way 
of  deities — especially  deities  of  the  sea  or  rivers — was  a  favourite 
device  with  Masque-writers,  as  it  gave  scope  for  the  skill  of 
Inigo  Jones,  the  great  architect,  who  often  designed  the  scenery 
and  stage-mechanism  of  Masques. 

890.  rushy-fringed.  A  specimen  of  what  Earle  calls 
the  'literary'  compound;  that  is  to  say,  the  composite  word 
created  purely  for  picturesque  effect  and  confined  to  literature. 
He  notes  that  Milton,  Keats  and  Tennyson  are  conspicuous  for 
their  use  of  this  artifice  of  language.  Cf.  "flowery-kirtled,"  254 ; 
in  each  the  simpler  compound  would  be  with  a  noun,  not 
adjective — e.g.  '  r^/j^-fringed.' 

893.  agate.  Derived  from  the  name  of  the  river  Achates 
in  Sicily,  where  it  is  said  the  agate  was  first  found. 

aztirn,  sky-blue ;  see  G. 

894.  hirkis,  turquoise;  see  G. 

895.  The  line  illustrates  Milton's  way  of  always  correcting 
his  work  for  the  better.  In  the  Ca??ibridge  MS.  the  verse  runs : 
"That  my  rich  wheel  inlays."  This  is  practically  a  repetition 
of  the  previous  couplet,  and  we  miss  the  pretty  idea  in  "  strays." 
With  the  cancelled  line  cf.  Far.  Lost,  iv.  701. 

897.  printless,  that  leave  no  mark.  From  The  Tempest, 
V.  34: 

"And  ye  that  on  the  sands  with  printless  feet 
Do  chase  the  ebbing  Neptune." 

898.  velvet;  soft  as  velvet;  one  of  the  stock  epithets  of 
"poetic  diction."  Criticising  the  phrase  "IdaHa's  velvet-green" 
(i.e.  smooth  lawn)  in  Gray's  Progress  of  Poesy,  Johnson  said: 
"an  epithet  or  metaphor  drawn  from  Nature  ennobles  Art; 
an  epithet  or  metaphor  drawn  from  Art  degrades  Nature." 

899.  Vergil  had  said  much  the  same  thing  of  Camilla,  and 
others  have  said  it  since. 

903.     The  metre  employed  from  this  point  to  the   end  is 

8—2 


Il6  COMUS. 

much  used  in  the  Masques  of  Ben  Jonson  and  other  Masque- 
writers;  perhaps  because  it  lent  itself  easily  to  musical  recitative. 
Cf.  many  of  the  fairy-speeches  in  A  Midsummer-Night'' s  Dream. 

904.     Cf.  852,  853. 

907.     zinblessed,  zwx'S^Q.A;  cf.  571. 

908 — 921.  The  editors  have  noticed  here,  and  indeed 
throughout  the  last  part  of  Comus,  echoes  of  The  Faithful 
Shepherdess.     Doubtless,  Milton  had  read  Fletcher's  Pastoral. 

912.    fountain,  i.e.  the  river's  source,  where  its  water  is  purest. 

914.     Thrice ;  always  a  significant  number. 

916.     Cf.  "enchanted  chair"  in  the  stage  direction  at  658. 

918.  7?ioisi,  i.e.  with  the  "drops  from  her  fountain  pure" 
(912).  cold;  in  antithesis  to  the  last  line  ("heat"),  and  im- 
plying 'chaste.' 

919.  his,  its.  We  must  suppose  that  during  lines  911-  -91S 
the  Lady  gradually  indicates  her  recovery  of  freedom. 

921.     Amphitrite;  wife  of  Poseidon  (Neptune)  and  goddess 
of  the  sea.     The  name  often  stands  for  'the   sea.'     Compare 
Shelley's  Lines  icritten  among  the  Euganean  Hills: 
"Underneath  day's  azure  eyes 
Ocean's  nursling,  Venice,  lies, 
Amphitrite's  destined  halls." 

923.  Anchises' line.  The  legendary  genealogy  being :  An- 
chises  father  of  ^neas  ;  ^Eneas  father  of  Ascanius ;  Ascanius  of 
Silvius;  Silvius  of  Brutus  ;  Brutus  of  Locrine.     Cf.  827,  828. 

924 — 937.     This  invocation  is   in   the   manner   of  pastoral 
verse.     In  Browne's  Britannia's  Pasto7-als,    i.   2,  the  friendly 
nymph  of  a  stream  receives  the  same  kind  of  blessings.     But 
if  a  river  proved  unkind — e.g.  drowned   the  poet's  friend — it 
was  covered  with  curses.    Thus  we  find  an  imprecation  upon  the 
Cam  in  Phineas  Fletcher's  Piscatorie  Eclogues,  11.  23: 
"Let  never  myrtle  on  thy  banks  delight — 
Let  dirt  and  mud  thy  lazie  waters  seize, 
Thy  weeds  still  grow,  thy  waters  still  decrease." 

924.  brimmed,  full  to  the  river's  brim.  Tennyson's  "  Brook" 
fltnvs  along  "To  join  the  brimming  river." 

927.  liills.     The  Welsh  mi)untains  where  the  Severn  rises. 

928.  singed  air ^  i.e.  the  torrid  air  of  Midsummer  when  the 
dog-star  prevails.  Cf.  Lye.  138,  note.  The  participle  has  an 
active  force  =  ' singeing,  i.e.  scorching.' 


NOTES.  117 

929.  tresses;  "the  foliage  of  the  trees  and  shrubs  along  the 
banks" — Dr  Bradshaw. 

931.  The  water  of  the  river  is  likened  to  liquefied  crystal. 

932.  billows.  By  this  time  Milton  has  traced  the  Severn 
down  to  Gloucester,  where  it  becomes  an  arm  of  the  sea,  and  as 
such  may  be  said  to  have  '  billows.'  "Severn  Sea''''  is  a  common 
local  name  for  the  upper  part  of  the  Bristol  Channel. 

933.  beryl ;  a  yellow  crystal.  L.  berylhis  (Gk.  ^-qpvWos), 
whence  F.  br/ller= to  sparkle  like  a  beryl. 

934.  I  think  now  that  lo/ly  head  must  be  taken  literally  of 
the  river's  source  contrasted  with  its  banks  {936)— the  general 
sense  being,  'May  many  a  tower  and  terrace  (i.e.  some  great  city) 
encircle,  like  a  crown,  your  source  in  the  Welsh  hills,  and  may 
groves  adorn  your  banks  at  intervals  along  your  course  to  the  sea.' 

Some  interpret  head  of  the  river  itself,  not  merely  its  source  ; 
compare  Dr  Bradshaw's  paraphrase :  "May  you  be  crowned  with 
many  a  tower  and  terrace  on  your  lofty  sides,  and  here  and  there 
with  groves  of  myrrh  on  the  banks."  But  surely  "  on  your  lofty 
sides"  is  the  same  as  "on  the  banks,"  whereas  some  contrast 
between  head  and  banks  seems  to  be  intended. 

The  metaphor  in  934,  935  suggests,  possibly  was  suggested 
by,  the  phrase  aT€(/)dv(a/xa  irvpyuv, '  the  encircling  towers,'  litei-ally 
'the  crown  of  towers'  (round  Thebes),  in  the  Antigone,  121,  of 
Sophocles.  Here  the  metaphor  gains  appropriateness  from  the 
fact  that  the  river  is  personified  as  a  maiden. 

936,  937'  Strictly  dependent  on  the  construction  in  934,  935, 
i.e.  'and  may  thy  head  be  crowned  with  groves  upon  thy  banks.' 
But  from  thy  head  we  can  easily  supply  thoti=  ^msiy?,i  thou  be 
crowned  with  groves  upon  thy  banks. ' 

937.  The  landscape  is  obviously  ideal,  "  groves  of  myrrh  and 
cinnamon  "  being  common  enough  in  the  land  of  poetic  fancy, 
but  not  found  in  the  West  of  England. 

942.     waste,  unnecessary;  cf.  "waste  fertility,"  729. 

945.  this  gloomy  covert,  i.e.  the  wood  in  which  the  "stately 
palace"  of  Comus  lay.  Either  the  scene  is  still  in  this  palace, 
but  the  stage  is  so  arranged  that  the  wood  can  be  seen  outside  ; 
or  there  has  been  some  change  of  scenery  so  as  to  represent  the 
original  wood  again  instead  of  the  interior  of  the  palace. 

949.  gratulate,  welcome;  cf.  "And  gratulate  his  safe  return 
to  Rome,"  Titiis  Andronicus,  I.  221. 


Il8  COMUS. 

then  come  in  Conntiy  Dancers.  Technically  this  is  the 
second  Anti-viasque ;  the  first  being  the  "monstrous  rout"  at 
line  92. 

958)  959'     A  variation  on  V Allegro,  97,  98. 

960.     i.e.  not  in  the  rude  style  of  a  peasants'  dance. 

962.  coii7-t  guise,  i.e.  an  elegant  bearing  such  as  befits  a 
dance  like  the  pavajie  or  minuet. 

964.  mincing,  moving  with  dainty  steps  ;  F.  mince,  'dainty, 
neat.'  Editors  refer  to /$•i^/V^/^  iii.  16.  Z>;;;'rt'rt'<?5  =  wood-nymphs  ; 
from  5/)Dj,  an  oak.    With  the  rhyme,  cf.  Lye.  154 — 156. 

965.  lawns;  see  568. 

Song.  No  doubt  there  were  dances  ("other  trippings") 
before  and  after  it.  Characters  not  named  would  take  part  in 
them,  as  well  as  the  Lady,  the  two  Brothers  and  the  Spirit. 

966.  For  the  actors  to  come  forward  and  address  some 
member,  or  members,  of  the  audience  was  not  unusual  in  Masques. 
Thus  in  Shirley's  Triumph  of  Peace  the  chorus  twice  advance 
to  the  front  of  the  stage  and  salute  the  king  and  queen. 

970.  timely,  early;  as  always  in  Shakespeare;  cf.  The 
Comedy  of  Errors,  I.  i.  139,  "happy  were  I  in  my  timely 
death." 

972.     assays,  trials,  tests;  see  G. 

976 — 980.  The  metrical  and  general  resemblance  of  these 
verses  to  The  Tempest,  v.  i  ("  Where  the  bee  sucks  "),  has  often 
been  noticed.  It  is  to  me  clear  that  from  line  976  to  the  close 
Milton's  conception  of  the  Attendant  Spirit  owed  much  to 
Shakespeare's  Ariel,  and  to  Puck  in  A  Alidstivimcr-Night' s 
Dream.  As  already  explained,  the  Epilogue  spoken  at  the  actual 
performance  of  Covins  began  at  line  1012.  Lines  976 — 1011 
had  been  used  at  the  outset. 

976.  the  ocean;  the  regular  classical  term  for  the  great  sea  of 
the  west  (the  Atlantic)  in  which  tradition  placed  the  "happy 
isles... thrice  happy  isles"  {Par.  Lost  iii.  567)  containing  the 
Gardens  of  the  Hesperides. 

977 — 979-  ^•^'  those  happy  regions  where  the  sun  ever 
shines  in  the  broad  heaven. 

clitne;  see  G.  'Eye  of  day,  or  heaven'  is  a  favourite  phrase 
for  the  sun  in  Elizabethan  poetry.  Cf.  Milton's  Sonnet  to  the 
nightingale,  "Thy  liquid  notes  that  close  the  eye  of  day."  Line 
979  is  practically  from  Vergil,  /Eneid,  vi.  887. 


NOTES.  119 

980.  There;  in  those  "  happy  cHmes."  liqtcid,  clear,  bi-il- 
liant  (Lat.  liqzddus). 

982.  Hesperus ;  see  393 — 396,  note. 

983.  golden;  transferred  from  the  apples  to  the  tree  itself. 

984.  crisped,  i.e.  by  the  wind  ruffling  the  leaves;  more  often 
applied  to  a  breeze  stirring  the  surface  of  water,  as  in  Childe 
Harold  iv.  211,  "I  would  not  their  vile  breath  should  crisp 
the  stream." 

985.  spruce,  dainty,  prettily  adorned,  i.e.  with  flowers  etc. 

986.  Graces,  Lat.  Gratics,  Gk.  xa/aires;  three  goddesses 
(Euphrosyne,  Aglaia,  Thalia)  who  personified  the  refinements 
and  elevated  joys  of  life. 

Hours,  Lat.  HorcE,  Gk.  wpat;  goddesses  personifying  the 
seasons  of  the  year;  the  course  of  the  seasons  was  symbolically 
described  as  "the  dance  of  the  Hora"  (cf.  Par.  Lost,  v.  394, 
395).  Classical  writers  often  mention  them  along  with  the 
Graces.  The  Graces  and  Hours  were  favourite  allegorical 
dramatis  personce  in  Masques. 

rosy-bosomed;  Gk.  poboKoXiros.    Cf.  Gray,  Ode  on  the  Spring, 
"  Lo !    where  the  rosy-bosom'd  Hours, 
Fair  VeAus'  train,  appear"; 
and  Thomson,  "the  rose-bosomed  Spring"  {Spring,  loio). 

A  very  notable  feature  of  English  poetry  from  the  Restoration 
to  (about)  the  French  Revolution,  i.e.  during  the  period  beginning 
with  Dryden  and  ending  with  Johnson  (died  1784),  is  the 
great  influence  of  the  diction  of  Milton's  poems,  especially  the 
minor  poems.  In  Dryden  and  Pope,  Collins  and  Gray  and 
Thomson,  and  the  minor  writers,  we  are  struck  by  constant 
echoes  of  H Allegro  and  II  Penseroso,  Lycidas  and  Cofnus — 
thanks,  no  doubt,  to  their  extreme  verbal  felicity,  their  fulfilment 
of  Coleridge's  definition  of  poetry  as  the  right  words  in  the  right 
places. 

989.  west  winds,  the  'Zephyrs'  of  classical  poetry;  tradition- 
ally the  fragrance-laden  winds;  cf.  again  Gray's  Ode  on  the 
Spring : 

"While,  whisp'ring  pleasure  as  they  fly, 
Cool  Zephyrs  thro'  the  clear  blue  sky 
Their  gather 'd  fragrance  fling." 

990.  cedarn  alleys,  paths  bordered  by  cedar  trees,  cedarn  ; 
formed   from   the   noun,    i.e.   cedar-n,    like    silver-n,   Icather-n. 


I20  COM  US. 

Now  purely  poetic;  cf.  Matthew  Arnold,  The  New  Sirens,  "'IIh' 
slumb'rous  cedarn  shade." 

991.  Cf.  "All  thy  garments  smell  of  myrrh,  and  aloes, 
and  cassia,"  Psalm  xlv.  8. 

iiat'd,  spikenard  (i.e.  spiked  nard,  nardtis  spicatus),  a  fragrant 
Indian  root.  The  word  comes  from  Sanskrit  nal,  to  smell. 
Probably  the  Jews  got  the  perfume  and  its  name  through  the 
Persians,  cassia,  a  spice  of  the  nature  of  cinnamon,  as  in  the 
Bible.     Cassia  is  now  used  of  an  extract  of  laurel-bark. 

992.  Iris;  the  goddess  of  the  rainbow  (cf  "bow")  and 
messenger  of  the  gods,  especially  of  Juno.  Cf.  the  '  Masque'  in 
T/ie  Ten  I  pest. 

993.  blow.,  make  to  bloom ;  rarely  transitive.     vSee  Lye.  48. 
994 — 997.     On  the  rhymes  see  511,  512,  note. 

purpled,  embroidered;  see  G.     Elysian,  heavenly;  see  257. 

997.  if  your  ears  be  true,  "i.e.  if  you  have  minds  fine 
enough  to  perceive  the  real  meaning  of  the  legends  I  am  about 
to  cite" — Masso7i. 

These  legends  of  Venus  and  Adonis,  Cupid  and  Psyche,  have 
often  been  treated  from  a  mundane,  indeed  sensual  point  of 
view;  whereas  we  ought  to  see  in  them  an  elevated,  spiritual 
significance  which  is  hidden  from  those  whose  vision  is  dimmed 
by  sin.     Such  seems  the  general  bearing  of  the  passage. 

999 — 1002.  The  legend  of  Adonis,  the  youth  beloved  by  the 
Greek  goddess  Aphrodite  (  =  the  Roman  goddess  Venus),  was 
that  he  was  killed  in  the  chase  by  a  wild  boar,  mourned  for  by 
Aphrodite,  and  at  last,  in  consideration  of  her  sorrow,  suffered 
by  the  gods  of  the  lower  world  to  spend  six  months  in  every  year 
upon  earth  with  her.  His  yearly  return  to  earth  was  celebrated 
by  religious  rites  such  as  Theocritus  describes  in  the  xvth  Idyl. 
Usually  the  legend  is  explained  as  being  a  symbolisation  of  the 
annual  return  of  spring:  "in  the  Asiatic  religions  Aphrodite  was 
the  fructifying  principle  of  nature,  and  Adonis  appears  to  have 
reference  to  the  death  of  nature  in  winter  and  its  revival  in 
spring — hence  he  si)ends  six  months  in  the  lower  and  six  in  the 
upper  world" — Classical  Dictionary.  In  fact  Adonis  was  re- 
garded as  the  god  of  the  vSolar  year. 

The  story  is  of  Phcenician  origin,  Atlonis  ])eing  the  same  as 
Tammuz  ('Sun  of  Life')  mentioned  in  Ezckiclv'm.  14,  "behold, 
there  sat  women  weeping  for  Tammuz."    See  the  fuller  reference 


NOTES.  121 

in  Far,  Lost,  l.  446 — 452,  and  Nativity  Ode,  204,  "  In  vain  the 
Tyrian  [Phcenician]  maids  their  wounded  Thamnmz  mourn," 

His  yearly  six  months  on  earth  were  supposed  to  be  spent  in 
the  'Garden  of  Adonis,'  which  became  a  synonym  of  an  ex- 
quisitely lovely  spot  like  the  Garden  of  Eden.  The  chief 
reference  to  it  in  the  classics  is  in  Pliny's  Natural  History, 
XIX.  4.  The  allusion  is  a  favourite  with  poets.  See  Par.  Lost, 
IX.  439,  440;  I  Henry  VI.  I.  6.  7;  Spenser's  ^ww^  in  Honour 
of  Love,  22 — 28 ;  Keats's  Endymioti,  Ii. ;  and  above  all,  The 
Faerie  Qiteene,  III.  6.  29 — 49,  which  Milton  had  undoubtedly 
in  his  thoughts  here.  For  like  Milton  Spenser  treats  the  story 
as  an  allegory  of  the  immortality  of  love  and  says  (ill.  6.  46 — 48) 
that  after  his  restoration  to  Hfe  Aphrodite  would  not  let  Adonis 
descend  to  the  nether  world  but  kept  him  in  the  'Garden.' 

Milton  has  not,  I  believe,  any  classical  authority  for  associ- 
ating the  Gardens  of  Adonis  and  of  the  Hesperides,  but  his 
purpose  here  is  to  bring  together  all  the  most  beautiful  things 
in  nature  of  which  classical  legend  tells,  and  thus  form  an  ideal 
region,  a  paradise  of  perfect  loveliness.  And  he  exercises  the 
privilege  of  making  the  classics  serve  his  poetic  purpose. 

Lines  999 — 1002  remind  us  of  Tennyson's  picture  in  the 
Palace  of  Art  of  King  Arthur  after  his  "  passing  "  to  the  island- 
valley  : 

"Or  mythic  Uther's  deeply-wounded  son 
In  some  fair  space  of  sloping  greens 
Lay,  dozing  in  the  vale  of  Avalon, 

And  watch 'd  by  weeping  queens." 

1000,      Waxitig,  growing.      Cf.  Germ,  ivachsen,  to  grow. 

1002.  the  Assyrian  qtieen,  i.e.  Aphrodite,  whose  "  worship 
was  of  Eastern  origin,  and  probably  introduced  by  the  Phoenicians 
to  the  islands  of  Cyprus,  Cythera  and  others,  from  whence  it 
spread  all  over  Greece.  She  apj^ears  to  have  been  originally 
identical  with  Astarte,  called  by  the  Hebrews  Ashtoreth,  and 
her  connection  with  Adonis  clearly  points  to  Syria" — Classical 
Dictionary.     Identical  with  the  Assyrian  goddess  /star. 

1003 — ion.  He  passes  to  a  yet  more  spiritual  love:  not 
on  earth,  as  that  of  Adonis  and  Aphrodite,  but  in  heaven  itself. 

The  myth  of  Psyche  is  an  allegory  of  the  human  soul 
{^^X^)  which,  after  undergoing  trials  and  tortures,  is  purified 
by  pain   and   eventually  reaches   happiness  and   rest.     Milton 


122  COMUS. 

wished  to  emphasize  the  sanctity  of  love  still  more,  by  showing 
that  there  is  a  place  for  it  among  the  gods.  "Comus,"  says 
Masson,  "had  misapprehended  Love,  knew  nothing  of  it  except 
its  vile  counterfeit... had  been  outwitted  and  defeated.  But  there 
is  true  Love,  and  it  is  to  be  found  in  Heaven,"  The  idea  is  well 
illustrated  by  Par.  Lost,  VIII.  615 — 629,  where  Adam  questions 
the  archangel  Raphael — "Love  not  the  Heavenly  Spirits?" — 
and  receives  the  reply — "without  Love  no  happiness." 

No  doubt  Milton  was  influenced  by  that  conception  of  Divine 
Love  of  which  Plato  treats  in  the  Phccdrus  and  elsewhere.  The 
story  of  Cupid  and  Psyche  is  applied  in  much  the  same  way  by 
Spenser,  The  Faerie  Qucene,  HI.  6.  49,  50.  See  also  Keats's 
Ode  to  Psyche. 

1003.  Cf.  Midsummer- Night'' s  Dream,  ii.  i.  29,  "By  foun- 
tain clear  or  spangled  starlight  sheen."  sheen;  akin  to  Germ. 
schon,  beautiful. 

1004.  advanced,  raised  aloft. 

loii.  Youth  and  Joy.  Later  in  life  Milton  made  Virtue 
and  Knowledge  the  offspring  of  pure  Love ;  see  note  on  784 
—  787.  "  Editors  find  a  reason  for  this  in  the  greater  gravity  of 
spirit  which  eight  years  had  brought  upon  Milton  " — Masson. 

1012.     A  series  of  reminiscences  of  Shakespeare  ;  cf.  A  Mid- 
summer-Night''s  Dream,  iv.   i.    102,    103,  where   Oberon  says: 
"We  the  globe  can  compass  soon;"   and  ii.    i.    175,    Puck's 
words,  "I'll  put  a  girdle  round  about  the  earth,"  i.e.  .make  the 
circuit  of  the  universe;  and  Macbeth,  111.  5.  23,  24: 
"  Upon  the  corner  of  the  moon 
There  hangs  a  vaporous  drop  profound." 
There  and  here  (1017)  corner  =^\iox\\''  (Lat.  cormi),  as  in  corniux 
lunce;  cf.  Vergil's  third  Georgic,  433. 

10 1 4.  the  green  earth's  end;  meaning  probably  the  Cape 
Verd  Islands — Sympson.  Cf.  Par.  Lost,  viii.  631,  "Beyond 
the  Earth's  green  Cape  and  verdant  Isles."  They  or  the  Canaries 
were  commonly  identified  by  the  Elizabethans  with  the  classical 
Hesperidum  Insulcc. 

10 1 5.  boxved,  because  in  any  landscape  the  horizon  appears 
to  comedown  to  the  earth,    welkin;  see  O.     slo7v,  i.e.  gradually. 

1018 — 1023.  These  lines  are  particularly  notable  as  sum- 
ming up  the  whole  teaching  of  the  poem.  The  special  aspect  of 
virtue  which  it  has  depicted  is,  of  course,  "saintly  chastity"  (453). 


NOTES.  123 

And  chastity  (the  Lady)  has  triumphed  over  the  temptations  of 
intemperance  (Comus),  through  its  own  "hidden  strength"  (418), 
and  through  supernatural  aid  (the  Attendant  Spirit  and  Sabrina)* 
such  as  the  Elder  Brother  spoke  of  (455,  456)  and  the  last  line  of 
the  Masque  promises. 

1019.  Ben  Jonson's  Pleasure  Reconciled  to  Virtue  {the  Masque 
in  which  Comus  appears)  ends  with  a  similar  song  in  praise  of 
Virtue. 

102 1,  sphery  clime.  Kx\.  allusion  to  the  notion,  said  to  have 
originated  with  Pythagoras  and  described  by  Plato  in  the 
Republic  (x.  616,  617),  of  the  "music  of  the  spheres."  As 
popularly  understood  and  referred  to,  it  was  that  the  rapid 
revolution  of  each  planet  in  its  "  sphere  "  or  orbit  (i.e.  a  circular 
space  round  the  central  earth)  produced  a  sound,  and  the  com- 
bination of  the  sounds  a  harmony.  Poetry  is  full  of  allusions  to 
"the  great  sphere-music  of  stars  and  constellations"  (Tennyson, 
Farnassus).  It  was  a  favourite  idea  with  Milton,  who  studied 
the  Ptolemaic  theory  of  the  "spheres"  deeply,  and  adopted  it 
for  the  astronomical  system  of  Par.  Lost.  Cf.  The  Nativity 
Ode,  125 — 132,  Ode  At  a  Solemn  Music,  and  Arcades,  62 — 73. 
Perhaps  Echo  was  called  "Daughter  of  the  sphere"  (241)  in 
allusion  to  the  music  of  the  spheres,  i.e.  as  though  she  had  her 
origin  in  it  and  were  part  of  it. 

sphery,  belonging  to  the  spheres. 

1023,  1024.  Masson  notes  that  an  interesting  personal  anec- 
dote is  associated  with  these  lines,  viz.  that  Milton  wrote  them, 
and  his  name,  in  the  autograph-book  (still  preserved)  of  a 
foreigner  whom  he  visited  in  June  1639  at  Geneva,  on  the  way 
home  from  his  travels  in  Italy. 


124  LYCIDAS. 


LYCIDAS. 

The  explanatory  sub-title  ("  Tn  this  Monody"  etc.)  first 
appeared  when  Lycidas  was  reprinted  in  1645.  ^^  doubt, 
Milton  added  it  then  for  two  reasons:  first,  because  to  the 
general  public,  who  had  never  heai-d  of  Edward  King,  the  point 
of  the  poem  would  not  be  very  clear  without  some  explanation 
of  the  peculiar  circumstances  which  led  to  its  composition; 
secondly,  because  in  1645  Milton  would  not  fear  to  announce 
openly  that  the  elegy  contained  an  attack  on  the  Church  and  a 
prophecy  of  its  downfall,  a  prediction  which  might  then  have 
been  considered  partially  fulfilled. 

Lycidas;  a  common  name  in  pastoral  poetry,  e.g.  of  the 
shepherd  who  shows  himself  so  skilled  a  singer  in  Theocritus, 
Idylvu.,  and  of  one  of  the  speakers  in  Vergil's  ninth  Eclogue. 
Note  the  appropriateness  of  the  names  introduced  throughout 
Lycidas;  many  are  specially  associated  with  the  pastoral  type 
of  verse  to  which  this  elegy  belongs. 

Monody.  "  A  species  of  poem  of  a  mournful  character,  in 
which  a  single  mourner  expresses  lamentation  " —  IVebsicr,  Gk. 
fxopudia,  from  (xovos,  alone  +  <^5rf,  a  song. 

Among  Sylvester's  Remains  is  an  elegy  On  Danic  Ilellen 
Branch  which  he  entitles  a  j\Io7iodia\  see  Grosart's  ed.  11.  329. 
West's  poem  on  the  death  of  Queen  Caroline  1737,  and  Mason's 
Musdus,  each  an  imitation  of  Lycidas,  were  described  in  the 
same  way;  and  Matthew  Arnold's   Thyrsis. 

by  occasion,  i.e.  incidentally,  taking  advantage  of  the  oppor- 
tunity. 

I,  2.  The  laurel  or  bay  (Lat.  laurns)  is  mentioned  first 
because  it  symbolises  poetry  in  general,  being  the  sacred  tree  of 
Apollo,  the  God  of  song.  Horace  says  that  Pindar  is  'all- 
deserving  of  Apollo's  hay,'  Ian rca  donandus  Apollinari  {Odes,  iv. 
2.  9).  Hence  laureate  =crov.-ned  with  laurel;  see  151.  The 
publisher's  preface  to  the  1645  edition  of  Milton's  poems  speaks 
of  them  as  "  evergreen  and  not  to  be  blasted  laurels." 

The  myrtle  and  ivy  symbolise  particular  aspects  of  poelry. 
Myrtle  is  specially  associated  with  the  laurel  by  classical  poets 


NOTES.  125 

(e.g.  Vergil,  Eclogue  ii.  54) ;  therefore  Milton  puts  it  next  to 
the  laurel.  As  the  flower  of  Venus,  myrtle  may  typify  love- 
poetry  (cf.  Horace,  Odes,  ill.  4.  18,  19) ;  here  it  harmonises 
with  the  affection  which  Lycidas  expresses  for  Milton's  lost 
friend.  Ivy  symbolises  poetry  on  the  side  of  learning ;  here  it 
typifies  the  wealth  of  classical  learning  in  which  Lycidas  is 
preeminent.  By  plucking  these  three  flowers,  as  if  to  weave 
of  them  a  poet's  garland  or  crown,  Milton  figures  his  return  to 
verse-writing,  and  glances  at  the  character  of  the  poem  he  is 
about  to  compose. 

Another  explanation  may  be  mentioned — that  Milton  gathers 
the  laurels,  etc.  (as  in  the  Epitaph  on  the  Marchioness  of 
Winchester,  57,  58)  to  lay  them  on  the  tomb  of  Lycidas,  in  fact 
to  strew  "the  laureate  hearse";  and  that  the  premature  plucking 
of  them  figures  the  premature  death  of  his  friend.  But  the  drift 
of  the  passage  (i — 7)  shows  that  Milton  is  thinking  less  of 
Edward  King  than  of  himself.  He  had  not  published  any  poetry 
for  some  years  ;  he  had  intended  to  keep  silence :  the  period  of 
preparation  for  the  poet's  office  of  which  he  often  speaks  was 
not  completed  :  but  the  death  of  his  fellow-student  forces  him 
to  break  through  this  reserve,  and  here  is  his  reason  for  doing 
so.  Note  that  in  this  same  year  he  had  indicated,  by  the 
quotation  on  the  title-page,  some  lothness  to  publish  Comus. 

1.  Yet  once  7nore.  Some  critics  would  limit  the  reference 
to  elegiac  compositions  such  as  Milton  had  written  in  the 
Death  of  a  fair  Infant  and  the  Epitaph  on  the  Marchioness  of 
Winchester.  But  he  probably  means  that  he  is  here  taking  up 
again  his  poet's  pen  which  had  not  been  at  work  on  any  kind 
of  poetry  since  1634,  when  Comns  was  written. 

Professor  Hales  well  remarks  that  the  plants  mentioned  in 
I — 2  are  not  funereal  emblems,  and  that  if  Milton  had  wanted 
such,  he  would  have  chosen  cypresses  or  flowers  "that  sad 
embroidery  wear"  (148). 

2.  drown  — dsirk,  as  the  leaves  of  the  myrtle  are.  '  Dusky' 
ipidta]  is  Horace's  ppitVipf  for  the  plant,     drown ;  see  G. 

never  se7'e,  i.e.  '  evergreen,' and  so  typical  of  "high  immortal 
verse,"  Coimis,  516.  sere;  see  G.  Cf.  Tennyson's  Ode  to 
Memory : 

"Those  peerless  flowers  which  in  the  rudest  wind 
Never  grow  sere." 


126  LYCIDAS. 

3.  crude,  unripe  ;  cf.  Comiis,  480. 

4.  forced,  unw  illing ;  it  represents  the  poet's  feeling,  while 
rude  represents  the  feeling  of  the  plants.  On  the  word-order 
see  Gonitis,  207,  note,  and  cf.  6,  42. 

6'//a//'^r=:  disturb  ;  cf.  Par.  Lost,  x.  1066,  67. 

Diello^ving ;  said  of  the  berries  rather  than  of  the  leaves. 
What  Milton  really  means  is  the  want  of  "inward  ripeness" 
(cf.  his  second  Sonnet)  in  himself  and  his  poetry. 

6.  Cf.  Keats's  Ode  to  Psyche : 

"O  Goddess!  hear  these  tuneless  numl)ers,  wrung 
By  sweet  enforcement  and  remembrance  dear." 
Spenser   was    moved    by    "  hard    constraint "    to   compose   his 
Pastorall   OEglogtie  on  Sir  Philip   Sidney.      Cf.    Par.  Lost,  X. 

131.    132- 

dear.  In  the  English  of  this  period  dear  "  is  used  of 
whatever  touches  us  nearly  either  in  love  or  hate,  joy  or 
sorrow,"  Clarendon  Press  note  on  LLamlet,  i.  'i.  182  ("my 
dearest  foe  in  heaven  ").  Shakespeare  often  applies  it  to  that 
which  is  strongly  disagreeable;  e.g.  in  LLenry  V.  ii.  2.  181, 
"all  your  dear  offences,"  i.e.  grievous.  The  sense  is  thought  to 
have  been  influenced  by  confusion  with  A.  S.  dcor,  grievous. 

7.  Compels.  The  singular  sounds  natural  since  constraint 
and  occasion  form  one  idea.  It  is  a  very  common  Elizabethan 
idiom.  Cf.  Milton's  Sonnet  to  Lawes,  5,  "  Thy  worth  and  skill 
exempts  thee  from  the  throng,"  i.e.  your  merit  as  man  and 
musician.  So  in  Troilus  and  Cressida,  iv.  5.  168,  170,  "faith 
and  troth... bids  thee."  See  Abbott's  Shakespeariati  Grammar, 
p.  239. 

ere  his  prime  ;  in  his  25th  year.  Cf.  the  account  of  Edward 
King  given  in  the  Cambridge  volume  in  which  Lycidas  is 
printed:  animam  deo  reddidit... anno  cetatis  xxv.  "  Complete  in 
all  things,  but  in  yeares,"  says  another  contributor  (Beaumont) 
to  the  same  collection. 

Q.     The  repetition  of  a  name  M'as  a  recognised  device  where- 
by to  heighten  the  pathetic  effect ;  cf.  Spenser's  Astrophcl,  7,  8: 
"  Young  Astrophel,  the  pride  of  shephcards  praise, 
Young  Astrophel,  the  rusticke  lasses  love." 

pet)',  i.e.  equal,  Lat.  par,  F.  pair.  "  Peers  are  properly  the 
chief  vassals  of  a  lord,  having  equal  rights  one  with  another  " — 
Brachct. 


NOTES.  127 

10.     The  line  is  from  Vergil,  Eclogue  X.  3. 

10,  II.  he  knew  Himself  to  sing.  Perhaps  a  poetic  ex- 
aggeration, to  increase  the  pathos  of  his  friend's  death.  Masson 
has  been  able  to  trace  only  a  few  pieces  of  Latin  verse  by 
Edward  King  contributed  to  different  collections  of  Cambridge 
poetry.  It  was  an  age,  however,  when  poets  circulated  their 
writings  in  MS  among  their  friends,  and  Milton  may  have  seen 
verses  by  King  which  did  not  find  their  way  into  print. 
Another  writer  in  the  volume  says  that  he  "  drest  the  Muses  in 
the  brav'st  attire  that  ere  they  wore";  so  that,  very  likely, 
Milton  had  some  ground  for  his  praise.  In  any  case,  tradition 
required  that  a  shepherd  should  'pipe'  and  sing. 

btiild;  an  imitation  of  the  figurative  use  of  Lat.  condere,  which 
means  (i)  to  put  together,  (2)  hence  to  construct,  build  (the 
ordinary  sense),  and  so  (3)  figuratively  to  compose,  e.g.  condere 
carmen^  to  compose  a  song,  poem  (Horace,  Epistles,  i.  3.  24). 
Editors  also  compare  the  figurative  use  of  Gk.  irvpyCocaL  (from 
TTvpySu})  =  to  raise  up  to  a  towering  height ;  cf.  7ri;p70s,  a  tower. 
Aristophanes  in  the  Frogs,  1004,  speaks  of  iEschylus  having 
used  majestic,  towering  phrases  {-rrvpydjcras  p-fifjiara  ae/jivd).  The 
Greek  phrase  implies  more  than  mere  composition  (Lat.  condere) ; 
it  connotes  elevated  "lofty"  diction.  No  doubt,  Milton  had 
both  coftdere  and  wvpyQaaL  in  mind  when  he  wrote  "build"  and 
"lofty." 

So  Coleridge  (in  the  Nightingale)  imitating  Milton  : 
"  And  many  a  poet  echoes  the  conceit, 
Poet  who  hath  been  building  up  the  rhyme." 
The  metaphor  is  put  even  more  boldly  in  Tennyson's  (Enone : 
"Hear  me,  for  I  will  speak,  and  build  up  all 
My  sorrow  with  my  song." 

12.  He  must  not,  it  is  not  right  that  he  should,  I  cannot 
let  him. 

bier;  because  the  waters  bear  the  body;  cf.  "float." 
Shelley  borrows  Milton's  phrase  and  applies  it  to  Venice  as 
resting  on  the  waves  that  surround  it ;  cf.  Lines  written  amo72g 
the  Euganean  Hills : 

"If  the  power  that  raised  thee  here, 
Hallow  so  thy  watery  bier." 
A.S.  h<kr,  a  bier,  and  beran^  to  carry,  are  akin  to  Lat.  feretrum^ 
a  bier  and  (piperpov. 


1 28  LYCIDAS. 

13.  weller  to,  i.e.  be  tossed  aV)out  at  the  will  of  {to)  the 
wind  ;  akin  to  wallo-iO,  to  roll  about.  Note  Milton's  favourite 
alliteration  {w...w)\  cf.   Comiis,  87,  88,  note. 

14.  Cf.  Coleridge's  lines  To  A  Friend: 

"Is  thy  Burns  dead? 
And  shall  he  die  unwept  and  sink  to  earth 
Without  the  meed  of  one  melodious  tear?" 
meed,  tribute  (implying  'well-deserved,  well-earned,'  i.e.  by 
his  merits  and  friendship);  cf.   84. 

so7ne  ;  in  reality,  he  had  a  whole  volume  of  laments. 
tear;  often  used  of  elegiac  compositions  (hence  "melodious"); 
probably  in  imitation  of  the  post-classical  use  of  lacrima. 
Cf.  Sylvester's  Monody  (Grosart,  ii.  339): 
"You  springs  of  Arts,  eyes  of  this  noble  Real  me, 
Cambridge  and  Oxford,  lend  your  learned  teares." 
The  same  writer's  poem  Lacrynue  is  called  on  the  title-page 
"The  Spirit  of  Teares."     Many  of  the  collections  of  elegiac 
verse  issued  by  the  Universities  bore  the  title  Lacryma. 

15.  Begin.  The  invocation  is  cast  in  the  pastoral  style. 
Cf.  Theocritus,  Idyl  I.  64,  ApX'^Te  ^wkoXikcls,  MQicraL  tpiXai, 
apxfT  doiSas,  "begin,  ye  Muses  dear,  begin  the  pastoral  song  !" 
And  the  refrain  of  Moschus's  Lament  for  Bion  is  "Begin,  ye 
Sicilian  Muses,  begin  the  dirge." 

15,  16.  The  "Sisters''  are  the  Nine  Muses:  the  "sacred 
well"  is  the  fountain  Aganippe  on  Mt  Helicon:  the  "seat  of 
Jove"  is  the  altar  on  the  hill  dedicated  to  Jove.  It  has  been 
shown  that  Milton  modelled  these  lines  upon  the  commencement 
of  the  Theogony  of  Ilesiod,  who  mentions  the  Kp-^vrjv  lo(LS^a...Kai 
^wfxbv  €pL<Tdev€o%  Kpoviuivoi  ('violet-coloured  spring  and  altar  of 
mighty  Zeus').  Milton  invented  the  detail  that  the  waters 
of  Aganippe  had  their  source  beneath  the  altar,  perhaps  to 
emphasise  the  sanctity  of  the  poet's  inspiration.  See  // 
Penscroso,  48. 

7i/<?//=  spring,  as  often  in  Spenser,  e.g.  Slu-p.  Cal.  April: 
"And  eke  you  Virgins  [the  Muses],  that  on  I'arnasse  dwell. 
Whence  floweth  Helicon,  the  learned  well." 

17.  sioecp ;  one  of  the  favourite  words  of  last  century 
writers;  cf.  Pope,  Cecilia's  Day,  or  Collins'  Otle  ZV/t*  Passions. 
Mrs  Browning  has  the  fine  line,  "The  poet's  star-tuned  harp 
to  sweep." 


NOTES.  129 

19.  vS'^  =  on  condition  that  I  mourn  for  Lycidas ;  cf.  ComuSy 
242. 

Mtise  =  onQ  who  is  inspired  by  the  Muses,  a  poet.  Prof. 
Hales  (in  ilhistration  of  Spenser,  Protkalamion,  159)  quotes 
Dryden's  Absalom  and  Ackiiophel,  i  : 

"Sharp-judging  Ariel,  the  muses'  friend. 
Himself  a  muse." 

20.  lucky ;  that  wish  me  good  fortune,  e.g.  vale^  vale  ('fare 
thee  well '),  and  requiescas  in  pace  ('  mayst  thou  rest  in  peace, ' 
cf.  22).  my  destined  urn,  the  grave  that  is  destined  for 
me. 

For  «r;z  =  tomb,  cf.  Herrick  (Grosart,  II.  219): 
"We  hence  must  go, 
Both  to  be  blended  in  the  urn, 
From  whence  there's  never  a  return." 
favour,  salute,  invoke  a  blessing  on.     Fifty  years  later  (1688) 
Dryden  wrote  the  famous  lines  on  Milton  ("Three   poets,  in 
three  distant   ages   born").      But    perhaps   the  noblest   poetic 
tributes  to  his  memory  are  Wordsworth's  great  Sonnet,  "  Milton  ! 
thou  shouldst  be  living  at  this  hour,"  and  Tennyson's  alcaic 
verses. 

21.  Cf.  Gray's  "passing  tribute  of  a  sigh,"  Elegy,  st.  xx. ; 
and  Macaulay's  beautiful  poem,  A  'Jacobite's  Epitaph: 

"Oh  thou,  whom  chance  leads  to  this  nameless  stone. 
From  that  proud  country  which  was  once  mine  own. 
By  those  white  cliffs  I  never  more  must  see. 
By  that  dear  language  which  I  speak  like  thee, 
Forget  all  feuds,  and  shed  one  English  tear 
O'er  English  dust.     A  broken  heart  lies  here." 

22.  shroud,  probably  in  its  usual  sense  *  winding-sheet'; 
cf.   "sable."     Some  editors  interpret  it  'grave.' 

^3 — 3^'  "Here  the  language  of  the  pastoral  is  used,  as  was 
the  rule  in  all  such  poems,  to  veil  and  at  the  same  time  express 
real  facts.  Milton  and  King  had  been  fellow-students  at  Christ's 
College,  Cambridge,  visiting  each  other's  rooms,  taking  walks 
together,  performing  academic  exercises  in  common,  exchanging 
literary  confidences;  all  which,  translated  into  the  language  of 
the  pastoral,  makes  them  fellow-shepherds,  who  had  driven 
their  flock  a-field  together  in  the  morning,  and  fed  it  all  day  by 
the  same  shades  and  rills,  not  without  mutual  ditties  on  their 

V.  C.  Q 


1 30  LYCIDAS. 

oaten  flutes,  when  sometimes  other  shepherds,  or  even  Fauns 
and  Satyrs,  would  be  listening" — Masson. 

In  fact,  a  writer  of  pastoral  verse  is  required  by  usage  to  say 
certain  things,  and  Milton  says  them.  He  introduces  "Fauns" 
because  Vergil  had  supplied  a  precedent.  Eclogue  vi.  ■27. 
There  are  "ditties"  because  a  shepherd  without  his  "oaten 
flute"  would  be  an  anomaly.  Damoetas  looks  on  because 
Meliboeus  does  so  in  Vergil's  seventh  Eclogue.  No  type  of 
poetry  is  more  conventional  and  bound  by  literary  tradition  than 
the  pastoral. 

23.  nursed:  cf.  the  common  way  of  describing  a  university 
as  the  alma  mater  of  a  student. 

25.  Together  both;  artfully  varied  in  27.  high  lawns,  pas- 
tures on  the  "hill"  (23).  lazuns ;  see  G.  Of  course  the 
landscape  is  ideal,  suggested  by  the  constant  and  appropriate 
mention  of  "  hills"  in  Theocritus's  pictures  of  Sicilian  shepherd- 
life.  Vergil  treats  Italian  scenery  in  the  same  imitative  manner 
in  his  pastoral  poems ;  see  note  on  40.  When  Milton  refers 
directly  to  Cambridge  and  the  peculiarly  flat  country  round,  he 
uses  no  complimentary  language ;  cf.  his  first  Latin  Elegy, 
II — 14,  where  he  specially  complains  of  the  lack  of  "woods" 
(39)  in  the  neighbourhood.  Tennyson  as  an  undergraduate  at 
Trinity  wrote  in  a  similar  strain  {Life,   i.  34). 

26.  A  glance  at  Milton's  own  habits.  Cf.  the  A pology  for 
Smectymmtus,  where  he  speaks  of  himself  as  "up  and  stirring,  in 
winter  often  ere  the  sound  of  any  bell  awake  men  to  labour,  or 
to  devotion ;  in  summer  as  oft  with  the  bird  that  first  rouses, 
or  not  much  tardier,  to  read  good  authors,"  P.IV.  iii.  112. 
Among  the  Milton  MSS  found  at  Netherby  Hall  in  Cumberland 
and  printed  by  the  Camden  Society  were  two  scraps  of  Latin 
verse,  one  of  which  is  in  praise  of  early  rising.     See  again  186. 

eyelids  of  the  Morn.  Cf.  Job  iii.  9  (where  the  marginal 
reading  is  the  correct  rendering  of  the  Hebrew  translated  in  the 
Authorised  Version  "the  dawning  of  the  day"),  and  xli.  18,  "his 
eyes  are  like  the  eyelids  of  the  morning."  This  beautiful  phrase 
has  been  borrowed  by  many  poets;  e.g.  by  Marlowe,  "Now, 
Phoebus,  ope  the  eyelids  of  the  day"  {yew  of  Malta,  11.  i.  59). 
Cf.  also  one  of  the  jfuvcnilia  of  Tennyson  (in  whose  early 
poems  there  are  many  Miltonic  echoes),  "ray-fringed  eyelids 
of  the  morn." 


NOTES.  131 

27.  drove,  i.e.  their  flocks.     Cf.  Gray's  Elegy,  st.  vii. 

28.  gray-Jly.  Some  kind  of  gnat  may  be  meant,  but  it  is 
hard  to  say  what.  Sir  Thomas  Browne  discusses  in  his  Vulgar 
Errors  (bk.  III.  chap,  xxvii.  sect.  10)  the  means  by  which  flies 
make  "that  noise  or  humming  sound,"  and  his  remarks  are 
equally  vague.  Cf.  Collins's  Ode  to  Evening,  reminiscent  of 
Milton  in  every  stanza: 

"Or  where  the  beetle  winds 
His  small  but  sullen  horn." 
Some  have  thought  that  Milton  means  the  cockchafer,  "the 
shard-borne  beetle"  of  Macbeth,  in.  2.  42,  which  begins  to  stir 
at  nightfall.  But  "sultry"  would  not  be  so  true  a  description, 
and  probably  he  indicates  three  periods  of  the  day,  not  merely 
morning  and  eve.     winds,  sounds;  cf.   Com  us,  873. 

sultry  serves  to  fix  the  time  of  the  day,  three  periods  being 
indicated — morning,  25 — 27;  noon,  28;  and  evening,  29 — 31. 

29.  Batten  (see  G.)  is  more  usual  as  an  intransitive  verb, 
'to  grow  fat';  cf.  Herrick,   Content  in  the  Country: 

"We  eate  our  own,  and  batten  more. 
Because  we  feed  on  no  man's  score." 
with;  "along  with,  in  point  of  time" — Bradshaw.     Cf.  loi. 

30.  31.  Referring  to  the  evening  star  Hesperus,  whose 
appearance  is  a  signal  to  the  shepherd  to  fold  his  flocks,  as  in 
Comus,  93.  Strictly  it  does  not  rise.  For  the  original  form  of 
the  lines  see  p.  159,  and  cf.  Tennyson's  "great  Orion  sloping 
slowly  to  the  West,"  Locksley  Hall. 

32 — 36.  See  23 — 36,  note.  We  may  remember  that  at  that 
time  Cambridge  was  remarkable  for  the  number  of  its  poets. 
Many  collections  of  verse,  such  as  the  Lycidas  volume,  were 
issued  from  the  University  Press,     ditties,  songs;  see  G. 

32.  were  not  mute,  were  heard  ;  sounded  ;  a  meiosis. 

33.  Tempered,  attuned.     Cf.  Par.  Lost,  vii.  597,  598: 
"All  sounds  on  fret  by  string  or  golden  wire 

Tempered  soft  tunings." 
A  favourite  word  with  Milton  and  Shakespeare,  the  underlying 
metaphor  usually  being  to  mix  either  metals  or  liquids  until 
they  have  become  fused  and  harmonious  :   hence  the  general 
idea  'agreement,'  'harmony.' 

oaten;  cf.  88,  and  see  Comus,  345.    Jlute,  pipe. 

34.  The  line  is  adapted  from  Vergil,  Eclogue  vi.  27.     The 


1 32  LYCIDAS. 

Satyri  belonged  to  Greek,  the  P'auni  to  Latin  mythology: 
practically  they  were  identified  by  Roman  writers,  and  regarded 
as  divinities  of  the  fields  and  country  life,  ivith  cloven  heel, 
because  they  were  supposed  to  be  half  men,  half  goats. 

36.  Damcetas ;  a  common  name  in  pastoral  writers;  cf. 
Vergil,  Eclogue  ill.  i.  It  is  thought  that  Milton  had  in  his 
mind's  eye  some  well-known  Cambridge  don,  e.g.  William 
Chappell,  tutor  of  Christ's  College  during  part  of  Milton's  and 
Edward  King's  residence  there,  but  Provost  of  Trinity  College, 
Dublin,  at  the  time  when  Lycidas  was  written. 

Masson  notes  that  old  is  a  favourite  word  with  Milton, 
implying  compliment;  cf.   i6o. 

37 — 49.  The  most  direct  expression  of  personal  grief  which 
Lycidas  contains.  How  beautifully  the  simple  diction  of  37,  38, 
contrasting  with  what  immediately  precedes  and  follows,  ex- 
presses the  simplicity  of  sorrow.  Lycidas  is  gone  for  ever,  and 
that  simple  fact  is  more  eloquent  than  words.  The  paucity  of 
rhyme  in  37 — 41  is  perhaps  intended  to  increase  the  effect  of 
simplicity. 

37.  Partially  quoted  in  Wordsworth's  Simon  Lee: 

"But,  oh  the  heavy  change!  bereft 
Of  health,  strength,  friends  and  kindred  !" 

38.  never  must,  i.e.  art  destined  never  to. 

39.  Thee... thee.  For  the  repetition  (which  emphasises  the 
pathos)  cf.  Vergil's  Te  veniente  die,  te  decedente  canebaty 
Georgic  IV.  466  ('of  thee  he  sang  at  daybreak,  of  thee  at 
eve' — referring  to  Eurydice,  wife  of  Orpheus). 

40.  gadding  points  to  the  straggling  growth  of  the  vine; 
cf.  the  epithets  applied  to  it  elsewhere — 'mantling,'  Par.  Lost, 
IV.  258,  and  Comus,  294,  'clustering,'  Par.  Lost,  vii.  320. 

It  has  often  been  remarked  that  the  landscape  in  Vergil's 
pastoral  verse  is  in  many  points  Sicilian  rather  than  Italian,  i.e. 
that  Vergil  follows  Theocritus  so  closely  as  to  introduce  in  his 
descriptions  features  which  belong  to  Sicily  but  not  to  Italy : 
thus  he  transfers  to  his  native  soil  plants  for  which  an  Italian 
shepherd  would  have  searched  in  vain,  and  assigns  "hills"  to 
the  flat  country  about  his  native  Mantua.  Similarly,  Milton, 
one  might  safely  wager,  never  set  eyes  on  wild  "vines"  near 
Cambridge ;  but  they  are  a  familiar  and  appropriate  feature  of 
the  pastoral  landscape  of  the  classical  poets,  and  so,  appropriate 


NOTES.  133 

or  not,  they  are  introduced  in  the  scenery  of  Lycidas.     And 
artistic  fitness  justifies  the  sacrifice  of  literal  accuracy. 

41.  Remembering  the  classical  story  of  Echo  (one  of  the 
Oreads  or  mountain  nymphs),  Milton  here  personifies  the 
echoes  (cf  Comics,  243)  and  represents  them  as  dwelling  in 
woods  and  caves.  The  device  of  making  them  lament  for 
Lycidas  was  borrowed  from  his  Greek  models.  Cf.  the  Lament 
for  Biojt,  "the  Panes  sorrow  for  thy  song  and  the  fountain- 
fairies  in  the  wood  made  moan... and  Echo  in  the  rocks  laments 
that  thou  art  silent,  and  no  more  she  mimics  thy  voice,"  Lang's 
translation  of  Moschus.  Cf.  too  Shelley's  Adonais,  st.  XV.  In 
the  earlier  portions  of  that  poem  Shelley  followed  closely  the 
classical  writers  of  pastoral  elegy;  as  the  Adonais  advanced,  the 
treatment  became  much  freer  and  the  Greek  influence  de- 
clined. 

44.  i.e.  moving  their  leaves  like  fans,  joyous ;  as  though 
the  music  of  Lycidas,  like  that  of  Orpheus,  charmed  inanimate 
nature. 

45.  canker,  i.e.  the  worm  that  preys  on  blossoms,  especially 
roses.  Cf.  Arcades^  53,  "Or  hurtful  worm  with  cankered  venom 
bites."  The  wild  or  'dog'  rose  is  especially  subject  to  this  disease : 
hence  in  Shakespeare  canker  (or  canker-bloo?>i,  as  in  Sonnet  54) 
sometimes  means  a  wild-rose;  cf.  Much  Ado  About  Nothing, 
I.  3.  28.  From  Lat.  cancer,  'a  crab' — also  an  'eating  tumour.' 
Note  the  emphatic,  remorseless  effect  of  the  alliteration. 

46.  taint-worm,  i.e.  some  worm  that  causes  disease  in  sheep 
and  cattle.  It  has  been  thought  that  Milton  may  be  referring 
to  the  insect  mentioned  in  the  Vulgar  Errors  (bk.  iii.  chap, 
xvii.  sect.  11)  of  Sir  Thomas  Browne,  who  says,  "There  is 
found  in  the  summer  a  kind  of  spider,  called  a  tainct,  of  a  red 
colour,  and  so  little  of  body  that  ten  of  the  largest  will  hardly 
outweigh  a  grain;  this  by  country  people  is  accounted  a  deadly 
poison  unto  cows  and  horses;  who,  if  they  suddenlie  die,  and 
swell  thereon,  ascribe  their  death  hereto,  and  will  commonly  say, 
they  have  licked  a  tainct." 

weanling,  i.e.  young;  a  diminutive  formed  from  the  verb 
wean,  like  yeanling  from  yean. 

47.  wardrobe.  Properly  used  of  the  chest  or  place  in  which 
dresses  are  kept;  then  applied  to  the  dresses  themselves.  Cf. 
The  Tempest,  iv.  222,  "look  what  a  wardrobe  here  is  for  thee!" 


1 34  LYCIDAS. 

Perhaps  we  have  the  same  metaphor  of  the  flowers  putting  on 
their  spring  garb  in  '■^ivell-attired  woodbine,"  146. 

48.  white-thorn  =  i\it  hawthorn  of  V Allegro,  68.  Shake- 
speare uses  the  same  obvious  way  of  pointing  to  the  spring-time, 
A  Midsuninier-Nighi's  Dream,  i.  i.  185.  blows,  i.e.  flowers. 
See  Comus,  993. 

50.  This  appeal  to  the  Nymphs,  the  powers  of  mountain 
(52 — 54)  and  river  {55),  asking  why  they  had  not  been  present 
in  their  usual  haunts  to  help  their  favourite,  is  modelled  partly 
on  Theocritus,  Idyl  i.  66 — 69,  partly  on  Vergil,  Eclogue  x. 
9 — 12.  The  places  chosen  by  Milton,  viz.  the  mountains  of 
Denbigh,  the  isle  of  Anglesey,  and  the  banks  of  the  Dee, 
were  associated  directly  with  Lycidas,  each  being  near  to  the 
scene  of  his  shipwreck.  In  this  respect  Milton  has  followed 
Theocritus,  who  addressed  the  Nymphs  of  those  special  localities 
with  which  the  subject  of  his  poem — the  shepherd  Daphnis — 
was  familiar.  Vergil  is  less  definite,  mentioning  only  the  usual 
resorts  of  the  Muses,  Parnassus  and  Mt  Helicon.  See  Warton's 
note  on  this  passage.  Some,  however,  think  that  by  "Nymphs" 
Milton  means  the  Nine  Muses. 

Shelley,  borrowing  from  Par.  Lost,  vii.  i — 12,  Milton's 
conception  of  Urania  (Gk.  ovpavla,  the  Heavenly  one)  as  the 
Muse  of  divine  poetry,  makes  her  the  mother  of  Adonais  (just 
as  Calliope  was  the  mother  of  Orpheus),  and  blames  her  (11.)  for 
not  preventing  the  death  o( her  "enchanting  son": 

"  Where  wert  thou,  mighty  Mother,  when  he  lay. 
When  thy  son  lay,  pieiced  by  the  shaft  which  flies 
In  darkness?   where  was  lorn  Urania 
When  Adonais  died?" 

52.  the  steep  ;  either  Penmainmawr,  or  (as  Warton  thought) 
the  Druid  sepulchres  at  Kerig-y-Druidion  in  Denbigh,  mentioned 
by  Camden  as  a  burial-place  of  the  Druids. 

53.  bards;  specially  applied  to  Celtic  poets;  cf.  Sidney's 
Apologie  for  Poetrie,  "In  Wales... there  are  good  authorities  to 
shewe  the  long  time  they  had  Poets  which  they  called  Bardes^^ 
(Pitt  Press  ed.  p.  5). 

Druids;  also  Celtic;  cf.  Irish  druidh,  an  augur.  In  their 
priestly  character  they  were  "Druids,"  in  their  poetic  "bards" 
(Newton).  In  primitive  times  the  two  characters  are  closely 
associated. 


NOTES.  135 

54.  Afona  =  ih.e  isle  of  Anglesey.  Cf.  Milton's  History  of 
Britain:  "At  last  over-confident  of  his  present  actions... he 
marches  up  as  far  as  Mona,  the  isle  of  Anglesey,  a  populous 
place,"  P.  W.  V.  207.  That  the  island  was  formerly  well- 
wooded  (cf.  ^^ shaggy  top"),  though  now  bare,  we  know  from 
Tacitus.  Warton  identified  Mona  with  the  Isle  of  Man,  on 
the  authority  of  Caesar,   Bellum  Gallicwn^  V.   13. 

shaggy  =  \j3i\..  horrens^  horridus  applied  to  woodland  scenery. 
The  picture  suggested  is  that  of  a  wood-clad  hill-side  seen  in 
profile.  Cf.  Gray,  The  Bard,  I.  i,  "the  steep  of  Snowdon's 
shaggy  side." 

55.  Deva,  the  river  Dee,  which  flows  into  the  Irish  Channel 
where  King  was  drowned.  Called  wizard  ('  prophetic  ')  because 
it  was  supposed  to  foretell,  by  changing  its  course,  good  or  ill 
events  for  England  and  Wales,  of  which  it  forms  the  boundary : 
hence  the  reverence  with  which  poets  mention  it.  Cf.  Milton's 
Vacation  Exercise,  98,  "ancient  hallowed  Dee,"  and  "sacred 
Dee"  in  Tennyson's  Geraint  and  Enid.  Also,  legend  said  that 
the  "wizard  "  Merlin  had  dwelt  by  it. 

56.  fondly,  foolishly. 

57.  yi'r  explains  ybz/^/j/ :  ''it  is  foolish  of  me  to  dream  (i.e. 
say  to  myself)  'if  only  the  Nymphs  had  been  there,' y^r  after  all 
what  could  they  have  done?" 

58.  the  Muse  herself  i.e.  Calliope,  the  muse  of  epic  poetry, 
whose  name  Milton  introduced  in  the  original  draft  of  these  lines. 
See  p.  160. 

59.  enchanting,  i.e.  who  worked  by  enchantment,  viz.  of 
music.  Enchant  in  Shakespeare  has  the  two  meanings,  to 
bewitch,  and  to  delight  (as  in  mod.  E.).  Enchant  and  charm 
are  veiy  similar  in  derivation — one  from  cantns,  the  other  from 
carmen — and  in  the  weakening  of  their  respective  meanings. 

61 — 63.  Referring  to  the  death  of  Orpheus  as  told  by  Vergil, 
Georgic  iv.  517 — 527,  and  more  fully  by  Ovid,  Metamorphoses, 
XI.  I — 55:  that  Orpheus  in  his  grief  for  Eurydice  treated  with 
disdain  the  Thracian  women  and  was  torn  to  pieces  by  them ; 
his  head  (also  his  lyre,  according  to  Ovid)  being  thrown  into  the 
Hebrus  and  carried  across  to  Lesbos,  an  island  oft"  the  coast  of 
Asia  Minor,  where  its  supposed  place  of  burial  was  pointed  out 
at   Antissa.      Milton    rewrote   these   lines   in    Par.    Lost,    vij. 


136  LYCIDAS. 

62.  the  stream,  i.e.  the  Hebrus,  the  principal  river  of 
Thrace,  which  rising  in  the  mountain  range  of  Rhodope  runs 
into  the  ^gean  near  CEnos.  It  is  generally  mentioned  in  con- 
nection with  Orpheus ;  cf.  Pope,  Cecilia's  Day,  vi.  The  epithet 
swift  repeats  Vergil's  volucrem  Hebrum  in  Aineid  i.  317,  where 
however  some  editors  read  Eiiriim  ('  east  wind '),  on  the  ground 
that  the  Hebrus  is  not  a  swift-flowing  river. 

63.  Note  the  effect  of  'swiftness'  which  the  initial  trochee 
{dSvm  the)  gives. 

64 — 84.  This  passage  interrupts  the  narrative.  It  is  one  of 
two  long  digressions  in  Lycidas,  the  other  being  113 — 131.  The 
interest  centres  in  Milton  himself.  He  proclaims  his  convictions, 
which  find  frequent  vent  in  his  prose  writings,  concerning  the 
high  office  of  the  poet  (which  his  contemporaries  regarded  so 
lightly),  the  dignity  of  learning  and  study,  and  the  worth  of 
true  fame. 

64.  what  boots,  i.e.  of  what  advantage  is  it?     See  G. 

66.  i.e.  devote  oneself  to  poetry.  He  means  more  than  the 
mere  composition  of  verse:  "uncessant  care"  (64)  and  "strictly" 
imply  rigorous  self-devotion  to  learning  and  preparation  for  the 
poet's  calling;  cf.  his  Reason  of  Church  Government,  "labour 
and  intense  study... I  take  to  be  my  portion  in  this  life,"  P.  W. 
II.  478. 

meditate  the  Muse;  a  literal  translation  of  a  phrase  in  Vergil, 
viz.  tneditari  Musam  {Eclogite  l.  2),  'to  compose.'  See  Comus, 
547,  where  it  is  used  of  composing  music  rather  than  verse. 
Cf.   Gk.  /xeXerai'. 

///a«/&/^jj  =  profitless,  because  the  Muse  can  do  nothing  to 
ward  off  death  from  the  poet.  Also,  Milton  may  have  been 
moved  by  the  feeling  that  poetry  had  done  little  for  him 
materially.  Newton  explains  "that  earns  no  thanks,  is  not 
thanked  by  the  ungratefiil  world." 

67 — 69.  A  way  of  saying,  would  it  not  be  better  to  use 
one's  poetic  gifts  in  that  light  vein  of  love-poetry  which  pleases 
the  taste  of  a  pleasure-loving  age  and  wins  popularity  for  a 
writer  ? 

67.  <7///i?rj- =  contemporary  poets,  e.g.  Herrick  and  Suckling 
(whom  Milton  may  have  known  at  Cambridge).  There  were  too 
the  followers  of  Ben  Jonson  such  as  Randolph,  whose  Muse 
was  often  erotic ;    and  Lovelace,   instanced  by  Mr  Jerram. 


NOTES.  1 37 

use,  i.e.  are  wont.  Cf.  Psalm  cxix.  132,  "be  merciful  unto 
me,  as  thou  usest  to  do  unto  those  that  love  thy  Name." 

68.  69.  At?iaryllis,  Necera;  common  names  of  shepherdesses 
in  pastoral  verse;  therefore  appropriate  here.  See  Vergil, 
Eclogue  I.  5,  III.  3.  These  particular  names  are  mentioned 
together  in  Colin  Clouts  Come  Home  Againe.  Warton  found  here 
an  allusion  to  two  Latin  poems  by  the  Scotch  writer  George 
Buchanan,  addressed  respectively  to  Neaera  and  Amaryllis. 

69.  Professor  Hales  compares  Lovelace's  To  Althea,  "When 
I  lie  tangled  in  her  hair." 

70.  A  common  sentiment  similarly  expressed  by  Spenser, 
Teares  of  the  Muses,  454,  "Due  praise,  that  is  the  spur  of  dooing 
well." 

clear,  i.e.  pure,  here  perhaps  with  the  idea  *  free  from  the 
taint  of  worldliness, '  Cf.  the  Remojistratif s  Defence,  where 
Milton  asks  whether  learning  is  to  be  sought  in  "the  den  of 
Plutus,  or  the  cave  of  Mammon.  Certainly  never  any  clear 
spirit  nursed  up  from  bright  influences,  with  a  soul  enlarged  to 
the  dimensions  of  spacious  art  and  high  knowledge,  ever  entered 
there  but  with  scorn,"  P.  W.  iii.  8r.  In  the  Adonais,  st.  iv. 
Shelley  felicitously  applied  Milton's  words  to  Milton  himself : 

'•  his  clear  Sprite 
Yet  reigns  o'er  earth,  the  third  among  the  sons  of  light." 

71.  An  allusion  to  the  famous  (cf,  "that"=:Lat,  ille)  saying 
in  Tacitus'  Histories,  iv.  6,  that  ambition,  literally  desire  of 
glory,  is  the  last  weakness  which  a  wise  man  throws  off,  and 
even  he  is  slow  to  do  so  {etiam  sapientibus  cupido  gloricE 
novissima  exuitur). 

72.  Descriptive  of  Milton's  life  at  this  period.  It  was  his 
instinct  and  habit  "to  study  and  love  learning  for  itself,  not 
for  lucre,  or  any  other  end,  but  the  sfervice  of  God  and  of  truth, 
and  perhaps  that  lasting  fame  and  perpetuity  of  praise,  which 
God  and  good  men  have  consented  shall  be  the  reward  of  those 
whose  published  labours  advance  the  good  of  mankind, "^ri?<?/a- 
gitica,  P.  W.  II.  78. 

73.  ^w^rfl'ij'W  =  recompense,  whether  good  or  bad  ;  see  G. 

74.  blaze,  flash  of  glory.  Perhaps  the  word  was  influenced  by 
the  verb  blaze =\.o  make  public,  as  in  Mark  i.  45,  "to  blaze  abroad 
the  matter  " ;  from  A.S.  blcksan,  to  blow  a  blast  on  a  trumpet. 

75.  the  blind  Fury;    meaning  Atropos   ('  the  inevitable '), 


138  LYCIDAS. 

who,  however,  was  one  of  the  Fates  (Gk.  Motpat,  I.at.  Parcce) 
not  one  of  the  Furies  (Erinyes).  There  were  three  Fates : 
Clotho  who  held  the  distaff  and  span  the  threads  of  each  man's 
life;  Lachesis  who  decided  when  enough  had  been  spun,  i.e. 
assigned  the  length  of  a  man's  life;  and  Atropos  who  cut  the 
web  with  her  shears,  i.e.  ended  the  life.  The  identification  of 
one  of  the  Fates  with  a  Fury,  though  very  unusual,  is  said  to 
have  some  slight  classical  authority,  and  Milton  means  to  imply 
that  the  cutting  short  of  such  a  life  as  Edward  King's  was  an  act 
worthy  only  of  a  Fury  (Bradshaw). 

blind;  implying  '  reckless  and  indifferent '  as  to  whom  she 
strikes ;  that  she  treats  genius  as  carelessly  as  the  common  herd. 
Possibly  Milton  was  thinking  of  the  representation  in  art  of 
Fortune  as  a  woman  whose  eyes  are  covered.  Cf.  Henry  V. 
III.  6.   30 — 40.     abhorred ;  see  Connis,  535. 

76.  slits,  cuts,  not  necessarily  (as  now)  lengthwise. 

Btit  not  the  praise.  Supply  some  verb  from  slits  in  the  previous 
clause :  Fate  may  cut  the  threads  of  life,  but  she  cannot  touch  or 
prevent  the  praise  that  is  a  man's  due.  The  omission  marks 
the  swiftness  with  which  Phoebus  meets  the  poet's  complaint. 

77.  Phainis  =  A^oWo,  the  Greek  god  of  song. 

touched  viy  trembling  ears ;  as  a  warning  to  stop  and  a 
reminder  of  something  which  the  poet  had  forgotten.  Taken 
from  Vergil,  Eclogue  Vi.  3,  4.  The  action,  says  Conington,  was 
a  symbolical  way  of  recalling  a  matter  to  a  person's  memory,  the 
ear  being  regai-ded  as  the  seat  of  memory. 

78.  i.e.  fame  is  not  of  this  world:  it  belongs  to  the  life  after 
death.     The  thought  is  put  more  fully  in  81 — 84. 

79.  Understand  is:  'nor  is  fame  in,'  etc.  True  fame,  he 
means,  does  not  consist  in  the  dazzling  appearance  of  success 
which  a  man  presents  to  society;  nor  has  it  aught  to  do  with 
popular  applause  and  report.  Rather,  it  is  a  thing  spiritual  and 
unworldly  in  its  essence.  Some  editors  connect  tlic  clause  with 
lies  in  the  next  verse. 

glistering;  a  variant  form  o{  glitter;  cf  the  older  form  of  the 
proverb  "all  that  glisters  is  not  gold."     See  Cornus,  219. 
foil,  the  brilliant  setting  of  a  jewel;  see  Ci. 

80.  nor  in  broad  rttmour  lies.  Cf.  Pope,  Essay  on  Man, 
IV.  237,   "What's  fame?     A  fancied  life  in  others'  breath!" 

81.  spreads ;  continuing  the  metaphor  o{ plant,  7S. 


NOTES.  139 

by^  by  means  of,  through  his  influence.     True  fame  has  no 
reality,  no  existence,  except  through  the  approval  of  Jove. 
those,  the  glorious,  the  immortal;  cf.  Comus,  2. 

83.  lastly,  with  the  final  decision;  or  at  the  last. 

84.  meed,  reward.     Cf.  14  and  see  G. 

85.  Here  he  returns  to  the  main  theme,  taking  up  the 
pastoral  style  which  had  been  in  abeyance  from  69;  and  as  at 
132  apologising  to  the  pastoral  Muse  for  his  digression.  "We 
find  Milton  twice  [85,  132]  checking  himself  for  having  gone 
beyond  the  limits  of  the  pastoral " — Stopford  Brooke. 

In  this  section  (85 — 102)  he  touches  on  the  circumstances  of 
Lycidas's  drowning :  how  and  when  did  it  happen  ? 

The  fountain  Arethusa,  at  Syracuse,  was  "conventionally  the 
pastoral  fountain"  (Conington).  It  is  to  her  that  Daphnis  in  the 
first  Idyl  of  Theocritus  (117)  addresses  part  of  his  farewell.  Being 
in  Sicily,  the  spring  was  taken  to  symbolise  the  stream  of  inspira- 
tion that  flowed  in  the  pastoral  poetry  of  the  Greek  writers, 
Theocritus  (see  p.  128)  and  Moschus,  natives  of  Greek  colonies  in 
Sicily,  and  Bion,  who  settled  in  Sicily  and  wrote  in  the  style  of 
Theocritus.  Thus  Moschus  says  that  Bion  "  would  ever  drain  a 
draught  of  Arethuse,"  Idyl  in.  77,  78. 

85,  86.  As  the  spring  Arethusa  typified  Greek  pastoral 
verse,  the  river  Mincius  is  made  to  represent  Latin  pastoral 
verse,  i.e.  the  Eclogues  or  pastoi-al  poems  of  Vei^gil  (to  whom 
"honoured"  is  a  passing  compliment).  His  native  place  Mantua 
was  not  far  from  the  junction  of  the  Mincius  with  the  Po,  and 
he  "  honoured  "  the  river  not  only  by  mentioning  it  in  his  poems 
but  by  dwelling  in  his  childhood  on  its  banks.  Cf.  Crabbe's 
Village^  canto  i,  where  he  condemns  false  pictures  of  rural  life 
drawn  in  imitation  of  Vergil: 

"On  Mincid's  banks,  in  Coesar's  bounteous  reign. 
If  Tityrus  found  the  Golden  Age  again, 
Must  sleepy  bards  the  flattering  dream  prolong, 
Mechanic  echoes  of  the  Manttian  songl" 

(Tityrus  =: the  shepherd  in  Vergil's  Eclogue  i.)  Milton's 
description  of  the  Mincius  echoes  Georgic  iii.  14,  15;  cf.  in 
particular  "crowned  with  vocal  reeds."  vocal,  because  used  for 
the  shepherd's  pipe  ;  or  perhaps  'whispering '  with  the  wind. 

87.  That  strain,  the  voice  of  Apollo,  higher,  i.e.  than  the 
pastoral  strain  which  he  dropped  at  70.     mood,  style  or  tone; 


I40  LYCIDAS. 

from  its  use  as  a  musical  term,  as  in  Par,  Lost,,  i.  550,  "  the 
Dorian  mood  of  flutes."  Sometimes  spelt  mode.  From  Lat. 
modus  \   distinct  from  »/0(7d^=  disposition,   Germ.  muth. 

88.  my  oat  proceeds^  i.e.  now  I  resume  my  pastoral  story; 
the  instrument  stands  for  the  poet,  and  thus  can  be  said  to 
"listen."     oat;   cf.   33. 

89.  the  herald;  Triton.     See  Comiis,  873,  note. 

90.  /;/  Neptune's  plea,  in  the  sea-god's  defence,  to  clear  him 
of  the  charge  of  having  been  "remorseless"  (50)  and  drowned 
the  poet's  friend,    plea ;  see  G. 

91.  feloHt  because  presumed  to  be  guilty  of  the  death  of 
Lycidas. 

93,94.  i.e.  every  rough-winged  blast  of  wind.  Rugged,^  rough 
and  ragged  ^xe.  akin,     every ..  .each ;  see  Comus,  19,  note. 

95.  i.e.  they  knew  nothing  about  what  had  happened  to  him. 

96.  Hippotades,  son  of  Hippotes,  i.e.  ^^olus.  He  was  the 
god  of  the  winds,  which  he  kept  enclosed  in  a  mountain-cavern, 
and  let  out  when  he  chose.  The  prison  of  the  winds  is  described 
by  Vergil  in  ALneid  I.  52 — 63. 

97 — 102.     Curiously  enough,  the  poem   in   the  Cambridge 
collection   by  Edward   King's  brother   implies  that   the  vessel 
struck  on  a  rock  during  a  gale.     Cf.  the  lines 
"  He,  the  fairest  arm, 
Is  torn  away  by  an  unluckie  storm." 
Probably  Henry  King  was  better  informed  as  to  the  details  of 
the  shipwreck  than  Milton  could  be.     Nowhere  else  is  there  a 
hint  that  the  ship  was  simply  unseaworthy. 

98.  level;  implying  that  the  water  was  smooth.  But  the 
epithet  also  conveys  an  impression  of  the  broad  expanse  of  sea ; 
cf.  Tennyson's  Morte  d' Arthur:  "And  on  a  sudden  lo !  the  level 
lake."     Cf.  "  the  flat  sea,"  Comus,  375. 

99.  Panope.  One  of  the  fifty  daughters  (cf.  "all  her  sisters") 
of  Nereus;  cf.  Comus,  837. 

I  or.  An  eclipse  was  proverbially  of  evil  omen,  the  precursor 
of  troubles ;  cf.  Par.  Lost,  I.  596 — 599.  Being  an  unlucky  moment 
for  beginning  any  lawful  design,  it  was  proportionately  favourable 
to  wicked  schemes.  The  witches'  caldron  in  Macbeth  (iv.  i.  28) 
has  slips  of  yew  broken  off  "  in  the  moon's  eclipse."  Horace  {Odes 
II.  13.  I — 4)  says  that  the  tree  which  fell  and  nearly  killed  him 
must  have  been  planted  on  a  most  unlucky  day  {nefasto  die). 


NOTES.  141 

with  curses,  i.e.  amid  curses.     For  with,  of.  -29. 

103.  Here  the  mourners  for  Lycidas  are  introduced.  The 
river-deity  Camus — representing,  of  course,  Edward  King's 
University  in  its  grief  at  the  loss  of  so  admirable  a  scholar — 
is  a  familiar  character  in  the  academic  verse  of  the  period, 
especially  pastoral  verse  like  Phineas  Fletcher's  Piscatorie  Ec- 
logues. Fletcher  makes  him  speak  the  prologue  of  the  Sicelides, 
a  pastoral  drama  acted  at  King's  College.  Camus;  the  Latinised 
form  of  Cam.  Mr  Jerram  notes  that  sire  is  the  common  title  of 
a  river  treated  as  a  protecting  power.  He  cites  Livy,  ir.  10, 
Tiber iiie  pater;  so  "  father  Thames "  in  Gray's  Ode  on  Eton 
College,  III. 

went  footing.     Giles  Fletcher  (a  writer  whom  Milton  studied 
closely)  had  previously  written  {Christ's  Vic  tor ie  on  Earthy  15): 
"At  length  an  aged  syre  farre  off  He  sawe 
Come  slowely  footing." 
slow.     Gray   alludes   more   delicately    to   the   very  sluggish 
current  of  the  Cam ;  cf.  his  Cambridge  Ode  for  Music  in  which 
he  celebrates  the  scenes  "Where  willowy  Camus  lingers  with 
delight." 

104.  For  bonnet— 2,  covering  for  the  head  worn  by  men,  cf. 
Bacon,  Essay  XLi.,  "Many  say  \\\?iX...Usiirers  should  have 
Orange-tawney  Bonnets."  hairy,  shaggy ;  referring  to  the  reeds 
along  the  Cam. 

sedge;  the  usual  adornment  of  river-deities,  a  piece  of 
symbolism  similar  to  the  olive-branch  borne  by  Peace.  In  the 
Entertainments  at  the  Coronation  of  yaincs  I.  Ben  Jonson 
introduces  the  river-god  Tamesis,  with  "  bracelets  about  his 
wrists  of  willow  and  sedge,  a  crown  of  sedge  and  reed  upon 
his  head."  Similar  descriptions  are  common  in  the  stage- 
directions  of  Masques. 

105.  figures  dim;  probably  =  symbolical  devices  and  repre- 
sentations worked  in  embroidery ;  they  may  have  had  reference 
to  the  history  of  Cambridge  University.  For  figure  used  of 
embroidery,  cf.  Shakespeare,  A  Lover's  Complaint,  17.  This 
agrees  well  with  "  inwrought."  dim,  because  faded  with  age. 
The  line  heightens  the  dignity  of  the  representative  of  the 
University,  and  to  increase  the  majesty  of  those  who  mourn 
for  Lycidas  is  to  pay  him  a  compliment.  So  the  next  comer, 
St  Peter,  is  invested  with  all  the  ceremony  of  his  high  office. 


142  LYCIDAS. 

Some  interpret  the  ** figures"  of  the  dusky  streaks  which 
appear  on  withered  sedge-leaves.  This  adds  Httle  to  the  sugges- 
tiveness  of  the  picture.     Most  prefer  the  other  view. 

io6.  The  sanguine  Jlotver  is  the  hyacinth.  According  to 
the  story  told  by  Ovid,  Metamorphoses,  x.  162 — 219,  Hyacin- 
thus,  son  of  the  Spartan  king  Amyclas,  was  killed  by  Zephyrus, 
and  from  his  blood  sprang  the  flower  named  after  him,  on  the 
petals  of  which  could  be  traced  a^,  at,  'alas!  alas!'.  Cf.  "in- 
scribed with  woe.'''' 

sanguine;  literally  'blood-coloured'  [sanguineus),  but  blood  is 
often  called  '  purple '  by  the  poets,  and  purple  is  the  sense  here. 

107.  pledge,  i.e.  child;  ci. pigmcs.    So  in  Par.  Lost,  11.  818. 

108.  Last  came.  The  solemnity  with  which  the  entrance  of 
St  Peter  is  heralded  has  something  of  the  dramatic  vividness  of 
the  stage,  raising  in  the  reader  "a  thrill  of  awestruck  expecta- 
tion" (Mark  Pattison).  The  introduction  of  the  Apostle  among 
the  Pagan  deities  and  associations  of  the  poem  has  been  much 
censured. 

109.  i.e.  St  Peter,  regarded  as  the  founder  of  the  Catholic 
Church,  and  here  its  spokesman.  He  is  introduced  because 
Edward  King  had  intended  to  take  orders  in  the  English  Church. 
In  calling  the  apostle  the  "Pilot  of  the  Galilean  Lake'"  (i.e. 
inland  sea,  cf.  Luke^  viii.  22 — 23)  Milton  may  have  used  some 
medieval  belief.     The  title  is  not  in  the  Gospels. 

no.  Cf.  Matthew,  xvi.  19,  "And  I  will  give  unto  thee  the 
keys  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven."  That  there  were  two  keys 
was  a  tradition  of  the  Church ;  and  Milton  has  varied  it  very 
effectively,  distinguishing  between  the  metals,  and  attributing  to 
one  the  power  of  exclusion.  Mr  Ruskin  notes  that  Dante  in 
the  Furgatorio  IX  makes  both  keys  (one  of  gold,  the  other  of 
silver)  admit  to  heaven,  and  that  Milton's  variation  is  an  artistic 
gain,  since  the  right  positively  to  exclude  (i.e.  not  merely  to 
decline  to  admit)  adds  to  the  authority  of  St  Peter  {Sesame  and 
Lilies,  p.  45). 

111.  The  golden  opes.     Cf.  Comus,  13,  14. 

amain,  with  force.  In  Shakespeare  it  almost  always  signifies 
'with  speed,'  e.g.  in  The  Comedy  of  Errors,  i.  i.  93,  "Two 
ships  from  far  making  amain  to  us."  //  =  preposition  on -V main 
=  A.  .S.  m<egcn,  strength. 

112.  mitred,    wearing    a    mitre     (bishop's    headdress);    a 


NOTES.  143 

reference  to  the  tradition  that  St  Peter  was  the  first  Bishop  of 
Rome,  bespoke',  the  word  was  often  used,  as  here,  with  some 
idea  of  reproof,  remonstrance. 

113 — 131.  As  the  academic  Hfe  was  figured  in  pastoral 
imagery  in  23 — 36,  so  here  is  the  ministerial;  and  in  this  case 
the  imagery  appears  more  natural  to  us  because  we  are  so 
familiar  with  the  conception  of  the  Good  Shepherd  {yohn  x. 
I— 16),  and  with  the  figurative  use  of  'pastor,'  'fold,'  'sheep.' 
Note  how  pregnant  the  symbolism  of  the  passage  is — that  almost 
each  detail  has  some  inner  significance,  each  fault  of  the  un- 
worthy bucolic  pastors  its  analogue  among  the  spiritual  pastors. 
Indeed  we  can,  and  must,  press  the  comparison  more  closely  than 
in  23 — 36,  where  there  was  more  of  literary  conventionalism. 
Here  Milton  is  too  much  in  earnest  to  be  merely  conventional : 
he  means  every  word  of  his  indictment. 

This  indictment  is  not  directed  against  all  the  Clergy,  but 
only  a  certain  section  ("enow  of  sicch  as"),  whom  Milton 
charges  with  taking  holy  orders  from  unworthy  motives  and 
seeking  preferment  by  unworthy  means  (114 — 118);  with 
spiritual  bHndness  and  ignorance  (119— 121);  with  indifference 
about  their  duties,  and  failure  to  give  the  people  proper  spiritual 
sustenance  (122 — 125);  with  spreading  false  doctrine,  (126,  127), 
and  doing  nothing  to  coimteract  the  active  exertions  of  the 
Roman  Catholics  in  proselytising  (128,  129).  These  charges 
are  put  far  more  strongly  in  his  prose-tracts;  and  the  imagery 
of  the  lines,  even  the  language,  might  be  illustrated  by  endless 
quotations. 

114,  115.  This  censure  of  those  who  are  induced  to  take 
orders  by  desire  of  money  comes  with  special  significance  from 
the  lips  of  St  Peter;  cf.   i  Peter  v.  2. 

1 15.  creep... intrude... climb.  Milton  chooses  words  that 
distinguish  the  three  types  of  men  he  has  in  view — those  who 
enter  the  Church  in  a  stealthy,  underhand  way,  those  who  thrust 
themselves  in  with  self-assertion,  and  those  who  are  full  of 
ambition  to  rise  to  high  places.  See  an  interesting  criticism  of 
the  whole  passage  in  Sesame  and  Lilies^  pp.  38,  39.  It  must 
be  remembered  that  Milton  writes  as  a  bitter  enemy  of  the 
Church,  that  he  was  afterwards  even  more  bitter  against  the 
Presbyterians,  and  during  the  latter  part  of  his  life  did  not 
identify  himself  with  any  religious  body. 


144  LYCIDAS. 

1 1 6.  i.e.  make  little  account  of  any  other  duty.  Cf.  Comtis, 
642. 

117.  When  Milton  wrote,  the  shearing  feast  was  an  institu- 
tion regularly  observed.  Cf.  Spenser's  Astrophel^  32,  and 
Herrick's   The  Country  Life.     See  Conius,  173 — 177,  note. 

118.  Referring  to  the  parable  of  the  marriage  of  the  king's 
son,  Matthew  xxii.  i — 9;  cf.  verse  8,  "  they  which  were  bidden 
were  not  worthy." 

119.  blind,  i.e.  spiritually,  fnouths,  gluttons;  carrying  on 
the  idea  in  "feast"  (117)  but  implying  gluttonous  desire  of  money 
and  preferment.  How  vivid  a  use  it  is  of  'the  part  for  the  whole* 
— "as  if  the  men  were  mouths  and  nothing  else" — Masson. 
Exactly  similar  is  the  description  of  a  people  as  "slow  bellies" 
(yaa-repes  dpyal),  Epistle  to  Titus  i.  12. 

119 — 121.  Of  course,  these  lines  imply  that  Edward  King 
was  a  true  student.  Several  of  the  other  contributors  to  the 
Cambridge  volume  celebrate  his  learning  in  varying  degrees  of 
extravagant  praise.  Hitherto,  says  Cleveland,  the  sea  had  lacked 
"Books,  arts  and  tongues... but  in  thee 
Neptune  hath  got  an  Universitie"; 
a  'conceit'  echoed  by  another  writer  : 

"Nor  did  it  seem  one  private  man  to  die, 
But  a  well-ordered  Universitie." 

120.  The  sheep-hook  (cf.  The  Winter's  Tale,  iv.  4.  430, 
431),  in  accordance  with  the  imagery  that  runs  throughout, 
represents  the  pastoral  staff  of  the  Church  in  its  character  of  the 
Good  Shepherd.  So  in  Milton's  tract  Of  Reformation  :  "  let 
him  advise  how  he  can  reject  the  pastorly  rod  and  sheep-hook 
of  Christ,'  P.   IV.  II.  412. 

the  least ;  put  in  rather  loose  apposition  to  aught :  '  they 
have  scarcely  learnt  any  other  duty,  even  the  smallest,  that 
belongs,'  etc. 

121.  herdman=  shepherd.  For  the  form  cf.  Venus  and 
Adonis,  456. 

122.  IVhat  recks  it  them  ?  what  do  they  care?  For  the  im- 
personal use,  cf.  Comus,  404. 

sped=  provided  for.  What  Milton  means  is  that  these  well- 
beneficed  clergy  have  got  all  they  want  :  they  "  need  "  nothing. 
Shakespeare  always  has  sped  in  a  bad  sense.  Cf.  l^he  Merchant 
of  Venice,  ii.  9,  72,  "So  be  gone:  you  are  sped,"  i.e.  dispatched. 


NOTES.  145 

So  in  Pope's  line  "A  dire  dilemma  !  either  way  I'm  sped,"  i.e. 
(colloquially)  'done  for ' — Epistle  to  Arbuthnot^  31. 

123.  their  songs.  The  miserable  singing  and  piping  of  the 
shepherds  represent,  very  naturally,  the  miserable  preaching  and 
teaching  of  the  ministers.  With  his  Puritan  sympathies,  Milton 
would  set  very  great  store  on  preaching. 

when  they  list,  i.e.  only  when  they  choose. 

leaUy  thin,  and  so,  as  applied  to  sermons,  =  yielding  no 
spiritual  nourishment. 

flashy,  tasteless;  see  G.  What  worse  can  be  said  of  food 
than  that  it  neither  nourishes  the  body  nor  pleases  the  palate  ? 
So  with  the  sermons  of  these  clergy :  they  lack  both  moral  worth 
and  literary  grace  and  polish. 

123.  The  line  is  imitated  from  one  in  Vergil's  third  Eclogue, 
27.  scrannel;  properly  'thin,  weakly,  wretched.'  It  carries  on 
the  idea  in  "lean,"  implying  that  the  sound  of  the  pipes  is  as 
poor  in  tone  as  the  rnatter  of  the  songs  is  "  lean."  The  Imperial 
Dictionary  quotes  (without  reference)  from  Carlyle,  "  to  twang 
harps  for  thee,  and  blow  through  scrannel  pipes."  Cf.  also  a 
letter  by  him  in  Lord  Houghton's  Life,  i.  265  :  "Like  a  'chapped 
flute,'  which  you  steep  in  the  ditch  until  it  close  again  and 
become  a  whole  flute  or  scrannel."  Newton  notes  how  the 
sound  suits  the  sense  in  123,   124.     straw ;  cf.   "oat,"  88. 

125.  The  sheep  neglected  by  their  shepherd  are  a  common 
feature  of  pastoral  poetry;  cf.  Matthew  Arnold's  The  Scholar- 
Gipsy,  "  No  longer  leave  thy  wistful  flock  unfed." 

126.  The  "  rank  mist  "  is  the  false  doctrine,  or  what  Milton 
as  a  Puritan  considered  false.  ra;«,^  =  noisome,  pestilential. 
draw,  i.e.  breathe.  Cf.  Samson  Agonistes,  7,  "  scarce  freely 
draw  the  air." 

128,  129.  It  seems  to  be  generally  agreed  that  Milton  refers 
to  the  system  of  proselytism  which  was  then  carried  on  so  actively 
by  the  Roman  Catholic  party  in  England  that  the  "grim  wolf 
would  be  readily  identified.  By  '^ privy  paw"  is  meant  the 
secrecy  with  which  the  proselytisers  acted.  The  last  work  Milton 
published,  the  tract  Of  True  Religion,  1673,  was  directed 
"  against  the  growth  of  Popery."  Some  editors  believe  that 
the  "  wolf"  is  Laud,  who  had  been  archbishop  since  1632,  and 
who  through  the  Court  of  High  Commission  was  then  enforcing 
severe  pains  and  penalties  against  the  Puritans.     "  Our  author," 

V.  c.  10 


146  LYCIDAS. 

says  Warton,  *'  anticipates  the  execution  of  Archbishop  Laud, 
by  a  two-handed  engine,  that  is,  the  axe ;  insinuating  that  his 
death  would  remove  all  grievances  in  religion,  and  complete  the 
reformation  of  the  Church."  But  this  is  to  explain  by  the  light 
of  after-events.  Milton  could  scarcely  have  foreseen  in  1637  ^^ 
death  of  the  primate  (which  took  place  in  1645) ;  and  even  if 
this  had  been  his  meaning,  it  would  not  have  been  clear  to  others, 
or  if  clear,  would  not  have  been  permitted  to  appear  in  a  volume 
published  by  the  University  Press.  Further,  the  operations  of 
Laud  and  the  High  Church  were  not  "  privy."  See  Masson's 
Life  of  Milton,   i.  638. 

128.  with  pi-ivy  paw.     Cf.  the  Sonnet  to  Cromwell,  13,  14: 
"Help  us  to  save  free  conscience  from  the  paw 

Of  hireling  wolves,  whose  gospel  is  their  maw." 

129.  and  nothing  said ;  an  absolute  construction.  He  means, 
without  opposition  from  the  prelates.  Masson  shows  that  the 
charge  is  not  true  of  Laud.  There  may  also,  as  Mr  Jerram 
argues,  be  an  imputation  on  the  Court;  for  the  Queen,  a  Roman 
Catholic,  was  known  to  favour  very  strongly  the  cause  of  her 
own  Church. 

130.  131.  Many  editors  believe  that  what  Milton  has  in 
mind  is  "  a  thorough  and  effectual  reforaiation "  (Newton)  of 
the  Church,  and  that  this  reformation  is  figured  under  the  image 
of  a  "  /w^-handed  engine "  in  allusion  to  either  "  the  ax  laid 
unto  the  root  of  the  trees"  {Matthew  iii.  lo,  Luke  iii,  9),  or  the 
'•'two  edged  sword"  of  The  Revelation  i.  16.  The  "ax"  and 
the  '■'•two  edged  sword  "  are  equally  symbolical,  in  their  respective 
Scriptural  contexts,  of  a  thorough  reformation,  and  therefore 
equally  appropriate  here;  though  " /7«/c;-handed "  rather  favours 
the  latter. 

Personally  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  the  power  Milton 
means  is  not  Reformation  but  Justice,  and  that  the  "two- 
handed  engine  "  is  the  sword  of  Justice.  Cf.  his  pamphlet  The 
Tetiure  of  Kings,  "  be  he  king,  or  tyrant,  or  emperor,  the  sword 
of  justice  is  above  him  "  ;  and  the  same  work,  "  they  plead  for 
him,  pity  him. ..protest  against  those  that  talk  of  bringing  him 
to  the  trial  of  justice,  which  is  the  sword  of  God,  superior  to  all 
mortal  things,"  P.  W.  ii.  pp.  4,  8.  Cf.  Othello,  v.  2,  17. 
True,  Milton  does  not  here  introduce  the  word  Justice,  but  the 
drift  of  the  passage  seems  to  be  that  the  power  of  just  retribution 


NOTES.  147 

will  execute  vengeance,  and  the  instrument  used  might  well  be 
the  sword  that  hangs  over  wrong-doers. 

The  "engine"  has  also  been  identified,  as  we  saw,  with  the 
axe  which  was  to  behead  Laud,  and  with  the  sword  of  Michael. 
Each  view  is  very  improbable;  the  latter  is  simply  due  to  the 
fact  that  the  sword  of  Michael,  with  which  he  laid  low  the 
rebellious  angels  in  the  great  battle  in  Heaven,  is  called  "  two- 
handed"  in  Par.  Lost,  vi.  250,  251. 

1 30-     that ;  he  speaks  as  if  he  saw  it  there. 

two-handed,  wielded  with  both  hands  because  of  its  size  and 
weight.  Cf.  2  Henry  VI.  11.  i.  46,  "Come  with  thy  two-hand 
sword."  It  seems  to  me  simply  a  descriptive  epithet,  as  in  Par. 
Lost,  VI.  251,  emphasising  the  potency  of  the  sword.  Masson, 
however,  thinks  there  may  be  a  hint  at  the  Two  Houses  of 
Parliament.  "For  eight  years  prior  to  1637  Charles  had  not 
called  a  Parliament ;... yet  this  word  was  in  the  hearts  of  all, 
and  it  was  to  a  coming  Parliament  with  its  Two  Houses  that 
all  looked  forward  for  the  rectification  of  the  accumulated  abuses 
in  Church  and  State  " — Masson. 

engine ;  formerly  used  in  the  general  sense  *  instrument ' ; 
hence  equally  applicable  to  a  sword  or  to  an  axe.     See  G, 

at  the  door =x^2Ay  2X  hand;  from  Matthew  x\iv.  33,  "know 
that  it  is  near,  even  at  the  doors."  Cf.  the  Remonstf-anf s  Defence, 
"  thy  kingdom  is  now  at  handj  and  thou  standing  at  the  door." 

131.  and  smite  no  more,  because  the  blow  when  it  does  fall 
will  be  final.     Cf.  i  Samuel  xxy'i.  8. 

132.  As  after  a  previous  digression  (see  85),  he  recalls  the 
pastoral  Muse.  Alpheus,  the  river  of  Peloponnesus,  was  the 
lover  of  Arethusa,  the  Syracusan  fountain  (cf.  Shelley's  beautiful 
poem),  and  like  her  symbolises  the  pastoral  verse  of  the  Greeks, 
so  that  "shrunk  thy  streams"  is  a  figurative  way  of  saying 
'  checked  the  course  of  my  pastoral  strain.' 

133*    shrunk,  made  to  shrink,  scared. 

Sicilian,  i.e.  the  Muse  of  pastoral  poetry,  who  inspired  the 
pastoral  writers  Theocritus,  Bion,  and  Moschus.  The  phrase 
"Sicilian  Muses"  {Sicelides  Musa:)  is  used  by  Moschus  in  his 
Lament  for  Bion,  and  by  Vergil,  Eclogue,  IV.   i. 

133 — 141.  Wordsworth  in  the  poem  Margaret  defends  the 
poetic  practice  of  calling  on  inanimate  nature  to  join  in  lament 
for  the  dead  ; 

10 — 2 


148  LYCIDAS. 

"The  Poets,  in  their  elegies  and  songs 
Lamenting  the  departed,  call  the  groves, 
They  call  upon  the  hills  and  streams  to  mourn, 
And  senseless  rocks  ;  nor  idly ;  for  they  speak, 
In  these  their  invocations,  with  a  voice 
Obedient  to  the  strong  creative  power 
Of  human  passion  "  ; 
i.e.  the  passion  (or  '  pathetic  fallacy,'  as  Ruskin  calls  it)  which 
leads   us   to  attribute   to  nature  and   natural  objects  our  own 
feelings.     Thus  it  is  a  "fallacy"  to  call  the  sea  "remorseless" 
(50),  or  to  speak  of  "  the  crtiel  crawling  foam,"  as  Kingsley  does. 

134.  Hither,  as  though  he  pointed  to  the  "laureate  hearse." 

135.  bells,  i.e.  of  flowers.  Cf.  Ariel's  "In  a  cowslip's  bell  I 
lie,"  The  Tempest,  v.  89. 

136.  use,  haunt,  dwell.  Sylvester  speaks  of  the  mountain 
(Helicon)  "Where  the  Pierian  learned  ladies  use"  (  =  the  Muses 
dwell). 

137.  wanton,  i.e.  blowing  where  they  please;  cf.  Comus, 
49.  "Wanton  wind"  occurs  in  A  Midsummer- Nighfs  Dream, 
II.  I.  129,  but  with  a  different  sense  ('lustful'). 

138.  jvhose,  of  the  valleys.  Cf.  A  Midsummer-Night's 
Dream,  ii.   r.   107,   108: 

"hoary-headed  frosts 
Fall  in  the  fresh  lap  of  the  crimson  rose." 
the  swart  star=ihe  dog-star,  Sirius;  see  Comus,  928. 
S7vart;    properly   'darkened   by   heat,'   as   the    flowers,   he 
implies,  would  be  after  the  star  had  "looked"  on  them;  more 
applicable  therefore  to  the  star's  effect  than  to  the  star  itself. 
looks.     Warton  is  probably  right  in  thinking  that  looks  refers 
to  the  astrological  theory  of  the  '  influence '  exercised  by  the 
'aspects'  of  the  stars;  cf.  The  Winter'' s  Tale,  ii.  i.  105—107: 
"  There's  some  ill  planet  reigns  : 
I  must  be  patient  till  the  heavens  look 
With  an  aspect  more  favourable." 

139.  (7?/^/;//,  pretty,  fanciful;  see  G.  euafncllcd,\.e.\vcc\ii- 
gated  and  glossy  as  enamel-work.  A  favourite  epithet  with 
Milton,  as  with  other  writers  of  this  period,  especially  Herrick. 
Cf.  Par.  Lost,  IV.  149  (used  of  fruit  and  flowers).  Mr  Ruskin 
remarks  on  its  frequent  misuse,  Modern  Painters,  ill.  ■229.  It 
is  open  to  the  same  criticism  as  "velvet";  see  Comus,  898. 


NOTES.  149 

eyes',  cf.  A  Midsum?ner  Night's  Dream,  iv.  i.  59,  60: 
"orient  pearls  (i.e.  dewdrops) 
Stood  now  within  the  ^xtiiy  flowerets'  eyes.'" 

140.  honied,  sweet  to  them  as  honey. 

141.  purple  =  impur pie ;  cf.  Par.  Lost,  in.  364,  "Impurpled 
with  celestial  roses."  The  sense  is  'to  make  brilliant,'  purple 
with  Milton  being  sometimes  equivalent  to  Lat.  purpureics,  i.e. 
dazzling  or  rich  of  hue. 

142 — 150.  This  device  of  enumerating  a  number  of  ilowers 
belongs  as  much  to  the  pastoral  style  as  did  the  invocation  to 
the  Muses,  or  the  rural  imagery  of  lines  25 — 36.  In  a  well- 
known  passage  of  Modern  Painters  Mr  Ruskin  contrasts  Milton's 
lines  with  those  in  The  Winter^ s  Tale,  iv.  4.  118 — 127.  The 
gist  of  the  criticism  is,  that  in  Shakespeare  the  description  is 
imaginative,  giving  us  the  essential  characteristic  of  each  flower, 
but  in  Milton  fanciful,  or  even  fantastic.  Roughly  speaking, 
the  difference  is  that  between  the  poet  who  goes  straight  to 
nature,  and  the  poet  who  knows  nature  mainly  through  the 
medium  of  books.  Turn  to  the  passage  in  The  Winter's  Tale ; 
also  to  Cynibeline,  iv.  2.  218 — 229. 

Newton  observes  that  most  of  the  flowers  mentioned,  being 
early  flowers,  are  "suited  to  the  age  of  Lycidas."  The  objection 
that  the  flowers  do  not  all  bloom  at  the  same  time,  though 
Milton  calls  them  "vernal"  (141),  seems  to  me  somewhat 
carping. 

142 — 150.     A  much  corrected  passage;  see  p.  161. 

142.  Cf.  Wordsworth's  poem  To  May: 

"Such  greeting  heard,  away  with  sighs 
For  lilies  that  must  fade, 
Or  *the  rathe  primose  as  it  dies 
Forsaken'  in  the  shade!' 
rathe,  i.e.   early,    as   the   name,  prima   rosa,   implies.     See 
G. 

forsaken.  The  earlier  draft  of  the  passage  suggests  the  sense 
'unwedded'  (by  the  sun)  i.e.  because  the  primrose  grows  in  shady 
places.  The  notion  of  the  sun  being  in  love  with  certain 
flowers  is  often  alluded  to ;  cf.  the  description  in  The  Winter's 
Tale,  IV.  4.  105,  106,  of  the  marigold.  Apart  from  the  earlier 
version  one  would  rather  interpret  'left  alone'  in  the  wood; 
unadmired,  like  other  wildflowers  that  "blush  unseen." 


w 


1 50  LYCIDAS. 

143.  crow-toe;   identified  by  most  editors  with  the   crow- 
Jlffwer  (see  Hamlet,  iv.  7.   170),  formerly  used  of  the  Ragged 

Robin  but  now  of  the  buttercup.  In  Gerarde's  Herbal^  '597. 
however,  the  standard  Elizabethan  book  on  botany,  the  crow-toe 
is  called  a  hyacinth.  So  also  in  Lyte's  still  earlier  Herbal  (1578), 
p.  206. 

144.  pansy;  especially  appropriate  here  as  being  the  flower 
of  thought  {F. pensee)  or  remembrance;  cf.  Ha^nlet,  iv.  5.  178. 

freaked,  i.e.  variegated  or  spotted;  etymologically=yr(f^/^/f</, 
which  Shakespeare  uses  in  a  similar  way;  cf.  "the  freckled 
cowslip,"  Henry  V.  v.  2.  49.  From  Icelandic  frekna,  Middle 
'E.frakne^z.  freckle. 

145.  glowing,  i.e.  of  a  rich  deep  purple;  truer  of  the 
cultivated  violet  than  the  wild  (which  Shakespeare  describes 
so  beautifully  in  The  Winter^s  7 ale,  IV.  4.  120,  "violets  dt/u''). 

146.  well-attired.  The  metaphor  may  be  that  of  attire  in 
its  ordinary  sense — cf.  Milton's  Sonnet  "To  Mr  Laurence," 
6,  7;  or  of  attire=-tire,  i.e.  head-dress,  as  in  Leviticus  xvi.  4, 
"with  the  linen  mitre  shall  he  be  attired." 

7£/^^(/^/w^=  honeysuckle;  as  in  Mtich  Ado  About  Nothing, 
III.  I.  8,  30. 

147.  wan  ;  referring  to  its  pale,  delicate  shade  of  yellow. 

148.  Cf.  Tennyson,  "Rare  broidry  of  the  purple  clover,"  A 
Dirge.  Elsewhere  Milton  speaks  of  the  ground  being  embroidered 
{Comus,  233),  or  broidered  {Par.  Lost,  iv.  702)  with  flowers. 

149.  amaranthus ;  from  Gk.  dfidpavros,  'unfading' — the 
word  used  in  i  Peter  v.  4,  of  the  "crown  of  glory  that  fadeth 
not  away."  The  flower  is  the  favourite  poetic  symbol  of  im- 
mortality, and  so  the  most  appropriate  of  those  mentioned 
here.  See  the  exquisite  description  in  Par.  Lost,  ill.  353  —  359. 
Tennyson  glances  at  "Milton's  Amaranth"  in  Roinnefs  Remorse. 

150.  daffadillies ;  a  rustic  form  (the  imaginary  speaker  is 
a  shepherd)  of  daffodil;  cf.  The  Shepheards  Calender^  April, 
which  also  has  daffadowttdillies. 

151.  laj(reate,  crowned  with  laurels  (as  the  Poet  Laureate 
is,  theoretically),  symbolising  Edward  King's  poetic  faculty; 
cf.  10,  II.  Perhaps  the  laurels  might  also  represent  the 
memorial  poems  of  Milton  and  his  fellow-contributors,  and 
some  editors  think  that  he  has  in  mind  the  old  custom  of 
attaching  memorial  stanzas  to  a  hearse  or  grave.     Perhaps  the 


NOTES.  1 5  I 

most  celebrated  piece  of  poetic  eulogy  of  this  type  ever  com- 
posed was  Ben  Jonson's  epitaph  on  the  Countess  of  Pembroke, 
"Underneath  this  marble  hearse";  see  Mr  Aldis  Wright's  note 
on  Henry  V.  I.  2.  •233. 

hearse;  probably = bier.  Derived  from  Lat.  hirpex,  'a 
harrow, '  hearse  originally  meant  a  triangular  frame  shaped  like 
a  harrow,  for  holding  lights  at  a  church  service,  especially  the 
services  in  Holy  Week.  Later,  it  was  applied  to  the  illu- 
mination at  a  funeral,  and  then  to  almost  everything  connected 
with  a  funei^al.  Thus  it  could  signify  the  dead  body,  the  coffin, 
the  pall  covering  it,  the  framework  of  wood  on  which  a  coffin 
was  placed  in  the  church  before  the  altar,  the  bier,  the  funeral 
car  (as  always  now),  the  service  (cf.  the  Glosse  to  The  Shepheards 
Calender,  November),  and  the  grave.  See  Way's  Pi-omptorium, 
p.  236. 

Lycid.  Spenser  has  this  shortened  form,  Colhi  Clout ^ 
907.  The  alliteration  seems  to  me  to  give  a  peculiar  effect 
of  pathos. 

152 — 162.  The  main  verb  is  let  in  153 — 'let  our  thoughts 
dally  whilst '  etc. ;  then  come  a  series  of  clauses  dependent  on 
their  respective  conjunctions,  whilst,  whether,  where;  and 
afterwards  (163,  164)  two  imperatives  are  introduced  somewhat 
abruptly.  The  train  of  thought  connected  with  that  of  the 
previous  passage,  142 — 151,  is:  'let  us  strew  the  hearse  with 
flowers:  let  us,  to  ease  our  grief,  play  with  the  false  notion 
{surmise)  that  the  body  of  Lycidas  is  covered  by  those  flowers : 
though  in  reality  alas!  it  is  being  borne  in  its  "wandering 
grave,"  perhaps  northwards  to  the  Hebrides,  perhaps  south  to 
the  Land's  End.'     See  Warton's  note. 

i54j  155-  Strictly  "shores"  does  not  fit  well  with  "wash"; 
but  taken  closely  with  "sounding  seas"  it  gives  us  a  vivid  picture 
of  the  body  dashed  from  coast  to  coast,  as  though  land  and  sea 
were  leagued  against  it. 

157.  For  the  reading  in  the  1638  ed.  (see  p.  i6i),  cf. 
Pericles,  III.  i.  64,  "humming  water  must  overwhelm  thy 
corpse."     Perhaps  o^envhelm  afterwards  suggested  whelming. 

158.  i.e.  the  world  of  monsters.     Cf.  Comtis,   533. 

154,  156.     For  the  rhyme,  cf.  Wordsworth's  Solitary  Reaper: 
"Breaking  the  silence  of  the  seas 
Among  the  farthest  Hebrides." 


152  LYCIDAS. 

159.  moist,  i.e.  with  tears,  voxus,  prayers  and  funeral  rites 
(Lat.  vota). 

160.  by  the  fable  of  Bellerus^ntzx  the  grave  (or  realm)  of 
the  legendary  Bellerus,  i.e.  the  Land's  End.  The  use  of  the 
abstract  noun  resembles  Par.  Lost,  II.  964,  965,  "the  dreaded 
name  of  Demogorgon"=:the  dreadful  Demogorgon  himself. 

By  Bellerus  is  meant  one  of  the  giants  anciently  supposed 
to  have  dwelt  in  Cornwall;  Milton  seems  to  have  coined  the 
name  from  Bellerium,  the  Latin  name  of  the  Land's  Enil. 
The,  Cambridge  MS.  has  "  Corineus  old,"  implying  the  whole  of 
Cornwall ;  see  Appendix,  section  iii.  The  change  to  Bellerus 
defined  the  locality  more  closely. 

Milton  had  studied  the  ancient  British  history  with  a  view  to 
his  contemplated  poem  (see  p.  xxi)  on  the  Arthurian  legend, 
which  is  so  closely  connected  with  Cornwall.  He  specially 
mentions  the  Cornish  giants  and  relates  legends  concerning 
them  in  his  History  of  Bj'itaiti,  v.   172,   173. 

161.  the giiarded  mount ;  St  Michael's  Mount,  off  Penzance. 
Though  Milton  does  not  mention  the  name  the  allusion  would 
be  easily  understood,  for,  as  Spenser  says  in  The  Shepheards 
Calender^  J  "lye, 

"  St  Michels  Mount  who  does  not  know. 
That  wardes  the  Westerne  coste?" 
Upon  the  mount  was  a  craggy  seat  called  St  MichacVs  Chair 
(other  names  for  it  being  "the  grey  rock"  or  "the  hoare  rock 
in  the  wood"),  in  which  tradition  said  that  apparitions  (i.e. 
Visions)  of  the  archangel  had  been  witnessed.  Milton  speaks 
as  though  the  Vision  were  always  there,  with  gaze  directed 
to  the  Spanish  coast.  For  other  references  to  the  same  legend, 
see  Vo\w\vc[Q''i  History  of  Cornwall,  i.  66-67,  ii.  las-i'zS. 

guarded=  protected  by  the  presence  of  the  angel ;  less 
probably  =  fortified.  There  was  a  fortress  on  the  hill,  ruins  of 
which  remain ;  see  Bacon's  account  of  Perkin  Warbeck  and  the 
Cornish  rising  in  1496,  Hist,  of  Ilcn.  VII.  p.  167  (Pitt  Press 
ed.). 

162.  The  i^laces  mentioned  were  on  the  north-west  coast 
of  Spain,  and  Milton  made  the  Vision  gaze  in  that  direction 
because  it  was  a  sort  of  literary  tradition  that  the  Land's  End 
"pointed  at  Spain,"  as  Drayton  had  said  {Polyolbion,  it,).  But 
a  reference  to  Spain  in  general  terms  would  not  be  so  effective 


NOTES.  153 

as  the  mention  of  special  places;  the  artifice  of  using  sonorous 
names  is  a  favourite  with  poets.  Milton  therefore  would  require 
the  names  of  some  places  on  the  northern  coast  of  Spain,  at  the 
point  nearest  to  the  Land's  End ;  this  was  Galicia. 

On  its  coast,  a  little  east  of  Cape  Finisterre,  lay  Namancos, 
with  Bayona  to  the  south.  Todd  discovered  the  names  in  the 
map  of  Galicia  in  Mercator's  Atlas.  Probably  the  source 
consulted  by  Milton  was  the  first  English  edition  of  that  great 
work,  published  in  1636,  the  year  before  the  composition  of 
Lycidas.  For  (i)  Namancos  has  not  been  found  in  any  other 
contemporary  atlas;  (2)  formerly  it  was  usual  in  designing 
large  atlases  to  mark  important  places  not  only  by  name,  but 
also  by  some  illustration  of  a  castle,  fortress  or  tower.  Now  in  the 
edition  just  mentioned  Namancos  is  marked  by  a  tower,  and 
Bayona  by  the  striking  outline  of  a  castle  (hence  "hold"). 
The  supposition  is  that  Milton's  eye  was  caught  by  the 
illustrations,  and  his  ear  pleased  by  the  sound  of  the  names. 

163.  Angel,  i.e.  Michael.  Warton  paraphrases  the  line 
thus:  "Oh  angel,  look  no  longer  seaward  to  Namancos  and 
Bayona's  hold :  rather  turn  your  eyes  to  another  object :  look 
homeward  or  landward;  look  towards  your  own  coast  now, 
and  view  with  pity  the  corpse  of  the  shipwrecked  Lycidas, 
floating  thither." 

Some  editors  think  that  Lycidas  is  the  Angel;  but  there  is 
an  obvious  antithesis  between  "looks  toward  Namancos"  in  162, 
and  "look  homeward"  in  163,  and  the  point  of  this  would  be 
spoilt  were  the  clauses  made  to  refer  to  different  subjects. 
Moreover  the  reference  to  the  archangel  in  161,  162,  makes  it 
very  awkward  that  "Angel"  in  the  next  line  should  not  refer  to 
him.  Nor  is  it  natural  to  regard  Lycidas  as  an  "Angel"  in 
163  and  simply  a  "hapless  youth"  in  164. 

No  doubt,  there  is  some  abruptness  in  the  transition  from 
Lycidas,  the  "thou"  of  lines  154 — 160;  but  it  is,  I  think, 
intentional.  Shakespeare  and  Milton  use  abruptness  and  ir- 
regularity of  style  to  reflect  strong  emotion.  Now  here  the 
emotion  of  the  speaker  rises  in  a  crescendo  as  he  pictures  the 
body  of  his  friend  washed  about  the  world ;  and  at  last  it  makes 
him  break  into  a  sudden  appeal  to  the  great  archangel  to  show 
the  sympathy  he  yearns  for.  For  a  fine  instance  in  Shakespeare 
of  sudden  change  of  construction  indicating  a  sudden  intense 


154  LYCIDAS. 

consciousness,  %ee  King  Lear,  li.  4.  267,  where  any  emendation 
is  ruinous. 

ruth,  pity;  see  G. 

164.  ye  dolphins.  An  allusion  to  the  classical  story  (a  great 
favourite  with  Elizabethan  writers — see  A  Midsunwier-Night^ s 
Dream,  II.  i.  150)  of  the  Greek  musician  Arion.  On  one 
occasion  the  sailors  of  a  ship  in  which  he  was  returning  with 
many  treasures  from  Sicily  to  his  home  at  Corinth  plotted  his 
murder;  whereupon  he  threw  himself  into  the  sea,  and  was 
carried  safely  to  land  by  a  dolphin  which  had  been  touched 
by  the  strains  of  his  lute.  The  notion  of  dolphins  being  fond  of 
music  is  often  alluded  to  in  poetry. 

They  might  be  expected  to  help  Lycidas  who  "knew  himself 
to  sing"  (10,  11).  Indeed,  another  poem  in  the  Cambridge 
collection  asks,  why  did  not  some  dolphin  save  Edward  King 
from  being  drowned  when  the  vessel  struck  on  the  rock  ? 

waft,  carry,  i.e.  "homeward."  The  word  was  specially  used 
of  carrying,  or  journeying,  over  the  sea.  Cf.  1  Henry  VI.  iv.  i. 
1 14,  "  I  charge  thee  waft  me  safely  cross  the  Channel." 

165 — 185.  This  is  the  concluding  passage  of  the  Monody, 
since  the  last  eight  lines  are  a  kind  of  Epilogue.  We  may 
compare  the  end  of  Milton's  Latin  poem  the  Lament  for 
Damon.  In  each  case  sorrow  dies  away  and  gives  place  to 
consolation — that  through  death  the  lost  friend  has  found  life. 
The  Shepheards  Calender,  November,  and  the  two  elegiac 
poems  on  the  death  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  The  Doleful  Lay  of 
Clorinda  and  The  Mourning  Muse  of  Thestylis,  all  close  on  the 
same  note  of  resignation  and  comfort. 

165.  "This  line  was  evidently  suggested  by  '  Sigh  no  more, 
ladies,  sigh  no  more,'  of  the  Song  in  Much  Ado  About  Nothing, 
[11.  3.  74];  and  they  should  both  be  read  in  the  manner  here 
indicated  " — Keightley.  When  Shakespeare  has  the  same  word 
twice  in  a  line  he  generally  varies  the  accent. 

166.  "He  is  not  dead"  is  the  refrain  of  the  Adonais ;  cf. 
84,  "Our  love,  our  hope,  our  sorrow,  is  not  dead.^^ 

your  sorrow,  he  about  whom  you  sorrow ;  the  abstract  for  the 
concrete.  Cf.  phrases  like  'he  is  the  hope  of  his  family';  so 
with  'anxiety',    'delight,'  etc. 

167.  Jloor,  i.e.  the  "level  (98)  "  surface. 

168.  day-star;  probably  the  sun;  called  the  "diurnal  star" 


NOTES.  I  5  5 

in  Par.  Lost,  x.  1069.  Cf.  Sylvester,  "  While  the  bright  day-star 
rides  his  glorious  round."  But  commonly  day-star  =\.h.Q  morning- 
star,  Lucifer,  and  some  interpret  it  so  here. 

169.  So  Gray,  of  the  setting  sun,  "To  morrow  he  repairs 
his  golden  flood;"  i.e.  the  flood  of  his  light  {The  Bard,  III.  3). 

170.  tricks,  i.e.  dresses  anew;  see  II  Penseroso,  123. 
new-spangled,  i.e.  flashing  with  renewed  brilliancy  because 

washed  in  the  ocean.     Cf.  Comus,  1003. 

171.  Cf.  Coriolanus,  ii.  i.  57,  58,  "one  that  converses... 
with  the  forehead  of  the  morning ; "  doubtless  Milton  knew  the 
passage. 

172.  Perhaps  Milton  remembered  the  Purple  Island,  vi.  71 : 
"That  he  might  mount  to  heav'n,   He  sunk  to  Hell; 

That  he  might  live,  He  di'd;  that  he  might  rise,  He  fell." 

173.  Matthew  xiv.  24 — 31.  The  appropriateness  of  this 
allusion  is  obvious,  seeing  that  Lycidas  had  perished  at  sea. 
Another  contributor  to  the  Cambridge  collection  of  verses 
expresses  the  wish  that  Edward  King  could  have  walked  the 
waves  like  .St  Peter. 

174.  Where,  i.e.  mounted  {172)  to  the  region  where.  For 
the  emphatic  other... other,  implying  better,  cf.  Comus,  612. 
Perhaps  we  are  to  trace  here  an  allusion  to  the  "  living  fountains 
of  waters,"  Revelation  vii.  17,  and  "the  tree  of  life,"  Re^ielation 
xxii.  2.  14.  Richardson  cites  a  very  similar  passage  in  Ariosto, 
Orlando  Furioso,  34,  72. 

175.  Nectar  is  put  to  a  similar  purpose  in  Comus,  838. 
oozy,  i.e.  with  sea-water. 

176.  unexpressive,  inexpressible,  not  to  be  described.  Cf. 
As  You  Like  It,  ill.  2.  10,  "  The  fair,  the  chaste  and  unexpres- 
sive .she."  As  to  the  use  of  the  termination  ive—ible,  see  note 
on  Comus,  349. 

nuptial;  referring,  as  Mr  Jerram  says,  to  the  "marriage  of 
the  Lamb,"  Revelation  xix.  6,  7. 

177.  See  p.  161. 

180.  The  rhythm  and  form  of  the  line  remind  us  of 
Shelley's  To  a  Skylark,  10,  "And  singing  still  dost  soar,  and 
soaring  ever  singest."  See  Tovey's  note  on  Gray,  The  Bard, 
III.  2  ("  Bright  Rapture  calls,  and  soaring  as  she  sings..."). 

181.  wipe  the  tears.  Cf.  Isaiah  xxv.  8,  Rev.  vii.  17,  xxi.  4. 
Milton  has  transferred  the  action  to  the  saints.     Pope  has  a 


1 56  LYCIDAS. 

witty  but  profane  application  of  the  allusion  in  the  Epilogue  to 
the  Satires,  in  which  he  sketches  the  courtier's  ideal  spot : 
*' There,  where  no  father's,  brother's,  friend's  disgrace 
Once  break  their  rest,  or  stir  them  from  their  place: 
But  past  the  sense  of  human  miseries. 
All  tears  are  wip'd  for  ever  from  all  eyes; 
No  cheek  is  known  to  blush,  no  heart  to  throb, 
Save  when  they  lose  a  question  or  a  job." 

183.  the  Genius  of  the  shore,  the  spirit  who  should  watch 
over  that  Welsh  coast  near  which  Edward  King  was  lost. 
According  to  the  classical  belief  every  place  or  individual  had 
a  guardian  spirit  (Gk.  5al/M(jov,  Lat.  genius).  The  chief  character 
in  Arcades  is  the  '  Genius  of  the  Wood.' 

This  introduction  of  a  Pagan  belief  immediately  after  the 
reference  to  the  Scriptural  idea  of  the  'communion  of  saints,' 
and  the  Scriptural  language,  is  another  instance  of  that  blending 
of  the  classics  and  Christianity  which  is  so  marked  a  feature  of 
Lycidas.     Cf.  especially  108 — 131. 

184.  thy  recompense,  i.e.  the  compensation  which  Heaven 
awards  to  Lycidas  for  his  untimely  fate.  He  does  not  perish 
like  an  ordinary  mortal,  but  becomes  a  kind  of  deity  ("Genius"). 

good,  kind,  propitious  (Lat.  bonus). 

186 — 193.  This  concluding  passage,  as  Masson  remarks,  is 
detached  from  the  Monody  itself  so  as  to  form  a  kind  of  Epilogue 
in  which  Milton  "looks  back  on"  his  work  and  "characterises" 
it  by  the  epithets  "  Doric,"  "  tender,"  "  various." 

186.  uncouth;  perhaps  'simple,  rude,'  this  speaker  being  a 
shepherd;  though  such  a  description  of  this  exquisitely  artificial 
and  learned  poem  would  be  a  piece  of  humour.  Or  *  unknown,' 
the  ordinary  Miltonic  sense;  said  in  reference  to  Milton  himself 
being  at  the  time  an  unknown  writer. 

187.  Cf.  Par.  Lost,  vii.  373,  374;  Par.  Regained,  iv.  426, 
427,  where  the  Morning  "Came  forth  with  pilgrim  steps,  in 
amice  gray"  (i.e.  garb,  dress). 

Observe  how  the  effect  of  slowness  produced  by  the  number 
of  monosyllables  suggests  the  gradual  dawning. 

188.  stops  ;  see  Comus,  345,  note,  tender,  because  affected 
by  the  delicate  touch  of  the  fingers.  Or  possibly  referring  to 
the  affectionate  tone  of  the  poem. 

various,  "  in  allusion  to  the  varied  strains  of  the  elegy  (at 


NOTES.  157 

76,  88,  113,  iS'Z,  165).  This  almost  amounts  to  a  recognition 
on  the  part  of  the  poet  of  the  irregularities  of  style,  the  mixture 
of  different  and  even  opposing  themes,  which  some  have  censured 
as  a  defect" — Jerram. 

gzn//s  =  Y>ipQs;  specially  used,  as  here,  of  the  shepherd's  pipe; 
cf.  Tke  Shepheards  Calender^  June.  To  '  tune  the  quill '  was  a 
common  phrase;  cf.  the  MS.  poem  ascribed  to  Milton,  "The 
sacred  sisters  tune  their  quills," 

Johnson  explained  quill  here  to  mean  the  pkctrutti  or  comli 
with  which  the  strings  of  some  instruments  (e.g.  the  lute  or  man- 
dolin) are  struck;  but  according  to  all  tradition  the  shepherd's 
instrument  is  the  pipe. 

189.  thought.  "Care,  great  anxiety;  as  in  the  old  ex- 
pression to  'take  thought.^  ^  Take  no  thought  for  your  life,' 
Matt.  vi.  25" — Dr  Bradshaiv.  The  shepherd's  anxiety  is  to 
compose  a  lament  worthy  of  his  friend. 

Doric;  because  written  in  the  pastoral  style  of  Theocritus 
and  the  other  Sicilian  poets  who  wrote  in  the  Doric  dialect. 
Moschus  calls  Bion  "  the  Dorian  Orpheus  "  and  says  that  with 
him  perished  "the  Dorian  Song"  (Awpis  aoiSd). 

Sir  Henry  Wot  ton  praised  most  in  Coimis  a  "certain  Doric 
delicacy"  in  the  lyrics;  see  p.  4.  So  in  Matthew  Arnold's 
Thyrsis,  **  She  loved  the  Dorian  pipe,  the  Dorian  strain." 
With  poets  of  the  last  century  Doric  quill  (as  in  Collins's  Ode  on 
the  Popular  Sjiperstitions,  ii.)  and  Doric  oat  were  synonyms  for 
*  pastoral  poetry.' 

190.  From  Vergil,  Eclogue  l.  84.  stretched  out,  i.e.  in  their 
shadows ;  the  setting  sun  had  caused  long  shadows  to  be  cast  by 
the  hills.  Cf.  Pope's  imitation,  "And  the  low  sun  had  lengthened 
ev'ry  shade,"  Autiunn,  100. 

i9'2.  At  last,  i.e.  having  composed  his  elegy  from  "morn 
(187)  till  dewy  eve."  twitched,  i.e.  so  as  to  gather  it  about 
him. 

mantle  blue.  "Blue,"  says  Professor  Hales,  "was  the  colour 
of  a  shepherd's  dress,  and  the  poet  here  personates  a  poetic 
shepherd."  Cf.  The  Shepheards  Calender,  November.  Grey, 
however,  seems  to  be  the  colour  more  often  mentioned.  Thus 
Greene  more  than  once  describes  the  shepherd  Paris  as  "all 
clad  in  grey"  when  he  wooed  OEnone.  See  Greene's  Friar 
Bacon  and  Friar  Bungay,  11 1.  69,  where  Dr  Ward's  note  gives 


158  LYCIDAS. 

numerous  instances.     Browne  {Eclogue  ii.)   speaks   of  an   ex- 
travagant shepherd  who  had  two  suits,  one  of  either  colour. 

193.     A  reminiscence  of  Fletcher's  Purple  Island,  vi.  77  : 

"Home  then  my  lambes;  the  falling  drops  eschew: 
To  morrow  shall  ye  feast  in  pastures  new." 
Perhaps  no  line  in  English  poetry  is  more  frequently  misquoted 
than  this  last  verse  of  Lycidas\  even  Shelley,  who  gives  it 
correctly  in  his  Letter  to  Maria  Gisborne  (the  end),  writes  to 
T.  L.  Peacock  (Nov.  18,  1818),  "To  morrow  to  fresh  fields 
and  pastures  new."  Possibly  some  i8th  century  edition  of 
Lycidas  may  be  responsible  for  the  wrong  reading. 

An  accomplished  scholar  writes  to  me :  "  The  reason  for  the 
shepherd's  going  to  new  haunts,  is  that  the  old  ones  are  as- 
sociated with  Lycidas,  and  so  he  cannot  bear  to  feed  his  sheep 
there  alone — a  very  just  idea — and  an  admirable  exit."  I  have 
not  the  least  doubt  that  this  explanation,  which  I  have  never 
seen  in  any  edition  of  Lycidas,  gives  correctly  the  primary 
purport  of  the  line. 

Nor  does  it  seem  to  me  inconsistent  with  the  commonly 
accepted  view  that  there  is  an  underlying  allusion  to  Milton's 
tour  in  Italy.  He  tells  us  in  the  Second  Defence  that  on  the 
death  of  his  mother  he  became  anxious  to  travel.  She  died  in 
April,  1637  :  the  Cambridge  draft  of  Lycidas  is  dated  November. 
1637.  The  Italian  scheme,  therefore,  may  have  occurred  to  him 
before  he  began  this  poem. 

Another  theory  with  reference  to  the  line  is,  that  it  is  a 
covert  way  of  saying  that  Milton  has  finally  separated  himself 
from  the  Anglican  and  Court  party,  and  means  to  identify 
himself  with  the  Puritans.  This  seeems  to  me  very  farfetched. 
The  danger  of  reading  'allusions'  into  a  writer's  words  is  that 
there  can  be  no  definite  limit  to  the  process:  each  may  start  his 
own  theory. 


159 


TEXTUAL  VARIATIONS   IN    LYCIDAS. 

We  give  here  the  textual  variations  between  the  original  MS. 
of  Lycidas,  the  Cambridge  edition  of  1638,  and  that  published 
in  1645.  By  'margin'  are  meant  the  marginal  corrections  in  the 
MS.  Some  of  these  are  not  found  in  the  1638  ed.  :  it  is  fair  to 
assume  that  they  were  made  after  the  volume  had  been  printed. 
'Milton's  copy'  is  the  copy  of  the  first  edition  (now  in  the 
University  Library  at  Cambridge)  which  has  a  few  corrections 
in  the  poet's  handwriting.  Differences  of  reading  are  marked 
by  italic  type  : 

11.  3-5. 
'  I  come  to  pluck  your  berries  harsh  and  crude 
before  the  mellowing  year e  and  w*^  forc't  fingers  rude 
and  crop  yor  young  shatter  your  leaves  before  the  mt  llow- 
ing  yeare.' 
The  words  in  italics  are  crossed  out.     Milton  may  have  intended 
the  last  line  to  run — 'and  crop  yor  young  leaves  w***  forc't  fingers 
rude.'     Having   got   as  far  as  young  he   stopped,   struck    out 
11.  4 — 5,  and  with  slight  verbal  changes  transposed  the  verses 
so  as  to  alter  the  sequence  of  rhymes. 

8.     MS.  '  iox young  Lycidas ;'  young  erased. 

10.  MS.  'he  w^// knew.' 

11.  MS.  '  To  bid  ; '  changed  to  ^and  bid.' 

26.  MS.  ''glimmermg  eyelids;'  corrected  to  opening;  yet  the 
1638  ed.  \\3i%  glifumering. 

30.  MS.  'Oft  till  the  ev'n-starre  bright'  (erased);  margin, 
'starre  that  rose  in  Ev'ning  bright;''  1638  ed.  again  gives  the 
earlier  reading. 

31.  MS.  '■burnisht  weele;'  corrected,  %vestring ;  but  burnisht 
in  1638  ed. 

39.  1638  ed.  has  'Thee  shepherds,  thee;'  i.e.  the  shepherds 
are  made  to  mourn ;  perhaps  a  misprint. 

47.  MS.  'gay  butto7is  weare;'  weare  changed  to  beare ;  finally 
wardrope  weare  substituted.  For  spelling  of  wardrobe  see  note 
on  this  line.  Buttons  =  \i\x.di%,  as  in  Ha7nlet,  I.  3.  40,  or  The 
Noble  Kinsmen,  iii.  i.  6,  "gold  buttons  on  the  boughs."  Fr. 
bouton  means  a  button  or  a  bud. 


l60  TEXTUAL   VARIATIONS. 

51.  MS.  repeats }'our,  by  mistake;  1638  ed.  ^/ofd  Lycidas;' 
corrected  in  Milton's  copy  to  ''  lovd  Lycidas.' 

53.     1638  ed.  ''the  old  bards;'  corrected  in  Milton's  copy. 
58—63.     MS.  had: 

a.  'What  could  the  golden-hayrd  Calliope 

b.  For  her  inchaunting  son, 

c.  When  shee  beheld  {the  gods  farre  sighted  bee) 

d.  His  goarie  scalpe  roivle  do7vne  the  Thracian  lee:* 

a,  c,  d  are  crossed  out:  b  left.    After  b  (i.e.  1.  59)  the  margin  has: 

e.  'Whome  universal  nature  might  lament 
/.      And  heaven  and  hel  deplore, 

g.  When  his  divine  head  downe  the  streame  was  sent  : ' 
/is  crossed  out,  also  ^  as  far  as  doume,  and  e  left.  Then  on  the 
opposite  page  Milton  rewrote  the  whole  passage  from  1.  58  just 
as  we  have  it,  except  that,  (i)  after  writing  'might  lament'  he 
substituted  did ;  (ii)  he  wrote  'divine  visage'  and  changed  it  to 
'goarie  visage,'  cf.  goarie  in  d  snpra ;  (iii)  after  1.  59  (as  it  now 
stands)  he  repeated  the  words  'for  her  inchaunting  son,'  intending 
them  to  form  a  short  line.  No  doubt,  he  finally  rejected  them 
because  he  had  already  used  the  artifice  of  repetition  in  'The 
Muse  herself,'  11.  58,   59. 

d^.     1638  ed.  misprints  stridly  for  strictly. 

67.     1638  ed.  'others  do  ;'  altered  in  Milton's  copy  to  use. 

69.  MS.  'hid  in  the  tangles ;'  margin  'or  zvilh  the  tangles;' 
but  1638  ed.  'hidin."" 

82.  1638  ed.  has  the  spelling  perfect.,  the  only  place  (I 
believe)  where  it  occurs  in  Milton:  perfet  in   1645  ed. 

85.  MS.  'smooth  ^ooA,^  smooth  erased ;  margin y^w'^?,  erased ; 
then  honoJir''d. 

86.  MS.  'j<7/?-sliding;'  5^  crossed  out,  margin  smooth;  1.  85 
was  probably  changed  after  1.  86.        103.     1638  ed.  Chamus. 

105.  MS. ' sera nFd ore \^'\\\i  figures;'  not  crossed  out,  though 
inwrought  is  written  in  margin. 

1 10.     MS.  *  Toiv  massy;'  cf.  1.  130. 

114.     MS.  Ammgh  ;  1638  ed.  enough  ;  1645  ed.  ano-io. 

129.  MS.  ^nothing  sed;'  changed  to  little;  1638  ed.  little; 
but  1645  ed.  nothing. 

130.  MS.  to7u-handed ;  cf.   110. 

131.  1638  ed.  smites  instead  of  smite. 

138.     MS.  'sparely  looks;'  sparely  erased;  margin  stintly,  or 


TEXTUAL  VARIATIONS.  l6l 

the  word  may  be  faintly,  the  writing  being  indistinct ;  this  was 
erased  and  sparely  re-substituted. 

139.     MS.  Bring,  crossed  out;  margin  throw. 
142 — 150.     Of  this  passage  the  MS.  presents  two  versions  ; 
the  first,  through  which  Milton  ran  his  pen,  reads  thus: 
'  Bring  the  rathe  primrose  that  nmvedded  dies 
Colouring  the  pale  cheeke  of  tminjoyd  love. 
And  that  sad  Jlozvre  that  strove 
To  write  his  own  woes  on  the  vermeil  graine ; 
Next  adde  Narcissus  yt  still  weeps  in  vaine, 
The  woodbine  and  ye  pancie  freakt  w*^  jet, 
The  glowing  violet, 

The  cowslip  wan  that  hangs  his  pensive  head 
And  every  hid  that  sorrotus  liverie  weares, 
Let  Daffadillies  fill  thire  cups  with  teares, 
Bid  Amaranthus  all  his  beautie  shed 
To  strew  the  laureate  herse' — 
Underneath  this  follows  the  second  version.     The  first  four  lines 
are  identical  with  those  in  the  printed  editions  :  then  the  MS. 
continues  : 

'  The  musk -rose  and  the  garish  columbine 
With  cowslips  wan  that  hang  the  pensive  head, 
And  every  flower  that  sad  escutcheon  bears ;'' 
the  last  couplet  is  as  in  the  earlier  passage. 

Garish  columbine  is  struck  out,  and  well-atti/d  tvoodbitte 
(cf.  the  first  draft)  substituted.  'Escutcheon  bears''  is  changed 
to  wears;  then,  in  the  margin,  to  'imbroidrie  bears ;'  and  finally 
to  'imbroidrie  wears,''  Against  the  concluding  couplet — 'Let 
Daffadillies' — Milton  wrote  '2.  i';  showing  that  the  order 
was  to  be  reversed,  while  let  was  altered  to  and. 

153.  MS.  '  j^i/ thoughts ; '  j^^  crossed  out  and /V^z'/i?  written 
over  it. 

J  54.     MS.  floods,  erased  ;  margin  shoars. 
157.     MS.  ^humfning  txde;^  altered  to  tvhehning 'va.  margin 
of  MS.  and  in  Milton's  copy;  but  the  1638  ed.  has  humm'mg. 
160.     MS.  Corineus,  erased  ;  margin  Bellerus. 

176.  MS.  '■Listening the  unexpressive ;'  ««a'//mr^i  substituted. 

177.  Omitted  in  1638  ed.  ;  inserted  in  Milton's  copy,  as  in 
1645  ed. 

191.     There  is  some  change  in  MS.,  but  it  is  not  legible. 

V.  C  II 


1 62 


GLOSSARY. 

Abbreviations : — 

A.S.  =  Anglo-Saxon,    i.e.    English    down    to    about    the 
Conquest. 

Middle  E.=  Middle  English,  i.e.  English  from  about  the 
Conquest  to  about  1500. 

Elizabethan    E.  =  the    English    of    Shakespeare    and    his 
contemporaries  (down  to  about  1650). 

O.F.  =  01d    French,    i.e.    till    about    1600.      F,=  modern 
French. 

Germ.  =  modern  German.     Gk.  =Greek. 

Ital.  =  Italian.     Lat.  =  Latin. 

NOTE :  In  using  the  Glossary  the  student  should  pay  very 
careful  attention  to  the  context  in  which  each  word  occurs. 

alabaster,  Com.  660,  sulphate  of  lime;  Gk.  cCKa^aarpos, 
said  to  be  derived  from  the  name  of  a  town,  Alabastrofi,  in 
Egypt.  Misspelt  alablaster  in  the  original  editions,  as  commonly 
in  Elizabethan  writers. 

alley,  'a  path,  walk,'  especially  one  with  trees  overhead 
{Com.  311),  as  in  a  garden  (990).  Cf  Much  Ado  About  Nothing, 
I.  •z.  10,  "a  thick-pleached  alley,"  i.e.  thickly  interwoven  over- 
head; and  Tennyson,  Ode  to  Memory,  "plaited  alleys  of  the 
trailing  rose."     F.  allee. 

anon,  Lye.  169,  'soon,  presently.*  A.S.  on  dn^  'in  one,'  i.e. 
one  moment. 


GLOSSARY.  163 

ambrosial ;  used  by  Milton  of  that  which  delights  the  sense 
of  smell  {Com.  16,  840)  or  taste.  Strictly,  ambrosia  =  \hQ  food 
of  the  gods,  as  nectar=ihe'n  drink. 

aspect,  Com.  694.  Shakespeare  always  accents  aspect. 
Many  words  now  accented  on  the  first  syllable  were  in 
Elizabethan  E.  accented  on  the  second  syllable,  i.e.  they  re- 
tained the  French  accent,  which  (roughly  speaking)  was  that  of 
the  original  Latin  words.  By  "accent"  one  means,  of  course, 
the  stress  laid  by  the  voice  on  any  syllable  in  pronouncing  it. 
Thus  Milton  wrote  "By  policy  and  long  process  of  time  "  {Par. 
Lost,  II.  297) ;  cf.  French  proccs,  Lat,  processus.  So  Shakespeare 
scans  access,  commerce,  edict,  when  it  suits  him. 

asphodil.  Com.  838;  Gk.  d(r065eXoy,  a  kind  of  lily  supposed 
to  flourish  especially  in  the  Elysian  fields.  Daffodil  {Co7n.  851) 
is  a  corruption  of  0.0^0^^X0%  through  Low  Lat.  affoclilltis ;  now 
used  of  a  different  flower,  viz.  iXve.  pseiido-narcisstts.  Skeat  thinks 
that  the  d  may  represent  F.  de  \njleur  d''affrodille. 

assay.  Com.  972,  '  trial,  test.'  The  form  always  used  by 
Milton.  To  assay  metals  is  to  test  them.  Cf.  O.F.  essai  and 
the  variant  form  assai;  Lat.  exaginm,  *  a  weighing,  trial  of 
weight.' 

ay  me,  Com.  511,  Lye.  56,  'alas.'  O.F.  aymi,  'alas  for  me!' 
cf.  Gk.  otjxoL. 

azum,  Com.  893  ;  perhaps  formed  from  the  noun  azure,  like 
silvern  from  silver,  where  -n  =  the  suflix  -en,  as  in  wooden,  woollen. 
Some  think  that  Milton,  with  his  fondness  for  Italian,  coined 
azurn  from  Ital.  azzurrino.  Instances  of  his  leaning  towards 
half  Italian  forms  are  sdein  (Ital.  sdegnare),  serenate  (Ital.  serenata), 
sovran,  harald  {Ital.  araldo).  See  Par.  Lost,  I.  752,  II.  518,  iv. 
50.  769. 

balm  ;  properly  the  aromatic  oily  resin  of  the  dalsam-tree  : 
then  any  fragrant  oil  or  ointment  for  anointing,  soothing  pain, 
and  so  any  fragrant  or  soothing  liquid  (as  in  Com.  674).  Hence 
balmy  =' fragrant'  {Com.  991). 

batten,  Lye.  29,  'to  fatten.'  From  the  .-ame  root  signifying 
'excellence,  prosperity,'  as  better,  best.  Germ,  besser. 

be.  The  root  he  was  conjugated  in  the  present  tense  in- 
dicative, singular  and  plural,  up  till  about  the  middle  of  the 
17th  century.  The  singular,  indeed,  was  almost  limited  in 
Elizabethan   E.    to  the  phrase  "if  thou   beesf,^''  where  the  in- 

II — 2 


164  COM  us   AND   LYCIDAS. 

dicative  beest  has  the  force  of  the  subjunctive  ;  cL  The  Tempest, 
V.  134,  "if  thou  be'st  Prospero."  For  the  plural  cf.  Genesis  xlii. 
32,  "We  be  twelve  brethren,"  and  Matthew  xv.  14,  "they  be 
blind  leaders  of  the  blind." 

blank,  Coin.  452,  'dismayed.'  Cf.  the  verb  blank=^X.o 
confound'  in  Samson  Agonistes,  471,  literally  'to  make  to  blanch 
or  blench,  i.e.  become  white  '  (F.  blanc). 

blow,  Lye.  48,  'to  flower';  cf.  Germ,  bliihen.  Cognate 
with  bloom,  blossoju. 

bolt,  or  boult,  Com.  760,  'to  sift,  refine.'  O.F.  buleter,Si 
corruption  of  bureter,  'to  sift  through  coarse  red  cloth'  (Low 
Lat.  burra,  'red  cloth,'  from  the  root  of  Gk.  trvp,  'fire').  For 
r softening  into  /  in  French  cf  'pe/erin,'  'a  pilgrim,'  Lat.  'pere- 
grinus. ' 

boot,  A.S.  bot^  'advantage,  good,'  from  the  same  root  as 
better,  best.  "There  is  no  boot^^  {Richard  II.  i.  i.  164) 
exactly='it  is  no  good.''  Common  as  an  impersonal  verb,  e.g. 
"what  boots  it?"  [Lye.  64)  ='what  good  is  it?' 

bosky,  Co?n.  313,  'covered  with  bushes,  shrubs';  bosk 
(whence  bosk-y,  like  bush-y  from  bush)  meant  a  bush  or  clump  of 
bushes.     Cognate  with  bush,  bouquet,  F.  bois,  'wood.' 

bourn.  Com.  313,  'a  brook';  the  same  as  north-country 
burn;  akin  to  Germ,  brtmnen,  'a  spring.'  Cf.  Bourne-vi\Q)\x\\\. 
Distinct  from  bourn,  'a  limit'  (F.  borne). 

brinded,  Coin.  443  ;  an  older  form  than  brindled;  it  means 
literally  'marked  as  with  a  brand,*  and  generally  indicates 
stripes  of  dark  colour  on  the  tawny  coat  of  an  animal.  Cf 
"the  brinded  cat,"  Macbeth,  iv,    i.    i. 

brown,  Lye.  2 ;  a  favourite  epithet  with  Milton,  and  the 
1 8th  century  poets  influenced  by  his  diction,  in  the  sense 
'dark'  =  Ital.  bruno)  especially  of  shade,  twilight.  Cf  // 
Pensei-oso,  134,  "shadows  brown";  Pope,  Odyssey,  x\ii.  215, 
"brown  evening  spreads  her  shade." 

budge.  Com.  707.  Skeat  says:  "a  kind  of  fur.  Budge 
is  lamb  skin  with  the  wool  dressed  outwards ;  orig.  simply 
'skin' — F.  bouge.  a  wallet,  g^eat  pouch,  Lat.  bulga,  a  little  bag, 
a  word  of  Gaulish  origin."  He  refers  to  the  same  root  the  word 
btidget='a.  leathern  l)ag,'  in  The  IVinter^s  Tale,  iv.  3.  20. 
Others  connect  with  O.F.  bouchet,  'a  kid,'  because  an  old 
writer  says  that  budge  was  the  fur  of  kids. 


GLOSSARY.  165 

character,  Com.  530,  'to  stamp.'  Gk.  xapa/cTTyp,  'a  stamp 
on  a  coin,  seal,  etc.,  engraved  mark.'  For  a  good  instance  of  its 
strict  use  cf.  The  Faerie  Queene,  v.  6.  2  : 

"Whose  character  in  th'  Adamantine  mould 
Of  his  true  heart  so  firmely  was  engraved.''* 

clime,  Cojti.  977,  'land,  country';  cf.  2  Henry  VI.  iii.  2. 
84,  "Drove  back  again  unto  my  native  clime."  Gk.  K\l/j.a, 
'a  slope,'  from  KKiveiv,  'to  slope.'  Clime  and  climate  are 
'doublets,'  and  each  meant  'region,'  then  'temperature,'  the 
most  important  quality  of  a  region. 

clouted,  Com.  635,  'patched,  mended';  cf.  Joshua  ix.  5, 
"old  shoes  and  clouted  upon  their  feet."  A.S.  clut,  'a 
patch. ' 

cozen,  Com.  737.  According  to  the  common  (but  not  certain) 
explanation,  to  cozen  a  man  is  to  pretend  to  be  his  cousin  for  the 
purpose  of  getting  something  out  of  him :  whence  '  to  cheat. ' 

curfew,  Com.  435  ;  literally  the  signal  to  cover  up  (i.e.  put 
out)  the  fire — F.  couvrir-\-feu. 

discover,  'to  lay  open  to  view,  reveal,'  literally  'uncover,' 
F.  decouvrir.  Often  in  stage-directions;  cf.  Ben  Jonson's  Masque 
of  Beauty,  "Here  a  curtain  was  drawn  [aside]  and  the  scene 
discovered." 

ditty,  used  strictly  of  the  words  of  a  song  {Lye.  32),  but  in 
Com.  86  of  the  music ;  cf.  smootli-dittied=  'with  smooth-flowing 
air.'  From  Lat.  dictatum  '  something  dictated ' ;  not  from 
dictum. 

engine.  Lye.  130.  Properly  'a  contrivance,' i.e.  something 
made  with  ingenuity  (Lat.  ingeniiwi)\  hence  'instrument.'  In 
the  early  translations  of  the  Bible  it  is  used  of  implements  of 
war.  Mayhew  quotes  2  Chron.  xxvi.  15,  in  the  Douay  (1609) 
version,  "  He  made  in  Jerusalem  engines  of  diverse  kind." 

faery,  Co7n.  118,  435;  originally  a  collective  noun  = 'fairy 
folk,  fairy  land,  enchantment';  cf.  the  title  of  The  Faerie 
Qiieene.  Late  Lat.  fata,  'a  fairy,'  formed  from  the  plural  of 
fatum,  'fate.' 

flashy,  Lye.  123,  'tasteless';  literally  'watery,'  being  con- 
nected with  an  old  word  Jlasshe,  *a  pool,'  F.  flaque.  Bacon 
in  his  Essay  Of  Studies  describes  a  certain  class  of  books  as 
"flashy  things,"  where  his  Latin  translation  has  insipidus. 

foil,  Lye.  79,  'gold  or  silver  leaf.'     F.  feuille^  Lat.  folium. 


l66  COMUS  AND   LYCIDAS. 

Cf.  Florio's  Dictionary  (1598),  "Foglia,  a  leafe,  a  sheete,  a  foile 
to  set  vnder  precious  stones." 

fond,  Com.  67,  'foolish,' its  old  meaning.  Hence  fondly  = 
'foolishly'  {Lye.  56).     Originally yi^w^ was  the  p.  p.  of  a  Middle 

E.  \^ih  fonnen,  'to  act  like  a  fool,'  from  the  noun  /on,  'a  fool.' 
The  root  is  Scandinavian. 

founder;  properly  'to  sink  to  the  bottom,'  1^2tX.  ftmdus ;  cf. 

F.  s'effondrer,  'to  sink.'     Hence  night-foundered  =' plunged  in 
night'  {Com.  483). 

fraught,  Com.  355,  '  laden,  filled ' ;  the  abbreviated  p.  p. 
{fraicghted \w?i?>  rarely  used)  of  the  verb /nz«^-^/,  'to  load' — see 
Cymbeline,  I.  i.  126 — which  is  now  obsolete  except  in  this  p.  p. 
Akin  probably  to  freight. 

gloze,  or  glose,  Com.  161,  'to  speak  falsely,  to  flatter.' 
Middle  E.  glosen  meant  'to  make  glosses,  explain,'  from  Late 
Lat.  glossa,  Gk.  y\Q<xaa,  which  signified  (i)  the  tongue,  (2)  a 
language,  (3)  a  word,  (4)  an  explanation  of  a  word.  The  verb 
glosen  got  the  idea  '  to  explain /a/j^/>','  whence  'to  deceive.'  So 
^/^sm_^= 'deceptive';  cf.  George  Herbert,  The  Dotage,  "False 
glozing  pleasures."     Especially  used  of  flattering,  false  speech. 

goblin,  Com.  436.  Late  Lat.  gobelinus,  a  diminutive  of  Lat. 
cobalus,  ^a.  mountain-sprite,  demon '  =  Gk.  ko^oKos,  'a  rogue,'  or 
'a  goblin  supposed  to  befriend  rogues.' 

grain.  Com.  750;  O.F.  graine='Low  Lat.  granum,  which, 
like  the  classical  Lat.  cocciim  ('a  berry'),  was  used  of  the  scarlet 
dye  made  from  the  cochineal  insect  found  on  the  scarlet  oak, 
the  insect  being  like  a  berry  or  seed.  Properly  therefore  grain 
=  ' scarlet  hue,'  but  Elizabethan  poets  seem  to  use  it  in  the  ex- 
tended sense  'hue,  colour.'  As  grain  was  a  very  strong  dye, 
so  that  the  colour  of  cloth  dyed  in  grain  never  washed  out  but 
seemed  to  be  part  of  the  texture  itself,  the  word  came  to  signify 
'texture,  fibre,'  of  cloth  or  wood.  An  ing}'ained  fault  is  one  that 
has  become  of  the  very  texture  of  a  man's  character. 

griesly,  Com.  603,  'horrible';  cognate  -^'xth  grjiesotne  and 
Germ,  gransig,  griisslich.  Cf.  The  Faerie  Queene,  ill.  i.  17, 
"Lo!    where  a  griesly  foster  forth  did  rush"  (i.e.  forester). 

guerdon,  Lye.  73,  'recompense,  return.'  Through  O.F. 
from  Lat.  luiderdonum,  "a  singular  compound  of  the  Old  High 
German  undar,  back  again,  and  Lat.  donum,  a  gift" — Skeal. 
Literally  therefore  *a  giving  back,'  whether  good  or  evil. 


GLOSSARY.  167 

his;  this  was  the  ordinary  neuter  (as  well  as  masculine) 
possessive  pronoun  in  Middle  E.  and  remained  so  in  Elizabethan 
E.  Cf.  Genesis  iii.  15,  "  it  shall  bruise  thy  head,  and  thou  shalt 
bruise  his  heel."  There  was  also  a  use,  not  common,  of  it 
(Middle  E.  hit)  as  a  possessive,  though  uninflected ;  especially 
in  the  phrase  it  own.  Cf.  The  Tempest^  II.  i.  163,  "of  it  own 
kind,"  and  the  Bible  of  161 1  in  Leviticus  xxv.  5,  "of  it  owne 
accord."  This  possessive  use  of  ?V  without  own  to  strengthen  it 
seems  to  have  been  somewhat  familiar  in  Elizabethan  E. ,  applied 
especially  to  children;  cf.  The  Winter'' s  Tale,  iii.  2.  loi,  "The 
innocent  milk  in  it  most  innocent  mouth." 

Then  from  the  possessive  use  of  it  uninflected  there  arose, 
about  the  close  of  the  i6th  century,  the  inflected  form  its  in 
which  -s  is  the  usual  possessive  inflection,  as  in  his.  This  new 
form  its  came  into  use  slowly,  the  old  idiom  his  being  generally 
retained  by  EHzabethans.  There  are  no  instances  of  its  in 
Spenser  or  the  Bible  (1611),  and  only  three  in  Milton's  poetical 
works  {Paradise  Lost,  I.  254,  iv.  813,  Nativity  Ode,  106).  Its 
does  not  occur  in  any  extant  work  of  Shakespeare  printed  prior 
to  his  death:  hence  it  seems  not  improbable  that  the  nine 
instances  in  the  ist  Folio  (five  in  a  single  play,  The  Winter's 
Tale)  were  due  to  the  editors  or  printers  of  the  Folio. 

hutcli,  Com.  'Jig,  'to  enclose.'  F.  huche,  'a  hutch,  bin,' 
Low  Lat.  hiUica ;  probably  from  same  root  as  Germ,  hiiten,  'to 
guard.'     A  bolting-hutch  is  the  bin  into  which  flour  is  sifted. 

influence,  Com.  336 ;  late  Lat.  injluentia,  literally  '  a  flowing 
in  upon'  (Lat.  in^-Jluere).  An  astrological  term  applied 
to  the  power  over  the  earth,  men's  characters,  fortunes  etc., 
which  was  supposed  to  descend  from  the  celestial  bodies.  Cf. 
"planetary  influence,"  King  Lear,  i.  2.  136;  "skyey  influences," 
Measure  for  Measure,  ill.  i.  9.  Other  terms  due  to  astrology 
are  '■^x^aster''  (Lat.  astrtcm,  *a  star'),  'iW-starred,''  'jovial,' 
'saturnine.' 

inherit;  then  often  used  =  ' to  have,  possess,'  without  (as 
now)  the  notion  of  'heirship'  (Lat.  heres,  'an  heir').  Cf. 
in  the  Prayer-Book,  "And  bless  thine  inheritance" — that  is, 
'thy  peculiar  possession,  thy  people.'  Hence  disinherit,  'to 
make  to  cease  to  have,  to  dispossess'  {Com.  334). 

inure.  Com.  735,  'to  accustom,'  Hterally  'to  bring  into 
practice'  {  —  tire).     For  the  obsolete  noun  ure  (F.  <£uvre,  'work,' 


l68  COMUS   AND   LYCIDAS. 

Lat.  opera)  cf.  Bacon's  Essay  Of  Simulation,  "lest  his  hand  should 
be  out  of  lire,"  i.e.  out  of  practice.     Cf.  'man«r(f.' 

laver,  Com.  838,  'a  vessel  for  washing';  Lat.  lavare,  *to 
wash';  cf  lave,  Lye.  175.  The  laver  mentioned  in  i  Kings  vii. 
30  was  a  large  basin  in  the  Temple  for  the  ablution  of  the 
priests. 

lawn;  properly  {Co}n.  568,  965)  an  open  grass-covered  space 
in  a  wood,  like  the  glades  in  the  New  Forest;  hence  a  poetical 
word  for  any  'pasture'  {Lye.  25),  'green.'  Perhaps  cognate 
with  F.  lande^  'waste  land';  cf.  the  lancies  or  waste  country 
south  of  Bordeaux. 

lewd.  Com.  465;  Middle  E.  lewed=A.S).  Icewed.  Its  suc- 
cessive meanings  were:  (1)  'enfeebled,'  Icewed  [—gelewed)  being 
the  past  participle  of  hewan,  'to  weaken';  (2)  then  'ignorant'  ; 
then  (3)  'bad';  then  (4)  'lustful,'  i.e.  bad  in  a  particular  way. 
From  (2)  arose  also  the  sense  'lay,  belonging  to  the  laity,' 
because  the  laity  compared  with  the  clergy  were  ignorant. 

lickerish,  Com.  700,  'dainty';  something  pleasant  to  liek. 
Cf.  the  cognate  F.  lecher,  'to  lick';  Germ,  leckerei,  'dainties.' 

list,  'to  wish,  please';  commonly  a  present  {Lye.  123), 
rarely  a  preterite  [Com.  49).  Shakespeare  once  has  listed ;  cf. 
Richard  III.  ill.  5.  84,  "his  savage  \\fd,xi .. .listed  to  make  his 
prey."  Akin  to  lust,  which  often  meant  'pleasure,'  as  does 
Germ,  lust ;  cf,  Psaliti  xcii.  10,  "Mine  eye  also  shall  see  his  lust 
of  mine  enemies"  (Prayer-Book). 

livery.  Com.  455;  in  Elizabethan  E.  =  'any  kind  of  dress, 
garb';  cf.  V Allegro,  62,  "The  clouds  in  thousand  liveries 
dight."  Originally  livery  meant  whatever  was  given  (i.e.  de- 
livered) by  a  lord  to  his  household,  whether  food,  money  or 
garments.     From  F.  livrer. 

lull,  Com.  260;  an  imitative  word  formed  from  lu  In 
hummed  by  nurses  in  composing  children  to  sleep.  Hence 
lullaby. 

madrigal,  Com.  495;  Ital.  madrigale,  'a  pastoral  song,'  from 
Gk.  ixavopa,  *a  fold,  stable.'  The  madrigal  was  one  of  the  most 
characteristic  forms  of  old  English  music. 

main,  Com.  28;  Icelandic  megin,  'mighty,'  common  in 
compounds,  e.g.  megin-sjdr,  'mighty  sea';  from  the  same  root 
as  Gk.  /jL^yas,  Lat.  magnus:  whence  also  mickle  (Com.  31) 
or  fnicel,   'great,'  Middle  E.  michcl  or  muchel  (cf.   much). 


GLOSSARY.  169 

meed ;  properly  '  reward '  {Lye.  84)  rather  than  '  tribute  ' 
{Lye.  14).     From  the  same  root  as  Gk.  /xiadds,  '  pay.' 

methinks  ;  methought,  Com.  171,  482.  These  are  really 
impersonal  constructions  such  as  were  much  used  in  pre- 
Elizabethan  E. ;  their  meaning  is,  'it  seems,  or  seemed,  to  me.' 
The  pronoun  is  a  dative,  and  the  verb  is  not  the  ordinary  verb 
'to  think''  —  A.S.  \>encan,  but  an  obsolete  impersonal  verb  'to 
seem^  =  A.S.  \>ynean.  These  cognate  verbs  got  confused  through 
their  similarity;  the  distinction  between  them  as  regards  usage 
and  sense  is  shown  in  Milton's  Paradise  Regained,  II.  266, 
^' Him  thought  he  by  the  brook  of  Cherith  stood"='to  him 
it  seemed  that'  etc.  Cf.  their  German  cognates  denken,  *to 
think,'  used  personally,  and  the  impersonal  es  diinkt,  'it  seems' ; 
also  the  double  use  of  Gk.  doKelv.  For  the  old  impersonal 
constructions  cf.  Spenser,  Frothalamion  60,  ''^  Them  seem'd  they 
never  saw  a  sight  so  fayre." 

nice;  Lat.  nescius,  'ignorant.'  It  first  meant  'foolish,'  as  in 
Chaucer;  then  'foolishly  particular,  fastidious,  prudish'  {Coin. 
139);  then  'subtly,'  since  fastidiousness  implies  drawing  fine, 
subtle  distinctions.  The  original  notion  'foolish'  often  affects 
the  Elizabethan  uses  of  the  word,  which  is  noticeable  as  having 
improved  in  sense. 

ore,  Coi?i.  "Jig,  933,  Lye.  170,  'metal';  A.S.  <^r,  'unrefined 
metal';  cf.  Germ.  erz.  Sometimes  Elizabethan  writers  use 
<7r^='gold,'  i.e.  through  confusion  of  sound  with  Lat.  aurum. 
Thus  it  means  'precious  metal'  in  Hamlet,  iv.   i.  25. 

orient,  'bright,  lustrous';  in  Elizabethan  poetry  a  constant 
epithet  of  gems,  especially  pearls.  Perhaps,  used  thus,  it  first 
meant  '  eastern,'  gems  coming  from  the  Orient  or  East ;  then  as 
these  were  bright  it  got  the  notion  'lustrous.'  Commonly  Milton 
applies  it  to  liquids  {Com.  65)  or  jewels;  cf.  "orient  pearl," 
Par.  Lost,  v.    2. 

pert,  Com.  118.  Shakespeare  always  uses  it  in  a  good 
sense  =  ' lively,  alert';  cf.  A  Alidsiwimer-Nighfs  Dream,  I.  i. 
13,  "Awake  the  pert  and  nimble  spirit  of  youth."  Middle  E. 
pert  is  another  form  oi perk,  'smart';  it  got  its  bad  sense  'saucy' 
through  confusion  with  malapei-t,  from  Lat.  male  +  expert  us, 
'too  experienced,'  hence   'too  sharp,'  'saucy.' 

pester,  Com.  7,  'to  shackle,  clog.'  Short  for  impester=¥. 
empHrer,  which  "signifies  properly  to  hobble  a  horse  while  he 


lyo  COMUS   AND    LYCIDAS. 

feeds  afield" — Bracket;  from  Lat.  /«,  'on,  upon '  + medieval 
Lat.  pasioritim,  'a  clog  for  horses  at  pasture.'  From  *to 
shackle'  follows  naturally  the  sense  'to  annoy,  bother.' 

pinfold,  Co}?i.  7,  'a  pound,  i.e.  enclosure  for  strayed  cattle.' 
Short  for  '/mo'- fold,'  from  A.S.  pyndan,  'to  pen  up.'  Cognate 
with  pound.     Cf.  "  Lipsbury  pinfold,"  King  Lear^  II.  2.  8. 

plea.  Lye.  90.  O.Y.  plait,  Late  Lat.  placittim,  *a  decision,' 
i.e.  'the  pleasure  of  the  Court  or  Judge'  (from  placere,  'to  please^). 

plig-hted,  Com.  301,  'folded.'  Spenser  msqs  plight  =' {old' 
both  as  noun  and  verb;  cf.  The  Faerie  Queene,  II.  3.  26,  "many 
a  folded  plight,"  and  Vi.  7.  43,  "And  on  his  head  a  roll  of  linen 
plight."  Cf.  the  cognate  plait  (or  pleat)  and  F.  ///,  plier ;  all 
from  Lat.  plicare,  'to  fold.' 

prank,  CV;//.  759,  "  to  deck,  adorn ' ;  cf.  The  Winter's  Tale, 
IV.  4,  ro,  "  most  goddess-like  pranked  up."  A  favourite  word 
with  Her  rick;  cf.  The  Hai-vest  Hotne,  "Some  prank  them  up 
w^ith  oaken  leaves."  Akin  to  prance  (properly  '  to  make  a  show  ) , 
and  Germ. prunk,  'pomp.' 

prevent,  Cofu.  285,  'to  anticipate';  hsLt.  pr^svenire,  'to  come 
before.'  Cf.  Psalm  cxix.  148,  "mine  eyes  prevent  the  night 
watches." 

purfled,  Com.  995,  'embroidered';  cf.  The  Faerie  Queene, 
I.  2.  13,  "Purfled  with  gold  and  pearle  of  rich  assay."  F. 
poui'Jile  {fil,  'a  thread,'  'L2ii.Jilum).  The  word  survives  m purl, 
a  term  used  in  lace-making. 

purchase,  Cojn.  607,  '  booty,  prey.'  The  verb  meant  first  to 
hunt  after  (¥ .  pour  +  chasser) ;  "  then  to  take  in  hunting  ;  then  to 
acquire;  and  then,  as  the  commonest  way  of  acquiring  is  by 
giving  money  in  exchange,  to  buy" — Trench.  The  sense  'to 
acquire,  gain '  is  common  in  Elizabethan  E.  Cf.  i  Timothy 
iii.  13,  "they  that  have  used  the  office  of  a  deacon  well  purchase 
to  themselves  a  good  degree'  (Revised  Version  'gain'). 

quaint,  Lye.  139,  'dainty.'  Derived  through  O.F.  coint  (torn 
Lat.  cognitus,  '  well-known  ' ;  cf.  acquaint  from  Lat.  adcognitare. 
The  original  sense  (i)  was  'knowing,  wise';  cf.  Hampole's 
Psalter,  Ps.  cxix.  98,  "Abouen  myn  enmys  quaynt  thou  me 
made,"  i.e.  "wiser  than  mine  enemies."  But  (2)  through  a 
false  notion  that  it  came  from  Lat.  comptus,  '  trimmed,  adorned,' 
quaint  lost  its  old  sense  'knowing'  and  got  the  sense  'trim, 
dainty,  neat' — which  it  has  always  in   Shakespeare;   cf.  "my 


GLOSSARY.  171 

quaint  Ariel,"  The  Tempest,  i.  2.  317.  Perhaps  (3)  quamt= 
'  odd,  eccentric  '  arose  from  the  notion  '  too  trim,  over- 
fine.' 

quire,  Com.  iiz.  An  older  form  oi  choir,  Lat.  chorus ;  cf. 
O.F.  qtier  and  F.  choeur.  "In  Quires  and  places  where  they 
sing,"  Prayer-Book. 

rapt.  Com.  794,  '  transported.'  It  should  be  written  rapped, 
being  the  past  participle  of  an  old  verb  rap,  'to  seize  hurriedly'; 
cf.  Cyvibeline,  I.  6.  51,  "what. ..thus  raps  you?"  i.e.  what  trans- 
ports you  thus  ?  The  form  rapt  comes  through  confusion  with 
Lat.  rapius,  the  p.  p.  of  Lat.  rapere,  'to  seize.' 

rathe.  Lye  142  'early.'  A.S.  hrce'S,  'quick,  soon';  cf. 
r<2:/A^= ' sooner,' ;'a^/z^j-/=' soonest'  (e.g.  in  Bacon's  Colours  of 
Good  and  Evil).  For  rathe,  '  early,'  cf.  The  Shepheards  Calender, 
December,  "  Thus  is  my  harvest  hastened  all  to  rathe,"  i.e.  too 
early). 

rhyme,  Lye.  11  ;  so  spelt  through  confusion  with  rhythm, 
Gk.  pvdixos;  properly  rime,  from  A.S.   rifn,   'a  number.' 

ruth,  Lye.  163,  'pity.'  Cf.  Troilus  and  Cressida,  v.  3.  48, 
"  Spur  them  to  ruthful  work,  rein  them  from  ruth,"  where 
r^^//^/^^/= '  piteous  ' ;  contrast  ruthless.  Akin  to  A.S.  hreowan, 
'to  rue,^  Germ,  reue,  'repentance.' 

sad.  Com.  189,  355,  'grave,  serious,'  without  any  notion  of 
sorrow.  Cf.  Henry  V.  IV.  i.  318,  "the  sad  and  solemn  priests." 
Originally  'sated,'  A.S.  scedh&mg  akin  to  Lat.  satis,  'enough.* 

scrannel,  Lye.  124.  Skeat  says:  '■'■  Scramiel,  thin,  weakly, 
wretched  (Scandinavian).  Provincial  English  scranny,  thin,  lean  ; 
scrannel,  a  lean  person  (Lincolnshire)."  He  gives  a  Swedish  word 
skran,  'weak,'  and  says  that  shrink,  A.S.  scrincan,  is  cognate  ;  cf. 
its  preterite  shrank,  A.S.  scranc. 

shrewd.  Com.  846,  'malicious,  mischievous';  from  its  common 
Elizabethan  sense  'bad,'  literally  'cursed'  {shrewd \i€\xi^  the  p.p. 
oischrewen,  'to  curse  ').  Cf.  "a  shrewd  turn  "  = '  a  bad  turn,'  AWs 
Well  That  Ends  Well,  III.  5.  71.  From  shreiv^K.^.  scrediva, 
"a  shrew-mouse,  fabled  to  have  a  very  venomous  bite  "  (Skeat). 

shroud;  properly  'a  garment'  (A.S.  scrtld) — cf.  Lye.  22; 
hence  any  'shelter,  covering,'  Com.  147,  Outside  Old  St  Paul's 
Cathedral  in  London  there  was  a  covered  place  called  "the 
Shrouds,"  where  sermons  were  preached  in  wet  weather,  instead 
of  at  St  Paul's  Cross,  which  was  in  the  open. 


1/2  COMUS   AND    LYCIDAS. 

sooth,  Com.  823,  'true.'  A.S.  sd^,  'true';  cf.  soothsayer, 
forsooth. 

sound,  Com.  115,  'a  strait,  strip  of  water';  A.S.  sund,  literally 
'  a  strait  of  the  sea  that  could  be  swum  across.' 

sovran,  Com.  41  ;  spelt  thus  always  in  Par.  Lost;  cf.  Ital. 
sovrano.  The  common  form  sovereign  =  O.Y.  soverain.  Lat. 
superanus,   'chief,'  from  super,    'above.' 

stole,  Com.  195.  Elizabethans  often  use  the  form  of  the  past 
tense  as  a  past  participle — cf.  took  {Com.  558);  and  conversely 
with  certain  verbs,  e.g.  begin,  sing,  spring,  the  form  of  the  past 
participle  as  a  past  tense.  Thus  Shakespeare  and  Milton  nearly 
always  use  jz^;z^  instead  of  sang;  cf.  Far.  Lost,  iii.  18,  "I  sung 
of  Chaos  and  eternal  Night." 

swart,  Lye.  138;  more  often  swarthy,  but  cf.  Keats,  En- 
dymion,  "Swart  planet  in  the  universe  of  deeds."  A.S.  swearf, 
'very  dark  ' ;  cf.  Germ,  schwartz. 

swink;  A.S.  sivincan,  'to  work  hard,  labour.'  Hence  the 
sense  '  wearied  with  work '  in  Com.  293.  A  common  verb  in  old 
writers ;  cf.   The  Faerie  Qneene,  ii.  7.   8  : 

"  Honour,  estate,  and  all  this  worldes  good, 
For  which  men  swinck  and  sweat  incessantly." 
Shelley  has  it  in  his  humorous  Letter  to  Maria  Gisborne : 
"  that  dew  which  the  gnomes  drink, 
"When  at  their  subterranean  toil  they  swink." 

take ;  used  by  Elizabethans  of  the  influence  of  supernatural 
powers,  e.g.  fairies  {Hamlet,  I.  i.  163);  cf.  Cotgrave  (1611),  ''fee, 
taken,  bewitched."  Hence  *to  chaiin,  fascinate' — as  in  Com. 
558;  cf.   Tennyson's  Dying  Swan,  ill.: 

"  The  wild  swan's  death-hymn  took  the  soul 
Of  that  waste  place." 
Cf.  the  colloquial  use  now  of  '  taking '  =  ' charming.' 

toy,  Com.  502,  'a  trifle.'  Cf.  Macbeth,  11.  3.  99,  "All  is 
but  toys."  Cognate  with  Germ,  zeug,  'stuff,  trash,'  as  in 
spiehcKg,   '  playthings.' 

trains,  Com.  151,  'snares.'  Cf.  Samson  Agonistes,  533, 
"venereal  snares "=snares  of  love  (Venus).  F.  trainer,  from 
Lat.  trahere,  'to  draw,'  in  Late  Lat.  'to  betray' — from  the 
metaphor  of  drawing  birds  into  snares. 

trick,  I^yc.  170,  'to  dress  anew.'  From  Dutch  trek,  'a  trick, 
a  neat  contrivance':  whence  the  idea  'neat  appearance.' 


GLOSSARY.  173 

turkis,  Com.  894,  'the  turquoise,'  literally  'Turkish  stone.' 
Cf.  Tennyson,  The  Merman,  ill.,  "Turkis  and  agate  and 
almondine." 

uncouth,  Lye.  186;  A.S.  tmcM,  'unknown' — from  ««, 
'not,'+a/'S,  the  p.p.  of  amnan,  'to  know.'  In  M.  it  almost 
always  means  'unfamiliar,'  with  the  implied  notion  'un- 
pleasant.' 

unharboured,  Com.  423,  ^y'ltldrngno harbourage^  i.e.  shelter.' 
A  harbinger  was  originally  an  officer  who  went  in  advance  of 
an  army  or  prince  to  make  provision  for  the  night's  shelter. 
From  Icelandic  herbergi,  'an  army  shelter';  cf.  the  cognate 
Germ,  words  heer+bergen.  F.  atiberge,  'an  inn,'  is  also  from 
this  Icelandic  word. 

usher.  Com.  279.  The  noun  (F.  hnissier,  Lat.  ostiarhis) 
meant  properly  'a  doorkeeper,'  later  'someone  who  went  in 
front  of  any  great  person  in  a  procession ' :  hence  the  idea  '  to 
precede,  introduce.' 

virtue.  Com.  165,  'efficacy,  power';  a  frequent  Elizabethan 
use.  Cf.  Luke  viii.  46,  "Virtue  is  gone  out  of  me."  So 
virtuous  =* full  of  efficacy'  {Cotn.  621).  Lat.  virtus,  'worth, 
manly  excellence'  (Lat.  vir,  man). 

wanton.  Lye.  137.  The  radical  sense  is  'ill-restrained'; 
wan  being  a  negative  prefix  expressing  want,  deficiency,  and 
the  latter  part  of  the  word  being  connected  with  A.S.  teon,  'to 
draw.'  For  the  prefix  cf.  the  old  words  wanhope,  'despair,' 
wantrusf,  'distrust.' 

wassailer.  Com.  179,  'a  reveller.'  Wassail  is  the  old 
northern  English  wres  hdl,  '  be  whole '  =  the  imperative  of  wesan, 
'to  be '  -t- hdl,  the  same  as  whole  and  hale.  Originally  a  salutation 
in  drinking,  like  the  Gexvcv.  prosit  J  ('may  it  benefit  you'),  used  in 
drinking  a  man's  health,  wassail  came  to  mean  'a  drinking, 
carousing,  revel.'  Lady  Macbeth  promises  to  overcome  the 
chamberlains  "with  wine  and  wassail"  (i.  7.  64).  The  '■wassail- 
bowl '  was  a  great  feature  of  the  old  Christmas  feasting. 

weed,  Com.  16,  84,  390,  'garments,  dress';  A.S.  ivdd,  'a 
garment.'  Commonly  in  the  plural;  cf.  Coriolamts,  11.  3.  i6r, 
"With  a  proud  heart  he  wore  his  humble  weeds."  Now  only 
in  the  phrase  'widow's  weeds,'  except  in  poetry;  cf.  Tennyson, 
"In  words  like  weeds  I'll  wrap  me  o'er"  [In  Memoriam,  v.). 

welkin,  Com.  1015,  'sky';  properly  a  plural  word  =  ' clouds,' 


174  COMUS   AND   LYCIDAS. 

from  A.S.  wolcnu,  the  plural  of  woken,    'a  cloud';   cf.   Germ. 
wolke,  'a  cloud.' 

wizard,  Lye.  55.  The  first  part  is  from  the  root  seen  in 
wise,  ivit,  Germ,  wissen.  The  suffix  -ard,  of  Teutonic  origin— 
cf.  names  like  Eberhard — here  has  its  original  intensive  force  = 
'hard,  strong  in,  i.e.  very.'  Usually  depreciative,  as  in  coward, 
di-unkard,  braggart  {d  softened  to  /). 


175 


APPENDIX. 


THE   ENGLISH   MASQUER 

In  the  last   years  of  the  sixteenth  century  England  owed 
much  to  Italian  culture.     For  the  age  of  Spenser  Italy  was  what 
France  a  hundred  years  afterwards  became  for  the  age  of  Dryden, 
the  great  authority  and  model  in  everything  pertaining  to  lite- 
rature and  art.     It  was  from  Italy  that  the  Masque  came.     Hall 
tells  us  in  the  passage  from  his  Chronicle  quoted  later  on  that  the 
entertainment  which  struck  people  as  so  novel  in  15 12  was  intro- 
duced "after  the  manner  of  Italic."     Marlowe  puts  these  lines 
into  the  mouth  of  Piers  Gaveston,  the  favourite  of  Edward  II.  : 
"  I  must  have  wanton  poets,  pleasant  wits, 
Musicians,  that  with  touching  of  a  string 
May  draw  the  pliant  king  which  way  I  please : 
Music  and  poetry  is  his  delight ; 
Therefore  I'll  have  Italian  masks  by  night, 
Sweet  speeches,  comedies,  and  pleasing  shows." — 

Edward  II.  I.  i. 
In  his  Chronicle  History  of  the  Stage,  pp.  22,  26,  Mr  Fleay 
notes  that  Italians  "made  pastime"  for  the  Queen  in  1574;  that 
the  Records  of  the  Revels  mention  an  Italian  interpreter;  and 
that  the  speeches  of  a  Masque  played  before  Elizabeth  in  1579 
were  translated  from  English  into  Italian,  at  the  Lord  Chamber- 
lain's direction. 


1  This  sketch  is  mainly  abridged  from  the  longer  account  of  the  Masque 
prefixed  to  the  edition  of  Comus  in  the  "  Pitt  Press '"  edition,  where  the  various 
sources  from  which  information  is  taken  are  mentioned.  Anyone  who  desires 
to  consult  a  fuller  (and  most  interesting)  account  of  the  Masque  should  turn 
to  Symonds'  book,  ShciksJ>ere's  Predecessors. 


176  COMUS   AND   LYCIDAS. 

There  can  be  no  question  therefore  as  to  the  Italian  origin 
of  the  Masque. 

The  earliest  description  of  an  English  Masque  occurs  in 
Hall's  Chronicle  under  the  date  151 2.     He  says: 

"  On  the  dale  of  the  Epiphanie  at  night  the  King  with  xi 
other  were  disguised  after  the  manner  of  Italic,  called  a  maske, 
a  thing  not  sene  afore  in  England  :  thei  were  appareled  in 
garments  long  and  brode,  wrought  all  with  golde,  with  visers 
and  cappes  of  gold  ;  and  after  the  banket  doen  these  Maskers 
came  in  with  the  sixe  gentlemen  disguised  in  silke,  beryng  staffe- 
torches,  and  desired  the  ladies  to  daunce:  some  were  content, 
and  some  that  knew  the  fashion  of  it  refused,  because  it  was  not 
a  thing  commonly  seen.  And  after  thei  daunced  and  communed 
together,  as  the  fashion  of  the  maskes  is,  thei  toke  their  leave 
and  departed  ;  and  so  did  the  Queene  and  all  the  ladies." 

The  entertainment  thus  described  was  what  we  should  call 
a  '  masquerade '  :  an  entertainment,  that  is,  in  which  '  masks ' 
or  vizards  were  worn  and  dances  were  the  chief  element.  Often 
the  dances  were  supposed  to  illustrate  some  story,  as  it  were  in 
'dumb  show,'  and  gradually  allegorical  characters,  e.g.  Love, 
were  brought  in  to  explain  the  story  to  the  audience,  and  songs 
were  introduced.  Hence  from  being  merely  a  series  of  dances 
performed  by  masked  characters,  the  Masque  came  to  be  a  kind 
of  play  which  was  accompanied  by  a  good  deal  of  music  and 
therefore  resembled  an  opera.  Scenery  was  then  required,  and 
wealthy  patrons  of  the  Masque  vied  with  each  other  in  the 
splendour  of  their  representations.  Here  the  Masque  was  in- 
fluenced by  the  Pageant.  The  latter  was  of  even  older  origin. 
Mention  is  made  as  early  as  1236  of  the  City-pageants  cele- 
brated in  London  by  members  of  the  trade  guilds.  Of  these 
spectacular  processions,  representing  symbolically  the  various 
trades,  which  passed  through  the  London  streets  at  great 
festivities,  the  Lord  Mayor's  Show  is  a  survival.  Sometimes, 
e.g.  in  Shirley's  great  Masque  The  Triumph  of  Peace,  a  pro- 
cession formed  the  introduction  to  a  Masque  ;  and  the  general 
influence  of  the  Pageant  was  to  foster  a  taste  for  spectacular 
display.  This  taste  was  not  gratified  in  the  public  theatres 
simply  because  the  theatrical  managers  could  not  afford  the 
expense.  But  it  was  gratified  in  the  Masque-performances 
given  by  the  Court,  great  nobles,  and  the  four  legal  societies 


APPENDIX.  177 

(Inner  Temple,  Middle  Temple,  Gray's  Inn  and  Lincoln's  Inn), 
whose  Christmas-tide  festivities  or  '  Revels  ^ '  were  of  a  costly 
description. 

Gradually  therefore  the  Masque  developed  from  its  simple 
origin  as  a  masquerade  into  a  complex  form  of  entertainment 
scarcely  distinguishable  from  an  opera. 

The  Masque  reached  its  zenith  in  the  reign  of  James  I.  Ben 
Jonson  was  the  great  master  of  the  art,  and  his  Masques  may 
be  taken  as  specimens  of  the  finest  type.  They  present  these 
features : 

The  characters  are  deities  of  classical  mythology,  nymphs 
and  personified  qualities  such  as  *Love,'  '  Harmony,'  'Delight,' 
'  Laughter '  (for  throughout  its  history  the  Masque  preserved 
a  marked  strain  of  allegory).  The  number  of  characters  seldom 
exceeds  six,  and  there  are  generally  two  bands  to  whom  the  title 
•  Masquers '  is  specially  assigned  and  who  serve  as  choruses,  now 
separately  and  in  contrast,  now  in  union.  Thus  in  the  Masque 
of  Hymen  there  are  eight  maidens  personifying  the  powers 
exercised  by  Juno  in  her  capacity  of  patroness  of  women  in 
wedlock,  and  eight  knights  personifying  the  '  Humours '  and 
'  Affections '  of  man.  In  the  Masque  of  Queens  there  are  twelve 
witches  embodying  evil  qualities,  such  as  '  Ignorance,'  'Suspicion,' 
and  against  them  are  set  twelve  queens  representing  the  highest 
fame.  The  scenes  are  laid  in  ideal  regions — Olympus,  Arcadia, 
the  Fortunate  Isles,  the  Palace  of  Oceanus,  and  similar  realms  of 
fancy.  The  length  of  the  pieces,  of  course,  varies,  but  the  average 
Masque  is  about  equal  to  the  first  Act  of  The  Tempest.  They  are 
written  in  various  metres  of  rhymed  verse,  which  is  sometimes 
spoken,  sometimes  declaimed  in  recitative,  and  contain  solos  for 
the  chief  characters  and  part-songs  and  choruses. 

Dances,  executed  by  the  '  Masquers,'  are  a  very  important 
element :  stately  'measures,'  'corantos,'  'galliards,'  and  the  like, 
of  Italian  or  French  origin,  and  all  new  to  England.  Most 
elaborate  scenery  is  employed,  giving  the  representations  a 
highly  spectacular  character,  and  the  dresses  of  the  performers 
are  of  the  costliest  description  and  symbolical.  It  is  interesting, 
in  passing,  to  remember  the  contrast  between  the  bare  simplicity 


1  Twelfth  Night  was  acted  at  the  Candlemas  feast  (Jan.  6)  of  the  Middle 
Temple  in  1602. 

V.  C.        •  12 


1/8  COMUS   AND   LYCIDAS. 

which  characterised  the  representation  of  Shakespeare's  pieces  at 
the  Globe  Theatre^  and  the  rich  display  of  the  Masque. 

Generally  there  is  a  comic  part  called  the  Anti- masque.  This 
serves  as  a  contrast  to  the  idealism  of  the  Masque  itself.  It  is  a 
foil,  an  opposite :  hence  its  name.  Sometimes  the  Anti-masque 
consists  of  a  scene  or  two  of  humorous  dialogue  and  action,  which 
have  a  satirical  relation  to  the  main  subject  and  almost  parody 
it ;  the  characters  being  drawn  from  contemporary  Elizabethan 
life.  Sometimes  the  Anti-masque  is  merely  a  grotesque  interlude. 
One  moment  personifications  of  Delight,  and  Harmony,  and 
Love  move  across  the  scene,  chanting  some  rhythmic  choral 
strain  to  a  slow  recitative:  the  next  all  is  confusion:  the  Anti- 
masquers  rush  forward,  grotesque  in  dress  and  movement, 
execute  fantastic  dances  and  movements,  and  retire. 

Milton  does  not  attempt  to  work  out  an  Anti-masque  in 
Comus  ;  very  wisely,  as  he  had  little  humour  in  his  nature.  But 
it  may  he  conjectured  that  had  Ben  Jonson  been  the  author  of 
Covins  at  least  two  episodes  in  the  poem  would  have  been  treated 
as  burlesque  interludes.  These  would  have  occurred  at  line  93, 
where  Comus  first  appears,  and  at  line  957  :  the  Anti-masquers 
being  in  the  one  case  the  "rout  of  monsters,"  and  in  the  other 
the  "Country  Dancers,"  with  their  clumsy  "ducks  and  nods." 

We  have  nothing  in  our  own  day  that  corresponds  precisely 
with  the  Masque  of  the  reign  of  James  I,  It  was  like  an  opera, 
because  so  much  music  was  introduced  ;  like  a  ballet,  because 
there  was  so  much  dancing  ;  like  a  pageant,  because  the  scenery, 
setting  and  costumes  were  devised  on  so  splendid  a  scale.  It 
was  certainly  the  forerunner  of  the  opera,  and  composers  like 
Lawes  and  Lock,  to  whom  we  owe  our  earliest  operas,  had  in 
their  youth  written  the  incidental  music  of  the  latest  Masques. 

The  Masque  was  a  private  form  of  entertainment,  much 
patronised  by  the  Court  of  James  I.  The  Laureate  l^en  Jonson 
would  write  the  libretto;  the  Court-composer  Alfonso  Ferra- 
bosco  often  furnished  the  music,  which  would  be  rendered  by 
the  Court-orchestra  and  the  choirs  of  the  Chapels  Royal ;  and  the 
Court-architect,  Inigo  Jones,  designed  tiie  scenery.  Great  nobles 
too,  as  we  have  said,  and  the  legal  societies  gave  Masque- 
performances.     The  Masque  was  peculiarly  suited  to  be  a  form 

*  Cf.  the  fust  rrolugiic  to  lliiity  V. 


APPENDIX.  179 

of  private  theatricals  because  little  skill  in  acting  was  required. 
The  Queen  and  her  maids  of  honour  and  courtiers  could  render 
the  songs  and  execute  the  dances  and  rhythmic  movements  with 
all  due  effect,  and  satisfy  the  slender  demands  on  their  skill  as 
players ;  though  professional  actors  were  sometimes  employed 
for  the  Anti-masque,  and  professional  musicians  (usually  the 
singers  at  the  Chapels  Royal)  when  the  solo  parts  presented 
great  difficulty. 

Great  ceremonies  and  occasions  were  signalised  by  Masque- 
performances,  such  as  the  Twelfth  Night  festivities  at  Whitehall, 
royal  visits  to  noblemen's  houses  and  weddings.  Of  course,  the 
subject  and  allegory  of  a  Masque  were  suited  to  the  occasion 
for  which  it  was  composed.  Thus  in  a  Wedding-Masque  the 
characters  are  Juno,  Venus,  Hymen,  the  Graces,  etc.,  powers 
whose  blessing  is  invoked  on  the  wedded  pair.  And  there  is 
often,  as  in  Comiis,  an  element  of  personal  compliment  and  local 
allusion. 

The  Masque  declined  somewhat  on  the  death  of  James  in 
1625.  Charles  I.  indeed  was  equally  devoted  to  amusements. 
He  was  a  good  actor.  As  a  boy  he  had  played  in  several  of 
Jonson's  pieces,  and  Love's  Triumph  through  Callipolis  (1630) 
was  perfoimed  "  by  his  Majesty,  with  the  Lords  and  Gentlemen 
Assisting. "  But  the  novelty  was  gone.  An  art  or  taste  which 
depends  on  the  whims  of  wealth  and  fashion  has  no  element  of 
permanence :  what  is  in  vogue  to-day  is  voted  ol>solete  to-morrow. 
Moreover  the  Masque  had  become  too  costly.  We  are  told  that 
Daniel's  Masque  Hyme/t's  Triumph  cost  about  ^3000 ;  Jonson's 
Masque  of  Blackness  also  about  ;[^3000,  and  his  Htie  and  Cry  of 
Cupid  nearly  ^^4000 ;  while  the  expense  of  producing  Shirley's 
Triumph  of  Peace  reached  the  fabulous  amount  of  ^21,000 
(which  we  must  multiply  by  4  to  get  its  modern  equivalent). 

Entertainments  which  swallowed  up  a  sum  equivalent  to  the 
revenue  of  a  small  country  could  not  be  matters  of  frequent 
occurrence,  especially  when  the  royal  purse  was  none  too  full. 
Moreover,  as  literature,  the  Masque  had  suffered  inevitably  by 
the  mania  for  elaborate  scenery,  dresses  and  the  like  features  of 
representation.  Ben  Jonson  indeed  insisted  that  the  words  were  . 
the  real  life  and  anima  of  the  Masque:  that  the  poetry  should 
have  the  place  of  honour,  and  the  other  arts — music,  sculpture, 
painting — serve  as  her  handmaids.    But  this  was  not  the  popular 

12 2 


l8o  COMUS   AND    LYCIDAS. 

view.  Even  his  contemporary  and  fellow  writer  of  Masques, 
Daniel  in  the  preface  to  the  Masque  of  Tethys  declared  that 
the  poet's  share  in  a  Masque  was  "the  least... and  of  least  note  : 
the  only  life  consists  in  show,  the  art  and  invention  of  the  archi- 
tect gives  the  greatest  graces,  and  is  of  the  most  importance." 

The  Masque  in  fact  has  come  to  be  regarded  as  merely  a  peg 
whereon  to  hang  costly  extravagance.  "  Painting  and  carpentry 
are  the  soul  of  Masque "  was  Ben  Jonson's  final  and  bitterly 
ironical  summing  up  of  the  whole  matter.  Just  so  nowadays 
a  piece  may  attract  by  the  splendour  of  its  stage-spectacle  rather 
than  by  any  merit  in  the  drama  itself. 

Curiously  enough,  when  the  period  of  its  decadence  was  far 
advanced  the  Masque  had  a  sudden  and  passing  revival  of  life. 
This  happened  just  before  the  composition  of  Comus.  "  In  1633 
the  Puritan  hatred  to  the  theatre  had  blazed  out  in  Prynne's 
Histriomastix,  and  as  a  natural  consequence,  the  loyal  and  cavalier 
portion  of  society  threw  itself  into  dramatic  amusements  of  every 
kind.  It  was  an  unreal  revival  of  the  Mask,  stimulated  by 
political  passion,  in  the  wane  of  genuine  taste  for  the  fantastic 
and  semi-barbarous  pageant,  in  which  the  former  age  had 
delighted" — (Mark  Pattison).  This  revival  was  marked  by  the 
production  of  the  famous  Masque  already  mentioned,  Shirley's 
Triumph  of  Peace,  and  of  Carew's  Ccehim  Britaunicinn.  The 
former  was  acted  on  Feb.  3,  1634,  by  the  four  legal  societies,  who 
desired,  says  a  writer  of  that  period,  to  express  thereby  "  their 
love  and  duty  to  their  majesties... and  to  manifest  the  difference  of 
their  opinion  from  Mr  Prynne's  new  learning."  Carew's  Masque 
was  given  by  the  Court  a  fortnight  later.  Probably  Milton  was 
then  busy  with  the  composition  of  Comus,  acted  some  months 
after.  Each  of  these  Masques  has  some  association  with  Comus, 
as  Lawes  wrote  the  music  for  each,  while  two  of  the  performers  in 
the  Ccelum  Brilaunii  urn  \\Qxe.W?,co\\ni  Brackley  and  Mr  Thomas 
Egerton,  the  "Brothers"  of  Milton's  Masque.  The  occasional 
representations  of  Masques  after  the  Restoration,  and  even  in 
this  century,  have  merely  an  antiquarian  interest.  As  a  form  of 
dramatic  art  the  Masque  lost  its  identity  in  the  opera. 

Ben  Jonson's  primacy  in  masque- writing  stands  unchallenged, 
bul  the  art  counted  other  distinguished  exponents — e.g.  Beaumont 
and  Fletcher ;  Dekkcr  and  Middleton,  who  wrote  city-pageants  ; 
Daniel,  Chapman  and  Marston,  patronised  mainly  by  the  Court 


APPENDIX.  l8l 

and  nobles  ;  and  Shirley  and  Carew,  the  representatives  of  its 
waning  glories. 

Nor  was  Shakespeare  uninfluenced  by  the  Masque.  A  Mid- 
sum  nier- Night's  Dream  is  rather  a  Masque-comedy  than  comedy 
proper.  The  classical  characters  and  locality,  the  super- 
natural beings,  the  picturesque  scenery  required,  the  fanciful 
story,  the  rhymed  and  various  types  of  verse,  the  large  element 
of  music  and  dance,  the  comic  "interlude"  of  Bottom  and  his 
friends,  who  not  only  serve  as  contrasts  to  the  classical  characters 
of  Theseus  and  his  courtiers  and  to  the  fairies,  but  also  parody 
in  their  "  tragical  mirth  "  the  love-element  of  the  serious  scenes  : 
all  these  are  features  in  which  Shakespeare's  play  reveals 
its  kinship  with  the  Masque.  The  pageant  of  Hymen  in  As 
Vou  Like  It,  V.  4,  is  an  episode  which  might  have  been 
detached  from  an  ordinary  Masque;  and  so  is  the  Vision 
in  Cymbeline,  v.  4.  The  Masquerade  in  Henry  VI  11.  i, 
4,  reminds  us  of  the  simple  type  of  Masque  described  by 
Hall.  The  Masque  in  the  fourth  Act  of  The  Tempest,  though 
brief,  contains  the  characteristic  features.  The  theme  is  an 
allegory  of  marriage-bliss.  The  characters  are  taken  from  my- 
thology. The  Nymphs  and  Reapers  represent  the  bands  of 
'  Masquers.'  Their  dresses^  are  emblematical.  There  are  songs, 
a  "graceful  dance,"  music.  The  verse  is  rhymed  and  varied. 
And  the  interlude  akin  to  a  Masque  in  the  third  Act,  scene  3, 
illustrates  the  use  of  scenery  and  stage-machinery. 


II. 

PASTORAL   POETRY. 

We  must  go  back  to  the  Greek  poet  Theocritus-  for  the 
beginnings  of  pastoral  poetry  such  as  Lycidas.  Theocritus  was 
born  at  Syracuse  (a  Greek  colony)  in  Sicily,  early  in  the  third 
century  B.C.  It  should  be  remembered  that  the  Greek  colonies 
in  Sicily  were  as  much  '  Greek '  then  in  civilization  and  culture 

1  Thus  the  "Nymphs"  of  the  brooks  are  bidden  to  come  with  their 
"  sedged  crowns,"  iv.  129,  sedge  being  symbolical  of  water-deities  (cf  Lye. 
104),  and  the  "  Reapers"  are  "  properly  habited"  (Stage-direction). 

2  "The  first  head  and  welspring"  of  pastoral  verse,  as  Spenser's  frienl 
said;  see  "Globe"'  Spenser,  p.  444. 


1 82  COMUS   AND   LYCIDAS. 

as  the  capitals  of  Greater  Eritain — Toronto,  say,  and  Sydney — 
are  'British'  now.  The  works  therefore  of  Theocritus  represent 
Greek  literature  exactly  as  if  he  had  been  born  in  Greece  itself. 
Theocritus  spent  part  of  his  life  at  Alexandria,  the  great  centre 
of  culture  and  refinement  at  that  time.  His  extant  works, 
written  in  the  Doric ^  dialect  of  Greek,  consist  of  some  thirty 
Idyls  and  a  few  Epigrams.  His  fame  rests  on  his  Idyls.  They 
are  called  Idyls'^,  'little  pictures,'  from  their  highly- wrought, 
picturesque  manner.  About  a  third  of  them  are  pastoral  or 
rural.  They  depict  different  aspects  of  rural  life,  more  par- 
ticularly shepherd -life,  in  Sicily  and  Southern  Italy,  and  are 
partly  cast  in  the  form  of  a  dialogue  followed  by  a  singing-match 
between  two  shepherds.  The  character  of  the  Idyls  will  be  best 
understood  by  those  who  are  unacquainted  with  them  if  we  give 
summaries  of  two  or  three  from  Mr  Andrew  Lang's  translation. 

Idyl  N.  "This    Idyl    begins   with   a   debate    between   two 

hirelings,  who,  at  last,   compete  with  each  other  in  a 
match  of  pastoral  song.     No  other  idyl  of  Theocritus  is 
so  frankly  true  to  the  rough  side  of  rustic  manners. 
The  scene  is  in  Southern  Italy." 

IX.  "Daphnis  and  Menalcas,  at  the  bidding  of  the  poet, 
sing  the  joys  of  the  neatherd's  and  of  the  shepherd's 
life.  Both  receive  the  thanks  of  the  poet,  and  rustic 
prizes — a  staff,  and  a  horn,  made  of  a  spiral  shell." 

X.  "  The  sturdy  reaper,  Milon,  as  he  levels  the  swathes 
of  corn,  derides  his  languid  and  love-worn  companion, 
Battus.  The  latter  defends  his  gipsy  love.... Milon 
replies  with  the  song  of  Lityerses — a  string,  apparently, 
of  popular  rural  couplets,  such  as  Theocritus  may  have 
heard  chanted  in  the  fields." 

What  distinguishes  the  Idyls  of  Theocritus  from  all  later 
pastoral  poetry  is  their  reality,  their  fidelity  to  fact.  The  rural 
life  of  his  poems  is  a  genuine  thing,  idealised  somewhat  and 
represented  with  consummate  art,  but  still  genuine  at  bottom  ; 
not  the  fiction  and  mere  literary  convention  which  other  bucolic 
verse  gives  us.     Professor  Jebb  says  :  "  His  [Theocritus's]  rural 

'  Syracuse  was  a  Dorian  colony. 
-  (Jf.  Tennyson's  use  of  the  title. 


APPENDIX.  183 

idyls  are  no  sham  pastorals,  but  true  to  the  sights  and  sounds  of 
his  native  Sicily.  The  Sicilian  sunshine  is  there,  the  shade  of 
oak-trees  or  pine,  the  *  couch,  softer  than  sleep,'  made  by  ferns 
or  flowers ;  the  '  music  of  water  falling  from  the  high  face  of  the 
rock,'  the  arbutus  shrubs,  with  their  bright  red  berries,  above 
the  sea-cliffs,  whence  the  shepherds  watch  the  tunny-fishers  on 
the  sea  below,  while  the  sailors'  song  floats  up  to  them ;  and  if 
the  form  given  to  the  strains  of  shepherd  and  goatherd  is  such  as 
finished  poetry  demands,  this  is  a  very  different  thing  from  the 
affectation  of  the  mock  pastoral,  as  it  existed,  for  instance,  at 
the  court  of  Louis  XIV.  The  modern  love-songs  of  Greek 
shepherds  warrant  the  supposition  that  their  ancient  prototypes 
commanded  some  elegance  of  expression  ;  and  whatever  may  be 
the  degree  in  which  Theocritus  has  idealised  his  Sicilian  peasants, 
at  any  rate  we  hear  the  voice  and  breathe  the  air  of  nature." 

The  first  of  these  Idyls  has  a  peculiar  interest  for  the  student 
of  Lycidas.     It  is  not  merely  a  pastoral,  but  a  pastoral  elegy. 

Mr  Lang  summarises  it  thus  : 

"  The  shepherd  Thyrsis  meets  a  goatherd,  in  a  shady  place 
beside  a  spring,  and  at  his  invitation  sings  the  Song  of  DapJuiis. 
This  ideal  hero  [viz,  Daphnis]  of  Greek  pastoral  song  had  won 
for  his  bride  the  fairest  of  the  Nymphs.  Confident  in  the  strength 
of  his  passion,  he  boasted  that  Love  could  never  subdue  him  to  a 
new  affection.  Love  avenged  himself  by  making  Daphnis  desire 
a  strange  maiden,  but  to  this  temptation  he  never  yielded,  and 
so  died  a  constant  lover.  The  song  tells  how  the  cattle  and  the 
wild  things  of  the  wood  bewailed  him,  how  Hermes  gave  him 
counsel  in  vain,  and  how  with  his  last  breath  he  retorted  the 
taunts  of  the  implacable  Aphrodite. 

The  scene  is  in  Sicily." 

This  Song  is  the  model  on  which  Lycidas  and  all  other 
pastoral  elegies  are  framed,  consciously  or  unconsciously. 

Two  other  poets  associated  with  Sicily  lived  about  the  same 
time  as  Theocritus  and  wrote,  in  Doric,  Idyls  of  which  a  few  are 
extant,  viz.  Bion  and  Moschus.  Each  wrote  a  poem  of  lament 
that  may  be  compared  with  Theocritus's  Song  of  Daphnis '.  Bion 
Xhe  Lament  for  Adonis,  and  Moschus  the  Lament  for  Bion.  The 
latter  is  a  very  close  parallel  to  Lycidas.  Moschus  was  the 
pupil  of  Bion,  and  in  his  lament  he  mourns  for  his  friend  and 
master  under  the  same  pastoral  allegory  which  Milton  uses  in 


1 84  COMUS   AND   LYCIDAS. 

Lya'das,  i.e.  as  one  shepherd  mourning  for  another.  Now  this 
introduction  of  allegory  into  the  pastoral  marks  the  second  stage 
in  its  history — the  decline  from  its  original  reality  and  truth.  For 
Theocritus's  Song  of  Daphnis  is,  in  kind  if  not  exactly  in  form, 
a  lament  such  as  one  shepherd  might  really  have  uttered  over 
another ;  whereas  in  the  Lament  for  Bion  pastoralism  is  merely 
the  imaginative  garb  in  which  one  poet  clothes  his  grief  at  the 
loss  of  another.  Henceforth  the  drift  of  pastoral  verse,  whether 
descriptive  or  elegiac,  is  towards  artificiality.  This  characteristic 
is  very  pronounced  in  Vergil.  His  pastoral  poems,  the  Eclogues'^, 
are  close,  almost  servile,  imitations  of  Theocritus.  His  aim  is 
not  to  paint  in  his  own  way  the  rural  life  of  his  own  Mantuan 
land,  but  to  repaint  the  pictures  of  Theocritus,  with  all  their 
characteristic  Sicilian  features,  whether  appropriate  to  Italian 
scenes  or  not.  Thus  pastoralism  ceases  to  be  a  faithful  represen- 
tation of  shepherd-life,  and  becomes  rather  a  literary  exercise, 
and  the  Eclogues  are  admirable  primarily  for  the  same  qualities 
as  Lycidas — that  is,  qualities  of  art,  not  reality. 

At  the  Renaissance  the  renewed  interest  in  the  classics 
brought  the  pastoral  into  vogue,  especially  in  Italy.  The  re- 
vival of  learning,  says  Professor  Hales,  "put  fresh  models  before 
men,  greatly  modified  old  literary  forms,  originated  new.  The 
classical  influence  impressed  upon  Europe  was  by  no  means  an 
unmixed  good ;  in  some  respects  it  retarded  the  natural  de- 
velopment of  the  modern  mind  by  overpowering  it  with  its 
prestige  and  stupefying  it  with  a  sense  of  inferiority;  while  it 
raised  the  ideal  of  perfection,  it  tended  to  give  rise  to  mere 
imitations  and  affectations.  Amongst  these  new  forms  was  the 
Pastoral.  When  Virgil,  Theocritus,  'Daphnis  and  Chloe,'  and 
other  writers^  and  works  of  the  ancient  pastoral  literature  once 

1  Latin  Eclogce,  select  poems;  from  Gk.  exAoy^,  a  selection,  especially  a 
selection  of  poems.  Note  that  the  term  for  pastoral  verse  which  prevailed 
among  the  earlier  English  poets  was  Eclogue,  not  Idyl — mainlj-,  I  suppose, 
because  Vergil  was  a  stronger  influence  than  Theocritus.  Every  educated 
man  knew  Latin,  but  Greek  (and  that  the  Doric  dialect)  would  be  a  mystery 
to  most.  Moreover,  the  common  old  spelling  y^glogue  shows  that  the  word 
was  supposed  to  be  connected  with  Greek  aif,  a  goat,  and  therefore  very 
appropriate  to  a  class  of  poem  in  which  goatherds  often  appear.  Cf.  "The 
General  Argument"  to  The  Shephenrds  Calender,  lines  9  et  seq.  in  the 
"Globe"  edition;  and  see  Conington's  Vergil,  i.  pp.  17,  18. 

^  Latin  pastoral  writers  later  than  Vergil  are  of  little  importance. 


APPENDIX.  185 

more  gained  the  ascendency,  then  a  modern  pastoral  poetry 
began  to  be.  This  poetry  flourished  greatly  in  Italy  in  the 
sixteenth  century.  It  had  been  cultivated  by  Sannazaro, 
Guarini,  Tasso^.  Arcadia  had  been  adopted  by  the  poets  for 
their  country.  In  England  numerous  Eclogues'^  made  their 
appearance.  Amongst  the  earliest  of  these  were  Spenser's  [i.e. 
the  twelve  Eclogues,  one  for  each  month  of  the  year,  of  The 
Shepheards  Calender\  It  would  perhaps  be  unjust  to  treat  this 
modern  pastoral  literature  as  altogether  an  affectation.  How- 
ever unreal,  the  pastoral  world  had  its  charms — a  pleasant 
feeling  imparted  of  emancipation,  a  deep  quietude,  a  sweet 
tranquillity." 

Nevertheless,  'unreal'  and  'artificial'  are,  in  varying  degrees, 
just  descriptions  of  practically  all  pastoral  verse  since  Theocritus. 
For  whereas  Theocritus  depicted  shepherd-life  from  the  life — as 
he  saw  it  lived  by  the  shepherds  of  his  native  land — other 
pastoral  writers,  from  Vergil  onwards,  have  depicted  it  from 
poetic  tradition,  Vergil,  as  we  saw,  copied  Theocritus,  Italian 
writers  copied  Vergil,  the  English  copied  the  Italians  plus 
the  classical  poets.  Thus  from  successive  imitations  of  imitations 
arose  a  poetic  tradition  as  to  what  shepherd-life  should  be,  and 
pastoralism  became  neither  more  nor  less  than  a  literary  form. 
The  essential  unreality  of  the  modern  pastoral  is  shown  by  the 
very  fact  that  it  generally  "adopted"  for  its  scene  an  ideal 
"Arcadia"  where  all  was  innocence  and  bliss.  The  invention 
of  this  Arcadia  of  pastoral  verse,  in  which  the  characteristics  of 
the  Golden  Age  were  supposed  to  be  revived,  was  due  to 
Sannazaro.  The  scene  of  Milton's  own  poem  Arcades  is  laid 
in  Arcadia,  as  the  name  shows  ('the  Arcadians').     One  thing,  it 


^  Each  produced  works  which  had  a  great  influence  in  diffusing  a  taste  for 
the  pastoral,  viz.  Sannazaro  the  Arcadia,  1504,  describing  scenes  and 
pursuits  of  pastoral  life,  and  (in  Latin)  Piscatory  Eclogues,  1520,  imitated 
closely  from  Vergil ;  Tasso  the  dramatic  pastoral  ^  ;;;/«^rt,  1573;  and  Guarini, 
the  Pastor  Fido,  1585.  These  are  the  three  writers  to  be  mentioned  in 
connection  with  the  Italian  pastoral. 

2  One  of  the  earliest  English  writers  of  pastorals  was  Barnabe  Googe, 
whose  volume  of  miscellaneous  poems,  Eglogs,  Epytaphes,  and  Sottettes  (see 
Arber's  Reprint),  appeared  in  1563.  It  contains  eight  pastoral  poems,  mostly 
in  dialogue  form:  the  speakers,  shepherds  and  shepherdesses;  the  themes 
discussed,  love,  the  evils  of  towns,  the  country-life,  etc. ;  the  verse  full  of 
old-fashioned  alliteration. 


1 86  COMUS   AND    LYCIDAS. 

should  be  added,  in  Lycidas  whicli  heightens  the  effect  of  un- 
reality is  the  introduction  of  Christianity  in  the  person  of  St  Peter 
after  the  pagan  deities  Neptune  and  /Eolus.  But  parallels  might 
be  quoted  from  earlier  pastoral  poems. 

Lycidas  was  the  last  notable  pastoral  of  the  movement  to 
which  The  Shepheards  Calender  had  given  a  great  impetus. 
The  period  between  Spenser's  poem  and  Milton's  produced 
many  specimens  of  the  various  types  of  pastoral — descriptive, 
dramatic,  elegiac.  The  best  known  of  these  works  were 
Spenser's  own  pastoral  elegy  Astrophel  on  the  death  of  Sir 
Philip  Sidney,  and  the  Spenserian  poems  inspired  by  the  same 
event;  Browne's  descriptive  idyls  entitled  Britannia' s  Pastorals 
and  the  Shepherd'' s  Pipe,  Phineas  Fletcher's  Piscatorie  Eclogues^, 
and  part  of  (iiles  Fletcher's  verse ;  and  in  that  sphere  of  dramatic 
pastoral  where  Tasso's  Aniinta  was  the  approved  model,  John 
Fletcher's  Faithful  Shepherdess,  Ben  Jonson's  Sad  Shepherd,  and 
Milton's  Arcades.  All  these  works  illustrate  aspects  of  Lycidas, 
and  the  Faith fnl  Shepherdess  bears  a  peculiar  relation  to  it.  Of 
pastoral  verse  written  after  Lycidas  it  is  not  necessary  to  speak. 


III. 


"SABRTNA   FAIR":    Coniiis,  824—842. 

The  story  of  Sabrina,  the  "nymph"  of  the  Severn,  had 
been  previously  told  by  several  poets:  by  Drayton  in  the 
Polyolbion,  Sixth  Song,  by  Warner  in  Albioii's  Eui^land,  and 
Spenser  in  77/^  Faerie  Queene,  II.  ro.  14 — 19,  and  in  the  old 
play  Locrine  (absurdly  attributed  at  one  time  to  Shakespeare). 
The  first  presentment,  however,  of  the  legend  occurs  in  the 
Latin  History  of  the  Britons  by  Geoffrey  of  Monmouth  (made 
Bishop  of  St  Asaph  in  1152).  This  Milton  reproduced  in  his 
own  prose  History  of  England.  lie  relates  how  l!rulus  the 
great-grandson  of  iEneas,  landed  in  Albion,  built  Troja  Nova 

'  The  title  is  copied  from  Sannazaro's  Latin  Eclogues,  as  that  of  John 
Fletcher's  pastoral  drama  from  Gnarini's  Pastor  Fido.  Such  iinitntions, 
even  in  the  matter  of  a  title,  are  cliaracteristic  of  the  relation  of  the  English 
pastoral  school  to  the  Italian. 


APPENDIX.  187 

(afterwards  called  Trinovantum  =  London),  and  at  his  death 
divided  his  territory^  between  Locrine,  Albanact,  and  Camber, 
his  three  sons.  Locrine  later  on  defeated  Humber,  king  of  the 
Huns,  who  had  invaded  Britain,  and,  says  Milton,  "among  the 
spoils  of  his  camp  and  navy  were  found  certain  young  maids, 
and  Estrildis  above  the  rest,  passing  fair,  the  daughter  of  a  king 
in  Germany  ;  whom  Locrine,  though  before  contracted  to  the 
daughter  of  Corineus  [a  Trojan  warrior  who  accompanying  Brutus 
to  Britain  had  received  Cornwall],  resolves  to  marry.  But  being 
forced  and  threatened  by  Corineus,  whose  authority  and  power 
he  feared,  Guendolen  the  daughter  he  yields  [consents]  to  marry, 

but  in  secret  he  loves  the  other  [Estrildis]  :  and had  by  her 

a  daughter  equally  fair,  whose  name  was  Sabra.  But  when  once 
his  fear  was  off  by  the  death  of  Corineus,  divorcing  Guendolen, 
he  makes  Estrildis  now  his  queen.  Guendolen,  all  in  rage,  de- 
parts into  Cornwall,  where  Madan,  the  son  she  had  by  Locrine, 
was  hitherto  brought  up  by  Corineus  his  grandfather.  And 
gathering  an  army  of  her  father's  friends  and  subjects,  gives 
battle  to  her  husband  by  the  river  Sture  [i.e.  Stour];  wherein 
Locrine,  shot  with  an  arrow,  ends  his  life.  But  not  so  ends 
the  fury  of  Guendolen  :  for  Estrildis,  and  her  daughter  Sabra, 
she  throws  into  a  river  :  and,  to  leave  a  monument  of  revenge, 
proclaims  that  the  stream  be  thenceforth  called  after  the  damsel's 
name  ;  which,  by  length  of  time,  is  changed  now  to  Sabrina, 
or  Severn" — P.  W.  v.  173,  174. 

Cf.  Spenser  (ii.  10.  19)  describing  how  Guendolen,  having 
taken  "the  faire  Sabrina"  (cf.  Coiftiis,  859)  and  her  mother 
prisoners,  slew  the  latter, 

"But  the  sad  Virgin,  innocent  of  all, 
Adoune  the  rolling  river  she  did  poure, 
Which  of  her  name  now  Severne  men  do  call : 
Such  was  the  end  that  to  disloyall  love  did  fall." 

So  also  at  the  close  of  the  play  Locrini'  (v.  5),  where  Sabren 
drowns  herself,  and  Guendolen  says: 

' '  because  this  river  was  the  place 
Where  little  Sabren  resolutely  died, 
Sabren  for  ever  shall  this  stream  be  call'd." 

Milton  had  hinted  at  the  legend  previously  ;  cf.  the  Vacation 
Exercise^  96,  "  Or  Severn  swift,  guilty  of  maiden's  death." 


i88 


CRITICAL   OPINIONS    ON    COMUS 
AND   LYCIDAS. 

COMUS. 

[JOHNSON  :  LIFE  OF  MILTON.} 

"The  greatest  of  his  juvenile  performances  is  the  'Masque  of 
Comus,'  in  which  may  very  plainly  be  discovered  the  dawn  or 
twilight  of  Paradise  Lost.  Milton  appears  to  have  formed 
very  early  that  system  of  diction,  and  mode  of  verse,  which 
his  maturer  judgment  approved,  and  from  which  he  never 
endeavoured  nor  desired  to  deviate. 

Nor  does  Comus  afford  only  a  specimen  of  his  language; 
it  exhibits  likewise  his  power  of  description  and  his  vigour  of 
sentiment,  employed  in  the  praise  and  defence  of  virtue.  A 
work  more  truly  poetical  is  rarely  found ;  allusions,  images,  and 
descriptive  epithets,  embellish  almost  every  period  with  lavish 
decoration.  As  a  series  of  lines,  therefore,  it  may  be  considered 
as  worthy  of  all  the  admiration  with  which  the  votaries  have 
received  it. 

As  a  drama  it  is  deficient.  The  action  is  not  probable. 
A  masque,  in  those  parts  where  supernatural  intervention  is 
admitted,  must  indeed  be  given  up  to  all  the  freaks  of  imagin- 
ation, but  so  far  as  the  action  is  merely  human,  it  ought  to 
be  reasonable,  which  can  hardly  be  said  of  the  conduct  of  the 
two  brothers;  who,  when  their  sister  sinks  with  fatigue  in 
a  pathless  wilderness,  wander  both  away  together  in  search  of 
berries  too  far  to  find  their  way  back,  and  leave  a  helpless  lady 
to  all  the  sadness  and  danger  of  solitude.  This,  however,  is 
a  defect  overbalanced  by  its  convenience- 


CRITICAL  OPINIONS.  1 89 

What  deserves  more  reprehension  is,  that  the  prologue 
spoken  in  the  wild  wood  by  the  attendant  Spirit  is  addressed 
to  the  audience ;  a  mode  of  communication  so  contrary  to 
the  nature  of  dramatic  representation,  that  no  precedents  can 
support  it. 

The  discourse  of  the  Spirit  is  too  long;  an  objection  that 
may  be  made  to  almost  all  the  following  speeches;  they  have 
not  the  sprightliness  of  a  dialogue  animated  by  reciprocal 
contention,  but  seem  rather  declamations  deliberately  composed, 
and  formally  repeated,  on  a  moral  question.  The  auditor  there- 
fore listens  as  to  a  lecture,  without  passion,  without  anxiety. 

The  song  of  Comus  has  airiness  and  jollity;  but,  what 
may  recommend  Milton's  morals  as  well  as  his  poetry,  the 
invitations  to  pleasure  are  so  general,  that  they  excite  no  distinct 
images  of  corrupt  enjoyment,  and  take  no  dangerous  hold  on 
the  fancy. 

The  following  soliloquies  of  Comus  and  the  Lady  are  elegant 
but  tedious.  The  song  must  owe  much  to  the  voice,  if  it  ever 
can  delight.  At  last  the  Brothers  enter  with  too  much  tran- 
quillity; and,  when  they  have  feared  lest  their  Sister  should  be 
in  danger,  and  hoped  that  she  is  not  in  danger,  the  elder  makes 
a  speech  in  praise  of  chastity,  and  the  younger  finds  how  fine  it 
is  to  be  a  philosopher. 

Then  descends  the  Spirit  in  form  of  a  shepherd ;  and  the 
Brother,  instead  of  being  in  haste  to  ask  his  help,  praises  his 
singing,  and  inquires  his  business  in  that  place.  It  is  remarkable, 
that  at  this  interview  the  Brother  is  taken  with  a  short  fit  of 
rhyming.  The  Spirit  relates  that  the  Lady  is  in  the  power 
of  Comus;  the  Brother  moralises  again;  and  the  Spirit  makes 
a  long  narration,  of  no  use  because  it  is  false,  and  therefore 
unsuitable  to  a  good  being. 

In  all  these  parts  the  language  is  poetical,  and  the  sentiments 
are  generous;  but  there  is  something  wanting  to  allure  attention. 

The  dispute  between  the  Lady  and  Comus  is  the  most 
animated  and  affecting  scene  of  the  drama,  and  wants  nothing 
but  a  brisker  reciprocation  of  objections  and  replies  to  invite 
attention,  and  detain  it. 

The  songs  are  vigorous  and  full  of  imagery;  but  they  are 
harsh  in  their  diction,  and  not  very  musical  in  their  numbers. 

Throughout   the  whole   the   figures  are  too  bold,   and  the 


IQO  COMUS   AND   LYCIDAS. 

language  too  luxuriant  for  dialogue.     It  is  a  drama  in  the  epic 
style,  inelegantly  splendid,  and  tediously  instructive." 


IMACAULAY;    ESSAY  ON  MILTON.\ 

"Milton  attended  in  the  Comus  to  the  distinction  which  he 
afterwards  neglected  in  the  Samson  [Agonisfes].  He  made  his 
Masque  what  it  ought  to  be,  essentially  lyrical,  and  dramatic  only 
in  semblance.  He  has  not  attempted  a  fruitless  struggle  against 
a  defect  inherent  in  the  nature  of  that  species  of  composition; 
and  he  has  therefore  succeeded,  wherever  success  was  not 
impossible.  The  speeches  must  Vje  read  as  majestic  soliloquies; 
and  he  who  so  reads  them  will  be  enraptured  with  their 
eloquence,  their  sublimity,  and  their  music.  The  interruptions 
of  the  dialogue,  however,  impose  a  constraint  upon  the  writer, 
and  break  the  illusion  of  the  reader.  The  hnest  passages  are 
those  which  are  lyric  in  form  as  well  as  in  spirit.  'I  should 
much  commend,'  says  the  excellent  Sir  Henry  Wotton  in  a  letter 
to  Milton,  'the  tragical  part  if  the  lyrical  did  not  ravish  me  with 
a  certain  dorique  delicacy  in  your  songs  and  odes,  whereunto, 
I  must  plainly  confess  to  you,  I  have  seen  yet  nothing  parallel 
in  our  language.'  The  criticism  was  just.  It  is  when  Milton 
escapes  from  the  shackles  of  the  dialogue,  when  he  is  discharged 
from  the  labour  of  uniting  two  incongruous  styles,  when  he  is 
at  liberty  to  indulge  his  choral  raptures  without  reserve,  that  he 
rises  even  above  himself.  Then,  like  his  own  good  genius 
bursting  from  the  earthly  form  and  weeds  of  Thyrsis,  he  stands 
forth  in  celestial  freedom  and  beauty." 

[HALLAM:    LITERATURE  OF  EUROPE.] 

"Ct^w/^j"  was  sufficient  to  convince  anyone  of  taste  and  feeling 
that  a  great  poet  had  arisen  in  England,  and  one  partly  formed 
in  a  different  school  from  his  contemporaries.  Many  of  them 
had  produced  highly  beautiful  and  imaginative  passages ;  but 
none  had  evinced  so  classical  a  judgment,  none  had  aspired 
to  so  regular  a  perfection.  Johnson  had  learned  much  frimi 
the  ancients ;  but  there  was  a  grace  in  their  best  models  which 
he  did  not  quite  attain.  Neither  his  Suii  Shepherd  nor  the 
Faithful  Shepherdess  of  I'lelcher  has  the  elegance  or  dignity  of 


CRITICAL   OPINIONS.  I9I 

Cotnus.  A  noble  virgin  and  her  young  brothers,  by  whom  this 
masque  was  originally  represented,  required  an  elevation,  a 
purity,  a  sort  of  severity  of  sentiment,  which  no  one  in  that  age 
could  have  given  but  Milton.  He  avoided,  and  nothing  loath, 
the  more  festive  notes  which  dramatic  poetry  was  wont  to 
mingle  with  its  serious  strain.  But  for  this  he  compensated  by 
the  brightest  hues  of  fancy  and  the  sweetest  melody  of  song. 
In  Comtis  we  find  nothing  prosaic  or  feeble,  no  false  taste  in  the 
incidents,  and  not  much  in  the  language,  nothing  ever  which  we 
should  desire  to  pass  on  a  second  perusal.  The  want  of  what 
we  may  call  personality,  none  of  the  characters  having  names, 
except  Comus  himself,  who  is  a  very  indefinite  being,  and  the 
absence  of  all  positive  attributes  of  time  and  place,  entrance 
the  ideality  of  the  fiction  by  a  certain  indistinctness  not 
unpleasing  to  the  imagination." 


[BAGEHOT:    LITERARV  STUDIES.^ 

"The  power  of  Counts  is  in  its  style.  A  grave  and  firm  music 
pervades  it :  it  is  soft,  without  a  thought  of  weakness;  harmonious, 
and  yet  strong  ;  impressive,  as  few  such  poems  are,  yet  covered 
with  a  bloom  of  beauty  and  a  complexity  of  charm  that  few  poems 
have  either.  We  have,  perhaps,  light  literature  in  itself  better, 
that  we  read  oftener  and  more  easily,  that  lingers  more  in  our 
memories;  but  we  have  not  any,  we  question  if  there  ever  will 
be  any,  which  gives  so  true  a  conception  of  the  capacity  and  the 
dignity  of  the  mind  by  which  it  was  produced.  The  breath  of 
solemnity  which  hovers  round  the  music  attaches  us  to  the 
writer.  Every  line,  here  as  elsewhere,  in  Milton  excites  the 
idea  of  indefinite  power." 

[R.   GARNETT:    LIFE   OF  MILTON.] 

'■^  Comtis,  the  richest  fruit  of  Milton's  early  genius,  is  the 
epitome  of  the  man  at  the  age  at  which  he  wrote  it.  It  bespeaks 
the  scholar  and  idealist,  whose  sacred  enthusiasm  is  in  some 
danger  of  contracting  a  taint  of  pedantry  for  want  of  acquaintance 
with  men  and  afiairs.  The  Elder  Brother's  dialogues  with  his 
junior  reveal  the  same  solemn  insensibility  to  the  humorous 
which   characterises    the   kindred  genius   of   Wordsworth,   and 


192  COMUS   AND   LYCIDAS. 

would  have  provoked  the  kindly  smile  of  Shakespeare.  It  is 
singular  to  find  the  inevitable  flaw  of  Paradise  Lost  prefigured 
here,  and  the  wicked  enchanter  made  the  real  hero  of  the  piece. 
These  defects  are  interesting,  because  they  represent  the  nature 
of  Milton  as  it  was  then,  noble  and  disinterested  to  the  height 
of  imagination,  but  self-assertive,  unmellovved,  angular.  They 
disappear  entirely  when  he  expatiates  in  the  regions  of  exalted 
fancy,  as  in  the  introductory  discourse  of  the  Spirit,  and  the 
invocation  to  Sabrina.  They  recur  when  he  moralizes ;  and  his 
morality  is  too  interwoven  with  the  texture  of  his  piece  to  be 
other  than  obtrusive.  What  glorious  morality  it  is  no  one  need 
be  told ;  nor  is  there  any  poem  in  the  language  where  beauties 
of  thought,  diction,  and  description  spring  up  more  thickly  than 
in  Cotnus...  It  is,  indeed,  true  that  many  of  these  jewels  are 
fetched  from  the  mines  of  other  poets :  great  as  Milton's 
obligations  to  Nature  were,  his  obligations  to  books  were 
greater.  But  he  has  made  all  his  own  by  the  alchemy  of  his 
genius,  and  borrows  little  but  to  improve." 


[DOWDEN:    TRANSCRIPTS  AND  STUDIES.] 

"  Comiis  is  the  work  of  a  youthful  spirit,  enamoured  of  its 
ideals  of  beauty  and  of  virtue,  zealous  to  exhibit  the  identity  of 
moral  loveliness  with  moral  severity.  The  real  incident^  from 
which  the  mask  is  said  to  have  originated  disengages  itself,  in 
the  imagination  of  Milton,  from  the  world  of  actual  occurrences, 
and  becomes  an  occasion  for  the  dramatic  play  of  his  own 
poetical  abstractions.  The  young  English  gentlemen  cast  off 
their  identity  and  individuality,  and  appear  in  the  elementary 
shapes  of  'First  Brother'  and  'Second  Brother.'  The  Lady 
Alice  rises  into  an  ideal  impersonation  of  virgin  strength  and 
virtue.  The  scene  is  earth ;  a  wild  wood ;  but  earth,  as  in  all 
the  poems  of  Milton,  with  the  heavens  arching  over  it — a  dim 
spot,  in  which  men  'strive  to  keep  up  a  frail  and  feverish  being' 
set  below  the  'starry  threshold  of  Love's  Court.'...  From  its  first 
scene  to  the  last  the  drama  is  a  representation  of  the  trials, 
difficulties,  and  dangers  to  which  moral  purity  is  exposed  in  this 

'  Referring  to  the  popular  but  very  doubtful  tradition  as  to  the  genesi.s 
of  Comus  ;  .sec  the  Introduction. 


CRITICAL   OPINIONS.  193 

world,  and  of  the  victory  of  the  better  principle  in  the  soul, 
gained  by  strenuous  human  endeavour  aided  by  the  grace  of 
God.  In  this  spiritual  warfare  the  powers  of  good  and  evil 
are  arrayed  against  one  another;  upon  this  side  the  Lady,  her 
brothers  (types  of  human  helpfulness  weak  in  itself,  and  liable 
to  go  astray),  and  the  supernatural  powers  auxiliar  to  virtue 
in  heaven  and  in  earth — the  Attendant  Spirit  and  the  nymph 
Sabrina. 

The  enchanter  Comus  is  son  of  Bacchus  and  Circe,  and 
inheritor  of  twofold  vice.  If  Milton  had  pictured  the  life  of 
innocent  mirth  in  L* Allegro,  here  was  a  picture  to  set  beside 
the  other,  a  vision  of  the  genius  of  sensual  indulgence.  Yet 
Comus  is  inwardly,  not  outwardly  foul;  no  grim  monster  like 
that  which  the  mediaeval  imagination  conjured  up  to  terrify  the 
spirit  and  disgust  the  senses.  The  attempt  of  sin  upon  the  soul 
as  conceived  by  Milton  is  not  the  open  and  violent  obsession  of 
a  brute  power,  but  involves  a  cheat,  an  imposture.  The  soul 
is  put  upon  its  trial  through  the  seduction  of  the  senses  and  the 
lower  parts  of  our  nature.  Flattering  lies  entice  the  ears  of 
Eve^;  Christ  is  tried^  by  false  visions  of  power  and  glory,  and 
beneficent  rule;  Samson  is  defrauded  of  his  strength  by  deceitful 
blandishment^.  And  in  like  manner  Comus  must  needs  possess 
a  beauty  of  his  own,  such  beauty  as  ensnares  the  eye  untrained  in 
the  severe  school  of  moral  perfection.... He  is  sensitive  to  rich 
forms  and  sweet  sounds,  graceful  in  oratory,  possessed,  like 
Satan,  of  high  intellect,  but  intellect  in  the  service  of  the  senses; 
he  surrounds  himself  with  a  world  of  art  which  lulls  the  soul 
into  forgetfulness  of  its  higher  instincts  and  of  duty;  his  palace 
is  stately,  and  'set  out  with  all  manner  of  deliciousness.' 

Over  against  this  potent  enchanter  stands  the  virginal  figure 
of  the  Lady,  who  is  stronger  than  he...  Something  of  weakness 
belongs  to  the  Lady,  because  she  is  a  woman,  accustomed  to 
the  protection  of  others,  tenderly  nurtured;  but  when  the  hour 
of  trial  comes  she  shows  herself  strong  in  power's  of  judgment 
and  of  reasoning,  strong  in  her  spiritual  nature,  in  her  tenacity 
of  moral  truth,  in  her  indignation  against  sin.  Although  alone, 
and  encompassed  by  evil  and  danger,  she  is   fearless,   and  so 


^  Paradise  Lo^t,  ix.  532 — 732.  ^  Paradise  Regained,  iii.  iv. 

3   Samson  Agonistes,  392 — 411. 

V.  c.  13 


194  COMUS   AND   LYCIDAS. 

clear-sighted  that  the  juggling  practice  of  her  antagonist  is 
wholly  ineffectual  against  her.  There  is  much  in  the  Lady 
which  resembles  the  youthful  Milton  himself,  and  we  may  well 
believe  that  the  great  debate  concerning  temperance  was  not 
altogether  dramatic  (where,  indeed,  is  Milton  truly  dramatic?), 
but  was  in  part  a  record  of  passages  in  the  poet's  own  spiritual 
history.  Milton  admired  the  Lady  as  he  admired  the  ideal 
which  he  projected  before  him  of  himself." 


LYCIDAS. 

[JOHNSON  :   LIFE  OF  MIL  TON.'] 

"Those  who  admire  the  beauties  of  this  great  poet  sometimes 
force  their  own  judgment  into  false  approbation  of  his  little 
pieces,  and  prevail  upon  themselves  to  think  that  admirable 
which  is  only  singular.  All  that  short  compositions  can  com- 
monly attain  is  neatness  and  elegance.  Milton  never  learned 
the  art  of  doing  little  things  with  grace;  he  overlooked  the 
milder  excellence  of  suavity  and  softness  ;  he  was  a  '  lion '  that 
had  no  skill  in  'dandling  the  kid.' 

One  of  the  poems  on  which  much  praise  has  been  bestowed 
is  Lycidas ;  of  which  the  diction  is  harsh,  the  rhymes  un- 
certain, and  the  numbers  unpleasing.  What  beauty  there  is 
we  must  therefore  seek  in  the  sentiments  and  images.  It  is 
not  to  be  considered  as  the  effusion  of  real  passion  ;  for  passion 
runs  not  after  remote  allusions  and  obscure  opinions.  Passion 
plucks  no  berries  from  the  myrtle  and  ivy,  nor  calls  upon 
Arethuse  and  Mincius,  nor  tells  of  rough  '  satyrs '  and  '  fauns 
with  cloven  heel.'  Where  there  is  leisure  for  fiction,  there  is 
little  grief. 

In  this  poem  there  is  no  nature,  for  there  is  no  truth  ;  there 
is  no  art,  for  there  is  nothing  new.  Its  form  is  that  of  a  pastoral ; 
easy,  vulgar,  and  therefore  disgusting  ;  whatever  images  it  can 
supply  are  long  ago  exhausted ;  and  its  inherent  improbability 
always  forces  dissatisfaction  on  the  mind.  When  Cowley  tells 
of  Ilervey,  that  they  studied  together,  it  is  easy  to  suppose  how 
much  he  must  miss  the  companion  of  his  labours,  and  the  partner 


CRITICAL  OPINIONS.  1 95 

of  his  discoveries ;  but  what  image  of  tenderness  can  be  excited 
by  these  lines  ? — 

'  We  drove  afield,  and  both  together  heard 
What  time  the  grey  fly  winds  her  sultry  horn, 
Battening  our  flocks  with  the  fresh  dews  of  night.' 

We  know  that  they  never  drove  afield,  and  that  they  had  no 
flocks  to  batten ;  and  though  it  be  allowed  that  the  representa- 
tion may  be  allegorical,  the  true  meaning  is  so  uncertain  and 
remote,  that  it  is  never  sought,  because  it  cannot  be  known  when 
it  is  found. 

Among  the  flocks,  and  copses,  and  flowers,  appear  the 
heathen  deities  ;  Jove  and  Phoebus,  Neptune  and  Aeolus,  with 
a  long  train  of  mythological  imagery,  such  as  a  college  easily 
supplies.  Nothing  can  less  display  knowledge,  or  less  exercise 
invention,  than  to  tell  how  a  shepherd  has  lost  his  companion, 
and  must  now  feed  his  flocks  alone,  without  any  judge  of  his 
skill  in  piping;  and  how  one  god  asks  another  god  what  is 
become  of  Lycidas,  and  how  neither  god  can  tell.  He  who 
thus  grieves  will  excite  no  sympathy ;  he  who  thus  praises  will 
confer  no  honour. 

This  poem  has  yet  a  grosser  fault.  With  these  trifling 
fictions  are  mingled  the  most  awful  and  sacred  truths,  such  as 
ought  never  to  be  polluted  with  such  irreverend  combinations. 
The  shepherd  likewise  is  now  a  feeder  of  sheep,  and  afterwards 
an  ecclesiastical  pastor,  a  superintendent  of  a  Christian  flock. 
Such  equivocations  are  always  unskilful ;  but  here  they  are 
indecent,  and  at  least  approach  to  impiety,  of  which,  however, 
I  believe  the  writer  not  to  have  been  conscious. 

Such  is  the  power  of  reputation  justly  acquired,  that  its  blaze 
drives  away  the  eye  from  nice  examination.  Surely  no  man 
could  have  fancied  that  he  read  Lycidas  with  pleasure,  had  he 
not  known  its  author." 

[HALLAM:    LITERATURE  OF  EUROPE.^ 

"  It  has  been  said,  I  think  very  fairly,  that  Lycidas  is  a  good 
test  of  a  real  feeling  for  what  is  peculiarly  called  poetry.  Many, 
or  perhaps  we  might  say,  most  readers,  do  not  taste  its  excellence; 
nor  does  it  follow  that  they  may  not  greatly  admire  Pope  and 
Dryden,  or  even  Virgil  and  Homer.     It  is,  however,  somewhat 


196  COMUS    AND   LYCIDAS. 

remarkable  that  Johnson,  who  has  committed  his  critical  reputa- 
tion by  the  most  contemptuous  depreciation  of  this  poem,  had  in 
an  earlier  part  of  his  life  selected  the  tenth  eclogue  of  Virgil  for 
peculiar  praise ;  the  tenth  eclogue,  which,  beautiful  as  it  is, 
belongs  to  the  same  class  of  pastoral  and  personal  allegory,  and 
requires  the  same  sacrifice  of  reasoning  criticism  as  the  Lycidas 
itself.  In  the  age  of  Milton  the  poetical  world  had  been  accustomed 
by  the  Italian  and  Spanish  writers  to  a  more  abundant  use  of 
allegory  than  has  been  pleasing  to  their  posterity;  but  Lycidas 
is  not  so  much  in  the  nature  of  an  allegory  as  of  a  masque  ;  the 
characters  pass  before  our  eyes  in  imagination,  as  on  the  stage ; 
they  are  chiefly  mythological,  but  not  creations  of  the  poet.  Our 
sympathy  with  the  fate  of  Lycidas  may  not  be  much  stronger 
than  for  the  desertion  of  Gallus^  by  his  mistress  ;  but  many  poems 
will  yield  an  exquisite  pleasure  to  the  imagination  that  produce 
no  emotion  in  the  heart ;  or  none  at  least  except  through 
associations  independent  of  the  subject. 

The  introduction  of  St  Peter  after  the  fabulous  deities  of  the 
sea  has  appeared  an  incongruity  deserving  of  censure  to  some 
admirers  of  this  poem.  It  would  be  very  reluctantly  that  we 
could  abandon  to  this  criticism  the  most  splendid  passage  it 
presents.  But  the  censure  rests,  as  I  think,  on  too  narrow  a 
principle.  In  narrative  or  dramatic  poetry,  where  something 
like  illusion  or  momentary  belief  is  to  be  produced,  the  mind 
requires  an  objective  possibility,  a  capacity  of  real  existence,  not 
only  in  all  the  separate  portions  of  the  imagined  story,  but  in 
their  coherency  and  relation  to  a  common  whole.  Whatever  is 
obviously  incongruous,  whatever  shocks  our  previous  knowledge 
of  possibility,  destroys  to  a  certain  extent  that  acquiescence  in  the 
fiction  which  it  is  the  true  business  of  the  fiction  to  produce. 
But  the  case  is  not  the  same  in  such  poems  as  Lycidas.  They 
pretend  to  no  credibility,  they  aim  at  no  illusion  ;  they  are  read 
with  the  willing  abandonment  of  the  imagination  to  a  waking 
dream,  and  require  only  that  general  possibility,  that  combination 
of  images,  which  common  experience  does  not  reject  as  incom- 
patible, without  which  the  fancy  of  the  poet  would  be  only  like 
that  of  the  lunatic.  And  it  had  been  so  usual  to  blend  sacred 
with  mythological  personages  in  allegory,  that  no  one  probably 
in  Milton's  age  would  have  been  struck  by  the  objection." 

*  The  shepherd  in  the  tenth  Eclogue. 


CRITICAL   OPINIONS.  197 

[MARK  PATTISON:    LIFE  OF  MILTON.-\ 

"  In  Lycidas  (1637)  we  have  reached  the  high-water  mark  of 
Enghsh  Poesy  and  of  Milton's  own  production.  A  period  of  a 
century  and  a  half  was  to  elapse  before  poetry  in  England  seemed, 
in  Wordsworth's  Ode  on  Itufnortalily '{x^o*]),  to  be  rising  again 
towards  the  level  of  inspiration  to  which  it  had  once  attained  in 
Lycidas.  And  in  the  development  of  the  Miltonic  genius  this 
wonderful  dirge  marks  the  culminating  point.  As  the  twin 
idylls^  of  1632  show  a  great  advance  upon  the  Ode  on  the 
Nativity  (1629),  the  growth  of  the  poetic  mind  during  the  five 
years  which  follow  1632  is  registered  in  Lycidas.  Like  the 
V Allegro  and  //  Penseroso,  Lycidas  is  laid  out  on  the  lines  of 
the  accepted  pastoral  fiction;  like  them  it  offers  exquisite  touches 
of  idealised  rural  life.  But  Lycidas  opens  up  a  deeper  vein  of 
feeling,  a  patriot  passion  so  vehement  and  dangerous,  that,  like 
that  which  stirred  the  Hebrew  prophet,  it  is  compelled  to  veil 
itself  from  power,  or  from  sympathy,  in  utterance  made  purposely 
enigmatical.  The  passage  which  begins  'Last  came  and  last  did 
go,'  raises  in  us  a  thrill  of  awe-struck  expectation  which  I  can 
only  compare  with  that  excited  by  the  Cassandra  of  .-Eschylus's 
Agamemnon.  For  the  reader  to  feel  this,  he  must  have  present 
in  memory  the  circumstances  of  England  in  1637.  He  must 
place  himself  as  far  as  possible  in  the  situation  of  a  colemporary. 
The  study  of  Milton's  poetry  compels  the  study  of  his  time;  and 
Professor  Masson's  six  volumes'^  are  not  too  much  to  make  us  to 
understand  that  there  were  real  causes  for  the  intense  passion 
which  glows  underneath  the  poet's  words — a  passion  which 
unexplained  would  be  thought  to  be  intrusive. 

The  historical  exposition  must  be  gathered  from  the  English 
history  of  the  period,  which  may  be  read  in  Professor  Masson's 
excellent  summary.  All  I  desire  to  point  out  here  is,  that  in 
Lycidas,  Milton's  original  picturesque  vein  is  for  the  first  time 
crossed  with  one  of  quite  another  sort,  stern,  determined, 
obscurely  indicative  of  suppressed  passion,  and  the  resolution 
to  do  or  die.     The  fanaticism  of  the  covenanter  and   the  sad 

1  L' Allegro  and  //  Penseroso.  They  may  be  called  idyls,  being  short 
but  elaborately  wrought  descriptive  poems.  Gk.  eiSuMioj'  =  a  short,  descrip- 
tive poem. 

2  His  great  Life  of  Milton. 


198  COMUS   AND   LYCIDAS. 

grace  of  Petrarch  seem  to  meet  in  Milton's  monody.  Yet  these 
opposites,  instead  of  neutralising  each  other,  are  blended  into 
one  harmonious  whole  by  the  presiding,  but  invisible,  genius 
of  the  poet.  The  conflict  between  the  old  cavalier  world — the 
years  of  gaiety  and  festivity  of  a  splendid  and  pleasure-loving 
court,  and  the  new  puritan  world  into  which  love  and  passion 
were  not  to  enter — this  conflict  which  was  commencing  in  the 
social  life  of  England,  is  also  begun  in  Milton's  own  breast,  and 
is  reflected  in  Lycidas. 

'  For  we  were  nurs'd  upon  the  self-same  hill.' 
Here  is  the  sweet  niournfulness  of  the  Spenserian  time,  upon 
whose  joys  Death  is  the  only  intruder.     Pass  onward  a  little,  and 
you  are  in  the  presence  of  the  tremendous 

'  Two-handed  engine  at  the  door,' 
the  terror  of  which  is  enhanced  by  its  obscurity.  We  are  very 
sure  that  the  avenger  is  there,  though  we  know  not  who  he  is. 
In  these  thirty  lines  we  have  the  preluding  mutterings  of  the 
storm  which  was  to  sweep  away  mask  and  revel  and  song,  to 
inhibit  the  drama,  and  suppress  poetry.  In  the  earlier  poems 
Milton's  muse  has  sung  in  the  tones  of  the  age  that  is  passing 
away;  the  poet  is,  except  in  his  austere  chastity,  a  cavalier. 
Though  even  in  V Allegro  Dr  Johnson  truly  detects  '  some 
melancholy  in  his  mirth.'  In  Lycidas,  for  a  moment,  the  tones 
of  both  ages,  the  past  and  the  coming,  are  combined,  and  then 
Milton  leaves  behind  him  for  ever  the  golden  age,  and  one  half 
of  his  poetic  genius."  ^ 


POLITICAL  AND    SOCIAL   ASPECTS   OF    MILTON'S 
EARLY    POEMS. 

[STOPFORD   BROOKE:    "CLASSICAL    ly^RITERS,"  MILTON.] 

"  Puritanism,  when  Milton  began  to  write,  was  not  universally 
apart  from  literature  and  the  fine  arts.     In  its  staid  and  pure 

'  I  tliiiik  that  most  students  would  regard  this  as  somewhat  an  over- 
statement of  the  case.  Mr  Mark  Pattison  grudged  Milton's  intervention  in 
politics  and  theological  controversy,  and  perhaps  rather  over-estimated  its 
evil  effect  on  the  poet  and  under-estimated   the  good. 


CRITICAL   OPINIONS.  I99 

religion  Milton's  work  had  its  foundation,  but  the  temple  he  had 
begun  to  build  upon  it  was  quarried  from  the  ancient  and  modern 
arts  and  letters  of  Greece  and  Italy  and  England.  And  filling 
the  temple  rose  the  peculiar  incense  of  the  Renaissance.  The 
breath  of  that  spirit  is  felt  in  the  classicalism  of  the  Ode  to  the 
Nativity^  in  the  love  proclaimed  for  Shakespeare,  in  the  graceful 
fancy  of  the  Epitaph  to  Lady  Winchester,  and  in  the  gaiety  of 
the  Ode  to  a  May  Morning.  But  a  new  element,  other  than 
any  the  Renaissance  could  produce,  is  here  ;  the  element  that 
filled  the  Psalms  of  David,  the  deep,  personal,  passionate  religion 
of  the  Puritan,  possessing,  and  possessed  by,  God.  Over  against 
the  Renaissance  music  is  set  the  high  and  devout  strain  of  the 
first  sonnet  and  of  the  Odes  to  Time  and  A  Solemn  Musick.  Even 
while  at  Cambridge,  the  double  being  in  Milton  makes  itself  felt, 
the  struggle  between  the  two  spirits  of  the  time  is  reflected  in  his 
work.  These  contrasted  spirits  in  him  became  defined  as  the 
political  and  social  war  deepened  around  his  life.  The  second 
sonnet  still  is  gay,  fresh  with  the  morn  of  love,  Petrarca  might 
have  written  it ;  the  Allegj'o  does  not  disdain  the  love  of  nature, 
the  rustic  sports,  the  pomp  of  courts,  the  playhouse  and  the  land 
of  faery,  nor  does  the  Penseroso  refuse  to  haunt  the  dim  cathedral. 
But  yet,  in  these  two  poems  more  than  in  the  Cambridge  poems, 
the  deepening  of  the  struggle  is  felt.  Milton  seems  to  presage 
in  them  that  the  time  would  come  when  the  gaiety  of  England 
would  cease  to  be  shared  in  by  serious  men  ;  when  the  mirth  of 
the  Cavalier  would  shut  out  the  pleasures  derived  from  lofty 
Melancholy,  because  they  shut  out  the  devil;  as  the  Puritan 
pensiveness  would  be  driven  to  shut  out  the  pleasures  of  Mirth, 
because  they  shut  out  God.  While  he  gives  full  weight  in  the 
Allegro  X.0  'unreproved  pleasures  free,'  he  makes  it  plain  in  the 
Penseroso  that  he  prefers  the  sage  and  holy  pleasures  of  thought- 
ful sadness.  These  best  befitted  the  solemn  aspect  of  the  time. 
A  few  years  later  and  the  presage  had  come  true.  Milton  is 
driven  away  from  even  the  Allegro  point  of  view.  In  Conius 
the  wild  licence  of  the  Court  society  is  set  over  against  the  grave 
and  temperate  virtue  of  a  Puritan  life.  The  unchastity,  the 
glozing  lies,  the  glistering  apparel  that  hid  moral  deformity, 
the  sloth  and  drunkenness,  the  light  fantastic  round  of  the 
enchanter's  character  and  court,  are  (it  seems  likely)  Milton's 
allegory  of  the  Court  society  of  his  time.    The  stately  philosophy 


200  COMUS   AND   LYCIDAS. 

of  the  Brothers  which  had  its  root  in  subduing  passion  and  its 
top  in  the  love  of  God  ;  the  virginal  chastity  of  the  Lady,  and  at 
the  end  the  releasing  power  of  Sabrina's  purity,  exalt  and  (ill  up 
more  sternly  the  idea  of  the  Pcnso-oso  and  symbolise  that  noble 
Puritanism  which  loved  learning  and  beauty  only  when  they 
Avere  pure,  but  holiness  far  more  than  either.  It  may  be,  as 
Mr  Browne  supports,  that  there  is  a  second  allegory  within  the 
first,  of  Laud  and  his  party  as  the  Sorcerer  commending  the 
cup  of  Rome  by  wile  and  threat  to  the  lips  of  the  Church  and 
enforcing  it  by  fine  and  imprisonment ;  paralysing  in  stony 
fetters  the  Lady  of  the  Church.  It  may  be  that  Milton  called 
in  this  poem  on  the  few  who,  having  resisted  like  the  Brothers, 
Vjut  failed  to  set  the  Church  free,  ought  now  to  employ  a  new 
force,  the  force  of  Purity  ;  but  this  aspect  of  the  struggle  is  at 
least  not  so  clear  in  Comus  as  in  Lycidas. 

In  Lvcidas  Milton  has  thrown  away  the  last  shreds  of 
Church  and  State  and  is  Presbyterian.  The  strife  now  at  hand 
starts  into  prominence,  and  not  to  the  bettering  of  the  poem 
as  a  piece  of  art.  It  is  brought  in — and  the  fault  is  one  which 
frequently  startles  us  in  Milton — without  any  regard  to  the  unity 
of  feeling  in  the  poem.  The  passage  on  the  hireling  Church 
looks  like  an  after- thought,  and  Milton  draws  attention  to  it  in 
the  argument.  'The  author. ..by  occasion  foretells  the  ruin  of 
our  corrupted  clergy  then  in  their  height.'  But  he  does  not 
leave  Laud  and  his  policy  nor  the  old  Church  tenderly.  When 
he  felt  strongly,  he  wrote  fiercely.  The  passage  is  a  splendid 
and  a  fierce  cry  of  wrath,  and  the  rough  trumpet  note,  warlike 
and  unsparing,  which  it  sounds  against  the  unfaithful  herdsmen 
who  are  sped  and  the  'grim  wolf  with  privy  paw,'  was  to  ring 
louder  and  louder  through  the  prose  works,  and  finally  to 
clash  in  the  ears  of  those  very  Presbyterians  whom  he  now 
supported. 

There  is  then  a  steady  progress  of  thought  and  of  change  in 
the  poems.  The  Milton  of  Lycidas  is  not  the  Milton  of  Comas. 
The  Milton  of  Comus  is  not  the  Milton  of  the  Penscroso,  less 
still  of  the  Allegro.  The  Milton  of  the  Pcnseroso  is  not  the 
Milton  of  the  Ode  to  the  Nativity.  Nothing  of  the  Renaissance 
is  left  now  but  its  learning  and  its  art." 


20I 


T.     INDEX    OF    WORDS    AND    PHRASES. 

This  List  applies  to  the  Notes  only;  words  of  tvhich  longer 
explanations  are  given  xvill  be  found  in  the  Glossary.  The  refer- 
ences are  to  the  pages. 

Abbreviations:        11.  =  noun.  vb  =  verb. 


abhorred  (  =  detestable)  94 

advanced  122 

adventurous  63 

affects  (  =  likes)  83 

agate  115 

airy  shell  72 

alabaster  100 

all  ear  96 

all  to- ruffled  82 

allay  64 

amain   142 

amaranthus  150 

amazement  80 

amber   78 

amber-dropping  in 

amiss  68 

appariti-6n  99 

arbitrate  the  event  84 

aspects  101 

asphodil  no 

at  the  door  (=  ready  at  hand) 

147 

attendance  {  =  attendants)  78 
awe-strook  77 

banded  (  =  discussed)  50 
bandite  85 
bard   134 
bare  (  =  mere)  97 
barking  74 
batten  131 

be  it  not  (  =  provided  that  it 
be  not)  85 


bead  83 

bell  (of  a  flower)  148 

benison  78 

beryl  1 1 7 

bespake  143 

bier  127 

blanch  (=to  omit)  50 

blank  88 

blaze  137 

blear  67 

blind  (  =  obscure)  69 

blow  (  =  make  to  bloom)   120 

blows  (vb,  =  flowers)   134 

blue  86 

blue-haired  57 

bolt  105 

bolt  of  Cupid  87 

bonnet   141 

bosoms  8 1 

bower  59 

brimmed  116 

brow  (vb)  93 

brown  (  =  dark)   125 

brute  107 

budge  (fur)   102 

build   127 

canker  133 
canon  law  108 
Carpathian  wizard   1 1 3 
cassia  120 
cast  (vb)  81 
cedarn  119 


202 


INDEX. 


charactered  93 

Chimaera  92 

clear  137 

climb  143 

close-curtained  95 

cloudy  66 

complete  85 

complexion  (four  syllables)  104 

con  la  bocca  dolce  50 

congealed  88 

constant  81 

converse  89 

convinced  (  =  refuted)  107 

convoy  62 

comer  122 

corporal  rind  100 

creep  143 

crew  99 

croft  93 

crow-toe  150 

crude  90,    126 

crumble  97 

curfew  time  86 

curious  102 

Cynic  tub  102 

Cynosure  79 

cypress  93 

daffadillies  150 

dashed  88 

day-star  154 

dear  126 

Delphian  oracle  52 

descry  66 

dingle  77 

disinherit  79 

doing  rites  94 

dolphin  154 

Doric  (Theocritean)  50,   157 

draM'  145 

drouth  6 1 

drowsy-flighted  95,  96 

Dryades  118 

dun  65 

each... every  77 
earth-shaking  1 1 2 
easy- hearted  68 


ebon  66 

element  77 

enamelled  148 

enchanting  135 

ends  (purposes)  67 

engaged  69 

engine  147 

every... each  56,   140 

express  61 

extreme  75 

eye  149 

eye  me  78 

eyelids  of  the  Morn  130 

fabulous  92 

faery  86 

fairly  68 

fall  (  =  cadence)  73 

favour  129 

fence  107 

fill  94 

flashy   145 

floor  154 

flowery-kirtled  74 

flute  131 

foil  138 

fondly  135 

footing  141 

forced  (=  unwilling)   126 

forgery  10 1 

forsaken  149 

frail  55 

freaked   150 

freezed  87,  88 

frieze  103 

frolic  60 

gadding  132 

gear  (  =  business)  68 

glistering  63,   138 

glowing   150 

go  about   100 

golden  key  55 

good   156 

governor  (  =  tutor)  51 

grain  (  =  hue)   104 

grange  68 

gratulate  117 


INDEX. 


203 


gray-fly  131 
gray-hooded  Even  69 
green  earth's  end  122 
guerdon  137 

Hsemony  99 
hairy  141 
hall  or  bower  59 
hearse  151 
heave  114 
helping  in 
herdman  144 
hermit  83 
his  (  =  its)   116 
home-felt  75 
honied  149 
horrid  shades  85 
horror  58 
Hours  119 
how  chance?   91 

if  (z=even  if)  84 
ill-managed  68 
Indian  (  =  eastern)  66 
infamous  85 
infer  84 
inform  69 
innumerous  80 
insphered  54 
intrude  143 
ivy  124,   125 

julep  100 
just  55 

knot-grass  94 
knows  to  62 

lackey  (vb)  88 

lank  no 

lap  (vb)  74 

lastly  139 

laureate  150 

laurel  124,   125 

lawn  96 

lean  145 

leavy  76 

legions  (trisyllabic)  96 


likeliest  63 

liquid  119 

litter  (chariot)  95 

lodge  (vb)  69 

looks  148 

loose  (  =  loosed)  76 

love-darting   105 

low-thoughted  care  54 

lucky  129 

mace  1 1 2 
meagre  86 
measure  67 

meditate  the  Muse  136 
meed  128 
melancholy  94 
mincing  1 1 8 
mitred  142 
Moly  98 
monody   124 
monstrous  rout  93 
mood  139 
morrice  65 
mortal  change  55 
mortal  frailty  loi 
mould  56 
mountaineer  85 
mountain-pard  87 
mouth  (=glutton)  144 
murmur  93 
Muse  129 
mutual  104 
myrtle  124,  125 
mystery  107 

nard  120 
navel  93 
near-ushering  76 
nectared  90,   no 
Nepenthes  101 
nerve  100,   107 
nether  Jove  57 
new-enlivened  71 
new-spangled  155 
night-foundered  90 
not  unplausible  68 
notion   107 
nuptial  155 


204 


INDEX. 


nursed   1 30 

oat   J  40 
obtruding   105 
ominous  (dissyllabic)  61 
ore  102 
ounce  61 
over-exquisite  81 

palmer  69 

pansy  150 

parley  72 

pastoral  reed  80 

pearled  110 

peer  126 

perfect  61 

period  (  =  sentence)  96 

perplexed  (  =  entangled)  58 

pet  103 

pledge  142 

port  (  =  bearing)  77 

potent  herbs  74 

pranked  105 

presented    (  =  represented    the 

characters)  52 
presentment  67 
printless  115 
prisoned  74 
privy  paw   146 
property  89 

purple  (  =  inipurple)   149 
put  by  100 

quarters  (assigns)  57 
quill   157 
quivered  85 

rank  145 
rathe  149 
reared   1 1  o 
recks  84 

ribs  of  Death  96 
rifted  93 
rosy  twine  64 
rosy-bosomed   119 
round  (n.)  67 
rout  63 
rushy-fringed  115 


sadly  92 

sampler  104 

sanguine  flower  142 

saw  (maxim)  64 

school  87 

scrannel   145 

scrip  98 

sedge  141 

seeks  to  82 

self-delusi-on  81 

sensualty  90 

serene  54 

set  off  107 

shaggy  135 

shatter  (  =  disturb)   126 

sheen  122 

shelves  (banks  of  streams)  65 

shew  (rhyming  with  /r«<')  92 

shroud  (  =  are  sheltering)  78 

shrunk   147 

siding  70 

simples  98 

sincerely  88 

single  (  =  mere)  81 

single  (  =  total)  70 

sire   1 41 

skilled  98 

slits   138 

slope  64 

smoke  and  stir  54 

snaky-headed  87 

so  to  seek  81 

sorry   1 04 

sour  64 

sped   1 44 

spots  (obsolete  form  of  s/i/s)  66 

sphery  clime  123 

spreading  favour  69 

spruce  119 

square  78 

stabled  93 

star  of  Arcady  79 

stead  (  =  service)  97 

steam  of  perfume  95 

stepdamc   109 

still  96 

stoop  78 

stops  80 


INDEX. 


205 


store  106 
stoned  92 
stray  78 

Stygian  darkness  66 
sun-clad  106 
supreme  71 
surcharged   103 
swart  star  14S 
sways  109 
sweep  128 
swilled  68 
syllable  (vb)   70 

tapestry  78 

tear   128 

tease  104 

tempered  (=attuned)   131 

tempered  awe  58 

temple  of  the  mind  89 

thankless   136 

that  {  =  so  that)  96 

then  when  69 

timely   it8 

linsel-shppered  113 

to  (  =  compared  to)  gi 

to  (  =  so  as  to)  73 

to  see  to  (  =  to  behold)  08 

trace  85 

translated  (  =  raised  aloft)  72 

tresses  i r  7 

tricks  r55 

two-handed   147 

unadorned  57 

unblemished   71 

unblenched  85 

unblessed   116 

uncontrolled  ( =  uncontrollable) 

107 
uncouth   156  ■ 

unexpressive   155 
unharboured  85 
unowned  84 
unprincipled  81 
unsought   103 
unsunned  84 
unsuperfiuous  106 
unthread  97 


unweeting  94 

un  withdrawing  102 

urchin  i i i 

urn  (  =  tomb)   129 

use   137 

use  (  =  dwell)   148 

velvet  (  =  soft  as  velvet)   115 
vermeil-tinctured   104 
very  (  =  utter)  85 
viewless  6^ 
virtuous  98 
vizored  loi 
vocal  139 
votarist  69 
vows   152 

waft   154 

wakes  (n.)  65 

wan   150 

wanton  148 

wardrobe   133 

warranted  78 

was  up  94 

waste  103,    117 

wattled  cotes  80 

wavering  niorrice  65 

waxing  121 

weanling  133 

well-attired   150 

well-practised  77 

welter  128 

what  boots  1 3;6 

what  time  (  =  at  the  time  when) 

76 
when  r-till)  96 
while  (  =  so  long  as)  100 
wind  68 
winding  113 

winds  (vb,  =  sounds)   131 
wink  on  84 
without  (  =  beyond)  84 
wont'st  78 
woodbine   150 
worthy   107 

ye  (objective)  71 


206 


IL     GENERAL   INDEX   TO   NOTES. 


abstract  for  concrete  78,    154 

abstractions  personified  64 

Acheron  96,  97 

adjectival  and  participial  ter- 
minations, shifting  use  of,  80 

adjective  doing  duty  of  first 
part  of  compound  noun  93 

Adonis  no,  121 

Alexandrine  verse  72 

alliteration  62,  79,  81,  96,  103, 
109,  114,  128,  151 

Amaryllis,  common  shepherd- 
ess name  in  pastoral  verse, 

137 

Amphitrite  116 

Anchises  116 

Aphrodite  121 

Arethusa,  the  spring  typifying 

Greek  pastoral  verse,    139 
Arnold,      Matthew,      borrows 

from  Milton,   80 
Arthurian      legend,      Milton's 

contemplated  poem  on,  152 
Atropos,  one  of  the  Fates,  138 

Bellerus  152 
Brackley,   Lord,  48 
Branthwaite,  Michael,  51 
Budge-row   102 

Camus  141 
cardinal  humours  109 
Charybdis  74 

Chastity,  Faith,  Hope  and,  71 
Circe  59 

classical  and  Christian  ideas 
blended  156 


Clergy,  indictment  against  a 
certain  section  of,   143 

Coleridge  imitating  Milton  127 

Collins's  Ode  to  Evening  re- 
miniscent of  Milton   131 

Comus  typifies  sensuality  and 
magical  power  60 

Cotyttia  66 

Cotytto,  or  Cotys,  a  Thracian 
goddess,  66 

*  courtesy, 'derived  from  'court,' 

78 
Cynics   102 

Damoetas,  a  common  name  in 
pastoral  writers,    132 

Daphne  100 

Deva,  the  river  Dee,   135 

Dian,  Diana,  87 

'dimple' and  'dingle,' doublets, 
from  Norwegian  depil=  '  a 
pool,'  77 

Diodati  98 

Diogenes  102 

Druids   134 

Dryden,  famous  lines  on  Mil- 
ton,  129 


Echo  71,   72 

eclipse     proverbially    of 

omen  140 
-ed  {  =  -able)  80,  94,   107 
Elysium   74 

emphatic  repetition  97 
Erebus  108 
Euripides  53 


evil 


INDEX. 


207 


Fates  138 

Fletcher,  Giles,  studied  closely 
by  Milton,  141 

flowers,  enumeration  of  a  num- 
ber of,  149 

Furies  99,    138 

Genius  156 

Glaucus,  the  Boeotian  fisher- 
man metamorphosed  into  a 
sea-god,    113 

Gnomes  77 

Gorgoneion  87 

Graces  119 

Gray,  Elegy,  70 ;  Progress  of 
Poesy,   73 

Great  Bear  79 

Greek  idiom  70 

Guardian  Angel  88 

Hales,  John,   50 

Harpies  97 

Hebrus,  the  principal  river  of 

Thrace,    136 
Hecate  66 
Hippotades  =  ^olus,    god    of 

the  winds,    140 
Hydra  97 

Iberia  6r 

imagery  69,   70 

Ind,  Inde,  97 

inversion  of  order  of  words  55 

-ion  often  treated  as  two  syl- 
lables in  Shakespeare  and  in 
Milton's  early  poems  81 

Iris  120 

■ive  for  -ible  155 

Jack-o'-the-Lanthorn  86 

Keats,    influence    of    Milton's 
diction  very  marked  in,  65 
King,   Edward,    127 

Lacrymae,  collections  of  elegiac 

verse,  128 
Latinism  59,  85,  108 


laurel  symbolises  poetry  in 
general,  myrtle  and  ivy 
particular  aspects  of  poetry, 
124 

Lawes,   Henry,  47,  48 

Lesser  Bear  79 

Leucothea  113 

Ligea,  one  of  the  Sirens,   114 

'literary'  compound   115 

litotes  68 

Lotophagi  62 

Lycidas,  a  common  name  in 
pastoral  poetry,    124 

Meander   (modern    Mendereh) 

meiosis  68,   131 

Meliboeus,  a  pastoral  name  in 
classical  poetry,   109 

Mercator's  Atlas  153 

metaphor  of  darkness  as  a 
dusky  bird  73 

Milton,  blending  of  Scriptural 
and  classical  associations — a 
great  feature  of  his  style,  55 ; 
early  studies,  description  of, 
106 ;  great  influence  of  the 
diction  of  his  poems  119; 
the  Ptolemaic  theory  of  the 
'spheres'  studied  by,   123 

Mincius,  the  river,  made  to 
represent  Latin  pastoral 
verse,    139 

Mona,  the  isle  of  Anglesey,  135 

morris-dance  65 

'mus'c  of  the  spheres'  123 

mythology,  classical,  varied  by 
Milton,  60,  61,  74 

Neoera,  common  shepherdess 
name  in  pastoral  verse,  137 

Nereus  no 

noun  placed  between  two 
qualifying  words  70,   126 

Nymphs  77 

oaten  pipe,  symbolical  of  pas- 
toral music,  80 


208 


INDEX. 


Oceanus  112 

Panope,  one  of  the  fifty  daugh- 
ters of  Nereus,  140 

parallels  in  Elizabethan  poets 
104 

Parthenia  85 

Parthenojie,  one  of  the  Sirens, 
ri4 

pastoral  style  129 

pathetic  repetition   132 

i^hoebus  (  =  Apollo,  the  Greek 
god  of  song)   138 

Plato's  Phcedo,  passage  adapted 
from  by  Milton,  89 

Pope    borrows     from     Milton 

54,   76 
prolepsis  73,  96 
proselytism     by    the     Roman 

Catholic    party   in    England 

145 
Psyche  121,   122 
Ptolemaic      theory      of      the 

' spheres '   i 23 

Randolph,  Thomas,  50 
repetition  of  a  name  or  word 

in  the  form  of  a  question  a 

favourite  artifice  60 
repetition  of  a  name  to  heighten 

the  pathetic  effect  126 
Rouse,  John,   50 

St  Michael's  Mount,  off  Pen- 
zance,  152 

Salamanders  77 

Saturn   108 

Scriptural  and  classical  associ- 
ations blended  55 

Scudamore,   Lord,   51 

Scylla  74 

Sellenger's  (St  Leger's)  Round 

67 
sense  and  sound,  agreement  of, 

79.88 
Shakespeare,  resemblances  to, 

66,  97,  118,  122 


shearing  feast   144 

Shelley  54,   70,  98,   127 

Sicilian  Muses   147 

Sirens  73 

Sisters,  the  Nine  Muses,    128 

Spenser,  Milton  greatly  in- 
fluenced by,  92 

'Sphere'  always  used  with 
some  reference  to  the  Ptole- 
maic idea  of  ten  spheres  or 
regions  of  space  encircling 
the  Earth  54 

(TTixofxvdLa  75 

Sylphs  77 

Sylvan,  Sylvanus,  75 

Sylvester's  translation  of  Du 
Bartas,  Milton  influenced 
by,   105 

Tennyson,  poetic  tribute  to 
Milton's  memory,  129;  many 
Miltonic  echoes  in  early 
poems   1 30 

Tethys   112 

Thetis,    one   of    the   Nereids, 

Thyrsis,  a  traditional  shepherd 

name,  91 
traverse  99 
Triton   113 

V  for  f  76 

verbal  repetition  71 

Vergil  imitated  131,  138,  139, 

'  vermeil  '    104 

visions  ami  dreams,  distinction 

between,  88 
Vulcan  99 

Will-o'-the-Wisp  86 
Wordsworth,  poetic  tribute  to 

Milton's  memory,    129 
Wotton,  Henry,  49 

zeugma  108 


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