CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY FROM ^4/ 1552 JSs"'" ""'*'*'''''y Library lummmvmw,^'''^''''^'"'" Damonis of Mi 3 1924 013 190 065 Cornell University Library The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31 92401 31 90065 LYCIDAS AND EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS LONDON : PRINTED BY SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE AND PARLIAMENT STREET THE LYCIDAS AND EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS OF MILTON EDITED, WITH NOTES AND INTRODUCTION (INCLUDING A REPRINT OF THE RARE LATIN VERSION OF THE LYCIDAS BY WILLIAM HOGG, 1694), BY C. S. JERRAM, M.A. THIN. COLt.. OXON. avpUrav luevai iiiy' vjrelpoxov hi re voimviriv iv t' &ix.i)r{\pe(r(n Theocr. IdylL rii. 37 SECOND EDITION, REVISED LONDON LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. 1881 Dvyy PREFACE TO THE 5EC0ND EDITION. The Notes to this edition have been carefully revised, and several inaccuracies corrected. In making these improvements I have had the advantage of consulting ProfTMasson's three- volume edition of Milton's Poetical Works (1874) and Prof. Hales' Longer English Poems, which latter work, though published while my first edition was in progress, I had not then seen. One note (on Lycidas 163) has been entirely recast, a mature recon- sideration of the passage having convinced me that the view I had previously taken is untenable." I have only to add, that the favourable opinions I have received, both publicly and privately, from many eminent English authorities induce me to hope that my book, in its emended form, may be welcomed by all students of Milton as a real contribution to this department of our literature. C. S. J. WiNDLESHAM : June 1881. PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. The two following poems have been selected as the only specimens of Pastoral Elegy that Milton has given to the world. Besides the A rcades and the Comus — which are dramatic ' pastorals — they are his sole contribution to a class of poetry which was in his age most fashion- able, and whose influence is apparent in most of his poems, especially those of earlier date. The origin and history of the Pastoral, and its place in European litera- ture, will form the subject of the first part of the follow- ing Introduction, in which I have endeavoured to give such preliminary information as may enable the reader • An attempt was made to dra- ia& Lycidas: matise the Lycidas in a piece en- How well could I have spared for thee titled LycidaSf A Musical Enter- The Swains, who lean and flashy Songs tainment, which appears to have Grate on their Pipes of wretched Straw ! . 'j. J 5 ii- T^u * The sheep look up and are not fed, been performed at the theatre But swoln with the rank Mist they draw. Royal, Covent Garden, in 1767, Rot and the foul contagion spread — It consists of Recitatives and Airs, Not so thy Flocks, O Shepherd dear ; with a couple of Choruses. For Not so thy Songs, O Muse most rare ! the Airs the words of the original For the credit of the play-going are recast in short lines in a lyrical public of the last century it is to be form ; the following is a specimen, hoped that this piece >met with all corresponding to II. 113 foil, of the success it deserved. viii PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. to get some idea of the purpose and character of the Lycidas and the Epitaphium Damonis before entering upon a critical examination of them. With the former of these all Englishmen, who have even a moderate knowledge of the poetry of their own country, are probably more or less familiar ; the latter is perhaps known only by name to many a student of Milton, whose acquaintance with him is confined to the English poems. All such will unite with me in grateful acknow- ledgments to Professor Masson for having rescued this touching elegy from its partial obscurity, by his notice of it as illustrating one of the most affecting passages in the early life of our great poet, and by his admirable translation into English hexameters, which by his kind permission I have been enabled to insert in this volume. And here, while I most gladly admit my many obliga- tions to that eminent biographer of Milton, perhaps it is only fair to myself to say that the idea of including the Epitaphium was conceived by me long before the publi- cation of his second volume. It was added not only because of the similarity of its subject and occasion to those of the Lycidas, but also from a belief that the study of Milton's Latin poetry, considered as a more or less successful imitation of ancient models, would prove eminently useful to those who are far enough advanced in scholarship to be able to translate the classical authors themselves with some degree of ease and fluency. Such a study, by way of occasional exercise, would be no bad training for young scholars in our public schools and elsewhere, if they came to the task furnished with some PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. ix previous knowledge of the matter of the poems, such as the present edition suppHes in the case of the Epitaphium Damonis. Here therefore the notes have been made as concise as possible ; since I thought it unnecessary to dwell upon ordinary points of grammar, except where some unusual or doubtful construction might call for remark, and since I had explained many of the allusions in my previous commentary upon the Lycidas. As the greater number of the references are to Virgil and Theocritus, whose works every scholar is supposed to possess, I have not generally cited the passages in extenso ; but in annotating the Lycidas some discretion has been exercised in this matter. Quotations from Latin, Greek; and sometimes from Italian authors, are mostly given in the original. In a few cases I have attempted a translation, where the point of the reference lay in the matter of the extract, and not in the gram- matical form of expression. In commenting upon both poems, I have tried to state clearly and without reserve the conflicting opinions of former editors upon disputed passages, fairly balancing the evidence and giving what I considered adequate reasons for choosing or rejecting any particular inter- pretation. In one or two instances I have been un- willingly compelled to leave the question doubtful, and in one at least (see note on Lycidas, 163) it was felt necessary to return to an older explanation, in spite of the fact that all recent editors have adopted the new one.' In every case I have aimed at so much conciseness as was compatible with a thorough examination of each ' See, however, Preface to the Second Edition. X PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. point under discussion ; for although I quite agree with Mr. Keightley' that brevity in a note is a thing most desirable, I know that it is highly unsatisfactory to the reader to find a difficulty unexamined or passed over, and to be put off with the ipse dixit of a commentator, when he expects, if not a solution of the matter in dispute, at least an impartial statement of diverse views. Besides supplying what is barely necessary for under- standing the author's meaning, I have sought to give collateral information on points of English grammar and - etymology, illustrated by references and quotations, and also to exhibit from certain lines in the Lycidas (espe- cially //. 113 foil.) Milton's relation to the history and religious opinions of his time. To avoid needlessly encumbering the notes, the bulk of such information has been placed in two Appendices at the end of the poem. Among the various books consulted, I may mention the following : — 1. The editions of Milton's poems by Newton, War- ton, and Todd, chiefly useful for references ; also, Keightley's edition of 1859, and that by Mr. Browne, published in the Clarendon Series, 1870. The respective merits of all these are noticed in the Introduction (pp. 38-9)- 2. Dictionaries of all kinds, English and foreign (in- cluding the latest edition of Johnson by Latham, and Wedgwood's Dictionary of English Etymology, 1872), ' Preface to his Edition of Milton's Poems. PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. xi with other works, such as Earle's Philology of the Eng- lish Tongue, Morris's Outlines of English Accidence, Marsh's Lectures on the English Language, &c. &c. 3. Masson's Life of Milton (to which I have already referred), Hallam's History of Literature, Warton's His- tory of English Poetry, Scott's Critical Essays (1785), and several minor works bearing on the subjects under review. As regards the text and various readings, I am greatly indebted t© the courtesy of Mr. Aldis Wright, of Trinity College, Cambridge, who has been good enough to collate for me the MS. of Lycidas with Todd's list of readings and with the first printed editions, veri- fying all, and amending a few which that editor had incorrectly or insufficiently given. I have also much pleasure in acknowledging my obligations to my friend, the Rev. James Moore, M.A., late Vicar of All Saints, Liverpool, for his careful re- vision of the MS. while it was in progress, for his help in arranging the materials of my Introduction, and for many valuable suggestions throughout the work. Once or twice reference has been made to a certain Epitaph, which (as many readers may remember) was found by Professor Morley written in MS. at the end of a copy of the 1645 edition of Milton's poem.s, preserved in the King's Library of the British Museum. Not wishing to commit myself to an opinion either way upon the authorship of this poem, I have designated it simply as the Miltonic Epitaph. The whole story of its recovery and the arguments on Professor Morley's side of the con- xii PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. troversy are given in his Introduction to The King and, the Commons, published in 1869. At present the question is generally supposed to be settled against the Miltonic authorship, by the decision of those experts who assert that the handwriting is not Milton's, nor the signature J. M. There is at all events no dispute as to the date, which is 1647, and I have merely cited the poem as the work of a contemporary writer, and as undoubtedly ' Miltonic' in style and expression. The Latin paraphrase of the Lycidas, by W. Hogg, is inserted at the suggestion of Mr. F. A. Paley of Cam- bridge, who has recently published a translation of the same poem. In his preface he alludes to Hogg's version of 1694, but regrets that he w£is unable to meet with a copy of it. There is a copy, possibly unique, of this para- phrase in the Library of the British Museum, preserved in a miscellaneous collection of pieces, chiefly of the i8th century. Most of the poems are in English, but one of them is a Latin version of the First Book of the Paradise Lost, by an unknown author, dated 1685. Hogg's translation is preceded by some Latin Elegiacs, In Landem Academice Cantabrigiensis, not worth preserv- ing, with a dedication to the Earl of Mulgrave. There is also an English address 'to the Reader,' explaining the circumstances of King's death, and of the production of the commemoratory verses (see Introduction, p. 2). Part of this address is worth quoting on account of its quaintness. ' Now he [Edward King] was a Person generally beloved in his Life, which made him so much lamented at his Death; which occasioned several Students PREFACE JO THE FIRST EDITION. xiii to pen lamentations on his Death/ among whom was this Milton and Clieveland. I was desired by others to make these two Translations, which was the occasion that I penned them. I was advised to put them in the Press, and that which encouraged me to adventure to do it was hopes that ingenious Gentlemen will communicate tokens of their kindness to me, for at this time my necessity is very great. These Poems will afford a high and innocent Recreation.' A version of Clieveland's elegy is, as the Latin title indicates, included in the volume ; but I have not thought it worth while to reprint this in addition. The English translation of the Epitaphium Damonis, by Dr. Symmons, is to be found in the Life of Milton appended to his edition of the Prose Works (1806). It is a fair specimen of the artificial literary style which prevailed during the i8th centurj'; and it may be inter- esting to some readers to compare it with the version by Professor Masson, for the sake of contrast and variety. ' The italics are mine. WooBcoTE House, Windlesham : May 1874. CONTENTS. PAGE Preface v Introduction i Lycidas 47 Idem Latine redditum a Gulielmo Hog^o . . . loi Epitaphium Damonis log Translated by Dr. Symmons 126 The Same by Professor Masson 134 INTRODUCTION. The occasion which led to the production of the Lycidas is stated in the following heading prefixed to the poem by Milton himself I ' 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 ruin of our corrupted Clergy, then in their height.' This friend was Edward King, son of Sir John King, who was Secretary for Ireland under Elizabeth, James I., and Charles I. He was bom at Boyle, Co. Roscommon ; admitted as a lesser pensioner of Christ's College, Cambridge, at the age of four- teen, with his brother Roger aged sixteen, in 1626, Milton's third year, under the same tutor Chappell {Lye. 36) ; and made Fellow by a royal mandate, dated June 10, 1630 — an honour which Milton himself might well have expected. During his residence at Cambridge he wrote several copies of Greek and Latin verses {Lye. 10) on special occasions, which are of no great merit, and was destined for holy orders {Lye. 113 foil.). It would appear that by his moral worth and gentle bearing he had won the esteem of all his associates, though nothing is known of Milton's relations with, him during their academic career, beyond what we gather from the poem before us. On August 10, 1637, as King was crossing from Chester to Dublin to visit his friends in Ireland (among whom was Chappell, now Dean of Cashel and Provost of Trinity College), the ship struck on a rock off the Welsh coast, and all on board are said to have perished {Lye. 100). Accounts however vary about this, for Todd quotes from a preface by W. Hogg (1694), 2 INTRODUCTION. (whose Latin version of the Lycidas is included in this volume) a statement that ' some escaped in the boat/ and that they vainly tried to get King into it, so that he and the rest were dtowiied, ' except those only who escaped in the boat.' We do not know whence Hogg got this story: the authorised preface to the Cambridge verses of 1638 says, ' Dum alii vec- tores vit» mortalis frustra satagerent,' which seems to imply that they all perished, though ' alii ' (not being ceieri) does not necessarily mean this. The inscription goes on to say that King was in the act of prayer when the ship went down — a fact which could not have been known unless some one had sur- vived to tell the tale. He was then aged twenty-five. , Milton does not mention King's death in either of his letters to Diodati (Sept. 2 and 23, 1637) ; but" later in Michaelmas Term he joined with other friends of the deceased in writing a series of memorial verses. He was then at Horton, where he also wrote the Sonnet to a Nightingale (1633), JJ Allegro and II Pen- seroso, Arcades and Comus (1634). The Lycidas is signed J. M., Nov. 1637 (but the Cambridge verses appeared early in the next year), and was republished with his full name and the title 'Poems on Several Occasions' in 1645, when the heading ' In this monody, &c.' was for the first time added. The whole collection had twenty-three Latin and Greek pieces and thir- teen English, of which Lycidas came last : the first are entitied ' Edvardo King naufrago ab amicis moerentibus, amoris et fiviiag xapLv,' with the motto Si rede calculum ponas, ubique nau- fragitim est. Among other names are Henry King, brother of Edward, and Beaumont of Peterhouse, afterwards better known. The verses are not worth preserving — a ' poetic canaille^ as Professor Masson calls them. The name ' Lycidas ' was a common one with the ancient bucolic poets, but perhaps the Seventh Idyll of Theocritus was especially in Milton's mind when he adopted it. The mon- ody is cast in a form commonly known and designated as the ' pastoral ; ' it is not, however, strictly speaking, a pastoral, but a poem descriptive of college hfe under an allegory drawn from INTRODUCTION. (3) that of shepherds. It is well to make this distiaction at the* outset, in order to have some grounds for defending Milton against the charge of confusion and incongruity which certain critics (and notably Dr. Johnson, in his Lives of the Poets) have laid against him. The exact value of such criticism, as applied to the Lycidas, will be discussed in its proper place ; here it is enough to say that whatever may be the faults of the poem on this score (including the crowning one of all— the introduction of the Christian pastor side by side with the ideal shepherd), confusion of this kind did not begin with Milton, but had been the common practice of his predecessors in a style of composi- tion which had long been degenerating from its primitive state of simplicity, and had how become an allowed medium for expressing opinions upon any sort of subject that might be present in the poet's mind. /A brief review of pastoral poetry in its various stages from the time of Theocritus will best show how this change was brought about. There is no reason for refusing the claims of the Syracusan bard to the honour of having originated this kind of poetry, if only we are careful to distinguish the pastoral of real life, such as the shepherds loved to practise in early times, from the artifi- cial drafts of professed poets who made rural themes a vehicle for their imagination. Among these last we do not know for certain that Theocritus had any predecessors whose names can worthily be coupled with his own. Naeke (Qpuscula Philo- iogica, vol. i. p. 162) draws a good distinction between the old pastoral life and manners, which existed in the first ages of the world, and the artificial description of them which we call 'pastoral poetry.' He maintains that speculations, such as those prefixed to«the Idylls on the origin of the pastoral,' really ' The Scholia on Theocritus (ed. their own fashion ; hence bucolic Ziegler, 1867) say that, after some poetry had its begiiming. Also that civil discord at Syracuse, the citizens they afterwards continued the custom held a festival to Artemis for having and sang for prizes of loaves and brought about a reconciliation, and wallets fiill of seeds and skins of that thi rustics presented offerings vidne, with crowns on their heads, and sang praises to the goddess in and horns on their foreheads, and 4 INTRODUCTION. concern the olden times ; but that the pastoral itself had no proper existence before Theocritus. He takes no notice of any difference between Theocritus and his successors in their method of treatment ; and his remarks seem to imply that the Idylls of Theocritus were no more a picture of facts than Virgil's Ec- logues or the Italian pastorals. It is indeed very hard to say how much in Theocritus is literal fact ; but there is the plainest evidence that his scenes have been drawn from nature and from the shepherd-life of Sicily, and that they are the direct and first-hand presentation of actual shepherds singing of their flocks and of their loves, poetically but not allegori- cally. At the same time, his Idylls bear the trace of Alexan- drian refinement, and of having been written, as Naeke says, ' non ad priscomm hominum ingenium sensumque,' &&, but for those ' qui tsedio capti aliunde imaginem simpHcitatis re- vocare student.' It was only natural that in those early times, when the conditions of human life were simple and uniform, and the shepherd's calling was followed by nearly all classes, the long hours of leisure should have been beguiled by song ; and, as Lucretius • supposes, the whistling of the wind through the reeds might have suggested the first rude shepherd's pipe. Various degrees of skill would engender competition, and for this the rural festivities of Pan or Ceres would afford grand opportunities of display, which is probably the reason why the oldest theories on the subject ascribe the origin of pastoral poetry to such occasions. In course of time the best specimens would become known beyond the original rustic circle, and so professional poets began to adopt a similar mode of expression; crooks in their hands. The above Rhegium to Tyndaris in Sicily, is stated as 'the true account'; whereat the inhabitants sang praises some, however, maintain that pas- to Artemis in their own rustic style, toral poetry arose at Sparta during and thus gave rise to a r^ular the Persian war, at a similar festival custom. of Artemis and in a similar way ; ' ' Et zephyri cava per calamorum while others place its origin as far sibila primum back as the time of Orestes, when Agrestes docuere cavas inflare he returned from Tauri with the cicutas.' — LucR. 5, 1382 foil. image of Artemis and crossed from INTRODUCTION. 5 hence soon arose a distinct school of poetry, in which the poet and his friends are introduced in the dramatic form of shepherds, telling of their flocks and herds, their rustic amours, and the joys of a country life.' But pastoral poetry was not destined to remain long in, this state of uniform simplicity. The real and the dramatic! characters soon became blended into one, and the shepherd 1 was identified with the poet. Even in Theocritus we see the ' beginnings of this very natural confusion, for in the seventh Idyll the swain Simichidas professes his inferiority to Philetas and Asclepiades, actual poets of the day and the instructors of Theocritus, who, in fact, introduces himself under the name of Simichidas ; but this Idyll is the only one which contains per- sonal allusions to the poet, and in which real and imaginary names are intermingled. Passing on to the 'Efftra^toe B/wvoc of Moschus, we find the same phenomenon more apparent ; for there not only is the deceased bard lamented by name in the midst of a highly allegorical passage, and the real cause of his death by poison nakedly stated, but so transparent is the veil of pastoral allegory which disguises the personality of the poet, that Bion is represented as piping to his flocks and milking his goats at the same time that he is compared with Homer, Hesiod, and Pindar, with his own master Theocritus, and even with Moschus himself, in language which expressly intimates that something like a school of bucolic poetry was even thus early establishing itself in Sicily. Whether such an idea ever had any recognised ' existence, or had- reached any degree of ma- turity during the period of 200 years that intervened between Theocritus and Virgil, is a question we have no means of de- ciding ; suffice it to say that in the time of the latter poet the terms ' Sicilian ' and ' Sytacusan ' had come to be used as dis- tinctive literary epithets of pastoral song (Virgil, Ed. iy. i ; • At secura quies et nescia fallere Mugitusque boum tnollesque vita, sub arbore somni Dives opum variarum, at latis Non absunt' — ^ViRG. G. ii. otia fundis .... 467. 6 . INTRODUCTION. vi. i). This fact of itself shows how conventional the method of treating the subject had now become, and also prepares us for what we actually find when we examine the Eclogues of VirgiL The pastoral, which was at first a true and simple inspiration of nature, was already passing into an artificial stage in which it became the mouth-piece of general poetic utterance, and not seldom a mere toy for tiros in verse, ' as young birdes, that be newly crept out of the nest, by littie first prove theyr tender wyngs, before they make a greater flyght.' ' Such a fate indeed it was only too certain to incur when once it had taken its regular place in literature and lost its original simplicity. The poets who adopted the new fashion, though they assumed the character of shepherds, yet failed to attain the true pastoral re- sult, since neither their own incUnation nor surrounding influ- ences favoured a consistent treatment. But in Virgil first of all the unreality and confusion of subject-matter and the general departure from primitive simpHcity begin to be most conspicuous. His Eclogues are close imitations, often literal translations, of Theocritus ; and in them we find the Greek pastoral applied to Roman life, and the scenery of Sicily trans- ferred to the Mantuan district. Also the persistency with which shepherds bearing Greek names talk of Rome and the things of Rome, and adapt not only the pastoral imagery but even the very circumstances of the Idylls of Theocritus to the every-day occupations of Roman Ufe, seems to prove that Virgil not merely recognised the Greek pastoral as the source of his inspiration, but sought to invest Theocritus himself with a Latin dress. And in numerous passages we cannot help see- ing that he has allowed his excessive fondness of imitation to cramp his native originality, and to close his eyes to the open face of nature. At Rome Greek literature was a beau ideal of excellence, and Greek models were accepted as supreme ; so that an aptness for applying the matter no less than the metre ' Spenser, Epistle to Gabriell in his Introduction to Virgil's Bu- Harvey (quoted also by Coningcon celics). , INTRODUCTION. 7 of Greek poetry to Roman uses did not in those days appear to derogate in the least from the character of originality. Nevertheless Virgil, though he lived and breathed so fully in the atmosphere of Greece, and reproduced with such exactness the tastes and impressions he had there imbibed, copied as one who brought with him native insight and vision, and had the power of impressing his own stamp upon much that he had gathered from others. The confusion of the pastoral may be considered as fully developed in the Eclogues, though often- times so perfect is the poet's art, and so exquisite his grace, that we may be led to forget or even to reconcile ourselves to what he has done in this direction. Henceforth pastoral poetry is no more than a particular mode of poetical expression, and has nothing in common with Theocritus beyond its outside' form.' It seems strange indeed that a people like the Romans, claiming descent from a pastoral ancestry and nursed by a regular recurrence of festivals in pastoral recollections, should afterwards have been almost wholly indifferent to the cultivation of this class of poetry ; yet the later Roman bucolic poets, such as Calpurnius and Nemesianus, occupy but a low place among the post- Augustan authors, and need only be mentioned as specimens to show how little regard was paid to the Pastoral for some time after the days of Virgil. Their poetry, which invests political subjects with a pastoral dress, is miserably un- real, and, though obviously Virgilian in its style and aim, is wholly destitute of the master's power and elegance. It may be interesting to notice here in passing an eclogue ( Conflictus Verts et Hiemis, sive Cuculus) by the Venerable Bede, which was one of the few and scattered pastoral reminiscences during the long and dreary period which intervened between the old and the new epochs of literature. From what has been said it appears that there may be two kinds of pastoral — one real and the other allegorical : the first | ' For a fuller and nearly exhaust- critus, see Conington's Introduction ive criticism of Virgil's Eclogues, in to the Bucolics, in vol, i, of his their relation to the Idylls of Theo- edition of Virgil. 8 INTRODUCTION. gives an actual representation of rural life in any country what- ever, such as we partially find in the Idylls of Theocritus, while among our own poets perhaps Ben Jonson, in his Sad si Shepherd, has approached most nearly to this primitive type. The second class is represented by Spenser and his con- temporaries, its object being to disentangle the poet from all local and surrounding associations, and to place him in such a state of ideal freedom as shall afford full scope for his imagina- tion. For this the fiction of some Arcadia, a kind of visionary land, was most suitable, where the poet, in shepherd guise, could adapt to his purpose as much of pastoral life as he saw fit. And although Spenser, in the opening lines of the Faery Queen, gives notice of changing his ' oaten reeds for trumpets stern,' and for ' knights and ladies gentle deeds,' much of the pastoral nevertheless shows itself even here. Whatever the theme might be, it was thrown by the poetical fashion of the time into an imaginary world, and an ideal scene was fitted to it The earliest modem pastorals are Portuguese, ^ in or even before the fourteenth century. They mainly deal with the passion of love in its relation to the ideal felicity of shepherd life. Spain followed in the same course; but the adoption of the fashion by the Italians, whose language was more widely known, started an epoch of great popularity for this kind of composition in Europe. Sannazaro wrote his Arcadia in 1502, and the Piscatory Eclogues^ which are in Latin and very Virgilian, appeared about 1520. Soon afterwards began the regular pastoral drama, of which // Sagrifizio of Beccari, in 1554, was the first specimen. This, as Hallam thinks, may have been suggested by the ' Sicilian Gossips ' (Adaniazusce) of Theocritus, where there is the germ of a dramatic action in the dialogue. George de Montemayor, who, by his Diana, made ' Except the French pastourelles, toral is narrow, Sannazaro tried to which were love dialogues in alter- vary his imagery by depicting the sea nate stanzas and in pastoral cha- and fishermen ; but the sea having racter, less variety than the land, and being ^ Dr. Johnson (Rambler, 1750) less known to the generality of men, observes that, as the range of pas- is therefore less fit for pastoral. INTRODUCTION. 9 this kind of poetry fashionable in Spain, followed Sannazaro, but improved upon him by giving more variety, more passion, more reasoning, and a more connected story. Then followed Lope de Vega with his Arcadia, about the end of the sixteenth century. Towards 1580 came Tasso's Aminta, and in 1585 Guarini's Pastor Fido, containing musical choruses, ' the pro- totypes of the Italian Opera which added recitatives to the choruses.' In 1690 the Society of Arcadians was founded at Florence by Crescentini. They assumed all the accessories of Greek pastoral, and took as their device the pipe of seven reeds bound with laurel ; and their president was designated ' custode generale.' ' Their influence was great in purifying the national taste ; and though the poetry rather lacked power of feeling, its natural imagery and pastoral character have invested it with a charm and beauty which to the imaginative reader is quite , irresistible. From Italy the fashion passed to England about the sixteenth century, when travel led the way to knowledge, and translations began to be made. Though the influence of Italian poetry upon English literature goes back at least to Chaucer, who translated many lines from the Italian, and pro- bably borrowed his Palamon and Arcite and his Troilus from the Theseida and Filostrato of Boccaccio respectively, yet it was not till much later that Italian poets and romances were popu- larly known in avowed translations. Ascham, in his Schokmaster (1589), complains of them as ' carrying the will to vanitie and marring good manners.' Boccace's novels were translated by W. Paynter in 1566, and Burton, in his Anatomy of Melancholy, mentions the reading aloud of them as a winter evening's diversion. A translation of Ariosto's Orlatido Furioso by Harvington appeared in 1590, and one of Tasso's Gerusalemme Liberata, probably by Carew, in 1593. The first English pastorals were Barkley's Eclogues (1514), v chiefly moral and satirical, with little rural scenery. They were ' From HaXiam's History of European Literature, vol. ii. lo INTRODUCTION. modelled on Petrarch's XII. Eclogues (1350), which were the first modem Latin bucolics, and on Mantuan (1402). And these modern Latin pastorals became so much admired that a collection of thirty-eight of them was printed at Basel in 1546. Mantuan was read and taught as a classic : see Shaksp., Lovis Labour Lost, iv. 2, where Holofemes quotes a line of his and says, ' Old Mantuan ! old Mantuan ! who understandeth thee not loves thee not.' In 1563 came Googe's Eglogs,^ Epitaphs, atid Sonnets, and this abundance of pastorals is probably trace- able to the fascination of the Italian poets. Spenser's Eclogue Liecember is a literal rendering from the French of CMment Marot. (Warton's Hist, of English Poetry, and Critique on the Faery Queen.) In the Elizabethan age pastoral poetry was a popular delight. Bishop Hall, Prologue to Satires, 1597, exclaims — Would ye but breathe within a wax-bound quill, Pan's sevenfold pipe, some plaintive pastoral ; and in his first satire he complains that he cannot Under everie bank and everie tree Speak rimes unto mine oaten minstrelsie. In his History of English Poetry Warton remarks : ' This fami- liarity with the pagan story was owing to the numerous English versions of them. Translations occupied every pen, and acquired a general notoriety. Learned allusions were no longer obscure * to common readers; but their extravagances ' Petrarch introduced the form afterwards given to the poems which y^glogue for Eclogue, imagining the Virgil himself called by the de- word to be derived from a7| (turiii), scriptive name Bucolica. 'a goat,' and to mean 'the con- " The chief translations of the versation of goatherds.' But, as dassics after 1550 are Virgil's Dr. Johnson observes in his Life of j^jieid, by Phaier (1558) ; by Stani- A. Philips, it could only mean ' the hurst (1583) ; the Culex, by Spenser talk of ^oa/j.' Such a compound, (1591) ; Ovii's Metamorpkosa, by however, could not even exist, as it Golding (1565) ; Epistles, by Tur- would be 0170-^07(0, if anything. berville (1567) ; Tmrio, by Church- Ecloga {4K-\ayai) of course mean yard (1580); Horace's Epistles and simply Selected Pieces, a name Satires, by Drant (1567) ; Homer INTRODUCTION. ii, were imitated, and not their naturalbeauties.' Again : ' When the queen paraded through a country town, almost every pageant was a pantheon. When she paid a visit at the house of any of her nobility, on entering the hall she was saluted by the PenateSj and conducted to her privy chamber by Mercury. . . . At dinner select transformations of Ovid's Meta- morphoses were exhibited in confectionery. . . . When she condescended to walk in the garden, the lake was covered with Tritons and Nereids ; the pages of the family were con- verted into wood nymphs, who peeped from every bower, and the footmen gambolled over the lawns in the figure of satyrs.' . . . When her majesty hunted in the park, she was met by Diana, who, pronouncing our royal prude to be the brightest paragon of unspotted chastity, invited her to groves free from the intrusions of Actseon. ... In one of the fulsome interludes at court, the singing boys of her chapel pre- sented the story of the three rival goddesses on Mount Ida, to which her majesty was ingeniously added as a fourth ; , and Paris was arraigned in form for adjudging the golden apple to Venus, which was due to the queen alone.' (Warton's Hist, of Eng. Poetry, ed. 1824, vol. iv. p. 323.) Besides the classics and the ItaUan tales, Gothic romance still held its ground. ' Giants, dragons, and enchanted castles,| borrowed from the magic storehouse of Boiardo, Ariosto, and Tasso, began to be employed by the epic muse. The Gothic and pagan fictions were blended and incorporated ' {ib.) ; and we find in Sidney's Arcadia an application of the Italian pas- toral to feudal manners, and so fashionable did pastoral | writings soon become that the language of courtiers with all its false and tawdry finery was put into the mouths of simple shepherds. Spenser, whose ShephearcFs Calendar (1579) is the ' masterpiece of all pastorals in that age, brought his treatment nearer to the truth of nature ; yet the Doric rusticity of the dia- by Chapman (1604-14). Queen ' See account of the pageant at Elizabeth herself translated Seneca's Kenilworth in Scott's novel of that Hercules CEtaus. name. 12 INTRODUCTION. logue is somewhat repulsive to modem ears ; and this, which was native to Theocritus, is borrowed, not always ' correctly, by his English imitator. In 1590 appeared Sidney's Arcadia, one of the most beau- tiful efforts of English fancy in that age — not exactly a pastoral, since it has far less to do with shepheids than with courtiers and knights, though the idea might have been suggested by the popularity of the Dia/ta of Montemayor, to which allusion has been already made. In the preface of his edition of the Ar- cadia (1867) Mr. Friswell says : ' The scene is laid in a fabulous and semi-pagan Greece, where young people wander in woods, kill lions and bears, fall in love, believe in Christianity and heathen gods, wear armour like the Tudor knights, and fight with Helots and Lacedaemonians, in a most confiising way.' It would now, perhaps, be thought very tedious, but it is less pedantic than most books of that time, and its popularity was great in the days of Shakspere and for years afterwards (Hallam, vol. ii. p. 216). Early in the seventeenth century appeared the Faithful Shepherdess of Fletcher (the forerunner of Comus), Browne's Britannids Pastorals (1613), also well known to Milton, and the Sad Shepherd of Jonson. Touching the influence of Spenser on succeeding poetry. Professor Masson (vol. i. p. 410 foil.) remarks that about 1630 there was ' a distinct Spenserian School,' partly of professed and partly of unconscious disciples. As the poetry of Spenser is ' as nearly poetry in its essence as any that ever was,' a resem- blance to him was thought a warrant of poetic quality. This is seen in Chapman, Jonson, Drayton, and others, Shakspere being an exception, sui generis, and of no school. But there were also those who purposely studied Spenser, made him their avowed model, and cultivated his forms of poetry — the pastoral and the descriptive allegory ; and among these W. Browne and Giles and Phineas Fletcher stand most prominent. ' For the mistakes which Spenser by Skeat on the two concluding has made as to the meaning of some eclogues of the ShepheartTs Calendar. of the old words he uses, see notes INTRODUCTION. 13 Browne's Brit Pastorals (1613-1616) are cast very closely in pastoral form, and are a story of shepherds amid scenes of English country life, full of luxuriant natural descriptions, with only an occasional flight to higher subjects. Spenser is acknow- ledged several times by name, but traces of other poets (especially of Du Bartas ') may be discerned. The Shep- heris Pipe, of seven eclogues (1614), is a simpler poem, and one of equal skill. Of Giles Fletcher there only remains Chrisfs Victory over Death (1610), which is very Spenserian. Phineas Fletcher's two great poems are the Piscatory Eclogues, where fishermen take the place of shepherds, and the Purple Island, a poem describing the anatomy of the human body under an image indicated by that name. Both were published at Cambridge soon after 1632. The old criticisms on what the pastoral ought to be may be 1 divided into two classes, each of which failed, though in a dif- ) ferent way, of hitting the mark. Those who insisted upon a 1 * golden age,' simple manners, mean sentiments, and the like, ( confused the pastoral of real life, which had long ceased to exist (if it ever did exist after Theocritus), with the changed artificial growth which had sprung out of it. Those on the other hand who avoided this particular mistake, but forbade I all allusions to politics or religion as foreign to the nature of the pastoral, forgot that all pastoral poets after Virgil's time had admitted such allusions, and by so doing had, as it were, legal- ised them ; and these same critics fell into the totally distinct error of allowing too wide a definition of this sort of poetry, as if any rural poem whatever were ipso facto a pastoral. Having briefly drawn this distinction, let us now examine by way of ' Sylvester translated the Divine days or cantos. The Second Week Weeks and Works of Du Bartas in contains the Bible history as far as 1605, which was very popular till the Kings and Chronicles, also 1650, but afterwards ceased to be divided into days, each correspond- read. When Milton was a boy, ing to an epoch and headed with a everybody was reading' it. The first name (Adam, Noah, &c.). Four part of the poem is called ' The days are complete j the rest are un- First Week,' or 'Birth of the finished. World,' and it is divided into seven H INTRODUCTION. illustration a few of the opinions of successive critics, remarking upon them as we proceed. In the Preface to John Fletcher's Faithful Shepherdess we read : ' A pastoral is a representative of shepherds and shep- herdesses with their actions and passions, which must be such as may agree with their natures ; at least, not exceeding former pictures and vulgar traditions. They are not to be adorned with any art but such as nature is said to bestow, such as singing and poetry, or such as experience may teach them, as the virtues of herbs, &c.' Again, Drayton, in his Preface to the Pastorals, observes : ' The subject of pastoral, as the language of it, ought to be poor, silly, and of the coarsest woof in appearance, yet the highest and noblest matters of the world may be shadowed forth in them. The chief law of pastoral is decorum, and that not to be exceeded without leave, or, at least, fair warning.' Pope, in the Introduction to his Pastorals (1704), gives a rksumk of the opinions of preceding critics, the chief of which are that ' Pastoral is an image of the golden age,' so that ideal and not actual shepherds have to be described. The principal points to be observed are ' simplicity, brevity, and delicacy.' ' The fable simple, the manners not too polite nor too rustic, the thoughts plain — the expression humble, yet as pure as the language will afford, neat but not florid, easy yet lively.' The joyous side of shepherd life and not the miseries should be shown. The Eclogues should be various, each having its own particular beauties. In the Guardian (1713) pastoral poetry is spoken of as describing a state of early innocence and joy, ' where plenty begot pleasure, and pleasure begot singing, and singing begot poetry, and poetry begot pleasure again.' Sim- plicity must be pourtrayed, but troubles should be concealed, except such small annoyances as merely set off the general happiness of the state. The shepherds need not, however, be ' dull and stupid ;' they may have 'good sense and even wit, provided it be not too gallant and refined ;' but they must not ' make deep reflections,' which are to be left to the reader. The reasons why we are pleased with pastoral are threefold INTRODUCTION. 15 ' love of ease,' ' approbation of innocence and simplicity,' and ' love of the country ; ' and all these are natural to man. Theo- critus is the great master of pastoral ; Virgil sacrifices simplicity to nobleness and sublimity, and some of his Eclogues are not properly pastorals at all. The Italians are ' fond of surprising conceits and far-fetched imaginations,' as is shown in Tasso's Aminta and Guarini's Pastor Fido. ' The French are so far from thinking abstrusely that they often seem not to think at all ; ' ' they fall into the manner of their country, which is gallantry,' and the dresses and manners of their shepherds are like those of a court and ball-room. The English have too servilely copied the Greek and Roman pastorals ; Spenser and A. Philips have succeeded best, since they have 'not only copied but improved the beauties of the ancients.' The manner of the ancients should be followed, but deviations as to climate, customs, and the soil and its products, are to be recommended. The theology of the Pagan pastoral may be retained, where 'universally known; and all else should be made up of our own rustical superstition of fairies, goblins, &c. — since no man can be delighted with the imitation of what he is ignorant of On April 27, 1713 (Guardian, No. 40), appeared a mock comparison of Philips's with Pope's Pastorals, really written by Pope himself, in which he gave the palm of superiority to his own poems under pre- tence of preferring those of his rival. The whole production is ironical, and it ends by asserting of Pope's Pastorals that ' they are by no means pastorals, but something better.' Here we ( must not omit to notice Gay's burlesque pastorals, entitled the Shepherd's Week, both because many of his remarks, though ironically uttered, really bear on the matter before us, and because there has been from time to time so much ludicrous misconception as to their object and character. We make the following extracts from the Proeme to the Shepherd's Week, which appeared in 17 14: 'Great marvel hath it been that in this our island of Britain no poet hath hit on the right simple eclogue after the true ancient guise of Theocritus before this mine attempt . . . My love to my country much pricketh me i6 INTRODUCTION. forward to describe aright the manners of our own honest ploughmen ; albeit not ignorant am I what a rout and rabble- ment of critical gallimawfry hath been made by certain young men concerning I wist not what Golden Age and other out- rageous conceits to which they would confine pastoral. This idle trumpery unto that ancient Doric shepherd Theocritus was never known. It is therefore my purpose to set forth before thee a picture of thy own country. . . . Thou wilt not find mv shepherdesses idly piping on oaten reeds, but milking the kine, tying up the sheaves, &c. Spenser I must acknow- ledge a bard of sweetest memorial ; yet hath his shepherd's boy at times raised his rustic reed to rhjrmes more rumbling than rural. Diverse grave points hath he also handled of churchly matter, to great clerks only appertaining. His names [are] indeed right simple and meet for the country (Lobbin, Cuddy, &c.), some of which I have made bold to borrow. . . . The language of my shepherds is such as is neither spoken by the country maiden nor the courtly dame, having too much of the country to be fit for the court, too much of the court to be fit for the country. . . . But here again much comfort ariseth in me from the hopes that some lover of simplicity shall arise who shall render these mine eclogues into such more modem dialect as shall be then understood.' ' In the pieces which follow, Gay's object was to ridicule pas- toral itself by presenting a homely and often coarse picture of rustic life as a set-off against the ' golden age ' view we have mentioned ; and in doing so he claims simply to be going back to Theocritus, the fountain-head of all bucolic poetry, who was himself faithful to nature. Nor can it be denied that Gay ' Dr. Johnson [Life of Gay) says tation of obsolete language. But that Pope ' is supposed to have the effect of reality and truth be- incited Gay to write the Shepherd's came conspicuous, even when the Week, to show that, if it be neces- intention was to show them grovels sary, to copy nature with minute- ling and degraded. These Pastorals ness, rural life must be exhibited became popular, and were read with such as grossness and ignorance have delight by those who had no interest made it. The Pastorals are intro- in the rivalry of the poets, nor duced by a Proeme, written in imi- knowledge of the critical dispute.' INTRODUCTION. 17 does in this respect present us with a superficial copy of his alleged model in almost everything but the ridiculous names (Blowselinda, Bowsybaeus, &c.) he gives to some of his charac- ters, which are not at all after the style of those adopted by Theocritus. How then is it that Gay's pastorals are on the whole an evident burlesque, while those of Theocritus are as evidently real ?• It cannot be merely a question of coarseness as contrasted with refinement, for there are indecencies in some of the Idylls to which no parallel can be found in the Sh^- kerd's Week. As a poet of course Theocritus has the ad- vantage ; but this does not make all the differeface between them. The solution seems to be in some way as fol- lows. Both poets described actual facts of rural life and in homely language ; but the kind of rural life Theocritus had to describe was very different from that which came under the notice of Gay. ' Thou wilt not find my shepherdesses idly piping on oaten reeds, but milking the kine, tying sheaves,' &c. Just so ; but the shepherds of Theocritus did pipe as well as milk and bind sheaves ; and if they had not piped, or if no shepherds had ever done so, the production which we call Pastoral Poetry would never have existed. This does not con- sist merely in a description of rustic manners.' To us it is purelyartificial, and has been so in all countries ever since Virgil's time ; but to Theocritus and his contemporaries it was a reality — 3, substantially correct reproduction of the doings, feelings, occupations, and utterances of the Sicilian shepherds — and afterwards but too often an ungainly mimicry of what once had ' From not observing this fact, From Truth and Nature shall we Crabbe made the genuine mistake widely stray embodied in the following lines from Where Virgil, not where Fancy, his poem The Village (1783) : — leads the way ? ' On Mincio's banks in Cesar's Yes, thus the Muses sing of happy bounteous reign, swams, If Tityrus found the golden age Because the Muses never knew their agam. pains Must sleepy bards the flattering By such examples taught I paint dreams prolong, ^^ 1°' .„ . . , . . Mechanic echoes of the Mantuan As Truth will pamt it, and as bards Bong ? will not.' i8 INTRODUCTION. life and reality. The shepherd's pipe, which was at first real, became afterwards a sham ; and the poetry met with much the same fate. Owing to the nature of its climate and its manners, England is not a country in which shepherds could practise piping and singing like the Dorian swains ; and perhaps neither the genius nor the language of the EngUsh race would ever have fostered anything like the true ancient pastoral amongst us.' Of those critics, who fell into the error of identifying the pastoral with rural poetry in general, Dr. Johnson may be fairly taken as the representative. In the Rambler he remarks, j ' The true definition of a pastoral is a poem in which any action I or passion is represented by its effects upon a country life, and I has nothing peculiar but its confinement to rural imagery, with- 'jout which it ceases to be pastoral.' Hence he thinks those Writers are wrong who insist upon a golden age, meanness of sentiment and language, and confinement to persons of low rank.^ Still the interest should be centred in rural life, and therefore should not contain allusions to the Church or State, or ' lamentations on the death of some illustrious person, whom when once the poet has called a shepherd he has no longer any labour upon his hands, but can make the lilies wither and the sheep hang their heads, without any art or learning, genius or study.' On the misconception involved in refusing to admit political allusions into the pastoral we have already remarked (p. 13) ; that there is the essence of truth in the last quoted sentence {nimus the .sarcasm) every reader will allow. We will close this part of our subject by citing a still more sarcastic ' ' In England every poet who mangled dialect which no human has tried to play on the Doric pipe being could' ever have spoken," and has sounded a false note. There is quotes the opening of the gth nothing in our damp island atmo- Eclogue, — sphere, or in our own character, to < T>Kggtia. Davie ! I bidde her god favour that easy, contented, grass- daye ■ hopper life which still marks the Or Diggonheris, orImissaye,'&c. peoples of the SiOMtb.' —Quarterly ^^ ' ' ' . Kcjiew July 1873. — which Pope aifected to admire in 2 He instances ' the Dorick' of l^'s ironical essay in the Guardian, Spenser's Shepheard's Calendar, ' a ^°- 4°- INTRODUCTION. 19 utterance of the same critic, in his life of A. Philips (1781), which nevertheless gives us a perfectly true account of the reasons why the writing of pastorals became so fashionable. 'At the revival of learning in Italy, it was soon discovered that a dialogue of imaginary swains might be composed with little difficulty; because the conversation of shepherds excludes profound or refined sentiment, and for images and descriptions satyrs, fauns, &c., were always within call ; and woods, rivers, &c., supplied variety of matter, which having a natural power to soothe the mind did not quickly cloy it.' Add to this the well- known charms of the country and its associations, and the relief which these afford from the turmoils of life, to the imagination at least, if not always in reality, and we shall cease to wonder at the vitality of a species of composition which held its ground for so many centuries, though it has now, perhaps for ever, passed away. Hence it will appear that even if Lycidas were a formally ■, cast Pastoral, ample license by precedents would be allowed for the method in which Milton has treated his subject. We are now in a position to consider a few of the criticisms which have been passed upon the poem itself. That of Dr. Johnson in his Lives of the Poets is the best known and the ^ost unfavourable of all. In his Life of Milton he writes :-pThe diction is harsh, the rhymes uncertain, and the. numbers un- pleasing not the effusion of real passion, which runs not after remote allusions and obscure opinions. Where there is leisure for fiction there is little grief No nature, for there is no truth; no art, for there is nothing new. Its form is pastoral, easy, vulgar, and therefore disgusting When Cowley tells Hervey that they studied together, it is easy to suppose how much he rnust miss the companion of his labours; but what image of tenderness can be excited by these lines : " We drove afield, &c."? Though the representation may be allegorical, the true meaning is so uncertain and remote that it is never sought, because it cannot be known c 2 20 INTRODUCTION. when it is found. Among the flocks, &c., appear the heathen deities, Jove, &c. He who thus grieves will excite no sym- pathy ; he who thus praises will confer no honour.' Again — ' With these trifling fictions are mingled the most awful and sacred truths The shepherd is now a feeder of sheep, and afterwards a superintendent of a Christian flock — an approach to impiety of which, however, I believe the writer not to have been conscious No man could have fancied that he read Lycidas with pleasure had he not known the author.' It should in the first place be understood that in Milton's day Enghsh poetry had not been brought under the kind of criticism to which it has since been sub- ^ jected, and that therefore we must view the Lycidas in relation to its age. But whatever incongruities a harsh and prosaic test may elicit, other critics even of Dr. Johnson's own time have held very different opinions respecting the melody, ten- derness, and grandeur of this charming poem.' Thyer (17 81;) \ I ''observes that ' what gives the greatest grace to the whole poem ' is the natural and agreeable wildness and irregularity which \ \ runs through it, than which nothing could be better suited to ' express the affection which Milton had for his friend. Grief is eloquent, but not formal.' Hurd, though he sees ' no extra- ordinary wildness and irregularity in the conduct of this little poem,' remarks, ' There is a very original air in it, owing not to disorder in the plan, but to the variety of the metre. Milton's ear was a good second to his imagination.' On Johnson's com- parison of Lycidas with Cowley's Elegy, Scott (Critical Essays, 1785) says, * Cowley speaks of Hervey in propria persona; Milton is pro tern, a rustic poet.' Hence the images of the one are drawn from the study, those of the other from the field. ' Whatever pathos there is in either results from the recollection of friendship terminated by death.' The comparison of Milton with Cowley is about as unfortunate as any that could have ' See collection of criticisms in touching the alleged insincerity of \ the editions of Warton and Todd. Milton's sorrow is given further on I The an5.wer of Professor Masson (p, 30). INTRODUCTION. 21 been made, either as regards true feeling or true poetry. The reader may judge for himself by contrasting the following extract from the elegy on the Death of. Hervey with any corre- sponding passage in Lycidas he may choose to select : — •Ye fields of Cambridge, our dear Cambridge, say, Have ye not seen us walking every day ? Was there a tree about, which did not know The love betwixt us two ? Hencf forth, ye gentle trees, for ever fade^ Or your sad branches thicker join, And into darksome shades combine. Dark as the grave wherein my friend is laid. Or again — Wondrous young man, why wert thou made so good To be snatched hence, ere better understood? &c. &c. But enough of this. We know that Dn Johnson had no genuine appreciation of poetry ; yet his shrewd intelligence and the soundness of his judgment on most literary points might have enabled him to write a fairer critique of Milton's early poems, had not the marked opposition of his religious and political principles to those of our author prejudiced his mind against the man, and thus prevented his forming an impartial estimate of ^&poet, even where the conflict of their respective opinions was not concerned. Hallam notes it as remarkable that Johnson had before 'selected Virgil's loth Eclogue for peculiar praise, which belongs to the same class of allegory and requires the same sacrifice of reasoning.' As to the second objection, it may be urged that though Milton has brought together in the same poem heathen and Christian images, he has not grouped them confusedly together, nor united them in action, but. dealt with them in proper succession. The passage which treats of the corruption of the clergy in Lycidas is as copipletely isolated as that about the Syrian shepherdess in the Epitaph on tfie Marchioness of Winchester. So in the Nativity Hymn the epithet ' Great Pan ' is applied to the new-bom child, I 22 INTRODUCTION. just as our Lord is spoken of as ' Pan,' in Spenser's sth and 7 th eclogues — the sense in which the early Church loved to express such words as those of St. John x. li, when on the , walls of the catacombs the first Christians pictured the Good I Shepherd. The mingling of sacred and profane allusions; appears in a more glaring form in such passages as Spenser,; F. Q. I. X. 53, where Mount Sinai and the Mount of Olivesl are placed with Mount Parnassus ; or in Surrey's Translation ■ of ^neid IV., where we have ' holy water stocks ' in Dido's temple, and ' nun ' commonly used of a pagan priestess (cf. Drayton, Eel. 5, ' Diana's nuns ') ; and Shakspere's Midsummer Night's Dream, i. i, where 'nun' and 'cloister' are mentioned along with Diana, Venus, &c. ' Church ' is used of heathen temples (cf. Acts xix. 37), e.g. 'Church of Jove' in Marlowe's Lucan,^zxA 'Church of Pallas' in Chaucer, who also calls Amphiaraus, priest of Apollo, a ' bishop.' It is therefore unfair to say that Milton is alone and conspicuous in these irregulari- ties. The early Italian poetry also affords frequent instances of the intrusion of strictures on the clergy ; the introduction of St. Peter in company with Triton and Neptune reminds us of Dante's making Cato Uticensis porter of Purgatory, and the excuse which has been offered for the one poet may fairly enough be urged for the other — ' Per veritk fe un gran capriccio, ma in cib segue suo stile.' ' The Lycidas may therefore be described as an allegoric pastoral representina; College life and friendship , and is cast mamly in the form of Greek and Latin pastorals, though the scenery is transferred to the British ijgles. Nowhere is the student brought in as such ; nor is the pastoral disguise ever fdropped, except i n the digression up ogL Fame and in the isolated passage about the cler^ wher e another kind of shepherd ap- pears upon the scene. Virgil's 10th Eclogue is in most points similar, even including those few lines (44-!^) in which he describes Gallus as an actual soldier of the camp in Italy. ' See Neve's Cursory Remarks on some English Poets (1789). INTRODUCTION. %3 There is really the same confusion in Lyeidas, though its cir- cumstances are not quite so incongruous. Lyeidas, as a shep- herd, had no more to do with a shipwreck than Gallus, as a shepherd, with the army ; but in the former instance the pastoral fiction passes more easily into the actual circumstances of King's death than in the case of Gallus. The allegory proper extends only to King's life and to Milton's connection with him, while the catastrophe is given as it actually occurred. So in Virgil Lycoris is not represented as an actual shepherdess, but is supposed to have literally gone away to the Alps with a rival. What gives Milton more license in his treatment is the fact that Lyeidas is not an avowed pastoral, forming one of a series of the same kind ; whereas Virgil's loth Eclogue does occur in such a connexion and cannot well be separated from the rest. Virgil was ostensibly engaged in pastoral compositions and introduced the story of Gallus among them ; Milton how- ever not being previously thus occupied, but starting with a desire to celebrate his lost friend's memory, availed himself of a form of poetry which was at the time most in vogue. The opening lines ' show that Milton had not meant to write verse again until he had attained the full maturity of that poetic power which he had long felt within him ; yet the tribute due to his • deceased friend overcame this resolution, and thus the expres- sion of his grief is the pervading thought of the whole. It may even be that the fact of King's having been intended for holy orders was the starting point whence sprang those well-known lines on the English clergy which eventually became the most significant part of the poem, and the heading added in 1645 is an express intimation that Milton intended to give special' prominence to lines which were originally suggested by his im- mediate subject, and in fact only came in by way of digression. There are two such digressions in Lyeidas (see notes on //. 85 and 132) — one on Fame, the other on the corruptions of the clergy. Touching the first, the consideration of a Ufe ' See note on ' Once more,' /. i. 24 INTRODUCTION. of youthful promise, so suddenly cut short, leads to the reflec- tion that after all there may be no use in human labour and striving after fame ; but he turns from all this to the lofty truth, that the power of faultless discernment and the final meed of fame are in the hands of an all-wise and supreme Judge. Here Milton has lighted upon a grand fact of humanity which cannot be better expressed than in the words of a recent writer in the Contemporary Review (April 1872): — 'The desire for fame is the craving to be judged fairly ... an universal instinct of mankind. Man has a right to a just judgment, which is to be welcomed as a privilege. . . . Real reputation is the reflection of the gloiy of God upon the lives of men ; but when men feel they are not appreciated, they make their appeal to another life, and claim to stand before the eternal judgment- seat.' The second digression is probably his first definite expression of feeling on Church matters, not as yet decidedly anti-episco- ■ palian. He simply laments the state of things existing ; but it was not till 1641 that he directly ascribed it to the influence of prelacy {Reason of Church Government). The papists ceased to be troublesome after the death of Mary of Scotland (1587), and the defeat of the Spanish Armada (1588); but now the ultra-Protestant party ' began to desire an advanced reformation, having already (1563) attacked the vestments and ceremonies of the Reformed Church. Episcopacy was denounced on the ground of not being expressly ordered in Scripture, while government by elders was held to be divinely appointed.^ In 1 593 an Act was passed against Romanists and Puritans equally, for non-acceptance of the Liturgy was made equivalent to •• Walton (Life of Hooker') notices to the government and especially to three parties then in England : 'the the bishops.' active Romanists, the restless Non- ' On this point see remarks of conformists, and the passive, peace- Mr, M. Arnold, in the Comkill able Protestants.' The first lost Magazine for Feb. 1870, on the power after the death of Mary ; and difference between the Puritan theory the second he chaises with ' an innate and that of the Established Churches restless pride and malice — opposition upon Church Govenunent INTRODUCTION. 25 disloyalty. This identification by statute soon led to some disaffection, though in Elizabeth's reign the political side of Puritanism did not strongly appear, as all parties felt that their ' strength was bound up with the safety of her person and her throne.' But the character of James I. secured no such esteem ; and the Puritans began to assume a more decided antagonism, both political and religious. The Hampton Court Conference (1604) was on the whole unfavourable to their party ; the doctrine of the divine right of kings was gratifying to James, and the two maxims — Le roy s'avisera, and No bishop, no king— -went together. The Millenary Petition was rejected, and the 141 Canons " enforced conformity with great rigour. The ' King's Letters ' of 1623, for restraining extravagant preaching on both sides, fell perhaps more heavily on the Puri- tans, with whom a lengthy exposition of doctrine was a sine qua nofi, than on the Prelatists who made this a matter of less vital importance, and who were, moreover, content that cate- chising on the Sunday afternoons should take the place of sermons (see note on /. 125-^. Charles I. (1625) united the pretensions of absolute monarchy with those of a powerful hierarchy, and thus Crown and Church were opposed ,to People and Puritans. Church and State questions were more closely related than ever ; and the influence, first of Bucking- ham, and then of Strafford and Laud, tended to the same result. The Star Chamber and High Commission Courts went hand in hand ; and the resistance of Hampden to an unjust impost was almost coincident with the outcry against the new Liturgy in Scotland. On March 10, 1629, Charles dissolved the parliament, and seemed intent on ruling without one. Now the struggle began in earnest. For some time there had been ' an anti-Calvinistic spirit in the English Church, which was now spreading among the younger clergy ' (see Masson's Life of ' See Macaulay, Hist, of England, nods, Episcopacy, Established Order vol. I. ch. i. of Services, and condemn all im- ' The Canons assert Royal Su- pugners of Church order and disci- premacy, Authority of Church Sy- pline as hereby established. 26 INTRODUCTION. Milton, i. p. 309, and also the account of the consecration of St. Katharine Cree Church in Fuller). Laud was Bishop of London, and virtually Primate ; the death of Buckingham had given him paramount influence with the king, and the patron- age of Church benefices was largely in his hands. He was a man of small intellect, but of great tenacity of purpose ; and 'his nature if not great was very tight' (Masson, i. p. 361). All his views centred in divine right of bishops and uniformity in the Church; and he was of opinion that 'unity cannot long continue in the Church when uniformity is shut out at the church-door ' (Laud's Diary). In 1633 the period of ' Thorough ' began ; Wentworth ruled despotically in Ireland, Laud was made Primate, great strictness of Church discipline was enforced, and Prynne was imprisoned for his Histriomas- tix. In 1637 Prynne, Burton, and Bastwick were pilloried, the question of ship-money was decided against Hampden (June 12), a placard designating Laud 'the arch-wolf of Can- terbury ' was posted at Cheapside,' and Williams, Bishop of Lincoln, a friend of the Puritans, was imprisoned (July 11) for alleged libel. On July 23 a tumult arose in Edinburgh about the New Liturgy, which lasted for many weeks, and issued finally in the signing of the New Covenant (Feb. 28 or March i, 1638). Then the Scotch bishops were deposed, and the Covenanters prepared for war. As to Milton's own religious sentiments, we know that from his father he inherited strict Puritan principles, yet accompanied with refined aesthetic tastes. His early surroundings were Puritan, and Richard Stock, ' a zealous Puritan,' was pastor of ihe parish in which he lived. The time of his birth (1608) was that in which the Puritan party was gaining strength, though still in the minority. His early training was under his father (cf. Epist. ad Patrem), who doubtless exercised much influence upon his opinions. Next he was under the care of Young, a Puritan minister {Ep. Fam. i. El. 4), and afterwards at St ' See beginning of Appendix II. INTRODUCTION. 27 Paul's School, under the two Gills {Ep. Fam. 2, 3, 5). His reading was very wide, including, besides the classics, French, Italian, Hebrew, and the mass of English literature then exist- ing.' His early versions of Psalms cxiv. and cxxxvi. show extensive reading. In February 1625 he entered Cambridge, where there was a strong Puritan element, Dr. Preston of Emanuel being the leader. Christ's College was less impreg- nated with these principles, and Chappell himself was in Laud's interest, who afterwards made him Bishop of Cork. The Latin elegies on Bishops Andrewes and Felton (1626) show that Milton was not then an anti-Prelatist, and the Ods z'/; Ouintum Novembris of the same year is laudatory of the 'pious James. In 1627 his Elegy to Young, who had fled to Hamburg probably because of his non-conformity, expresses affection tor him and sympathy with his doctrines. In July 1628 he writes to A. Gill, deploring the ignorance of the clergy ; and in the same year he wrote the Academic Prolusion on ' the compatibility of sportive exercise with the study of philosophy' (Masson, i. p. 250 foil.), which contains specimens of outrageous license and even of coarse obscenity, for which, however, he apologises on the ground of long-standing custom. He there designates the students generally as 'calf-heads,' 'rams,' ' Irish birds,' &c. &c., and by other titles quite unmentionable ; all which shows that he could at times throw off his habitual seriousness. The general idea we gather of Milton's University life is that he was serious and earnest, reading with unusual vigour, but, being thrown among companions for the most part uncongenial, he had little affection for the place. ^ In the Apol. Smect. (1642) ' The chief authors Milton pro- Greene, Marlowe, Shakspere, Hey- bably read are — Chaucer (ending wood, Ben Jonson, Beaumont and 1400), Lydgate, Ascham, Skelton, Fletcher, Massinget and Ford. Surrey, W^tt, &c. (1400-1580) ; » See ist Elegy (to Diodati) : and the Elizabethans (1580-1625) 'Quam male Phoebicolis convenit Sidney, Hooker, Raleigh, Bacon, ille locus ; ' also in his letter to Gill Spenser, Sackville, Daniel, Dray- (1624) he writes: 'Atque ego pro- ton, Chapman, Sylvester's i)u fecto cum nullos fere studiorum con- Bartas, Donne, Davies, the two sortes hie rejicriam, Londinum recta Fletchers, Wither, Carew, Browne, respicerem, nisi per justitium hoc 28 INTRODUCTION. he says of the University — ' In the time of her better health and mine own younger judgment I never greatly admired (her), so now much less.' In 1629 he took his B.A., and subscribed the Articles (a ceremony which he repeated in 1632 on taking his M.A.); and in the same year he wrote his 6th Elegy to Diodati, in praise of wine and mirth, though he says that the higher poesy demands pure life and spare living. The Nativity Ode contains a decided opinion in favour of Church music, and thfs is ex- pressed again in the ode At a Solemn Musick and towards the end of the Penseroso ; but in the later treatise on Christian Doctrine, bk. ii. c. 4, he inveighs against all external worship, quoting Amos vi. 5, ' Woe to them... that chaunt to the sound of the viol,' &c. In a letter to a friend, December 163 1, inclosing the 7th sonnet, he declares his unwillingness to take holy orders, chiefly on the ground of unfitness ; but in the Reason of Church Government (1641) he stated his objections more clearly thus — ' I thought it better to prefer a blameless silence before the sacred office of speaking, bought and begun with servitude and forswearing;' L Allegro and // JPenseroso, written in or near 1632, are both far from Puritanical — the one being a joyous outburst of mirtli and fancy, free from the least sensuous taint, and the other expressing the melancholy of a studious mood without sourness or austerity. The Masques of Arcades and Comus (1634) represent a kind of anlusement which he after- wards, in his Free Commonwealth, disapproved because of its licentiousness. But Comus is itself a protest against this very thing, and thereby, instead of inveighing at the immorality of the stage after the usual Puritanical manner, he showed practi- cally how to turn such things to good account. By birth and education tlien Milton was in every respect a Puritan, notwithstanding his classical learning and his genuine aestivum {the Long Vacation) in tarem, et quasi claustris musarum otium alte literarium recedere cogi- delitescere.' (See note on /. 34.) INTRODUCTION. 29 love for the beautiful. He was a man of few convictions, but these were strong and lasting, the uppermost feeling of his mind being that a ceaseless and determined struggle must be maintained against the evil that is in the world. In both his prose and his poetry liberty stands forth as the ideal ; and this yearning after freedom fostered in him a resolute dislike of that religious and civil formality, which had displaced the healthy and genial life of the preceding Elizabethan times. Moreover the impulse of an indwelling poetic life, and an exalted idea of human duties and responsibilities, ' as ever underneath the great Taskmaster's eye,' would often bear him beyond the narrow range of party conflict. His mission was to be a poet first, and a / statesman or theologian afterwards. He had also a power of foresight and of self-discipline, which imparted a kind of set ' purpose to all his works, and caused an absence of those ' strains of unpremeditated art,' which he was himself foremost to appreciate in Shakspere.' All along he seems to have con- sciously nursed his inborn powers, unwilling before the full growth of his genius to begin the lofty poetic task of which he felt himself capable, ' though of highest hope and hardest attempting.' It may be that the self-consciousness of the student ever accompanying the poet in Milton has produced an artificial semblance in some of his poetry which may reasonably lead to the question — ' Hmv fnr is Tycidas nn ■s^tpressinn nf ^exmr\p sorrow?* liTreply to Dr. Johnson's coarse criticism, that it is ' not the effusion of real passion, which runs not after remote allusions and obscure opinions,' that 'where there is leisure for fiction there is little grief,' that ' there is no nature, for there is no truth,' and that ' no image of tenderness can be excited by the lines "we drove afield,"' &c. — the opinions of some other critics have already been quoted,* to which may be added ' VAilegro, 133 — Warble his native wood-notes •And sweetest Shakspere, Fancy's wild.' child, ' See p. 20. 30 INTRODUCTION. Hallam's remark (Hist, of Eng. Lit. vol. iii. p. 46), that ' it has been said fairly that ,Lycidas is a good test of real feeling in I poetry.' But no better or more comprehensive answer could I be given than the following, which we take the liberty "6t quoting from Masson's Life of Milton, voiwji p. 84 : It is 'a finer monument to the memory of King — to let the fact of his death originate a whole mood of the poet's mind — than if he had merely registered the fact in a \jnc of direct regret _ So poets honour the dead : they let his image intertwine itself with all else that arises in their minds ; and out of the best choosing still the best, they lay that on the tomb, saying, " This belongs X.Q you.^" ^ Yet Dr. Johnson, notwithstanding his prejudice, forgot certain facts which he might with a little ingenuity have pressed into his service. First, we know npdiing whatever of Milton's relations with Edward King, except what we gather from this poem. There is no mention of any kind of associa- tion between them during their college career. Secondly, we do know that King gained the fellowship over Milton's head ; and thirdly, Milton does not notice King's death to Diodati, though writing only a month afterwards. As to the disappoint- ment about the fellowship, we have no right to suppose that it led to any coldness between the two friends, and it would not have been like Milton to allow this. The first and third points are purely negative, so that after all we must look to the [ Lycidas to speak for itself. The mere form of the poem can prove nothing against the genuineness of Milton's regret, for grief, like all deep feeling, will reflect the tendency or mental habit of the patient. Thus Cicero philosophised grief when his daughter died; and Marmontel, the dramatist, wrote the play of Penelope on the death of his child ; to which we may add the example of our own poet laureate in his exquisite In ' Of the Lycidas it may be truly are shed with artistic precision and said (to use the language of one of griefs meted out in strict accordance our public journals), that it is not to with the canons of the schools.' — be classed among ' the coldly- correct Daily Telegraph, on death of Charles Jeremiads, in which at the grave of Dickens, June 20, 1870. academical renown rhetorical tears INTRODUCTION. 31 Memoriam. It was, therefore, only natural that Milton should give vent to his grief in verse, and in that kind of verse which was then most usual on such occasions. But we must be care- ful lest the pathos and intrinsic beauty of much of 'the poem should leadua- ir"> an exaggerated idea of the extent of his sorrow. We may safely conclude with Professor Masson that' King was really a friend, but not the friend of his youth. For both. the evidence of Milton's correspondence with Diodati, and the intense and passionate grief of some portions of the Epitaphium Damonis, prove that he and not King was deepest in his affections. Yet the elegy in which he laments the loss of Diodati is a pastoral, cast in a form more artificial than even the Lycidas, and written not in English but in Latin. We will now proceed to give some account of this other poem. The subject of it, Charles Diodati (see the Argument), was bom in 1608, and was therefore about the same age as Milton. His father, Theodore Diodati, was an Italian by descent, but married an English lady of'good fortune, and was appointed physician to Prince Henry and the Princess Elizabeth, afterwards Queen of Bohemia : his uncle, Giovanni Diodati, was the author of the Italian translation of the Bible, known by his name. He formed a close intimacy with Milton at St. Paul's School, which he left in 1621 for Trinity College, Oxford, where Alexander Gill, son of the head-master of St. Paul's, had also been educated. The friendship between the two young men con- tinued throughout their university career, though they could only meet in London during the vacations, and correspond by letters at other times. Two of Diodati's epistles are extant, written in Greek, probably in 1625 and 1626, and bearing the headings QioaluTu^ MiXrwvi tixjupaiveaOai and x^V"" respect- ively. The first name is, of course, a literal rendering of the Italian Dio-dati, 'God-given' (see note on Epit. Dam. 210). To this letter Milton appears to have replied ih the elegiac poem which stands first in the collection entitled Elegiarum Liber, the third line of which shows that his friend was then residing in Cheshire, somewhere on the banks of the Dee. 32 INTRODUCTION. From the heading prefixed to the 6th elegy of the same series we learn that Diodati had on Dec. ,15, 1629, sent Milton a copy of verses, describing the Christmas festivities he was then enjoying, and pleading these by way of excuse if his poetry were found to be ' less good than usual ' (' sua carmina excusari postulasset, si solito minus essent bona '). Milton's answer is that conviviality and poetry, ' Bacchus and the Muse,' are not hostile to one another, but go well in company ; only that he who would sing of high and holy themes, ' of heaven and pious heroes and leaders half divine' — he must live soberly and severely, with chaste morals and stainless hands. The elegy concludes with a mention of the Hymn on Christ's Nativity, upon which the poet was at that time engaged, and which he promises to submit to his friend for criticism (see on Epit. Dam. 180). After this we have no more direct information about Diodati until Sept. 2, 1637, when Milton addressed to him a Latin epistle, complaining of his long silence, and expressing a hope that they might shortly meet in London. From this and the following letter (dated Sept 23 of the Same year) we gather that Diodati was now in full medical practice, probably in Cheshire, — ' among the Hyperboreans,' as Milton jocosely terms the natives of those parts, — that he made occasional journeys for visiting and recreation, and that he had a regular lodging in town, where Milton once expected to find him, but was disappointed. Part of the second letter will presently be quoted (in translation) in the note on /. 150 oi Xht Epitaphium ; and towards the end of it Milton intimates his intention of taking chambers in one of the Inns of Court for the purpose of study ; but this plan appears to have been abandoned in favour of the continental tour which took place early in the following year (Masson, vol. i. p. 601). It was during this journey (in the summer or autumn of 1638) that Diodati died suddenly. The place and circumstances of his death are alike uncertain ; but we know that the sad news did not reach Milton till some time afterwards, as the third Italian sonnet (beginning Diodati^ INTRODUCTION. 33 e ie 'I dirh con maraviglia) must have been addressed to his friend from Italy about, or more probably after, the actual time of his decease (ib. p. 775). Prof. Masson argues very plausibly that Milton heard the tidings first from John DiodMi, Theological Professor at Geneva, with whom he was staying in June 1639, on his way back to England. But however this may have been, we are sure that grief for the loss of so dear a friend possessed the poet's mind to the temporary exclusion even of those political anxieties which had been the cause of his sudden return. Of this we have evidence not only in the Epitaphium Damonis itself, which, notwithstanding its artificial form and its pastoral conceits, is as true an outburst of the bitterest sorrow as anything of the kind we know, but also in / Milton's own words forming part of a letter in 1647 to Carlo/ Dati, one of his former friends at Florence (Epit. Dam. 13 7). I After recalhng the recollection of their former intimacy, and assuring Dati of his continued affection, he suddenly refers to the memory of the deceased Diodati, and to the grief he had felt at his death, which only the thought of the unmixed joy he had tasted in the society of his Florentine companions could in any way alleviate. We give the extract : — ' Testor ilium mihi semper sacrum et solenne fiiturum Damonis tumulum, in cujus funere ornando cum luctu et moerore oppressus, ad ea quae potui solatia confugere cupiebam, non aliud mihi quicquam jucundius occurrit quam vestrum omnium gratissimam mihi memoriam revocasse. Id quod ipse jamdiu legisse debes, siquidem ad vos illud carmen pervenit, quod ex te nunc primum audio.' The ' carmen ' referred to is in fact the Epitaphinvi Damonis, a copy of which Milton had sent to Dati as a token of his regard, on account of his name being mentioned therein (137 1. c). Of the poem itself we have already spoken incidentally in our observations on the Lycidas, and much of what has been said pf the one applies with equal force to the other. It is, however, more of a direct and avowed pastoral, and was evi- dently Suggested by the 'En-trd^wc B/idi'os of MoScnus, whence its 34 INTRODUCTION. title is taken. We have had occasion to mention and partly to examine that poem as a specimen of Greek pastoral (see p. 5), , and we then noticed how the real circumstances of the life and death of Bion appear from time to time through the veil of allegory under which the poet has chosen to disguise his per- sonality. The same fact is observable in several passages of (Milton's Epitaphium, in which the poet's actual self is blended with the character of the ideal Thyrsis, and the person of the real Diodati with that of the shepherd Damon. Nor is this surprising ; the image of his lost friend was too vividly im- pressed upon Milton's soul, and his grief (like that of Moschus foi" Bion) too sincere to allow him to sustain with absolute con- tinuity his assumed disguise, which, be it remembered, he had adopted merely in deference to the then prevailing fashion, and would not, even on purely critical grounds, have felt himself bound to keep with undeviating precision. Yet he never allows this liberty to degenerate into a license : the strain of the poem is pastoral throughout — far more so than in the case of the Lycidas, whose variations and digressions have already been discussed in detail. It is this very freedom of treatment which gives the Epitaphium Damonis its real value and interest, claim- ing for it recognition as a record of one period in the life of a great and distinguished man, about which we should otherwise have had but scanty information. The following remarks by Warton, in answer to some rather disparaging criticism of Dr. Johnson on this poem, are very much to the point : ' The pas- toral form is a fault of the poet's times.' The poem ' contains some passages which wander far beyond the bounds of buco- hck song, and are in his own original style of the more subUme poetry. Milton cannot be a shepherd long. His native powers often break forth, and cannot bear the assumed disguise;' We subjoin a list of those passages, in which the pastoral allegory is for the moment abandoned. In /. 13, Thyrsis is described as sojourning Tusca in urbe, i.e. at Florence, where Milton was actually staying at the time for literary purposes — ' aniroi causa ' as the Argument expresses INTRODUCTION. 35 it. As a shepherd he would have no business there, so far away from home and for such an object. LI. 46-49 may be applied either way, but seem to convey the idea of a student's rather than of a shepherd's fireside. The ' Attic salt ' of /. 56 admits of only one application. U. 113 folL describe Milton's actual journey to Italy, which has nothing to do with his assumed pastoral character. (Com- pare the parallel instance of Callus, in Virgil's loth Eclogue, see p. 23 of this Introduction.) In //. 126-138 the accidental circumstance of Diodati's Tuscan origin is mentioned in the middle of an imaginary description of Tuscan swains, among whom the actual names of Dati and Francini occur, not under a classical designation (like Lycidas and Menalcas, /. 132), but just slightly Latin- ised. LI. 162-178. Here the poet is confused with the shepherd — the intention of the real Milton to write a real British epic being stated partly in plain language, partly under a pastoral figure (168-171). L. 181. The name of Manso, Milton's Neapolitan host, is introduced with scarcely any disguise, and the description of the chased goblets which follows, though probably real (see note ad loc), is at any rate not drawn from the circumstances of bucolic life. LI. 209-219. The pastoral imagery now entirely disap- ^ pears ; the name Diodatus is substituted for that of Damon, I and his present state of bliss among the saints in heaven is described in Scriptural language, which is in the last line curiously varied by a Pagan but not distinctively pastoral metaphor — ' bacchantur ' — ' orgia ' — ' thyrso.' The scene is laid in England, as appears from the mention of the Chelmer (/. 90 note) and of the Colne (/. 149), but the associations are necessarily classical, owing to the form in which the poem is cast. Those who adopt what we have endeavoured to represent as the right view of the requirements of a modern pastoral will not blame Milton for this, but will transfer their D 2 36 INTRODUCTION. censure to the Roman poet, who by blending Sicilian with Italian scenery originated the confusion. Still the introduction of lions and wolves in //. 41, 42 would better have been avoided, though a similar mistake is made by Virgil in his 5 th Eclogue (/. 26) without equal excuse for it The Epitaphium Damonis has been rendered into English by Symmons (about 1804) in the Life of Milton appended to his edition of the Prose Works ; also by Langhome (1760), as far as /. 138 ; and again by Cowper. A new translation into English hexameters is given by Professor Masson, in the second volume of his Life of Milton, which, by the courtesy of the author, I am enabled to reprint entire. Of detached pieces of criticism on the Lyddas the follow- ing are given by Todd in his edition of Milton's poetical works : — 1. Peck's Explanatory and Critical Notes, &=(., printed with his JVm' Memoirs of Milton (1740). 2. Remarks in Dr. Johnson^ Lives of tJie Poets (life of Milton) (1781). 3. Critical Essay on Lyddas by John Scott (1785). 4. Cursory Ranarks on some ancient English Poets, particularly Milton, by P. Neve (1789). To theSe we need only add the complete account and examination of this poem and the Epitaphium Damonis in vols. i. and ii. of Professor Masson's Life of Milton (1859 and 1871). The Lycidas was translated into I^tin by William Hogg (Hogaeus) in 1694, and into Greek by Plumptre, Canon of Worcester, in 1797. Both these translations have been made use of in the notes to this edition ; the former is reprinted at the end of the volume. As might be expected, the poem has found many imitators. The first 'imitations, or rather open plagiarisms from Milton' (as Warton says), were made in 1647 by Robert Baron in a poetical romance, entitled the Cyprian Academy (see Todd, Appendix to vol. vi.). Into this he transferred whole lines and phrases ftom nearly all Milton's early poems, then lately INTRODUCTION. 37 published ; and from Lycidas was borrowed the greater part of the floral description in //. 135-151. Samuel Boyse, in his Vision of Patience (1741), laments the death of a Mr. Gumming, lost at sea, under the name ' Lycidas,' but does not otherwise imitate Milton's monody. In 1760 Robert Lloyd published the Tears and Triumph of Parnassus, containing an ode on the death of the king (George II.), in which occur the lines we have quoted on /. 75, beginning, 'Where were the Muses,' &c. In the same note reference is made to a similar passage from Lord Lyttleton's monody on the death of his wife. Michael Bruce, in Daphnis (a monody on Mr. Arnot), has these lines : — So may I snatch his lays, who to the lyre Wailed his lost Lycidas by wood and rill, &c. ; and further on — Where were the Muses, when the leaden hand Of death remorseless closed your Daphnis' eyes ? Fair was thy thread of life. But quickly by the envious sisters shorn j So Daphnis died, long ere his prime he fell. Nor left he on these plains a peer behind. The metre is arranged in long and short Knes at irregular intervals, like those in the Lycidas. We may also notice a monody on the death of Queen Adelaide by Julian Fane, among the Cambridge Prize Poems for 1850, which is closely modelled (as the heading intimates) upon that of Milton. A few extracts are subjoined as examples of the imitation : — For she no more upon the dawning day Listening their joyous lay, Shall bend her wistful eyes for ever closed .... Where were ye nymphs upon that fatal mom ? . . . . Alas, what boots it to enquire your place "i For what could ye have done f . . . . Last reverend Camus, as he footed slow, &c. Besides these and more of the same kind, we have detached 38 INTRODUCTION. expressions undique decerpta, such as ' melt with ruth,' ' but not the wise,' &c. (speaking of Care tormenting the great and proud), 'hence with the blazing clarion of renown' (cf. Lye. i8, and for the sentiment 76 foil.), &c. The monody ends with an apotheosis of the queen which nearly resembles that of Lycidas — ' Cease, Albion, cease to weep,' ' She shall arise,' &c., ' Now Albion weeps no more,' &a The latest reminiscence appears in the London Lyrics by Mr. Locker (1872): — And still the woodland rings, and still The old Damoetas listens — speaking of the youthful glow of life as compared to a laughing leaping rill. Among the various editions of Milton's poems, which in- clude the Lycidas, we select the following : 1. The Cambridge Verses of 1638, already referred to (p. 2). The English poems succeed the Latin, and are sepa- rately entitled Obsequies to the Memorie of Mr. Edward King, Anno Domini 1638.' The Lycidas is dated J. M., November 1637, in the MS. preserved in the library of Trinity College, Cambridge. It has no title in this first edition. 2. Poems of Mr. John Milton, both English and Latin, composed at several times, collected and republished in 1645. Here the heading, ' In this Monody,' &c., is for the first time prefixed. 3. Poems, GfC, upon several Oaasions (1673, the year before Milton died). This is a reprint of the former, with some addi- tions, and containing the Hardib Tractate on Education. 4. Successive editions for Tonson (1695-1747). 5. Baskerville's Poetical Works of Milton (1758-1760). 6. Newton's editions (1752-1790). Of these Keightley observes in his own preface that they are ' the first English instance of a Variorum edition, from MS. notes by Jortin, Warburton, Thyer, Peck, Sympson, &c. Very respectable for those times, when criticism was imperfect, and knowledge of earlier English literature and language slender.' INTRODUCTION. 39 7. Warton's editions of the smaller poems, except the Paradise Regained, with notes (1785 and 1791). 8. Hayley's Poetical Works of Milton (i 794-1 797). 9. Todd's Poetical Works, cs^c, with the Principal Notes of various Com?nentators (3801, 1809, 1826). Here the sub- stance of Warton's notes is reproduced, with many additions by the editor; they consist of a mass of materials, for the most part undigested and ill-arranged, and are chiefly useful for their collection of parallel passages, though these (as Masson truly remarks, vol. i. p. 534) ' are pushed to the verge of the ridicu- lous — interesting only as illustrations of similarity of thought and expression among poets of a particular age.' 10. Keightley's Poetical Works, &c. (1859). The poems are arranged chronologically, the spelling is modernised, except in the case of a few words, such as ' sovran,' ' highth,' &c., and the punctuation carefully amended. There are no introduc- tions to the separate pieces, the references in the notes are given with the initials of those editors who first observed them, though many of these, as Keightley tells us in his preface, were noticed by himself independently. For the notes he claims the especial merit of terseness and compression, and con- sequently fails to give us the arguments on both sides in many disputed passages, presenting merely his own conclusions or those of others, without examination in detail, and often with- out any reasons whatever. 11. English Poems by yohn Milton, edited by R. C. Browne, King's College, London (1870). This edition comprises much useful information within a small space, but does not profess to enter upon a detailed investigation of mooted points. The introduction has a great deal of original matter, well con- sidered and clearly expressed. The editor frequently adopts the conclusions of Mr. Keightley, to whom he specially acknow- ledges his obligation in a short preface prefixed to the notes. A new and complete edition of Milton is promised by Pro- fessor Masson, and is expected shortly to appear.* ' See Preface to Second Edition. 40 INTRODUCTION. The original MS. of Lycidas (together with those of the Arcades, Comics, and some of the minor poems) is preserved in the library of Trin. Coll., Cambridge. These were collected by Charles Mason and Thomas Clark, Fellows of Trinity, in 1 736, having been found among MSS. formerly given to the College by Sir H. Newton Puckering, who was educated there, and who died in 1 700 (Masson, vol. ii. p. 104). From them Todd, in 1801 collected his various readings in the three poems above mentioned ; but as his copy of them is not quite accurate, we append the following corrected Hst : — /. 10. 'Who would not sing for Lycidas? he weWknevr.' 22. ' To bid faire peace,' &c. {To erased and And substituted.) 26. Glimmering corrected to opening. 30. 'Oft till the ev"!! starre bright,' (altered to that rose in Eifning bright.") 31. 'his burnisht weele,' (altered to westring weele.) 47. 'Their gay buttons weare.' (beare is then written and erased, and ivardrope weare substituted.) 51. 'yor (/o«r erased) lov'd Lycidas.' 58. ' What could the golden-hayrd Calliope For her inchaunting son. When shee beheld {the godsfarre sighted bee) His goarie scalpe rowle downe the Thracian lee! After /. 59 is written in the margin — ' Whome universal nature might lament. And heaven and hel deplore, When his divine head downe the streame was sent' {Head is first altered to visage, and then divine to goarie^ 69. ' Hid in the tangles,' (changed to Or with, &c.) 85. ' . . . . thou smooth flood,' (altered to famd, and then to honoured.) ' .S'(2/?-sliding Mincius,' (altered to smooth- sliding.) 105. ' ScrauVd ore with figures dim,' (changed to Inwrought^ no. ' Tow massy keys,' &c. (also ' ^flw-handed ' in /. 130.) 114. ' Anough of such,' &c. 129. '. . . . little seA.' («o/^z'«g is first written, but erased.) 138. '. . . . stintly (.') looks.' (First sparely, which is erased and then replaced.) INTRODUCTION. 41 The first correction is obscured by the tail of the / in the superscribed sparely coming down in front of the first letter (which may be either / or /). Mr. Aldis Wright, to whose courtesy I am indebted for these amended readings, believes the word to be faintly and not stintly. I. 139. '.Swzg- hither,' &c., (corrected to Throw hither, &c.) 142 foil, originally stood thus : — ' Bring the rathe primrose that unwedded dies, Colouring the pale cheeke of uninjoyd love. And that sadflmire 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 wtl> jet, The glowing violet.' Afterwards Milton inserted the garish columbine, but altered it to the well attir' d woodbine. ' The cowslip wan that hangs his pensive head. And every bud that sorrows liverie weares.' (First changed to sad escutcheon beares, then to im- broidrie, and beares to weares^ ' Let Daffadillies fiUe thire cups with teares, Bid Amaranthus all his beautie shed.' (These two lines were transposed, and the let was altered to and^ The whole of the above passage is struck through with the pen, and the substituted hues are written below. /. 153. ' Let our sad thoughts,' &c., (changed to fraile.) 154. '. . . . Yejloods,' &c., {cYangtA to shoars.) 160. '. . . . Corineus old.' (^e//^r«j substituted.) 176. 'Z/j/£«/»^ the unexpressive nuptial song,' (altered to and heares, &c.) The unsettled state of orthography ' in Milton's time makes ' In an article on English ortho- that it was settled by those who graphy in the Philological Museum, were more or less ignorant of the the writer remarks that the uniform antecedents of our language,, and System now in vogue came in about maintained by compositors, by whose the middle of the 17th century ; influence certain modes of spelling 42 INTRODUCTION. it unnecessary to notice in detail the varieties of spelling which occur in various editions of this poem. We shall presently (on /. 129) remark upon sed and blew (I. 192) as illustrating the habit of writing to suit the eye as well as the ear ; in /. 130 doore is changed to dore in the MS. to coincide with more in the next line. For those who are curious in such matters we ap- pend a few selected words from the four editions of 1638, 1645, 1673, and 1695 (Tonson's), from which it will be seen that in many instances the earlier ones had the modem ortho- graphy, which afterwards got altered ; but this is purely acci- dental. 1638 1645 1673 1695 /. 37 gone gon gon gon 47 wardrobe wardrop wardrop wardrobe S3 lie ly ly ly 57 been bin bin bin 82 perfect witnesse perfet witnes perfet witnes perfect witness 112 mitred miter'd miter'd miter'd 114 enough anow anow anow 128 wolf woolf woolf woolf 129 said sed sed sed 140 turf terf terf •terf 'Zs oazie locks oozy Lock's oozy Lock's oozy Locks 'f5 perillous perilous perilous perillous 186 oaks Okes Okes Okes 192 blew blew blew blew '. In Milton's MS. the preterites and past participles in -ed are almost uniformly spelt with the apostrophe, as destirid, kotiour^d, &c. ; even mttre'd is thus given, where no vowel is omitted. Honied seems to be the only instance in Lycidas to the contrary. The forms in -/ are sometimes with and sometimes without the apostrophe, as nurs't, dandt, &c., by the became established as the general usage. He further observes that no usage can make a blunder right, and that the right spelling is that which agrees best with pronunciation, ety- mology, and the analogy of a word to others of the same d^ss to which it belongs. INTRODUCTION. 43 side of askt, freakt, &c. It should be noted that the use cf the apostrophe began nearly about Milton's time, and continued to be usual till quite lately. Spenser very seldom employs it ; he generally omits the e altogether, as joyd, doyd, &c., some- times placing it at the end, as spide, obeyde,&ic. After k, n, p, s, &c., the letter i is used, as pluckt, learnt, topt, tost, pusht, some of which forms are still to be met with. Originally, as in Chaucer, whenever -ed was written, it was meant to be sounded ; hence arose these various contrivances to show when it was mute. Lycidas is the last poem, excepting the Sonnets, which Milton wrote in rime. In the preface, added in 1668 to Paradise Lost, he speaks of ' rime ' as being nothing but ' the invention of a barbarous age to set off wretched matter and lame metre,' and congratulates himself upon having in that poem set the first example in English ' of ancient liberty re- covered to heroic poem from the troublesome and modem bondage of riming.' Yet the skilful arrangement of rimes in Lycidas, and the exquisite cadences which his fine musical ear enabled him to produce, without rule and apparently without effort, are an evidence of how much may be done by means of an expedient which he afterwards so unsparingly denounced ; and there is perhaps no poem which exhibits these qualities in equal profusion. The idea of the system, in which the rimes occur sometimes alternately, but more often at longer and irregular intervals, the ten-syllabled lines being now and then varied by shorter ones of six syllables, is derived from the Italians. The following extracts from choruses in Tasso's Aminta and Guarini's Pastor Fido will show what the originals were like, but it will be seen that Milton has made considerable variarions upon his models. I. From Aminta, Act iv. Scene 2 : — Cio che morte rallenta, Amor, restringi, Amico tu di pace, ella di guerra ; 44 INTRODUCTION. E del suo trionfar trionfi e regni, / E mentre due bell' alme annodi e cingi, Cosl rendi sembiante al ciel la terra, Che d' abitarla tu non fuggi o sdegni. Non son vie Ik su ; gli umani ingegni Tu placidi ne rendi, e 1' odio intemo Sgombri, signor, da' mansueti cori, Sgombri mille furori, E quasi fai col tuo valor superno Delle cose mortali un giro etemo. 2. From Pastor Fido, Act iv. Scene 9 : — O bella eta dell' oro, Quand' ^ra cibo il latte Del pargoletto mondo, e culla il bosco E i c^ri pirti loro 1 Godean le gregge intatte, 1 Nfe temea '1 mondo ancor ferro nfe tosco. ■ Pensier torbido e fosco Allt^ non facea velo Al sol di liKe eterna Or \i ragidn, che verna Tra le nubi del seinso, ha chiuso il cielo. Ond' 6'^ che '1 peregrfno Va 1' altrui terra, e '1 mar turb£mdo il pino. Peck, in his New Memoirs of Milton (1740), fancifully com- pares the Lycidas to a piece of music, consisting of so many bars, which are represented by the paragraphs; each rime being a chord, and the lines without any answering rime being discords. He cites the Pindaric odes of Cowley as examples of similar irregularity in riming, only that in these there are no discords or lines without rimes. The distinction between ' chords ' and ' discords ' (as if they were two different things in music) is of course erroneous ; but, substituting phrases for ' bars ' and concords for ' chords ' in the above comparison, we may allow that the effect upon the ear of an occasional unrimed INTRODUCTION. 4S line bears some analogy to that produced by an unresolved discord in harmony. Nevertheless so artistic is the whole metrical arrangement of this charming monody that the sensa- tions experienced by the most fastidious reader can never be otherwise than agreeable, and to the judgment of such we con- fidently leave the decision of the question, whether (as Dr. Johnson will have it) ' the diction is harsh, the rhymes uncer- tain, and the numbers unpleasing.' LYCIDAS. Yet once more, O ye laurels, and once more Ye myrtles brown, with ivy never sere, I] ' Onoe more, amid my various occupations, do I return to poetry, that I may offer a tribute to the memory of my deceased friend.' ' It seems better to understand the allu- sion thus than to restrict it (as Peck and Newton have done) to ' poems on like occasions' with that of the Lycidas, such as the Ode on the Death of a Fair Infant, the Epi- taph on the Marchioness of Win- chester, and the four I^atin Elegies of 1626. Since the production of Cotnus in 1634, the poet's pen had been unemployed, and we know from his letter to Diodati of Sept. 23, 1637, that he was now study- ing ancient and mediaeval history, in preparation for his Italian tour, lyhich took place in the following spring. Warton properly observes that the plants specified in this and the next line are not peculiar to elegy, but 'symbolical of general poetry.' As evergreens they are also emblems of immortality, which is perhaps the teading idea intended to be conveyed. Cf. Drayton, 6th Pastoral Eclogice : — ' Nor mournful cypress nor sad widowing yew About thy tomb to prosper shall be seen : But hay and myrtle, which is ever new, In spight of winter flourishing and green.' There seems to be no sufficient ground for the distinction which Newton draws between the laurel, myrtle, and ivy, as representing the poetic talent of the deceased, his ripeness for love, and his learning (Hor. Od. I. i. 29) respectively. IJrayton, however, in his 3rd Ec- logue, speaks pf 'bays that poets do adorn, And myrtle of chaste lovere worn.' 2 brown] dark and sombre (It. bruruj) ; ' the pulla myrtus of Hor. Od. I. XXV. 18. ivy never sere] Cf. Sylves- ter, Du Bartas, 70, ' immortal bays never unleaved.' Sere (O. E. seir, verb sedrian) occurs only twice elsewhere in Milton, P. L. x. 1071 and Psalm ii. 27. Cf. Macbeth, V. 3, ' the sear the yellow leaf ; ' Spenser, Eel. i. 37, 'My lustfuU leaf is dry and sere,' where it is explained in the Glossary as an antiquated word, like guerdon, fqr- lom, and others, , which have now returned into use. Newton's state- ment that ' there are more obsolete words in this than in any other of 48 LYCIDAS. I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude, i And with forced fingers rude Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year. Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear, Milton's poems ' may well be dis- puted. (See note on /. 189.) 3-8] Those who imagine an allu- sion to the untimely death of Mr. King in the premature gathering of the laurels, &c. , seem to overlook the fact that these plants represent, not the lost friend, but the verses offered to l)is memory. The meta- phor by which an early death is compared to the plucking of unripe fruit (as in Cic. De Senectute, ' Quasi poma ex arboribus,' &c., quoted by Dunster) has therefore no applica- tion here, the reference being ob- viously to the poet's efforts in verse, which were, in his own opinion, yet ' harsh and crude,' but whose time of maturity a pious duty compelled him to forestall. Six years pre- viously, in the Sonnet written at the age of twenty-three, he had expressed his resolution not to hasten the time of his 'inward ripeness;' and in the accompanying letter he says, 'I take no thought of being late, so it give advantage to be more fit.' 4 forced] i.e. unwilling, as ex- plained in //. 6, 7- 5] Cf P. L. X. 1066. Shatter is a modem softening of scatter, like shave and scab, sharp and scarp, &c. mellowing] {mollis) would strictly apply to fruit, not to leaves or flowers. But the sense probably is, ' before the advancing year, which ripens the fruit, causes your leaves to fall.' Keightley remarks that ' these plants all shed their leaves during the year, but gradually. ' Cf. Marlowe, Taniburlaine, ii, I, ' And fall like mellowed fruit with shakes of death.' 6] Plumptre's translation (1797), iro9iiv6p, probably gives the right sense of this line, i.e. an occasion sad in itself, but concerned about a dear object (Spens. F. Q. I. i. 53). But dear may mean 'important,' from its primary sense of 'costly' (O. E. deifre, G. theuer), an inter- pretation which is slightly favoured by the occurrence of the word with the same meaning and connexion in Sidney's Arcadia, where Time is addressed as ' the father of occasion deare.' Hence arose the peculiar use of ' dear ' in a sense apparently contradictory to its usual one, as in Shakspere's 'dearest foe,' 'dear peril,' &c., which is to be explained, not (as Home Tooke supposes) from derian, ' to hurt,' but by a natural transition from the original notion of importance into that of strong interest or emotion, whether of love or hatred* (See Dyce's Glossary to Shakspere, pp. 119, 120.) The position of the noun betweep the two epithets is very conamon in Milton. Out of numberless in- stances which occur, Peck quotes P. L. V. 3, ' temperate vapours bland;' ix. 1003, 'mortal sin ori- ginal.' Cf. also /. ^ supra. Arcades, 49, 51, to which may be added 'the two-topt mount divine' of the supposed Miltonic Epitaph — an ex- pression which Dean Stanley in his letter to Prof Morley (Introd. to King and Commons, p. xxxii.) pro- nounced to be 'Milton all over.' This order of words is imitated from the Greek (cf Hes. Theog. 811, X<^Ak6os ouS^sacrTe/i^^s ; Eur. Pheen. 234, vi^6$oKoi> Spot lp6v). InLatm the adjectives are usually placed to- gether, either with a conjunction, as ' Fatalis incestus^? judex,' Hor, Od. LYCIDAS. 49 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 III. iii. 19, or without one, as 'do- musexilis Plutonia,' Hor. Od. I. iv. 17.; 'suavis daedala tellus,' Lucr. i. 7. 7 compels] instead of compel, the ' bitter constraint' and ' sad occa- sion' being" so nearly identical as to form one idea. Cf Hor. Od. I. xvii. 12, 'dis pietas mea £t musa cotdi est! But, even without any such connexion of meaning, the Elizabethan writers and their imme- diate successors commonly made the verb agree in number with the nearest preceding noun. Many in- stances occur in the Bible, e.g. Prov. i. 27 (where Luther's version also has 'Angst und Noth kommt'), ib. ii. 6 ; Luke v. 10. Paul Bayne, in one of his Letters (circ. 1600), says, 'You will be desirous of knowing how my wife and her place agreeth ;' Bacon, Essay on Masques, observes that ' double masques . . . addeth state and variety,' where no singular noun precedes the verb. Even Mr. Tennyson, in a recent volume of Poems, has the construction, 'I should know what God and man is. ' But many verbs apparently singular are really examples of the Northern plural in -J, — e;g. Shakspere, Corio- /anus, iv. i, 'fortune's blows . . . craves a noble cunning,' &c. &c. James I. constantly uses this form in his letters to Queen Elizabeth, as ' my articles desyrw, ' ' your subjectis preferir,' &c. 8 ere his jfrinie] Being only twenty-five years old. 9] Milton probably had in his mind Spenser's Astrophel, 7, 8. There is a similar repetition of the name, with marked effect, in the ode on Death of a Fair Infant, 26. The present line is imitated by Samuel Boyse (1741) in his Vision of Patience, ' Young Lycidas the learned and the good.' peer] i. c. ' equal,' from par. Milton has used the word only twice elsewhere in this original sense, in/". Z. i. 39, v. 812, though he often applies it to the rebel angels as a title of nobility — e.g. 'the grand infernal peers,' &c. — which is also its usual meaning in Shakspere. , With the present pas- sage cf P. Fletcher, Pise. Eel. vi. I, 'A fisher boy that never knew his^fw-;' Cowley, Death of Hervey, 'My sweet companion and my gentle peer.' This is another of the words (see note on sere, I. 2) explained as obsolete in the Glossary to the Shepheard's Kalendar ; it must have been familiar in the 14th century, as Wicklif, in his translation of Matt. xi. 16, has 'children that crienunto hsr peeris,' i.e. 'fellows.' For the history of the word see Du Cange, Glossarium, s. v. Pares. 10] Peck compares Virg. E. a. 3, ' neget quis carmina Gallo ? ' he knew to sing] Cf Comus, 87. These and similar expressions are evidently intended as jmitation.s of the Latin and Greek verb-noun infinitive — e.g. faK«/r callebat, ^SeH/ T/iriffraTO, &c. In Spenser's Ruines of Time occurs the well-known ' Not to have been dipped in Lethe's lake Could save the son of Thetis yJ-OOT to die,' (Cf Eur. Alcestis, II, liv imiiiv €/i^u. trd/iiii'.) But this construction is unnecessary and even inaccurate in 5° LYCIDAS. Himself to sing, and build the lofty rim gi He must not float upon his watery bier Unwept, and welter to the parching wind, English : first, because the infin. in -ing (O. E. -an) is the real equiva- lent of the classical phrase ; and secondly, because the sign ' to ' was properly used with the gerund in -anne or -ewie to denote a pur- pose. Probably our English poets, not knowing that the form in -ing was really an infinitive, and con- founding it with the present par- ticiple, which it accidentally re- sembles, thought that the only way of reproducing the Latin and Greek construction was by the use of the sign ' to ' with the verb. How far this estimate of King's poetry is supported by facts we have no adequate means of ascertaining, since only a few copies of his Latin verses are extant (see Masson's Life of Milton, vol. i. pp. 603, 604), which show a fair amount of scho- larship, but are of no great poetical merit. Milton may here be using the language of exaggeration, or he may have had other and more suf- ficient grounds for his opinion than such compositions as these would afford. build the lofty rime] Todd compares Spenser, Ruines of Rome, stanza xxiv. — ' To build with levell of my loftie style That which no handes can ever- moie compyle ;' also Eur. Supp. 998, aoiSar eirup- 7,ii«rf, to which we mayadd Aristoph. Rants, 1004, Tvpydxyas ^fiara trefivd. The Latin ' condere carmen ' (Lucr. V. 2 ; Hor. A. P. 436, Episf. I. iii. 24) is probably here imitated ; but the original expression does not ne- cessarily contain any metaphor from building, since condere simply means 'to put together,' and is therefore applied to any sort of operation which might come underthat general notion, such as building, composing, laying in the tomb, &c. ; it is more- over used of prose writing as well as of poetry. Gray, Death of Hoel, fol- lowing Milton, has ' build the lofty verse,' and Merrick (circ. 1700), in his Ode to Fancy, ' build the rhyme.' Rime = ' verse, ' as in /". Z. i. 16. Elsewhere in Milton the word occurs only in the Preface to Paradise Lost, where 'rime' is distinguished from blank verse. Since it is there written rime, but rhyme \a P. L.'x. 16, Bp. Pearson suggested that Milton pur- posely varied the spelling to signify thedifference of meaning. This idea is at any rate not supported by the present passage, since our poet ori- ginally wrote ,rime in his MS., though the printed editions of 1638 and 1645 both have rhyme. Hence I have adopted in the text what is now known to be the proper ortho- graphy. (See Appendix I.) 12 bier] (O. E. bch-, L. fer- etrum), because the waves bear the body on their surface. Cf. Fletcher, Purple Lsland, i. 210, "The dying swan . . . tides on her vratrie hearse.' 13 welter] properly 'to roll' (waj^-loWjCiBoZ-tzen, L. vol-wo, Gr. eOi-u). It was formerly used in a wider sense than at present. Cf. Od. Nat. 124 ; P. L. i. 78 ; Spens. Eel. vii. 197, 'These wisards wel- ter in wejth's caves.' Keble, Christian Year (4th S. after Tri- nity), speaks of ' the deep weltering flood.' For a very early use of the word see the King's Qiihair, by James I. of Scotland, 1423, where tlie turning of Fortune's wheel is called ' the sudayn zveltering of that LYCIDAS. 51 Without the meed of some melodious tear. ^^"-^ / Begin then, Sisters of the sacred well, ^ 15 That from beneath the s eat (rfyTby ^doth spring 5 ^ ^(v. Begin, and somewhat loudly sweSp the stffngT \ a '-.'•■•."< re »,4 Hence with denial vain, and coy excuse — - ^So may some gentle Muse ;C C ' -r. ilk quhele.' Cf. Pope, Odyssey, xiv. 15s, 'he welters on the wave.' FaTcMng] describes generally the effect of exposure to the weather, and is used of cold as well as of beat, P. L. ii. 594, where Newton corap. Ecchts. xliii. 21, ' The cold north wind . . . burneth the wilderness. ' Cf. Virg. G. i. 93, ' Borese pene- trabile frigus adurat ; ' Xen. Anab. IV. V. 3, where the wintry wind is said c^voKaic ij/ 7ret;/Ta. meed] {O.E. mid, G. miethe, akin Xa ikia&is). . Cf. /. 84, the only other instance of the word in Milton. Shakspere uses it frequently. Cf. Spens. F. Q. 11. iii. 10, ' honour virtue's meed ;' Browne, Brit. Fast., 'bayethe learned shepherd 'smeede.' melodious tear] = ' mournful strain ; ' imitated by Mason in his Monody on Pope, ' the loan of some poetick woe.' Cooper, 7om6 of Shakspere, 'the gurgling notes of her melodious woe ; ' Shelley, Ado- nais, 'the lorn nightingale Mourns not her mate witit such melodious pain.' Hurd comp. Eur. Suppl. 454, Sf^Kpua 5' iroLfid^ovfft ( = ' a dirge'). Cf. Viig. ySn. ii. 145, 'his lacrimis vitam damus,' i.e. 'to this sorrowful appeal.' In the Epitaph on the Marchioness of Winchester Milton speaks of his verses as ' tears of perfect m&n,' and Spenser en- titles his elegy on Sir P. Sidney Tears of the Muses. 15] The customary invocation of the Muses is studied from the opeur ing lines of Hesiod's Theogony. The ' sacred well ' is Aganippe on Mount Helicon (upoi ^ryo xt ii,6fiv re), and not, as Keightley supposes, ' a fount of the poet's own creation,' and the ' seat of Jove ' is the altar upon the same hill (/Swjibj' ifia9(vios Kpovlams). Cf. // Penseroso, 47, 48 ; Spenser, Eel. iv. 41, where the name of the mountain is transferred to the spring. ' Well ' in the sense of a natural fount occurs only here and in P. L. xi. 416 (from Psalm xxxvi. 9). 17 somewhat loudly] i.e. make no uncertain answer to my appeal (see next line). Todd quotes from Drummond's Elegy on Gusta-mis Adolphus — ' Speak it again, and louder louder yet; Else while we hear the sound we shall forget What it delivers.' 18 coy] (Fr. coi, Lat. quietus), formerly said of things as well as of persons (P. L. iv. 310). Warton instances from the Apology for Smec- tymnuus ' a coy flurting style,' i.e. one which deals in quibbling and subterfuge, and thus eludes the grasp of the understanding ; also Drayton, Past. Eel. vii., 'these things are all too coy (i.e. difficult) for me.' Chaucer, Romaunt of the Rose, has the verb acoie, ' to caress.' Cf. Turberville (of Jupiter' and Danae), ' when he coyde the closed nunne in a towre. ' 19 so may, &c.] probably sug- gested by the ' sic tibi,' &c. of Virg. Eel. X. 4. Cf. Eel. ix. 40 ; Hor. 52 LYCIDAS. With lucky words favour my destined urn, And as he passes turn, And bid fair peace be to my sable shroud — For we were nursed upon the self-same hill, 20 Od. I. iii. I. The sense is, 'As the Muses enable me to lament my lost friend, so may some kindly poet honour my memory when I am dead.' For Muse in the sense of 'poet,' cf. Spenser, Prothala- tiiion, 159, ' Some brave Muse may sing ;' Dryden, Abs. and Achit. I. 'Adriel .... himself a Muse;' Chapman, Ham. 0. Z. X. 1068), in all of which the context shows that it is employed metaphorically, these re- ferences prove nothmg as to its meaning here. It may, however, mean the black pall that covers the cofiSn. Mallet, in his iVilliam and Margaret, has the lines — ' And clay-cold was her lily hand That held her sable shroud,' but the phrase is probably copied from Milton. Todd's citations from Sylvester are still less to the point, since two of them do not contain the word at all, and in the third it unquestionably means ' dress of mourning,' in its primary accepta- tion (O. E. scrud) of clothes or covering. Cf. Shaksp. L. Lab. Lost, v. 2, 'A smock shall be your shroud,' and (for the secondary sense) Ezek. xxxi. 3, ' a cedar with a shadowing shroud.' Pennant, in his London, mentions 'a 'place called the shrowds, a covered space on the side of [Paul's] church.' 23] The poem now passes into the pastoral form ; the new para- graph should begin at /. 25, the present line being connected with I. 18, ' I would fain sing for Ly- cidas, for he was my companion, &c.' Masson, Life of Milton, p. 6li, says, ' The hill is Cambridge, the joint feeding of the flocks is com- panionship in study, the rural ditties are academic iambics and elegiacs, and old Damcetas is either Mr. Chappell or some more kindly fel- low of Christ's' (see on I. 36). Among these college poems were the Elegiacs to T. Young, 1626; the LYCIDAS. S3 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 H Vacation Exercise, 1628 ; and the Nativity Ode, 1629. King's Latin verses have been already noticed (/. 10). P. Fletcher, in his ist Piscatory Eclogtte, describes his fa- ther's ejirly life under a similar alle- gory drawn from the fisherman's trade : — 'When the raw blossom of my youth was yet In my first childhood's green en- closure bound, Of Aquadune I leamt to fold my net . . . And guide my boat where Thames and Isis heire, By lowly Eton slides and Windsor proudly faire. But when my tender youth gan fairly blow, I changed large Thames for Ca- mus' narrower seas ; There as my years, so skill with years did grow, And now my pipe the better sort did please ; So that with Limnus and with Belgio I durst to challenge all my fisher peeres, That by leam'd Camus' banks did spend their youthfull yeares. ' 25 lawns] P. L. iv. 252 ; V Al- legro, 71 ; Od. Nat. 85. 'A lawn is a plaine among trees ' (Camden). Cf. L. saltus^ The restriction of meaning to grass kept smooth in a garden is comparatively modern (Wordsworth, White Doe of Ryl- stone, canto iv. 45 ; Tennyson, In Mem. 94, &c.). The word is va- riously written lawnd, laund, lande in Piers Plowman, Chaucer, Surrey, Shakspere, &c. ; it is the Old Fr. lande, Sp. landa, Welsh Han, which comes from the older Celtic Ian, ' a place,' and originally meant an area or open space, hence a church- yard and a church, as in Llan- dudno, &c. 26] Milton's habit of early rising is illustrated in the Apology for Smectymnuus (quoted by Warton), where he describes himself as ' up- stirring in winter often before the sound of any bell awakens men to labour or devotion ; in summer as oft as the bird that first rouses, or not much tardier.' Cf. V Allegro, 41 foil.; P. L. v. 1-25; ix. 192- 200. opening] altered from ' glimmer- ing ' in ed. 1638, from the MS. first draft ; the improvement is obvious. The phrase is partly imitated by M. Bruce in his Daphnis, when he speaks of ' the closing lids of light.' Cf. Crashaw, Music's Duel, ' the eyelids of the blushing day. ' War- ton cites Job iii. 9 (margin) ; xli. 18 ; Soph. Antig. 103, aiiepas /SXe- ^"r (/ What timejhejjay'fly winds her sultry horn, Battening ouj-flocks with the fresh dews of night, Oft till the(stay that rose at evening bright Toward heaven 's descent had sloped his westering wheel. ( ' an hunting, ' &c. ) • 'Fell on sleep ' occurs in Acts xiii. 36 ; in Cran- mer's Bible the reading was 'a building' in John ii. 20, but it is now 'in building.' heard what time, &o.] a con- densed expression for 'heard the horn of the gray-fly at the time ' when she sounds it.' Compi oKoii- em Stc, audire quum. 28] ' The gray-fly or trumpet-fly ' ( Warton) . This cannot be the cock- chaffer, as some assert, since that insect flies only in the evening. Scott, Critical Essays, observes that the three parts of the day, morning, noon, and evening, are clearly in- tended. A writer in the Edinburgh Rmlew (July 1868) suggests that the ' gray-fly ' may be the grig or cricket, O. E. grmg-hama, i. e. 'gray-coat,' from its colour. For ' horn ' cf. Collins, Ode to Evening, ' where the beetle winds his small but sullen horn.^ sultry horn] according to the classical usage by which an epithet is employed for an adverbial phrase denoting time. Farrar, Greek Syn- tax, p. 81, instances (tkotoios ^\Ber, ' ^neas se matutinus agebat,' com- paring them with Dryden's ' gently they laid them down as evening 30 29 battening] usually intransi- tive, 'to grow fat,' as in Shaksp. J/amlei, iii. 4, 'batten on this moor.' It is used transitively in J. Philips' Cider, bk. i., 'the mea- dows here with battening ooze en- riched,' and in Brown's Brit. Pas- torals, bk. ii. 1st song, ' the batning earth.' The original root is ia/-, whence also iet-ter and O. E. bit-an (see ssa. I. 64). There was an older fonn, battel (cf. Holland's Plu- tarch, ' battel! soil '), whence the college term 'battels.' Batful= ' rich ' occurs often in the Poly- olbion. fresh dewa, &c.] Cf. Virg. G. iii. 324—326; Eel. viii. 15. 30] See Various Readings, Keight- ley remarks that the evening star * appears, not rises, and it is never any- where but on ' ' heaven's descent," ' and he endeavours to save Milton from the charge of astronomical in- accuracy by interpreting the allusion of any star that rose about sunset. But the passage from the Faery Qaeene, HI. iv. 51 ('the golden Hesperus was mounted high in top of heaven sheen '), which Keightley himself quotes in his note on Comus, I. 93, shows that another poet was in fact guilty of the same error. Probably both remembered the ou- \tbt axTTijp of Apollonius (Argonau- tica, iv. 1630), which is the same as Hesperus ; and it is no necessaiy imputation of ignorance against Mil- ton to suppose that he meant this star both here and in the Comus, since he was fer more likely to have erred in company with the ancients than to have corrected their mis- takes by the light of modem dis- covery (see on /. 168). The amended line, inferior perhaps to the original on account of its difiiise- ness, is just such an expansion as a poet might easily produce, if he wished to lengthen the verse with- out recasting the whole passage. 31 westering] originally 'bur- nisht,' which, as Todd observes, is a common epithet of the sun in older poetry. Milton, however, has not so applied it elsewhere.^ LYCIDAS. 55 Meanwhile the rural ditties were not mute, Tempered to the oaten flute ; Between 1638 and 1645 ^^ ""^y have recollected Chaucer's line in Troilus and Cresseyde, ' the sonne gau westrin fast,' &c. A corre- spondent in Notes and Queries (Feb. 1873) quotes from Whittier, ' the glow of autumn's westering day.' 'Wested' occurs in Spenser's In- troduction to the Faery Queene, I. 8, 'westing' in Cook's Voyages. Cf. Dryden, Virg. G. iv. 577, 'the southing sun.' The northern Eng- lish form ' westling ' is used by Allan Ramsay, Gentle Shepherd, ii. 4, and often by Bums. 32] Imitated by R. West, Death of Q. Caroline — ' Meantime thy rural ditty was not mute. Sweet bard of Merlin's cave.' 'Ditty' (dictum, Fr. dicte) means properly the words of a song as dis- tinguished from the tune. Cf. Shaksp..^.r You Like It,v. 3, 'Though there wa? no great matter in ia& ditty, yet the note was very untuneable.' Hence it was applied to a short pithy-poem, generally on love and its sorrows. Milton has ' amorous ditties,' P. L. i. 449 ; xi. 584. Cf. Comus, 86. 33 tempered] = ' attuned,' P. L. vii. 598. Warton compares Fletch- er, Purple Island, ix. 20, ' temper- ing their sweetest notes unto thy lay,' and Spenser, Eel. vi. 7. Gray, Progress of Poesy, has — ' Thee the voice, the dance obey. Tempered to thy warbled lay.' Cf. Petrarch, Sonnet xxxviii. 2, ' Temprar potess' io in si soavi note I miei sospiri.' The Latin tempe- rare is similarly used, Hor. Od. iv. -iii. 18. Milton employs the word •teirper' in several senses, e.g. of sword metal, P. L. ii. 813; vi. 322; of mental constitution, P. R. iii. 27 ; of climate, P. L. xii. 636 (cf. Chaucer, Assembly of Fcfwles, stanza 30, ' the aire ... so at- tempre was ') ; of mixing in propor- tion (cf Ezek. xlvi. 14; Exod. xxix. 2). All these come from the general notion of dividing (perhaps in rin-v-u, /em-p-us, &c.), the pre- vailing idea being that of regular distribution and order. oaten flute] Cf /. 88 ; Comus, 345 ; Spenser, Eel. i. 72 ; x. 8 &c. , &c. ; Collins, Ode to Evening, I. i. 'Pipes of corn' are mentioned in Shaksp. M. N. Dr. ii. 2 ; Spenser, Eel. ii. 40. Although the oaton pipe has been chosen by English poets as the representative of pas- toral music, the classical authority for such usage is more than doubt- ful. Theocritus speaks only of reeds (/ct^Xajuos, auA^s, Swi-'o^), 'or of the Pan's pipe (o-upl^l). Lucretius in the celebrated passage, v. 1382 foil., adds the hemlock pipe [cicuia) to the calamus and tibia. Perhaps the earliest instance of avena in this sense is in Virg. Eel. i. 2 (cf. Ov. Met. viii. 191 ; TibiiU. m. iv. 71) ; but it is a question whether the word may not there mean any reed or hollow stalk ; Pliny, N. H. xix. i , uses it of the flax-plant, ' tam gra- cili avena.' No argument can of course be drawn from the stipula of Virg. Eel. iii. 27, where the de- signation is purposely disparaging. So in an Elegy to Dr. Donne by R. B.— ' all indeed Compared to him, piped on an oaten reed ;' and in Tickell's mock-heroic poem, 'Kensington Gardens, ' the shrill corn-pipes ' are a substitute for mar- tial trumpets in a battle of fairies. 56 LYCIDAS. Rough Satyrs danced, and Fauns with cloven heel From the glad sound would not be absent long, 35 And old Damcetas loved to hear our song. But oh ! 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 In this country the oaten pipe seems to have been common among rus- tics, and may still be met with. Burns, in a letter to Mr. Thompson (No. Ixiv.), speaks of 'an oaten reed cut and notched like that you see every shepherd boy have,^ but the sound is described as 'abominable.' Probably, therefore, our older poets took the expression from an over- literal rendering of arena in pass^es where it ought to have been under- stood in a wider sense. 34] Cf. Virg. Eel. vi. 27, ' Turn vero in numerum Faunosque feras- que videres Ludere ; ' Pope, Pasto- arrant, doltish clown.' If Milton had this Damoetas in mind, the allusion to Chappell under that name may possibly show that he had not quite forgotten the old disagreement with his tutor which led to his tem- porary 'rustication' in 1626 (see Eleg. i. 11-20, Masson'sZj^, vol. i. 141). 37-49] Scott in his Critical Es- iays remarks that there is ' a peculiar languid melody in these lines,' and that Milton has here used 'the poetical licence by which sense is attributed to inanimate existence to great advantage.' Cf. Virg. Eel. rals, ii. 50. Newton comp. alsoX^x. 13, v. 62, for the sympathy of Spenser, Fast. j£gl. 116 — ""'' ' -'----'^- — -"- '- 'Ye Sylvans, Fawns, and Satyrs that emong These thickets oft have daunced after his pipe.'' If Damoetas is Mr. Chappell, the Satyrs and Fauns may represent the wilder and less studious under- graduates of Christ's. We know from a letter to Gill, 1628, that Milton had to complain of uncon- genial companions at Cambridge ( ' cum nuUos fere studiorum con- sortes hie reperiam, &c. '), and he may have intended to pay them a passing compliment. 36 Old Damoetas] is a character in Sidney's Arcadia, the master of the young shepherd Dorus, and described as a ' suspicious uncouth. natural objects with human sorrow and joy. 38 never most] = art destined never to return. Cf. Od. Nat. 151, ' This must not yet be so.' 39] Dunster cites Ovid, Met. xi. 43, where the beasts, woods, and rocks are said to mourn for Orpheus. For the structure of the line cf., Virg. G. iv. 465, • Te, dulcis con- junx, te solo in litore secum, &c. ; ' ■ Spenser, F. Q. iv. x. 44, ' Thee, goddesse, thee the winds, the clouds doe feare.' 40 wild thyme] not mentioned elsewhere by Milton. Prof. Morley quotes this line in defence of the ex- pression ' thymy wood ' in the Epi- taph, against theobjection raised that ' thyme does not grow in a wood. He adds a reference to Hor. Od. i. xvii. 5, and to Shaksp. M. N. ^ ' Faunus was represented with goat's feer, 'semicaper,'Ovid, Fast. v. loi. LYCIDAS. 57 . And all their echoes mourn. The willows, and the hazel-copses green, AShall now no more be seen Fanning their joyous leaves to thy soft lays. ' As killing as the canker to the rose, V Or taint- worm to the weanling herds that graze, 45 Dream, ii. 2, where the scene is laid in a forest. Gadding] here simply describes the straggling nature of the vine (Cic. de Senect., 'multiplici lapsu et erratico'), without any allusion to her desertion of the marital elm, as Warburton suggests (Hor. Od. IV. V. 30 ; Epod. ii. 10 ; Catullus, Ixii. 49). Gad, from sb. gad, 'a goad ' (cf. ' gad-&y '), Icel. gaddr, meant ' to drive about, ' and was once common. Warton quotes from a Norfolk Register of 1534 'the Gadynge with S. Marye Songe,' i.e. the going about with a carol to the Virgin. Gadlyng = ' vagrant ' in Chaucer, Wyatt, &c. Cf. P. Fletcher, Pise. Eel. i. 21, ' the gadding winde ;' Bacon, Essays, ' Envy is a gadding poison.' The word is however specially used of wives roving from home, as in Ecclus. xxv. 25 ; xxvi. 8, &c. A poet of the sixteenth century (probably John Heywood) speaks thus in praise of his lady — ' At Bacchus' feast none her shall meet, Ne at no wanton play ; Nor gazing in the open street, Noi gadding as astray.' 41] Cf. Moschus, Epit. Bion. 30, 'Ax^ S' 4v irerppffip odiperai &tti cianrp, Shelley, ^donais, St. xv. — ' Lost Echo sits among the voiceless mountains, And feeds her grief with thy re- membered lay.' 44 fanning] i.e. 'moving like a fan,' as in /*. L. iv. 156, ^gentle gales, fanning their odoriferous wings.' Spenser, E. Q. 1. i. 17, has, ' threatening her angry sting,' i.e. moving in a threatening manner. 45 canker] a crab-like tumour (' cancra') in the rose, caused by a caterpillar feeding on the blossom. Here it is used for the insect itself. Cf. Joel, i. 4, ii. 25 ; 2 Tim. ii. 17 ; James v. 3. Warton gives several references from Shakspere — e.g. Two Gent, of Verona, i. I, ' In the sweetest bud the eating canker dwells ;' K. John, iii. ^-.M.N. Dr. ii. 3, &c. &c. It is the same word as caneer. 46] SirT. Browne, Vulgar Errors, . says : ' There is found in the summer a spider called toW, ofared colour This is accounted a deadly poison unto cows and horses. It is most unlikely that Milton should have called this insect a ' worm.' He probably refers either to the maggots or ' flukes ' which infest the livers of sheep, or to the parasitic worm (Strongylus micrurus) which, finding its way into the bronchial tubes of , young lambs, is a frequent source of . . disease. weanling] a diminutive oiweanel, fiomwean. In Spenser, Eel. ix., ' a weanell waste ' = a weaned lamb ; Beattie translates defulsos a lacie (Virg. Eel. vii. 15) 'my weanling lambs.* This must not be con- founded with 'eanling' (Mereh. of Ven. i. 3), which means 'just dropt,' from ean or yean (O. E. edcnian, •to conceive in the womb'). 'Wean' S8 LYCIDAS. Or frost to flowers that their gay wardrobe wear When first the white-thorn blows ; Such, Lycidas, thy loss^Q^epherd's ear. Where were ye, NjOTfBnS|when the remorseless deep 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, 50 is O. E. Tvenian, G. ge-wohiun, to accustom to do without the breast. 47] Soott thinks ' simplicity is violated by making flowers wear their wardrobe.' It is difficult to see the point of this criticism. For the original reading 'buttons,' cf. Shaksp. Hamlet, i. 3 ; Browne, Brit. Past, ii, 3, ' Flora's choice buttons of a russet dye. ' Hence the name of the flower called ' bachelor's buttons. ' 50-55] This form of appeal to the Nymphs, complaining of their absence from the scene of their vo- tary's distress, has been a favourite one with poets ever since Virgil (Eel. X. 9) copied it from Theocritus (i. 66). Milton has here borrowed something from both _; from the latter in making the locality of the Nymphs suit that of the catastrophe (whereas Virgil speaks of their usual haunts, T'amassus, Pindus, and Aganippe), and from the former in identifying the Nymphs with the Muses, whose lavourites both Gallus and Lycidas are imagined to be. Keightley refers to Aristoph. Nub. 269 foil., as the original source of the idea, but the resemblance is hardly close enough to warrant the supposition that Theocritus was thinking of that passage, the circumstances and lead- ing .sentiment being quite different. The form of address (eft-f — rfre, &c.) might better, be compared with that in //. 156 foil, of the present poem. The lines which Warton quotes from Spenser's Astrophel, 127 foil., are not much more than an echo of the Greek and Latin ori- ginals, since the remonstrance is there addressed, not to the Nymphs, but to shepherds and shepherdesses, who were the actual companions of Astrophel ; the office of stanching the wound being in fact performed by some strange shepherds, but too late to save his life. Lord Lyttelton on the Death of his Wife imitates more closely : — 'Where were ye. Muses, when re- lentless Fate From these fond arms your fair disciple tore ? Nor then did Pindus and Castalia's stream. Or Aganippe's fount your steps detain, . . . ^Nor where Clitunmus rolls his gentle stream.' Cf. Shelley, Adonais, — ' where was lorn Urania, When Adonais died ?' Ossian, Dar-thuia, ' Where have ye been, ye southern winds, when the sons of my love were deceived ?' 52] 'The steep,' according to Richardson, is the hill Ceryg y Druidian in Denbighshire, the re- puted sepulchre of the Druids. Keightley suggests the Pemnaen- mawr (between Conway and Ban- gor), but the mention of the Druids, in the absence of any special legend connecting them with that locality, LYCIDAS. Nor on the shaggy top of Mona high, Nor yet where Deva spreads her wizard stream. Ay me, I fondly dream ! Had ye been there — for what could that have done ? 59 55 seems to favour the former supposi- tion. 54 shaggy top] Cf. P. L. vi. 645 ; Comus, 429. Drayton, Po- lyolMon, 12th Song, speaks of ' shaggy heaths.' This description of Anglesey was true only of the olden time ; it was then called ' the Dark,' as Drayton tells us in the 9th Song of his Polyolbion, where Mona is made to say — ' my brooks ... Of their huge oaks bereft to heaven so open lie. That now there's not a root discerned by any eye.' We do not know whether Mil- ton had any personal acquaintance with these parts ; Masson thinks he may possibly have visited his friend Diodati's residence on the Dee {Eleg. i. 3). 55] Cf. Vac. Ex. '98 ; Spenser, F. Q. IV. xi. 30 ; an& the 'AkiSos Uphv llSap of Theocr. i. 69. Dray- ton calls the Dee the ' ominous ' and the 'hallowed' flood in Polyolb. loth Song ; this superstition was based on the fact of its being the boundary between England and Wales, whence-T- ' the changing of his fords The future ill or good of either country told.' In the nth Song the epithet 'wi- sard ' is applied to the Weever, of which it is said that — ' oft twixt him and Dee Much strife arose in their prophetick skill.' Hence probably arose the notion, mentioned by Camden, that the word meant 'God's water,' and the Roman name Deva may have been partly owing to a similar association of ideas. Col. Robertson, Topo- graphy of Scotland, p. 141, derives it from die Gaelic da-abh (dav) = 'double water' or confluence, and this is fiirther confirmed by its Welsh name Dyfr-dwy, signifying the same thing. 56 Ay me !] = ' Ah me,' as in /. 154; P. L. iv. 86, &c. It is probably the Spanish Ay de mi, and is to be distinguished from the affirmative Ay (G. jd). A cor- respondent of Notes and Queries observes that 'oh ja' is used in Southern Germany as an expression of woe^rather a curious coinci- dence. The Italians also say Ahimi. fondly] =s foolishly, from the p. p. of the old verb fonne, 'to make foolish.' The modem sense of ' in- dulgent' obviously arose from the idea of excessive love blinding the eyes of reason. For the primary use cf. P. L. iii. 470; xi. 59; Shaksp. Coriolanus, iv. I, "Tis fond to wail;' Spenser, F. Q. III. viii. 25, ' rudenes fond.' 57] These words will hardly bear Newton's proposed construction — ' I dream of your having been there.' Warton would supply the ellipse after ' there ' — ' but why should I suppose it, for what, &c. ; ' a construction resembling the Greek aAAa •yh.p (dxV ou 7tip oISo, &c. ), but hardly admissible in English. A simpler way would be to refer the 'for,' &c., to the words 'I fondly dream,' i.e. 'I fondly dream k/^«« I say Had ye been there, &c. ;' the question in /. 50 being of course equivalent to a wish 'that the Muses had been present. 6o LYCIDAS. What could the Muse herself that Orpheus bQre, The Muse herself for her enchanting son. Whom universal Nature did lame nt, 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 I 60 58-63] A comparison with the various readings of the original MS. will show that this passage is the result of most careful revision. Having first substituted the more poetical description of Calliope as ' the Muse that Orpheus bore ' for the direct designation of her by name, and having got rid of the somewhat prosaic parenthesis, ' the gods farsighted bee,' Milton first introduced in the margin the words ' and heaven and hel deplore ; ' but afterwards erased them. ' Divine head' (of the margin) was then changed to ' goary visage,' suggested by the ' goarie scalp ' of the first draft, and a final line was added to close the paragraph and to complete the rime. For the sentiment compare an epitaph by Antipater Sidonius, translated by Major Mac- gregor from the Greek Anthology — ' No longer, Orpheus, shalt thou charmed oaks lead ; For thou art dead ! and much the Muses grieved ; Calliope, thy mother, most be- reaved. Why mourn we our dead sons, since e'en their own To save from death no power to gods is known? ' 59 enchanting son] Cf. P. L. 'x. 353, 'his fair enchanting daugh- ter.' For the story see Ov. Met. xi. I-S5, 61. This passage is partly repeated in P. L. vii. 34 foil. Rout — ' company ' is a favourite word with Milton (Cotnus, 542 ; i'. A. 443 ; P. L. i. 747, &c.). Shak- spere has ' rout of rebels,' ' merry rout,' and similar expressions. C£ Spenser, F. Q. VI. ix. 8, 'the shepheard swaynes sat in a rout' This word has the same derivation a.s «>a^= ' defeat,' and r«m the mouth of Satan tempting our Lord to am- • bltlon . where the phrase ■ erectea spirits ' {/. 27) may perhaps explain the 'clear spirit' of this passage, i.e. purified by elevation into a clearer atmosphere. Keightley takes it to mean ' illustrious,' It. chiaro. The identical expression ' clear spirit ' is cited by Todd from Mil- ton's Fh'ose Works, vol. i. p. 161. Scott (Critical Essays) doubts the correctness of representing Fame ' both as a motive and as a reward.' But surely the desire of Fame acts as a motive during the toil of action, and when realised in attainment be- comes its final reward. 71] Athenseus in his Deipnoso- phistcs (xi. 15, g 116) represents Plat? LYCIDAS. 63 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 Fur)f with the abhorred shears, And slits the thin-spun life. ' But not the praise,' Phoebus replied, and touched my trembling ears, ' F ame is no plant that grows on mortal soil, 0.-- 75 as saying %ii-)(arov rbv rrjs S6^ris j^iruya 4v T^ davArtfi air^ inroSvd- fuBa. Cf. Tacitus, J/ist. iv. 6, 'etiam sapientibus cupido glorise novissima exuitur,' of which the line quoted by Warton from Massinger's Very Woman, ' though the desire of fame be the last weakness wise men put off,' is nearly a literal transla- tion. Of i>ride Bp. Hall says, ' Pride is the inmost coat, which we put on first and put off last.' 73 guerdon] This word is not elsewhere found in Milton's poems, but is common in Spenser {/^. Q. i. vii. 15 ; II. vi. 28, &c.). Though it occurs at least as early as Chaucer, it seems to have become obsolete in the sixteenth century, being ex- plained in the Glossary to the S/iep- /leard's Kalendar (see on /. 2) ; and even as late as 1730 it was thought to require a note in a poem by West on Education. Most readers will re- member the scene in Love's Labour's Lost, iii. i, where Costard the clown exclaims, ' O sweet guerdon, better than remuneration,' taking each word to mean a sum of money. (For the derivation see Appendix I.). 74] Cf. P. S. iii. 47, /. c.; Chap- man's Homer's fl. xvii. 177, 'that frail blaze of excellence that neigh- bours death.' Pindar {Nem. a. 4) uses ^Kiyeatai in the same sense. 75 blind Fury] Cf. Spenser, Ruines of Rome, st. 24. Milton here purposely in indignation calls Atropos a Fury, and not without classical authority ; for in an Orphic Hymn (quoted by Sympson) the 0eal iLotfM are styled o^toTrXtiica^oi, which is a proper ep'thet of the Furies. Langhorne in his Elegy on the Death of Handel speaks of ' the grim fury's breast.' Cf Lloyd, Tears and Triumph of Parnassus — ' Where were ye Muses (/. 50 supra) when the fatal shears The Fury raised to close his reve- rend years ? ' For the ' shears of destiny ' see Shaksp. K. John, v. 2. 76] According to the old verse— 7 ' Clotho colum retinet, Lachesis net, et Atropos occat.' For ' slit ' in the sense of cutting across, mstead of lengthwise, Keight- ley cites Golding's Ovid. Met. xii. 248— ' Like one that with an ax doth slit An ox's neck in sacrifice.' But not the praise] i.e. ' the praise is not intercepted ' (Warton). This is a kind of zeugma, the verb •slits' being strictly applicable to the thread alone, but suggesting another verb of similar meaning to govern 'praise.' 77] From Virg. Eel. vi. 3, where Conington remarks that touching the ear was a symbolical act, the ear being the seat of memory. 78] Cf Pindar, Nem. vii. 45, Ti|iia Se y'v^ufTOi, &c. , i.e. ' true honour is theirs whose glorious famf 64 LYCIDAS. Nor in the glistering foil Set off to the world, nor in broad rumour lies, But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes 80 the god exalteth, an aid to their memory after death' {TtSvaKdrav 79, 80] Thus translated by Plump- tre (1797)— oiS" 4vi Hi;3S4\ais iptray (aXiiiuurt Keirai ivTiva. Tuv iroAASc 9dfi.$ei xa) oiyd- And by Mathias (see note on /. 19)- ' Non mai d' orpel fallace Con mentito splendor sfavilla al mondo, Dello spanto romor nemica, Fama.' Milton's words admit of a twofold construction. The first is — 'Nor is it (Fame) set off to the world in (i.e. fy) the glistering foil, nor does it lie (consist) in a wide reputation.' In this case ' foil ' must be under- stood in a sense which It often bears elsewhere, of a dark substance (originally a thin leaf of metal), in which jewels were placed to ' set off' their lustre. Cf Shaksp. /iicA. n. i. 3- ' 2. foil vvfterein thou art to set The precious jewel of thy home re- turn ;' I Hai. IV. i. 2 (quoted by Warton), ' And like bright metal on a sullen ground, &c.' In Rich. III. v. 3 the stone of Scone set in the oak chair of Edward I. is called ' a base foul stone, Made precious by the foil of Eng- land's chair.' Chr. Brook in an Epitkalamium (speaking of a newly wedded bride) says — ' Then let the dark foyle of the ge- niall bed Extend her brightness to his in- ward sight.' But this mode of taking the words fails to give a suitable meaning to the passage. It is not Fame itself which is ' set off to the world,' but the life and actions of the man, the display of which before the eyes of the public constitutes fame — at least according to the vulgar notion which Milton is here combating. The true sense seems to be this : ' Nor does it (true Fame) consist in the specious appearance which is dis- played to the world, nor in a wide- spread renown.' ./^a«^ will then be the subject of the verb lies, and set off a participle agreeing with foil ; the preposition in before ' glistering foil ' will have the same construc- tion and sense as the in before ' broad rumour,' both phrases being' constructed after lia. And the meaning of 'foil' will be, not ex- actly 'leaf-gold,' as Newton takes it (comparing the 'golden foile' of Spenser, F. Q. 1. iv. 4), but ti/isel, i.e. some baser metal which glitters like gold, and makes a feir show to the eye. Scott doubts 'whether the metaphor of "plant" is con- tinued to this line or not,' and- imagines ' a plant with leaves artifi- cially gilded.' Perhaps the idea of ' foil ' (folium) was suggested by the word ' plant,' but the metaphor itself is not resumed till /. 81 in the words 'lives and spreads,' which describe the growth of a tree. 81 by] probably = 'near,' i.e. 'in presence of Shaksp. Ta/^i^/i Night, iii. i, • Thou mayest say the king lives fy a beggar, if a beggar dwell near him.' So we still say 'hard*y.' This seems better than LYCIDAS. 1 perfect witness of all-ju dging (J ove , y tie pronounces lastly on each dee^^ so much' fame in Heaven__expect thy meed.' ) fountain Arethuse, and thou honoured flood, )oth-sliding Mincius, crowned with vocal feeds, Lt strain I heard was of a higher mood, now my oat proceeds, i listens to the herald of the sea, 65 8S fhtley's explanation, ' by means ! lastly] in the somewhat un- 1 sense of ' finally ' or ' decisive- ' a literal rendering of ulti- i. Cf. Hor. Od. I. xvi. 19, ,s urbibus ultimcz Stetere causae, ' i.e. the final (ultimate) cause leir ruin. \ meed] See on /. 14, and cf. iser, F. Q. III. x. 31, 'Fame is need and glory, virtue's pay.' 1-102] The return after the di- iion is marked by an invocation he pastoral fotmtain Arethusa, of Virgil's native river, the cius — a practical recognition of Sicilian and Roman pastorals lilton's own originals (see In- action). For the story of Are- 1 see Ovid, Mei. v. 579 foil, [oschus, Epitaphium Bionis, 83, 1 is said to have ' drunk of husa's fount,' and in Theocr. Id. 7 the dying Daphnis exclaims, 'ApiBovira. Vii^il {£cl. x. I) kes her as a Muse inspiring ong. inoured flood] imitated by West is Motwdy on Q. Caroline, ' O lured flood with reeds Pierian ned, Isis ! ' Here the epithet .-en to the river because of its liation with Virgil. J C£ Sylvester, Du Bartas, ' the crystal of smooth-sliding s.' This and the 'vocal reeds ' rom Virgil, Georg. iii. 14, 'tardis ubi flexibus errat Mincius, et tenera praetexit arundine ripas.' The epi- thet 'vocal' is best illustrated by the passage in Lucretius, v. 1383 foil., alluded to on /. 33. 87] An apology to the rural muse for departing from the pastoral strain, under the irresistible influ- ence of Phoebus. A similar device is adopted after the next digression (/. 132). mood] (B. L. i. 550 ; J". A. 661) = ' character,' from modus, signify- ing a particular arrangement of in- tervals in the musical scale, tJiQ study of which formed so important an element in the Greek system of education (Plato, Republic, B. iii. ; Aristotle, Folitics, B. viii.). The word has nothing to do with a * mood ' or slate of mind, which is O. E. mSd, G. muth, 'impulse,' though the similarity of meaning might easily cause confusion. 88] See on /. 33. Here the in- strument, of course, stands for the poem. A still bolder expression occurs in the 6th Elegy, /. 89, where patriis meditata cicutis means ' com- posed in my native tongue.' In Landor's Imaginary^ Conversations (Southey and Landor) this line is curiously misquoted, 'now my oar proceeds ; ' upon which Southey is supposed to remark, ' Does the oar listta?' 89 listens] i.e. like a pupil ((iicpaaT^s), to learn what he is to say 66 LYCIDAS. io That came in Neptune's plea. 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. T" They knew not of his story ; And sage Hippotades their answer brings, 95 upon the subject. The ' herald ' is Triton, the son of Neptune ; his instrument was the concha or spiral shell (Virg. jEn. vi. lyi ; x. 209), and his office of herald is illustrated in Ovid, Met. i. 333 foil., where he is ordered to sound a retreat for the waters of the deluge ('cecinit jussos receptus'). 90] Keightley understands 'Nep- tune's plea' to mean the judicial enquiry which Neptune deputed Triton to hold ; and he instances the ' Court of Common Pleas,' &c., as examples of the word in this sig- nification. But it seems better to take it in its usual sense of a state- ment made by the defendant to sa- tisfy (placer^ the court ; here the excuse offered by Neptune and con- veyed by Triton. Milton probably intended to represent Neptune him- self as involved in the blame, and desirous to clear himself by a strict enquiry appUed to his subordinates. Plumptre adopts this view when he translates no(r€i5owviis i^vvr-tip. 91 felon] (MS. ' fellon ') = ' cruel,' if it comes from /eil, with the additional sense of ' criminal,' the winds being introduced as cul- prits about to be tried. For the etymology see Appendix I. 93 wings] misprinted 'winds' in Tonson's edition of 1705, and in Newton's of 1 785, probably on ac- count of 'winds' in /. 91. 'Gust of wings' is the gen. of quality = 'winged gusts,' and ' rugged ' = 'ragged,' i.e. broken by intervening obstacles. Rugged and ragged seem to have been used indiscriminately about this period (L' Allegro, 9; Isaiah ii. 21), but they are dis- tinct words, the former being allied to the O. E. riih, 'rough, 'the latter to Swed. ragg= ' sha^ hair.' 94] Warton compares P. L. xi. 746 ; Drayton, Polyolbion, tst Song, 'the utmost end of Comwal's fur- rowing ieak.' Pliny, Nat. Hist. ». 49, uses 'rostrum' for the promon- tory of an island in the Nile. 95 his story] i.e. how to give any account of hiin. 96] Warton observes that Hip- potades is not a common name of jEolus, and does not occur in Virgil. He quotes Homer, Od. x. 2 ; Ovid, Met. iv. 66i ; xiv. 86, &c., and passages from the Argonautua of Apoll. Rhodius and' Val. Flaccus. The epithet ' sage ' implies authority and responsibility. Dunster thinks there is a special allusion to ' sciret ' in Virg. ^n. i. 63, which is how- ever there qualified by the addition of 'jussus' and of 'fcedere certo.' Homer, Od. x. 21, represents ^'Eolus as acting by his own discre- tion (TrauE/iepat ^jy opv^fity Sc k' 48e- ^V"^')- Richardson understands ' sage ' of his foreknowledge of the weather; but this is a later and rationalised form of the story, and one which Milton as a poet is not likely to have chosen, since even when writing history he professes himself unwilling to give up the myths entirely, rejecting only those LYCIDAS. 67 'hat not a blast was from his dungeon strayed ; 'he air was calm, and on the level brine leek Panopfe with all her sisters played. t was that fatal and perfidious bark, Juilt in the eclipse, and rigged with curses dark, That sunk so low that sacred head of thine. Next Camus, reverend sire, went footing slow, lis mantle hairy and his bonnet sedge,' 100 fhich are ' impossible and absurd ' Hist, of Britain, c. t, and see irote, ffist. of Greece, vol. i. c. 17). 98 level brine] imitated bjr J. Varton in his Enthusiast (1740), the dolphin dancing o'er the level irine.' 99 Fanope] one of the fifty laughters of Nereus and Doris Hesiod, Theog. 250 foil.). The lame Ilayiiirij, denoting a wide view iver a calm expanse of water, is ignificant here, as also in Virg. "ieorg. i. 437, j^n. v. 240, 823. ipenser (apparently on his own au- hority) introduces her as an ' old lymph ' who kept the house of Pro- eus (F. Q. III. viii. 37). 100] See the inscription prefixed o the Cambridge Verses of 1638, navi in scopulum allisa, et rimis t ictufatiscente.' loi] Warton comp. Shaksp. Macbeth, iv. I — ' slips of yew, ^ 51ivered (cut) in the moon's eclipse,' ised by the witches for their incan- ations. The superstition about jclipses as portents of impending alinity is an old one (Virg. Georg. . 465 foil., and cf - P. L. i. 597 oil.); hence might naturally arise he belief that work done during an :clipse was likely to fail of success ; Dut there seems to be no evidence ;o show that the ancients actually so :^arded it. 102 sacred] consecrated by friend- ship, and therefore inviolable. Cf. Tennyson, In Memoriam, xiv. 10, 'the man I held as half divine.' 103 Camus] So in Spenser's Pastorall ^glogue the Thames, Humber, Severn, and other rivers mourn for their favourite bard Phil- lisides. Cowley, Complaint, I. 6, speaks of ' reverend Cam.' ' Sire ' is the usual mythological designa- tion of a river, as a presiding and protecting power. Cf Livy, ii. 10, ' Tiberine pater ; ' Virg. jSn. viii. 31. What follows is an adaptation of the natural features of the locality to the circumstances of mourning, but without the unpleasant associa- tions which appear in the 'nuda arva' and 'juncosas Cami paludes' of the 1st Elegy, //. 13, 89. That Milton had no great affection for Cambridge is clear (see on//. 34, 36), but this was not a fit occasion for expressing any such feeling. With ' footing slow ' Keightley compares P. Q. I. iii. 10, ' A damsel spied slow footing her before.' Cf Dun- combe, Ode to C. P. — ' where sedgy Cam Bathes with slow pace his acade- mic grove.' Those who are acquainted with the locality will recognise the appro- priateness of these descriptions ; it may not be out of place to mention the fact, that in a report addressed 68 LYCIDAS. 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, "S to the Cambridge Improvement Commissioners (Oct. 1871) by Mr. Ji B. Denton, 'the sluggish nature of the river' is expressly noted as one of the main difficulties in the way of the proposed operations. 105J In the 'figures dim' War- burton sees a reference to the ' fabu- lous traditions of the high antiquity of Cambridge.' Perhaps we need hardly look for any such precise ap- plication of the expression, which may very well be a part of the general picture of desolation. Dun- ster's remark that ' on sedge-leaves, when dried, there are certain dim, indistinct, and dusky streaks on the edge,' is worth noticing, and the ori- ginal reading ' 'scrauled ore ' seems to favour the probability of such an allusion. 106] For the legend of Hyacin- thus (to which Milton also alludes in the Ode on the Death of a Fair In/ant, 25 foil.) see Ovid, Met. X. 210 foil. ' Ipse suos gemitus foliis inscribit et Ai Ai Flos habet inscriptum' (z^. 215). Hence Theo- critus, X. 28, calls the flower a 7pairTi ucJ/civflos, aiadMoschus, Epit. Bioii. I. 6, exclaims vvv vdHivBe \d\ei Ti irck ypimiara. Cf. Drum- mond, £pit. vn Prince Henry — ' that sweet flower that bears In sanguine spots the tenour of our woe.' 107 reft] (O. E. refian, to rob) now commonly appears in its com- pound be-reave. The simple verb occurs nowhere else in Milton, but is frequently used by the Elizabe- than poets, e.g. Shakspere, Much Aclo,iv. I, AlPs Well, v. 3, &c.; Surrey, passim ; Spenser, F. Q. L iii. 36, 41, &c. Sir W. Ra- leigh, Cynthia, says of the moon, ' she tliat from the sun reaves power and might.' pledge] = offspring, considered as a security of conjugal fidelity. Pignus in this sense is very com- mon, cf. Propert. iv. xi. 73, 'com- munia pignora natos.' Milton has 'pignoracara,' £/i5f. iv. 42. War- ton quotes from the Rime Spirituali \ of Angelo Grillo * mio caro pegno^ \ Cf P. L. ii. 818 ; Ode At a Solemn \ Musick, I. I; Spenser, F. Q. i. x.4 ; Bacon, Essay on Marriage, 'their dearest pledges ; ' Lord Lyttelton, on the death of Lady L. — ' Nor did she crown our mutual flame With pledges dear, and vrith a father's tender name.' 108] Neve in his Cursory Re- marks on some English Poets (1789) observes that ' as Dante has made Cato of Uttca keeper of the gates of Purgatorio, Milton has here in return placed St. Peter in company with Apollo, Triton, &c.,' and that ' for the intrusion respecting the clergy of his time the earliest Italians have set plentiful example.' See for instance St. Peter's animad- versions upon the degeneracy of his successors in Paradiso, Canto 27, which closely resembles the present passage. Dante does not however make Cato the ' keeper of the gates' (that office being given to an angel, Purgat. ix. 78, 105), but the guar- dian of certain wandering spirits outside the place itself For the charge of irreverence urged against Milton for his alleged confiision of things sacred and profane see Intro- duction, p. 22. LYCIDAS. c- — ■ 69 The pilot of the Galilean lake ; ''' Two massy keys he bore of metals twain — The golden opes, the iron shuts amain. He shook his mitred locks, and stern bespake ; 109 Pilot] is an addition to the gospel narrative (Luke v. 3), where there is no intimation that Peter acted in that capacity towards the others. He was doubtless the steersman of his own ship, a sense in which ' pilot ' is often used (P. L. i. 204 ; 5. A. 198). In /. 1044 of the latter poem the ' pilot ' and ' steersmate ' are distinguished. no] Originally from Matt. xvi. 19, where the number of keys is not mentioned. From the earliest times St. Peter was represented with two keys ; hence P. Fletcher in his Locusts (quoted by Todd) says of the Pope — ' In his hand two golden keys he beares, To open heaven and hell and shut againe ; ' and in the Purple Island, vii. 421, Dichostasis (Schism) is invested with the same authority. Dante (Inferno, xxvii.) makes Pope Boniface say — ' Lo ciel poss' io serrare e disser- rare, Come tu sai ; pero son due le chiavi.' In the ode In Quintum Nwembris Milton sjpeaks merely of 'Apo- stolicse custodia clavis.' The dis- tinction between the two metals — one denoting the value of the bene- fits secured by admission, the other stern severity in exclusion^is our poet's own ; in the parallel passage of Dante, Purg. ix. 120 foil., both a golden and a silver key are used by the angel to open the gate. The Italian proverb quoted by Mr. Bowles, ' Con le chiavi d' oro s' apre ogna porta,' alludes to the influ- ence of money, and has therefore nothing to do with the ' power of the keys.' in amain] = 'firmly,' lit. ' with might,' from O. E. magen, a de- rivative of magan, 'to be strong.' For the prefix a see on /. 27. 112] It would be unfair to con- strue this admission of the mitre into a precise statement of Milton's religious views at this period, or to suppose with Warburton that ' it sharpened his satire to have the prelacy condemned by one of their own order.' As St. Peter here speaks with episcopal authority, he is made to wear the distinctive dress of his order. So in the 3rd Elegy (1626) on the Bishop of Winchester, the glorified prelate is represented with Ihe ' infula 'or mitre upoiL his Tiea3~(Z \S). In the Reason of Church Government, c. vi. (1641) Milton indeed uses very different language, when he speaks of 'the haughty prelates with their foiked iiaitres, fhe"T5adge of schismj^]^; but fhe"events'of the three intervening years had produced a considerable change in his attitude towards the clergy, or at least had emboldened him in the expression of opinions, which had been long lurking in his mind, and of which the present in- vective is perhaps the earliest inti- mation. bespake] here used absolutely, as in P. R. i. 43 ; Ode Nat. 76. Cf. Spens. F. Q. I. ii. 32, ' he thus bespake.' The prefix ie- is the same asij/ ( = ' near ' or ' to '), with the addition of the person ad- dressed. P. L. iv. 1005, ' Gabriel LYCIDAS. How well could I have spared for thee, young swam, -^ 2now of such as, for their bellies' sake, -^ Ilreep, and intrude, and climb into the fold !«- 115 Df other care they little reckoning make, A^ . . thus bespake the fiend.' At the jresent day it usually = 'speak "br,' i.e. 'secure beforehand,' and iometimes 'declare' or 'show,' as nCowper's Task, ii. 702, 'His head . . bespoke him;' Poems by Jane Taylor, 'the cheerful chimes be- speak the hour of prayer.' 113-131] Three grounds of com- plaint are here alleged — (l) the covetousness and moral corruption of the clergy, (2) their false or im- perfect doctrine, (3) another evil, distinct fiom the former, but not expressly defined, which is most probably to be understood of the increasing perversions to Romanism so frequent at this period. (See Ap- pendix II.). H4 enow] printed 'anow' in ed. 164s (in the MS. 'anough'). It is spelt both ways in the Areopagi- tica (1644). So ' emong ' and ' among,' &c. In Shaksp. Merck, of Venice, ii. 2, we find ' aleven' for ' eleven,' (see Dyce adloc). ioT their bellies' sake] Cf. Ezek. xxxiv. 2,3. On what follows War- ton remarks that Milton has copied from Spenser's 5th Eclogue the sentiments of Piers the Protestant shepherd, which are quoted at full length in the Animadversions on the Remonstrant's Dejence (\(>^i). Our author's prose works abound with specimens of similar language ; e.g. in the Apology for Smectymnuus he speaks of 'the prelate, who being a pluralist may under one surplice hide four benefices ; ' and many similar passages might be quoted. Compare also the following lines, addressed to the clergy in the tragedy of BapHstes, translated from the Latin of G. Buchanan in 1637, and sometimes, but without sufficient reason, attributed to Milton — ' Then like dumb dogs that bark not here, you fret And fume about your sheepcotes ; but the wolves Which of you drive away ? The wolves, said I ? You are the wolves yourselves, that flay your flocke. Clothed with their wool^ their milk don't slack your thirst, Their flesh your hunger. Thus yourselves you feed, But not your flock.' 115] Cf. P. L. iv. 193. T. Becon, chaplain to Cranmer (about 1540), says in his Policy of War— ' They come into their benefices non per ostium sed aliunde, for the desire of filthy lucre' (St. John x. i). By intrusion into the fold Milton does not imply absence or invalidity of orders ; his matured views concern- ing a minister's credentials were afterwards clearly set forth in the treatise on Christian Doctrine, c. 29, 31. These are 'spiritual knowledge and sanctity of life,' to be tested by previous trial, and the choice is to belong to the people collectively ; a mode of proceeding which Hooker (Eccl. Pol. vii. 14) argues to be a mere pretence, since the eldei-s 'allow not their own previous choice to, be set aside by their [the people's] disapprobation ; ' and he ludicrously compares it to the way of 'nurses with infants, whose mouths they besmear witl\ the backside of the spoon, as though they had fed them, when they themselves devour the food.' 116, 117] Cf. Becon, Jewel of LYCIDAS. Than how to scramble at the shearers' feast, ^ And shove away the worthy bidden guest, d- '• Bhnd mouths ! that scarce themselves know how to hold *" A sheep-hook, or have learned aught else the least c^- i: 71 yay — ' Our spiritual men are led with no care of feeding Christ's flock. . . Christ's threefold J'asce is turned into the Jews' double Talk. They feed nothing' except them- selves, they toll and catch what- soever they may.' 118 the worthy bidden guest] Matt. xxii. 8. Milton here allows the principle of emolument for ministerial services, since ' the shearers' feast ' is the due reward of honest shepherds ; latterly his opinions on this subject were some- what modified. In the Treatise en- titled The Likeliest Means to remme Hirelings and in the Christian Doc- trine, while barely admitting that ' the labourer is worthy of his hire,' he restricts it to voluntary contribu- tions, adding that ' it is more de- sirable to serve gratuitously,' and to support themselves (if need be) ' by the exercise of some trade or call- ing' i^C.D. c. 31). r 119] The phrase ' blind mouths ' may be illustrated from the classical usage of transferring to one bodily sense the functions of another ; e.g. Soph. (Ed. T.yjl, rvip^hs TO. Sra, Val. Flacc. ii. 461, 'csecus clamor,' Plin. jV. ff, xxxvii. 18, ' surdus color,' &c. The sh e pherds a re emphatically termed ' m onths, ' fi rst for their (jfattu ii'V, aeEond l y m reter- mice-ttrlhdr preaching. As regards the former cf.,Hesiod, Theog. 26, where the Heliconian swains are said to be yaffrepes olov, ' nothing but bellies.' Cf yaffrepis apyci ('lazy gluttons'), St. Paul to Titus, i. 12 ; Pliny, JV. H. ix. 17, , 30, ' proceres gulae ' ( ' noble glut- tons '). Hogg (1694) translates the present passage ' O caci ventres, qui vix comprendere dextra Pastorale pedum, aut aliquid didicere, &c.' Next by a bold figure of speech the ' mouths ' are said ' to hold a sheep- hook,' with which Newton aptly compares Hor. Sat. 11. ii. 39 — ' Porrectnm magno magnum spectare catino Vellem ait Harpyiis gula digna rapacibus ;' also P. L. V. 711, ' the eternal eye ...saw. ..and smiling said! As to the relative importance of preach- ing, Milton places it foremost among ministerial duties, even above the administration of sacra- ments (C D. c. 29). ToaPimlan 'a non-preaching ministfy'^was a Tcrymg evil, and eveiT'James ITat thirrHfeinptiJn'Court Conference of 1604 gives his opinion tfiat ' a preaching ministry is best,' though he orders ' that praying be attended to as well. ' At the same Conference the daily use of the Book of Homi- lies, originally set forth in 1562 to remedy the defects of the clergy on this head (see Preface to Homilies), was strictly enjoined ; and some twenty years later the Kin^s ■Letters were issued for the express purpose of restraining extravagances in the pulpit (Fuller, Church Hist. X. vii. 4). 120 sheep-hook] KopiJi'Ti, Theocr. Id. vii. 43; ' pedum;' Virg. Eel. V. 88. Cf. Treatise on Reformation in England, B. ii., ' the pastorly rod and sheep-hook of Christ' (Psalm xxiii. 4). Of unlearned ministers Becon remarks in his Pre- face, 'They leap into the pulpits 72 LYCIDAS. That to the faithful herdman's art belongs ! -^' What recks it them ? What need they ? They are sped f ^ And, when they list, their lean and flashy songs J^ without shame, when they under- stand not what pulpit matters mean. The^^teadiJjfiibreJiiey learn. ' Mil- ton's eariier opinions were in favour of a learned clergy, as might have been expected from the circum- stances of his education. In a letter to the elder Gill from Cambridge, 1628, he deplores the ignorance of those ' who without any acquaint- ance with criticism or philosophy engage in the study of theology' (Epist. Fam. 3). But in the Like- liest Way &'c. (1651) he contemp- tuously designates all such learning as ' scholastical trash,' adding that every requisite ' may be easily at- tained, and by the meanest capaci- ties, if they seek the guidance of the Holy Spirit,' an opinion which is further developed in the Christian Doctrine, c. 31. 121 herdman's] ( ' heardraians ' in the MS.), here = 'shepherd's.' The originaljQeaimi^is.siinpljt-ione wKSTendFOTwatches ' (G. Heide, /«Vfe«, ""ficTy either lEeep or larger cattle, and the modern distinction was not always observed. Spenser, F. Q. VI. xi. 37, 39, uses ' heards ' and ' heardgroomes ' for keeper of sheep, though he elsewhere {id. ix. 10) makes a' difference — 'ne was there Aear(i,ne was there shepheard's swayne. ' In the Bible the spelling is always 'herdman' (Gen. xiii. 7 ; xxvi. 20 ; Amos i. I ; vii. 14, &c.) 122 recks i^hem] (O. 'care.') Cf. S»2»j, 401 Confessio Amaniis, B. v recketh not.' The verb is generally personal, as in P. L. ii. 50 ; ix. 173; Spens. Ed. vii. 34, 'thou rekes much of thy swincke (toil).' they are sped] i, e. ' are provided E. rec, Cower, 'him for ' (Keightley). So in the Mer- chant of Venice, ii. 9, the Prince of Arragon, reading his fortune on the scroll in the .silver casket, finds the words ' Begone, you are sped.' In Judges v. 30 the mother of Sisera, awaiting the return of her son whom she supposed victorious, exclaims ' Have they not sped ? ' The same sense of the word lingers in the ex- pression ' God speed you.' Of the luxurious habits of prelates Milton speaks in the Apology for Smectym- imus, ' They let hundreds of fami- lies famish in one diocese, while they themselves enjoy that wealth that would furnish all those dark places with ample supply.' 123 when they list] i.e. even this miserable pittance is doled out to the flock only at such time as is convenient to the shepherds. That the ' lean and flashy songs ' repre- sent unsound oral instruction is plain from the context ; but in the pastoral prototype singing and piping are the recreation, not the business of shepherds, and the meaning ought simply to be that the spiritual pastors amuse them- selves instead of tending their flocks. In that case however there would be no point in the allusion to the wretdied quality of the music, which could in no way siffect the welfare of the sheep. The con- fusion of metaphor thus involved needs simply stating to be apparent; the true analogy lies in the im- healthiness of pasture, to which a sudden transition is made in /. 126. flashy] Todd quotes from Mil- ton's Colasterion, in which he calls his opponent's ailments ' Hor flashi- est, the fustiest that ever corrupted such an unswilled hogshead,' Diy- LYCIDAS. 73 Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw ji*' The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed, V 125 But, swollen with wind and the rank mist they draw, jf-x. den, Transl. of Penius, Sat. i., has 'flashy wit,' and Bacon, Essay on Studies, says 'distilled books are flashy things. ' 124] Imitated from Virg. Eel. iii. 26, ' strident! miserum stipula dis- perdere carmen.' Plumptre trans- lates (keeping the alliteration) — 0( Ka\ajua7s, eSr* i.v 7* 46e?tjovTi, ttowj- pais Kov Milton speaks of the ' sober livery' of twilight. 149 amarantliTis] (i^&favTos), the unfading (i Peter i. 4), an em- blem of immortality. It is placed in Eden 'fast by the tree of life,' P. L. iii. 354. 150] Keats, Endymion, B. iv., ' brimming the water-lily cups with tears.' ' Daffodil ' is properly ' aflbdil ' from M^iZiKas through Med. Latin 8o LYCIDAS. To strew the laureate herse where Lycid lies. — For so, to interpose a little ease, Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise ; -I' Ay me ! whilst thee the shores and sounding seas affodillus ; the origin of the d is doubtful. It is really a species of narcissus. The form 'daffodilly' occurs in the Song to Pan in Fletcher's Faithful Shepherdess ; Spenser, F. Q. Itl. iv. 29 ; £cl. iv.6o; 'daffadowndillies' in Ed. iv. 140. 151] 'The herse -was a platform, decorated with black hangings, and containing an effigy of the deceased. Laudatory verses were attached to it with pins, wax, or paste.' (Stanley, Memorials of Westminster Abbey, p. 341.) Cf. King's Elegy on Doniie — ■ Each quill can drop his tributary verse. And pin it like the hatchments to the herse.' For the word see Appendix I. laureate] 'decked with laurel' (kmreatus), cf. /. i. Plmnptre's rendering, ta^vivav, would mean ' made of laurel ' {laiireus), a sense in which ' laureate ' is sometimes used, e.g. 'laureat wreath,' Sonnet xvi. 19. Laureatus is applied both to persons and things, but usually to the former, as a mark of honour ; hence the title 'poeta laureatus,' first officially conferred on B. Jon- son in 1619. Lycid] Cf. Keats, Sonnet -sX. — ' Of fair-haired Milton's eloquent distress, And all his gentle love for Lycid drowned.' The older poets were fond of short- ening classical names thus. Chau- cer has Creysyd, Pandare, Adon, &c. ; in Surrey we find Aige, Ide, Sichee, &c. ; in Spenser, Archimag, Acidale, Melibee, &c. Milton does not so frequently avail himself of this license, excepting in a few commoner forms, such as Dian, Hecat", Ind, &c. ; otherwise the name 'Erymanth' va. Arcades, 100, is almost a solitary instance. 152] 'For' connects this line with tie preceding mention of the hearse of Lycidas ; 'for let us sup- pose his body to be lying here before us, though really it is &r away.' The structure of the next sentence (placing a semicolon after ' surmise ') must be as follows : ' Let our thoughts dally, &c. [prin- cipal verb], while the seas wash thee far away, where'er thy bones are hurled — whether beyond the Hebrides (where thou visitest, &c.), or whether thou sleepest, &c. (where the great vision looks towards Na- mancos and Bayona).' On the per- son addressed in /. 163 see note there. 153 dally] i.e. ' play ' or ' trifle,' akin to G. tdndeln and dahlen, to trifle. Cf Shaksp. Hamkt, v. 2, 'you do but dally.' In the Apo- cryphal Book of Wisdom, xii. 26, God's judgments upon the Canaanites are spoken of as 'that correction wherein he dallied with them . . . as children without the use of rea- son.' Skeat connects dcUly with M.E. dalien, "tc be loolish. ' surmise] here=' fancy,' usually 'conjecture.' 154 Ay me!] See on /. 56. Scott, Critical Essays, notices the following lines as an instance of poetical imagination of the right kind, which 'should not produce impossible fictions, but explore real existence, and select from it cir- cumstances as occasion requires.' LYCIDAS. 8i Wash far away,-^where'er thy bones are hurled, Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides, Where thou peih i'vp';Minfi°rY]ir ivhHminj^ tidr Visitest thd^o ttom dftKe monstrous world : Or whether thou, to Our moist vows denied, ^eepfi^t by the fable of Bellems old, the shores — wash, &c.] This ex- TO'ession, though strange, is not the iesult of oversight, since Milton de- iiiberately substituted ' shoars ' for ' floods ' in his MS. The obvious meaning is that the corpse visited different parts of the coast in its wanderings, and was not out at sea all the time. The word shore does however literally mean ' that which divides the water from the land,' and therefore includes the portion sometimes covered by the tide. So Celsus defines litiis, 'quousque maximus fluctus a mari pervenit.' Newton cites Virg. ^n. vi. 362, ' Nunc me fluctus habet, versantque in litore venti,' which is a case in point only on the assumption that the latter clause cannot mean ' cast up on the shore ; ' a' sense which Heyne and Conington both adopt, comparing Eur. Hec. 28, (tei^noi & cTf' OKToiSj iAAoT* iv irSyTou trd\tfi. (In with the ablative occasionally denotes motion, as in Phosdrus, Fab. V. i. 15, 'in conspectu meo audet venire. ') 155 far away] here (according to Nevrton) ='a^a great distance,' not to it. Keightley notes the ex- pression as ' ambiguous. ' It pro- bably means ' far from the scene of the shipwreck.' 156 whether, &c.] Cf. Ode on Death of a Fair Infant., 38 foil.; Aristoph. Nubes, 269 foil., referred to on /. 50. 157] The first reading, 'hum- ming,' for ' whelming,' was inappro- priate to the case of a dead man, who could not hear the sound of 155 160 the waves. But Shakspcre com- mits the same error when he makes Pericles (Hi. i) apostrophise his dead queen with the words, 'And humming water must o'erwhelm ' thy corpse.' Warton compares Virg. Ceorg. iv. 365, where Arif- taeus, in his mother's ocean cave, is said to be ' ingenti motu stupefactus aquarum. ' 158 monstrous] i.e. ' fiiU of monsters,' the proper sense of the Latin ending -osus, as in saxostis^ &c. Monstruosus itself, however,, never bears this meaning, e g. 'monstniosa bestia,' &c.; and Mil- ton elsewhere employs ' monstrous ' in its usual acceptation, P. L. ii. 625 ; Comus, 605, &c. Here he seems to have remembered Hor. Od. I. iii. 18, and Virg. ^n. vi. 729. Cf. Hem. Od. iii. 158, in- yoK-iyrea tt&vtov. 159 moist vows] i.e. 'vows ac- companied with tears ' (Warton). Vota humida would be a correct expression in Latin, though it does not seem to occur. Martial, Epigr. X. Ixxviii. 8, has 'udogaudio,' mean- ing 'joy mingled With weeping.' Plumptre's translation, iypois ti- Xois, is questionable. 160 fable of Bellerus] ==' fabled abode of Bellerus' (sedes fabulosa) ; something like 'fabulae Manes,' Hor. Od. I.iv. 16 (for Manes fabulosi), ' the ghosts of olden story.' The name is coined from Bellerium, now the Land's End. Cf. Cowley, F/an- tarum Liber, vi., 'Belerii extremis a comibus Orcadas usque ; ' Pope, Windsor Forest, 315, 'From old 82 LYCIDAS. .Where the great Vision of the Looks toward Namancos and Look homeward, Angel, now , Belerium to the northern main.' The original reading was 'Corineus,' whom Milton mentions in his His- tory of Britain, B. i. , as a giant who came over with Brute the Trojan, and from whom Cornwall took its name, being 'assigned to him by lot,' or, as Drayton says (Polyolb. 1st Song), given him for his victory over Gogmagog the Cornish giant. The change of reading may have been made for rhythmical reasons, as ' Bellerus ' runs more smoothly in the line than ' Corineus.' A writer in the Edinburgh Pe- ■uiew, 1 82 1, has the following re- marks on Milton's treatment of early British legends : — ' Milton was perhaps the first who dared dis- avow his belief of the legends which for centuries had been placed at the head of the early history of England. [See Hiit. of Britain, B. i.] Yet he deigns to relate them, because the very belief in them was characteristic of a nation ; because they might contain some traces of ancient tradition, and be an evidence of manners, if not of events" ; and lastly as themes for the poet, on which he had himself once medi- tated to build a monument to the glory of his country. ' [See Epist. ad Mamum, I. 78; Epit. Dam. I. 162.] 161] The 'guarded (fortified) Mount ' is a steep rock opposite Marazion near Penzance, accessible from the land at low water. On it are the ruins of a fortress and a mo- nastery, with a church dedicated to St. Michael ; at the summit is a craggy seat called St. Michael's chair, in which several apparitions of the archangel are reported to have been seen ; hence the ' great Vision ' in the text. Carew, in his guarded Mount Bayona's hold : — and melt with ruth, Survey of Cornwall, alludes to the Mount as a favourite resort of pil- grims, quoting the lines — ' Who knows not Mighel's Mount and Chaire, The pilgrim's holy vaunt ?' Cf. Spenser, Eel. vii. 41 — ' St. Michael's Mount who does not know, That guards the westerne coast ? ' 162] The question as to the lo- cality of Namancos puzzled com- mentators not a little, until Todd (1809) referred to Mercator's Atlas of 1636, in which the place is clearly marked rather to the east of Cape Finisterre, with the Castle of Bayona on the south. Naman- cos also appears in Ojea's map of Galicia (1650), but seems to have been afterwards omitted, as it is not found In Nolin's map (1762), nor in that of Lopez (1784), nor in the Atlas N'ocional de Espana of 1838. Todd in his edition of i8oi had suggested Numantia, and Dun- 6ter, adopting this view, took Bayo- na to be the French Bayonne ; but it is plain that ^o one could • look towards ' both these places at once in a direct line from St. Michael's Mount. Cf. Drayton, Polyolb. 23rd Song — ' Then Comwal creepeth out into the western maine. As lying in her eye she pointeth still at Spaine.' 163] The obvious and striking contrast between the • look home- ward ' of this line and the looking 'towards Namancos, &c.' of the one preceding clearly justifies War- ton's supposition that St. Michael, and not Lycidas, is the person here LYCIDAS. S3 And, O ye dolphins, waft the hapless youth. addressed. Still, the arguments in favour of the contrary interpretation ought to be fairly stated. It has been objected that if a full stop be placed at ' surmise,' the present line is required to complete the sentence begiiming at 'whilst thee, &c.,' which would otherwise be unfinished, and of which Lycidas is the subject throughout ; and that, even with the semicolon there (see on /. 152), St. Michael's apparition is merely introduced parenthetically, as part of a local description, and never directly apostrophised. This is perhaps strictly true ; but a poet is not always bound by the strict laws of grammatical construction, and the sudden turn of address from Lycidas to the archangel (who is now a prominent figure in the description) strikes powerfully upon the reader's imagination. Another argument (which at first sight appears plausible) is founded upon the coincidence of the present passage and of //. 183 foil, in structure, language, and sentiment, with certain lines in the 1st Eclogue of Sannazaro (cwr. 1520), in which a drowned man is thus addressed by his mourning friends } ' At tu, sive altum felix colis asthera, seu jam " Elysios inter Manes, &c. . . . Aspice nos mitisque veni, tu numen aquarum Semper eris, semper latum piscanti- bus omen.' But even admitting, as we surely may (cf. especially /. 184), that Milton had thftabove passage gene- rally in view, we need not assume that he copied his original with such exactness, as to make the sub- ject of his ' look homeward ' corre- spond with that of ' aspice ' in San- nazaro. We do not however agree with Warton's further objection, that an address to the departed spirit would be in itself inappro- priate. A few instances out ot many will suffice to show that the sentiment is both natural and com- . mon. Spenser in his Elegy on Sir P. Sidney invokes the ' happy sprite ' to ' look down awhile ' upon his friends ; Donne makes a similar appeal to the soul of Lord Harrington, and Habington en- treats the spirit of George, Earl of Surrey, to ' look down with pro- pitious eyes and $mile upon this sacrifice. ' The language of Cowley in his Death of Hervey still more closely resembles that of Milton, when he imagines 'the glorious saints' as beholding their friends ' with holy pity ; ' and Voung, in his Night Thoughts, says of the dead, ' They live . . . and from an eye of tenderness let heavenly pity faU.' TUth] Cf. Chaucer, Troilus and Creyseyde, 'have routh upon my pain^;' Sidney, Arcadia, B. i. Eel. I, 'thou my dog whose ruth (pity for the flock) and valiant might, &c.' Primarily the word means ' sorrow,' from ' rue ' (O. E. hreow- an, G. reuen). Cf. B. Jonson, Epitaph on his Daughter, ' her pa- rents' ruth.' 'Pity and ruth' are joined in Milton's 9th Sonnet, I 8, and in Spenser, F. Q. I. vi. 12. For the verb in i's secondary sense cf. Wyatt, 51st Psalm, 'rue on me. Lord;' Watson (1593), 41st ioBwrf, ' rew and pittie my vexations.' ' Ruthful ' occurs in Shaksp. i ffen. VJ. v. 5, and elsewhere ; ' rueful ' and ' ruthless ' still survive. 164] Richardson refers to Pau- sanias' statement about Palsemon, ' that a dolphin took him up and laid his body on the shore at Co- Tii\th, where he was deified ' (cf. 84 LYCIDAS. L Weep no more, woful shepherds, weep no more, For Lycidas, your sorrow, is not dead, i6S //. 183-185). Stories of the amia- bility of dolphins were common in ancient times. Besides the familiar legend of Arion (Herod, i. 24 ; Ov. Fast. ii. 105 foil), we have the one quoted from Apion by Gellius, Nod. Att. vii. 8, of a dolphin who carried a boy on his back daily from Baiae to Puteoli, and on the death of the boy pined away with grief. Pliny, Nat. Hist. ix. 8, describes the animal as 'maxime homini amicum' (cf. Arist. De Animalibtis, ix. 35), and especially notices its care of its own species, when dead or wounded. Some of these tales about dolphins may (as Liddell and Scott suppose .r. v. SeAiJifs) be due to the fact of their playing in stormy weather, and so warning mariners of danger ; the ' curved back' (Ov. /. c. 137) might sug- gest the idea of carrying a burden. Cf. Sl^ksp. Ant. and Cleop. V. 2 — ' his delights Were dolphin-like ; they showed his back above The element they lived in.' 165-185] ' The common conclu- sion of a funeral elegy is the beati- fication of the deceased ' (Scott, Critical Essays). Here the classi- cal apotheosis forms an additional feature in the description (see on /. 183, and the concluding lijifsof the Efit. Damonis). What foUqws may be compared with Spenser, Eel. xi. 169 foil.— 'Dido is dead, but unto heaven bent ; . . . She reignes a goddess now^ among the saintes ; . . . There drinckes she nectar with ambrosia mixt, &c.' Cf. Watson, Eclogue on the Death of Meliiaus (Sir F. Walsingham), 1590— ' Injustlie judge we Melibceus' death. As though his worth was buried in his fate ; Now MeliboEus in comparelesse place Drinkes nectar, eates divine am- brosia.' Contrast the sentiment of Moschus, Bpit. Bionis, 112-141, of a portion of which we offer the following paraphrase : ' Alas ! the herbs wi- ther and grow again ; while we the mighty and the wise, all speechless in the tomb, sleep the long endless slumber that knows no waking (drep/toya viyypiTov vtrvov). . . . But tune thou thy lay before the queen of Hades, if haply thy music may win a guerdon for thee, and thou mayest return to earth once more.' On the other hand, see Virgil's apotheo- sis of Caesar, under the name of Daphnis, Eel. v. 56 foil., only ob- serving that the glory which he reserves for an extraordinary hero, Milton, as a Christian, claims for all pious souls. For 'wofiil,' ap- plied to persons, cf. Sidney's Ar- cadia, B. ii., 'the woefiilGynecia;' Daniel, Civil Wars, ' How many woefiil maidens left to moum ! ' 166 your sorrow] i.e. the object of your sorrow, vester dolor. Cf. Propert. I. xiv. 18, ' Ilia etiam duris mentibus (potest) esse dolor.' So mea desideria, 'my love,' Cic. .Sptfh Earn. • nai iea.i'\,(T^ Death 0/ Fair In- fant, I. 29. Warton quotes from the Lay of Clorinda (attributed to Spenser) the lines beginning 'Ah no, it is not dead ne can it die.' Cf. Epitaph on Sir W. Drury, by Bamabe Ritche, in the Paradise of Dayniie Devises, 1579 : — LYCIDAS. Sunk though h e pg beneath the jvatery floor. So sinks the^y-star And yet anon tHel)cean~Fed, 'rs nis drooping nead,~ And tricks his beams, and with^new-spangled_ore 8S 170 ' Your Drury is not dead ! He liveth he amongst the blessed route. . . . Wherefore, you worthy wightes, leave of to wayle.' 167 floor] (G. Flur) is any level surface (aqtior). Cf. Arcadia, B. i., 'the morning did strew roses and violets in the heavenly floor.' Schiller, in his poem entitled Das Ideal und das Leben, has 'des Lichtes Fluren,' 'fields of light.' 168] The 'day-star' may pos- sibly, as Newton thinks, be the sun, which is called the ' diurnal star ' in P. L. X. 1069. Cf. Pindar, Olymp. i. 9; fviiKeff aAi'ou aK6Tiei iXKo SaK- itv6Tc^ov. '. .iarpov ; Ovid, Fast, vi. 718, where 'stella Serena' is said of Phoebus ; also Met. i. 429 ; TibuU. II. i. 47, where ' sidus ' is similarly used. The chief advan- tage of this interpretation would be to save Milton from the astronomi- cal blunder involved in making the same planet a morning and an even- ing star in one day ; but here, as in /. 30 (see note), he is most likely to have followed the usage of the ancients, who commonly speak of Lucifer and Hesperus in this way. Catullus, Ixii. 34, describes the evening star as returning next morn- ing, ' mutato nomine ; ' Horace, Od. II. ix. 10, measures a night's duration by the rising and setting of Hesperus ; aaid Virgil, Eel. viii. 17 and 30, makes Lucifer and Hes- perus appear during the same day. Moreover, the present passage is evidently copied from Virg.^«. viii. 589, ' Qualis ubi Oceani perfiisus Lucifer unda, &c.,' compared with the original in Horn. //. v. 6, thus translated by Lord Derby : — ' like autumn's star, that brightest shines When newly risen from his ocean bath.' Compare also the closely similar language in Giles Fletcher's Christ s Triumph after Death, II. 89 foil. — ' So fairest Phosphor, the bright moming-star. But newly washed in the green element. Before the drowsy night is half aware, Shooting his flaming locks with dew besprent. Springs lively up into the orient.' 169 anon] =in one (moment), immediately. The word is com- mon in Shakspere ; see Especially the scene at the Boar's Head Ta- vern, I Hen. IV. ii. 4. It occurs twice only in the authorised version of the Bible, Matt. xiii. 20, Mark i- 3°- repairs] 'refreshes,' from repa- rare, to get n fr2sh supply in place of what is lost or damaged. Hor. Od. IV. vii. 13, 'Damna tamen celeres ?-^a?'a«^caelestia lunae.' The line in Gray's Bard, I. 137 (of the sun), 'to-morrow he repairs his golden flood,' quoted by Warton, is probably a reminiscence of Milton. 170 tricks] sets in order, adorns. Cf. // Penseroso, 123 ; Shaksp. Merry W. of Windsor, iv. 4, ' trick- ings for our fairies.' Todd on // Pens. I. c. quotes from Sandys' Travels, B. i. (of a Turkish bride), ' they trick her in her richest or- naments.' (On the etymology and 86 LYCIDAS. ^■ Flames in the forehead of themoming sky : / So Lycldas sunkjbw^but mountedSgh^^ ^ ThroiSgr die-deai-mig]lt of Him fhat walked the waves, Where, other groves and other streams along, With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves. j^X^ 175 senses of the word see Appen- dix I.) spangled] from Gaelic sfang, a metal plate. Cf, Spenser, F. Q. IV. xi. 45, 'glittering spangs.' It is rather a favourite word with Milton (P. L. vii. 384, Od. Nat. 21, Psalm cxxxvi. 35, &c.); like tinsel (Comus, 877) and others, it has now lost somewhat of its dignity. See Trench, Study of Words, p. 52 ; Eng. Past and Present, p. 130. ' Spangled heavens ' occurs in Addi- son's well-known paraphrase of the , 19th Psalm. ore] =' golden radiance,' as in Keats' Endymion, B. ii., 'a golden splendour with quivering ore.'' For ' ore ' in the distinctive sense of ' gold ' (probably owing to an erro- neous derivation from auruTri) cf Conms, 932 ; Shaksp. Hamlet, iv. I, 'like some ore among a mineral of metals base.' It is applied to other metals, iron or copper, in P. L. xi. 570. The word properly signifies a veiii of metal in the mine (Dutch aare, G. ader). P. Fletcher, Purple Island, ix.251, has the line — ' And round about was writ in golden ore,'' 171] Crashaw, Weeper, st. 2, ' Whatever makes Heaven's fore- head fine.' Tennyson, Pelleas and Etarre, ' the virgin forehead of the dawn.' Cf. 'the eyelids of the day,' supr. /. 26, and see note there. 173] See Malth. xiv. 22-23. Warton aptly observes that this is 'a designation of our Saviour by a miracle which bears an immediate reference to the subject of the poem.' 174 other giroves, &c.] i.e. in another and a better world. Todd comp. Drummond's Maliades, I. 17s— ' other hills and forrests, other towers. Amazed thou find'st excelling our poor bowers.' Cf. Italian poems, Canzotie, I. 8, '■altri rivi, altri]l&\ t' aspettan, &c., i. e. the streams and shores of his native land, as contrasted with those of Italy. along] = beside, amidst, without the usual idea of motion. So in the Circumcision Ode, I. 4, ' sung your joy the clouds along. ' 175] Cf. Ode on Fair Infant, 49, 'thy nectared head.' Nectar with ambrosia is said to have been used by way of ablution to preserve im- mortality, as well as for the food and drink of the gods. Horn. //. xiv. 1 70 ; xix. 39. In Comus, 836 foil., the deification of Sabrina is effected by ' nectared- lavers ' and 'ambrosial oils.' oozy locks] Since ' ooze ' pro- perly means moisture of any kind (O.E. ivos, 'juice'), it would be possible to understand ' oozy ' of the effect of the nectar, according to the common classical figure called prolepsis ; like Virgil's ' spicula lucida tergunt,' i.e. 'they scour their lances so as to make than bright.' But as the word is gene- rally, if not invariably, used of slime or mud, it probably here re- fers to the sea water which is washed away by the nectar, and may be compared with Horn. //. xiv. /. c. LYCIDAS. 87 And hearsthejinexpressive nuptial song, Tn theJjkst-yngdomilmieFof joy~^d love. There entertain him all the saints ^oveT ) In solemn troops and sweet societies, That sing, and singing in their glory move, And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes. Now, Lycidas, the s hepherd s weep no more ; Henceforth thou art the Geniui of TEe" shore. 180 AtJ/uara ircicTO Ka6^f>Ei'. Cf. Pope, Odyssey, iv. 543, ' His oozy limbs.' 176 and hears] originally ' list'n- ing,' with an ellipse of the preposi- tion, common in Elizabethan writers. Cf. Shaksp. Macbeth, ii. 2, 'listen- ing their fear. ' unezpressive] not to be express- ed, ' inenarrabile carmen, ' Od. Ad Patrem, 37. Cf. Od. Nat. 116. Shakspere has 'plausive,' 'insup- pressive,' 'directive,' &c., used passively for ' plausible,' &c. New- ton instances ' the unexpressive she' {As You Like It, m. 2). The grammatical terms ' derivative,' 'adjective,' &c., are also cases in point. For the ' nuptial song ' Newton refers to Rev. xiv. 3, 4 ; the reference should rather be Rev. xix. 6, 7, the>'Song at ' the marriage supper of the Lamb. ' 177] This line was omitted, pro- bably by a printer's error, in the edition of 1638 ; it is inserted in Milton's handwriting in his own copy of that edition, preserved' in the Cambridge University Library. 'Meek,' i.e. peaceful, is a sflitablc epithet of ' kingdoms,' and need not, as Thyer supposes, be referred by transposition to ' joy and love.' Nor is this interpretation supported by the passage which Newton quotes from P. L. ix. 318, where the epi- thet 'domestic' belongs quite natu- rally to Adam as a loving spouse, and does not require to be taken with ' care.' 178] Warlon's remark that 'even here Milton does not make Lycidas an angel,' ought not to have been used by way of argument in support of his explanation of /. 163. One of Drummond's elegies is addressed 'to the Angel Spirit of the most excellent Sir Philip Sidney,' and the expression is amply justified by popular usage. 179] There is no necessary allu- sion in this line to the 'angelick system,' which is set forth with some minuteness in the Reason of Church Gauernmeni, B. I. c. i. (cf P. L. V. 601 ; xi. 80), as ' saints ' and not angels are here specified. The Christian doctrine of the Communion of Saints needs no illustration. 181] Rev. vii. 17 ; xxi. 4 ; Isai. XXV. 8, where the act is attributed to God Himself 183] See quotation from San- nazaro on /. 1 63, and cf Blacklock's Monody, Philantlies : — ' Still he, the genius of our green retreat. Shall with benignant care our labour cheer.' Many will agree with Todd in wish- ing that ' after the sublime intima- tion of angels wiping the tears from the eyes of Lycidas [he] had not been converted into the classical 88 LYCIDAS. In thy large recompense, and shalt be good To all that wander in that perilous flood. // Thus sang the uncoutl) swain to the oaks and rills, 185 incoutl) Genius of the shore.' For although the individual Genius is a concep- tion in many points similar to that of the guardian angel, the Genius Iqfii can have no counterpart in modern rel'gious belief, being a product of that localising tendency of Pagan theology which it viras one special aim of Christianity to abolish (John iv. 21 foil. ). The mention of him here serves, somewhat inartis- tically, to mark a return to the pastoral form in which the poem i$ chiefly set. Newton supposes an allusion to the story of Melicerta, told in the 6th book of Ovid's Fasti, and referred to by Virgil, Georg. i. 436 ; but the language in the text is perhaps hardly definite enough to make this reference cer- tain. 184 in thy large recompense] i.e. 'by way of ample requital to thee (for thy sufferings).' The phrase is doubtful English, but it represents such Greek forms of ex- pression as b trhs iriSoi = ' regret for thee,' where the possessive stands for an oblique case of the personal pronoun. See note on /. 166. shalt be good, &c.] Thyer com- pares Virg. £cl. V. 64, ' Sis bonus o, felixque tuis,' addressed to the deified Daphnis. 185 perilous] pronounced as a. dissyllable everywhere in Milton, except in P. L. ii. 420. Of. Spen- ser, F. Q. II. vi. 38, 'that perlous shard ; ' Keats, Endymion, bk. ill., ' in peHlous bustle.' Hence the colloquial form 'parlous,' Shaksp. Mids. N. Dream, iii. I, 'a parlous fear,' especially in the sense of alarmingly clever, ' a parlous boy,' A'. /?ieA. III. ii. 4. 1 86- 1 94] 'The shepherd elegi- ast, who has not yet been formally introduced, is now set before us among his oaks and rills' (Scott, Critical Essays). Keightley, in his Life and Opinions of Milton, ob- serves that these last eight lines form a perfect stanza in ottava rima, which is imitated by Mason in his MilStBUS. 186 uncouth] It is doubtful whether this word is to be taken in its literal sense of ' unknown ' (O.E. t! And now was dropped into the western bay. / At last he rose, and twitcht his mantle blue ; r' To-morrow to fresh woods, and pastures new. J 187] Cf. P. R. iv. 426 :— ' till morning fair Went forth with pilgrim steps in amice gray. 188] A 'stop 'is properly tliat which covers the ventholes in a flute or similar wind instrument ; hence it is applied to the holes themselves. The best illustration is that quoted by Warton from Ham- let, iii. 2 : — ' Govern these vent- ages vrith your fingers and thumb. . . . Look you, these are the stops' Cf. Comus, 346, whence Collins took his 'oaten stop or pastoral song,' Ode to Evening, I. I. The stops of an organ are only a more elaborate contrivance for applying the same principle to a number of pipes together ; these are mentioned in P. L. xi. 561. various quills] in allusion to the varied strains of the elegy (at //. 76, 88, 113, 132, 16s). This al- most amounts to a recognition on the part of the poet of the irregula- rity of style, the mixture of different and even opposing themes, which some have censured as a defect. ' Quill ' (L. calamus, G. kiel) is lite- rally a reed-pipe. So Spenser, Eel. vi. 67, speaks of the ' homely shep- herd's quill ; Collins, Superstitions of the Highlands, ' thy Doric quill ; ' Fletcher, Purple Island, xi. 10, ' my oaten quill.' Johnson explains it of the plectrum with which the strings of the lyre were struck, in- stancing Dryden's Virg. jSn. vi. 646, 'his harmonious quill strikes seven distinguished notes ' ( 'pectine pulsat eburno ') ; but this is not the usual sense of the word. 189 Doric lay] Aiupls aoiSei,. Mos- chus, Epit. Bionis, 12, which is said to have perished with Bion. Here it stands for pastoral poetry, in re- ference to Theocritus (see on //. 8S>.I33)> not, as Newton supposes, to archaisms of language, which are not so frequent in this poem as to justify his remark quoted above on /. 4. 190 stretcht out, &c.] Milton has here added something of his own to the Virgilian picture in Eel. i. 84, 'majoresque cadunt altis de montibus umbrfe. ' 192 twitcht] i.e. snatched up from where it lay beside him, Koavfov 5' a^ap i\\a$ev cT/iio (Plumptre's Translation). Or, according to Keightley, 'drew tightly about him on account of the chillness of the evening.' In any case the word expresses haste, as if the setting sun had surprised him while ' eager ' in bis singing. blue] the colour of a shepherd's dress, and the poet impersonates a shepherd (Hales, Longer English Poems). It is not probable that Milton meant anything more than this, though other explanations, mjre or less fanciful, have been offered. 193] Newton comp. Fletcher, 90 LYCIDAS. J'ui-pk Island, vi. 538, ' to-morrow shall ye feast inpasiures new.' Pro- fessor Masson observes that this is ' a parting irltimation that the ima- ginary shepherd is Milton himself, and that the poem is a tribute to his dead friend rendered passingly in the midst of other occupations ' (see note on /. i ). It is better to refer these words to the projected Italian tour, with which his mind must now have been occupied, than to any political intentions at this time. Milton could not have fore- seen the events of the next few years ; and we know that the com- motions which began in 1638-9 recalled him suddenly from abroad, where he had meant to stay for some time longer, and that the whole complexion of his future life was determined by them. It should be remembered that the next poem of any importance which he wrote was the Paradise Lost, begim probably in or about 1658, some two years before the Restora- tion. APPENDIX I. On the Etymology of some Words in the ' Lycidas.' Eime (/. ii). It is, or ought to be, now generally known that the common spelling of this word {rhyme) owes its origin to a pedantic formation from pvBiwt;, made by those who claimed for it a Greek derivation, but that it is really the O.E. rtm,'' ' numhex,' H.G. reim, Dutch rijm, , &c., and that the true orthography is rime. Dr. Latham, in his new edition of Johnson's Dictionary, makes it a main ground of objection to this statement, that the Teutonic forms themselves may have been originally connected with pcH/xoi — a question . obviously irrelevant to the matter in hand, which is simply to discover hoiv and whence the word first' came into our language. Nor is this a difficult task, since the older authorities all combine to prove that it was an English word from the first ; for instance, in Havelok, the Onnulum, Shoreham, Hoccleve, and Horn (see Stratmann's Old English Dictionary), the spelling is always rlM ox riiiu. We find indeed in Chaucei", Spenser, &c., a variant form ryme, but this is really of no importance, since i and y were constantly interchanged, as fire and fyre, time and tyme, &c. ; and ryme may have been so spelt for the special reason of distinguish- ing it from rime, 'hoar-frost.' This evidence from the earlier orthography ought to be decisive ; since an examination of the meaning and uses of the word leads to no certain conclusion either way. We know that it was at first a general term for 'verse ? (as in the present line), and that after the introduction of blank verse in the i6th' century it was applied to 'rhyming' poetry for the sake of distinction. But this general primary sense would be com- patible either with a derivation from pvO/ios or with one from rtm, since in both words the ' measured intervals ' (numeri) of the verse form the leading idea. I. had been unable to discover the exact date of the introduction of the A into the word rhyme, but 92 LYCIDAS. since writing the first draft of this note my attention has been directed to a letter from Mr. F. J. Fumivall in Notes and Queries, Nov. 29, 1873, in which he cites aUne from Daniel in IS9S) ' Raihng rhymes were sowed,' as the earliest instance of the false mode of spelling. If this be so, the case is complete in favour of rime (or ryme), and no one ought to hesitate about writing the word ' in one or other of these two ways. Another argument against the deriva- tion from puB/iot; is the parallel case of the Italian rima, which, like rime, meant poetry in general. Cf. Ariosto, Orl. Fur. I. ii., ' cosa non detta in prosa mai ne in rima^ whence Milton took his Une P. L. i. 16. This, Diez truly observes, could never have come from phejioc, though he is wrong when he goes on to say that the Italian equivalent musi be ' rimmo ' or ' remmo,' because, as a matter of fact, it happens to be 'ritmo.' But when H. Wedgwood (Vict. Etym. s. V. Ehyme) objects to the former assertion of Diez on ac- count of the analogy of the French rime from the older form rithme, he seems to overlook an important difference between the two languages in their respective methods of derivation from the Latin. When the original word has two consonants coming together in successive syllables, the Italian either retains the first (changing aspirates to mutes), as in ritmo, atmosfera, &c., or else assimilates it to the second, as in ammirare from admirare, &c. ; while in modem French the former consonant usually disappears with compensation, as in route, soumis, avocat (true French avmie), from rupta, submissus, advocatus. Hence rhythmus would natu- rally pass through rithme into rim.e, whereas in Italian it could only produce ritmo (or else rimmo or remmo), but not rimo, still less rima. There is, however, no reason for doubting that both rima and the French rime are cognate with the Teutonic forms rtni, reim, &c., above mentioned. Guerdon (/. 73). The received etymology of this word is the O.H.G. widarlSn, O.E.. wi'&erlean, which became in Low Latin ividerdonum, by association with donum, ' a gift,^ since the word originally meant ' a reward in return for services.' Burguy, in his Grammaire de la Langue d'Oil, gives the various forms gueredon, geredon, werdon., and werredon, also the verbs guerredoner and re-werdoner ; and quotes a sentence from the Sermons of S. Ber- nard, 'Li granz rewerdoneres est venuz,' i.e. 'Le grand remunirateur est venu.' Another derivation, at first sight very plausible, is given by Manage, who refers the origin of the word to the Old German Werdung, which took the form Werdunia in Low Latin, and meant APPENDIX I. 9,3 preHi cestimatio. The existence of this latter word is shown by a passage which he quotes from Vossius, De Vitiis Sermonis Latini (B. ii. c. 20), where instances occur both of Werdunia and of a compound Cinewerdunia, which Ducange also gives in his Glossary, though Werdunia itself is not to be found there. The first part of this compound is of doubtful import and derivation. Chevallet has suggested what is really the same etymology, for he Atx\v^% guerdon from Werd (Modern German WertK), meaning ' price ' or ' value ; ' but this is rejected by Scheler {Diet, d^ Etymologic Frangaise, 1863), who pronounces the derivation from widarUn to be 'au- dessus de toute contestation.' It is true that guerdon might come from Werdung according to the rule by which the letter w was regularly replaced by g or gu in those Teutonic words which the Franks introduced into Gaul (see Max Muller, Lectures on the Science of Language, 2nd Series, p. 265) ; but by the same rule it might ^equally well be derived from widarldn, and that it was so derived seems to be a well-established historical fact. The really fatal objection to M&age's theory is the existence of the Italian word guiderdone, which could not possibly have had its origin in Werdung, though it would naturally be produced from widarldn by the change of w into gu above mentioned. The older spelling guerre-don no doubt arose from the idea that the term had some- thing to do with remuneration for service in war. Felon (/. 91). The derivation from fell, mentioned in the note, is by no means proved. The word may be connected with the Gaelic y&a//, ' deceit,' for examples of -which see H. Wedgwood's Diet, of Etymology, s. v. felon. Du Cange indeed says that ^felo ' = ' perfidus,' ' rebellis, ' crudelis,' &c., from A.S. fell ; and Chaucer, in the Homatmt of the Rose, takes pains to establish this connexion in the lines — ' Daunger that is sofeloun Felly purposeth thee to werrey, which is full cruel, the sooth to say.' Cf. Lyndsay, Monarchic, 'that felloun flood;' Pope, Odyssey, iv. 712, 'his felon hate.' From this general sense of ' wickedness,' y^/uwy became a recognised legal term for the higher class of crimes ; and since such were formerly punished by the forfeiture of lands and goods,fclon was erroneously supposed to be a compound of fee and Ion, i.e. the price of a feof or beneficiary estate (Spelman in Blackstone's Commentary). The Italian_/%^(7 and the French ^&, ' cruel,' are perhaps traceable to the same root. Wanton (/. 136). Authorities differ as to the origin of this word. H. Wedgwood {Diet, of Etymology, s. v.) considers it to be 94 LYCIDAS. a compound of the O.E. negative prefix wan (as in ■wan-hope = ' despair ') and togen, the past part, of teon (G. Ziehen), ' to draw.' Its meaning would therefore be ' untrained,' and hence ' irregular in conduct.' This derivation is clearly proved by the existence of an intermediate form wantowen, of which Wedgwood quotes an instance from a Sermon on Miracle Plays — ' We waxen wanWwen or idil.' He also notes the expressions 'untowen,' 'wel itowen,' 'ful itowen,' in the Ancren Riwle, a treatise of the 13th century on the Rules of Monastic Life. (But the meaning of the last word is not, as he gives it, ' fully educated,' but ' undisciplined ' or ' ill- educated,' from the O.E. _/^/ = 'foul.' See the Ancren Riwle, edited by the Rev. J. Morton for the Camden Society, pp. 108, 140, 244, 368.) [An alternative derivation is that given by Webster and others, 'from a Welsh adjective gwantan, 'roving,' 'fickle,' which is referred to the verb gwanta, 'to separate' (probably cognate with chwant, 'lust,' Greek xa''^<», Lat. hi-o, hisco, &c.). The precise similarity both in form and meaning between gwantan and wanton would no doubt go very far towards establishing a common origin ; we cannot, however, certainly say which i^ the older of the two, and it is more than probable that the Welsh may have borrowed the word from our language. But supposing that gwantan was the earlier form, and that from it wanton was derived, its resemblance to the real English word wantowen might very well give rise to the theory which Wedgwood adopts, especially if at any time after its introduction wanton came to be spelt wantoun or wantown.'] AU this, however, is purely hypothetical ; the history of the word, as traced by Wedgwood, is quite conclusive in favour, of the first-named derivation. Notwithstanding, Edward MiiUer in his Etymologisches Worterbuch der englischen Sprache (1867), accepts the theory propounded by Webster. Herse (/. 151). This word was employed in three distinct senses, of which the last now alone remains in use. These are (i) the /«««ra/ W20««?«««^ (Spenser, F. Q. 11. viii. 16); {^ih.t coffin, as in Shaksp. I K. Henry VI. i. i, where 'a wooden coffin' is presently spoken of as 'King Henry's hearse;' (3) the funeral carriage. Richardson, wrongly supposing this last to be the primary meaning, derives the word from the O.E. kyrsfan, 'to decorate ' (see also Home Tooke's Diversions of Purley). It really comes from the French herce. Low Latin hercia Qiirpicefn), ' a harrow' (Ducange, Glossary, s.v.), and originally meant a tri- angular frame for candles, placed at the head of the corpse. Thus APPENDIX I. 95 in the account of the battle of Crecy in Froissart's Chronicles, c. 130 (Lord Berners' translation), we are told that 'the archers stode in maner of a herse,' i.e. in triangular form. And since this burning of candles was the distinctive feature in the obsequies, the term ' hearse ' came to be used either of the whole ceremony or of its various appurtenances (Wedgwood, Diet, of Etymol. s. v.). In the Faery Queen, in. ii. 48, Spenser has wrongly applied the phrase 'holy herse' to the church service, as if the word were connected with 'rehearse;' and perhaps the same mistake is made in the Shepheard's Calendar, xi. 60, where 'herse' is explained in the glossary to mean ' the solemn obsequie in funeralles.' Trick (/. 170). The main senses of this word (as noun and verb) are — (i ) Artifice, (2) Peculiar habit or manner {King Lear, iv. 6, 'The trick of that voice I do well remember'), (3) Ornament (// Penseroso, \22,; Shakspeie, King Henry K iii. 6,' trick up with new- tuned oaths;' Merry W. of Windsor, 'trickings for our fairies'), (4) Heraldic devices (Jonson, Poetaster, ' they are blazoned, they are tricked'), (5) Collection of cards taken up by the winner. All these find a common origin in the Dutch trek, a ' draught,' ' pull,' or ' stroke,' which answers to our word ' draw' in all its senses, and has also the secondary meanings of ' deceit,' and of a 'feature' of the face or character. (Cf. trait from iractus, which means in French both 'feature' and 'trick.' Faire des traits =faire des tpurs.) To the same root trek Diez refers tricher (It. treccare), ' to cheat,' though he derives in-triguer, trigaud, &c., from the Latin verb tricari. This is unquestionably right, although at first sight tricher, with its cognate triquer, might seem a natural formation from tricari, like miche from mica, indiquer from indicare, &c. But, as Diez observes, the radical e in the older form trecher is fatal to such a derivation, and the Teutonic origin of tricher may therefore be considered as established. There cannot be any con- nexion (however remote) between the Latin tricari and the root we have been considering; since we know that the former is derived from tricce, originally Tricae, a small town in Apulia, whose name with that of the neighbouring Apinas came to be used of anything trifling or insignificant. (Cf. Pliny, Nat. Hist. iii. 16; Martial, Ep}gr. Xiv. i. 7, ' Sunt apinse tricaeque et si quid villus istis;' 'E.ra.sm.us, Chiliad. Cent. 2, Adag. 43, 'Tricas et Apinas vulgo res futiles et nugatorias dicebant.') Thus Cicero {adAtticitm, X. viii. 9) contrasts 'domesticas tricas' with 'publicam cladem.' Hence tricari was applied to shuffling and petty meanness of con- 96 LYCIDAS. duct (Cic. adAtt. xiv. xix. 4 ; xv. iii. 5), a sense which is accidentally almost the same with that of tricher and treccare. This may be noted as one of those curious coincidences, by which words without any etymological connexion obtain in different languages a similar form and meaning. A further illustration of this is seen in the German triigen {friegen), ' to deceive,' regarded as a collateral form of tragen, and thus connected with traho, draw, drag, &c. Another meaning of trica (that of ' perplexity' or ' entanglement') seems to have produced the later Latin tricare, 'to loiter;' and this was absurdly derived from irica (flpi'J), 'a knot of hair/ for a full account of which see Ducange, Glossarium, s. v. trica. This verb also meant 'to deceive,' whence came tricatores = ' Atcfptores, Cjm res impediunt vel implicant.' We may therefore assume irek to be the original of trick in all its senses, as well as of tricher and treccare ; it only remains to reject the derivation given by Dr. Johnson and Richardson of trick, in the sense of ornament, from the trica above referred to, since the idea of ornament springs most naturally from that of delineation, especially when used of heraldic devices (see No. 4 supra). The only, instance given of the word as actually meaning ' a knot of hair' is from Jonson's Poetaster, ' your court curls or your tricks ;' but this need not be anything more than a general term for 'orna- ment.' (See the quotation from Sandys' Travels, given in the note upon /. 170.) APPENDIX II. On the allusions in II. 128, 129. Thosk who have read Professor Masson's examination of this passage in his Life of Milton (vol. i. p. 641 foil.) will hardly fail to agree with him in interpreting the ' grim wolf' to mean that system of perversion to Romanism, which seems to have reached its height in or about the year 1637. The view partially adopted by Newton, that the Primate is the person here intended, might seem at first sight to be supported by an entry in Laud's diary, to the effeot that in July 1637 a libel was pasted on the Cross at Cheapside, designatingKiin ' the arch- wolf of Canterbury.' But so common an expression as this is barely sufficient of itself to enable us to draw a positive conclusion, while the language which Milton here employs respecting the ' wolf presents at least a twofold objection to such an interpretation. First, the evil is clearly an external one, being distinguished from the abuses previously mentioned as existing within the fold — the word ' besides ' indicates this — and secondly, the expression 'privy paw,' denoting secresy, would be a most unfit one, if it were intended to describe the doings of Laud and the High Commission Court, whose attacks on Nonconformity were open and undisguised ; nor was there perhaps any character more prominent at this time than that of the Archbishop. Both the required conditions are satisfied, if we adopt Newton's alternative explanation, ' besides what the Popish priests privately pervert to their religion,' in support of which view Masson in his Life of Milton brings' forward the instances of Sir Toby Matthews, Sir Kenelm Digby and others, who had been most active in this , matter for some years before the publication of Lycidas. He goes on to show that Laud himself strongly disapproved of these per- versions, as appears from his letter of remonstrance to Sir K. Digby (March 27, 1636) upon his change of religion, and from his H 98 LYCIDAS. strict injunctions to Dr. Bayly, Vice-chancellor of Oxford (Aug. 29, 1637), to take strong measures against the Jesuits, who were seducing the students in that University. It may have been the case that ' as he valued his theory of a possible union of the churches, the floating off of atoms vexed and annoyed him' (Masson /. c.) ; but even the fact that he did desire such a union is mainly sup- ported by the assertion of Montague, Bp. of Chichester, to Panzani, a Papal agent sent to decide certain disputes among the English Catholics, but with special instructions not to have any dealings whatever with Laud (Lingard, I/>'s(. of England, vol. vii. c. 5). Taken in connexion with this injunction, the circumstances attend- ing the offer of a cardinal's hat made to Laud a short time before, and rejected by him on the ground of dissatisfaction with Rome 'as it then was' {Diary, Aug. 4, 1633), serve to show that the distrust between the two parties was at least mutual; for it is certain that this offer was made without cognisance of the Pope, who even refused to ratify it when the request to do so was laid before him. We know also that the news of Laud's death in 1646 was hailed at Rome with great rejoicing, on the ground that ' the greatest enemy of the Church of Rome in England was cut off, and the greatest champion of the Church of England silenced.' (Tes- timony of Sir Lionel Tolmache, as reported by the Rev. J. Whiston, his chaplain about 1666). All this agrees very well with Laud's own assertions in answer to the charges brought against him by the Puritans in 1640, ' that he hath traytorously endeavoured to re- concile the Church of England with the Church of Rome, and per- mitted a Popish hierarchy in this kingdom, &c.' To this he replies, ' I did never desire that England and Rome should meet, but with the forsaking of error and superstition, if some tenets of Rome on one side and some deep disaffections on the other have not made this impossible, as I much doubt they have. But that I should practise with Rome as it now stands is utterly untrue. Secondly, I have hindered as many from going to the Roman party, as any divine in England hath done. (Twenty-two names are here quoted, many of whom are of high rank and quality.) Thirdly, many Recusants think that / have doTie them and their cause more harm than they which have seemed more fierce against them' The obvious fact is that the vital differences between the religious theory of Laud and that of the Roman Church, patent to either party and too great to allow the possibility of a union, were ignored by the Puritans in their zeal against the Laudian movement, which they either did not care to APPENDIX II. 99 distinguish from actual Popery, or considered as even something worse. (See speech of Lord Falkland, Feb. 9, 1641.) Nor is it likely that Milton, young as he was at this time, surrounded by Puritan influences, and having a strong natural bias in the same direction, would be enabled to form a juster estimate of the facts than the rest of his party did ; it is therefore quite likely that he may have wished to include Laud among even the foremost of the Romanisers in the Church of England, though we deny that the allusion in the present passage is directly or exclusively intended for him. The expression ' nothing said' (altered from 'little said ' of the first draft) is plainly an imputation upon the Court and hierarchy for their remissness in dealing with the evil we have just been con- sidering. As regards the latter, if we take Laud as its represen- tative, it is probable (to quote again from Professor Masson) that 'the Puritans, not knowing his measures [against the Catholic agents], or not thinking them enough, found in the increasing number of perversions a fresh condemnation of him and his ad- herents.' But the policy of Charles I. towards the Papists was by no means uniform. His treaty of marriage with the Princess Henrietta in 1624 had contained a promise of immunity to the Catholics for the peaceable exercise of their worship, though he had sworn in conjunction with his father a few months before, tiiat in case of his marriage with a Catholic the said immunity should extend only to herself and her own family. In 1629 he adopted a middle course, exempting them from the extreme penalties of recusancy in respect of fines for non-attendance at the services of the established Church, yet not allowing them absolute freedom in their own religious worship ; and even this concession was loudly reprobated by the Puritans. At the present time (1637) the queen's private influence was considerable. By the strenuous efforts of Con, the successor of Panzani, she had been induced to take a warm interest in the work of individual proselytisra, which had superseded the former scheme of reunion of the Churches, and the autumn of this year was marked by a large accession of perverts to Rome. On the whole therefore we may conclude that Milton's words little (or nothing) said are a rather moderate statement of the real grievance, and one with which the Puritans generally would by no means have contented themselves. Warton is surprised that the University should have allowed these lines, and that they should have escaped ' the severest anim- H 2 100. LYCIDAS. adversions' from the High Court of Commission and the Star Chamber. But there had long been a decided Puritan element at Cambridge, the leading man at the time of Charles' accession being Dr. Preston, Master of Emanuel, 'the greatest pupil-monger in England' according to Fuller, formerly a favourite with the Duke of Buckingham, and one of the king's chaplains (Masson, vol. i. p. 94). As to the civil and spiritual tribunals, perhaps Milton was then too obscure to demand their notice ; we know at least that he afterwards managed to escape the fate which befell others of his party, and that even after the Restoration in 1660 he was included in the Act of Indemnity, and was released after three days' imprisonment, although his Eiconoclastes and Defensio Populi Anglicani were ordered to be burnt TRANSLATION OF LYCIDAS INTO LATIN HEXAMETERS, By William Hogg, 1694. Paraphrasis Latina in duo Poemata {quorum alterum a Miltono, alterum a Clievlando Anglice scriptum fuit) quibus deplo- ratur Mors juvenis pmclari et eruditi, D. Edvardi King, qui Nave, qua vectabatur, Saxo illisa in Oceano Hybernico submersus est. Authore Gulielmo Hogao. Author lamentatur amicum eruditum, infeliciter Mari Hyberno submersum, postquam a Cestria solvisset, 1637. Et, occasione oblata, corruptorum Clericorum ruinam praedicit, qui tunc temporis pro libitu in sublimi dignitatis gradu vitam agitabant : — Rursus odoratae myrti laurique virentes, Vestitae aureolos hedera serpente corymbos, Rursus ego vestras redeo decerpere baccas, Quanquam acidas, nee dum maturo sole recoctas ; Et vestras spoliare comas et spargere passim, 5 Frigora quanquam absunt procul autumnalia, nee dum Hispidus arboreos Aquilo populatur honores. Me dolor, et duri necopina injuria fati Tempora vestra meis cogunt turbare querelis. Occidit heu ! tenerae Lycidas in flore juventae, 10 Occidit heu ! dulcis Lycidas, nuUumque reliquit lUe parem. Blandi Lycidas jam funera justis Deplorare modis quis non velit ? Ipse canendi Arte Sophocleum didicit transire cothumum. Arva per asquorei infletum iluitare profundi 15 Tene decet ? nuUis digna an tua fata querelis, Dum te fluctus habet, versantque per aequora venti ? Nunc utinam eloquii charites, et vivida vocum loa LYCIDAS. Gratia, quas olim est veterum turba impia vatum Aonias mentita deas, mihi protinus adsint, 20 Jucundaque novam modulentur arundine musam. Forsitan et nostras pariter comitabitur umbras Carmine Musa pio, cinerique precabitur hospes Praeteriens, ' Tacita placidus requiesce sub uma.' Unicus amborum pariter juvenilibus annis 25 Mons nutritor erat, pariter quoque pavimus unum Ambo gregem gelidos jucundi fontis ad ortus, Aut rivi salientis aquas, aut arboris umbram. Ambo simul teneras ad pascua laeta capellas Duximus, ante oculis quam pulchra Aurora redusis 30 Reddiderat lucemque orbi rebusque colbrem. Et simul exiguse jucundo murmure muscaf! Noctivagam resonare tubam exaudivimus ambo Per placidos Luna: cursus, jam rore recenti Nectareos spargente gregis per vellera succos. 35 Saepe etiam haud seras libuit decedere nocti, Donee ab Eoa nitido quae vespere lympha Stella exorta fuit medii transivit Olympi Culmen, et Hesperias cursum convertit ad undas. Interea, harmonicas digitis moderantibus auras, 40 Agrestem inflamus calamum, choreasque pilosi In numerum ducunt Satyri, Faunique nequibant Capripedes nostris cohibere a cantibus aurem ; Ipse senex nostra Damoetas gestit avena. Heu male mutatae Fortunae injuria ! vadis, 45 Vadis ad aeternas (nunquam heu ! rediture) tenebras. Te, Pastor, silvae umbriferae, viridesque recessus Antrorum, quot ubique thymo vel vite teguntur, Undique jure dolent, resonatque dolentibus Echo. Ah ! salices cessant virides humilesque myricae 50 Nunc resonare tuae ramosque inflectere Musae. Ut nocet atra rosis aerugo, ut pestis acerba est CEstrum immane boum, glacialia frigora Acres Qualiter infestant tunica variante decoros. Cum niveus primum florescere coepit acanthus ; S5 Sic quoque pastores (triste ac miserabile !) lethi, O Lycida dilecte, tui -dolor urit acerbus. Quae nemora, aut qui vos saltus habuere, puellae Naiades, immensis Lycidas cum est obrutus undis ? LYCIDAS. 103 Nam neque duxistis choreas super ardua rupis 60 Culmina praeruptae, Druidum monumenta priorum ; Nee vos saxosse tenuere cacumina Monae, Nee Deva fatidicas ubi late exporrigit undas. Cur ego vana loquor ? prassens si vestra fuisset Tota cohors, huic ecquid opem auxiliumque tulisset ? 65 Orphei Calliopea suo quam ferre valebat Tristis opem ? nil Musa suo succurrere nato, Cujus ad interitum rerum natura dolebat, Tunc potuit, cum femineas furor iraque turbae, Diseerptum latos juvenem quae sparsit in agros, 70 Sanguineum caput Orpheia cervice revulsum, Hebre, tuis injeeit aquis, quod adusque cucurrit Littora, quae miseri letho bene nota Leandri. Quid juvat assiduis frustra tabescere curis, Et pastoralis studium contemnere vitas, 75 Et vanum ingratae Musae impendisse laborem ? Nonne fuit satius sociorum more per umbras Suaviter arboreas seetari Amaryllida dulcem, Atque, Neaera, tnos leviter prensare capillos. Fama viros, quorum sublimi in pectore virtus 80 Se generosa loeat, cohibere libidinis aestum (Pessima nobilium solet esse haec lerna virorum) Incitat, et duros etiam sufferre labores. Ast ubi pasne tibi illustris tetigisse videris Culmen honoris, adest Lachesis cum forcipe dira, 85 Et fragilis vitas filum secat. At mihi Phoebus ' Fama tamen post fata manet, secura sepulchri ' Dixerat, et tremulas leviter mihi vellicat aures ; ' Fama est planta solo minime prognata caduco ; ' Fortunae secura nitet, nee fascibus ullis -jo ' Erigitur, plausuve petit clarescere vulgi. ' Judieis ante Jovje piirisstma lumina lueem ' Ilia cupit fulgere suam ; quieunque verendum ' lUius ante thronum laudemque decu^que reportat, ' Hujus in aethereo fama effulgebit Olympo.' 95 O Arethusa, et tu, fluvius eeleberrime, Minci, Undique vocaJi redimitus arundine frontem, Lene fluens, quae nunc reeito miW dicta fuerunt Hsec longe graviore sono, graviore cothurno ; Sed mea propositam repetat nunc fistula Musam. 100 104 LYCIDAS. Tunc quoque caeruleus vada per Neptunia Triton Circumagebat iter liquidum, fluctusque sonoros, Perfidaque folios interrogat agmina ventas, ' Unde h£ec saeva bono pecoris data fata magistro ?' Qusecunque altisonis uUo de monte procellis 105 Horrida flabra volant, ruptaeve cacumine rupis, lUe rogat ; miseri cuncta haec tamen inscia fati. Hippotadesque sagax cunctorum nomine tales Reddidit ore sonos, — ' Nullius flamina venti Nuper ab jEoliis sese effudere cavemis.' no Ridebant taciti tranquilla silentia ponti, Et placido lapsu Panope centumque sorores jEquora plana legunt stratamque aequaliter undam. Perfida navis erat, crudeli dedita fato, Quae rimis accepit aquam, sacrumque repente 115 Mersit in ima caput, medioque sub asquore texit. Proximus incessu senior tardissimus ibat Camus, et hirsuta velatus veste ; galerus Carice factus erat, variis obscura figuris Quem textura notat, quem circum vitta colon 120 Par, Hyacinthe, tuo, questus inscripte, cucurrit ' Heu ! mihi quis rapuit carissima pignora?' dixit Ultimus hue venit, rediitque hinc ultimus, undse Cui Galilaeanse custodia creditur ; illi Duplex clavis erat duplici formata metallo, 135 (Aurea portam aperit, subito quam ferrea claudit). Tempora turn nitida quassans omata tiara Talia fatus erat tetricas cum murmure vocis. ' Quam bene nunc pro te, si vertere fata liceret, ' Quam bene nunc pro te, juvenum carissime, multos 130 • Concessissem alios, stimulante cupidine ventris ' Qui furtim ac tacite irrumpunt et ovilia scandimt ! ' Unica cura quibus pecorum fuit usque magistri ' Vi rapuisse epulas, avidique hausisse paratas, ' Convivasque alios audaci pellere dextra. 13J ' O caeci ventres, qui vix comprendere dextra ' Pastorale pedum, aut aliquid didicere, fideles ' Quod juvat atque decet pecorum prasstare magistros ! ' Quid curant ? quid curse opus est ? bene vivitur illis ; ' Et licet his, ubicunque libet, sub vindice nuUo 140 LYCIDAS. los ' Strident! jnisemm stipula disperdere carmen. ' Interea pecudes languentia lumina volvunt, ' Tabescuntque fame, miseris quia pabula desunt ; ' Sad ventis nebulisque tument, sensimque putrescunt ' Interius, sparguntque sui contagia morbi. 145 ' Insuper et teneras vis quotidiana luporum ' Clam discerpit oves avidamque immergit in alvum. ' Machina sed gemmo ad portas armata flagello ' Protinus his uno parat ictu accersere fatum.' Nunc, Alphee, tuos iterum convertere cursus 150 Incipe ! nunc vox dira abiit, vox dira quievit, Quae fluvium terrore tuum retro ire coegit. Tu quoque, pastoris Siculi modulamine quondam Edita Musa, redi, nemorumque umbracla colores Hue florum innumeros simul injectare jubeto. 155 Vos quoque nunc valles humiles, ubi florea Tempe Et venti placidis resonant fluviique susurris, Quarum baud saepe sinus Cancri ferus attigit ardor. Undique gemmantes oculos conferte, virenti Nectareos quicunque bibunt in cespite succos ; 160 Floribus et vemis totam depingite terram. Hue rosa, jucundi quae dicta est primula veris, Quas moritur, si spreta jacet, pulcherque hyacinthus ; Hue quoque cum niveis vaccinia nigra ligustris, Hue quoque sylvarum cum garyophillide cana 165 Moschitseque rosa violarum et amabile germen, Atque periclymenos fulgenti ornatus amictu ; Paralysisque etiam, fulvo quas tota metallo Pallet, et in terram pendente cacumine vergit, Et quicunque gerit tunicam flos luctibus aptam, 170 Conveniant, pariterque locum glomerentur in unum. Hue, Amaranthe, veni, quern non borealia laedunt Frigora, quem asstiferi non torrent brachia Cancri ! Hue, Narcisse, veni, lacrimis tua pocula replens Suavibus ! hue flores veniant, quoscunque vocavi, 175 Lauriggrique tegant Lycidae venerabile bustum. Gaudia sic mcestis juvat interponere curis, Solarique animos ficta sub imagine nostros ; Dum te fluctus agit, ventisque sonantia volvunt ^quora vasta, trahuntque tuum retrahuntque cadaver. 180 io6 LYCIDAS. Sive ultra sestiferis ferventeS Hebridas undis, (Hie tu forte lates rapidp sub gurgite tectus, Imaque monstriferi visis penetralia mundi,) Sive remotus abes procul hinc, longumque soporem Carpis, ubi sedem tenuit Bellerus avitam, 185 Pristina quern veterum celebrant mendacia vatum, Mons ubi praesidio circumdatus undique spectat Namancon, spectatque tuos, Bayona, recessus ; — Ad patrias sedes precor o precor, Angele, rursus Respice nunc miseros non aversatus amicos ! 190 Vos quoque, delphines, juveni supponite tergum, Perque plagas vasti vitreas portate profundi ! Nunc pecorum placidi fletus inhibete magistri. Non periit letho Lycidas cessitve sepulchri Legibus, aequorea jaceat licet obrutus unda. 195 Haud aliter Phoebi se praevia stella profundum Mergit in Hesperium, diversis rursus ab undis Mane novo surgens, multo spectabilis auro, Erigit ilia caput primoque ardescit Eoo. Sic Lycidas primum ima petit, deiij ardua scandit, 200 Praeside nempe illo, tumidi qui terga profundi Haud secus ac siccam pedibus peragravit arenam, Spumeaque intrepidis calcavit marmora plantis. Hie alios inter silvas nemoralis honores, Atque alios longe fluvios se nectare puro 205 Obruit, atque suos miro lavit amne capillos, yEtheriosque hilari laetus trahit aure hymenseos In regnis ubi floret amor et pura voluptas. Hie quoque Sanctorum chorus ilium amplectitur omnis, Ordine qui juncti pariter coelestia cantant 210 Carmina et aetherias ducunt cantando choreas, Atque oculis abigunt lacrymam procul illius oninem. Nunc pecorum placidi Lycidam lugere magistri Absistunt ; tu, littoreas dum carpis arenas, (Haec tibi in Elysiis durabunt prasmia campis) 215 Semper eris quovis meliorque et faustior astro Puppe periclosam trepida tranantibus undam. Talia concinuit peregrinus carmina pastor Quercubus -alticomis fluviorum et lenibus undis, Dum croceis Aurora rotis invecta redibat ; 220 LYCIDAS. 107 Mutabatque sonos relegens, orisque recursu Dissimili tenuem variabat arundine ventutn. Jam sol majores umbras super alta tetendit Culmina et Hesperiis post paulo absconditur undis. Tatidera iterum rediit viridemque remisit amictum ; 225 ' Cras sylvas peragrare novas, nova pascua, cordi est' Notes. In /. 75 the English has «^ misprinted for tend. I. 92 Qy. yovis ? but Java is clearly printed. /. 96 (^.fluviAm {{atjluviorum) ? /. 213, Now Lycidas the shepherds weep no more in the English. EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS. Argumentum. Yhyrsis et Damon, ejusdem viciniae pastores, eadem studia sequuti, a pueritia amict erant, ut qui plurimum. Thyrsis animi causa profectus peregre de obitu Damonis nuncium accepit. Demum postea reversus, et rem ita esse comperto, se suamque Solitudinem hoc carmine de- plorat. Damonis autem sub persona hie inteUigitur Carolus Deodatus ex urbe Hetrurise Luca patemo genera oriundus, caetera Anglus ; ingenio, doctrina, clarissimisque cseteris virtutibus, dum viveret, juvenis egregius. HiMERiDES nymphse (nam vos et Daphnin et ||ylan, Et plorata diu meministis fata Bionis), Dicite Sicelicum Thamesina per oppida carmen : Quas miser efFudit voces, quae murmura Thyrsis, Et quibus assiduis exercuit antra querelis, 5 Fluminaque, fontesque vagos, nemorumque recessus ; men.' ' Thamesina' fixes the locality to Horton and its neighbourhood, where the Colne (/. 149) joins the Thames. 4 Thyrsis] (who of course repre- sents Milton himself) is also the name of the attendant Spirit in Comus. It is adopted from Theocr. Id. i. (/. c). 5 exercuit antra] something like 'exercere diem' in Virg. jEn. x. 808. The notion is that of keeping the caves hard at work in echoing his lamentations. Cf. /. 8 and note. 6 fluminaque fontesque] an ob- vious imitation of Virg. j^n. iii. 91, 'limiti-'que laurusque dei.' It is doubtful whether this instance jus- tifies the licence of the present line, Vir^j 1 s practice being confined to those cases in which the next woid 1 Himerides] of Himera in Sicily. Symmqns, in his Life of Milton (appended to the Prose Works), aptly observes that Warton should not call it 'the famous bu- colic river of Theocritus,' since none of his scenes are laid there, and the river is only mentioned twice in the Idylls (y. 124; vii. 74)- Hylan] The first syllable is short, as appears from Theocr. Id. vii. ; Virg. E. vi. 43, G. iii. 6. Milton himself has' ' raptus Hylas ' in Eleg. vii. 24. Possibly he may Tiave been thinking of Hyteus in Virg. G. ii. 457. Daphnis, Hylas, and' Bion are lamented in Theocr. i. 13, andMoschus, Id. iii., respect- ively. 3] Virg. G. ii. 176, 'Ascrseum- que cano Romana per oppida car- EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS. Dum sibi praereptum queritur Damona, neque altam Luctibus exemit noctem, loca sola pereirans. Et jam bis viridi surgebat culmus arista, Et totidem flavas numerabant horrea messes, lo Ex quo summa dies tulerat Damona sub umbras, Nee dum aderat Thyrsis ; pastorem scilicet ilium Dulcis amor Musae Tusca retinebat in urbe : Ast ubi mens expleta domum, pecorisque relicti Cura vocat, simul assueta seditque sub ulmo, 15 Turn vero amissum tum denique senlit amicum, Coepit et immensum sic exonerare dolorem. begins with a liquid (as above), a double consonant, as * Enrique Ze- phyrique,' G. i, 371, or with the letter s, as 'Chloreaque Sybarim- que,' ^n. xii. 363. Mr. Nettle- ship, in his Excurstis at the end of the third volume of Conington's Virgil, points out that in this re- spect Virgil has strictly followed Homer. 8 exemit] ' released ' from the task of repeating his lament. Prof. Masson well translates the passage, * compelling even the midnight Into the sound of his woe. ' ' Luc- tibus ' is probably the ablative, that being the usual construction in the Augustan age; but the dative is used by later writers. Cf Tac. .<4««. xiv. 48, 'ut mortieximeretur.' 9 bis] i.e. in 1638 and 1639. The Epitaphium Danionis was writ- ten towards the end of the latter year, and Diodati seems to have died in the summer of 1638 (Masson, Life of Milton, vol. i. p. 776). 13 Dulcis amor Uusse] See in the Argument the words ' animi causa profectus peregre. ' Milton here refers to his second visit to Florence in the beginning of 1639, which lasted two months. Of the first he thus speaks in the Defensio Se- cundapro populo Anglicano ; 'lUic multorum et nobilium sane et doc- torum hommum familiaritatem sta- tim contraxi, quorum privatas aca- demias assidue frequentavi. ' Among these friends were Carlo Dati and Francini (/. 137), the former of whom addressed to him the Latin letter inscribed 'Joanni Miltoni Londiniensi, &c.' ; the latter the complimentary Italian ode beginning ' Ergimi all' etra o Clio.' The ' private academies ' were literary societies for the mutual acquaint- ance and friendship of learned men, for admission to which each member had to give some 'proof of his talent or learning,' as Milton tells us in the Reason of Church Government. He probably there recited some of his early Latin poems, which won for him the encomiums above referred to (Masson, vol. i. pp. 719 foil.). 15 assueta sub ulmo] i.e. at his father's house at Horton; possibly the 'dilectas villarum ulmos' men- tioned in the seventh of the Prolu- siones Oraioricc, delivered at Cam- bridge. Elms still form a promi- nent feature in the scenery about Horton. Warton compares the 'ac- customed oak,' // Penseroso, 60. For the postposition of -que, cf. Propert. 11. xvi. 11, 'ferratam Da- naes transiliamyjtf domum ; ' TibuU. I. iii. 55, 'Messalam terra dum sequitury«^ mari.' EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS. ill Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. Hei mihi ! quae terris, quae dicam numina coelo, Postquam te immiti rapuerant funere, Damon ! 20 Siccine nos linquis, tua sic sine nomine virtus Ibit, et obscuris numero sociabitur umbris? At non ille, animas virga qui dividit aurea, Ista velit, dignumque tui te ducat in agmen, Ignavumque procul pecus arceat omne silentum. 25 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. ■ Quicquid erit, certe nisi me lupus ante videbit, Indeplorato non comminuere sepulchro, Constabitque tuus tibi honos, longumque vigebit Inter pastores : lUi tibi vota secundo 30 Solvere post Daphnin, post Daphnin dicere laudes, Gaudebunt, dum rura Pales, dum Faunus amabit : Si quid id est, priscamque fidem coluisse piumque, Palladiasque artes, sociumque habuisse canorum. Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 35 Hsec tibi certa manent, tibi erunt hsec prsemia, Damon ; At mihi quid tandem fiet modo ? quis mihi fidus 23] Hor. Od. \. xxiv. 15 : ' Non 28] Cf. Lycidas, 14. Warton vanae redeat sanguis imagini, Quam quotes Ovid, Trist. III. iii. 45. virga semel horrida . . . Nigrocom- 31] Cf. Virg. E. v. 78-80, where jiulerit Mercurius gregV (I. 25). For Daphnis, the great pastoral hero, ' aurea ' cf. Horn. Od. x. 277, where is promised divine hononrs equal' , Hermes is called ypviT6^^ams. Lu- to those paid to Bacchus and cian has the same simile, airis . . . Ceres. Siairep Ti ahr6\toii aBp6ovs a'Vois TJr 33 priscamque fidem, &c.] ' the pdfiS aoPav. faith of the old and the loyal' 25 silentum] ufed absolutely of (Masson), i.e. the good old-fash- the dead in Virg. ^^n. vi. 432. The ioned rustic faith. Keightley qnes- 'ignavum pecus' is from G. iv. 168, tions the correctness of this use of where it has quite a different appli- ' pium' as a substantive. It certainly cation. Keightley notes the expres- sounds somewhat harsh in connex- .sion 'pecus' as 'strange,' but its ion with 'fidem,' but the expression use here is justified by ' gregi ' in the itself may be paralleled by the passage from Horace quoted above. ' honestum,' 'utile,' &c., so common 27 nisi me, &c.] i.e. ' if I do not in Cicero's philosophical treatises, lose my power of utterance.' See which are imitations of the Greek Virg. '£. ix. 54 for the superstition rh Ka\6i>, &c. that if a wolf saw a. man first, the 37 modo] probably an adverb of latter became dumb. time = 'now.' It is more commonly 112 EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS. Haerebit lateri comes, ut tu saspe solebas Frigoribus duris et per loca feta pruinis, Aut rapido sub sole, siti morientibus herbis ? 40 Sive opus in magnos fuit eminus ire leones, Aut avidos terrere lupos praesepibus altis ; Quis fando sopire diem, cantuque, solebit ? Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. Pectora cui credam ? quis me lenire docebit 45 Mordaces curas, quis longam fallere noctem Dulcibus alloquiis, grate cum sibilat igni MoUe pynim et nucibus strepitat focus, et malus Auster Miscet cuncta foris et desuper intonat ulmo ? Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 50 Aut sestate, dies medio dum vertitur axe. Cum Pan assculea somnum capit abditus umbra, Et repetunt sub aquis sibi nota sedilia nymphae, Pastoresque latent, stertit sub sepe colonus ; Quis mihi blanditiasque tuas, quis turn mihi risus 55 Cecropiosque sales referet cultosque lepores ? Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni At jam solus agros, jam pascua solus oberro, Sicubi ramosse densantur vallibus umbrae ; employed with past tenses than with There is a slight coniiision between the future. the notion of midday and that of 39 feta pruims] Virg. ^n. i. 51, the earth's turning on its axis ; 'locayJ/a furentibus Austris.' 'medio' implying that the revolu- 43 sopire diem] like ' condere tion is half completed, soles,' Virg. £. ix. 52. 52] From Theocr. Id. i. 16, 46] Todd comp. 'eating cares,' where the goatherd refuses to accept L' Allegro, 135, and ' curis morda- Thyrsis' invitation to sing, for fear cibus,' Lucan, Phars. ii. 681. of disturbing Pan during his midday 48 nucibus] probably 'chest- siesta. nuts,' sc. 'castaneis.' Cf. Virg. .£. 53] A partial reminiscence of ii. 52. Virg. jEn. i. 167. 'Sibi' is pro- 49 miscet cuncta] ' blurs all the bably to be taken after ' nota,' but landscape.' (See also Masson's is not wanted in the sentence. Translation.) Cf. Viig. G. i. 359, 56 Cecropios] = Atticos. Viig. /£». iv. 160. G. iv. 177. For 'Attic salt' cf 51] Lucan. Phars. iii. 423, Mart. Epigi: III. xx. 9, 'leport 'medio cum Phoebus in axe est.' tinctos Atticos sales. ' EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS. 113 Hie serum expecto ; supra caput imber et Eurus 60 Triste sonant, fractaeque agitata crepuscula.silvse. Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. Heu, quam culta mihi prius arva procacibus herbis Involvuntur, et ipsa situ seges alta fatiscit ! Innuba neglecto marcescit et uva racemo, 65 Nee myrteta juvant ; ovium quoque tsedet, at illte Moerent, inque suum eonvertunt era magistrum. Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vaeat, agni. Tityrus ad corylos vocat, Alphesiboeus ad ornos. Ad saliees Aegon, ad flumina pulcher Amyntas ; 70 ' Hie gelidi fontes, hie illita gramina musco, 60 serum] Livy, vii. 8, 'serum erat diei. ' Neither Ovid nor Virgil appears to have used the word as a noun in this sense. 61 agitata crepuscnla silvse] = silva per crepusculum agitata. Keightley explains it of 'the twi- light or doubtfiil light caused by the foliage,' and refers to the 'shadows brown' of // Penseroso, 134, and the 'chequered shade' oi L' Allegro, 96. Symmons quotes also from Cowper, Task, B. i. 347 — ' so sportive is the light, Shot through the boughs, it dances as they dance, Shadow and sunshine intermingling quick.' 64] Keightleywellobserves that the land' cracks asiu not situ (Virg. G. i. 72),' but he is wrong in supposing that ' seges' cannot mean the ground itself, since it is distinctly used in this sense by Virgil in G. i. 47 and iv. 129. In the former passage ' seges ' is the land after ploughing, but before any seed is sown, and in the latter it is the soil with reference to its future produce. Here how- ever the addition of 'alta' (which must mean tall) seems to force us to ti'anslate 'seges' 'afield of standing com,' which will not make any sense with 'fatiscit.' Masson's translation, 'the tall com sickens with mildew,' does not accurately ■ render the Latin verb. 65] For the ' marriage' of the vine with larger trees, see the passages cited on Lycidas, 40; also P. L. v. 215 foil. 'Uva' here must be the vine itself, as in Vifg. G. ii. 60, ' fert uva racemos.' It is difficult to see the force of Keightley's objec- tion to its being 'joined with "ra- cemo," which is a,part of it.' The latter is of course a modal ablative, or else the ablative absolute. 67] Referred to on Lycidas, 125. 69] 'Tityrus' &c. are all from Virgil's Eclogues. ' Milton may or may not have had particular ac- quaintances of his in view under these names' (Masson). 71] Partly imitated from G»Ilus' invitation to Lycoris, Virg. £. X. 42 ; the original is in Theoc.v. 33. 'Illita,' which means 'smeared' or ' spread on the surface,' does n,ot accurately express the idea of mpss growing among grass. Perhaps con- sita, or intersita (omitting 'hic')i would have been better. 114 EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS. ' Hie Zeph)^!, hie placidas interstrepit arbutus undas : ' Ista canunt surdo, fratices ego nactus abibam. Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. Mopsus ad hsec — nam me redeuntem forte notarat — 75 (Et callebat avium linguas, et sidera Mopsus,) ' Thyrsi, quid hoc ? ' dixit, ' quae te coquit improba bilis ? ' Aut te perdit amor, aut te male fascinat astrum ; ' Satuini grave saepe fuit pastoribus astrum, ' Intimaque obliquo figit praecordia plumbo.' 80 ' Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. Mirantur nymphag, et ' Quid te, Thjnrsi, futurum est ? 73] ' Surdo canere' was a pro- verb. Cf. Virg. E. X. 8, ' non canimus surdis;' Propert. IV. viii. 47, 'cantabunt surdo." Langhome ludicrously misunderstands the latter p»rt of this line, when he translates it 'I account of his titavels {Defmsio Se- G. iv. 457, 'dumftigeret;'.^». i. S, cunda pro Pop.Angl.) he did not 'dum conderet urbem.' go into Italy over the Alps, but 118 sodale] usually 'sodali,'be EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS. 117 Possem tot maria alta tot Interponere montes, Tot silvas tot saxa tibi fluviosque sonantes ! Ah certe extremum licuisset tangere dextram, Et bene compositos placide morientis ocellos, Et dixisse, 'Vale, nostri memor ibis ad astra.' Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. Quamquam etiam vestri nunquam meminisse pigebit, Pastores Tusci, Musis operata juventus, Hie Chans, atque Lepos ; et Tuscus tu quoque Damon, Antiqua genus unde petis Lucumonis ab urbe. O ego quantus cram, gelidi cum stratus ad Ami Murmura, populeumque nemus, qua mollior herba, Carpere nunc violas nunc summas carpere myrtos, Et potui Lycidse certantem audire Menalcam ! "5 130 cause originally an adjective. The abl. in e does however sometimes occur, e.g. Plin. Epist. ii. 13, ' sodale jucundius.' 119] Warton compares Eleg. iv. 21 (to Diodati) — ' Hei mihi, quot pelagi, quot montes interject! Me faciunt alia parte carere mei;' on vfhich he refers to Horn. //. i. 156— imvl\ jui£\a iroAAck juero^^ OSped T€ axdevTa Bikturird re iixh- effffa, and to Ovid, Trisi. IV. vii. 21 — ' Innumeri montes inter me teque, viaeque, Fluminaque et campi, nee freta pauca: jacent.' 125] Keightley is mistaken in supposing that ' vestri ' ought to be ' vestrum.' Zumpt, in his Latin Grammar (§431 of Schmitz' trans- lation), draws the distinction thus : ' The forms ending in -um are used as partitive genitives, e.g. titer jue nostrum, &c. ; but miserere nostri, &c.' He notes however that Z'i'j/rKWj does occur 'without any partitive meaning, e.g. "frequentia vestrum incredibilis," Cic. in Hull. ii. 21 ; but these are exceptional cases.' 126] See note on /. 13. 127 TusCus] See on Diodati's ' family in the Introduction to Ly- cidas. 128] Lucca was said to have been founded by Lucumon, an Etruscan king. During his second visit to Florence, Milton visited the place, no doubt on account of its connex- ion with Diodati (Masson, Life oj Milton, vol. i. p. 771). 132 certantem] i.e. at the 'private academies' referred to on /, 13. 'Lycidas' and 'Menalcas' are of course pastoral names for members of these societies ; not ' unknown,' as Keightley asserts, for Milton, in the sketch of his own life quotsd above, enumerates Gaddi, Fresco- baldi, Coltellini, Buonmattei, and Chimentelli, be-ides Dati and Fran- cini, who are mentioned belov/ ii8 EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS. Ipse etiam tentare ausus sum ; nee, puto, multum Displicui ; nam sunt at apud me, munera vestra, Fiscellae calathique, et cerea vincla cicute : 135 Quin et nostra suas docuerunt nomina fagos Et Datis et Francinus, erant et vocibus ambo Et studiis noti, Lydorum sanguinis ambo. Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agnL Haec mihi tum Iseto dictabat roscida luna, 140 Dum solus teneros claudebam cratibus haedos. Ah quoties dixi, cum te ciais ater habebat, Nunc canit aut lepori nunc tendit retia Damon, Vimina nunc texit, varios sibi quod sit in usus ! Et quae tum facili sperabam mente futura 145 Arripui voto levis et prsesentia finxi ; ' Heus bone ! numquid agis ? nisi te quid forte retardat, Imus ? et arguta paulum recubamus in umbra, (/. 137). Professor Masson (vol. i. p. 722 foil.) has given a full and detailed account of every one of them. On what follows, he remarks (vol. ii. p. 90, note) that there is 'a distinct reference to the two written encomiums by Dati and Francini,' and that the 'fiscellas,' &c., are doubtless 'poetical names for little presents actually received from Florentine friends.' 135 cerea vinola cicutse] = ' ci- cuta cereis vinculis compacta,' Virg. E. ii. 32, 36. 136 docuerunt, &c.] Cf. Virg. E. i. 5. 138] For the tradition about the Lydian origin of the Etruscans, see Herod, x. 94: HM^ativbv, . . OTTOirXeeiv Kara ^iov re koX t^s ^ijTriatv, h 5 iiriKiaBau is 'Op-PptKoiis, lv8a ivtSpi- iTcurBai iroKias. Virg. y£n. viii. 479, 'ubi J^j/tita quondam Gens bello praeclara jugis insedit Etmscis.' Warton refers to Hor. Sai. I. vi. i. 140 hffic] i.e. the thoughts ex- pressed in /. 143 foil. roscida luna] Viig. G. iii. 337. Warton compares Lycidas, 29, and for ' cratibus' the ' wattled cotes ' in Comus, 345, and Hor. Epod. ii. 45, 'claudensque textis cratibus Isetum pecus.' 142 cinis ater] a confusion be- tween the mould of the grave and the ashes of the dead ; for which, however, Milton has the authority of Virgil, yS«. iv. 633. 144] Virg. E. ii. 71 : ' Quin tu aliquid saltern potius quo- rum indiget usus Viminibus mollique paras detexere junco.' Possibly 'paras' in this passage may have induced Milton to write ' imus ' and ' recubamus ' (/. 148) where we should expect 'eamus' and 'recubemus,' or else the future ; since it is doubtful whether the pres, ind. can be so used without the 'quin.' As, how- EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS. 119 ' Aut ad aquas Colni aut ubi jugera Cassibekuni? ' Tu mihi percurres medicos, tua gramina, succos, ijjo ' Helleborumque humilesque crocos foliumque hyac;nthi, ' Quasque habet ista palus herbas artesque medentum.' Ah pereant herbse, pereant artesque medentum, Gramina postquam ipsi nil profecere magistro ! Ipse etiam, nam nescio quid mihi grande sonabat 155 Fistula, ab undecima jam lux est altera nocte, ever, ire (like ieVai) has in itself the sense of the future, ' imus ' might be allowed to stand, and the actual form of its tense may have in- fluenced that of the other verb. 149] The river Colne flows by Horton (see on /. 3). 'Jugera Cassibelauni ' are the district of St. Albans, the dominions of the British king Cassibelaun. Cf. Caesar, B. G. V. 1 1, ' Cassivellauno, cujus fines a maritimis civitatibus flumen dividit quod appellatur Tamesis.' 150 foil.] in allusion to Diodati's practice of medicine (see Introduc- tion to Lycidas). He is the ' shep- , herd-lad' in Comus, 619, 'well skilled In ever)' virtuous plant and healing herb.' There is a charac- teristic passage bearing upon this subject in Milton's letter to Diodati dated Sept. 23, 1637 : ' You wish me good health six hundred times, which is as much as I can desire, or even more. Surely you must lately have been appointed the very steward of Health's larder (salatis condum promum), so lavishly do you dispense all her stores, or at least Health should now certainly be your parafflte, since you so lord it over her ijiro rege iegeris), and com- mand her to attend your bidding. ' 153] Todd quotes the words of Phoebus to Daphne, Ovid, Mtt. i. 524, ' nee prosunt domino qu£e pro- sunt omnibus artes.' 155-178] For a detailed examina- tion of this interesting passage con- sult Masson, vol. ii. pp. 93-97. The two main points to be noticed are: (l) That Milton was already (in 1639) forming a plan of writing a British epic, which should extend from the legendary times of the Trojan Brutus to the reign of King Arthur ; (2) That he had deter- mined henceforth to write no more in Latin, but in English, so as to be read by all his countrymen from die Thames to the Humber, and from Cornwall to the Orkneys. This idea had occurred to him even while in Italy, and was fostered, if not first suggested, by the compliments of his Florentine friends upon his former productions; — 'that by la- bour and intent study, joined with the strong propensity of nature, I might perhaps leave something so written to aftertimes, as they should not willingly let it die ' (Reason of Church Government, B. ii. ). He soon afterwards abandoned the pro- ject in favour of a poem on a Scrip- tural subject, which ultimately took the form of the Paradise Lost, the materials he had collected for the British Epic being employed in his History of Britain, about 1649 or 1650. 155 grande, &c.] Cf. ' the strain of higher mood,' I.ycidas, 87. 156] From Virg. E. viii. 39, 'alter ab undecimo tum jam me acceperat annus;' where Conington EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS. Et tuiTi forte novis admoram labra cicutis, Dissiluere tamen rupta compage, nee ultra Ferre graves potuere sonos : dubito quoque ne sim Turgidulus, tamen et referam ; vos cedite silvae. i6o Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. Ipse ego Dardanias Rutupina per sequora puppes Dicam, et Pandrasidos regnum vetus Imogenise, Brennumque Arviragumque duces, priscumque Belinum, Et tandem Armoricos Britonum sub lege colonos ; 165 Turn gravidam Arturo fatal! fraude logemen, Mendaces vultus assumptaque Gorlois arma, remarks that the twelfth, and not the thirteenth, is meant, according to the ' inclusive mode of counting.' 159 graves] applied both lite- rally to the low tones of the pipe, and metaphorically to the dignity of the subject. Cowper's translation, ' the deep-toned music of the solemn strain,' well expresses both these ideas. 160 turgidulus] inflated with pride ; but this use of the word is barely classical, though 'turgida oratio' is said of a 'bombastic speech.' oedite silvsB] Cf. Vii^. E. x. 63, where Gallus bids farewell to a woodland life, because it cannot cure his passion, with the words ' concedite silvae.' 162 foil.] For the legends con- nected with each of these names, see Milton's History of Britain, B. i. ii., and Geoffrey of Monmouth, whence he derived the account. Brutus the Trojan, having rescued his countrymen from their servile condition under the Grecian prince PandrasKS, marries his daughter Imogen, and sets sail with his fol- lowers towards the west. He finally lands in Britain, on what is now the Kentish coast [Rutitfina a./uorn], and establishes a kingdom. Brcn- nus and Belinus are the sons of Dunwallo Molmutius, king of Cornwall. Some twenty genera- tions after Brutus, Arviragus, son of Cunobelin (Cymbeline), by per- sonating his slain brother Guiderius, is said to have gained a victory over the Roman emperor Claudius. The ' Armorici coloni ' were Britons who fled from the Saxon invaders in the time of Vortigem to Armo- rica, now Bretagne. The last legend (found in Geoffrey of Monmouth, but not told by Milton in his own History) is that of Uther Pendragon, who by Merlin's magic art assumed the form of Gorlois, king of Corn- wall, and thus obtained access to his wife logeme at Tintagel Castle, by whom he became the father of the famous Arthur. 165] Cf. P. L. i. 581. Armorica was peopled in the fourth century by a Welsh colony, under the Ro- man general Maximus and Carron, prince of Meiriadoc or Denbigh- land. Thierry {Norman Conquest, B. i. p. 16) says: 'They found people of their own stock there, and this agglomeration of branches of the Keltic race and language pre- served that western nook of France from the irruption of the Roman tongue. ' EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS. Merlini dolus. O mihi turn si vita supersit, Tu procul annosa pendebis, fistula, pinu,. Multum oblita mihi ; aut patriis mutata Camenis - Brittonicum strides, quid enim ? omnia non licet uni, Non sperasse uni licet omnia, mi satis ampla Merces, et mihi grande decus (sim ignotus in aevum Turn licet, extemo penitusque inglorius orbi,) Si me flava comas legat Usa et potor Alauni, Vorticibusque frequens Abra et nemus omne Treantse, Et Thamesis meus ante omnes et fusca metallis Tamara, et extremis me discant Orcades undis. Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 170 17s 169] Virg. E. vii. 24, 'Hie arguta sacra pendebis fistula pinu, ' a sign that he intended to sing no more. The sense should therefore be, ' Either I will abandon poetry- altogether, or else change it from Latin verse into English.' But if Prof Masson is right in explaining ' fistula ' of Latin poetry in particu- lar, the alternative ' aut — aut ' is merely formal, the real meaning being this : ' I will abandon Latin verse for English.' 'Patriis Ca- menis ' vrill then signify ' its native Muse,' i.e. the Latin. 171 strides] in reference to the rougher warlike themes he was about to celebrate. See Masson's translation, ' the British war- screech,' and compare the lines pre- fixed to Virgil's jEneid, ' lUe ego ... at nunc horrentia Martis.' ' Strides ' is the future of strido, a form which occurs in Virg. yS». iv. 689 ; viii. 420 ; Ovid, Met. ix. 171, &c. ^- ^ 172] Virg. E. cyii. 2^} 'non omnia possumus onines'.'" 173 in aevum] 'for all time,' Hor. Od. IV. xiv. 3. 175 TJsa] theOuse; but whether the Bucks or the Yorkshire river is here intended is uncertain, The former supposition is slightly sup- ported by the fact of Milton's resi- dence in Buckinghamshire ; while on the other hand the names of the rivers immediately following seem to point to a northern locality. Keightley, who adopts the latter view, refers to the Vacation Exer- cise, I. 92, where the Ouse is men- tioned in company with the Tweed, Don, and Trent. The epithet ' flava comas,' which applies gene- rally to the Saxon race, does not help towards deciding the question. The other rivers are the Alan in Northumberland, the Huniber (pro- perly ' Abus '), Trent, Thames, and Tamar in Cornwall, hence ' fusca metallis.' With ' potor Alauni' cf Hor. Od. II. xx. 20, ' Rhodanique potor,' also IV. xv. 21, 'qui Tanain bibunt.' 176] 'Treanta' seems to be formed from the modem name of the river ; the Romans called it Trivona. 177 Thamesis meus] Keightley compares Spenser, F. Q. IV. xi. 41, ' And Mulla mine whose waves I whilom taught to weep,' EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS. Haec tibi servabam lenta sub cortice lauri, Haec et plura simul ; turn quae mihi pocula Mansus, Mansus Chalcidicae non ultima gloria ripse, Bina dedit, mirum artis opus, mirandus et ipse, I So 1 80 hsec] probably refers to the British poem, which when com- pleted he intended to submit to his friend for criticism. Thus in the 6th Elegy (//. 79 foil.) he tells Dio- dati that he has been writing a hymn upon the Nativity, upon which he will ask his opinion — 'Te quoque pressa manent patriis meditata cicutis ; Tu mihi cui recitem judicis instar eris.' See also his letter of Sept. 23, 1637, containing an account of the studies in which he was then en- 181-197] On the strength of this passage, Prof. Masson (adopting a suggestion of Warton's) asserts that Manso had actually given Milton a pair of chased goblets. Keightley on the other hand considers it to be merely a poetical description after I Theocritus (Id. i. 27 foil.) and Virgil (E. iii. 36 foil. ) of some other tokens of Manso's esteem. All we know for certain is that he had sent Milton a complimentary elegiac couplet — ' Ut mens forma decor facies mos, si pietas sic, Non Anglus, varum hercle An- gelus ipse fores.' Also in the account of his travels, to which we have before referred, Milton says that Manso ' gave him singular proofs of his regard,' which may reasonably be supposed to have taken some tangible form ; the more so, because it is further stated that Manso had excused him- self for not paying him greater per- sonal attention, on account of his free speaking on religious matters. With all due deference to Mr. Keightle/s opinion, as to the in- herent improbability of the matter, we should be disposed to say that a pair of silver cups would be a very likely present from a wealthy Nea- politan virtuoso to his English friend ; nor is this likelihood really diminished by the mere fact of .simi- lar representations in Theocritus and Virgil, especially when we bear in mind that no part of the details of Milton's description is in any way borrowed from theirs. And when we proceed to examine these details fiirther, both the singularity of the subjects choren and the mi- nuteness of each point in the picture render it almost impossible to sup- pose that we have here a mere in- vention of the poet, and not an actual thing described. It is of course barely possible that such may have been the case, but the proba- bility seems to lie very strongly the other way. 182] Naples (Neapolis) was founded by the Cumseans, who were originally colonists ironi Chalcis in Euboea. Cf. Livy. viii. 22, 'Cu- mani ab Chalcide Euboica originem trahunt' Hence the rock of Cumie is called ' Chalcidica arx ' in Virg. yEn. vi. 17. Milton may have purposely used the older name in recognition of the antiquity of Man- so's family. Cf. 'Lydorum san- guinis ambo,' /. I'ii supra. Warton curiously quotes ' Chalcidico versu,' Virg. E. X. 50, which alludes to Euphorion, a poet of Chalcis, but has nothing to do either with Cumx or with Naples. EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS. 123 Et circum gemino ceelaverat argumento : In medio rabri maris unda et odoriferum ver, 185 Littora longa Arabum et sudantes balsama silvae ; Has inter Phoenix, divina avis, unica terris, Caeruleum fulgens diversicoloribus alis, Auroram vitreis surgentem respicit undis ; Parte alia polus omnipatens et magnus Olympus : 190 Quis putet ? hie quoque Amor pictaeque in nube pharetrae, Arma corusca faces, et spicula tincta pyropo ; Nee tenues animas pectusque ignobile vulgi, Hinc ferit ; at circum flammantia lumina torquens Semper in erectum spargit sua tela per orbes 195 Impiger, et pronos nunquam collimat ad ictus : 184 cselaverat argumento] Ovid, Met. xiii. 68/ ^ 187] For the fable of the Phoenix see Ovid, Mei. xv. 391 foil. ; Amor. II. vi. 54 ; Pliny, JVai. Hist. X. ii. 2. unica terris] Of. P. L. v. 272, ' that sole bird.' 188] ' Diversicolor ' is post-clas- sical ; the regular word is versi- color, Virg. ^n. A. 181 ; Livy, XXXIV. i. 3, &c. 190 omnipatens] seems to be a word of Milton's own coining. 191, ftuis putet %\ expressing ad- miration ; something like the Greek TTois SoKcij ; as in Aristoph.. Nubes, 881, ^K Tav fftSiat' fiarpdx'"'^ ^oUi, TT a ^ 5oK6(S ; 192] If 'arma corusca faces' is the right reading, it can only mean ' arms gleaming with [the light of] his torches.' gut this is a very bold use of the so-called Greek accusa- tive, and one which no existing ex- pression in any Latin writer seems to justify. Perhaps the nearest ap- proach to it is to be found in Hor. £/. I. vi. 74, ' Pueri suspensi locu- los tabulamque ;' but this may be explained as a mere variety of the ordinary phrases ' indutus vestem,' &c. , which will hardly include the instance before us. The insertion of a comma after 'corusca,' thus making ' faces ' the nominative, would remove the difficulty ; but I have not ventured to introduce this change of punctuation into the text. pyropo] a kind of bronze, of a fiery red colour, named from iriip- uTtos, which is an epithet of the lightning-bolt in jEsch. Prom. 667. Cf. Ovid, Met. ii. 2, , ' flammas imitante pyropo.' In Met. i. 469 Cupid is described with two darts, one tipped with gold, the other with lead — ' fugat hoc, facit illud amorem. Quod facit auratum est, et cuspide fulget acuta ; Quod fiigat obtusum est, et habet sub arundine plumbum.' 195 in erectum] the neuter adj. used substantively, ' into an elevated region.' Cf. ' per arduum,' Hor. Od. II. xix. 21. per orbes] 'among the stars' (Warton). 124 EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS. Hinc mentes ardere sacrae formaeque deorum. Tu quoque in his, nee me fallit spes lubrica, Damon, Tu quoque in his certe es, nam quo tua dulcis abiret Saoctaque simplicitas, nam quo tua Candida virtus ? Nee te Letheeo fas qusesivisse sub orco. Nee tibi conveniunt lacrimae, nee flebimus ultra : Ite procul, lacrimse ; purum colit aethera Damon, ^thera purus habet, pluvium pede reppulit arcum ; Heroumque animas inter divosque perennes ^thereos haurit latiees, et gaudia potat Ore sacro. Quin tu, coeli post jura recepta, Dexter ades placidusque fave quicunque vocaris, Seu tu noster eris Damon, sive aequior audis 205 196 coUimat] ' takes aim.' The word collimare is now understood not to exist ; it was formerly found in editions of Cicero, Gellius, &c., the supposed meaning being ' to look «^i?/o«^ at anything' (as if from the adj. limus), but it has been expunged everywhere as a mistake for collimare, 'to aim in a straight line.' ■ 197] Keightley remarks that 'di- vine, not sensual love is here spoken of.' See /*. L. viii. 592; Comus, 1004 ; Quarles, Emblems, ii. 8. Milton was doubtless familiar with the magnificent description of Celes- tial Love in Plato's Symposium (c. 8) and Phadrus (c. 30 foil.). 198-219] The mention of ' sacred minds and forms divine ' leads the poet to describe that state of hea- vnly bliss which he is assured that the soul of his friend is now enjoy- ing. This passage will bear a close comparison with that in Lycidas, 165 foil., both as regards the general sentiment and some particular ex- pressions ; there is the same juxta- position of classical and Scriptural imagery, only here the former largely predominates, as might be expected from the form of the poem and the language in which it is written. The apotheosis of Daphnis in Virgil's 5th Eclogue seems to have been chiefly before Milton's mind on both occasions. 200 sancta simplicitas] Cf. 1- 33- 201 qusesivisse] The perfect tense has great force here. The first im- pulse of grief was to mourn the departed one as lost and gone, but it is presently rejected for an ex- pression of belief in his immortality. See Lycidas, 165, 166, 204 ; Virg. .£.v.56, 57. The fine idea of spring- ing upwards from the arc of the rainbow is partly due to Virgil, G. iv. 233, where the rising Pleiad is said to ' spurn with her foot the Ocean stream' (' Oceani spretos pede reppulit amnes '). 205] Keightley comp. Hor. Od. III. iii. II, 'Quos inter Augustus recumbcns Purpureo bibit ore nec- tar.' 208] See note and ieB.OTiI,ycidas, 184. 209 audis] as in Hor. Sat. II. vi. 20, ' seu J ane libentius audis.' Different names of a god implied EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS. Diodatus, quo te divino nomine ciincti Coelicolae norint, silvisque vocabere Damon. Quod tibi purpureus pudor .et sine labe juventus Grata fuit, quod nulla tori libata voluptas, En etiam tibi virginei servantur honores ; Ipse caput nitidum cinctus rutilante corona, Laetaque frondentis gestans umbracula palmae, Sternum parages immortales hymenaeos ; Cantus ubi choreisque furit lyra mista beatis, Festa Sionseo bacchantur et Orgia thyrso. 125 210 215 different attributes (Exodus vi. 3) ; whence arose the idea that one name would on certain occasions be more acceptable than another. Thus the Chorus in j^^sch. Agam. 155 exclaims : Zeis, iaris ttot' itrTiv, ei r6S ain^ ^ihov KeKKtifUviji, tovt6 VLV Trpoff^vvejru. 210 Siodatns] 'God-given,' hence 'divino nomine.' One of Diodati's letters begins with the words 06oo'5(Jtos MfArwyt x^P^^^ (see Introduction, p. 31). 211 silvisj i.e. by us shepherds. 212] Richardson comp. Ovid, Amor. I. iii. 14, ' Nudaque simpli- citas purpureusque pudor.' The latter is the rosy blush of modesty ; cf Virg. ^n. i. 591, 'lumenque juventse Purpureum' (see note on Lycidas, 141). 214] Warton observes that Dio- dati was unmarried, and quotes Rev. xiv. 3, 4. Cf. also Bp. Taylor, Holy Living, xi. 3 (quoted by Keble in the Christian Year, Wednesday before Easter), 'that little coronet or special reward, which God hath prepared for those "who have not defiled themselves vrith women, but follow the Lamb for ever." ' 216 palms] Rev. vii. 9. 217 hymenseos] See Lycidas, 176 and note. 219 thyrso] the instrumental ab- lative, ' und^r the inspiration of the thyrsus,' the instrument which ex- cited the Bacchantes to phrensy. We have here perhaps the most startling instance to be found in Milton's poetry of that blending of sacred with pagan imagery, to which reference has so often been made. Such a conception as is here presented to us can only be account- ed for (and even then not wholly excused) on the hypothesis that partly from the custom of the period, , partly from his own literary associa- tions, the images derived from clas- sical mythology had become so familiar to Milton's mind that their precise original import was for the time forgotten. To suppose that he would seriously have admitted any real compiarison between the orgies of Dionysus and the joys of the saints in glory would be to contra- dict all that we know, from other sources, of his genuine piety and the intense sincerity of his devotion. TRANSLATION OF THE EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS. By Charles Symmons, D.D. Jesus Coll. Oxon., 1806. Damon, a n Epitaphial Elegy. Ye nymphs of Himera (whose stream along The notes have floated of your mournful song, As Daphnis or as Hylas you deplored. Or Bion, once the shejiherds' tuneful lord;) Lend your Sicilian softness to proclaim 5 The woes of Thyrsis on the banks of Thame; What plaints he murmured to the springs and floods, How waked the sorrowing echoes of the woods. As frantic for his Damon lost, alone He roamed, and taught the sleepless night to groan. 10 Twice the green blade had bristled on the plain, And twice the golden ear enriched the swain, Since Damon by a doom too strict expiredj And his pale eye his absent friend required. For Thyrsis still his wished return delayed; ^5 The Muses held him in the Tuscan shade. But jjrhen with satiate taste and careful thought His long-forgotten home and flock he sought, AKi then, beneath the accustomed elm reclined. All — all his loss came rushing to his mind. 20 Undone and desolate, for transient ease He poured his swelling heart in strains like these : Return unfed, my lambs ; by fortune crost Your hapless master now to you is lost! What powers shall I of earth or heaven invoke^ 25 Since Damon fell by their relentless stroke ? EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS. 127 And shall thou leave us thus ? and shall thy worth Sleep in a nameless grave with common eartl) ? But heu whose wand the realms of death controls Forbids thy shade to blend with common souls. 30 While these o'erawed disperse at his command, He leads thee to thy own distinguished band. Return unfed, my lambs; by fortune crost^ Your hapless master now to you is lost/ And sure, unless beneath some evil eye, 35 That blights me with its glance, my powers should die. Thou shall not slumber on thy timeless bier ' Without the meed of one melodious tear.' Long shall thy name, thy virtues long remain In fond memorial with the shepherd train ; 40 Their festive honours and their votive lay To thee, as to their Daphnis, they shall pay, — Their Daphnis thou, as long as Pales loves The springing meads, or Faunus haunts the groves; If aught of power or faith and truth attend, 45 Palladian science and a Muse thy friend. Return unfed, my lambs; by fortune crost Your hapless master now to you is lost! Yes, Damon, thee such recompenses wait. — But ah ! what ills hang gloomy o'er my fate ? 50 Who now, still faithful to my side, will bear Keen frosts or suns that parch the sickening air, When boldly, to protect the distant fold. We seek the growling savage in his hold ? Who now, as we retrace thelo ng rough, w ay. 55 With tale or song will soSlKe^the weary day ? Return unfed, my lambs ; by fortune crost Your hapless master now to you is lost! To whom my bosom shall I now confide .■' At whose soft voice will now my cares subside ? 60 Who now will cheat the night with harmless mirth. As the nut crackles on the glowing hearth. Or the pear hisses, — ^while without the storm Roars through the wood and ruffles nature's form ? Return unfed, my lambs; by fortune crost 65 Your hapless master now to you is lost! In summer too, at noontide's sultry hour, 128 EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS. When Pan lies sleeping in his beechen bower ; When diving from the day's opprpssive heat The panting Naiad seeks her crystal seat ; 70 When every shepherd leaves the silent plain, And the green hedge protects the snoring swain ; Whose playful fancy then shall light the smile? Whose Attic tongue relieve my languid toil ? Return unfed, my lambs j by fortune crost 75 Your hapless tnaster flow to you is lost! Ah ! now through meads and va les alone I s tray, Or linger sad where woods embrown the day ; As drives the storm, and Eiiru^o'er inyTiead Breaks the loose twilight of the billowy shade. 8o Rettirn unfed, my lambs ; by fortune crost Your hapless master now to you is lost! My late trim fields their laboured culture scorn> And idle weeds insult my drooping com ; My widowed vine in prone dishonour sees 85 Her clusters wither; — not a shrub can please. E'en my sheep tire me ; they with upward eyes Gaze at my grief, and seem to feel my sighs. Return unfed, my lambs ; by fortune crost Your hapless master now to you is lost! 90 My shepherd friends, by various tastes inclined. Direct my steps the sweetest spot to find. This likes the ha^pl, that the beechen grove ; One bids me herfcj one there for pleasure rove. Aegon the willow's pensile shade delights, 95 And gay Amyntgs^to the streams invites. ' Here are cool fountains ; here is mossy grass ; ' Here zephyrs softly whisper as they pass. ' From this light spring yon arbute draws her green, ' The pride and beauty of the sylvan scene.' 100 Deaf is my woe, and while they speak in vain, I plunge into the copse and hide my pain. Return unfed, my lambs; by fortune crost Your hapless master now to you is lost ! Mopsus surprised me in my sullen mood, 105 (Mopsus who knew the language of the wood ; Knew all the stars, could all their junctions spell.) And thus ; — 'What passions in your bosom swell? EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS. 129 'Speak ! flows the poison from disastrous love? ' Or falls the mischief star-sent from above ? ' no ' For leaden Saturn, with'his chill control, ' Oft has shot blights into the shepherd's soul.' Return unfed, my lambs j by fortune crost ' Your hapless master now to you is lost.' The wandering nymphs exclaim — ' What, Thyrsis, now ? 1 1 5 ' Those heavy eyelids and that cloudy brow ' Become not youth ; to youth the jocund song, ' Frolic and dance and wanton wiles belong. ' With these he courts the joys that suit his state ; 'Ah ! twice unhappy he who loves too late !' 120 Return unfed, my lambs; by fortune crost Your hapless master now to you is lost.' With Dryope and Hyas, ./Egle came, A lovely lyrist, but a scornful dame. From Chelmer's banks fair Chloris joined the train ; 125 But vain their blandishments, their solace vain. Dead is my hope, and pointless beauty's dart To waken torpid pleasure in my heart. Return unfed, my lambs; by fortune crost Your hapless master now to you is lost! 130 How blest where, none repulsed and none preferred, One common friendship blends the lowing herd ! Touched by no subtle magnet in the mind. Each meets a comrade when he meets his kind. Conspiring wolves enjoy this equal love, 13S And this the zebra's parti-coloured drove ; This too the tribes of ocean, and the flock Which Proteus feeds beneath his vaulted rock. The sparrow, fearless of a lonely state. Has ever for his social wing a mate ; 140 Whom should the falcon or the marksman strike, He soon repairs his loss and finds a like. But we, by Fate's severer frown oppressed. With war and sharp repulsion in the breast. Can scarcely meet amid the human throng 145 One kindred soul, or met preserve him long. When fortune, now determined to be kind, Yields the rich gift, and mind is linked to mind, K 1-30 EPITAPHIUM DAMON IS. Death mocks the fond possession, bursts the chain, And plants the bosom with perennial pain. 150 Return unfed, my lambs ; by fortune crost Your hapless master now to you is lost.' Alas ! what madness tempted me to stray Where other suns on distant regions play ? To tread aerial paths and Alpine snows, 155 Scared by stern Nature's terrible repose ? Ah ! could the sepulchre of buried Rome Thus urge my frantic foot to spurn my home ? Though Rome were now, as once in pomp arrayed She drew theMantuan from his flock and shade ; s6o Ah ! could she lure me from thy faithful side, Lead'me where rocks would part us, floods divide, Forests and lofty mountains intervene, Whole realms extend and oceans roar between ? Ah, wretch ! denied to press thy fainting hand, 165 Close thy dim eyes and catch thy last command • To say — ' My friend, O think of all our love, / ' And bear it glowing to the realms above !' / Return unfed,^ my lambs; by fortune crost Your hapless master now to you is lost ! 170 Yet must I not deplore the hours that flew, Ye Tuscan swains, with science and with you ; — ' Each Grace and Muse is yours,' — and yours my Damon too. From ancient Lucca's Tuscan walls became. With you in country, talents, arts the same. 175 How happy, lulled by Arno's warbling stream, Hid by his poplars from day's flaring beam, When stretched along the fragrant moss I lay. And culled the violet or plucked the bay ; Or heard, contending for the rural prize, 180 Famed Lycid's and Menalcas' melodies. I too essayed to sing, nor vainly sung ; This flute, these baskets speak my victor tongue — And Datis and Francinus, swains who trace Their Tuscan lineage to the Lydian race, 185 Dear to the Muses both, with friendly care Taught their carved trees my favoured name to bear. Return unfed, my lambs; by fortune crost Your hapless master now to you is lost I EPITAPHIU-M DAMONIS. 131 Then, as the moonbeam slumbered on the plain, 190 I penned my fold, and sung in cheerful strain ; And oft exclaimed, unconscious of my doom. As your pale ashes mouldered in the tomb— ' Now he is singing ; now my friend prepares ' His twisted osiers or his wiry snares ! ' 195 Then would rash fancy on the future seize, And hail you present in such words as these — 'What? loitering here? unless some cause dissuade, ' Haste and enjoy with me the whispering shade ; ' Or where his course the lucid Colnus bends, 200 ' Or where Cassibelan's domain extends. ' There shew what herbs in vale or upland grow, ' The harebell's ringlet and the saffron's glow ; * There teach me all the physic of the plains, ' What healing virtues swell the floret's veins.' 205 Ah ! perish all the healing plants, confest Too weak to save the swain who knew them best ! As late a new-compacted pipe I found, It gave beneath my lips a loftier sound ; Too high indeed the notes ; for as it spoke 210 The waxen junctures in the labour broke. Smile as you may, I will not hide from you. The ambitious strain ; — ye woods, awhile adieu ! Return unfed, my lambs ; by fortune crost Your hapless master now to you is lost 1 215 High on Rutupium's cliffs my muse shall hail The first white gleamings of the Dardan sail ; Shall sing the realms by Imogen controUedj And Brennus, Arvirage, and Belin old ; Shall sing Armorica at length subdued 220 By British steel in Gallic blood imbrued ; And Uther in the form of Gorlois led By Merlin's fraud to logerne's bed, ■ Whence Arthur sprang. If length of days be mine, My shepherd's pipe shall hang on yon old pine 225 In long neglect; or tuned to British strains With British airs shall please my native swains. But wherefore so ? alas ! no human mind Can hope for audience all the human kind. 132 EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS. Enough for me ; I ask no more renown 23ff (Lost to the world, to Britain only known), If yellow-tressfed Usa read my lays, Alain and gulphy Humber sound my praise, Trent's sylvan echoes answer to my song, My own dear Thames my warbled notes prolong ; 235 Ore- tinctured Tamar own me foriier bard, And Thule mid her utmost flood regard. Return unfed, my lambs; by fortune crost Your hapless master now to you is lost ! These lays, and more like these, for thee designed 240 I wrote, and folded in the laurel's rind. For thee I also kept, of antique mould, Two spacious goblets, rough with laboured gold. (Rare was the gift, but yet the giver more, Mansus the pride of the Chalcidian shore). 245 In bold existence, from the workman's hand. Two subjects on their fretted surface stand. Here by the Red Sea coast, in length displayed, Arabia pants beneath her odorous shade ; And here the Phoenix from his spicy throne, 250 In heavenly plumage radiant and alone. Himself a kind, beholds with flamy sight The wave first kindle with the morning light. There on another side the heavens unfold. And great Olympus shines in brighter gold. 255 Strange though it seems, conspicuous on the scene The god of love displays his infant mien ; Dazzling his arms, his quiver, torch and bow. His brilliant shafts with points of topaz glow. With these he meditates no common wound, 260 But proudly throws a fiery glance around ; And scorning vulgar aims, directs on high His war against the people of the sky ; Thence struck with sacred flame the ethereal race Rush to new joys, and heavenly minds embrace. 265 With these is Damon now, my hope is sure j Yes ! with the just, the holy and the pure. My Damon dwells ; — 'twere impious to surmise Virtues like his could rest below the skies. EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS. 133 Then cease our tears ! from his superior seat 270 He sees the showery arch beneath his feet ; And mixed with heroes and with gods above Quaffs endless draughts of life, and joy and love. But thou, when fixed on thy empyreal throne, When heaven's eternal rights are all thy own, 275 O still attend us from thy starry sphere, Still as we call thee by thy name most dear, Diodatus above — but yet our Damon here ! As thine was roseate purity, that fled In youth abstemious from the nuptial bed, 280 Thy virgin triumphs heavenly spousals wait ; — Lo ! where it leads along its festal state ; A crown of living lustre binds thy brow. Thy hand sustains the palm's immortal bough ; While the full song, the dance, the frantic lyre, \ 285 And Sion's thyrsus wildly waved conspire To solemnise the rites, and boundless joys inspire. THE SAME By Professor Masson, 1873.— Reprinted from his 'Life OF Milton,' Vol. II. p. 85. On the Death of Damon. The Argument. Thyrsis and Damon, shepherds of the same neighbourhood, following the same pursuits, were friends from their boyhood, in the highest degree of mutual attachment. Thyrsis, having set out to travel for mental improvement, received news when abroad of Damon's death. Afterwards at length returning, and finding the matter to be so, he deplores himself and his solitary condition in the following poem. Under the gui.se of Damon, however, is here understood Charles Diodati, tracing his descent on the father's side from the Tuscan city of Lucca, but otherwise English — a youth remarkable, while he lived, for his genius, his learning, and other most shining virtues. Nymphs of old Himera's stream (for ye it was that remembered Daphnis and Hylas when dead, and grieved for the sad fate of Bion), Tell through the hamlets of Thames this later Sicilian story — What were the cries and murmurs that burst from Thyrsis the wretched. What lamentations continued he wrung from the caves and the rivers, Wrung from the wandering brooks and the grove's most secret recesses, Mourning his Damon lost, and compelling even the midnight Into the sound of his woe, as he wandered in desolate places. Twice had the ears in the wheat-fields shot through the green of their sheathing. As many crops of pale gold were the reapers counting as garnered. Since the last day that had taken Damon down from the living^ EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS. 135 Thyrsis not being by ; for then that shepherd was absent, „„«»» Kept by the Muse's sweet love in the far-famed town of the Tuscan. But, when his satiate mind, and the care of his floclc recollected, Brought him baclc to his home, and he sat, as of old, 'neath the elm-tree. Then at last, O then, as the sense of his loss comes upon him. Thus he begins to disburthen all his measureless sorrow : — Go unpastured, my lambs : your master now heeds not your' bleating. Ah me ! what deities now shall I call on in earth or in heaven, After the pitiless death by which they have reft thee, my Damon ? Thus dost thou leave us ? thus without name is thy virtue departed Down to the world below, to take ranli with the shadows unnoted ? No ! May He that disparteth souls with his glittering baton Will it not so, but lead thee into some band of the worthies. Driving far from thy side all the mere herd of the voiceless ! Go unpastured, my lambs: your master now heeds not your bleating. Hap as it may, unless the wolf's black glance shall first cross me. Not in a tearless tomb shall thy loved mortality moulder ; Stand shall thine honour for thee, and long henceforth shall it flourish Mid our shepherd -lads ; and thee they shall joy to remember Next after Daphnis chief, next after Daphnis to praise thee. So long as Pales and Faunus shall love our fields and our meadows. If it avails to have cherished the faith of the old and the loyal, Pallas's arts of peace, and have had a tuneful companion ! Go unpastured, my lambs : your master now heeds not your bleating. Kept are these honours for thee, and thine they shall be, my Damon ! But for myself what remains ? For me what faithful companion Now will cling to my side, in the place of the one so familiar, All through the season harsh when the grounds are crisp with the snow-crust, Or 'neath the blazing sun when the herbage is dying for moisture ? Were it the task to go forth in the track of the ravaging lions. Or to drive back from the folds the wolf-packs boldened by hunger, Who would now lighten the day with the sound of his talk or his singing ? 136 EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS. Go unpastured, my lambs : your master now heeds not your bleating. Whom shall I trust with my thoughts ; or who will teach me to deaden Heart-hid pains ; or who will cheat away the long evening Sweetly with chat by the fire, where hissing hot on the ashes Roasts the ripe pear, and the chestnuts crackle beneath, while the South-wind Hurls confusion without, and thunders down on the elm- tops ? Go unpastured, my lambs : your master now heeds not your bleating. Then, in the summer, when day spins roimd on his middlemost axle. What time Pan takes his sleep concealed in the shade of the beeches, And when the nymphs have repaired to their well-known grots in the rivers, Shepherds are not to be seen and under the hedge snores the rustic, Who will bring me again thy blandishing ways and thy laughter, All thy Athenian jests, and all the fine wit of thy fancies ? Go unpastured, my lambs : your master now heeds not your bleating. Now all lonely I wander over the fields and the pastures. Or where the branchy shades are densest down in the valleys ; There I wait till late, while the shower and the storm-blast above me Moan at their will, and sighings shake through the breaks of the woodlands. Go unpastured, my lambs : your master now heeds not your bleating. Ah ! how my fields, once neat, are now overgrown and unsightly, Fonvard only in weeds, and the tall corn sickens with mildew ! Mateless, my vines droop down the shrivelled weight of their clusters ; Neither please me my myrtles ; and even the sheep are a trouble ; They seem sad, and they turn their faces, poor things, to their master ! Go unpastured, my lambs : your master now heeds not your bleating. Tityrus calls to the hazels ; to the ash-trees Alphesiboeus ; ./Egon suggests the willows ; ' The streams,' says lovely Amyntas ; ' Here are the cool springs, here the moss-broidered grass and the hillocks ; ' Here are the zephyrs, and here the arbutus whispers the ripple.' EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS. 137 These things they sing to the deaf; so I took to the thickets and left them. Go unpastured, my lambs : your master now heeds not your , bleating. Mopsus addressed me next, for he had espied me returning (Wise in the language of birds, and wise in the stars too, is Mopsus) : ' Thyrsis,' he said, ' what is this ? what bilious humour afflicts thee ? ' Either love is the cause, or the blast of some star inauspicious; ' Saturn's star is of all the oftenest deadly to shepherds, ' Fixing deep in the breast his slant leaden shaft of sickness.' Go unpastured, my lambs : your master now heeds not your bleating. Round me fair maids wonder ; ' What will come of thee, Thyrsis ? ' What wouldst thou have?' they say : 'not commonly see we the young men 'Wearing that cloud on the brow, the eyes thus stern and the visage : ' Youth seeks the dance and sports, and in all will tend to be wooing : ' Rightfully so : twice wretched is he who is late in his loving.' Go unpastured, my lambs :~"your master now heeds not your bleating. Dryope came, and Hyas, and ^gle, the daughter of Baucis (Learned is she in the song and the lute, but O what a pr,oud one !) ; Came to me Chloris also, the maid from the banks of the Chelmer. Nothing their blandishings move me, nothing their prattle of comfort ; Nothing the present can move me, nor any hope of the future. Go unpastured, my lambs : your master now heeds not your bleating. Ah me ! how like one another the herds frisk over the meadows, AH by the law of their kind, companions equally common ; No one selecting for friendship this one rather than that one Out of the' flock ! So come in droves to their feeding the jackals ; So in their turns pair also the rough untameable zebras. Such too the law of the deep, where Proteus down on the shingle Numbers his troops of sea-calves. Nay, that meanest of wing-'d ones, See how the sparrow has always near him a fellow, when flying 138 EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS. Round by the barns he chirrups, but seeks his own thatch ere it darkens ; Whom should fate strike lifeless — whether the beak of the falcon Pin him in air, or he lie transfixed by the reed of the ditcher — Quick the survivor is off, and a moment finds him remated. We axe the hard race, we, the battered children of fortune, We of the breed of men, strange-minded and different-moulded ! Scarcely does any discover his one true mate among thousands ; Or, if kindlier chance shall have given the singular blessing. Comes a dark day on the creep, and comes the hour unexpected, Snatching away the gift, and leaving the anguish eternal. Go unpastured, my lambs : your master now heeds not your bleating. Ah ! what roaming whimsy drew my steps to a distance. Over the rocks hung in air and the Alpine passes and glaciers 1 Was it so needful for me to have seen old Rome in her ruins — Even though Rome had been such as, erst in the days of her gieatness, Tityrus, only to visit, forsook both his flocks and his country — * That but for this I consented to lack the use of thy presence. Placing so many seas and so many mountains between us. So many woods and rocks and so many murmuring rivers ? Ah ! at the end at least to have touched his hand had been given me, Closed his beautiful eyes in the placid hour of his dying. Said to my friend, ' Farewell ! in the world of the stars think of meV Go unpastured, my lambs : your master now heeds not your bleating. Albeit also of you my memory never shall weary, Swains of the Tuscan land, well-practised youths in the Muses, Here there was grace and lightness ; Tuscan thou too, my Damon, Tracing the line of thy race from the ancient city of Lucca ! O, how mighty was I, when, stretched by the stream of the Amo Murmuring cool, and where the poplar-grove softens the herbage, Violets now I would pluck, and now the sprigs of the myrtle, Hearing Menalcas and Lycidas vying the while in their ditties ! / also dared the challenge ; nor, as I reckon, the hearers Greatly disliked my trials — ^for yet the tokens are with me, Rush-plaits, osier nets, and reed-stops of wax, which they gave me. Ay more : two of the group have taught our name to their beech- woods — EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS. 139 Dati and also Francini, both of them notable shepherds, As well in lore as in voice, and both of the blood of the Lydian. Go unpastured, my lambs : your master now heeds not your bleating. Then too the pleasant dreams which the dewy moon woke within me, Penning the young kids alone within their wattles at even ! Ah ! how often I said, when already the black mould bewrapt thee, ' Now my Damon is singing, or spreading his snares for the leveret ; ' Now he is weaving his twig-net for some of his various uses.' What with my easy mind I hoped as then in the future Lightly I seized with the wish and fancied as present before me. 'Ho, my friend!' I would cry: 'art busy? If nothing prevent thee, ' Shall we go rest somewhere in some talk-favouring covert, ' Or to the waters of Colne, or the fields of Cassibelaunus ? ' There thou shalt run me over the list of thy herbs and their juices, ' Foxglove, and crocuses lowly, and hyacinth-leaf with its blossom, ' Marsh-plants also that grow for use in the art of the healer.' iPerish the plants each one, and perish all arts of the healer Gotten of herbs, since nothing served they even their master ! / too — for strangely my pipe for some time past had been sounding Strains of an unknown strength— 'tis one day more than eleven since Thus it befell— and perchance the reeds I was trying were new ones : Bursting their fastenings, they flew apart when touched, and no farther Dared to endure the grave sounds : I am haply in this over- boastful ; Yet I will tell out the tale. Ye woods, yield your honours and listen ! Go unpastured, my lambs : your master now heeds not your bleafing. I have a theme of the Trojans cruising our southern headlands Shaping to song, and the realm of Imogen, daughter of Pandras, Brennus and Arvirach, dukes, and Bren's bold brother, Belinus ; Then the Armorican settlers under the laws of the Britons, Ay, and the womb of Igraine fatally pregnant with Arthur, 140 EPITAPHIUM DAM0NI3. Uther's son, whom he got disguised in Gorlois' likeness, All by Merlin's craft. O then, if life shall be spared me. Thou shalt be hung, my pipe, far off on some brown dying pine- tree, Much forgotten of me ; or else yon Latian music Changed for the British war-screech ! What then ? For one to do all things. One to hope all tnings, fits not ! Prize sufficiently ample Mine, and distinction great (unheard of ever thereaifter Though I should be, and inglorious, all through the world of the stranger), If but yellow-haired Ouse shall read me, the drinker of Alan, Humber, which whirls as it flows, and Trent's whole valley of orchards, Thames, my own Thames, above all, and Tamar's western waters, Tawny with ores, and where the white waves swinge the ftr Orkneys. Go unpastured, my lambs : your master now heeds not your bleating. These I was keeping for thee, wrapt up in the rind of the laurel. These and other things with them j and mainly the two cups which Manso — Manso, not the last of Southern Italy's glories — Gave me, a wonder of art, which himself, a wonder of nature. Carved with a double design of his own well-skilled invention : Here the Red Sea in the midst, and the odoriferous summer, Araby's winding shores, and palm trees sweating their balsams, Mid which the bird divine, earth's marvel, the singular Phoenix, Blazing Cccrulean-bright with wings of different colours, Turns to behold Aurora surmounting the glassy-green billows : Obverse is Heaven's vast vault and the great Olympian mansion. Who would suppose it ? Even here is Love and his cloud-painted quiver, Arms glittering torch-lit, and arrows tipped with the fire-gem. Nor is it meagre souls and the base-bom breasts of the vulgar Hence that he strikes ; but, whirling round him his limiinous splendours, Always he scatters his darts right upwards sheer through the star- depths Restless, and never deigns to level the pain of them downwards ; Whence the sacred minds and the forms of the gods ever-burning. EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS. 141 'Thou too art there — not vain is the hope that I cherish, my Damon — Thou too art certainly there ; for whither besides could have vanished Holy-sweet fancies like thine, and purity stainless as thine was ? No ; not down in Lethe's darkness ought we to seek thee ! Tears are not fitting for thee, nor for thee will we weep any longer ; Flow no more, ye tear-drops ! Damon inhabits the ether ; Pure, he possesses the sky ; he has spurned back the arc of the rainbow. Housed mid the souls of the heroes, housed mid the gods ever- lasting, Quaffs he the sacred chalices, drinks he the joys of the blessed. Holy-mouthed himself. But O, Heaven's rights being now thine, Be thou with me for my good, however I ought to invoke thee. Whether still as our Damon, or whether of names thou wouldst rather That of Diodati now, by which deep-meaning divine name All the celestials shall know tbee, while shepherds shall still call thee Damon. For that the rosy blush and the unstained strength of young manhood Ever were dear to thee, and the marriage joy never was tasted, Lo ! there are kept for thee the honours of those that were virgin ! Thou, with thy fair head crowned with the golden; glittering cincture. Waving green branches of palm, and walking the gladsome pro- cession, Aye shall act and repeat the endless heavenly nuptials. There where song never fails, and the lyre and the dance mix to madness. There where the revel rages and Sion's thyrsus beats time.' LONDON : PRINTED BY SPOTTIfiWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE AND PARLIAMENT STREET Lately published, in crown ivo. price Is. 6d. LATINE REDDENDA, Ob MiscBLLANBotrs Sentekces pob TH4Nsi.ATioy into Latin Fbose, With Exbbcises in Obatio Obliqua. S. Trin. Coll. Oxon. Third Edition, with Supplement to each Fart, making in all 32 pages. %* 2%e original contents having become exhausted in several Schools, where this book has been in use for some time, a Supple- ment of some 250 Sentences is appended to the present edition. In subsequent editions this supplementary matter will be inserted m its proper place. By the same Author, uniform, pp. 30, price Is. 6d. GREECE REDDENDA, 0& MiscELLAXBoua Sentences fob Tba.nslation INTO Greek Prose, with Vocabulary. * This little Tolnme contains 241 short sentences and ten short easy passages for translation into G^reek. Differences of idioms are indicated by italics. A Tocabnlary is ap- pended. The selections are useful ; their arrangement appears some- what promiscuous, but this may be intentional, as the collection is de- signed for practice, not for instruc- tion/ Athen^sum. * This is a miscellaneous collection of select sentences framed to illus- trate all the most important Greek constructions, without rule or refe- rence. The sentences are graduated according to difficulty, and a suf- ficient vocabulary is appended. It is evident that the main value of such a collection as this must depend on the fact that it has been already tested, which may be safely assumed, in actual school practice. The choice of sentences and phrases appears judicious, and to work through the whole creditably, slight as the volume is, would be an ample and conclusive test of a fair ma^itery of Greek idiomatic construction.' Educational Times. London, LONGMANS & CO. ,-*^,^' ''y/yAA