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LONGMANS^ ENGLISH CLASSICS 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 GEORGE RICE CARPENTER, A.B. 
 
 PROFESSOR OF RHETORIC AND ENGLISH COMPOSITION IN COLUMBIA COLLEOE 
 
 JOHN MILTON 
 
 L'.VLLEGRO, IL PENSEROSO, COMUS, 
 AND LYCIDAS 
 
LONGMANS' ENGLISH CLASSICS 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 GEORGE RICE CARPENTER, A.B. 
 
 PROFESSOR OF RHETORIC AND ENOLIt-H COMPOSITION IN 
 COLUMBIA COLLEGE 
 
 With FuU Notes, Introductmis, Bibliographies, and Other 
 Explanatory and Illustrative Matter. Crown 8vo. Cloth . 
 
 1. IRVING'S TALES OF A TRAVELLER. With Introduction 
 
 by Professt)r Brasder Matthews, of Columbia College, 
 and Xotess by the Editor of the Series. 
 
 2. GEORGE ELIOT'S SILAS MARNER. Edited by Professor 
 
 KoBERT IIerrick, of the University of Chicago. 
 
 3. SCOTT'S WOODSTOCK. Edited by Professor Bliss Perry. 
 
 of Princeton College. 
 
 4. DEFOE'S HISTORY OF THE PLAGUE IN LONDON. 
 
 Edited by Professor G. R. Carpenter, of Columbia Col- 
 lege. 
 
 5. WEBSTER'S FIRST BUNKER IFILL OR.\TIO\. tosrcther 
 
 with other Addresses relating to the Revolution. Edited 
 by Professor F. N. Scott, of the University of Michigan. 
 
 C. MACAULAY'S ESSAY ON MILTON. Edited by J. G. 
 Croswell, Esq., Head-Master of the Brearley School, 
 formerly Assistant Professor in Harvard L'nivcrsity. 
 
 7. SHAKSPERE'S A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM. Edited 
 
 by Professor G. P. Baker, of Harvard University. 
 
 8. MILTON'S L'ALLEGRO. IL PENSEROSO, COMUS. AND 
 
 LYCIDAS. Edited by Professor W. P. Trent, of the Uni- 
 versity of the South. 
 
 9. SHAKSPERE'S MERCHANT OF VENICE. Edited by Pro- 
 
 fessor Francis B. Gummeke. of Ilaverford College. 
 
 Otiier volumes are in prejmration. 
 
JUUX MILTON 
 (After the paiutiiig by Thomas Faed) 
 
Xongmans' Englisb Classics 
 
 JOHN MILTON'S 
 
 L'ALLEGRO, IL PENSER080, 
 C0MU8, AND LYCIDAS 
 
 EDITED 
 
 WITH NOTES AND INTUCDUCTIONS 
 IJV 
 
 WILLIAM P. TRENT, MA 
 
 PKOFESSOR OF ENGLISH IN THE tJNIVEBSITY OF THE SOUTH 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. 
 
 AND LONDON 
 1895 
 
T"R35S2 
 
 Copyright, 1895 
 
 BY 
 
 LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. 
 
 GIFT 
 DR. ELLERY C. STOWCLt 
 JAN. 1. 1941 
 
 TROW DIRECTORY 
 
 PRINTING AND BOOKBINDING COMPANY 
 
 NEW rORK 
 
PREFACE 
 
 Ix this edition of selected minor poems of Milton I have 
 endeavored to keep clearly in mind the purpose for which 
 it is primarily intended, that of providing proper materials 
 for the careful study, under the immediate direction of a 
 teacher, of one of the English Classics prescribed by the 
 uniform requirements in English which have been generally 
 adopted by our colleges. In other words, I have endeavored 
 to furnish an apparatus of Introductions and Notes which, 
 in the hands of competent teachers, may be useful in 
 fostering and developing the literary appreciation of the 
 pupil. I have chosen to point out the poetic beauty of 
 an epithet rather than to discuss its etymology, and to 
 trace the genesis of the category of literature to which a 
 poem belongs rather than to dwell upon a point of histor- 
 ical grammar. I have tried, too, to interest the pupil in 
 the interpretation of disputed passages, and to enable him 
 to follow the transmission of thought and expression from 
 poet to poet and from age to age by means of abundant, 
 but, I trust, not too diffuse quotation. 
 
 To avoid confusion, the introductory matter relating to 
 each of the poems has been placed directly before it. I had 
 intended to prefix to the volume a biographical sketch of 
 Milton, but several reasons have induced me to abandon my 
 purpose. The main design of the book is to aid in the 
 study of Milton's work rather than in that of his life. The 
 latter line of inquiry, scarcely less valuable in itself, can be 
 most readily followed by the young student in another vol- 
 ume of this series, Mr. Croswell's edition of Macaulay's 
 Essay on Milton. I need hardly add that I have drawn 
 
vi PREFACE 
 
 freely upon previous editors, giving tliem credit where it 
 seemed proper to do so. I have, too, made use of several 
 editions in the endeavor to obtain a correct and reasonably 
 punctuated text, and I have tried by the use of accents to 
 help the pupil in the pronunciation of unfamiliar proper 
 names and in the sounding of syllables that ;ire necessary 
 to the correct reading of the verses. 
 
 W. P. T. 
 Sewanee, Tenn.. September, 1895. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Suggestions for Tkachers and Stui>knt8 . 
 
 ix 
 
 Specimen Examination Papers .... 
 
 xiv 
 
 Chronolooical Taule 
 
 xvi 
 
 L'Alleguo 
 
 1 
 
 II. Penseroso 
 
 10 
 
 COMUS 
 
 15 
 
 Lycidas 
 
 60 
 
 Notes 
 
 75 
 
SUGGESTIONS FOR TEACHERS AND 
 STUDENTS 
 
 The following remarks are to be taken strictly as sugges- 
 tions based on several years' experience in teaching, rather 
 than as dogmatic utterances about one of the most difficult 
 problems that have ever confronted the educator — how to 
 teach literature, especially poetry, in such a manner that 
 the pupil shall not merely be grounded in the external 
 facts relating to an author and his work, not merely be 
 informed as to the relations of the work studied to the 
 general body of literature, but also be brought into intel- 
 ligent sympathy with the spirit of the author and of his 
 literary creation. For this last, it must always be remem- 
 bered, is the highest and truest aim of the teacher of lit- 
 erature, and because it is an aim most difficult of attain- 
 ment, not a few thoughtful men, like the late historian 
 Freeman, have seriously doubted whether literature could 
 be taught at all, and have opposed the establishment of 
 university chairs devoted to its study. Although these 
 men are wrong, and although literature can be and is 
 taught successfully, it is not well to minimize the difficul- 
 ties of the problem, and these difficulties should surely 
 protect us from all dogmatism on the subject, whether it 
 be our own or that of others. On one point alone may 
 we venture to be dogmatic, and that is that the successful 
 teacher of literature must love his work and be full of his 
 subject. Premising these requisites in the teacher, we 
 may now devote ourselves to a consideration of the steps 
 by which a young student may perhaps best be introduced 
 to the works of a great poet presented for his study in a 
 volume like this. 
 
X SUGGESTIONS FOR TEACHERS 
 
 I. Whenever it is practicable the whole poem should be 
 read aloud, both by the pupil out of school and by the 
 class or the teacher during the recitation hour, before the 
 work of minute study is begun. This reading as a whole 
 is necessary, not merely to give the student a general idea 
 of what he is about, but also to give him un intelligent in- 
 terest in what the poet is about. It is fortunate that all 
 four of the poems given in this volume can be thus read, 
 with perhaps the exception of " Comus,"in the class-room. 
 The poems should be read aloud to bring out the full 
 beauty of rhythm and rhyme, on which poetic charm so 
 much depends. All poetry was once chanted or recited, 
 and although it is not necessary now to declaim it or to 
 sing-song it, it is necessary to read it aloud in order thor- 
 oughly to enjoy it or comprehend it. 
 
 II. When the pupil has read the poem once in this way, he 
 should read the introductory note carefully, and the teach- 
 er may assign this note, or part of it, for the next recita- 
 tion, using his own discretion as to the facts or opinions to 
 which the pupil's attention should be specially drawn, and 
 adding such details or comments as he may think advis- 
 able. Tlie fuller the teacher's own reading has been, the 
 more valuable this portion of the work will become to the 
 pupil, for the limits of a text-book preclude the possibil- 
 ity of any introductory note beginning to exhaust the sub- 
 ject. 
 
 III. Having read the pooin as a whole, and having 
 gained some knowledge of how it came to be written, and 
 what ideas and feelings it is intended to express, the 
 pupil will be prepared to pay attention to details of dic- 
 tion, metre, etc., as well as to study the evolved struct- 
 ure of the poet's work of art. In other words, he will 
 be prepared to use the notes. Here the teacher's own ex- 
 perience and the needs of the class must help him to de- 
 termine the length of lesson to be given. A certain 
 portion of the text should be assigned and the pu{)il held 
 responsible for a thorough understanding of it from all 
 
SUGGESTIONS FOli TEACHERS XI 
 
 reasonable points of view. He should be called upon to 
 explain the connotation of any word, the structure of any 
 verse, the force of any figure of speech, the meaning of 
 any literary or historical allusion, and the bearing of any 
 idea or passage upon the poem as a whole. Nor should 
 the truth of an idea to nature or human life "be over- 
 looked. Obviously no body of notes can cover such a 
 number of points. The notes, therefore, must be looked 
 upon merely as helps to the complete anah^sis of the poem. 
 When the pupil finds himself to be ignorant of a point 
 which seems important, but about which the notes are 
 silent, he should modestly assume some special ignorance 
 on his own part and try to obtain the required informa- 
 tion from a dictionary or other work of reference. Should 
 he fail in this, he should consult his teacher. Of course, 
 an editor sometimes omits a note because he does not 
 conceive that a difficulty will arise, sometimes because he 
 wishes to give the pupil the discipline of research in his 
 own behalf. No conscientious editor will shirk a passage 
 or word because of its difficulty, and when a note is given 
 in tentative language both teacher and pupil should en- 
 deavor to master the editor's reasons for failing to pro- 
 nounce an opinion, and should be content to leave the 
 passage doubtful, unless they are very clear that they have 
 obtained light on the subject that warrants the formation 
 of a positive opinion. Nothing is worse for teacher or 
 pupil than to form hasty and crude opinions about points 
 that have long baffled conscientious scholars. Servile fol- 
 lowing of any editor is not recommended, but modesty and 
 careful reflection and study are always desirable. As to 
 the notes themselves, some will naturally be found more 
 important tiian others. Those of an etymological nature 
 may be stressed or not, according to the teacher's judg- 
 ment. Those discussing the various interpretations that 
 have been proposed for a passage should be especially 
 studied, because they may give rise to interesting discus- 
 sion. Those that refer to parallel passages in Milton's 
 
XU SUGGESTIONS FOR TE ACHE US 
 
 other poems should be followed up, because to do this is 
 to render one's self more familiar with the works of the 
 poet one is studying. Those that refer to other English 
 poets should receive as much consideration as is prac- 
 ticable, while with regard to those referring to works in 
 foreign languages the teacher should give general direc- 
 tions according to the character of his class. If the stu- 
 dent is at the same time studying Horace, and has pre- 
 viously studied Virgil, he should be rigorously required to 
 trace the references to these poets ; and this is, of course, 
 true with regard to Greek and other languages. The 
 notes are made as full as the limits of the volume will 
 allow, in order that pupils of all kinds may be helped. 
 It is by no means meant that every bit of information 
 should be appropriated by each student, for this is some- 
 times impossible, owing to lack of library facilities and to 
 other causes. 
 
 IV. The teacher should be careful not to assume that 
 his pupils are fully acquainted with the meaning of the 
 many technical literary terms used perforce without ex- 
 planation in such a book as this. He should, therefore, 
 by talks or special lectures, or by reference to books or ar- 
 ticles, make sure that the pupil has a fair idea of the nat- 
 ure of poetry in general, of the different varieties of 
 poetry, of the various kinds of rhymes and metres, etc. 
 Many pupils in our schools, and even many students in 
 our universities, are shockingly ignorant about such mat- 
 ters, and it would be well if every teacher were to begin 
 his classes in literature with a few lectures by way of 
 Prolegomena. 
 
 V. The student should, of course, be expected to do 
 what outside reading he can with regard to Milton and 
 his times, nor should the teacher neglect to connect his 
 treatment of any special author with the literary history 
 of England or America, or of other countries. The 
 teacher, therefore, should read far more than the pupil 
 can be expected to do, and the well read instructor will al- 
 
SUGGESTIONS FOR TEACHERS xiii 
 
 ways be his pupil's best bibliography. It may, however, 
 be well to conclude these suggestions with a list of books 
 that cannot fail to be useful to any student of Milton. 
 
 The chief authority for the events of Milton's life is 
 Professor David Masson's monumental treatise, in six vol- 
 umes, which is accurately described in its title, '* The Life 
 of John Milton ; Narrated in Connection with the Politi- 
 cal, Ecclesiastical, and Literary History of his Time." 
 Of biographical sketches and monographs, there has been 
 a portentous number, olit of which Keightley's, Mark Pat- 
 tison's, Stopford Brooke's, and Dr. Garnett's (which has a 
 good bibliography) may be selected for reference. Patti- 
 son's, in the Efiglish Men of Letters Series, is in nearly 
 every respect a model of what a biographical study of a 
 great writer should be, save for its neglect of the political 
 side of Milton's career. This defect does not attach to 
 the admirable life furnished to the Great Writers Series, 
 by Dr. Richard Garnett, who, in addition to his marked 
 critical ability, has the advantage that a poet always has in 
 dealing with a great master of his art. Of criticism of 
 Milton's work there has been no end since the days of 
 Dryden and Addison. It will be sufficient to mention 
 here Dr. Johnson's " Life," and the well-known essays of 
 such critics as Macaulay, Landor, and Matthew Arnold. 
 The poetical works themselves have appeared in numerous 
 editions, of which we may mention, as perhaps most con- 
 venient, the '' Globe" by Professor Masson, the *' Aldine" 
 by Dr. Bradshaw, and the "Eversley"by Professor Mas- 
 son again, in one, two, and three volumes respectively. 
 
SPECIMEN EXAMINATION PAPERS 
 
 The following papers are iu tended to suggest to teach- 
 ers and pupils typical points that should, in the editor's 
 opinion, be stressed in studying a text-])ook like the pres- 
 ent. Each examination should occupy the average stu- 
 dent from an hour to an hour and a half. A longer 
 examination can, of course, be prepared by a judicious 
 combination of questions, but it is to be hoped that the 
 day of exhausting examinations is over. The questions in 
 the first paper are of a general nature, those in the second 
 of a special nature ; the third combines the two kinds of 
 questions. 
 
 I. 
 
 1. Discuss briefly Milton's literasT obligations, as far as 
 they can be traced, in LWUegro and // Penseroso. 
 
 2. Give a concise description of what a masque was. 
 
 3. Do you agree, or not, with the critics who discover 
 no deep personal feeling in Li/cidas? Give reasons for 
 your answer. 
 
 4. How do you interpret the poet's relation to the speak- 
 ers in L' Allegro and // Penseroso? Is he describing two 
 men different from himself, or two men with one of whom 
 he may be more or less identified, or is he describing two 
 moods of one and the same character, and is that character 
 his own ? 
 
 5. What, in your opinion, is the most dramatic scene in 
 Comus? Give reasons for your answer. 
 
 6. Describe briefly the circumstances that led to the 
 composition of Lycidas and give details about its publica- 
 tion. 
 
 II. 
 
 1. Interpret the infinitive "to come" in U Allegro, 1. 
 45. 
 
SPECIMEN EXAMIXATION PAPERS xv 
 
 2. (Jive modern English equivalents of the words in 
 U Allegro, 1. 71, i.e., paraphrase the verse. 
 
 3. Comment on the expression "rain induence " in 
 L' Allegro, 1. I'Z'Z. 
 
 4. What is tiie biblical retorence suggested by // Fen se- 
 rosa , 11. 51-54 ? 
 
 5. \\liat is the literary reference suggested by 11 Pense- 
 roso, 11. 110-115 ? 
 
 6. In Com us, 1. 48, explain the grammatical construc- 
 tion of the entire verse. 
 
 7. What picture is suggested bv the simile in Connis. 11. 
 189-190 ? 
 
 8. Explain "leans*' in Counts. 1. 355. 
 
 9. Who was Leucothea {Comus. 1. 875) ? 
 
 10. Comment on the meaning of "once more" in I.y- 
 cidas, 1. 1. 
 
 11. Who was Hippotad^s {Lycidas, 1. 96)? 
 
 12. Does ••Angel" in Lycidas, 1. 103, refer to Saint 
 Michael or to Lycidas ? Give reasons for your answer. 
 
 III. 
 
 1. Give one or two instances in U Allegro and II Pense- 
 roso of Milton's inaccuracy of natural description. Does it 
 matter much ? 
 
 2. Discuss the meaning of // Penseroso, 11. 14;-150. 
 
 3. Name the chief poets and others who co-operated to 
 make the Jacobean masque a success. 
 
 4. What literary use had been made of the god Comus 
 before Milton's day ? 
 
 5. What poem and poet was Milton most affected by in 
 the latter portion of Comus 9 
 
 6. What was the chief external source of influence upon 
 the metrical structure of Lycidas 9 
 
 7. Explain " scrannel " in Lycidas, 1. 124. 
 
 8. Trace briefly the evolution of the pastoral elegy. 
 
 9. Did you really enjoy reading Lycidas9 If so, why ? 
 
XVI 
 
 CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE 
 CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE. 
 
 Milton's Cheep Works. 
 
 1608. [Milton bom.] 
 
 Contemporary Liter- 
 ature, 
 
 lfi24. [Milton at Cam- ' 
 bridge, l()24-3'i. Some 
 English and most of 
 his Latin poetry writ- 
 ten during this peri- 
 od.] 
 
 16-.'0. Ode on Christ's 
 Nativity (written). 
 
 I60I. Epitaph on Mar- 
 chioness of Winches- 
 ter. L' Allegro and 11 
 Penseroso (svritten V). 
 
 1608. Shakspere, Corio- 
 lanus (?) ; Beaumont 
 and Fletclier (V), Phi- 
 laster. 
 
 1609. Shakspere, Son- 
 nets. 
 
 1610. Shakspere, Tem- 
 pest; G. Fletcher, 
 Christ's Victory, etc.; 
 Chapman, 1 1 i a d (I.- 
 XII.); J. Fletcher, 
 Faithful Sheplierdess. 
 
 1611. King James Ver- 
 sion of Bible c o m - 
 pleted. 
 
 1613. W Browne, Brit- 
 annia's Pastorals 
 (Part L). 
 
 1614. Raleigh, History 
 of the World. 
 
 161 6. Drummond, 
 Poems ; Jonson, First 
 Folio; Webster, 
 Duchess of Malfi (act- 
 ed). 
 
 1630. Bacon, Novum 
 
 Organnm. 
 1621. Burton, Anatomy 
 
 of Melancholy, 
 16ri2. Drayton, Poly- 
 
 o 1 b i o n (complete) ; 
 
 Wither, Mistress of 
 
 Philarete. 
 1623. Shakspere, First 
 
 Folio. 
 
 162.5. Bacon, Essays 
 
 (final form). 
 10-26. Sandys, Ovid. 
 
 Contemporary Biogra- 
 phy. 
 
 1608. Fuller, Clarendon 
 born ; Sackville died. 
 
 1609. Suckling born. 
 
 1681. G. Herbert, 
 Temple. 
 
 The 
 
 1612. Butler, Montrose 
 born. 
 
 1613. Cleveland, Jer. 
 Taylor, Crashaw (';) 
 bom. 
 
 1614. H. More born. 
 
 1615. Baxter, Denham 
 bom. 
 
 1616. Shakspere, F. 
 Beaumont died. 
 
 1618. Lovelace, Cowley 
 bom ; Raleigh, Syl- 
 vester died. 
 
 1619. Daniel died. 
 
 1621. Marvell born. 
 16:32. Vaughan born. 
 
 1(523. G. Fletcher died. 
 
 162.5. James I , Lodge, 
 
 J. Fletcher died. 
 1626. Bacon died. 
 1628. Bunyan born. 
 
 1631. Drayton, Donne 
 died ; Dryden born. 
 
CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE 
 CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE— C'oH<in?<ec?. 
 
 XVll 
 
 Milton's Chief Works. 
 
 1632. Epitaph on Shak- 
 
 spere (published). 
 10o3. Arcades (written ?). 
 
 1634. Comus (acted). 
 
 10:^7. A Mask [Comus], 
 
 Lycidas. 
 l»i:5s-3«i. [Milton in 
 
 Italy] 
 l(J3'.l. Epitaphium Da- 
 
 monis (written). 
 
 1(341. Five theological 
 pamphlets. 
 
 164:i. Doctrine and Diss- 
 cipline of Divorce. 
 
 U)44. Of Education, 
 Areopagitica. and 
 more divorce p a m - 
 phlets. 
 
 1645. (Minor) Poems. 
 
 1649. Political pam- 
 phlets; Eikono- 
 klastes. 
 
 1651. Pro populo An- 
 glicano defensio contra 
 Salmasium. 
 
 16.54. Defensio Secunda. 
 
 CONTEMPORART LITER- 
 ATURE. 
 
 1 6:j.S. Donne, Poems; 
 Massinger, New Way 
 to Pay Old Debts (V)"; 
 P. Fletcher, Purple 
 Island ; Prynne, His- 
 trioniastix. 
 
 16.i4. Habington, Cas- 
 tara. 
 
 1635. Quarles, Emblems. 
 
 Contemporary Biooba- 
 
 PHY. 
 
 1640. Carew, Poems; 
 Suckling, Ballad of a 
 Wedding. 
 
 1641. Denham, Cooper's 
 HiU. 
 
 104-. Sir T. Browne, 
 Religio Jledici; 
 Hobbes, De Cive. 
 
 1645. Waller. Poems. 
 
 1646. Vaughan, Poems ; 
 Shirley, Poems. 
 
 1647. Cowley, Mistress. 
 
 1648. Herrick, Hespe- 
 rides. 
 
 1649. Lovelace, Lucasta. 
 
 1 6.50. Ba.\tcr. Saints' 
 E v e r 1 a s ting Rest ; 
 Taylor, Holy Living. 
 
 1651. Hobbes, Levia- 
 than ; Davenant, Gon- 
 dibert. 
 
 1<).5:J. Walton, Complete 
 Angler. 
 
 16.54. Hobbes, Of Liber- 
 ty. 
 
 1632. Locke bom. 
 
 1633. G. Herbert died. 
 
 1634. Chapman died. 
 
 16o7. Ben Jonson died. 
 
 16n9. Sir H. Wotton, 
 Carew (?; died. 
 
 1610. Burton, Massing- 
 er, Ford died ; Wych- 
 erley bom. 
 
 1642. Newton, Mrs. 
 Behn l)orn ; Suckling 
 (?) died. 
 
 1643. Sandys, Cart- 
 wright died. 
 
 1644. Quarles died. 
 
 1645 W. Browne died. 
 
 li>47. Rochester born. 
 1648. Lord Herbert of 
 
 Cherbury died. 
 1(349. Drummond died ; 
 
 Charles I. executed. 
 
 16.50. P. Fletcher, Mon- 
 trose, C r a s h a w (?) 
 died. 
 
 1651. Otway born. 
 
 16.54. Habington (?) 
 died. 
 
X viii CHR ONUL O til (J A L TA B L K 
 
 CHROXOLOGICAL TABLE— ro»,/«(ferf. 
 
 MtLTON's Chief Wouks. 
 
 1655. Pro se defeiisio 
 
 contra A. Morum. 
 ] 659. Two ecclesiastical 
 
 pamphlets. 
 1660. Ready and easy 
 
 way to establish a free 
 
 Commonwealth. 
 
 1667. Paradise Lost. 
 
 1669. Accidence. 
 
 CONTEMPOKARY LITER- 
 ATURE. 
 
 1655. Fuller, Church 
 
 History. 
 If:59. Cleveland, Poems. 
 
 1660. Pepys' Diary be- 
 gun ; Dryden, Astriea 
 Redux. 
 
 1663. Butler, Hudibras 
 
 (Parti.). 
 '667. Dryden, Essay of 
 
 Dramatic Poesy. 
 
 1669. Dryden, 
 nic Love. 
 
 Tyran- 
 
 Co-:tempobary Biogra- 
 phy. 
 
 1658. Cromwell. Love- 
 lace. Cleveland died. 
 
 1660. Charles II. re- 
 stored. 
 
 1661. Fuller died; De- 
 foe born. 
 
 1664. Prior born. 
 
 1666. Shirley died. 
 
 1667. Cowley, Wither, 
 Jer . Taylor died ; 
 Swift bom. 
 
 1668. Davenant, Den- 
 ham died. 
 
 1669. Prynne died. 
 
 1670. History of Britain. 
 
 
 1670. Congreve born. 
 
 1671. Paradise Re- 
 
 1671. Buckingham, The 
 
 
 gained; Samson 
 
 Rehearsal. 
 
 
 Agonistes (published 
 
 
 
 together). 
 
 
 
 1672. A r t i s Logicae, 
 
 
 1672. Addison, Steele 
 
 etc. 
 
 
 born. 
 
 1673. Of true Religion, 
 
 
 
 etc. 
 
 
 
 1674. Epistolarum fami- 
 
 1674. Dryden. The 
 
 1674. Herrick, Claren- 
 
 liarum liber. ' 
 
 State of Innocence 
 
 don died. 
 
 - -- 
 
 (founded on Paradise 
 
 
 ' Chief posthumous 
 works : 
 
 Lost). 
 
 
 ie;97 and 1698. Prose 
 
 
 
 Works. 
 
 
 
 1743. Original Letters 
 
 
 
 and Papers of State 
 
 
 
 Addressed to Oliver 
 
 
 
 Cromwell. 
 
 
 
 1825. De Doctrina 
 
 
 
 Christiana. 
 
 
 
 1876. Common Place 
 
 
 
 Book. 
 
 
 
L'ALLEGRO 
 
 (The genesis of '"LAllegro " and " II Penseroso,"' perhaps the best 
 known and most heartily admired of all Milton's compositions, is in- 
 volved in considerable obscurity. They were not printed before 1645, 
 and they do not exist for us in manuscript ; we are therefore compelled 
 to rely upon inferences and internal evidence in determining their 
 time and place of writing. The consensus of critical opinion gives 
 1G32-88 as the time, and Ilorton as the place. Professor Masson 
 assigns them to the latter half of 1C32. There are, however, reasons 
 that incline me to think that they should probably be placed earlier. 
 The autumn of 1682 seems to be selected because Horton is usually 
 assumed as the place of composition, and Milton went to reside there 
 in July. 1632. He would naturally, argue the critics, be so impressed 
 with the charms of the spot that he would turn to verse, and " L' Alle- 
 gro" and "II Penseroso " and the ' Song on May Morning" (1633?) 
 would be the outcome. But there is no proof that the poems 
 were not written at Cambridge or in London as reminiscential tril)utes 
 to the pleasures of a vacation spent in the country ; and we know 
 from a Latin prolusion or oration delivered, Masson thinks, either in 
 the latter half of 1631 or the first part of 163",'. that Milton spent •" the 
 last past summer amid rural scenes and sequestered glades," 
 
 and that he recalled " the supreme delight //e had with the Muses.' 
 This vacation of 1631 may have been spent at Horton, for there is 
 no proof that the elder Milton had not then acquired that property, 
 and the young poet may have written his poems under the elms 
 that so fascinated liim, or have composed them on his return to 
 college. I incline to the former supposition. As we shall see, he was 
 unquestionably supplied with hints for both his poems by Burton's 
 ■■ .VnatQinj[j" surely a book for a student like Milton to take with him 
 on a vacation. Again, no one can read the " Prolusion on Early Rising, " 
 almost certainly Milton s. without thinking that much of the raw 
 material of the two poems was in his brain and being expressed dur- 
 ing his university life ; nor can one read the other prolusions without 
 seeing that Orpheus, the music of the spheres, and Platonism were 
 filling much of his thoughts. Besides, about 1630 Milton was evi- 
 dently to some extent occupied with Shakspere, whose genius is hon- 
 
2 L'ALLEGRO 
 
 ored in the poems, and a year later he was experimenting with the 
 octosyllabic couplet in the •' Epitaph on the Marchioness of Winches- 
 ter." Finally, it was about this time that he vi^z seriously weighing 
 the reasons ivo and om with regard to his choice of a profession, and 
 it might naturally occur to him to contrast in poetic form the pleas- 
 ures of the more or less worldly and the more or less secluded, 
 studious, and devoted life. He had made his choice by the autumn 
 of 1632, and had therefore less cause for such poetical expression. A 
 minute analysis of the diction and metre of the poems tends to con- 
 firm the view here expressed. 
 
 It has already been stated that Milton was indebted for hints, if not 
 for direct suggestion, to Burton's "Anatomy of Melancholy." This 
 famous book, of which the first edition appeared in 1021, was prefaced 
 by a poem entitled '• The Author's Abstract of Melancholy, AiaXoyios ," 
 in which " Democritus Junior" analyzes his feelings in a way that 
 foreshadows Milton's subsequent procedure. There are twelve stan- 
 zas of eight lines each, the last two verses of each stanza constituting 
 a variable refrain, the measure being, however, the octosyllabic 
 couplet. In one stanza the pleasures of a meditative man are given in 
 a series of little pictures, while the next stanza opposes the woes of the 
 same personage when a fit of real melancholy is upon him. Milton 
 could not have failed to be struck with the general effectiveness of 
 the idea and its development, but his artist's instinct told him that 
 this effectiveness would be enhanced if, instead of a dialogue in stan- 
 zas, he should write two distinct but companion poems, developed on 
 parallel lines, in which the pleasures of a typically cheerful and a 
 typically serious man should be described in pictures sliglitly more 
 elaborate than those of Burton. He abandoned the too glaring con- 
 trast of joys and woes, and succeeded also in avoiding the occasional 
 dropping into commonplace that mars the " Abstract of Melancholy." 
 But. as is pointed out in the notes, some pictures and even lines and 
 phrases of the elder poem probably remained in his memory. 
 
 Another poem which may have influenced Milton is the song, 
 " Hence, all you vain delights,'' in Fletcher's play, " The Nice Valour. " 
 This play was not published until 1647, but it had been acted long be- 
 fore, and the song had almost certainly become known before " H Pen- 
 seroso " was written. Tradition assigns the lyric to Beaumont, but Mr. 
 Bullen with more probability gives it to Fletcher. It is an exquisite 
 expansion of the theme expressed in its clo.sing verse, " Nothing's so 
 dainty-sweet as lovely melancholy," and it is pleasant to believe that 
 it may have given Milton a hint, although it can scarcely have had as 
 much influence upon his verses as his own two poems plainly had 
 upon a stanza of Collins's " The Passions." There are naturally traces 
 of other poets to be found in these productions of Milton's impression- 
 
L'ALLEGEO 3 
 
 able period, particularly of Joshua Sylvester, the portentous translator 
 of Du Bartas, aud to a less degree of Spenser. Browne, and Marlowe ; 
 but this fact has been pointed out in the notes wherever it seemed 
 necessary. Collins, too, was not the only eighteenth-century poet 
 who had " L'AUegro " and *■ II Peuseroso" ringing through his head, 
 as anyone can see who will take the trouble to examine Dodsleys well- 
 known collection. Even Pope was not above borrowing epithets from 
 them, and Dyer's best poem, " Grongar Hill," would not have had its 
 being without them. Green, Thomas Warton, John Hughes, who act- 
 ually wrote a new conclusion for '' H Penseroso," and other minor 
 verse-writers were much affected by them, and Gray borrowed from 
 them with the open boldness that always marks the appropriations of a 
 true poet. But perhaps the best proof of their popularity during a 
 century which is too sweepingly charged with inability to appreciate 
 true poetry, is the fact that Handel set them to music. In our own 
 century they have never lacked admirers or failed to exert upon poets 
 an easily detected influence. It may even be held with some show of 
 reason that their popularity, leading to a fuller knowledge of Milton, 
 paved the way for the remarkable renascence of Spenser in the latter 
 half of the eighteenth and the first part of the present century. 
 
 As their Italian titles imply, the subjects or speakers of Milton's 
 verses are The Cheerful ]\Ian and The Thouglitful (Meditative) Man 
 respectively. Our English adjectives do not quite adequately render 
 the Italian they are intended to translate, which is perhaps the reason 
 why Milton went abroad for his titles, since he had a striking warning 
 before him in Burton's "Abstract " of the ambiguity attaching to such 
 a word as " Melancholy, " which he might have used with one of his 
 poems without exciting surprise. He has excited surprise with some 
 modern critics through the fact that he wrote Penseroso instead of Pen- 
 deroso, but it has been shown that the form he used was correct and 
 current when he wrote. His Italian titles, however, have not pre- 
 vented much discussion as to the characters he intended to portray. 
 Critics are quite unanimously of the opinion that II Penseroso repre- 
 sents a man very like the Miltou we know, but they are divided as to 
 the kind of man typified by L'AUegro. One editor goes so far as to say 
 that Milton '' must have felt that the character of L'AUegro might, 
 with slight changes or additions, be made to typify the careless, pleas- 
 ure-seeking spirit of the Cavaliers and Court : the spirit which he 
 afterwards figured in Comus and his followers, and condemned to 
 destruction." If this view be correct, one is forced to conclude that 
 Milton had more of the true dramatists power of creating characters 
 other than himself than he has generally been supposed to possess ; 
 and it requires us to conceive the more sprightly poem as forming a 
 hard mechanical contrast to its companion, which is the reverse of 
 
4 L' ALLEGRO 
 
 poetical . On the other hand, Dr. Garnett maintains that tlie two poems 
 '■'■ are complementary rather than contrary, and may be, in a sense, re- 
 garded as one poem, whose theme is the praise of the reasonable life." 
 It is easy to agree with this view, especially as Burton's poem obviously 
 suggested the idea of contrasting two well-marked moods of one in- 
 dividual character rather than of bringing into juxtaposition two radi- 
 cally different characters. LAUegro may not be the Milton who 
 meditated entering the Church and making his life a true poem, but 
 he is rather the Milton who went to the theatre in his youth and could 
 in his mature age ask Lawrence 
 
 •• What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice. 
 Of Attic taste witli wine, whence we may rise 
 To hear the lute well touched or artful voice 
 Warble immortal notes and Tuscan air 'i ' 
 
 than the typical Cavalier of Charles's court. Cavaliers did not usually 
 call for •' sweet Liberty" but for sweet License, nor did they greatly 
 hanker after " unreprovcd pleasures. " They were not particularly 
 noted for their early rising, and if any one of them had watched the 
 Bear out. in different pursuits from those of II Pen.sero.so, lie would 
 probably not have continued his morning walk after encountering the 
 "milk maid singing blithe." 
 
 Another point on which critics differ is whether or not Milton in- 
 tended to describe the events of a day of twenty-four hours. Some claim 
 that he merely sketches tlie general tenor of the life of his characters ; 
 others that he represents the events of an ideal day. The antagonists 
 ought to be satisfied with the assurance that he intended to do both 
 the one thing and tlie other. Tlie careful and se<iuential division of 
 the day that is apparent in each poem (even if '• II Pensero.so" does 
 begin with the nightingale and the moon cannot be accidental, nor 
 can the grouping of events and natural sights belonging to different 
 seasons of the year be the result of ignorance or negligence. 
 
 I am not sure that it is not a fad of criticism to call as much atten- 
 tion as editors do to the fact that Milton was not so accurate or so 
 penetrating an observer of nature as some of hi.s succe.'ssorsL like Tenny- 
 son, have been. In the first place, Milton will not be found to be 
 much of a sinner in this regard if he be compared with his predeces- 
 sors and contemporaries. In the sec^lld place, it is by no means 
 certain that minute and accurate ob.servation of nature is essential to 
 the equipment of a great poet. A genuine love of Nature, a power to 
 feel and impart .something of her spirit, is doubtless essential ; but as 
 poetry on its pictorial side should be mainly suggestive, it is not yet 
 clear that posterity will get more pleasure out of the elaborate and 
 
L'ALLEGRO 5 
 
 accurate pictures of some modern poets than out of the suggestive, if 
 sometimes inaccurate, pictures of Milton. It is not entirely unlikely 
 that our recently developed love of detail- work has injured our 
 sense for form, and that our grandchildren will take Mr. Arnold's 
 advice ami return to the Greeks and Milton, in order to learn what 
 the highest poetry really is like. Milton is nearer akin to Homer and 
 Sophocles than he is to the modern naturalist or nature mystic, and it 
 is well for English poetry that he is. He would probably have thought 
 the picture ut the sunbeams lying in the golden chamber, suggested 
 by a few words in that exquisite fragment of Mimnermiis beginning 
 ■' A«7)TO£o iroXiv" more in keeping with the requirements of a rational 
 poetics than nine-tenths of the purple descriptive passages in English 
 poetry since the days of Wordsworth. 
 
 But if editors and critics have had their humors and fads, they 
 have always ended by acknowledging the perennial charm of these 
 poems. And the mass of readers has paid its highest tribute of cull- 
 ing many a phrase and ver.se for quotation to charm the outer or the 
 inner ear. The anthologist of our lyric poetry who should omit them 
 from his collection would pay dearly for his indiscretion, and yet he 
 could argue fairly that tliey are rather idylls than true lyrics, as 
 Wordsworth did long since. But if they are, in fact, a series of little 
 pictures sometimes so loosely joined or so hastily sketched as to puzzle 
 the careful critic, these have been so fused into one organic whole by 
 the delicate, evanescent sentiment that pervades each poem that even 
 the purist will be willing to admit them to be lyrics of marvellous 
 beauty and power, coming from the heart of the poet and going straight 
 to the hearts of his readers.] 
 
 ^^ 
 
 Hence, loaf 
 
 MENCE^lpamed Me^ncholy. . ^, / 
 
 J OfCje;'F6rne*}ind bTacl^t Midnight born 
 
 In f^^^giaii cave fol-lorn ■_ , \ ^^ — •. . - u 
 
 ^'Mongst roijrid sKapesl anct shrieksl and sights unholy 
 Find out'soni6 iinc^'uth fcelll. 
 
 Wliere brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings. 
 And the night-raven sings : — 
 
 There, under ebon shades and low-browed rocks. 
 As ragged as thy locks. 
 
 In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell. 10 
 
 But come, thou Goddess fair and free, 
 In heaven yclept Euphrosyne, 
 And l)y men heart-easing Mirth ; 
 
L'ALLEGRO 
 
 
 Whom lovely Venus, at a birth. 
 
 With two sister Graces more, 
 
 To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore : 
 
 Or whether (as some sager sing) 
 
 The frolic wind that breathes the spring. 
 
 Zephyr, with Aurora playing. 
 
 As he met her once a-Maying, 20 
 
 There, on beds of violets blue. 
 
 And fresh-blown roses washed in dew. 
 
 Filled her with thee, a daughter fair. 
 
 So buxom, blithe, and debonair. 
 
 Haste thee, Xymph, and bring with thee 
 
 Jest, and youthful Jollity, 
 
 Quips and Cranks and wanton Wiles, 
 
 Nods and Becks and wreathed Smiles, 
 
 Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, 
 
 And love to live in dimple sleek ; 
 
 Sport that wrinkled Care derides. 
 
 And Laughter holding both his sides. 
 
 Come, and trip it, as you go, 
 
 On the light fantastic toe ; 
 
 And in thy right hand lead with thee 
 
 The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty ; 
 
 And, if I give thee honor due. 
 
 Mirth, admit me of thy crew. 
 
 To live with her and live with thee. 
 
 In unreproved pleasures free ; 
 
 To hear the lark begin his flight, 
 
 And, singing, startle the dull night. 
 
 From his watch-tower in the skies, 
 
 Till the dappled dawn doth rise ; 
 
 Then to come, in spite of sorrow, 
 
 And at my window bid good-morrow. 
 
 Through the sweet-briar or the vine, 
 
 Or the twisted eglantine ; . . 
 
 While the cock, with lively din. 
 
 Scatters the rear of darkness thin, 50 
 
VALLEGRO 7 
 
 And to the stack, or the barn door. 
 
 Stoutly struts his dames before : 
 
 Oft listening how the hounds and horn 
 
 Cheerly rouse the slumbering morn, 
 
 From the side of some hoar hill, 
 
 Through the high wood echoing shrill : 
 
 Sometime walking, not unseen. 
 
 By hedgerow elms, on hillocks green. 
 
 Right against the eastern gate 
 
 Where the great Sun begins his state, 60 
 
 Robed in flames and amber light, 
 
 The clouds in thousand liveries dight ; 
 
 While the plowman, near at hand, 
 
 Whistles o'er the furrowed land, 
 
 And the milkmaid singeth blithe, 
 
 And the mower whets his scythe, 
 
 And every shepherd tells his tale 
 
 Under the hawthorn in the dale. 
 
 Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures, 
 
 Whilst the landskip round it measures : 70 
 
 Russet lawns and fallows gray. 
 
 Where the nibbling flocks do stray ; 
 
 Mountains on whose barren breast 
 
 The laboring clouds do often rest ; 
 
 Meadows trim, with daisies pied ; 
 
 Shallow brooks and rivers wide ; 
 
 Towers and battlements it sees 
 
 Bosomed high in tufted trees, 
 
 Where perhaps some beauty lies. 
 
 The cynosure of neighboring eyes. 80 
 
 Hard by, a cottage chimney smokes 
 
 From betwixt two aged oaks. 
 
 Where Corydon and Thyrsis met 
 
 Are at their savory dinner set 
 
 Of herbs and other country messes. 
 
 Which the neat-handed Phyllis dresses ; 
 
 And then in haste her bower she leaves. 
 
L-ALLEGRO 
 
 With Thestylis to bind the sheaves ; 
 Or, if the earlier season lead, 
 
 To the tanned haycock in the mead. 90 
 
 Sometimes, with secure delight. 
 The upland hamlets will invite. 
 When the merry bells ring round, 
 And the jocund rebecks sound 
 To many a youth, and many a maid. 
 Dancing in the checkered shade ; 
 And young and old come forth to play 
 On a sunshine holiday, 
 _Till the livelong daylight fail. 
 
 Then to the spicy nut-brown ale, 100 
 
 With stories told of many a feat. 
 How Faery Mab the junkets eat. 
 She was pinched and pulled, she said ; 
 And he, by Friar's lantern led ; 
 Tells how the drudging goblin sweat 
 To earn his cream bowl duly set. 
 When in one night, ere glimpse of morn. 
 His shadowy flail hath threshed the corn 
 That ten day-laborers could not end ; 
 Then lies him down the lubber fiend. 110 
 
 And, stretched out all the chimney's length, 
 Basks at the fire his hairy strength. 
 And cropful out of doors he flings. 
 Ere the first cock his matin rings. 
 Thus done the tales, to bed they creep, 
 By whispering winds soon lulled asleep. 
 Tow'red cities please us then. 
 And the busy hum of men. 
 Where throngs of knights and barons bold. 
 In weeds of peace, high triumphs hold, 120 
 
 With store of ladies, whose bright eyes 
 liuin iniluence, and judge the prize 
 Of wit or arms, while both contend 
 To win her grace whom all commend. 
 
LWLLEORO 9 
 
 Tliere let Hymen oft appear. 
 Ill saffron robe, with taper clear. 
 And pomp, and feast, and revelry. 
 With mask and antique pageantry ; 
 Such sights as youthful poets dream 
 On summer eves by haunted stream, 130 
 
 Then to the well- trod stage anon. 
 If Jonson's learned sock be on. 
 Or sweetest Shakspere, P'ancy's child. 
 Warble his native wood-notes wild. 
 And ever, agtiinst eating cares, 
 Lap me in soft Lydian airs. 
 Married to immortal verse, 
 Such as the meeting soul may pierce. 
 In notes with many a winding bout 
 Of linked sweetness long drawn out 140 
 
 With wanton heed and giddy cunning. 
 The melting voice through mazes running. 
 Untwisting all the chains that tie 
 The hidden soul of harmony ; 
 That Orpheus' self may heave his head 
 From golden slumber on a bed 
 Of heaped Elysian flowers, and hear 
 Such strains as would have won the ear 
 Of Pluto to have quite set free 
 Jlis half- regained Eurydice. 150 
 
 These delights if thou canst give, 
 Mirth, with tlice 1 mean to live. 
 
IL PENSEROSO 
 
 Hexce, vain deluding Joys, 
 
 The brood of Folly without father bred ! 
 How little you bested, 
 
 Or fill the fixed mind with all your toys ! 
 Dwell in some idle brain. 
 
 And fancies fond with gaudy shapes possess. 
 As thick and numberless 
 
 As the gay motes that people the sunbeams. 
 Or likest hovering dreams, 
 
 _^ JThe fickle pensioners of Morpheus' train. 10 
 
 But, hail ! thou Goddess sag(r an dTTioly 1 
 Hail, divinest ]\Ielancholy ! 
 Whose saintly visage is too bright 
 To hit the sense of human sight. 
 And therefore to our weaker view 
 O'erlaid with black, staid Wisdom's hue ; 
 Black, but such as in esteem 
 Prince Memnon's sister might beseem, 
 Or that starred Ethiope queen that strove 
 To set .her beauty's praise above 20 
 
 The Sea Nymphs, and their powers otfended. 
 Yet thou art higher far descended : 
 Thee bright-haired Vesta long of yore 
 To solitary Saturn bore ; 
 His daughter she ; in Saturn's reign 
 Such mixture was not held a stain. 
 Oft in glimmering bowers and glades 
 He met her, and in secret shades 
 Of woody Ida's inmost grove, 
 While yet there was no fear of Jove. 30 
 
IL PEN8ER0S0 U 
 
 Come, pensive Xim, devout and pure. 
 Sober, steadfast, and demure, 
 All in a robe of darkest grain. 
 Flowing with majestic train. 
 And sable stole of cypress lawn 
 Over thy decent shoulders drawn. 
 , Come, but keep thy wonted state. 
 With even step, and musing gait, 
 And looks commercing with the skies, 
 Tiiy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes : 40 
 
 There, held in holy passion still. 
 Forget thyself to marble, till. 
 With a sad leaden downward cast. 
 Thou fix them on the earth as fast. 
 And join with thee calm Peace and Quiet, 
 Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet. 
 And hears the Muses in a ring 
 Aye round about Jove's altar sing ; 
 And add to these retired Leisure, ' 
 That in trim gardens takes his pleasure ; 50 
 
 But, first and chiefest, with thee bring 
 Him that yon soars on golden wing. 
 Guiding the fiery-wheeled throne. 
 The Cherub Contemplation ; 
 And the mute Silence hist along, 
 'Less Philomel will deign a song. 
 In her sweetest saddest plight, 
 Smoothing the rugged brow of Night, 
 While Cynthia checks her dragon yoke 
 Gently o'er the accustomed oak. (jo 
 
 Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of follv. 
 Most musical, most melancholy ! 
 Thee, chauntress, oft the woods among 
 I woo. to hear thy evensono- ; 
 And, missing thee, I walk unseen 
 On the dry smooth-shaven green. 
 To behold the wandering moon. 
 
12 IL PEN8ER0S0 
 
 Elding near her highest noon, 
 
 Like one that had been led astray 
 
 Throngh the heaven^s wide pathless way, 70 
 
 And oft, as if her head she bowed. 
 
 Stooping through a fleecy cloud. 
 
 Oft, on a phit of rising ground, 
 
 I hear the far-off curfew sound. 
 
 Over some wide-watered shore. 
 
 Swinging slow with sullen roar ; 
 
 Or, if the air will not permit. 
 
 Some still removed place will fit. 
 
 Where glowing emljcrs through the room 
 
 Teach light to counterfeit a gloom, 80 
 
 Far from all resort of mirth. 
 
 Save the cricket on the hearth. 
 
 Or the bellman's drowsy charm 
 
 To bless the doors from nightly harm. 
 
 Or let my lamp, at midnight hour. 
 
 Be seen in some high lonely tower. 
 
 Where I may oft outwatch the l^ear, 
 
 AVith thrice-great llermes, or unsphere J ^t<s ^vvj^c^ii^ 
 
 The spirit of Plato, to unfold 
 
 What worlds or what vast regions hold 90 
 
 The immortal mind that hath forsook 
 
 Her mansion in this fleshly nook ; 
 
 And of those demons that are found 
 
 In fire, air, flood, or underground. 
 
 Whose power hath a true consent 
 
 With planet or with element. 
 
 Sometime let gorgeous Tragedy 
 
 In sceptred pall come sweeping by. 
 
 Presenting Thebes, or Pelops' line, 
 
 Or the tale of Troy divine, 100 
 
 Or what (though rare) of later age 
 
 Ennobled hath the buskined stage. 
 
 But, sad Virgin I that thy power 
 
 Miffht raise Musfeus from his bower ; 
 
IL PENSEROSO 13 
 
 Or bid the souLof Orpheus slug 
 
 Such notes as, warbled to the string. 
 
 Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek, 
 
 And made Hell grant what love did seek ; 
 
 Or call up him that left half told 
 
 The story of Cambiiscan bold, 110 
 
 Of Camball, and of Algarsife, 
 
 And who had Canace to wife. 
 
 That owned the virtuous ring and glass, 
 
 And of the wondrous horse of brass 
 
 On which the Tartar king did ride ; 
 
 And if aught else great bards beside 
 
 In sage and solemn tunes have sung. 
 
 Of turneys, and of trophies hung. 
 
 Of forests, and enchantments drear. 
 
 Where more is meant than meets the ear. 120 
 
 Thus, Night, oft see me in thy pale career, '. 
 
 Till civil-suited Morn appear. 
 
 Not tricked and frounced, as she was Avont 
 
 With the Attic boy to hunt. 
 
 But kerchieft in a comely cloud. 
 
 While rocking winds are piping loud. 
 
 Or ushered with a shower still. 
 
 When the gust hath blown his fill. 
 
 Ending on the rustling leaves. 
 
 With minute-drops from off tlie eaves. 130 
 
 And, when tlie sun begins to fling 
 
 His flaring beams, me. Goddess, bring 
 
 To arched walks of twilight groves. 
 
 And shadows brown, that Sylvan loves. 
 
 Of pine, or monumental oak. 
 
 Where the rude axe with heaved stroke 
 
 Was never heard the nymphs to daunt. 
 
 Or fright them from their hallowed haunt. 
 
 There, in close covert, by some brook, 
 
 Where no profaner eye may look, 140 
 
 Hide me from day's garish eye, 
 
14 IL PENSEROSO 
 
 While the bee with honeyed tliigh, 
 
 That at her flowery work doth sing, 
 
 And the waters murmuring, 
 
 With such consort as they keep, 
 
 Entice the dewy-feathered Sleep. 
 
 And let some strange mysterious dream 
 
 Wave at his wings, in airy stream 
 
 Of lively portraiture displayed. 
 
 Softly on my eyelids laid ; 150 
 
 And, as I wake, sweet music breathe 
 
 Above, about, or underneath. 
 
 Sent by some Spirit to mortals good. 
 
 Or the unseen Genius of the wood. 
 
 But let my due feet never fail 
 
 To walk the studious cloister's pale. 
 
 And love the high embowed roof. 
 
 With antique pillars massy proof. 
 
 And storied windows richly dight. 
 
 Casting a dim religious light. 160 
 
 There let the pealing organ blow. 
 
 To the full-voiced quire below, 
 
 In service high and anthems clear. 
 
 As may with sweetness, through mine ear. 
 
 Dissolve me into ecstasies. 
 
 And bring all heaven before mine eyes. 
 
 And may at last my weary age 
 
 Find out the peaceful hermitage, 
 
 The hairy gown and mossy cell. 
 
 Where I may sit and rightly spell 170 
 
 Of every star that heaven doth shew. 
 
 And every herb that sips the dew, 
 
 Till old experience do attain 
 
 To something like prophetic strain. 
 
 These pleasures. Melancholy, give, 
 
 And I with thee will choose to live. 
 
COMIS 
 
 A MASK 
 PRESENTED AT LUDLOW CASTLE. 1634, 
 
 BEFORE 
 
 JOHN, EARL OF BRIDGEU'ATER, 
 THEN PRESIDENT OF WALES 
 
THE PEESOXS 
 
 The Attendant Spirit, afterwards in the habit of TiiYKSis. 
 CoMUs, witii his Crew. 
 The Lady. 
 
 FlHST BllOTHEK. 
 
 Second Bkothek. 
 Sabrina, the Nymph 
 
 The Chief Persons which presented were : 
 The Loud Brackley. 
 Mr. Thomas Egehton, his r.rother. 
 The Lady Alice Egerton. 
 
COMUS 
 
 [Milton had had some little experience in writing masques before 
 he undertook "Comus." and he must have seen and read not a few. 
 Although we cannot determine the exact date of " Arcades," it is 
 reasonably certain that it preceded " Comus " and that it may be 
 assigned to lGo3. It formed only " part of an entertainment pre- 
 sented to the Countess Dowager of Derby at Harefield," but we maybe 
 sure that it was a part as important as it was beautiful, and that the 
 poet's j)rentice hand was strengthened by writing it. He seems to 
 have been induced thus to honor a lady whose praises Spenser had 
 previously sung by the well-known musician, Henry Lawes, to whom 
 he afterwards dedicated a line sonnet. Lawes (1595-1662) was the 
 chief English composer of his time and must have known the Milton 
 family for some years. His talents won him a position at court and 
 the friendship of the leading poet.s of the time, whose songs he set to 
 music, receiving in return their poetical encomiums. He probably 
 gained more money, however, by furnishing music for the then 
 fashionable masques, so we find him collaborating in the performance 
 of Shirley's " Triumph of Peace," and composing single-handed the 
 music of Carew's "Coelum Britannicum." He was also music tutor 
 to the children of the Earl and Countess of Bridg'ewater, which seems 
 to explain his assumed connection with "Arcades." These children 
 would take part in the proposed entertainment to their grandmother 
 and would ask their instructor's help. He, knowing Milton well, 
 would apply to him for the necessary verses rather than to professional 
 masque writers, who would probably not care to undertake such a 
 slight piece of work. Milton's success was so conspicuous that when 
 another and more elaborate entertainment was contemplated by tlie 
 Bridgewater family, Lawes would again apply to him for poetical assist- 
 ance. This is a simple, if meagre, account of the way the young 
 Puritan poet was enlisted in the service of the distinguished Cavalier 
 family, for Warton's statement that Milton's fatlier was the Earl's 
 tenant at Horton has not been substantiated. 
 
 The occasion of this more elaborate entertainment was the formal 
 entrance of the Earl of Bridgewater upon his duties as Lord President 
 of Wales. He was the son, by a prior marriage, of the late Lord 
 
18 COM US 
 
 Keeper Egerton (better known as Baron EUesmere), who had espoused, 
 as a widower, that Countess Dowager of Derby before whom ''Ar- 
 cades" was performed. Sir John Egerton. the son, married this 
 lady's second daughter. Lady Frances Stanley, thus becoming the 
 Countess's stepson and son in-law. In 1617 he received his earldom, 
 and in 1631 became President of the Council of Wales and Lord 
 Lieutenant, not merely of North and South Wales, but of the four 
 English counties forming the Welsh Marches. He did not enter on 
 the duties of his office, or at any rate did not go to Wales, until the 
 spring of 1683, and his formal installation was delayed until the fall 
 of the next year. His official seat was the town of Ludlow in Shrop- 
 shire, and his residence the historic Ludlow Castle, now in ruins, but 
 then kept up in some state. To this castle the Bridgewater clan seems 
 to have gathered by the autumn of 1634, and this fact, together with 
 the prospect of a large concourse of neighboring gentry, would natu 
 rally give a particularly festive character to the entertainment pro- 
 posed. That a masque should be performed was not only in keeping 
 with the times, but was calculated to show off the accomplishments of 
 the President's children * to the best advantage, for his two sons, Lord 
 Brackley and Mr. Thomas Egerton, had in spite of their tender age 
 (the elder was only twelve) taken part the preceding year in Carew's 
 " Coelum Britannicum" and, probably, in "Arcades." The Lady 
 Alice Egerton, their sister, was slightly their senior and may be pre- 
 sumed to have acted before, at least in "Arcades;'' at all events 
 her musical abilities had been trained by Lawes. Additional reasons 
 for the production of a masque may be found in the fact that the liall 
 or other great rooms of the castle would afford an excellent place for 
 its presentation, and in the further fact that a courtier of the Earl's 
 "incomparable parts," to quote his tombstone, would naturally like 
 to inaugurate his rule with a species of entertainment particularly 
 associated with royalty and the upper nobility. But this leads us to 
 inquire what a masque was and what scope it furnished to the poetic 
 genius of the young man without whose aid the great entertainment 
 of Michaelmas night (September 29), 1634, would probably be totally 
 unknown to us. 
 
 Etymologically considered, the word "'mask'' or "masque" takes 
 us as far east as Arabia, for it is derived from the Arabic maskhanit, 
 a buffoon, through the Spanish ninscara^ a masquerader (Skeat). The 
 notion that the entertainment was called a masque because the per- 
 formers wore masques or visors seems to have reversed matters 
 entirely. The word has been spelt either mank or masque, the latter 
 form being of French origin. From an historical point of view, how- 
 
 * He seems to have been blessed with fifteen, two-thirds of whom were 
 living in 1634. 
 
COM us 19 
 
 ever, neither Arabia, nor Spain, nor France is of much importance to 
 us, the English masque plainly owing more to Italy than to any other 
 country.' 
 
 According to Mr. Symonds tlie Italian masque may practically be 
 said to date from the gorgeous ceremonies that attended the marriage 
 of Leonora of Aragon, daughter of King Ferdinand of Naples, with 
 Ercole D'Este, in 1474. When she passed through Rome, Cardinal 
 Pietro Riario entertained her with a regal magnificence and a taste, 
 which, if meretricious, nevertheless gave evidence of the wide-spread 
 effects of the Renaissance — for the very pastry was designed so as to 
 show the histories of Perseus, Atalanta, and Hercules. After a 
 banquet at which this pastry figured, similar histories were represented 
 on the dais by men and women ; the men, who impersonated each a 
 Jason, a Theseus, or a Hercules, proceeding at the sound of "fifes 
 and many other instruments ... to dance and dally with their 
 nymphs " and to beat away certain Centaurs who rushed forth to de- 
 prive them of the same. "There was beside," we are told on good 
 authority, ' ' a representation of Bacchus and Ariadne, with many 
 other spectacles of the greatest rarity and most inestimable cost •, " 
 but what is more to the point is the evidence that the artistic genius 
 of the times was enlisted in the service of these royal and ecclesiastical 
 merrymakers. 
 
 The next similar show of importance took place at Ferrara in 1503, 
 when the notorious Lucrezia Borgia married Alplionso D'Este. Ou 
 this occasion five comedies of Plautus were played on successive 
 nights, but the audiences doubtless enjoyed the fantastic mas(£ues and 
 ballets introduced between the scenes more than they did the dramas 
 themselves. One of these interludes was a masque of Cupid in which 
 the young god " shot arrows and sang madrigals." Here we plainly 
 have the embryo of the masque, as it was afterwards performed at the 
 court of the English James. In 1513 the first representation of Bib- 
 biena's "Calandria" at Urbino was attended by the introduction of 
 similar interludes between the acts of the comedy ; but there seems to 
 have been a considerable advance in the splendor and the mechanical 
 ingenuity displayed in the " Moresche " (c/*. morris-dance. See note 
 to C'omun, IIG), as the interludes were called. A special feature was 
 the introduction of chariots, which shows that these private entertain- 
 ments had been to some extent amalgamated with the public pageants 
 
 ' In preparing this slight sketch of the fortunes of the Engli.sli masque I 
 have relied chiefl}' on Ward's History of Eiu/lish Dramatic Literature, 
 Symonds's Shakxj^ere's Predecessors in the English Drama, Mas.son's Life 
 of Milton (Vol. I.), Warton's edition of Milton's Minor Poems, Swinburne's 
 Study of Ben Jonson, Verity's edition of Comus (Introduction), and my own 
 reading of the masques themselves. 
 
20 COML'S 
 
 or triumphs, processional shows which reached their culmination in 
 the Carnivals of Florence. For these pageants such architects as 
 Brunelleschi made large drafts upon their inventive genius, which 
 prepares us to appreciate the part played by Inigo Jones in the stag- 
 ing of the Jacobean masque. After the interlude and the pageant 
 had been combined, there seems to have been practically no limit set 
 to the extravagant magnificence of royal weddings aud other such 
 functions, especially in Florence. Mr. Symonds furnishes graphic 
 descriptions of two Florentine marriage festivals as well as of the 
 dazzling and sumptuous entertainments given by the Republic of 
 Venice to the Duke of Anjou, afterwards Henry III. of France ; but 
 those who are desirous of further information on the subject must 
 consult his pages, for we are now prepared to consider more specifi- 
 cally the development of the English masque, which, like its Italian 
 prototype, was to give scope to the amateur actor of high birth, to the 
 engineer, the painter, the sculptor, the architect, and the musician, 
 to say nothing of the dancing-master, the dress-maker, and the 
 upholsterer, and finally to the poet, in this respect surpassing any- 
 thing that Italy had had to boast. 
 
 Strictly speaking, the masque did not make its appearance in Eng- 
 land until the early part of the sixteenth century; but, as in Italy, 
 tliere had existed courtly entertainments and public pageants that 
 might in time, one would think, have coalesced into a very similar 
 liybrid performance. There were '' disguisings " and " mummings " 
 performed by courtiers and paid servants as early as the reign of 
 Edward III., and while dancing was probably the chief feature of 
 these entertainments, it is likely that there was more or less assuming 
 of characters, allegorical and mythological. A pantomime representing 
 the life of St. George is said to liave entertnined tlie Emperor Sigis- 
 mund when he visited England in 1416, and later there seem to have 
 been companies of actors kept by the kings and chief nobles. There 
 was even an official superintendence of the Court Revels by a person- 
 age known as the .\bbot of Misrule. 
 
 On the other hand, we hear of City Pageants in London before the 
 middle of the tliirteenth century. They were mainly fostered by the 
 Trade Guilds, and consisted of a procession of symbolical scenes repre- 
 senting the various trades. Proba'dy the miracle plays and other rude 
 popular performances sufficed to satisfy the dramatic instincts of the 
 crowd, but later on even the City shows took a literary cast and 
 dramatists like Decker and Peele furnished the necessary speeches. 
 These processions, as Mr. Verity has remarked, were "not so artistic as 
 the Florentine Trionfi, not so classical, but essentially akin." The same 
 editor draws attention to the fact that familiarity with them must 
 have stood the masque writers in good stead, aud instances Shirley's 
 
COMUS 21 
 
 "Triumph of Peace." which, though acted at Whitehall, had pre- 
 viously passed through a portion of the City as a pageant. But per- 
 haps as good a way as any to get an idea of what English genius could 
 do in this direction is to compare with a description of one of the 
 chief Florentine shows the elaborate " Part of King James's Enter 
 tainment. in Passing to his Coronation, " which heads the collection of 
 Ben Jonson's masques. The sprightly grace of the Italians is con- 
 spicuous in the latter by its absence, but English solidity is over all. 
 
 Xow, with royal and private '" mummings " and City Pageants and 
 Puritanism still in the distance, it is no wonder that the Italian masque 
 should have found its way to England even before its culmination 
 in Florence. Hall's " Chronicle' gives a brief description of a court 
 masque in which that jovial monarch, Henry VIII., took a hand, to 
 the astonishment, it would seem, of some of the ladies of the court. 
 This was about 1512-13. Some years later it was Cardinal Wolsey who 
 was astonished— an epi-sode that Shakspere lias made use of in '• Henry 
 VIII." Other entertainments of all sorts, from a Latin satirical play 
 in which Luther and his wife figured to mere morris-dancing, seem 
 to have occupied the court considerably during this reign, and in l.")44 
 a special Master of the Bevels was appointed to superintend them. 
 Under Edward VI. much of this levity was suppressed, and licenses 
 were required for the production of plays and interludes even by 
 actors attached to the households of the great nobles. Mary's reign 
 was not quite so antagonistic to the " mummers," but it was not until 
 Elizabeth's time that the masque got a fair chance to develop. She 
 and Leicester were both fond of the stage, but with wise economy the 
 queen preferred to have entertainments given her on her progresses at 
 her subjects' expense. Scott's description of the Kenilworth pageants 
 is, of course, well known. She did, however, despatch a company of 
 masquers to Scotland in 1580 in honor of James's consort, Anne of 
 Denmark, and, as ]\Ir. Verity has noted, the comedies of Lyly wliicli 
 received her patrona<re were not far removed fiom masques. 
 
 But Elizabeth's reign is not the golden age of the English masque. 
 That honor, such as it is, belongs to her Scotch successor, whose mixed 
 character was naturally appealed to by a hybrid entertainment. James 
 was perfectly willing to lavish his subjects' money on his own pleas- 
 ures, and if he did not have as great architects and painters as those of 
 Italy to help him spend it, he had at any rate a learned poet to put to- 
 gether scenes tliiit would appeal to his pedantry and flattering veisesthat 
 would tickle his vanity. He had besides an architect of fine talent 
 in Inigo Jones, who had studied in the school of Palladio, an Italian 
 composer of merit in Ferrabosco. and a good choreograph to arrange 
 the dances and costumes in Thomas Giles. These men labored 
 assiduously and successfully to please their royal master, and other 
 
22 COMUS 
 
 poets besides Beu Jonson and the lords and ladies of the court, who 
 needed no great ability to do the acting required, seconded well their 
 efforts. Nor did the great nobles fail to vie witli one another in giving 
 these costlj entertainments whenever a wedding or a royal visit fur- 
 nished a proper occasion, and even the grave lawyers of the Inns of 
 the Court were eager to win distinction and the king s favor by the 
 flattering extravagance of pageants at which many a grim Puritan 
 burgher must have cast glances of wonder and indignation. Mr. 
 Symonds has collected some interesting figures bearing on this extrav- 
 agance which make us sympathize a little with the Puritan. Ben 
 Jonson s '"Masque of Blackness," in 1009, cost the court £3,000; 
 Daniel's " Hymeu s Triumph," four years later, cost the same amount. 
 Shirley's " Triumph of Peace," in 1034, cost the Inns of Court over 
 £20,000, but here an expensive parade was included. These are the 
 highest figures, but Mr. Symonds estimates that the average masque 
 cost at least £1,400 — in round numbers about £5,600, or $38,000, 
 when estimated according to our present standard of values. It is 
 needless to say that after 1640 little money was expended on such per- 
 formances. Other sorts of entertainments became fashionable after 
 the Restoration, and it seems that most of what was good in the 
 masque passed into that other rather hybrid production — the mod- 
 ern opera. 
 
 It now remains to say something about the masque from its literary 
 side, for that is the side from which we have to approach " Comus," 
 and, indeed, the side from which Milton approached it. Beu Jonson is 
 facile prlnceps among the poets who devoted themselves to this form 
 of composition, and he unquestionably deserves the credit of having 
 made it a sub-variety of dramatic literature worthy of study. Other 
 poets followed him, such as Chapman Fletcher (both of whom were 
 acknowledged by Jonson to be capable of writing a masque), Daniel, 
 Shirley, Browne, and Carew, but only one surpassed him— the author 
 of '• Comus." Even Shakspere was willing to introduce into his plays 
 interludes that may be called masques {e.(j.. "Tempest," IV.), but he 
 seems to do it to tickle the courtiings, just as he condescended to 
 scenes of low comedy to tickle the groundlings. Jonson, however, 
 looked upon the masque as a form of art worthy to stand by itself, 
 and he had a famous controversy with Inigo Jones, in which he 
 scored the latter for his presumption in thinking that his part in the 
 joint production was of the greater importance. Critics generally 
 have held that Jonson was right, and have praised his masques highly 
 as pieces of pure literature. For my own part, I must confess to a 
 sneaking sympathy with Master Inigo Jones, and to an almost com 
 plete agreement with the very tempered praise which Mr. Swinburne 
 allots to this portion of Jonson's work. Of course, such a writer as 
 
COMUS 23 
 
 Jonson could not fail to give us occasional touches of admirable hu- 
 mor — he seems to have introduced the antiiiiasque or comic interlude 
 for this purpose— nor could he help striking at times an exquisite 
 lyric note in his songs. But often enough the humor is forced and 
 heavy, the songs uninspired, and the slight plot and allegorical and 
 mythological characters rather lifeless without the pageantry and mu- 
 sic that once made them delight the audiences at Whitehall. It would 
 not be entirely fair to compare a typical masque with the libretto of 
 an opera or a rose picked up from a deserted ball-room tloor, but it 
 suggests these things 
 
 A slight analysis of a good masque will, however, enable the stu- 
 dent to realize the nature of the form of art "Comus " represeuts bet- 
 ter than any unenthusiastic criticism of the greatest English masque 
 writer. Professor Masson has given in the first volume of his " Life 
 an excellent sketch of the performance of Shirley's " Triumph of 
 Peace " (a costly and curious proof of the readiness of the English to 
 show their loyalty to any institution or custom that has been attacked, 
 for the pageant was called forth by Prynne s famous denunciation of 
 the public and private stage in the " Histriomastix " ) ; but this ac- 
 count is too long to quote and I should not like to spoil it by abridg- 
 ment. I shall therefore content myself with a sketch of William 
 Browne's delightful " Inner Temple Masque," which was perhaps 
 not without its influence on ''Comus" This masque was performed 
 on January 13, 1614-15, but was not printed until 1772. Copies of 
 it were in existence, however, and it is hard to believe that Milton 
 was unacqnaiiited with it. 
 
 The first scene is thus described: " On one side the hall towards 
 the lower end was discovered a cliff of the sea done over in part white 
 according to that of Virgil, lib. 5 [quotation follows]. Upon it were 
 seated two sirens as they are described by Hyginns and Servius, with 
 their upper parts like women to the navel and the rest like a hen. 
 One of these at the first discovery of the scene (a sea being done in 
 perspective on one side the cliff) began to sing this song, etc." Then 
 followed two stanzas of a pretty song of allurement, of which we are 
 told that " the last two lines were repeated as from a grove near by a 
 full chorus, and the siren about to sing again," when "Triton (in 
 all parts as Apollonius, lib. 4, Argonautic, shows him) was seen in- 
 terrupting her thus : 
 
 " Leave, leave, alluring siren, with thy song 
 To hasten what the Fates would fain prolong : 
 Your sweetest tunes but groans of mandrakes be ; 
 He his own traitor is that heareth thee," 
 
 and so on for nine pentameter couplets of the liquid beauty so char- 
 
24 COMUS 
 
 acteristic of Browne. To him the siren replies in eleven couplets and 
 explains that the mighty Circe, "daughter to the sun," has bid her 
 sing, whom she will obey though all the gods on O'ympus were to en- 
 treat her to stop A short dialogue ensues, after which Triton takes 
 his departure to inform his mistress Tethys of the failure of his errand, 
 while the siren concludes the third stanza of her song. 
 
 ■■ At the end of this song Circe was seen upon the rock quaintly at- 
 tired, her hair loose about her shoulders, an anadem of flowers ou her 
 head, with a wand in her hand ; and then, making towards the sirens, 
 called them thence " with a speech the purport of which was that 
 they should cease singing now that Ulysses and his companions had 
 " cast their hook d anchors on ^Eoea's strand." A luscious descrip- 
 tion of the beauties of the island followed, and then the sirens were 
 commanded to go with her " to the bower To fit their welcome and 
 show Circe's power" (11. 65-96). 
 
 We are now brought to the second scene. ■ While Circe was speak- 
 ing her first speech ... a traverse [curtain] was drawn at tli-; lower 
 end of the hall, and gave way for the discovery of an artificial wood so 
 near imitating nature that I think, had there been a grove like it in 
 the open plain, birds would have been fa.ster drawn to that than to 
 Zeuxis' grapes The trees stood at the climbing of an hill, and left at 
 their foot a little plain, which they circled like a crescent. In this 
 space upon hillocks were seen eight musicians in crimson taffety 
 robes, with chaplets of laurels on their heads, their lutes b}' them, 
 which being by them touched as a warning to the nymphs of the 
 wood, from anion-.; the trees was heard this song . 
 
 " AVhat sing the sweet birds in each grove ? 
 
 Nought but love. 
 What sound our echoes day and night ? 
 
 k\\ delight. 
 W^hat doth each wind breathe as it fleets ? 
 
 Endless sweets. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 " Is there a place on earth this Isle excels. 
 Or any nymphs more happy live than we ? 
 When all our songs, our sounds, and breathings be, 
 That here all love, delight, ami sweetness dwells. 
 
 By this time, Circe and the sirens being come into the wood, 
 Ulysses was seen lying asleep, under the covert of a fair tree." Circe 
 approached, and aroused him from his enchanted slumbers by singing 
 over him the "powerful verses " of a charm whose lyric beauty may 
 
COMUS 25 
 
 well be compared with Sabrina's exorcizing soug at the close of 
 " Comus." Ulysses then awoke, and. addressing Circe as "Thou 
 more than mortal maid." sought to know what fate she intended to 
 him and his companions. Circe avowed her love for him and painted 
 in alluring colors the bliss they would have together should the far- 
 wandered Greek yield to her caresses (11. 107-164). 
 
 At this point the antimasque. or comic interlude, began as follows : 
 " Here one attired like a woodman in all points came forth of the 
 wood and going towards the stage sung this song to call away the first 
 antimasque." While the first staff of this song (11. 165-192), of no 
 great humor or beauty, was being sung, ' out of the thickets on either 
 side the boskage came rushing the antimasque, being such as by 
 Circe were supposed to have been transformed (having the minds of 
 men still) into these shapes following : 
 
 " 2. With parts, heads and bodies as Actseon is pictur'd. 
 
 "2. Like Midas with asses' ears 
 
 " 2. Like wolves as Lycaon is drawn. 
 
 " 2. Like baboons 
 
 "Grillus (of whom Plutarch writes in his Morals) in the shape of a 
 hog.' 
 
 This Grillus. on whom a good deal of the comic effect hinges, slipped 
 away while his companions were dancing " an antic measure." and 
 then the woodman sang another song dismissing the antimasque (11. 
 193-216). who it must be remembered were performing in the pres- 
 ence of Circe and Ulysses for the latter's delight. Then follows a 
 dialogue in couplets, in which Ulysses complains of the treatment 
 his companions have received, and Circe promises redress (11. 217-266). 
 The poetry of the passage is exquisite, as is the song which follows 
 with these directions : " Presently in the wood was heard a full music 
 of lutes, which descending to the stage had to them sung the following 
 song, the Echoes being placed in several parts of the boscage. 
 
 SONO. 
 
 " Circe bids you come away. 
 
 Echo : Come away, come awa}-. 
 From the rivers, from the sea. 
 
 Echo : From the sea, from the sea," etc. 
 
 After the song the second antimasque came in, cousi.sting of seven 
 nymphs, whose attire was minutely described. These dance " a most 
 curious measure to a softer tune than the first antimasque," the comi:; 
 element being noticeably absent. Then a short dialogue ensues be- 
 tween Ulysses and Circe, in which the latter promises to lend the 
 former her wand that he may restore his companions to their normal 
 
26 C0MU8 
 
 shapes (11. 280-295). This task forms the motif of the Third Scene, 
 which must be very briefly dealt with. The stage setting is most 
 elaborately described, as are the costumes of the maskers, who are 
 "discovered iu several seats leaning as if asleep." Ulysses touches 
 each of them with his wand to the accompaniment of a pretty song, 
 whereupon " the knights" arise and are brought by Ulysses " to the 
 [front of the ?J stage," loud music sounding, to which they dance 
 their first measure. Another song brings them to the second dance, 
 then a third song bids them choose the ladies they wish to take out. 
 " The old measures, galliards. corautoes, the brawls, etc.,'" are danced 
 together, theu the ladies are led to their seats, the knights dance an- 
 other measure, and a fourth song calls them away. 
 
 Such was the beautiful "Inner Temple Masque," the strictly liter- 
 ary portion of which amounted to only 329 verses. It is plain that, 
 in spite of Browne's really delightful poetry and his facile inventive- 
 ness, the main features of the eutertaiument were the scenery, the 
 costumes, the dancing, and the music. In " Comus," however, as the 
 student will not fail to observe, Milton, while following the traditions 
 of his predecessors, lays as little stress as possible upon externals, and 
 concentrates his energy chiefly upon the literary side of his work. 
 Against the 329 verses of Browne he gives us 1,023, a considerable por- 
 tion of which belong to the metrical form appropriate to the regular 
 drama rather than to the masque — a fact which has led to not a little 
 misapprehension among critics as to the real nature of his poem and 
 has to a certain extent justified .«tome of them, notably Dr. Johnson, 
 iu demanding more action and subtler differentiation of character. 
 
 As we have seen, the masque was acted at Ludlow Castle on 
 Michaelmas night, 1634. In order to give time for the setting of the 
 songs to music and the training of the actors the poet must have been 
 ready with his manuscript at least by the beginning of the summer of 
 that year. Lawes probably gave him such personal details about the 
 actors and the scene of the intended performance as would enable him 
 to insert the proper compliments and to introduce Sabrina in honor of 
 the river Severn. It may possibly be that Milton, like the majority 
 of his countrymen, felt that Prynne had gone too far in his " Histri- 
 omastix," and that the young Puritan was not sorr}- to have an oppor- 
 tunity to show that religious sincerity has no necessary connection 
 with a long face. He may, too. have been glad of an occasion to 
 measure his strength with the greatest poets of the day ; and, perhaps, 
 he may have desired to air his philosophy. But this is all mere con- 
 jecture. What we do know for certain is that Lord Brackley per- 
 formed the part of the First Brother, Mr. Thomas Egerton of the 
 Second Brother, Lady Alice Egerton of the Lady, and Lawes of the 
 Attendant Spirit. We do not know who took the part of Comus, or 
 
COMUS 27 
 
 who composed his rout or the company of dancing shepherds (iu the 
 normal antimasque the performers were generally hired actors), but 
 iu all probability other children of the Earl and his friends or retainers 
 filled the remaining parts. We are not even informed how the 
 masque was received or whether Milton saw it produced, but we do 
 know that copies of " Comus ' were asked for by Lawess friends, and 
 that, to save himself trouble, he had an edition published in 1637 
 probably from the acting-copy. The name of the writer was omitted,' 
 but the motto prefixed showed that his reluctant consent had been ob- 
 tained for the publication. Neither in this nor in the editions of 
 1645 and 1673 was the title "Comus "employed, its author preferring 
 the simpler designation-'- A Mask." Lawes's edition was dedicated 
 to Lord Brackley and preceded by a very complimentary letter " to 
 the author" from the famous Sir Henry Wotton. This dedication 
 and letter were retained in the 1645 edition, but omitted from that of 
 1673. Milton no longer needed or wanted the support of distin- 
 guished names, and, as he certainly does not need them now, I have 
 followed the last edition. It should be added that " Comus " exists 
 in Milton's handwriting among the Cambridge MSS., and that another 
 copy, known as the Bridgewater MS., is extant, which is supposed to 
 be the acting-copy and to be in Lawe.s's handwriting. The variations 
 in the text are not great, and are sufficiently dealt with in the notes. 
 
 The ingenuity of critics and editors has been con.sideral»ly exercised 
 over the sources from which Milton drew his i)lot and. to a certain 
 extent, his inspiration. The often repeated story that the masque 
 was founded on an actual adventure that befell the Lady Alice Egerton 
 and her brothers seems to rest on slight foundations and is rather 
 based on "Comus" than "Comus" on it. Putting this aside, the 
 main sources about which critics are pretty well agreed are George 
 Peele's play, "The Old Wives' Tale," Fletchers "The Faithful 
 Shepherdess,' the Circe myth as detailed in tlie classical authors, and 
 in Spenser and his school of poets, and finally, the "Comus" of 
 Puteanus and Jonson's masque, "Pleasure Reconciled to Virtue." 
 With regard to Peele's play, which was printed in 1595, there can be 
 little doubt that it stimulated Milton's imagination and gave him the 
 kernel of his plot. As to Fletchers delightful pastoral comedy, of which 
 at least three editions seem to have been published before " Comus " 
 was acted, and which had been revived as a court-play in the winter of 
 1633-34, there can be little doubt that Milton was more indebted to it 
 than Fletcher was to Tasso and Guarini. The motif of the two poems 
 is the same, the power of chastity to ward off evils, yet here Milton is 
 much more plainly lord of his native province than Fletcher is. But 
 the effect of Fletcher's exquisite lyrical style as seen in the latter 
 portion of " Comus " is what most closely connects the two poets. It 
 
28 COMUS 
 
 is impossible to bring out this influence clearly either here or in tlie 
 notes, where a few quotations from Fletcher will be found, but the 
 student may be confidently referred to the elder poet s work to dis- 
 cover the extent and quality of the younger poet's indebtedness. Our 
 author's literary obligations with regard to his use of the Circe myth are 
 nob very definitely traceable. He naturally had recourse to the 
 '■ Odyssey, ' directly or indirectly, for that great poem is the fountain- 
 head of romance. Ovid had previously drawn from the same source 
 with regard to the same subject (" Metamorphoses, " lib. xiv.) and 
 minute critics have detected in " Comus " the influence of the Roman 
 poet. Still more patent, however, is the influence of Spenser and 
 the great romantic poets of Italy, who sang "of forests and enchant- 
 ments drear." The Circe myth is also, as we have seen, the sub- 
 ject of Browne s " Inner Temple Masque, ' and there are several 
 touches in " Comus" that may possibly be traceable to it. Milton 
 was too young to have seen the masque performed, and I do not 
 find any evidence in the latest edition of Browne's poems that his 
 charming trifle was revived ; still, more than one manuscript copy of 
 it was in existence, and Milton is known to have been interested in 
 " Britannia's Pastorals." A copy of the folio edition of the latter 
 poem in Mr. Huth's library is even thought to contain annotations by 
 him. 
 
 It will be remembered that Milton did not give his masque the 
 name it now bears ; perhaps he was actuated both by modesty and by 
 a desire to avoid the confusion of his poem with a Latin play entitled 
 "Comus," written by a professor at Louvain, Hendrik van der Putten 
 or, as he was known to the scholarly world, Erycius Puteanus. This 
 "extravaganza in prose and verse," as Masson calls it, had been print- 
 ed in 1608 and an English edition had ajji^eared at Oxford in 1634. 
 I have not been able to see a copy of it, but I gather from the editors 
 that it is not unlikely that Milton had seen the book and taken a few 
 hints from it. Ben Jonson, too, in his masque, "Pleasure Recon- 
 ciled to 'Virtue" (1619), had introduced Comus as a character, but 
 only as " the god of cheer or the Belly." Milton could have got little 
 inspiration from this "first father of sauce and deviser of jelly," 
 whose personal appearance, though resembling that of our great Co- 
 inns, was plainly derived from the ''Imagines" of the elder Philos- 
 tratus. The Comus of Puteanus is said to be " a much subtler em- 
 bodiment of sensual hedonism" (Verity) than Jonson's belly-god, but 
 all good critics are agreed that Milton's conception of the character is 
 essentially his own and that, in the words of his chief biographer, " he 
 was bold enough to add a brand-new god, no less, to the classic Pan- 
 theon, and to import him into Britain." But it would seem that Pu- 
 teanus ought at least to have the credit for having seen that the shad- 
 
GOMUS 29 
 
 owy deity of the post-classical period could be developed into a figure 
 of iuterest and importance. ' 
 
 So much space has been devoted to describing the evolution of Mil- 
 ton's great poem that there is little room to discuss the masque itself, 
 which is a matter of slight consequence to the genuine lover of poetry. 
 For such an one will need no editor or critic to point out to him the 
 abiding loveliness and beauty of this purest of English poems "' Co- 
 mus" is great in the purity and beauty of its sentiments, in the depth 
 and range of its underlying philosophy, in the nobility of its diction, 
 and the lluidity of its rhythmical movement. It is not great structu- 
 rally and could not have maintained the grand style at its height ; but 
 this is only another way of saying that in 1634 Milton could not have 
 written " Paradise Lost." The imperfect of a higher species may, how- 
 ever, be worth much more to us than the perfect of a lower species. 
 Gray's " Elegy " is more perfect as a work of art than " Comus " and 
 is beautiful in itself, but Milton's masque obviously represents a far 
 higher poetical achievement] 
 
 Tlie first Scene discovers a wild wood. 
 
 The Attendant Spirit descends or enters. 
 
 Before the starry threshold of Jove's court 
 My mansion is, where those immortal shapes 
 Of bright aerial spirits live insphered 
 In regions mild of calm and serene air, 
 Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot 
 Which men call Earth, and, with low-though ted care, 
 Confined and pestered in this pjnfokl here. 
 Strive to keep up a frail and feverish being. 
 Unmindful of the crown that Virtue gives, 
 I A fter th is mortal change, to her true servants 10 
 
 Amongst the enthroned gods on sainted seats. 
 Yet some there be that by due steps aspire * 
 To lay their just hands on that golden key 
 That opes the palace of eternity. 
 To such my errand is ; and, but for such, 
 I would not soil these pure ambrosial weeds 
 
 ' With regard to the Comus of antiquity the student may consult the note 
 to line 58 of the masque. 
 
30 
 
 COMUS 
 
 With the rank vapors of this sin-worn mold. 
 
 But to my task. Neptune besides the sway 
 Of every salt flood and each ebbing stream. 
 Took in by lot, 'twixt high and nethe r Jove, 30 
 
 Imperial rule of all the sea-girt isles 
 That, like to rich and various gems, inlay 
 The unadorned bosom of the deep ; 
 Which he, to grace his tributary gods, 
 By course commits to several government. 
 And gives them leave to wear their sapphire crowns 
 And wield their little tridents. But this Isle, 
 The greatest and the best of all the main, 
 He quarters to his blue- haired deities ; 
 And all this tract that fronts the falling sun 30 
 
 A noble Peer of mickle trust and power 
 Has in his charge, with tempered awe to guide 
 An old and haughty nation, proud in arms : 
 Where his fair offspring, nursed in princely lore. 
 Are coming to attend their father's state. 
 And new-intrusted sceptre. But their way 
 Lies through the perjDlexed paths of this drear wood. 
 The nodding horror of whose shady brows 
 Threats the forlorn and wandering passenger ; 
 And here their tender age might sulfer peril, 40 
 
 But that, by quick command from sovran Jove, 
 I was despatched for their defense and guard : 
 And listen why ; for I will tell you now 
 " What never yet was heard in tale or song, 
 4 From old or modern bard, in hall or bower. 
 
 Bacchus, that first from out the purple grape 
 Crushed the sweet poison of misused wine. 
 After the Tuscan marinersjtransf ormed. 
 Coasting the Tyrrhene shore, as the winds listed. 
 On Circe's island fell (who knows not Circe, 50 
 
 The daughter of the Sun, whose charmed cup 
 Whoever tasted lost his upright shape. 
 And downward fell into a grovelling swine ?) 
 
C0MU8 31 
 
 This Nymph, that gazed upon his clustering locks, 
 
 With ivy berries wreathed, and his blithe youth, 
 
 Had by him, ere he parted thence, a son 
 
 Much like his father, but his mother more, 
 
 Whom therefore she brought up, and Comus named : 
 
 Who, ripe and frolic of his full-grown age, 
 
 Eoving the Celtic and Iberian fields, 60 
 
 At last betakes him to this ominous wood. 
 
 And, in thick shelter of black shades imbowered, 
 
 Excels his mother at her mighty art ; 
 
 Offering to every weary traveller 
 
 His orient lic[uor in a crystal glass. 
 
 To quench the drouth qf^Phoebus ; which as they taste 
 
 (For most do taste tTirough fond intemperate thirst). 
 
 Soon as the potion works, their human count'nance, 
 
 The express resemblance of the gods, is changed 
 
 Into some brutish form of wolf or bear, 70 
 
 Or ounce or tiger, hog, or bearded goat. 
 
 All other parts remaining as they were. 
 
 And they, so perfect i s tlieinjilisfiliy, 
 
 Not once perceive their foul disfigurement, 
 
 But boast themselves more comely than before. 
 
 And all their friends and native home forget. 
 
 To roll with pleasure in a sensual sty. 
 
 Therefore, when any favored of high Jove 
 
 Chances to pass through this adventurous glade. 
 
 Swift as the sparkle of a glancing star 80 
 
 I shoot from heaven, to give him safe convoy. 
 
 As now I do. But first I must put off 
 
 These my sky robes, spun out of Iris' woof, 
 
 And take the weeds and likeness of a swain 
 
 That to the service of this house belongs ; 
 
 Who, with his soft pipe and smooth -dittied song. 
 
 Well knows to still the wild winds when they roar. 
 
 And hush the waving woods ; nor of less faith. 
 
 And in this office of his mountain watch 
 
 Likeliest, and nearest to the present aid 90 
 
32 COMUS 
 
 Of this occasion. But I hear the tread 
 Of hateful steps ; I must be viewless now. 
 
 CoMUS enters, nnth a cliarmiiuj-rod in one Itand, his glass in 
 the other ; with him a rout of monsters, headed like sun- 
 dry sorts of iviid beasts, but otherwise like men and 
 women, their apparel glisteriwj. They come in making 
 a riotous and unruly noise, irit/i torches in their Jiands. 
 
 Comus. The star that bids the she])lierd fold 
 Now the top of heaven doth hold ; 
 And the gilded car of day 
 His glowing axle doth allay 
 In the steep Atlantic stream ; 
 And the slope sun his upward beam 
 Shoots against the dusky pole, 
 
 Pacing toward the other goal 100 
 
 Of his chamber in the east. 
 Meanwhile, welcome joy and feast, 
 ]\[idniglit shout and revelry, 
 Tipsy dance and jollity. 
 Braid your locks with rosy tAvinc, 
 Dropping odors, dropping wine. 
 Kigor now is gone to bed : 
 And Advice with scrupulous head. 
 Strict Age, and sour Severity. 
 
 With their grave saws, in slumber lie. 110 
 
 We, that are of purer fire, 
 Imitate the starry quire. 
 Who, in their nightly watchful spheres, 
 Lead in swift round the months and years. 
 The sounds and seas, with all their finny drove, 
 Now to the moon in wavering_morrice^ move ; 
 And on the tawny sands and shelves 
 Trip tlie pert fairies and the dapper elves. 
 By dimpled brook and fountain-brim. 
 The wood-nymphs, decked with daisies trim, 120 
 
 Their merry wakes and pastimes keep : 
 
"H 
 
 COMVS 33 
 
 What hath night to do with sleep ? 
 
 Night hath better sweets to prove ; 
 
 Venus now wakes, and wakens Love. 
 
 Come, let us our rights begin ; 
 
 'Tis only daylight that makes sin. 
 
 Which these dun shades will ne'er report. 
 
 Hail, goddess of nocturnal sport. 
 
 Dark-veiled Colytlii, to whom the secret flame 
 
 Of midnight torches burns ! mysterious dame. 130 
 
 That ne'er art called but when the dragon womb 
 
 Of Stygian darkness spets her thickest gloom. 
 
 And makes one blot of all the air I 
 
 Stay thy cloudy ebon chair, 
 
 Wherein thou rid'st with Heca^ and befriend 
 
 Us tliy vowed priests, till utmost end 
 
 Of all thy dues be done, and none left out ; 
 
 Ere the blabbing eastern scout. 
 
 The nice Morn on the Indian ^teep. 
 
 From her cabined loop-hole peep, 140 
 
 And to the tell-tale Sun descry 
 
 Our concealed solemnity. 
 
 Come, knit hands, and beat the ground 
 
 In a light fantastic round. [77/e Measure. 
 
 Break off, break off I I feel the different pace 
 Of some chaste footing near about this ground. 
 Run to your shrouds within these brakes and trees ; 
 Our numl)er may affright. Some virgin sure 
 (For so I can distinguish by mine art) 
 Benighted in these woods I Now to my charms, 150 
 And to my wily trains : T shall ere long 
 Be well stocked with as fair a herd as grazed 
 About my mother Circe. Thus I hurl 
 My dazzling spells into the spongy air. 
 Of power to cheat the eye with blear illusion. 
 And give it false presentments, lest the place 
 And my quaint habits breed astonishment, 
 And put the damsel to suspicious flight ; 
 3 
 
1 
 
 34 COMUS 
 
 Which must not be, for that's against my course. 
 
 I, under fair pretense of friendly ends, 160 
 
 And well-placed words of glozing courtesy, 
 
 Baited with reasons not unplausible. 
 
 Wind me into the easy-hearted man, 
 
 And hug him into snares. When once her eye 
 
 Hath met the virtue of this magic dust, 
 
 I shall apjDcar some harmless villager. 
 
 Whom thrift keeps up about his country gear. 
 
 But here she comes ; I fairly step aside. 
 
 And hearken, if I may, her business here. 
 
 Tfie Lady enters. 
 
 Lady. This way the noise was, if mine ear be true, 170 
 My best guide now. Methought it was the sound 
 Of riot and ill-managed merriment. 
 Such as the jocund flute or gamesome pipe 
 8tirs up among the loose unlettered hinds. 
 When, for their teeming flocks and granges full, 
 .1 In wanton dance they praise the bounteous Pan, 
 
 And thank Tfie gods amiss. I should be loth 
 To meet the rudeness and s^villed insolence 
 Of such late wassailers ; yet, oh ! where else 
 Shall I inform my unacquainted feet 180 
 
 In the blind mazes of this tangled wood ? 
 My brothers, when they saw me wearied out 
 With tliis long way, resolving here to lodge 
 Under the spreading favor of these pines. 
 Stepped, as they said, to the next thicket side 
 To bring me berries, or such cooling fruit {. 
 
 As the kind hospitable woods provide. \i 
 
 They left me then when the gray-hooded Even, 
 Like a sad votarist in palmer's weed, 
 Kose from the hindmost wheels of Phoebus' wain. 190 
 But where they are. and why they came not back. 
 Is now the labor of my thoughts. 'Tis likeliest 
 
kO/a^' 
 
 U^^ 
 
 GOMUS 35 
 
 They had engaged their wandering steps' too far ; 
 -And envions darkness, ere they could return, 
 '^ Had stole them from me. Else, thievish Night, /A^tft'*^^^'^ 
 Why shouldst thou, but for some felonious end, ' , u i' 
 
 In thy dark lantern thus close up the stars 
 That Nature hung in heaven, and filled their lamps 
 With everlasting oil, to give due light 
 To the misled and lonely traveller ? 200 
 
 This is the place, as well as I may guess. 
 Whence even now the tumult of loud mirth 
 Was rife, and perfect in my listening ear ; 
 Yet naught but single darkness do I find. 
 What might this be ? A thousand fantasies 
 Begin to throng into my memory, 
 
 Of calling shapes, and beckoning shadows dire, [ fjLm^g^ 
 
 And airy tongues that syllable men's names - — ^y\^tr^^*^^\ 
 On sands and shores and desert wildernesses. 
 These thoughts may startle well, but not astound 210 
 The virtuous mind, that ever walks attended 
 By a strong siding champion. Conscience. 
 0, welcome, pure-eyed Faith, white-handed Hope, 
 Thou hovering angel girt with golden wings. 
 And thou unblemished form of Chastity ! 
 I see ye visibly, and now believe 
 That He, the Supreme Good, to whom all things ill 
 Are but as slavish officers of vengeance. 
 Would send a glistering guardian, if need were. 
 To keep my life and honor unassailed. — 220 
 
 Was I deceived, or did a sable cloud ^\ , 
 Turn forth her silver lining on the night ? ^ / 
 I did not err : there does a sable cloud 
 Turn forth her silver lining on the night,/ / *^ ' 
 And casts a gleam over this tufted groveT 
 I cannot hallo to my brothers, but 
 Such noise as I can make to be heard farthest 
 I'll venture ; for my new-enlivened spirits 
 Prompt me, and they perhaps are not fur off. 
 
36 GOMUS 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Sweet Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv'st unseen 230 
 Within thy airy shell 
 By slow Meander's margent green. 
 And in the violet-embroidered vale 
 Where the lovelorn nightingale 
 Nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well : 
 Canst thou not tell me of a gentle pair 
 That likest thy Narcissus are ? 
 
 0, if thou have 
 Hid them in some flowery cave, 
 
 Tell me but where, 340 
 
 Sweet Queen of Parley, Daughter of the Sphere ! 
 So may'st thou be translated to the skies. 
 And give resounding grace to all heaven's harmonies ! 
 
 Comus. Can any mortal mixture of earth's mold 
 Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment ? 
 Sure something holy lodges in that breast, 
 And with these raptures moves the vocal air 
 To testify his hidden residence. 
 How sweetly did they float upon the wings 
 Of silence, through the empty-vaulted night, 350 
 
 At every fall smoothing the raven down 
 Of darkness till it smiled I I have oft heard 
 My mother Circe, with the Sirens three, 
 Amidst the flowery-kirtled Naiades, 
 Culling their potent herbs an^ baleful drugs, 
 Who, as they sung, would take the prisoned soul, 
 And lap it in Elysium : Scylla wept. 
 And chid her barking waves into attention. 
 And fell Charybdis murmured soft applause. 
 Yet they in pleasing slumber lulled the sense, 360 
 And in sweet madness robbed it of itself ; 
 But such a sacred and home-felt delight. 
 Such sober certainty of waking bliss. 
 
COM us 37 
 
 I never heard till now. I'll speak to her, 
 
 And she shall be my queen. — Hail, foreign wonder ! 
 
 Whom certain these rough shades did never breed. 
 
 Unless the goddess that in rural shrine 
 
 Dvvell'st here with Pan or Sylvan, by blest song 
 
 Forbidding every bleak unkindly fog 
 
 To touch the prosperous growth of this tall wood. 270 
 
 Lddy. Nay, gentle shepherd, ill is lost that praise 
 That is addressed to unattending ears. 
 Not any boast of skill, but extreme shift 
 How to regain my severed company. 
 Compelled me to awake the courteous Echo 
 To give me answer from her mossy couch. 
 
 (Jomus. AVhat chance, good Lady, hath bereft you thus ? 
 
 Lady. Dim darkness and this leavy labyrinth. 
 
 Comus. Could that divide you from near-ushering 
 guides ? 
 
 Lady. They left me weary on a grassy turf. 280 
 
 Comus. By falsehood, or discourtesy, or why ? 
 
 Lady. To seek i' the valley some cool friendly spring. 
 
 Comus. And left your fair side all unguarded, Lady ? 
 
 Lady. They were but twain, and purposed quick re- 
 turn. 
 
 Comus. Perhaps forestalling night prevented them. 
 
 Lady. How easy my misfortune is to hit I 
 
 Comus. Imports their loss^ beside the present need ? 
 
 Jjady. No less than if I should my brothers lose. 
 
 Comus. Were they of manly prime, or youthful bloom ? 
 
 Lady. As smooth as Hebe's their unrazored lips. 2'JO 
 
 Comus. Two such I saw, what time the labored ox 
 In his loose traces from the furrow came. 
 And the swinked hedger at his supper sat. 
 I saw them under a green mantling vine, 
 That crawls along the side of yon small hill, 
 Plucking ripe clusters from the tender shoots ; 
 Their port was more than human, as they stood. 
 1 took it for a faery vision 
 
38 COMUa 
 
 Of same gay creatures of tlie element, 
 
 That in the colors of the rainbow live, 
 
 And play i' the plighted clouds. I was awe-strook. 
 
 And, as I passed, I worshipped. If those you seek, 
 
 It were a journey like the path to heaven 
 
 To help you find them. 
 
 Lady. Gentle villager. 
 
 What readiest way would bring me to that place ? 
 
 Comus. Due west it rises from this shrubby point. 
 
 Lady. To find out that, good shepherd, I suppose. 
 In such a scant allowance of starlight, 
 AVould overtask the best land-pilot's art, 
 AVithout the sure guess of well-j)ractised feet. 310 
 
 Comus. I know each lane, and every alley green. 
 Dingle, or bushy dell, of this wild wood, 
 r\ And every bosky bourn from side to side, 
 * My daily walks and ancient neighborhood ; 
 And, if your stray attendance be yet lodged. 
 Or shroud within these limits, I shall know 
 Ere morrow wake, or the low-roosted lark 
 From her thatched pallet rouse. If otherwise, 
 I can conduct you. Lady, to a low 
 But loyal cottage, where you may be safe 320 
 
 Till further quest. 
 
 Lady. Shepherd, I take thy Avord, 
 
 And trust thy honest-offered courtesy. 
 Which oft is sooner found in lowly sheds. 
 With smoky rafters, than in tapestry halls 
 And courts of princes, Avhere it first was named. 
 And yet is most pretended. In a place 
 Less warranted than this, or less secure, 
 I cannot be, that I should fear to change it. 
 Eye me, blest Providence, and square my trial 
 To my proportioned strength I — Shepherd, lead on. 330 
 
 \_Exeunt. 
 
C0MU8 39 
 
 Enter the Two Brotheks. 
 
 Elder Brother. Unmnffle, ye faint stars ; and 
 thou, fair moon, 
 That wont'st to love the traveller's benison. 
 Stoop thy pale visage through an amber cloud. 
 And disinherit Chaos, that reigns here 
 In double night of darkness and of shades ; 
 Or, if your influence be quite dammed up 
 With black usurping mists, some gentle taper, 
 Though a rush candle from the wicker hole 
 Of some clay habitation, visit us 
 
 With thy long levelled rule of streaming light, 340 
 And thou shalt be our star of Arcady, 
 Or Tyrian Cynosure. '. y ^^-vv^ 
 
 Second Brother. Or, if our eyes ^ 
 Be barred that happiness, might we but hear 
 The folded flocks, penned in their wattled cotes. 
 Or sound of pastoral reed with oaten stops, \ 
 Or whistle from the lodge, or village cock 
 Count the night-watches to his feathery dames, 
 'Twould be some solace yet, some little cheering. 
 In this close dungeon of innumerous boughs. 
 But, oh, that hapless virgin, our lost sister ! 350 
 
 AVhere may she wander now, whither betake her 
 From the chill dew, amongst rude burs and thistles ? 
 Perhaps some cold bank is her bolster now, 
 Or 'gainst the rugged bark of some broad elm 
 Leans her unpillowed head, fraught with sad fears. 
 What if in wild amazement and affright. 
 Or, while we speak, within the direful grasp 
 Of savage hunger, or of savage heat ! 
 
 Elder Brother. Peace, brother : be not over-ex- 
 quisite 
 To^asljthe fashion of uncertain evils ; 360 
 
 For, grant they be so, while they rest unknown, 
 
40 COMUS 
 
 AVhat need a man forestall his date of grief, 
 
 And run to meet what he would most avoid ? 
 
 Or, if they be but false alarms of fear. 
 
 How bitter is such self-delusion I 
 
 I do not think my sister so to seek, 
 
 Or so unprincipled in virtue's book, 
 
 And the sweet peace that goodness bosoms ever, 
 
 As that the sjngle want of light and noise 
 
 (Not being in danger, as I trust she is not) 370 
 
 Could stir the constant mood of her calm thoughts, 
 
 And put them into misbecoming plight. 
 
 Virtue could see to do what Virtue would 
 
 By her own radiant light, though sun and moon 
 
 Were in the flat sea sunk. And AVisdom's self 
 
 Oft seeks to sweet retired solitude. 
 
 Where, Avitli her best nurse, Contem})lation. 
 
 !She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings, 
 
 That, in the vsirious bustle of re^rt, 
 
 AYere all to-ruffled, and sometimes impaired. 380 
 
 He that has liglit within his own clear breast 
 
 May sit i' the centre, and enjoy bright day : 
 
 But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts 
 
 Benighted walks under the midday sun ; 
 
 Himself is his own dungeon. 
 
 Second Brother. 'Tis most true 
 
 That musing Meditation most affects 
 The pensive secrecy of desert cell, 
 .Far from the cheerful lumnt of men and herds. 
 And sits as safe as in a senate-house ; 
 For who would rob a hermit of his weeds, 390 
 
 His few books, or his beads, or maple dish, 
 Or do his gray hairs any violence ? 
 But Beauty, like the fair Hesperian tree 
 Laden with blooming gold, had need the guard 
 Of dragon watch with uuenchanted eye 
 To save her blossoms, and defend her fruit. 
 From the rash hand of bold Incontinence. 
 
COMUS 41 
 
 You may as well spread out the unsunned heaps 
 
 Of miser's treasure by an outlaw's den, 
 
 And tell me it is safe, as bid me hope 400 
 
 Danger will wink on Opportunity, 
 
 And let a single, helpless maiden pass 
 
 Uninjured in this wild surrounding waste. 
 
 Of night or loneliness it^recks me npt ; 
 
 I fear the dread events that dog them both. 
 
 Lest some ill-greeting touch attempt the person 
 
 Of our un owne d sister. 
 
 Elder Brother. I do not, brother, 
 
 Infer as if I thought my sister's state 
 Secure without all doubt or controversy ; 
 Yet, where an equal poise of hope and fear 410 
 
 Does arbitrate the event, my nature is 
 That I incline to hope rather than fear, 
 And gladly banish squint suspicion. 
 My sister is not so defenseless left 
 As you imagine ; she has a hidden strength, 
 Which you remember not. 
 
 Second Brother. What hidden strength, 
 
 Unless the strength of Heaven, if you mean that ? 
 
 Elder Brother. I mean that too, but yet a hidden 
 strength. 
 Which, if Heaven gave it, may be termed her own. 
 'Tis chastity, my brother, chastity : 420 
 
 She that has that is clad in complete steel. 
 And, like a quivered nymph with arrows keen, 
 May trace huge forests, and unharbored heaths. 
 Infamous hills, and sandy perilous wilds ; 
 Where, through the sacred rays of chastity, 
 Xo savage fierce, bandite. or mountaineer, 
 Will dare to soil her virgin purity. 
 Yea, there where very desolation dwells. 
 
 By grots and caverns shagged with horrid shades, <" ■' ^ ^ Y^ 
 She may pass on with unblenched majesty, 430 
 
 Be it not done iji pride, or in presumption. 
 
42 COML'ti 
 
 Some say no evil tiling that walks by night. 
 
 In fog or fire, by lake or moorish fen. 
 
 Blue meagre hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost 
 
 That breaks his magic chains at curfew time, 
 
 No goblin or sw^rt faery of tlie mine,^ llV^*'^^ 
 
 Hath hurtful power o'er true virginity. ' 
 
 Do ye believe me yet, or shall I call 
 
 Antiquity from the old schools of Greece 
 
 To testify the arms of chastity ? 440 
 
 Hence had the huntress Dian her dread bow. 
 
 Fair silver-shafted queen, forever chaste. 
 
 Wherewith she tamed the briuded lioness 
 
 And spotted mountain pard, but set at naught 
 
 The frivolous bolt of Cupid ; gods and men 
 
 Feared her stern frown, and she was queen o' the woods. 
 
 AVhat was that snaky-headed Gorgon shield 
 
 That wise Minerva wore, unconquered virgin, 
 
 Wherewith she freezed her foes to congealed stone. 
 
 But rigid looks of chaste austerity, 450 
 
 And noble grace that dashed brute violence 
 
 With sudden adoration and blank awe ? 
 
 So dear to Heaven is saintly chastity 
 
 That, when a soul is found sincerely so, 
 
 A thousand liveried angels lackey her, 
 
 Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt. 
 
 And in clear dream and solemn vision 
 
 Tell her of things that no gross ear can hear ; 
 
 Till oft converse with heavenly habitants 
 
 Begin to cast a beam on the outward shape, 460 
 
 The unpolluted temple of the mind. 
 
 And turns it by degrees to the soul's essence. 
 
 Till all be made immortal. But, when lust. 
 
 By unchaste looks, loose gestures, and foul talk. 
 
 But most by lewd and lavish act of sin. 
 
 Lets in defilement to the inward parts, 
 
 The soul grows clotted by contagion, 
 
 Imbodies, and imbrutes, till she quite lose 
 
COMUS 43 
 
 The divine property of her first being. 
 
 Such are those thick and gloomy shadows damp 470 
 
 Oft seen in charnel-vaults and sepulchres. 
 
 Lingering and sitting by a new-made grave, 
 
 As loth to leave the body that it loved, 
 
 And linked itself by carnal sensuality 
 
 To a degenerate and degraded state. 
 
 Second Brother. How charming is divine Philosophy I 
 Not harsh and crabbed, as dull fools suppose. 
 But musical as is Apollo's lute, 
 And a perpetual feast of nectared sweets. 
 Where no crude surfeit reigns. 
 
 Elder Broth or. List ! list ! I hear 480 
 
 Some far-off hallo break the silent air. 
 
 Second Brother. Methought so too ; what should 
 it be ? 
 
 Elder Brother. For certain. 
 
 Either some one, like us, night-foundered here ; 
 Or else some neighbor woodman, or. at worst, 
 Some roving robber calling to his fellows. 
 
 Second Brother. Heaven keep my sister ! Again, 
 again, and near ! 
 Best draw, and stand upon our guard. 
 
 Elder Brother. I'll hallo. 
 
 If he be friendly, he comes well : if not. 
 Defense is a good cause, and Heaven be for us ! 
 
 Enter the Attexdant Spirit, habited like a shepherd. 
 
 That hallo I should know. What are you ? speak. 41)0 
 Come not too near ; you fall on iron stakes else. 
 Spirit. What voice is that ? my young Lord ? speak 
 
 again. 
 Second Brother. brother, 'tis my father's shep- 
 herd, sure. 
 Elder Brother. 'Phyrsis ! whose artful strains have 
 oft delayed 
 
44 
 
 CO\fUS 
 
 U- 
 
 The huddling brook to hear his madrigal, 
 
 And sweetened every musk rose of the dale. 
 
 How cam'st thou here, good swain ? Hath any ram 
 
 Slipped from the fold, or young kid lost his dam, 
 
 Or straggling wether the pent flock forsook ? 
 
 How couldst thou find this dark sequestered nook ? 50C 
 
 Spirit. my loved master's heir, and his next joy, 
 I came not here on such a trival toy 
 As a strayed ewe, or to pursue the stealth 
 Of pilfering wolf ; not all the fleecy wealth 
 That doth enrich these downs is worth a thought 
 To this my errand, and the care it brought. 
 But, oh ! my virgin Lady, where is she ? 
 How chance she is not in your company ? 
 
 Elder Brother. To tell thee sadly, Shepherd, with- 
 out blame 
 Or our neglect, we lost her as we came. 510 
 
 Spirit. Ay me unhappy ! then my fears are true. 
 
 Elder Brother. What fears, good Thyrsis ? Prithee 
 briefly shew. 
 
 Spirit. I'll tell ye. 'Tis not vain or fabulous 
 (Though so esteemed by shallow ignorance) 
 What tlie sage poets, tauglit by the hea venly Muse , 
 Storied of old in high immortal verse 
 Of dire Chimeras and enchanted isles. 
 And rifted rocks whose entrance leads to hell ; 
 For such there be, but unbelief is blind. 
 
 Within the navel of this hideous wood, 520 
 
 Immured in cypress shades, a sorcerer dwells, 
 Of Bacchus and of Circe born, great Comus, 
 Deep skilled in all liis mother's witcheries, 
 And here to every thirsty wanderer 
 By sly enticement gives his baneful cup, 
 With many murmurs mixed, whose pleasing poison 
 Tlie visage quite transforms of him that drinks, 
 And the inglorious likeness of a beast 
 Fixes instead, unmolding reason's mintage 
 
COMUS 45 
 
 Charactered in the face. This have I learnt 530 
 
 Tending my flocks hard by i' the hilly crofts 
 
 That brow this bottom glade ; whence night by night 
 
 He and his monstrous rout are heard to howl 
 
 Like stabled wolves, or tigers at their prey. 
 
 Doing abhorred rites to Hecate 
 
 In their obscured haunts of inmost bowers. 
 
 Yet have they many baits and guileful spells 
 
 To inveigle and invite the unwary sense 
 
 Of them that pass imweeting by the way. 
 
 This evening late, by then the chewing flocks 540 
 
 Had ta'en their supper on the savory herb 
 
 Of knot-grass dew-besprent, and were in fold, 
 
 I sat me down to watch upon a bank 
 
 With ivy canopied, and interwove 
 
 With flaunting honeysuckle, and began, 
 
 Wrapt in a pleasing fit of melancholy. 
 
 To meditate my rural minstrelsy. 
 
 Till fancy had her fill. But ere a close 
 
 The wonted roar was up amidst the woods. 
 
 And filled the air with barbarous dissonance ; 550 
 
 At which I ceased, and listened them awhile, 
 
 Till an unusual stop of sudden silence 
 
 Gave respite to the drowsy frighted steeds 
 
 That draw the litter of close-curtained Sleep. 
 
 At last a soft and solemn-breathing sound 
 
 Rose like a steam of rich distilled perfumes. 
 
 And stole upon the air, that even Silence 
 
 W^as took ere she was ware, and wished she might 
 
 Deny her nature, and be never more, 
 
 Still to be so displaced. I was all ear, 560 
 
 And took in strains that might create a soul 
 
 Under the ribs of Death. But, oh ! ere long 
 
 Too well I did perceive it was the voice 
 
 Of my most honored Lady, your dear sister. 
 
 Amazed I stood, harrowed with grief and fear ; 
 
 And " poor hapless nightingale," thought I, 
 
46 C0MU8 
 
 '' How sweet thou sing'st, how near the deadly snaro ! " 
 
 Then down the lawns I ran with headlong haste. 
 
 Through paths and turnings often trod by day, 
 
 Till, guided by mine ear, I found the place oTO 
 
 Where that damned wizard, hid in sly disguise 
 
 (For so by certain signs I knew), had met 
 
 Already, ere my best speed could prevent. 
 
 The aidless innocent Lady, his wished prey ; 
 
 Who gently asked if he had seen such two. 
 
 Supposing him some neighbor villager. 
 
 Longer I durst not stay, but soon I guessed 
 
 Ye were the two she meant ; with that I si)rung 
 
 Into swift flight, till I had found you here ; 
 
 But further know I not. 
 
 Second Brother. night and shades, 580 
 
 How are ye joined with hell in triple knot 
 Against the unarmed weakness of one virgin. 
 Alone and helpless ! Is this the confidence 
 You gave me, brother ? 
 
 Elder Brother. Yes, and keep it still ; 
 
 Lean on it safely ; not a period 
 Shall be unsaid for me. Against the threats 
 Of malice or of sorcery, or that power 
 Which erring men call Chance, this I hold firm : 
 Virtue may be assailed, but never hurt ; 
 Surprised by unjust force, but not enthralled ; 590 
 Yea, even that which Mischief meant most harm 
 Shall in the happy trial prove most glory. 
 But evil on itself shall back recoil. 
 And mix no more with goodness, when at last. 
 Gathered like scum, and settled to itself, 
 It shall be in eternal restless change 
 Self-fed and self-consumed. If this fail. 
 The pillared firmament is rottenness. 
 And earth's base built on stubble. But come, let's on ! 
 Against the opposing will and arm of Heaven GOO 
 
 May never this just swovd be lifted u}) ; 
 
COM us 47 
 
 But, for that damned magician, let him be girt 
 With all the grisly legions that troop 
 Under the sooty flag of Acheron, 
 Harpies and Hydras, or all the monstrous forms 
 'Twixt Africa and Ind, FU find him out, 
 And force him to return his jjurchase back. 
 Or drag him by the curls to a foul death, 
 Cursed as his life. 
 
 Spirit. Alas ! good venturous youth, 
 
 I love thy courage yet, and bold em2)rise ; (HO 
 
 But here thy sword can do thee little stead. 
 Far other arms and other weapons must 
 Be those that quell the might of hellish charms. 
 He with his bare wand can untliread thy joints, 
 And crumble all thy sinews. 
 
 Elder Brother. Why, prithee, Shei)herd, 
 
 How durst thou then thyself approach so near 
 As to make this relation ? 
 
 Spirit. Care and utmost shifts 
 
 How to secure the Lady from surprisal 
 Brought to my mind a certain Shepherd Lad, 
 Of small regard to see to, yet well skilled 020 
 
 In every virtuous plant and healing herb 
 That spreads her verdant leaf to the morning ray. 
 He loved me well, and oft would beg me sing ; 
 Which when I did, he on the tender grass 
 Would sit, and hearken even to ecstasy. 
 And in requital ope his leathern scrip. 
 And show me shnpLes of a thousand names, 
 Telling their strange and vigorous faculties. 
 Amongst the rest a small unsightly root. 
 But of divine effect, he culled me out. 630 
 
 The leaf was darkish, and had prickles on it. 
 But in another country, as he said. 
 Bore a bright golden flower, but not in this soil : 
 Unknown, and like esteemed, and the dull swain 
 Treads on it daily with his clouted shoon ; 
 
48 COMUS 
 
 And yet more med'cinal is it than that Moly 
 
 That Hermes once to wise Ulysses gave. 
 
 He called it Hsemony, and gave it me. 
 
 And bade me keep it as of sovran use 
 
 'Gainst all enchantments, mildew blast, or damp, 640 
 
 Or ghastly Furies' apparition. 
 
 I pursed it up, but little reckoning made. 
 
 Till now that this extremity comjDelled. 
 
 But now I find it true ; for by this means 
 
 I knew the foul enchanter, though disguised, 
 
 Entered the very lime-twigs of his spells. 
 
 And yet came off. If you have this about you 
 
 (As I will give you when we go) you may 
 
 Boldly assault the iiecromancer's hall ; 
 
 Where if he be, with dauntless hardihood 650 
 
 And brandished blade rush on him ; break his glass, 
 
 And shed the luscious liquor on the ground ; 
 
 But seize his wand. Though he and his curst crew 
 
 Fierce sign of battle make, and menace high, 
 
 Or, like the sons of Yulcan, vomit smoke. 
 
 Yet will they soon retire, if he but shrink. 
 
 Elder Brother. Thyrsis, lead on apace ; I'll follow 
 thee ; 
 And some good angel bear a shield before us ! 
 
 TJie Scene changes to a stately palace, set out with all man- 
 ner of delicious7iess : soft music, tables spread with all 
 dainties. Comus appears with his rabble, and the Lady 
 set in an enchanted chair : to whom he offers his gla^y( ; 
 which she puts by, and goes about to rise. 
 
 Comus. Nay, Lady, sit. If I but wave this wand, 
 Your nerves are all chained up in alabaster, 660 
 
 And you a statue, or as Daphne was. 
 Root-bound, that fled Apollo. 
 
 Lady. Fool, do not boast. 
 
 Thou canst not touch the freedom of my mind 
 
G0MU8 40 
 
 AVith all thy charms, although this corporal rind 
 Thou hast immanacled while Heaven sees good. 
 
 Comus. Why are yon vexed. Lady ? why do you 
 frown ? 
 Here dwell no frowns, nor anger ; from these gates 
 Sorrow flies far. See, here be all the pleasures 
 That fancy can beget on youthful thoughts. 
 When the fresh blood grows lively, and returns 670 
 Brisk as the April buds in primrose season. 
 And first behold this cordial julep here, 
 That flames and dances in his crystal bounds. 
 With spirits of balm and fragrant syrups mixed. 
 Not that Nepenthes which the wife of Thone 
 In Egypt gave to Jove-born Helena, 
 Is of such power to stir up joy as this. 
 To life so friendly, or so cool to thirst. 
 Why should you be so cruel to yourself, 
 And to those dainty limbs, which Nature lent 680 
 For gentle usage and soft delicacy ? 
 But you invert the covenants of her trust. 
 And harshly deal, like an ill borrower. 
 With that which you received on other terms, 
 Scorning the unexempt condition 
 By which all mortal frailty must subsist, 
 Eefreshment after toil, ease after pain, 
 That have been tired all day without repast. 
 And timely rest have wanted. But, fair Virgin, 
 This will restore all soon. 
 
 Lady. 'Twill not, false traitor ! 690 
 
 'Twill not restore the truth and honesty 
 That thou hast banished from thy tongue with lies. 
 Was this the cottage and the safe abode 
 Thou told'st me of ? What grim aspects are these. 
 These oughly-headed monsters ? Mercy guard me ! 
 Hence with thy brewed enchantments, foul deceiver ! 
 Hast thou betrayed my credulous innocence 
 With vizored falsehood and base forgery ? 
 4 
 
60 COMUS 
 
 And would'st thou seek again to trap me here 
 
 With liquorish baits, fit to insnare a brute ? TOO 
 
 Were it a draft for Juno when she banquets, 
 
 I would not taste thy treasonous offer. None 
 
 But such as are good men can give good things ; 
 
 And that which is not good is not delicious 
 
 To a well-governed and wise appetite. 
 
 Comns. foolishness of men ! that lend their ears 
 To those budge doctors of the Stoic fur. 
 And fetcirtheir precepts from the Cynic tub, > • , 
 Praising the lean and sallow Abstinence ! 
 Wherefore did Nature pour her bounties forth ■ .710 
 With such a full and unwithdrawing hand, 
 Covering the earth with odors, fruits, and flocks. 
 Thronging the seas with spawn innumerable, 
 But all to please and sate the curious taste ? p-b' , 
 And set to work millions of spinning worms, ' ' ^ 
 That in their green shops weave the smooth-haired silk, ' 
 To deck her sons ; and. that no corner might 
 Be vacant of her plenty, in her own loins 
 She hutched the all-worsliipped ore and precious gems, , 
 To store her children with. If all the world 720 
 
 Should, in a pet of temperance, feed on pulse. 
 Drink the clear stream, and notliing wear but frieze, 
 Tlie All-giver would be unthanked, would be un- 
 
 praised. 
 Not half his riches known, and yet despised ; 
 And we should serve him as a grudging master, 
 As a penurious niggard of his wealth, 
 And live like Nature's bastards, not her sons, 
 Who would be quite surcharged with her own weight, 
 And strangled with her waste fertility : 
 The earth cumbered, and the winged air darked with 
 plumes, ;;jU 
 
 The herds would overmultitude their lords ; 
 The sea o'erfraught would swell, and the unsought 
 
 diamonds 
 
COMUS 51 
 
 Would so emblaze the forehead of the deep, 
 And so bestud with stars, that they below 
 AVonld grow inured to light, and come at last 
 To gaze upon the sun with shameless brows. 
 List, Lady ; be not coy, and be not cozened 
 With that same vaunted name. Virginity. 
 Beauty is Nature's coin ; must not be hoarded. 
 But must be current ; and the good thereof 740 
 
 Consists in mutual and partaken bliss. 
 Unsavory in the enjoyment of itself. 
 If you let slip time, like a neglected rose 
 It withers on the stalk Avitli languished head. 
 Beauty is Nature's brag, and must be shown 
 In courts, at feasts, and high solemnities, 
 Where most may wonder at the workmanship. 
 It is for homely features to keep home ; 
 They had their name thence : coarse complexidns 
 And cheeks of sorry grain will serve to ply 750 
 
 The sampler, and to tease the huswife's wool. 
 What need a vermeil-tinctured lip for that. 
 Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the morn ? 
 There was another meaning in these gifts ; 
 Think what, and be advised ; you are but young yet. 
 Lady. I had not thought to have unlocked my lips 
 In this unhallowed air, but that this juggler 
 Would think to charm my judgment, as mine eyes. 
 Obtruding false rules pranked in reason's garb. 
 I hate when Vice can bolt her arguments 760 
 
 And Virtue has no tongue to check her pride. 
 Impostor ! do not charge most innocent Nature, 
 As if she would her children should be riotous 
 With her abundance. She, good cateress. 
 Means her provision only to the good. 
 That live according to her sober laws, 
 And holy dictate of spare Temperance. 
 If every just man that now pines with want 
 Had but a moderate and beseeming share 
 
gf G0MU8 
 
 Of that which lewdly-pampered Luxury 770 
 
 Now heaps upon some few with vast excess, 
 
 Nature's full blessings would be well dispensed 
 
 In unsuperfiuous even proportion, 
 
 And she no whit encumbered with her store ; 
 
 And then the G-iver would be better thanked. 
 
 His praise due paid : for swinish Gluttony 
 
 Ne'er looks to Heaven amidst his gorgeous feast, 
 
 But with besotted base ingratitude 
 
 Crams, and blasphemes his Feeder. Shall I go on ? 
 
 Or have I said enow ? To him that dares 780 
 
 Arm his profane tongue with contemptuous words 
 
 Against the sun-clad power of chastity. 
 
 Fain would I something say ; — yet to what end ? 
 
 Thou hast nor ear, nor soul, to apprehend 
 
 The sublime notion and high mystery 
 
 That must be uttered to unfold the sage 
 
 And serious doctrine of Virginity ; 
 
 And thou art worthy that thou shouldst not know 
 
 More happiness than this thy present lot. 
 
 Enjoy your dear wit, and gay rhetoric, 790 
 
 That hath so well been taught her dazzling fence ; 
 
 Thou art not fit to hear thyself convinced. 
 
 Yet, should I try, the uncontrolled worth 
 
 Of this pure cause would kindle my rapt spirits 
 
 To such a flame of sacred vehemence 
 
 That dumb things would be moved to sympathize, 
 
 And the brute Earth would lend her nerves, and shake. 
 
 Till all thy magic structures, reared so high. 
 
 Were shattered into heaps o'er thy false head. 
 
 Comus. She fables not. I feel that I do fear 800 
 Her words set off by some superior power ; 
 And, though not mortal, yet a cold shuddering dew 
 Dips me all o'er, as when the wrath of Jove 
 Speaks thunder and the chains of Erebus 
 To some of Saturn's crew. I must dissemble. 
 And try her yet more strongly. — Come, no more I 
 
COMUS 53 
 
 This is mere moral babble, and direct 
 
 Against the canou laws of our foundation. 
 
 I must not suffer this ; yet 'tis but the lees 
 
 And settlings of a melancholy blood. 810 
 
 But this will cure all straight ; one sip of this 
 
 Will bathe the drooping spirits in delight 
 
 Beyond the bliss of dreams. Be wise, and taste. 
 
 Tlie Brothers rush in with sioords clraiun, ivrest his glass 
 out of his hand, and breah it against the ground: his 
 rout make sign of resistance, but are all driven in. The 
 Attendant Spirit comes in. 
 
 Spirit. What ! have you let the false enchanter scape ? 
 Oh, ye mistook ; ye should have snatched his wand. 
 And bound him fast. Without his rod reversed, 
 And backward mutters of dissevering power. 
 We cannot free the Lady that sits here 
 In stony fetters fixed and motionless. 
 Yet stay : be not disturbed ; now I bethink me, 820 
 Some other means I have which may be used. 
 Which once of Meliboeus old I learnt, 
 The^ soothgs t Shepherirthat e'er piped on plains. 
 
 There is a gentle Nymph not far from hence, 
 That with moist curb sways the smooth Severn stream : 
 Sabrina is her name : a Virgin pure ; 
 Whilom she was the daughter of Lpcrine, 
 That had the sceptre from his father Brute. 
 She, guiltless damsel, flying the mad pursuit 
 Of her enraged stepdame, Guendolen, 830 
 
 Commended her fair innocence to the flood 
 That stayed her flight with his crossflowing course. 
 The water-nymphs, that in the bottom played, 
 Held up their pearled wrists, and took her in, 
 Bearing her straight to aged Nereus' hall ; 
 Who, piteous of her woes, reared her lank head, 
 And gave her to his daughters to imbathe 
 
54 COMUS 
 
 In nectared lavers strewed with asphodel. 
 
 And through the porch and inlet of each sense 
 
 Dropt in ambrosial oils, till she revived, 840 
 
 And underwent a quick immortal change. 
 
 Made Goddess of the river. Still she retains 
 
 Her maiden gentleness, and oft at eve 
 
 Visits the herds along the twilight meadows. 
 
 Helping all urchin blasts, and ill-luck signs 
 
 That the slirewd meddling elf delights to make, 
 
 Which she with precious vialed liquors heals : 
 
 For which the shepherds, at their festivals, 
 
 Carol her goodness loud in rustic lays, 
 
 And throw sweet garland wreaths into her stream, 850 
 
 Of pansies, jiinks, and gaudy daffodils ; 
 
 And, as the old Swain said, she can unlock 
 
 The clasping charm, and thaw the numbing spell. 
 
 If she be right invoked in warbled song ; 
 
 For maidenhood she loves, and will be swift 
 
 To aid a Virgin, such as was herself. 
 
 In hard-besetting need. This will I try. 
 
 And add the power of some adjuring verse. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Sabrina fair, 
 
 Listen where thou art sitting 860 
 
 Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave, 
 
 In twisted braids of lilies knitting 
 The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair ; 
 
 Listen for dear honor's sake. 
 
 Goddess of the silver lake, 
 Listen and save ! 
 
 Listen, and appear to us. 
 
 In name of great Oceanus, 
 
 By the earth-shaking Neptune's mace. 
 
 And Tethys' grave majestic pace ; 870 
 
 By hoary Nereus' wrinkled look. 
 
aOMVS ij5 
 
 And the Carpathian wizard's hook ; jL^ Ci 
 
 By scaly 'ri-iton's winding shell, A a^"'^'"^"^ 
 
 And old soothsaying Glaueus' spell ; liAy^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 By Leucothea's lovely hands, li"-^^^^''^'^ 
 
 And her son that rules the strands ; ^-vJ^ 
 
 By Thetis' tinsel-slippered feet, 
 And the songs of Sirens sweet ; ( 
 
 By dead Parthenope's dear tomb, 
 And fair Ligea's golden comb, 880 
 
 WherewitTi she sits on diamond rocks 
 Sleeking her soft alluring locks ; 
 By all the Nymphs that nightly dance 
 Upon thy streams with wily glance ; 
 Rise, rise, and heave thy rosy head 
 From thy coral-paven bed, 
 And bridle in thy headlong wave. 
 Till thou our summons answered have. 
 Listen and save ! 
 
 SAiiiUN'A riftes. attended by Water-nymphs, and migs. 
 
 By the rushy-fringed bank, 890 
 
 Where grows the willow and the osier dank. 
 
 My sliding chariot stays. 
 Thick set with agate, and the azurn sheen 
 Of turkis blue, and emerald green. 
 
 That in the channel strays ; 
 Whilst from off the waters fleet 
 Thus I set my printless feet 
 O'er the cowslip's velvet head. 
 
 That bends not as I tread. 
 Gentle Swain, at thy request 900 
 
 I am here ! 
 
 Spirit. Goddess dear. 
 We implore thy powerful hand 
 To undo the charmed band 
 
56 GOMUS 
 
 Of true Virgin here distressed 
 Through the force and through the wile 
 Of unblessed enchanter vile. 
 
 Sairina. Shepherd, 'tis my oflBce best 
 To help ensnared chastity. 
 
 Brightest Lady, look on me. 910 
 
 Thus I sprinkle on thy breast 
 Drops that from my fountain pure 
 I have kept of precious cure ; 
 Thrice upon thy finger's tip, 
 Thrice upon thy rubied lip : 
 Next this marble venomed seat, 
 Smeared with gums of glutinous heat, 
 I touch with chaste palms moist and cold. 
 Now the spell hath lost his hold ; 
 And I must haste ere morning hour 920 
 
 To wait in A mphit rite's bower. 
 
 Sabrin'a descends, and the Lady rises out of Tier seat. 
 
 Spirit. Virgin, daughter of Locrine, 
 Sprung of old Anchises' line. 
 May thy brimmid~waves for this 
 Their full tribute never miss 
 From a thousand petty rills. 
 That tumble down the snowy hills : 
 Summer drouth or singed air 
 Never scorch thy tresses fair. 
 
 Nor wet October's torrent flood 930 
 
 Thy molten crystal fill with mud ; 
 May thy billows roll ashore 
 The beryl and the golden ore ; 
 May thy lofty head be crowned 
 With many a tower and terrace round. 
 And here and there thy banks upon 
 With groves of myrrh and cinnamon. 
 
 Come, Lady ; while Heaven lends us grace. 
 
COMUS 67 
 
 Let us fly this cursed place, 
 
 Lest the sorcerer us entice 940 
 
 With some other new device. 
 
 Not a waste or needless sound 
 
 Till Ave come to holier ground. 
 
 I shall be your faithful guide 
 
 Through this gloomy covert wide ; 
 
 And not many furlongs thence 
 
 Is your Father's residence, 
 
 Where this night are met in state 
 
 Many a friend to gratulate 
 
 His Avished presence, and beside 950 
 
 All the swains that there abide 
 
 With jigs and rural dance resort. 
 
 We shall catch them at their sport, 
 
 And our sudden coming there 
 
 W^ill double all their mirth and cheer. 
 
 Come, let us haste ; the stars grow high. 
 
 But Night sits monarch yet in the mid sky. 
 
 Tlie Scene cTianrjes, presenting Ludlow Town, and the 
 President's Castle; then come in Country Dancers; 
 after them the Attendant Spirit, with the Two Broth- 
 ers and the Lady. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Spirit. Back, Shepherds, back ! Enough your play 
 Till next sunshine holiday. 
 
 Here be, without duck or nod, 960 
 
 Other trippings to be trod 
 Of lighter toes, and such court guise 
 As Mercury did first devise 
 With the mincing Dryades 
 On the lawns and on the leas. 
 
 Hiis second Song presents them to their Father and Mother. 
 
 Noble Lord and Lady bright, 
 I have brought ye new delight. 
 
58 COMUS 
 
 Here behold so goodly grown 
 
 Three fair branches of your own. 
 
 Heaven hath timely tried their youth, 970 
 
 Their faith, their patience, and their truth, 
 
 And sent them here through hard assays 
 
 With a crown of deathless praise. 
 
 To triumph in victorious dance 
 
 O'er sensual folly and intemperance. 
 
 Till' dances ended, the Spirit ejxilogutzes. 
 
 /Spirit. To the ocean now I tiy. 
 And those happy climes that lie 
 Where day never shuts his eye. 
 Up in the broad fields of the sky. 
 There I suck the li(iuid air, 080 
 
 All amidst the gardens fair 
 Of Hesperus, and his daughters three 
 That sing about the golden tree. 
 Along the crisped shades and bowers 
 Revels the spruce and jocund Spring ; 
 The (h'aces and the rosy-bosomed Hours 
 Thither all their bounties bring. 
 There eternal Summer dwells. 
 And west winds with musky wing 
 About the cedarn alleys fling '.•'.»0 
 
 'NnxA and cassia's balmy smells, 
 ijis there with humid bow 
 Waters the odorous banks, that blow 
 Flowers of more mingled hue 
 Than her purfled scarf can shew. 
 And drenches with Elysian dcAv 
 (List, mortals, if your ears be true) 
 Jieds of hyacinth and roses. 
 Where young Adonis oft reposes, 
 W^axing well of his deep wound. 1000 
 
 In slumber soft, and on the ground 
 
COM us 50 
 
 Sadly sits the Assyrian queen. 
 But far above, in spangled sheen, 
 Celestial Cupid, her famed son, advanced 
 Holds his dear Psyche, sweet entranced 
 After her wandering labors long, 
 Till free consent the gods among 
 Make her his eternal bride, 
 And from her fair unspotted side 
 Two blissful twins are to be born, 1010 
 
 Youth and Joy ; so Jove hath sworn. 
 But now my task is smoothly done : 
 I can fly, or I can run 
 Quickly to the green earth's end. 
 Where the bowed w ^Jvjn slow doth bend. 
 And from thence can soar as soon 
 To the corners of the moon. 
 Mortals, that would follow me. 
 Love Virtue ; she alone is free. 
 She can teach ye how to climb 1020 
 
 Higher than the sphery chime ; 
 Or, if Virtue feeble were. ' 
 
 Heaven itself would stoop to her. 
 
LYCIDAS 
 
 [The external facts relating to the evolution of "Lycidas" are am- 
 ple on the whole, and easy to set forth. Among Milton's friends at 
 Christ's College had been two sons of Sir John King, long Secretary 
 for Ireland. They were admitted during his third year, Roger, the 
 elder, being sixteen and his brother Edward two years younger. 
 Nothing seems to be heard of them until four years later, when, to 
 the surprise of everyone. Edward King was chosen a fellow of the 
 college, in obedience to a royal mandate, which had doubtless been 
 obtained through considerable political influence. Such royal inter- 
 ference was not usual or palatable, and it must have been especially 
 galling to Milton, who, as a Bachelor of two years' standing and " an 
 acknowledged ornament of liis college. " to quote Professor Masson, 
 had good reason to expect that the honor would have fallen to him. 
 He seems, however, to have taken his disappointment gracefully and 
 to have shared*the general liking for his brilliant and amiable cnllege- 
 ma'e, who, thanks to the pen of a disappointed rival, now lives in our 
 memories even more freshly thau his two greater fellow-students. 
 John Cleveland, the royalist poet, and Henry More, the Platonist. 
 After Milton left Cambridge, King continued his academic career in 
 an orthodox and successful way, proceeding M.A. in 1633, and tilling 
 the offices of tutor and praelector while preparing himself for active 
 work in the Church. During the vacation of 1637, however, he 
 sailed from Chester for Ireland, where he had been born and where 
 he had relations and friends of high social standing. On the 10th of 
 August his ship struck on a rock off the Welsh coast and went down. 
 Accounts vary as to the cause of the accident, and it is not known how 
 many, if any, were saved. The memorial volume shortly to be de- 
 scribed stated that he died in the act of prayer, which would imply 
 that some of the passengers and crew escaped, but may be merely 
 a touch of imagination. 
 
 When the news of King's death was received at Cambridge, it was 
 at once felt that special steps should be taken to do honor to his mem- 
 ory, and at that time this laudable desire could be accomplished in no 
 fitter way than by collecting and publishing a volume of elegies in- 
 
LTGIDAS 61 
 
 scribed with his name. It is true that this mode of testifying to an 
 individual's worth was rather common in the seventeenth centnry, but 
 it was thoroughly academical, and afiforded an admirable opportunity 
 to don and undergraduate alike to bring before the public learned 
 effusions in Latin and Greek verse that miast else have slumbered in 
 many a dusty desk. Naturally royal personages would be most often 
 honored in this way— it made slight difference whether they died or 
 were born — but not a few other distinguished people were given this 
 extra crown of glory after their deaths. 
 
 The collection,' when it finally appeared from the university press, 
 consisted of two parts separately paged and titled, both bearing the 
 date 1638. They are sometimes found bound together, sometimes 
 apart. The first portion consisted of twenty-three poems in Greek 
 and Latin, filling thirty-six pages. Both the learned languages figured 
 in the title, which ran JuHta 31ov(irdo King naufrngo ab amicis mo-- 
 rentibu!^, nmoris et fxveias X'^P"'- oi"' ^^ Masson once translated it, " Ob- 
 sequies to Edward King, drowned by shipwreck, in token of love and 
 remembrance, by his sorrowing friends " — which is only grammati- 
 cally ambiguous. The second part consisted of thirteen English 
 poems, filling twenty-five pages, and was entitled " Obsequies to the 
 Memorie of Mr. Edward King, Anno Dom. 1038." Of the contribu- 
 tors we need note only Henry More, who naturally wrote in Greek ; 
 Henry King, Edward's brother ; Joseph Beaumont, afterwards author 
 of a curious poem called " Psyche ; " and John Cleveland, who subse- 
 quently showed his powers as an elegist when Charles I. was his sub- 
 ject, but here fell little short of the climax of absurdity. 
 
 "Lycidas" was, of course, included in Milton's 1645 edition of his 
 poems, and the short prose argument which now precedes the verses 
 was then inserted. No changes save orthographical were made in the 
 edition of 1673; the version of 1645 is, therefore, the final form its 
 author gave to his lyrical masterpiece. A comparison of the Cam- 
 bridge MS., the edition of 1638. and a copy of this edition with cor- 
 rections in Milton's handwriting still preserved in the University 
 Library at Cambridge, has enabled critics to trace the evolution of 
 certain passages of the poem, and thrown much light upon Milton's 
 
 ' Is it possiljle that the poems were submitted to Milton for revision and 
 arrangement and that he placed his own great tribute last with the simple 
 initials, J. M. y The MS. of Lyridax preserved at Cambridge is dated 
 November, 1637, but the volume did not appear until a month or two later, 
 about the beginning of 1638. As the printed version shows a few verbal 
 changes, and as the transmission of proofs would be a difficult matter at that 
 time, if Milton were at Horton, as is usually assumed, the inference seems to 
 be that he kept his verses by him for a time, which would fit in with the 
 supposition tentatively made above. 
 
62 LYCIDAS 
 
 habits of composition. Mr. Verity, after careful examiuation, states 
 that the MS. , whicli is doubtless the original draft, is full of careful 
 corrections, some of which preceded the issue of 1688, and some of 
 which were made, he is inclined to think, in 1644-45, just before 
 Humphrey Moseley published the first edition of the " Minor Poems." 
 Verse 26 of the poem is cited as an example of Milton's procedure. 
 It stood at first (?.c., in the MS., before Milton corrected it), 
 
 " Under the glimmering eyelids of the Morn." 
 
 "Glimmering" was corrected to ''opening," but in the edition of 
 1638 the first reading is found. It is clear, therefore, that the cor- 
 rection was made after the poem had been printed at Cambridge. 
 
 We are now prepared to consider Milton's contribution to the Cam- 
 bridge volume in its higher relations as a contribution to English 
 literature, or rather to the small stock of the world's supremely excel- 
 lent poetry. And, first, as to the poetical category in which it should 
 be placed. Milton himself termed it a 'monody," in which he has 
 been followed by Matthew Arnold in his " Thyrsis." Strictly speak- 
 ing, "Lycidas" is a monody save in the last eight lines, for the rest 
 of the poem is supposed to be sung by one person ; the term was also 
 proper from an historical point of view, as it had been applied to 
 funeral songs " uttered by one alone " (Puttenham, '" Art of English 
 Poesie," quoted in the " Century Dictionary "). But a division of 
 elegiac poetry that is based on the number of speakers or singers is not 
 satisfactory, and we cannot read far in "Lycidas" without discover- 
 ing that it is a pastoral poem as well as an elegy. We are therefore 
 compelled to cla.ss it as a pastoral elegy, which necessitates some ex- 
 planatory remarks with regard to the nature and hi.story of this poet- 
 ical category.' 
 
 The term " elegy " was applied in classical Greek literature to any 
 poem written in the elegiac couplet, no matter what its subject. 
 Thus tlie patriotic incitements of Solon received the name as well as 
 the tender complaints of Mimnermiis There had been, of course, 
 from the earliest times songs of grief and lamentation over the dead 
 e.g., the Linus-sont; of Homer; and after the introduction of the 
 elegy proper from Phrygia, its application to the purposes of a more 
 formal expression of sorrow did not entirely supplant tliese older threiwi 
 or dirges. It was the love-elegy, however, as it had been developed 
 by Mimnermus, rather than the political or social elegy of Solon and 
 
 ' I have derived not a little assistance here from Mr. Jerram's excellent 
 Introduction to his edition of Lijcidn.f, but I have depended mainly upon niv 
 own studies preparatory to a monosrraph on "The Elegy in English Litera- 
 ture," which I hope shortly to publish. 
 
LYCIDAS 63 
 
 Theognis, or the strict elegy of mourning that was especially affected 
 by the Alexandrian literati, when with their thin voices they tried to 
 emulate " that large utterance of the early gods " Such poets as Phil- 
 etas of Cos developed it. and passed it on to the Romans, among whom 
 it was cultivated with distinguished success by Tibullus and Proper- 
 tius. With the revival of learning it again made its' appearance, tak 
 ing, indeed, a somewhat wider scope in almost every European liter- 
 ature ; but as it was an essentially hot-house product, it made no 
 profound impression anywhere, and practically died out in the last 
 century. The song or poem of grief over the dead could not naturally 
 suffer such a fate. It lived on in the Greek Anthology, in the lyrics 
 of Horace and Catullus, and in the elegiacs of Propertius and Ovid. 
 But among the Alexandrians it had been fortunate enough to receive 
 a setting that to all intents made it a new form of art. It had co- 
 alesced with the bucolic idyls of Theocritus, and become what is tech- 
 nically known as the pastoral elegy which marks the highest point of 
 development reached in the evolution of elegiac poetry. 
 
 We cannot enter here into the vexed question of how far Theocritus 
 idealized the life of the Sicilian goat lierds that fills his little pictures. 
 Whatever the material he had to work on, we know that his art was 
 consummate, and that he practically gave the world a new form of poe- 
 try just at the time when the learned Alexandrian bards were trying to 
 iniuse life into the old forms. He used the metre that had long been 
 devoted to epic or narrative purposes, the liexameter, took his .subject 
 matter from the life that he saw around liim, and handled his mate- 
 rial in a pictorial way. So in the famous First Idyll, the prototype of 
 " Lycidas," and all other pastoral elegies, he " adopted the language of 
 pastoral lament." to quote Mr Lang, and " raised the rural dirge for 
 Daphnis," the ideal Greek shepherd, "into the realm of art." He 
 not only refined the language and thoughts of the dirge, but set it 
 in a framework of surpassing pictorial loveliness, thus fusing two poet- 
 ical genres into what may perhaps claim to be a third more beautiful 
 than either of its components The pastoral elegy was born to a glor- 
 ious immortality, but Theocritus seems to have cast only one glance 
 on the fairest child of his imagination. Bion. too, essayed but once 
 to win its favors, when he sang the dirge of Adonis ; Moschus reserved 
 his wooing to the sad moment when he was called upon to lament the 
 death of his master Bion, the " thrice desired." These three elegies 
 are not merely prototypes, but supreme examples of excellence in 
 their class. W^hen Virgil wrote his "Eclogues," two hundred years 
 later, pastoral poetry of every variety had lost much of the natural 
 simplicity and grace that had at first characterized it, but although 
 it had become an artificial form of expression, it was plainly capable 
 of doing admirable service to any master poet. Virgil, though follow 
 
64 LTCIDAS 
 
 ing closely the style of Theocritus with regard to the setting of his 
 pastorals, widened the scope of his subject matter so as to include 
 even politics, thus becoming the father of the artif.oial or allegorical 
 pastoral, which has ever since been the prevailing type. This change 
 is not to be wondered at, however, for the Seventh Idyll of Theocritus 
 (in which a Lycidas is a character) had introduced the poet himself 
 under an assumed name, and openly mentioned Philetas and other 
 poets, all of whom were as far removed from real shepherds as the 
 singers in Virgil's " Eclogues " or King and Milton in " Lycidas." 
 
 The artificial pastoral, and along with it the pastoral elegy (of which 
 Virgil had given examples in his Fifth and Tenth Eclogues), played 
 no important part in Roman literature after the death of tlie great 
 Mantuan, nor need we concern ourselves with its fortunes during the 
 Dark and Middle Ages, save to recall, with Mr. Jerram the fact that 
 the Venerable Bede was the author of a Latin eclogue on the Conflict 
 of Winter and Spring. With the revival of learning, however, bucolic 
 poetry of the artificial type came into greater favor than it had ever 
 known, for the same reason probably that had. according to Professor 
 Jebb, made compositions in the elegiac couplet so popular among the 
 Greeks— the comparative ease with which a fair success could be 
 attained in it by uninspired poets. 
 
 The modern pastoral seems to have begun in Portugal in or before 
 the fourteenth century and to have been mainly concerned with love. 
 It soon spread to Spain and thence to Italy, where during the four- 
 teenth and fifteenth centuries there had been a considerable number 
 of Latin eclogues, often dealing with politics, written by Petrarch 
 and less distinguished poets. It was not until the beginning of the 
 sixteenth century, however, that the Italian pastoral became a type of 
 composition in which all the learned and poetical world desired to ex- 
 cel. France and England caught the infection, but although there 
 are a number of early examples in tlie latter country, it was not until 
 1.580 that Spenser's "Shepherd's Calendar" broke the poetic inter- 
 regnum since Chaucer, and acclimated the pastoral in England. Spen- 
 ser's delightful eclogues, however, differed from their Italian and 
 French models in being more true to rustic life. When later the 
 same poet desired to commemorate the death of Sidney, he chose the 
 pastoral form and wrote his rather unsatisfactory " Astrophel," which 
 was yet no worse than the other pastoral elegies by different hands 
 included in the same collection. The disciples of Spenser, like 
 Phineas Fletcher and Browne, continued the pastoral tradition, and 
 we may perhaps see in this fact a reason why Milton, who always 
 admired Spenser, chose the pastoral elegy as the best mode of ex- 
 pressing regret at the death of his friend. But it is more likely that 
 he was affected by the example of the great Alexandrians, and that 
 
LYCIDAS 65 
 
 lie saw clearly that, if lie could succeed iu infusing vitalitj' of senti- 
 ment into Ills artiticial form of expression, he would achieve greater 
 artistic success than if he should choose a simple type of elegy.' We 
 are therefore led to ask whether his sentiments were vital and whether 
 he succeeded iu giving them proper utterance iu his poem. 
 
 Dr. Johnson is not the only critic who lias committed the blunder 
 of inferring tliat Milton felt no true grief at the death of King because 
 lie chose tiie pastoral form for his memorial tribute. He is the most 
 stentorian exponent of this view, however, and his thoughtless state- 
 ments that " passiou runs not after remote allusions and obscure 
 opinions, " and that " where there is leisure for fiction there is little 
 grief, " may be taken as typical of the sort of criticism that arrogates 
 to itself the possession of common sense. As far as his charge is 
 made against pastoral poetry in general, one needs only to reply, 
 tiijilo'dur ambulando. Real and unmistakable personal grief has 
 expressed itself in pastoral form in Moschuss "Elegy on Bion," in 
 Milton's own "Epitaphium Damonis," and in JIatthew Arnold's 
 "Thyrsis." The redder who can rise from a perusal of these three 
 poems, whether he knows the causes that led to their composition or 
 not, without feeling that he has been brought in contact with genuine 
 sorrow, is simply lacking in the primary elements of literary dis- 
 crimination. 
 
 Were, now, the emotions sincere that prompted Milton to write 
 " Lycidas ? " Unquestionably as sincere, I answer, as the emotions that 
 prompted Shakspere to write his "Sonnets." It is true enough that, 
 as the critics and biographers tell us, we have practically no informa- 
 tion as to Milton's relations to King except what we can gain from 
 "Lycidas" itself. King was Milton's junior and had gotten a fellow- 
 ship over the latter's head ; there could, therefore, have been little 
 intimacy between them, say the critics, and besides. Milton does not 
 mention King's death in his letters to Diodati. But one does not need 
 to be intimate with a man in order to be sincere in mourning his loss. 
 Milton knew of King well enough, and he was well aware that the 
 latter was just the sort of man that was needed for the ministry of the 
 Church. " Lycidas" itself is proof sufficient of the interest Milton 
 took in that ministry, and of the scorn he felt for its unworthy repre- 
 sentatives ; the poem is equal proof of the sincere srrief its author felt 
 for the loss of one whom he had known and admired and whom he 
 had believed destined to do a great work within the Christian fold. 
 There was, therefore, in the relations of the two men scope for per- 
 
 > We lack space to follow ont the fortunes of the English pastoral in the 
 hands of Sidney, the Fletchers, Browne, Jonson, Pope, Ramsay, Philips, 
 and Gay. 
 
 5 
 
66 LTCIDAS 
 
 sonal emotion of a high and pure Ivind, and this emotion was fused 
 by Milton's artistic skill into a poem which, after a wide course of 
 reading in the class of poetry to which it belongs. I have little hesita- 
 tion in pronouncing to be the noblest elegy in any language. The sub 
 ject may be dismissed with the remark that many readers have failed 
 to perceive Milton's sincerity of emotion partly because they are un- 
 familiar with the conventions of pastoral art, which argues lack of 
 culture, and partly because of a prejudice against artistic conventions 
 in general, which argues a lack of critical discrimination. No art 
 can ever be without its conventions, and if we will stop to analyze, 
 we shall see that the convention that represents two college students 
 as watching flocks and piping songs conflicts little more with our 
 sense of the probability and the litness of things than the convention 
 that represents a conspirator or would be murderer on the stage as 
 uttering in soliloquy his most secret thoughts to the blabbing air. 
 
 With regard to the particular poems that have been thought to 
 have influenced the poet in the composition of " Lycidas," a few re- 
 marks will be sufficient. The three Alexandrian elegies liave already 
 been mentioned, and with these may be coinbined the Fifth and 
 Tenth Eclogues of "Virgil. I cannot see that Propertius's beau 
 tiful elegy on Paetus (whose fate, by the way, had been similar to 
 that of King), or Ovid's on TibuUus, was at all in Milton's mind. 
 Critics have cited such modern pastorals as the " Alcon," of the Ital- 
 ian poet Castiglione. as having been drawn on for imagery, but I can 
 discover nothing that both poets could not easily have derived from 
 their common sources of inspiration. This seems to be true of Man.t's 
 pastoral on the death of Louise of Savoy, and of the eclogue that Spen- 
 ser modelled on it. The latter poet's " Astrophel " may have had a 
 slight stylistic influence, which is pointed out in the notes ; the as- 
 sumed influence of Ludovick Bryskett's poor pastoral on Sidney will 
 be discussed elsewhere (see note to 11. 1-14). In short, it is easy to 
 conclude that "Lycidas" is unique among modern elegies whether 
 preceding or following ; for it would be hard to trace any marked 
 influence exerted by it on " Adonais " or " Thyrsis." 
 
 But while we can easily dismiss Milton's relations to modern pas- 
 toral poets, we should say a word here about the way he treated his 
 Alexandrian masters. In the first place, he followed "Virgil in dropping 
 the refrain, although in the "Epitaphium Damonis," in which the 
 typical pastoral form is more strictly followed, he recurred to this 
 poetic artifice. Secondly, he made little or no attempt in " Lycidas' 
 to paint any of those pretty but elaborate little pictures that gave the 
 Alexandrian Idylls their name— one of which was attempted in the 
 description in the "Epitaphium Damonis" of the pocula given him 
 by his Neapolitan friend Manso. For the beautifu'. invocation to the 
 
L rein AS 67 
 
 uymphs (U. 50-62) he was indebted to Theocritus rather than to Vir- 
 gil s Tenth Eclogue ; but his substitution of British for classical 
 names was a proof at once of his patriotism and of his invariable 
 habit and power of bettering what he condescended to borrow. Un- 
 like Moschus, he saw no reason to reserve to the last tlie expression of 
 his personal sorrow, and it is needless to say that the hopelessness of 
 the Greek in the presence of death found no place in his verses. 
 
 The influence of the Alexandrian and Virgilian elegies upon partic- 
 ular images and phrases of '' Lycidas " is too apparent to require 
 much notice, especially as the matter is treated with considerable ful- 
 ness in the notes. The name Lycidas itself and those of Damoe- 
 tas, Amaryllis, and Neaera are all borrowed from these sources. 
 The references to the " hyacinth inscribed with woe, " to the grief of 
 the flowers for Lycidas's sake, to the mournful woods and caves and 
 echoes— all suggest the Alexandrian Idylls ; and Milton himself con- 
 fesses the source of much of his inspiration by his invocation of 
 " fountain Arethuse " and " smooth-sliding Mincius," and by his ex- 
 pression "Doric lay." But 'Lycidas ' h.is a beauty and passion un- 
 known to its Alexandrian models, and it has not a touch of their 
 oriental effeminacy. 
 
 The student will already have gathered that there has been much 
 difference of opinion with regard to the merits of " Lycidas." Dr. 
 Johnson wound up his curiously inept criticism by remarking : 
 "Surely no man could have fancied that he read 'Lycidas' with 
 pleasure had he nor, known the author." The cold and judicious 
 Haliam wrote on the other hand: " It has been said, I think very 
 fairly, that ' Lycidas' is a good test of real feeling for what is pecul- 
 iarly called poetry." ' Mark Pattison practically regarded " Lycidas " 
 as the greatest poem in the language Dr. Garnett dissents from this 
 view, holding that the beauties of the poem are exquisite rather than 
 magnificent, and that as an elegy it has been surpassed by " Adonais. " 
 It seems hard to justify this criticism. Both poems contain exquisite 
 passages, and both contain magnificent passages, but I know of nothing 
 in " Adonais " that is as exquisite as the flower passage in " Lycidas.'' 
 or as magnificent as the speech of St. Peter, or the picture of the 
 corpse of Lycidas washed by " the shores and sounding seas." Then 
 again, it seems plain that Milton understood better than Shelley the 
 nature of the art form in which they purposed to cast their thoughts. 
 Shelley's mind was too hazy to enable him to reproduce the pellucid 
 beauty of his Greek originals, and his personifications, though not 
 
 ' " I have been reading ('o)iins and Lycidas with wonder, and a sort of 
 awe. Tenny.son once said that Lyvidun was a toiich.stone of poetic taste." 
 Edward FitzGerald to Fanny Kemble, March 26, 1880. 
 
68 LTCIDAS 
 
 wanting in power, were far from clear-cut. This is not saying, of 
 course, that the "' Adouais " is not a great poem, or that it has not a 
 greater historic interest than '' Lycidas," and after all any literature 
 may well be proud of possessing two such elegies. 
 
 But one might continue to discuss "Lycidas" indefinitely, and a 
 halt must be called somewhere. One might expatiate upon the noble 
 movement of its *' free musical paragraphs," to borrow Professor Mas- 
 son's excellent phrase ; one might praise its subtle felicity of diction ; 
 one might point to the supreme art displayed in its evolution. It 
 would be interesting, too, to compare it with Milton's other elegiac 
 work, with the verses " On the Death of a Fair Infant," the " Epitaph 
 on the Marchioness of Winchester," etc., and to defend the thesis that 
 if Gray be our typical English elegist, Milton is unquestionably our 
 greatest. It would be pleasant to adduce more arguments in lavor of 
 Mr. Pattison's enthusiastic recognition of its merits, and to defend 
 it still more strongly from the charge of being artificial and a mere 
 " study in the pastoral style." It might even be worth while to at- 
 tempt to show, what most critics have doubted, that the speech of 
 St. Peter is not merely superb in itself but also in harmony with the 
 rest of the poem. But it is never well to overplead one's case, and 
 "Lycidas " is always with us to plead for itself. There remains 
 therefore but one thing to say. "Lycidas " and the "'Epitaphium 
 Damonis" mark a great turning point in Milton's career. In the tur- 
 moil of public and the sorrows of private life, his mighty spirit was to 
 find other and higher work to perform for the "great Taskmaster's 
 eye." That work will be .studied elsewhere ; here I have only to 
 express the hope that no student or reader will suffer himself t > be so 
 dazzled by the splendor of the poetic achievement of Milton's old age 
 (and dazzled he will be if he approach it with a mind trained in the 
 principles of sound criticism, and unaffected by the shallow and un- 
 cultured revolt against classical standards of excellence that is so rife 
 at present) as to be blind to the charm, the blended grace and power 
 that mark the noble poems of his youth that form the basis of this 
 volume. Great even to sublimity is the Milton of " Paradise Lost " 
 
 " . from the cheerful ways of men, 
 
 Cutoff;" 
 
 great, too, and matchless in charm is the Milton of "Lycidas : " 
 "With eager thought warbling his Doric lay."] 
 
pl/^ 
 
 LTCIDAS 60 
 
 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. 
 
 Yet once more, ye laurels, and once more. 
 
 Ye myrtles brown, with ivy never sere, 
 
 I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude. 
 
 And with forced fingers rude 
 
 Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year. 
 
 Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear. 
 
 Compels me to disturb your season due ; 
 
 For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his 2)rime, 
 
 Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer. 
 
 Who would not sing for Lycidas ? he knew 10 
 
 Himself to sing, and build tbe lofty rhyme. 
 
 lie must not float upon his watery bier 
 
 Unwept, and welter to the parching wind, 
 
 WithoivMrhc meed of some melodious 4ear. 
 
 Jegin then. Sisters of the sacred well "^~~^ 
 That from beneatli the seat of Jove doth spring ; 
 Begin, and somewhat loudly sweep the string. 
 Hence with denial vain and coy excuse — 
 So may some gentle Muse 
 
 With lucky words favor my destined urn, 20 
 
 And as lie passes turn, 
 -^nd bid fair peace be to my sable shroud ! 
 
 For we were nursed upon the self-same hill. 
 Fed the same flock by fountain, shade, and rill ; > ^« •. t. 
 Together both, ere the high lawns appeared 
 Under the opening eyelids of the Morn, 
 We drove a-field, and both together heard 
 What time the grayfly winds her sultry horn. 
 Battening our flocks with the fresh dews of night, 
 Oft till the star that rose at evening bright 30 
 
 Toward heaven's descent had sloped his westering wheel. 
 Meanwhile tlie rural ditties were not mute. 
 
n-T' 
 
 70 LYOIDAS 
 
 Tempered to the oaten flute ; 
 Rough Satyrs danced, and Fauns witli cloven lieel 
 From the glad sound would not be absent long ; 
 And old Damoetas loved to hear our song. 
 
 But, oh I the heavy change, now thou art gone, 
 Now thou art gone and never must return ! 
 Thee, Shepherd, thee the woods and desert caves. 
 With wild thyme and the gadding vine o'ergrown, 40 
 And all their echoes, mourn. 
 The willows, and the hazel-copses green. 
 Shall now no more be seen 
 Fanning their joyous leaves to thy soft lays. 
 As killing as the canker to the rose. 
 Or taint-worm to the weanling herds that graze. 
 Or frost to flowers, that their gay wardrobe wear, 
 When first the white-thorn blows ; 
 Such, Lycidas, thy loss to shejiherd's ear. 
 
 Where were ye. Nymphs, when the remorseless 
 deep 50 
 
 Closed o'er the head of your loved Lycidas ? 
 For neither were ye })laying on the steep. 
 Where your old bards, the famous Druids, lie. 
 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 ? 
 What could the Muse herself that Orpheus bore, 
 yrhe Muse herself, for her enchanting son, 
 AViiom universal nature did lament, GO 
 
 When, by the rout that made the hideous roar. 
 His gory visage down the stream was sent, 
 Down the swift Hebrus to the Lesbian shore ? 
 
 Alas ! what boots it with uncessant care 
 To tend the homely slighted shepherd's trade. 
 And strictly meditate the thankless Muse ? 
 Were it not better done, as others use. 
 To sport with Anuiryllis in the shade. 
 
LTCIDAS 71 
 
 Of with the tangles of Neaera's liair ? 
 
 Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise 70 
 
 (That last infirmity of noble mind) 
 
 To scorn delights and live laborious days ; 
 
 But the fair guerdoii when we hope to find, 
 
 .And think to burst out into sudden blaze, w A rr? 
 
 jOomes the blind Fury with the abhorred shears, — C?VU}|f 
 And slits the thin-spun life. "But not the praise," 
 Phoebus replied, and touched my trembling ears : 
 "■ Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil, 
 Nor in the glistering foil 
 
 Set off to the world, nor in broad rumor lies, 80 
 
 But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes 
 And perfect witness of all-judging Jove ; 
 As he pronounces lastly on each deed. 
 Of so mucli fame in Heaven expect thy meed." 
 
 O fountain Arethuse, and thou honored flood,. 
 Smooth-sliding Mincius, crowned with vocal reeds, 
 That strain I heard was of a higher mood ; 
 But now my oat proceeds. 
 And listens to the Herald of the Sea, 
 That came in Neptune's plea. 90 
 
 He asked the waves, and asked tlie felon winds. 
 What hard mishap hath doomed this gentle Swain ? 
 And questioned every gust of rugged wings 
 That blows from off each beaked promontory. 
 They knew not of his story ; r 
 
 And sage Hippotades their answer brings, - Cu:<r*--*-^ 
 T'liat not a blast was from his dungeon strayed : 
 The air was calm, and on the level brine 
 Sleek Panppe with all her sisters played. 
 It was that fatal and perfidious bark, 100 
 
 Built in the eclipse, and rigged with curses dark. 
 That sunk so low that sacred head of thine. 
 
 Next, Camus, reverend Sire, went footing slow, 
 His mantle hairy, and his bonnet sedge 
 Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge 
 
72 LYCIDAS ■ \^ 
 
 Like to that sanguine flower inscribed with woe. " \ 
 " Ah ! who hath reft/" qnoth he, ' * my dearest pledge ? " 
 .-''^ast came, and last did go, "--^^ 
 The Pilot of the Galilean Lake ; ^ ^ ^.iW 
 Two massy keys he bore of metals twain 110 
 
 (The golden opes, the iron shuts amain). ^te 
 
 He shook his mitred locks, and stern bespake : — EX 
 " How well could I have spared for thee, young Swain, 
 Enow of such as for their bellies' sake 
 Creep, and intrude, and climb into the fold ! 
 Of other care they little reckoning make 
 Than how to scramble at the shearers' feast. 
 And shove away the worthy bidden guest. 
 Blind mouths ! that scarce themselves know how to hold 
 A sheep-Tiook, or have learnt aught else the least 120 
 That to the faithful herdman's art belongs ! 
 What recks it them ? What need they ? They are sped ; 
 And, when they list, their lean and flashy songs 
 Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw : 
 The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed, 
 But, swoln with wind and the rank mist they draw. 
 Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread ; 
 Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw 
 Daily devours apace, and nothing said. 
 But that two-handed engine at the door 130 
 
 Stand^ ready to smite once, and smite no more/^,,^ 
 
 Return, Alphdus, the dread voice is past 
 That shrunk thy streams ; return, Sicilian Muse, 
 And call the vales, and bid them hither cast 
 Their bells and flowerets of a thousand hues. 
 Ye valleys low, where the mild wliispers use 
 Of shades, and wanton winds, and gushing brooks. 
 On whose fresh lap the s^gi't star sparely looks. 
 Throw hither all your quaint enamelled eyes. 
 That on the green turf suck the honeyed showers, 140 
 And purple all the ground with vernal flowers. 
 Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, 
 
 / 
 
LYCIDAS 73 
 
 The tufted crow-toe. and pale jessamine, 
 
 The white pink, and the pansy freaked with jet. 
 
 The glowing violet. 
 
 The musk-rose, and the well-attired woodbine, 
 
 «AVith cowslips wan that hang the pensive head. 
 
 And every flower that sad embroidery wears ; 
 
 Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed. 
 
 And daffadillies fill their cups with tears, 150 
 
 To strew the hiureate hearse where Lycid lies. 
 
 For so, to interpose a little ease. 
 
 Let our frail thoughts dally with false snrmise — 
 
 Ay me I whilst thee the shores and sounding seas 
 
 Wash far away — where'er thy l)ones are hurled — 
 
 Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides, 
 
 AVhere thou periiaps, under the whelming tide, 
 
 Yisit'st the bottom of the monstrous world ; 
 
 Or whether thou, to our moist vows denied, -^^ 
 
 Sleep'st by the fable of Bellerus old, 160 
 
 Where the great Vision of the guarded Mount w y.-'' 
 
 Looks toward Xamancos and Bayona's hold : — 
 
 Look homeward. Angel, now, and melt with ruth, 
 
 And, ye dolphins, waft the liapless youth. 
 
 Weep no more, woeful shepherds, weep no more. 
 For Lycidas, your sorrow, is not dead. 
 Sunk though he be beneath the Avatery floor ; 
 So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed. 
 And yet anon repairs his drooping head, 
 And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore, 170 
 Flames in the forehead of the morning sky. 
 So Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high, 
 Through the dear might of Ilim that walked the 
 
 waves, 
 AVliere, other groves and other streams along. 
 With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves. 
 And hears the unexpressive nuptial song, 
 In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love. 
 There entertain him all the Saints above. 
 
74 LYCIDAS 
 
 In solemn troops and sweet societies, 
 
 That sing, and singing in their glory move, 180 
 
 And wipe the tears forever from his eyes. 
 
 Now, Lycidas, the shepherds weep no more ; 
 
 Henceforth thou art the Genius of the.shore. 
 
 In thy large recompense, and shalt be good 
 
 To all that wander in that perilous flood. 
 
 Thus sang tlie uncouth Swain to the oaks and rills. 
 While the still Morn went out with sandals gray ; 
 He touched the tender stops of various quills. 
 With eager thought warbling his Doric lay ; 
 And now the sun had stretched out all the hills, 100 
 And now was dropt into the western bay ; 
 At last he rose, and twitched his mantle blue : 
 To-morrow to fresh woods, and pastures new. 
 
NOTES 
 
 L'ALLEGRO 
 
 1-10. In these lines Milton naturally and forcibly makes room for 
 cheerfulness by banishing Melancholy to a congenial abode of dark- 
 ness after he has loaded her with opprobrious imprecations. The 
 metrical form employed, a combination of trimeters and pentameters, 
 is admirably adapted to the poet's purpose. It is properly exchanged 
 for a lighter and mere alluring measure in the invocation that follows. 
 
 2. Cerberus was the dog of Pluto and guardian of Hades. He is 
 usually descril)ed as having had three lieads and a serpent's tail. 
 Being himself tlie offspring, along with the Hydra, of the union of 
 the monster Ecliidua with the giant Typhon. he is appropriately 
 taken by Milton as the father of Melancholy. A mother suitable to 
 the spirit, if not to the letter, of classical mythology, from which of 
 course the underlying conception of this and other similar genealogies 
 is borrowed, is found in " blackest midnight ; ' and a fit place of birth 
 in the "Stygian cave forlorn." Cf. Paradise Lost, ii , 655. 
 
 3. Styr/iuji cave forlorn refers to the den of Cerberus beyond the 
 Styx (Virgil, Aeneid, vi., 418), the celebrated river encircling Hades, 
 over which Charon ferried the souls of the dead and by which the 
 gods themselves swore inviolable oaths. See Classical Dictionary. 
 
 4. SJiapes. The very indefiniteness of this word and of "sights im- 
 holy " adds to the effectivene.ss of the description. Unholy has been 
 paraphrased as " impure," but seems equivalent to "liellish." 
 
 5. Uncouth cell. " Uncouth " here, as elsewhere in Milton, appears 
 to combine its original sense of " unknown " (it contains the past par- 
 ticiple of 0. E. cunnun, to know, from which we have "ken" and 
 " can "), with its derived meaning of " ugly," " repulsive." See the 
 Century Dictionary for this word and "forlorn" (1. 3), both once 
 participles, now adjectives. Cf. Lycid., 1. 186. Cell conveys the idea 
 of a confined or narrow place of retin raent. Cf. 11 Pens., 1. 169., 
 Nat. Ode, 1. 180. 
 
 7. Night-raven. As the raven is not a night-bird the owl, night- 
 heron, etc. , have been suggested to explain this verse; but Milton 
 probably meant the raven. See Spenser. Shepherd's Calendar, Eel. 
 vi. and "glosse." 
 
76 NOTES 
 
 8. Low browed rocks. Pope uses this expression in his Eloisa to 
 Abelard, 1. 244. He also employs the '" iow-tliouglited " of Gomus, 
 1. 6, in 1. 298 of the same poem, aiid in 1. 20 wri*es "shagged with 
 horrid thorns " for Milton's "shagg'd with horrid shades" {Coim/s, 
 1. 429. See also Pardise Regained, i., 296). 
 
 10. Cimmerian desert. The Cimmerians were a people mentioned 
 by Homer (Odyssey, xi., 14) as dwelling at the " ends of deep-stream- 
 ing Ocean," in a settled state (Sij/tos re iroMs re), " covered by gloom 
 and cloud." "Never upon them doth the shining sun look down 
 with his beams either when he mounts toward the starry heaven, or 
 when again he turns from heaven his course to earth, but destroying 
 night is extended over the wretched mortals." This description, the 
 simplicity of which should be contrasted with Milton's more elaborate 
 and less effective lines, has so impressed the imagination of subse- 
 quent generations that the phrase "Cimmerian darkness" has been 
 proverbial for ages. Ancient writers sought to fix the habitation of 
 the mythical people, and placed it in Italy, Spain, or the Tauric 
 Chersonese, finding, indeed, in the latter region (now the Crimea) a 
 nomadic people actually existing who may by remote possibility have 
 furnished Homer with a hint for his conception of an ordeied nation 
 dwelling under the sway of perpetual night. Milton by Iiis use of 
 "desert" seems to have tlie historic Cimmerians partly in mind. 
 When he employs the epithet "Cimmerian" after "dark," he is 
 guilty of no tautology, but is simply adding an epithet that will in- 
 tensify the darkness he has so insisted upon throughout his descrip- 
 tion. The whole passage, placing the " uncouth cell" in " dark Cim- 
 merian desert," describing darkness, like some huge bat like bird 
 (cf. Comxis, 11. 251-2) brooding {i.e., hovering) over the lothsome 
 retreat and guarding it "with jealous wings," while the portentous 
 "night-raven" croaks ("sings"), and the black shades and threaten- 
 ing rocks offer their grim welcome to a visitor whose very looks seem 
 to partake of their own repulsive nature, is a superb example of poetic 
 elaboration, foreshadowing the "grand style" of which Milton is so 
 consummate a master. 
 
 11-24. These lines invoking " heart easing Mirth" and giving her 
 parentage, are appropriately composed in the tripping octosyllabic 
 couplets that are used throughout the remainder of the poem as well 
 as in the bulk of II Penseroso, in the lyric parts of Comus, and in the 
 Ejntaph on the Marchioness of Winchester. It will be noted that in 
 this measure, in which the Elizabethans did some of their best work, 
 Milton allows himself the frequent use of one or more seven-syllabled 
 lines, thus obtaining not merely a trochaic effect, but also a variety, 
 swiftness, and directness of movement which few modern poets who 
 have attempted the same verse-form liave been able to equal. The 
 
L'ALLEGRO H 
 
 fatal facility with which the measure degenerates into doggerel has 
 been often jwinted out, but, like all great artists, Milton can obtain 
 some of his best effects from the use of forms which in the hands of 
 minor artists lend themselves only too frequently to the production of 
 the commonplace. 
 
 12. Y-clejyt Euphrosyne, i.e., called Euphrosyne, who was one of 
 the three Graces, daughters of Zeus or Bacchus, who presided over the 
 kind offices or charities of life. Hence their name Gharites. Eu- 
 phrosyne was the cheerful Grace, her sisters, Aglaia and Thalia, were 
 brtglit and blooming respectively. They constantly attended their 
 mother Venus, and Horace has described them for all time as " gratiae 
 decentes" [Odes, I., iv., 6). Milton follows the least common of the 
 much mixed classical genealogies and then furnishes Euphrosyne with 
 a more ideal and unique one of his own making, the West Wind and 
 the Goddess of the Dawn being more likely to produce a pure and 
 ethereal offspring than the God of Wine and the Goddess of Love. 
 The first genealogy is given in Servius on Aeneid i., 720 (Keightley 
 quoted by Browne). Yclept is the past participle of the obsolete " to 
 clepe " (O. E., cUpian, to call). For the change from the prefix ge to 
 y or i, see Lounsbury's Hist, of the Eng. Lang., pp. 387-1j89 rev. ed.). 
 For the use of similar words by the Elizabethans, see Abbott's Shak- 
 sperian Gram mar, § 34"). 
 
 13. JTeart-easing. Milton's use of compound epithets has been 
 made the subject of much comment and is worthy of serious study. 
 Many subsequent poets, Collins and Gray especially, have imitated 
 him and borrowed from him, but no one, not even Tennyson, has 
 equalled him. The student will find it interesting and profitable to 
 observe how and in what proportions the various parts of speech are 
 combined by the poet, as well as to note the special poetic effect of the 
 epithets so formed. 
 
 14. At a birth. ^ is a shortened form of an (one). 
 
 17. Or tchcther {as some soger sing). The construction is changed 
 here, although the meaning is not obscured. To have continued the 
 construction would have involved the use of some such phrase as 
 " whom else," which might well have led to a weakening of the 
 verse. The meaning of the parenthe.sis is "as some wiser poets sing. " 
 Sager may, of course, be taken as an adverb in the comparative, 
 equivalent to " more wisely, but this view deprives the word of much 
 of its poetic timbre. Bell suggests that as it is not known to what 
 poets Milton refers, he may be merely " modestly recommending his 
 own view." In this sense the expression becomes slightly humorous, 
 although humor is not a conspicuous ingredient in Milton's character. 
 I am not sure but that Milton may have been thinking of Ben Jonson 
 when he wrote "sager," for, although I have not found this genealogy 
 
78 NOTES 
 
 in Jousou, there are two masiiues of liis, The Paidtes and 77ie Vision 
 of Delight, in wliicli Zephyr and Aurora are introduced, along with 
 Flora, who is represented as the Wind's sweetheart. Milton may 
 merely have remembered the association of the two, and intended to 
 apply the compliment loosely I notice that Mr. Verity seems to 
 incline to this opinion. Cf. FarndiRe Lofif, v., 16. 
 
 18. Frolic, frolicsome. Breitthes is here used transitively. Cf. 
 notes to // Pens., 11. 133 and 151. 
 
 20. A-viaying. The a in this and similar phrases, like " a-fishing," 
 is a weakening of the preposition " on," the second portion of the 
 phrase being therefore a verbal noun. The reference to the games 
 and sports, ancient and modern, called forth by balmy May is of 
 course apparent, the subject being a familiar one with English poets 
 from Chaucer to Tennyson. Tliis very phrase is used in one of the 
 songs in the first masque of Jonson's named above. Once is equiva- 
 lent to the " once upon a time " of the fairy stories. 
 
 22. Cf. Shakspere, The Taming of the Shrew, II., i.. 173-4 : 
 
 " I'll say she looks as clear 
 As morning roses newly washed with dew." 
 
 Cf. also Tennyson's Dream of Fair Women, 14 (Verity). 
 
 24. Buxwn. etc. Cf. with this often-quoted verse, II. Pens., 1. 82, 
 and I. 23 in the Prologue to Shakspere's Pericles, Act I., that runs : 
 
 "So buxom, blithe, and full of face." 
 Browne quotes from Burton's Anat. of Mil.: 
 
 '■ That was so fine, so fair, 
 So blithe, so debonaire." 
 
 Todd quotes from T. Randolph's Anatippus a verse in which the 
 same three epitliets appear in a slightly changed order. IJut whether 
 Milton recalled these lines when he wrote is more than doubtful, and, 
 after all, we quote Milton. The line as it stands is about equivalent to 
 "full of life, joy, and easy grace."' Bu.roin originally meant " obe- 
 dient ; " now it implies a hearty comeliness. Debonair (French, de bon 
 air), of good mien or manners. See Skeats Etymological Dictionary 
 for these and other words of interest. A study of epithets is especially 
 important to the student who would form a good style and learn to 
 appreciate the finer shades of criticism 
 
 25-40. Although the passage formed by these lines does not end 
 with a full stop, there is a considerable change of tliought introduced 
 with the 41st verse, which warrants a break in the analysis. Th« 
 
L'ALLEGRO 79 
 
 poet now continues his invocation of JMirth with greater iusistance. 
 and describes her customary companions, wliom she is requested to 
 bring with her. Commentators liave noted a curious parallelism be- 
 tween 11. 26-30 and some Latin verses of George Buchanan's, which 
 Milton may probably have recalled. The germ of the idea is in 
 Statins Si/lv., I , vi. G-7, and in Horace's 
 
 '' Sive tu mavis, Eryciua ridens, 
 Quam Jocus circum volat et Cupido." 
 
 {Odes, I., ii., 33-34.) 
 
 25. Haste t/iee, Nymph. Here " thee " may be used reliexively, but 
 its use differs little, if at all, from that common in Elizabethan Eng- 
 lish after an imperative, " tliee " in such expressions as ■ look thee," 
 "speed thee," being practically equivalent to " thou. ' See Abbott, 
 § 212. " Nympli " is an appropriate appellation in view of the gen- 
 ealogies given of Mirth ; it also brings out the latter"s open-air qual- 
 ities, if we may so speak. 
 
 27. Quqis and Cranks and icanton Wiles. "Quip" {cf. 'whip") 
 conveys the idea of a sharp, clever saying which here, though not al- 
 ways, must possess no sting. Crank is a "twist" or "turn" of 
 speech with something humorous or grotesque about it, a notion 
 which is also associated with our colloquial " crank, " although the 
 difiPerent derivation of the latter word is to be noted. See Century 
 Dictionary. Wanton Wiles, playful or merry tricks ; the idea of cun- 
 ning involved in WVes is given an innocent and pleasant sense by the 
 juxtaposition of the idea of sportiveness involved in wanton. This 
 last word is frequently used in a bad sense more consonant with its 
 derivation. 
 
 28. Nods and Becks. Alluring signs with head and fingers are nat- 
 urally characteristic of the Nymph of Cheerfulness. So are tcreathed 
 smiles, especially when they are of such sort as Jiang on Hebe's cheek. 
 Cf. with Milton's beautiful reference to smiles and dimples Tasso, 
 A7ninta, I., i.. T-8. Warton compares a stanza in Burton's Anatomy 
 and asserts that Milton took thence 1 28. Such positive assertions 
 are very rash. Nods and becks and smiles might occur in combina- 
 tion to any poet. ^Vliile the relative clauses in 11. 29-30 are strictly 
 connected with "smiles," Milton must have summed up "nods," 
 and "becks" and " smiles" as proper accompaniments of cheerful- 
 ness in some ideal personage like Hebe. 
 
 29. Hebe, the goddess of youth, who ministered nectar to the gods. . 
 
 30. Sleek, soft, as in a " sleek skin," with a possible allusion to the 
 secondary meaning, "sly" or "arch." 
 
 81. 6^rt7'e is of course the direct object of '/erz(f^s. 
 33. You. The whole company is expected to dance. 
 
80 NOTES 
 
 34. Fantastic. Tlie toe in daucing is probably described by this ad- 
 jective because its movement is regarded as more or less ordered by 
 the fancy, i.e., as "improvised." The poetical effectiveness of this 
 epithet and of " wreathed " (above) should be observed. Cf. Comus, 
 I. 144. 
 
 36. Liberty. Bell notes that in Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy there 
 is a chapter entitled, "Loss of Liberty as a Cause of Melanchulj' ; " 
 if this i<lea be followed out, Mirth could bring with her no more con- 
 genial companion. Li thy right hand indicates the post of honor 
 assigned to Liberty. The student of history will see at once the force 
 of the expression mountain-nymjyh, and will recall Wordsworth's 
 noble sonnet, Tlwuglit of a Briton on the Subjugation of Switzer- 
 land. Warton, however, thought Milton merely meant to call Lib- 
 erty an Oread, and we may be reading modern notions into the lines. 
 
 38. Admit vie of thy creuo. Give me admission to thy company. 
 Note the poetical effect produced by conciseness of statement and the 
 use of a familiar word in a somewhat unusual sense. 
 
 40. Unreproved, unreprovable. The passive participle was fre- 
 quently iised by the Elizabethans as equivalent to an adjective in 
 " — able." See Abbott, § 375. Here, too, the gain in concision and 
 loss of precision involved in the choice of epithets, as well as the 
 postpositive position of " free," being contrary to the usage of prose, 
 are specially appropriate to poetry. The arrangement of the adjec- 
 tives here employed — one before and one after the noun — is very 
 common in Milton. It seems to be of Greek origin, and the second 
 adjective frequently appears to qualify the idea conveyed by the first 
 adjective and noun combined. 
 
 41-68. This passage, which completes the grammatical sentence 
 begun in 1. 33, describes by a series of exquisite though unelabor- 
 ated pictures the pleasures of a cheerful man abroad early on a 
 delightful morning. It is plain from several verses 53 and 89 
 among others) and from the association of pictures belonging to various 
 seasons of the year, that Milton is describing an ideal day, rather than 
 one belonging to a particular season. Minute critics have succeeded 
 in showing that some of the pictures are not entirely true to nature ; 
 but they waste their time, for Milton has surely imbibed nature's 
 spirit, and his poem lives, as all true poetry does, by the spirit rather 
 than by the letter. Browne has a very similar, but not so beautiful, 
 description in Britannia'' s Pastorals.^ II., iv. , 483 siq. (Warton.) 
 
 41. To hear may be explained as an infinitive of purpose dependent 
 upon " admit," like " to live," in 1. 38 ; but as the whole passage is 
 practically but an expansion of the expression " unreproved pleasures 
 free," it would seem best to take " to hear " and " to come," I. 45, as 
 infinitives in apposition to " pleasures." 
 
L'ALLEORO 81 
 
 43. Dull is a very appropriate epithet for night when the character 
 of L'Allegro is considered. II Penseroso could not have used it con- 
 sistently. This description of the lark naturally suggests comparison 
 witli what other poets have sung about the same bird. Wordsworth, 
 Shelley, and more recently, Mr. William Watson, have made it the 
 subject of well-known poems, which the pupil should read; but he 
 should commit to memory and keep by him forever those divine lines 
 from Shakspere's 29th Sonnet that run, 
 
 ' ' Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, 
 Haply I think on thee, and then my state, 
 Like to the lark at break of day arising 
 From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate." 
 
 Even Milton's genius pales before these flawless and unapproachable 
 verses. Of. Paradise Regained, ii., 279-81. 
 
 44. Dappled. Connected with "dip" and "dimple," hence the 
 idea of " spotted." It is usually associated with gray, so we have the 
 expression " dapple gray." Warton quotes Shakspere's ^^ Dapples the 
 drowsy east with spots of gray," 3fuch Ado, V., iii., 27. From this 
 verb we get "dappled," i.e., "covered with small spots of gray 
 cloud,' referring to the sky at dawn. It is to be noted that Milton in 
 many cases chooses to sound the ed in such verbs rather than to sound 
 a vowel before the liquid, i.e., dappled, not dappel'd. 
 
 45. 2'o come. The four lines introduced by this infinitive (see 
 note to 1. 41) have occasioned commentators not a little discussion. 
 Who or what is the subject of ' to come." Some say the lark, others 
 L'Allegro himself. The latter aver that it is contrary to a lark's hab- 
 its to come down from "his watch-tower in the skies'' and "bid 
 good-morrow," even at the window of so congenial a companion as 
 the poet Milton, whom we may identify for the nonce with the cheer- 
 ful man. The former aflBirm that Milton is not a strictly accurate 
 observer of nature, and that he was thinking rather of the poetry im- 
 plicit in his idea. They therefore make " become " dependent on 
 "to hear," like " startle," and explain the unusual " to " by the fact 
 that " become " is too far away from " to hear " to be able to omit the 
 usual infinitive sign. They then have to explain the phrase " in spite 
 of sorrow." as meaning that the lark com s down to Miltons window 
 and sings in order to defy or spite sorrow, of course the sorrow of some 
 one else than L'Allegro or the bird itself. This seems far-fetched, 
 whereas if the view that it is L'Allegro who goes to his window and bids 
 good-morrow be accepted, the phrase is capable of fairly satisfactory 
 explanation. It is surely in keeping with L' Allegro's character to ap- 
 proach his casement, drawn thither by the lark's song, and salute the 
 rising morn or the new day with the manifold pleasures it has in store 
 
 6 
 
82 NOTES 
 
 for him (this object of his salutatiou being omitted without too great 
 loss of clearness); aud be can do this "in spite of sorrow," that is;, 
 despite the sorrow or evil chances that any day, no matter how 
 fairly it begins may have in store even for the most cheerful optimist. 
 The commentators who, like Professor Hales, cannot accept this obvious 
 explanation of the lines should ask themselves further what pro- 
 priety there was in Milton's referring, some verses below, to the cock's 
 strutting before his hens, unless the poet was at Ms window to see the 
 performance. But we get him to the window by making him the 
 subject of " to come. ' This view lemoves all suspicion that Milton 
 inserted a phrase for the sake of a rhyme, or that he was thoughtless 
 enough to describe something that could not possibly happen in a 
 poem chiefly remarkable for its descriptions. That the passage is ob- 
 scure must be admitted, but it is obscure through compression, which 
 is characteristic of Milton's art. while padding aud slipshodness never 
 are. It may be remarked, finally, tiiat Masson's idea that the poet has 
 begun liis walk, and says "good-morrow" from outside the window 
 to others of his family, is hardly tenable 
 
 47. Sweet-briar. This is the eglantine or wild-rose, and the 
 twisted eglantine of the next verse has been thought to be the honey- 
 suckle, as the real eglantine is not " twisted." 
 
 50. Thin probably limits the whole phrase "rear of darkness," in 
 which "rear" seems to have its military signification. This would 
 make "thin" nearly equivalent to "straggling," which is not far 
 from its meaning, if it be held to limit " darkness " alone. (Bell.) 
 
 53. Listening refers to L' Allegro himself, and its introduction is less 
 abrupt if the explanation given above of " to come " be accepted; 
 for it will then be used to limit the subject understood) of the nearest 
 main statement, which is practically made by this much discussed in- 
 finitive. The clause introduced by "Aoto" maybe regarded as the 
 object of the mental operation inherent in " listening." 
 
 54. Cheeiiy, cheerfully. 
 
 55. Hoar may be taken to mean gray through mist or distance, or 
 it may mean literally that the hill is white with frost in the early 
 morning, which is likely, since such mornings are most suitable for 
 hunting ; or finally, it may be nearly equivalent to old or immemo- 
 rial, which is hardly probable. The whole line and the next may 
 mean either that the music of hound and horn echoes shrill through 
 the high wood on the hillside, or that the hunt.smen and dogs begin 
 on the hillside and then go "echoing'' through the " high wood " 
 (i.e., a wood with tall trees cleared of underbrush : French futaie, as 
 opposed to hois). The latter interpretation seems the more poetical, 
 as the elements of time and motion are introduced ; it also throws an 
 ictus on " high " that improves the verse metrically. 
 
L'ALLEGRO 83 
 
 57. Sometime (printed originally as two words) seems slightly differ- 
 ent in meaning here from the adverbial genitive ''sometimes." It 
 appears to imply " for a space ' (of time). See, however, note to II 
 P.ns., 1. 97. Walking. See •listening," 1. 53. Not unseen. The 
 cheerfnl man loves to see and be seen, even if he does not have speech 
 with his kind. Cf. JlPens., 1. 05 and note. Burton's Abstract of 
 Melancholy, prefixed to his Anatomy, has the following stanza, which 
 may be profitably compared here : 
 
 ■ When to myself I act and smile, 
 With pleasing thoughts the time beguile, 
 By a brook side or wood so green, 
 Unheard, unsonyht for, or unseen, 
 A thousand pleasures do me bless, 
 And crown my soul with happiness. 
 All my joys besides are folly, 
 None so sweet as melancliuly. " 
 See Introductoi'y Note to L'Alleyro, p. 2. 
 
 59. Right against, etc , modifies "walking' and is equivalent to 
 "toward the sunrise." Gray has lifted this line bodily to his De- 
 scent of Odin. 
 
 60. State, stately march or pomp. 
 
 61. Amber, amber-colored, i.e., yellowish and translucent. 
 
 63. The clouds in t/iousand liberies dight is an absolute construction, 
 equivalent to " the clouds being clad in numerous liveries." Livenes 
 seems to be plainly used of the clouds because they are regarded as 
 servants or attendants of the sun, not because of the various hues 
 displayed. Cf. Paradise Lost, iv., 598-9. Thousand is here not a 
 definite number, and has more jioetical force than if some such prosaic 
 word as "countless " had been used. Cf. Comus, 1. 205. Dight, 
 which is nearly obsolete, is in its origin almost equal to '" prepared," 
 " arranged." Cf. II Pens., 1. 159. 
 
 65. Blithe. Here, as frequently (cf. "shrill," 1. 56), the adjective 
 used as adverb does not lose much of its adjectival sense, and still 
 points to a quality inherent in the subject. Notice the brisk move- 
 ment of these closing lines, obtained by the repetition of '' and ' and 
 the use of seven-syllabled verses. 
 
 67. Tells his tale, counts the number of his flock. O. E. talu meant 
 a number ; hence tellan, to count, from which the modern meanings 
 of the words are easily derived. Milton can hardly mean that all the 
 shepherds gather under a tree at such an early hour to amuse 
 themselves by telling stories. Warton explains the passage cor- 
 rectly in a note which shows curiously how much a century has done 
 
84 NOTES 
 
 to increase the knowledge of the history of our tongue. But cf. Nat. 
 Ode, 1 87. 
 
 69-99. This passage describes the pleasures of being abroad on a 
 bright noonday and afternoon. The description is effected by the 
 same swift succession of unelaborated pictures. 
 
 69. /SirazV/Ai, straightway. The •' new pleasures" are the "russet 
 lawns," " fallows gray, " " mountains," etc., that follow. 
 
 70. Lnndakip round, the landscape stretching on all sides. ' ' Round ' ' 
 maybe taken as an adverb modifying •measures," but this view- 
 seems to sacrifice somewhat of poetic effect. Cf. note to Comus, 1. 
 935, and I'aradise Begained, iii , 418. 
 
 71. Russet lawns and fallows gray, reddish brown open spaces and 
 gray unsown fields. Mr. Verity, however, gives good reasons for hold- 
 ing that here " russet" is equivalent to "gray." The history of '* fal- 
 low," which has now lost its signification of " j>ale-colored," and so 
 requires the addition of " gray," should be looked up by the pupil. 
 The word was often used by O. E. poets with reference to the sea. 
 The derivation of '* lawn " is disputed, but the student should be 
 careful not to give the word its restricted modern meaning. 
 
 74. Laboring, big with rain. Of course, Milton does not mean to 
 imply that the clouds threaten rain on any particular morning, or 
 that there are mountains around Horton. 
 
 75. Trim, well kept. Cf. II Pens., 1. 50. Pied, variegated like a 
 magpie, a frequent epithet in poetry. 
 
 78. Bosomed, i.e., contained in the midst of. Cf. Comvs, 1. 368 
 and T7ie Passion, 1. 53. Tufted, refers to the fact that the foliage of 
 the trees spreading loosely might be likened to a " tuft" of grass or 
 feathers. Cf. "the tufted crow-toe," Lycid., 1. 143; also Comus, 1. 
 225. Hills are sometimes described as " tufted" with trees. 
 
 79 Beauty lies ; some beautifiU young woman of distinction dwells. 
 Cf. Shelley's " Like a high-bor)i maiden In a palace tower." Windsor 
 Castle is probably alluded to in the passage. 
 
 80. The cynosure of neighboring eyes. One of the most familiar 
 lines of the poem. " Cynosure " refers to something that attracts 
 great interest. In Greek it meant " dog's tail," and was used to de- 
 scribe and point out the stars composing the tail of the Lesser Bear, 
 the last of which is the pole star, by which Phoenician sailors were 
 wont to steer (Skeat). See note to Comus, 1. 341. 
 
 83. Corydon and the other names here introduced are of frequent 
 occurrence in the pastoral poems of Theocritus, Virgil, and their imi- 
 tators. See Lycidas and Comus, passim. 
 
 85. Messes, dishes. 
 
 87. Boicer would not be used now of a cottage, but of either an ar- 
 bor or a lady's chamber. Cf. II Pens., 1. 104 ; Comus, 1. 46. 
 
L'ALLEQRO 85 
 
 90. Supply "she goes." 
 
 91. " Sometimes " here indicates a change in the time of day. Se- 
 cure is used in its original (Latin) sense of •' free from care." 
 
 93. Upland hamlets, out-of-the-way villages or clusters of "little 
 homes " This use of " upland " is seen in the title of Alexander Bar- 
 clay's eclogue, The Cytezeii and Uplondyshman ." M. Arnold uses the 
 word twice in Thyrsis, but with not quite the present connotation. 
 
 94. Jocund. The merriment or pleasure implied in this word 
 (Latin J«9c?/;i(ZMs) is transferred from the dancers to the instrument that 
 furnishes their music — a kind of fiddle. Rebeck was originally a 
 Persian word and was quite common in our old poets, as Warton has 
 shown. 
 
 96. Chequered is a very picturesque epithet, bringing out the play 
 of lights and shadows on the green over which the dancers are trip- 
 ping. 
 
 97. Bell makes this line read, "And (to) young and old (who have) 
 come forth to play," the whole therefore depending on "rebeck's 
 sound." It seems simpler, however, to insert a second "when" and 
 take "come" as an indicative, not as a participle. Read in this 
 sense, the lines appear to move more swiftly, and to separate more 
 sharply the children and old people from the youth of both sexes. 
 Browne's punctuation is in accordance with the latter explanation. 
 Cf. 1. 98 with Comiis, 1. 959. 
 
 100-116. These lines describe the plea.sure to be had in listening to 
 rustic tales told before an open fire. 
 
 100. Spicy nut-brown, ale, "a drink composed of hot ale, nutmeg, 
 sugar, toast, and roasted crabs or apples." (Bell, after Warton.) 
 
 102. Faery Mab. Mercutio s description of Queen Mab {Romeo and 
 Juliet, L, iv., 53-95) as the bestower of dreams should be consulted 
 by the pupil, as well as the opening passages of Shelley's Queen Mab, 
 which contain some beautiful poetry and nothing anti-theological. 
 Junkets. Here, any sort of sweetmeats. Originally a kind of cream- 
 cheese, served up on rushes, the Italian giunro, a rush, furnishing its 
 name. (Skeat.) Eat is preterite but must be made to rhyme with 
 "feat." 
 
 10:3. The pronouns in this and the following line indicate exchange 
 oF experiences between the male and female servants. Fairies were 
 supposed to pinch lazy menials, 
 
 104. The construction is awkward here but is improved by putting 
 a semicolon after " led." The same, or another, " he " may then be 
 taken as the subject of "tells." Miltoii saw the awkwardness of his 
 phraseology and made the line read, in the edition of 1673, 
 
 " And by the Friar's Lanthorn led; " 
 
86 NOTES 
 
 but a subject must still be supplied for •■ tells." aud it seems better to 
 retain the masculine pronoun in order to add variety to the dialogue or 
 monologue. Friar^s Lantern appears to be the Will-o'-the-wisp or Jack- 
 o -lantern, but how the expression arose is still in doubt, unless there is 
 a confusion with Friar Rush . a spirit that haunted houses. Several edi- 
 tors follow Keightley in charging Milton with this confusion (a charge 
 which would probably have only drawn a smile from him\ but Mr. 
 Verity thinks that '"Friar'" simply refers to the "goblin"" of 1. 105. 
 He shows that Robin Goodfellow, the goblin referred to, was spoken 
 of as " the Friar,'" and that Burton is authority for the existence of 
 other spirits besides Jack-o'-lantern, who mislead by the use of false 
 lights. But this explanation does not explain, for supposing that we 
 have only one speaker, how could she with propriety be represented 
 in one verse as being mis-" led '' by the tricksy sprite and in the next 
 as engaging him in her service ? Besides, the introduction of '" tells" 
 evidently favors the idea that there is a new speaker at 1. 104. and. 
 as we have seen above, it is better to have this speaker a man. Cf. as 
 to Jack o'-Lantern, Paradise Lost, ix., G:J4-4'2. 
 
 105. Drttdfjing goblin, an imaginary being supposed to haunt dark 
 places, especially the bowels of the earth. Synonyms are elf, gnome. 
 the German Kobold (a different word probably), and, in English folk- 
 lore, Robin Goodfellow, Hobgoblin, or Puck. Warton quotes Burton, 
 Anat. of Mel., I., ii.: " A bigger kind there is of them {i.e., terrestrial 
 demons) called with us hobgoblins and Robin Goodfellows, that would 
 in those superstitious times grind corn for a mess of milk, cut wood, or 
 do any manner of drudgery work, ... to draw water, dress meat, 
 or any such thing," Shakspere's Puck describes himself in Mid. 
 Night's Dream, II., i., 42-57. 
 
 110. Lubber, a clumsy, strong fellow, may go along with " fiend" 
 (which must be pronounced so as to rhyme with " end " ), but hardly 
 sorts with our notion of a fairy such as Robin Goodfellow was. It is 
 not so much out of place with a goblin, however, especially with 
 one capable of doing the work described. Shakspere uses "' lob," a 
 kindred word, with reference to Puck. Warton's reference to Lob- 
 lie-by-the fire, a giant mentioned by Fletcher {Knight of the B. P.) 
 seems far fetched. 
 
 113. Crop-full refers properly to birds. Here it means "satiated 
 with food," '' with full stomach." Note the force of " flings," which 
 has been traced to an old song of Puck. 
 
 114. Matin is French for morning. Here it means the cock's salu- 
 tation to the morning. Cf. "matins." Ghosts and spirits departed at 
 cock crow. See note to Comus, 1. 432. 
 
 117-152. In this passage the cheerful man quits the company of 
 men and retires to that of books and music in order to close his de- 
 
T/ALLEGRO 87 
 
 lightful day, the pleasures of which conspire to determine him to live 
 with Mirth if she can give them permanently. This at any rate is the 
 usual interpretation, for the poet does not provide any means to 
 transport L' Allegro to the city except the use of the latter's imagina- 
 tion in reading. Besides, if the contests of wit and arms are under- 
 stood to refer to the problematic courts of love and tournaments, it is 
 hard to see how L' Allegro could witness these at night, or the former, 
 at least, at any time in the seventeenth century, without reading about 
 them in some old romance. Then, too, Milton may have wished to 
 contrast the kinds of reading done by his two ideal men. See 11 
 Pens., 11. 85-130. It must be noticed, too that in II Penseroso, al 
 though we are given accessories of study, such as the ■• lamp at mid- 
 night hour," there is no actual mention of books, and we have " gor- 
 geous Tragedy" sweeping by as vividly as though II Penseroso were 
 sitting at the Globe watching a play of Shaksperes If the more se- 
 rious poem were written first, this vivid method of describing the read- 
 ing done would be employed in L' Allegro. There is, further, every 
 dramatic propriety in representing the cheerful man as interesting 
 himself fir.st in tales of folk-lore, then in romances of chivalry. Mr. 
 Verity argues forcibly against this view of the passage, which is cham- 
 pioned by Professor Masson. He claims rightly that it is more natural 
 for L'AUegro to prefer seeing the sights of a city to reading about 
 them, and he thinks that Milton intended to contrast, not the kinds of 
 reading done by his ideal men, but their reading and not reading. 
 As Mr. Verity does not believe that Milton intended to describe an 
 ideal day. he is not concerned to show how L'AUegro is to get to the 
 city, but the critic who can escape the conviction that Milton meant to 
 describe an ideal day is a hard person to argue with. The objection 
 with regard to the possibility of seeing courts of love in Milton's day 
 might be met by urging that the poet is simply describing court life in 
 high flown language ; that he may, indeed be referring to balls and 
 other entertainments, just as he actually does to masques and plays. 
 Yet Mr, Verity holds that the lines in question "paint in miniature a 
 typical scene of mediaeval chivalry " (!) LI. 129-130 are, however, 
 hardly as much in keeping with this view as they are with the idea 
 that L'AUegro, or Milton, will read at night what he has dreamed 
 about at noonday. But, after all, I must confess that I should prefer 
 to get L'AUegro to the city in person, and that I do it whenever I read 
 the poem uncritically. Cf., as to Milton's own theatre-going, his fir.st 
 Latin elegy (translated by Cowper), 
 
 119. Barons bold. Of. Gray's Bard, "Girt with many abaron bold." 
 
 120. Weeds, originally garments in general, now only those of a 
 widow. Hi'g7i triumphs, i.e., public entertainments like masques, 
 tournaments, etc, Cf. the Roman use of the word. 
 
88 NOTES 
 
 121. Store of, abuudance of, mauy. The expression is more poetical 
 than if a common adjective or noun of number had been used. Cf. 
 the O. E. ixse of Map, " leofra heap," Elene, 1. 120C. 
 
 122. Rain influence, i.e., the eyes of the ladies poured forth such 
 " influence " as the stars were once supposed to exert upon the careers 
 of men. "Influence," meaning literally "a flowing in" of effects 
 (from the stars), now generally means power, authority, e.g., a man 
 of influence. Judge. Literally, the '"eyes" seem to adjudge the 
 prize, and this view is complimentary to the "store of ladies." 
 
 124. Her, i.e., of the reigning favorite. " Tlie grace of her whom," 
 etc. 
 
 125. Hymen, the god of marriage, whose appearance will usher in 
 some gorgeous wedding ceremony or masque in honor of such an oc- 
 casion. L. 12G describes him as he was usually represented. See 
 Jonson's Masque of Uymen. 
 
 127. Pomp., probably as in Latin, a solemn procession. Cf. Para- 
 dise Lost, vii., 564. 
 
 128. Pagt-'anti^y. a show or spectacle with mythological or allegorical 
 subjects. See Skeat for the history of its derivation from the " pag- 
 eant," a movable platform on which the old mystery plays were per- 
 formed. Compare also the " floats" in our modern processions. For 
 a description of a masque see the Introductory Xote to Comun. 
 
 131. Well-trod may refer to the number of dramas performed or to 
 the ability of contemporary actors. See, however, II Pens., \. 101. 
 
 132. The pupil will do well to refresh himself from Brooke's Primer 
 of English Literature, or some other source, with the main facts in 
 the careers of Ren Jonson (who was living when these lines were 
 written), and Shakspere. He should read also Milton's fine epitaph 
 and Ben Jonson's memorial verses on Shakspere, as well as Jonson's 
 prose tribute in his Timber. Milton's lines must not be understood 
 to lend countenance to the long current theory that Shakspere was an 
 " inspired barbarian." The Epitaph sliows that Milton simply meant 
 to oppose Shakspere's unparalleled facility and copiousness to the 
 "slow endeavoring art" of less endowed poets. That he could ever 
 have thought Shakspere to be without art is hardly tenable in spite of 
 the well-known passage in Eikonoklastes. Sock. The socctis was a 
 low slipper or light shoe worn by actors in ancient comedy, in distinc- 
 tion to the higher buskin or cotJiurnns employed in tragedy. Hence, 
 as here, the words are used for the two species of drama. See II 
 Pens., 1. 102. The comedies of Jonson and Shakspere are proper 
 reading for a man of L' Allegro's temperament ; " learned " and ' ' wood- 
 notes wild " serve admirably to distinguish the two masters. Some 
 editors indeed claim that "wood-notes wild" will not fit most of 
 Shakspere's comedies. Perhaps not, but Milton was thinking rather 
 
L'ALLEGRO 89 
 
 of Shakspere as an immortal bird of soug (" carminis alite") than of 
 his plays as 'wood-notes;" and he certainly did not expect to be 
 taken so literally. 
 
 135. Eating cares, a reminiscence of Horace {Odes, II., xi., 18). It 
 is no fancy that has enabled readers to see in the liquid flow of these 
 lines a conscious or unconscious endeavor of the poet to describe the 
 effects of music in poetry that should be as melodious as music itself. 
 The whole passage should be learned by heart. 
 
 136. Lydian airs. L'Allegro desires to be wrapped in soft strains cor- 
 responding to the third of the generally received three chief modes 
 of ancient music, the Dorian, the Phrygian, the Lydian. The first 
 was more majestic, the second more sprightly. Milton himself would 
 naturally prefer the serious Dorian, which he mentions more than 
 once. Clf. Dryden's " Softly sweet, in Lydian measures" (Alexander'x 
 Feast). 
 
 137. Wordsworth borrowed this line entire and applied it to Wis- 
 dom (Excursion, vii. . near the middle). 
 
 138. Meeting means that the soul comes out to meet the verse (or 
 airs ?). Pi>rce must be pronounced to rhyme with " verse." Cf. The 
 Passion 11. 22 and 24, and Sol. Music, 11. 2 and 4. 
 
 139. This and several following lines practically expand and ex- 
 plain the phrase " in soft Lydian airs." Bout, a turn in the music. 
 
 141. This line in which each epithet seems inapplicable to its noun 
 (the figure, o.xymoron) expresses exactly for mii.-^ic the concealed but 
 perfect art which in the case of Shakspere's romantic comedies was 
 characterized by the phrase " wood-notes wild." 
 
 142. Mazes, intricate passages of the music. The whole line is used 
 absolutely. 
 
 143. f7«<M>wftn^ probably limits "voice," but this would be more 
 clearly true if a comma were inserted after that word. 
 
 145. The story of Orpheits a.wA. Eui'ydice, how the mythical musician 
 .sought his wife from Hades, is practically told in the poem. The 
 fate of Orpheus himself is told in Lycidas, 11. 58-63. Cf. also // 
 Pens., 1. 105 and Paradise Lost, vii , 34-37. There are few mytho- 
 logical incidents more frequently referred to in verse, and nowhere 
 does the reference seem to be better made than here Compare, how- 
 ever Matthew Arnolds lines from the Memoi'ial Verses on Words- 
 worth : 
 
 " Ah, pale ghosts rejoice ! 
 For never has such soothing voice 
 Been to your shadowy world conveyed. 
 Since erst, at morn, some wandering shade 
 Heard the clear song of Orpheus come 
 Through Hades and the mournful gloom." 
 
90 NOTES 
 
 Read also the admirable description of the minstrel in Leconte de 
 Lisle"s Khirdn {I'oemes Antiques). For the use of sdf as a noun, see 
 Morris's Ilislorical Outlines of EngliA Accidence, p. 123. Heave, lift, 
 raise. Milton is fond of the word in this connection. 
 
 146. Golden here connotes qualities of slumber that cannot be ade- 
 quately represented in prose ; but this very indeliniteness adds to its 
 poetic force. 
 
 147. The Elysian fields, the abode of the blessed after death, were 
 conceived of by Homer as lying at the western border of the world. 
 Later they were put in the Islands of the Blest, later still in the lower 
 world, or Hades. It is hard to say which view Milton took when he 
 wrote his lines, for the subsequent reference to Pluto and Eurydice, 
 who were in Hades, need not necessarily mean that Orpheus had 
 there his " bed of heaped Elysian llowers." Cf. Paradise L"st, iii., 
 359. 
 
 151. The concluding couplet suggests comparison with the ending 
 of Marlowe's exquisite poem. The Passionate tihepherd to His Love. 
 
 IL PEXSEROSO 
 
 1-10. The student will at once observe that in rhythm and stanzaic 
 structure these verses parallel the introductory lines of L'Allegro. 
 This prepares us for the parallelisms and contrasts of matter and dic- 
 tion that the two poems afford. A tabular analysis of these is some- 
 times furnished by editors, but may best be left as an original exer- 
 cise for the pupil. After the first passage the logical divisions do not 
 correspond exactly in number of lines, II Penseroso containing twenty- 
 four lines more than its companion poem. It should be noted that in 
 banishing "Joys,'" the Thoughtful Man, true to his character, is far 
 less concrete and material in his expressions than the Cheerful Man 
 was. Compare in this connection Fletcher's beautiful song, "Hence, 
 all you vain delights," from The Nice Valour, and Burton's poem 
 before referred to. 
 
 1. Editors base the opening lines on some of Sylvester's — witli 
 probability but not with the certainty they assume. 
 
 2. The parentage of " Joys" is expressed by one line of powerful 
 scorn, not by heaped up opprobrium as in L'Allerjro. 
 
 3. Bested, used for "bestead," which, with its involved idea of 
 place, naturally suggests the meaning "assist." " Help " or " avail " 
 are also synonyms that may be employed in explanation. " Bestead " 
 is now obsolete e.xcept in its past participle. See Skeat and Cent. Diet. 
 
 4. Fived mind, i.e., the mind that has fixed its thoughts on high 
 things, not on trivial ("toys"). Cf. Paradise Lost, i. , 97. 
 
//. PENSEROSO 91 
 
 5. Idle brain (empty, hence not properly occupied), is naturally op- 
 posed "to fixed mind" as a suitable abode for "vain deluding 
 Joys;" it mu>t also be set beside the ■uncouth cell " of L'Aiiegro, 
 which suggests the query raised in the comment on 1. 6. 
 
 G. Fancies fond, foolish fancies. This may be taken as an ex- 
 pansion of "idle braiu," making the passage read, "Dwell in some 
 idle brain and occupy (c/. the biblical use of posstus) foolish imagina- 
 tions with gaudy shapes ; ' or the Joys may be supposed to dwell in 
 " some idle braiu," like Melancholy in her " uncouth cell," and there 
 possess or have or occupy theiuselccs with foolish fancies of gaudy 
 shapes. The latter explanation affords a closer following of the 
 treatment in L' Alley fa, for it is what happens to the "Joys'" them- 
 selves, and not to foolish, cheerful people, that presumably concerns 
 the speaker of the apostrophe. The use of '' shapes," however, when 
 compared with its use in L'A/hyro U. 4j, as well as the employment 
 of " with,' of " gay in connection with " gaudy," and of " people " 
 in 1. y, may, perhaps, incline the balance in favor of the former inter- 
 pretation. But if, asWartou holds, Sylvester's de.scription of the Cave 
 of Sleep furnislied Milton with much of his imagery, there is still 
 something to be said lor the more concrete interpretation. The stu- 
 dent may make his choice, and may also look up the interesting his- 
 tory of the word '• fond." 
 
 7. Thick will limit " shapes" or " fancies," according to the view 
 taken of the meaning of 1. 6. Warton aptly quotes Chaucer's "As 
 thickke as motes in the sonnebeem." — Wife of Bdlh's Tide, 1. 868. 
 
 9. Likest. now practically obsolete as a superlative form of "like." 
 Cf. Vomns, 1. 237. It limits either "shapes" or "fancies," and re- 
 quires "to" to be understood after it. "dreams" being thus a da- 
 tive. 
 
 10. Pensioners, i.e., those who receive pensions, therefore a class 
 honorable or dishonorable according to the nature of the pension. 
 Queen Elizabeth's pensioners were a tall, handsome body of gentle- 
 men guards. Here the train of Morpheus, the god of sleep, are not re- 
 garded in a favorable light. American students may trace Ihe history of 
 the word at their leisure. Milton himself, it will be remembered, 
 was a pensioner at Christ's College, i.e., paid for his own "com- 
 mons." 
 
 11-30. In this passage Melancholy is hailed and her parentage 
 given. Critics have traced the influence upon Milton of Albrecht 
 Diirer's great engraving, Melancholia. 
 
 14. To hit the sense of human sight means of course that the human 
 eye cannot bear the glory of the "saintly visage" or countenance of 
 "divinest Melancholy." " To hit the sense of " seems to convey the 
 idea that in the exercise of any of our senses the object and the sub- 
 
92 NOTES 
 
 ject of sensation must come together in someway — i.e., hit each 
 other or not mm each other. (Jf. Comus, 1. 286, and Antony and 
 Cleopatra, II., ii., 217. 
 
 15. Weaker, is probably nothing more than what is known as the 
 absolute comparative, or comparative of eminence, just as divinest (1. 
 12) is a similar superlative. (.See Bain, Hujher English Grammar.) 
 It means then "rather weak," " too weak." An implied comparison 
 is also possibly to be discovered. Cf. 1. 140. 
 
 18. Prince Memnon's sister. Himera or Hemera {cf. the Greek 
 T)fX€ija, day), mentioned by Dictys Cretensis, DeBeih Trojano, lib. vi. . 
 c. 10. No mention is made of her beauty, but she would be, the 
 poet thinks, at least equally beautiful in common estimation ("in es- 
 teem ") with her dark-skinned brother Memuon, son of Tithonus and 
 Aurora, and king of the " blameless Ethiopians." He fought among 
 the allies of Troy and was noted lor his prowess and beauty, but fell, 
 nevertheless, before the might of Achilles. Odys., xi., 522. For the 
 story about Memnon's statue, see Class. Bid. 
 
 19. That starred Ethiop queen. The mention of one lovely Ethiopian, 
 whom black beseemed or suited, recalls another, i.e., Cassiopea, wife 
 of Cepheus, who offended the Nereids by boasting that her beauty, or, 
 as some legends say, that of her daughter Andromeda, exceeded theirs 
 The story of the ravaging of Ethiopia by a sea monster and tlie resci-.e 
 of Andromeda by Perseus has been a favorite subject for poets and 
 artists. See Charles Kingsley's Andromeda. Both mother and daugh- 
 ter were after death placed among the constellations, hence Milton's 
 epithet "starred." Cf., as to the beauty of blackness, Shakspere's 
 later sonnets, especially cxxvii. 
 
 21. Powers is here used to represent the sea-nymphs themselves, 
 not their faculties. Bell compares the Latin numina, divinities, 
 majesties. 
 
 23. Vesta, goddess of the chaste hearth, and Saturn, promoter of 
 civilization, are fit parents for " divinest Melancholy." as she is con- 
 ceived by II Penseroso. The student should look up the story of Sat- 
 urn and the word "Saturnine," as well as read the description in the 
 opening of Keatss Hyperion. The expressions " Saturn's reign " and 
 " no fear of Jove " will thus be easily explained. Long of yore, long 
 ago. 
 
 25. SJw. Supply " was," not " being." 
 
 27. See Skeat for the history of the forms " oft " and " often." 
 
 29. Ida, is here probably the Cretan, not the Trojan, mountain. 
 Cf. Paradise Lost, i., 515. 
 
 31-60. These lines continue the invocation and describe the com- 
 panions of Melancholy. The mention of the nightingale (11. 56-60) 
 serves as a transition to the pleasures of the evening. 
 
IL PENSEROSO 93 
 
 32. These adjectives are plainly intended to form a contrast to the 
 " buxom, blithe, and debonair " of DAUegro; their derivations should 
 be sought for. Exquisitely chosen as they are, there is still more 
 beauty in the phrase "pensive Nun," fraught as it is with religious 
 and poetical associations. Demure, modest, but here in an unassumed 
 way. 
 
 33. All is best explained as an adverb modifying the following 
 phrase. It may, however, be an adjective. Darkest grain, purple. 
 The history of "grain" in its application to colors, as in the phrase 
 "to dye in grain," should be traced in Skeat. 
 
 35. This line and that following may be thus paraphrased : "Come 
 with a black hood, or veil of very fine crape drawn over thy comely 
 shoulders." Sable is used with reference to the color of that ani- 
 mal's fur. For stole, now used of an ecclesiastical vestment, see 
 dictionary. Cypress, a word of unknown origin, but often confused 
 with Cyprus, where the material was supposed to be made, was a 
 kind of crape ; lawn adds the idea of fine quality, being literally a 
 sort of fine linen. Decent is probably a reminiscence of the Latin 
 (leeens (cf. Horace, Odes. I., iv., 6). and is hardly to be rendered ade- 
 quately in prose. " Decent because covered," as Warton explained 
 it, smacks too much of a petty puritanism. Cf. Nat. Ode, 1. 220. 
 
 37. Wonted, accustomed. See note to Comus, 1. 332. State, stately 
 bearing. 
 
 38. Commercing, communing, with no thought of the modern busi- 
 ness use of the word, which as a rule now appears as a noun only. 
 Cf. Tennyson's Walking to the .Vail, cited by Verity. 
 
 43. Compare with this line the following from Milton's On Shak- 
 spere, " Dost make us marble with too much conceiving." The idea 
 is common in poetry ; ef. the legend of Niobe. 
 
 43. Cast is here a noun and roughly equal to " turning " of the eyes. 
 Leaden seems to refer not to color, as some editors hold, but to weight 
 or heaviness. Sad, i.e., serious. Cf. Comus, 1. 189, Paradise Lost, 
 vi., 541. 
 
 44. Them refers of course to the eyes, in which the absorbed or 
 ravished ("rapt") soul sits while Melancholy is communing with 
 heaven. In this condition (" there "). lield spellbound by the holy 
 thoughts that influence her ("holy passion "'), she is bidden by the 
 poet to " forget herself to marble," nntil turning her heavy eyes- 
 downward to the earth, she fixes them there as firmly as she had for- 
 merly done on the skies. Fix, subjunctive after " till," which is 
 frequent in Milton. 
 
 4G. -Spare Fast. We have here one of Milton's numerous and fine 
 tributes to the virtue of temperate abstinence, i.e., the higher side of 
 his puritanism comes out. Cf. Eleg., vi. Living with high thoughta 
 
94 NOTES 
 
 and reading the great poets was Milton .s own way of 'dieting with 
 the gods, ' and hearing the 
 
 "Muses in a ring, 
 Aye [continually] round about Jove's altar sing." 
 
 The reference seems to be to the opening of Hesiod's Theogony, 
 wliere the Muses of Helicon dance around the altar of their father 
 Zeus. (See note to Lycid., 1. 15.) The same idea occurs in one of 
 Milton's Latin prolusions (Warton). The Muses are generally associ- 
 ated with Apollo. Cf. M. Arnold's 
 
 " 'Tis Apollo comes leading 
 His choir, the Nine." 
 
 50. Trim, see note to DAUeg., 1. 75. 
 
 51. First and chief est. Cf. our expression " first and foremost," i.e., 
 before all things, above all. The superlatives may, however, be re- 
 garded as adjectives limiting "him" or "Cherub " The line intro- 
 duces a "daring use, ' in Professor Masson's words, of the vision in 
 Eaekiel, chapter x, "The Cherub Contemplation " seems to be due 
 to Milton's own lofty imagination playing, as Verity has shown, upon 
 medisDval notions of the heavenly hierarchies, in which tlie cherubim 
 had the special faculty of "knowledge and contemplation of divine 
 things." Gray may have had these sublime verses in his mind wlien 
 he paid his noble tribute to Milton in The Progress of Poesy, begin- 
 ning— 
 
 "Nor second he, that rode sublime 
 Upon the serapli wings of ecstasy. " 
 
 52. Ton, yonder. See Skeat. 
 
 55. Hist along, a very expressive and poetical use of an interjection 
 as a verb in the imperative, the idea being that Silence is to be led 
 along by means of the alluring repetition of the only sound she can 
 naturally love to hear, a sound enjoining quiet and repose. "Hist" 
 seems to some a participle. 
 
 56. Less, etc. "Unless the nightingale will grant a song." The 
 well-known reference is to Philomela, daughter of King Pandion of 
 Attica, who was changed into a nightingale at her own entreaty, tliat 
 she might escape the lust of Tereus, her brother in law. Cf. Barn- 
 field's "As it fell upon a Day," and Swinburne's lines in Atalanta in 
 Caiydon : 
 
 " And the brown-bright nightingale amorous 
 Is half-assuaged for Itylus, 
 For the Thracian ships and the foreign faces, 
 The tougueless vigil, and all the pain." 
 
IL PENSEROSO 95 
 
 Curiously enough the greatest tribute to tlie bird by the most Greek 
 of modern poets, the famous Ode of Keats, does not make use of a 
 legend which but for its perennial beauty would deserve to be called 
 a poetical commonplace. 
 
 57. Plight is taken by editors to mean either •' strain " or " mood," 
 "condition." The latter meaning seems preferable, on the whole. 
 If " strain " be meant, the use of "in " seems to join the whole line 
 closely to that preceding ; whereas if " mood" be meant, the line is 
 more closely joined to that following, which, to my ear, produces a 
 much better metrical effect. The use of " with" would have settled 
 the matter. Cf. TJie Pamon^ 1. 14. 
 
 58. Vf. Comus, 1. 251. 
 
 59. The moon halts above the oak frequented by the nightin- 
 gale, that she may listen to the latter's song. The whole passage 
 is highly imaginative, especially 1. 58. Dragon poke is rather mod- 
 ern than classical, Ceres having the best claim to the epithet. See 
 note to Comus, 1. 131. Cynthia (cf. Cynthius, i.e., Apollo) is a name 
 of Artemis, derived from Mt. Cynthus in Delos, where she was 
 born. See Class. Diet. 
 
 60-84. This passage describes the pleasures of the evening spent 
 in-doors and out. D Allegro begins its descriptions with the early 
 morning and tlie lark ; II Penseroso with the evening and the night- 
 ingale. 
 
 61. Ifoise can hardly mean "revels" or "music," both of which 
 have been suggested. It seems rather to sum up the babel, the con- 
 fused sounds of the light-minded bustling world, which a bird loving 
 solitude would naturally shun. 
 
 63. Among. The postpo-sitive preposition is often poetically ef- 
 fective. 
 
 6.5. Umeen. From the use of this word, which is deliberately 
 negatived in L' Allegro (1. 57), it has been argued tliat 11 Penseroso was 
 the earlier written poem. As it undoubtedly represents Milton's tem- 
 perament more nearly, it would probably find prior development and 
 utterance ; but the matter is one of little importance. Milton may, 
 indeed, have intended his negation in D Allegro to apply to the " un- 
 seen " of Burton's poem — (juoted in the note to L'Alleg., 1. 57, al- 
 though this is unlikely. 
 
 67. Wandering moon. The nightingale suggests the moon just as 
 the lark the sun {L'AUeg., 1. 41 and 1. 60). " Wandering" is de- 
 rived from classical poetry. Cf. Horace Sat., I. , viii., 21, "vaga luna." 
 Browne quotes appropriately Sidney's famous sonnet and Shelley's 
 query, "Art thou pale for weariness?" Shakspere, however, has 
 surpassed all poets, even Milton in this noble passage, by the liquid 
 perfection of two lines in JiFid. Night's Dream, II., i., 163-64. 
 
06 NOTES 
 
 " But the imperial votaress passed on, 
 In maiden meditation, fancy free." 
 
 A good example of an exquisite description in the simplest of terms 
 is furnished by Horace's Epodes, xv. , 1-2 : 
 
 ' ' Nox erat et caelo f ulgebat luna sereno 
 Inter minora sidera." 
 
 68. This line seems to imply that the moon is "riding" nearly at 
 the highest positien it attains in the heavens, rather than that it is 
 nearly full. 
 
 72. Stooping. Milton uses this expressive word in the same connec- 
 tion in Comus, 1. 393. 
 
 73. Plat, plot, a patch of ground. 
 
 74. GurfeiD (from the French couvre-feu, fire-cover), the bell that 
 sounded about eight or nine o'clock in the evening to warn inhabi- 
 tants of towns and villages to put out fires and lights as a preventive 
 against conflagrations and nocturnal disorders. The custom of ringing 
 the curfew dates at least to the reign of the Conqueror, if not further 
 back. It is still rung at nine o'clock in some places, though no longer 
 required by law {Cent. Diet.). The first verse of Gray's Elegy is the 
 best known reference to it in literature. 
 
 75. Wide-watered shore, i.e., the shore bounding some wide water. 
 Much conjecture has been spent over what sort of " water " Milton 
 meant. It seems to be an inlet of the sea, across which the sound of 
 the curfew, " Swinging slow with sullen roar," is borne to the poet on 
 his knoll. The knoll might possibly be on the same side of the water 
 with the bell, but the use of " roar " seems to indicate that the soiind 
 of billows mingles with that of the curfew. L. 76 would go very 
 well with some such word as " billows," " breakers," or '' tide," but 
 as it stands there is practically nothing to do but to make it limit 
 " curfew." 
 
 78. Removed, as frequently among our older poets, is equivalent to 
 " remote." 
 
 79. The phenomenon here described is familiar enough — the 
 "glowing embers" make "darkness visible." {Cf. Paradise Lost, 
 i., 63.) When, however, the expressions " teach light" and "coun- 
 terfeit a gloom" are closely analyzed, it will be found that here, as 
 frequently, we must content ourselves with the suggestiveness of a 
 poet's language in lieu of any sharp definiteness of the concepts con- 
 veyed. ThrovgTi the room modifies " counterfeit." 
 
 82. Hearth rhymes perfectly with "mirth." 
 
 83. This line and the following refer to the watchmen who used to 
 
//. PENSER080 dT 
 
 patrol streets and lanes on the lookout for evil-doers. To increase 
 their own comfort and that of the community, but hardly their use- 
 fulness, they would sing scraps of pious poetry or popular " charms." 
 Shakspere's Dogberry, in Much Ado About Nothing^ is the immortal 
 type of these functionaries, who are not without counterparts in mod- 
 ern America. 
 
 84. Nightly, nocturnal (an adjective which Milton uses ; cf. Comus, 
 1. 128). 
 
 85-120. This passage is devoted to the, pleasures of midnight for 
 the serious student of philosoptiy, tragedy, and great poetry. Com- 
 pare the description of L'AUegro's reading. 
 
 86. A fine touch has been seen in this line, by Wartou and others, 
 owing to the fact that it is assumed that Milton means that some one 
 will be outside to see the light gleaming from his turret room. If he 
 had used "from" instead of "in," his meaning would have been 
 plainer. As the lines stand, they may be but a poetical way of saying 
 that he wishes to find himself at midnight in his retired study with 
 his lamp lit and his books around liim. The query arises why he 
 emphasizes his solitude in 11. 65. 78, 81, 83, and fails to do so here. 
 
 87. Outwatch the Bear, keep studying till daybreak, as the "Great 
 Bear does not set below the horizon in northern latitudes, and only 
 vanishes on account of the daylight " (Bell). 
 
 88. Thrice great Hermes. Hermes Trismegistus, a mythical Egyp- 
 tian philosopher or king, confounded by the Greeks with their god 
 Hermes. The Neo-Platonists made him the source of their philos- 
 sophy. His books here referred to were forgeries of the fourth cen- 
 tury A.D. Or unsphere, etc. The meaning of the passage that follows 
 seems to be that through the reading of his works " the spirit of Plato" 
 can be unsphered, ^. e., brought from the unseen world back to this, 
 and persuaded " to unfold " the secrets of the abode wherein the freed 
 soul resides, as well as those of the world of the " demons" who pre- 
 side over planets and elements. Of course, the phrase "spirit of Plato " 
 should not be taken to mean that Milton intended to raise a ghost. 
 
 91. Forsook, the preterite form used for the past participle, as fre- 
 quently in Elizabethan writers. 
 
 92. This line is a poetical equivalent for "body," unless "man- 
 sion" be taken, as with some editors, to mean " temporary abode " 
 (Latin manere), in which case " fleshly nook" is equivalent to body. 
 
 93. Qfis about equivalent to " with respect to." Demons is prob- 
 ably meant to suggest a fusion of the Platonic daimona and the 
 mediaeval demons or spirits, some of whom were planetary and some 
 elemental. The element of 1. 90 is not the modern chemical element, 
 but refers to the divisions of matter recognized by the Greek philos- 
 ophers and practically given in 1. 94. 
 
 ' 7 . 
 
98 NOTES 
 
 95. Consent, a feeling with, a true relation with. Augels or spirits 
 are frequently represented as presiding over tlie planets. 
 
 97. Sometime hardly seems to differ here from " sometimes. " See 
 note to VAUeg., 1. 57. 
 
 98. Sceptred pall, either " in royal mantle," or, as has been sug- 
 gested by Professor Hales, "with sceptre and pall." Tragedy, deal- 
 ing much with kings and queens, might well wear their insignia 
 The use of "sweeping" seems to lay a stress on "pall ' that tells 
 against the second interpretation. 
 
 99. Greek ti-agedies were chiefly concerned with the house of CEdi- 
 pus in Thebes, with the descendants of Pelops, i.e., Agamemnon and 
 his family, and with various heroes of the Trojan war, e.g., Ajax. 
 
 101. Shakspere's tragedies are of course included here. 
 
 103. Buskined. See note to L'Alleg., 133. 
 
 104. MuscBUS, a semi or wholly mythological Greek poet. Bo.wer is 
 probably equivalent to "shaded retreat." See note to L'Alleg., 1. 87. 
 Cf. also the reference to the " bed of heaped Elysian flowers" on 
 which Orpheus reposed, L'Allrg., 11. 14G-47. 
 
 109. Him, etc., i.e., Chaucer : The reference is to his unfinished or 
 partly lost Squires Tale, which had to do with C'ambus Khan 
 (Chaucer has " Cambinskau "), the "Tartar King," whose two sons 
 and daughter are named by Milton. See the Canterbury Tales. The 
 tale was continued by Spenser, F. Q , IV., ii , iii. Editors who try 
 to explain why Chaucer is included among the "great bards" may 
 be answered that he is there because he is a great bard, and because 
 Milton must have loved him Further reasons are superfluous and 
 not to be substantiated. 
 
 113. jT/irtY refers to Canace ; the husband who had her " to wife " 
 is not specified clearly, as Chaucer speaks of Cambalo's fighting for 
 her. Hence critics have supposed that there was a second Cambalo. 
 not her brother, or that the scribes made a mistake. But Spenser's 
 solution of tlie difliculty is a possible one, and the student should 
 read it if only for the sake of the famous tribute which Spenser paid 
 to Chaucer. Virtuous, having remarkable properties {cf. Gomxis, 1. 
 165). In this case the ring enabled its wearer to understand the talk 
 of birds and the healing qualities of plants. The glass was the famil- 
 iar magic mirror that figures in romance and poetry. The " liorse of 
 brass " suggests the Arabian Nights, 
 
 116. Great bards. Ariosto, Tasso, Boiardo, and Spenser would 
 certainly come under this head. LI. 118-119 would seem to indicate 
 that Dante, greater than any of these, was not in Milton's mind when 
 he wrote. He appears to refer rather to what may be termed the 
 great chivalric poets, and so Browne's surprise that Dante "finds no 
 place in this catalogue " is unwarranted. 
 
IL PEN8ER0S0 99 
 
 118. Turnfya, tournaments. TropJiies, tlie arms or banners of a 
 vanqniTslied foe hung up as a siyn of victory. The student should 
 trace the derivation of the word. 
 
 120. This line refers to the moral or allegorical character of the 
 work of these poets, especially Spenser. This side of their work 
 would naturally appeal to Milton, because of his serious nature, and 
 becaiise he stood nearer than we do to the Middle Ages of which, as 
 has been well said, allegory was " a disease." A great modern poet, 
 Tenny.son. has, in his hlylls of IheKimj, composed a poem to which 
 11. 116-120 are very applicable, but the allegorical element does not 
 appeal to us as it might perhaps have done to Milton and his contem- 
 poraries. 
 
 121-130. This passage describes the pleasures of a stormy morning, 
 with which compare the more atti'active description ir V AUegro (11. 
 41-68), especially the lines about the sun (11. 60-63). 
 
 122. (Uril-snited is opposed by "tricked and frounced" {i.e., in 
 fine clothes and with curled hair , and contrasted to the great sun's 
 " state " in I' Allegro, vihere \.\\e cXowds wear lircries. Here Morning 
 has on the plain garb of a citizen. Warton aptly cites Shakspere, 
 Bo7n. and Jul., III., ii., 10-11 ; 
 
 " Come, civil night, 
 Thou sober-suited matron, all in black." 
 
 ^-> 
 
 123. With tricked, cf. Lyckl, 1. 170. TFora/, accustomed. Cf. 1. 37. 
 
 124. Attic boy. Cephalus beloved by Aurora. See Class. Dirt, for 
 the story of the love trials of himself and his wife Procris. 
 
 125. KercJdeft. " A square piece of cloth used to cover the head ; 
 and later, for other purposes " (Skeat) was called a kerchief from the 
 French couvre-chef. cover head {cf. curfew). The force of the last 
 syllable was forgotten when the compound hand-kercJuef came into use 
 
 126. Piping hud, whistling .shrilly and loudly. The epithet is fre- 
 quently used in connection with the wind. 
 
 127. Still, probably used here for "gentle" (Browne); an adver- 
 bial use is barely possible. 
 
 128. llitt, its ; the possessive case of the neuter pronoun was rarely 
 employed by Milton, although it became common by the end of the 
 seventeenth century. See Lounsbury, pp 165-67. 
 
 130. Minute drop.'i. (f. minute-guns. Drops from the eaves fol- 
 lowing at slow and regular intervals of a minute or so. 
 
 131-150. These lines describe the pleasures of a retreat into a forest 
 from the noonday heat, and of the sleep that there overtakes the 
 student who has outwatched the Bear. 
 
 134. Milton uses hroion, the Italian bruno, for "dark." (Keightley, 
 
100 NOTES 
 
 quoted by Browne.) Of. Pope, Eloina to Abelard, 1. 170: "And 
 breathes a browner horror on the woods." Sylvan, Sylvanns, the god 
 of woods and fields in Roman mjtliology. For the abbreviation, see 
 note to Lydd., 1. 151. 
 
 135. Monumental conveys the idea of a memorial of olden times as 
 well as of massive endurance. Editors have suggested comparison 
 with Chaucer's and Spenser's " builder oak." 
 
 136. The epithets are interchanged (chiasmus). 
 
 139. Covert, thicket. 
 
 140. Profaner. This may be tlie absolute comparative, but the 
 idea seems rather to be that Milton desires to be hidden where no 
 less sympathetic or initiated eye than his own may look. 
 
 141. Garixli, staring, i.e., the glaring sun, whose beams have been 
 previously described as "flaring." Cf- the lines from Cardinal New- 
 man's famous hymn, " Lead, kindly Light : " 
 
 " I loved the garish day ; and, spite of fears, 
 Pride ruled my will : remember not past years." 
 
 Cf. also Sophocles, Antigone, 103: "5 XP^*^^"-^ a/j-epas p\('<{>apov," "O 
 eye of golden day!" Cf. Comus, 1.978; Lycid., 1. 26; Spenser, F. 
 e.,I.,iii.,4. 
 
 142. Honeyed thigh. The bee collects pollen on its thigh. Milton 
 may have thought it collected honey, but it seems more likely that he 
 did not intend to give such a literal interpretation to a very pretty 
 and poetic epithet. See note to Lycid., 1. 140. 
 
 145. Consort. This word conveys the idea of a partner (unless Mil- 
 ton confused it with concert, as was sometimes done). The meaning 
 of the line seems, therefore, to be that sounds consonant with the 
 murmuring of waters and the humming of bees are to join with these 
 in inducing sleep. Cf. Nat. Ode, 1. 132. They may refer to 
 ■' waters" or to " waters " and "bee." 
 
 146. Deicy feathered was a favorite epithet with O. E. poets when 
 describing birds, especially those of prey. Cf. Judith, 1. 210: 
 
 " Earn aetes georn urigfethera." 
 
 "The eagle eager for food— the dewy-feathered." 
 
 Professor Cook suggests that Milton may have borrowed his epithet 
 from this or some other O. E. poem. This is uncertain, and there is 
 surely much poetic force in the idea that the god of sleep may be sup- 
 posed to shake dew from his wings, especially as " dew of sleep " and 
 "dew of peace" are familiar expressions. Cf. Paradise Lost, iv., 
 614. 
 
IL PENSEBOSO 101 
 
 147. The passage here introduced is so obscure that it has occa- 
 sioned editors considerable trouble. Some hold that a dream waves 
 or moves to and fro at the wings of sleep and so hovers over the 
 sleeper "in an airy stream of vivid images portrayed upon his mental 
 eye" (Bell). Others take "his wings" to refer to the dream, not to 
 sleep ; this compels them to reckon with a queer use of the expres- 
 sion "wave at." The participle "displayed," however, if taken to 
 mean "extended wide," seems to agree very well with " wings," and 
 if the wings are extended wide "in airy stream of lively portrait- 
 ure," they should be the dream's wings. If this view be adopted, we 
 may conceive the poet to mean that the wings of the dream are softly 
 laid on the sleeper's eyelids, and there, extended wide, are fluttered 
 {i.e., waved at), each flutter, perhaps, causing a change in the vision 
 presented. But "displayed" and "laid" may not limit "wings," 
 and so the student, as in all tliese difficult cases, must make his own 
 choice. It may be noted, however, that " dewy-feathered " applied 
 to sleep does not necessarily deprive the dream of wings or of func- 
 tion, for sleep is evidently to shake the dew of slumber from his 
 wings, and then the dream is to play his part. Cf. Fairy Queen., I., 
 i., 44, Jonson's Vision of Deligld (quoted by Verity) and Paradise 
 Lost, viii., 292. For "wings displayed," see Nat. Ode, 1. 114. 
 
 151-176. In these lines music awakens the sleeper, which is the re- 
 verse of the case in D Allegro, and he begins to aspire to loftier 
 heights than the more cheerful man ever dreams of. The poem 
 closes with an acceptance of Melancholy if she will give such pleas- 
 ures. 
 
 151. Breathe. Either an imperative with Melancholy for subject 
 and " music " for object ; or an optative with " music " for subject ; or 
 an infinitive after " let " understood. The second supposition seems 
 to me preferable, as it sorts better with a proper understanding of 
 11. 153-4. See note to 1. 154. 
 
 153. Good limits "Spirit," the second i in which should be slurred. 
 
 154. Genius. The root-meaning of this variously used word is 
 found in the Latin, gignere, to beget ; hence the idea of inborn nat- 
 ure, or the "tutelar spirit of a person." It is easy to pass, as the an- 
 cients did, to the conception of a divinity presiding over a person, 
 place, or natural object. Then we get the idea of a guardian angel or 
 spirit, which is what Milton means here. See the full discussion of 
 the word in the Century Dictionary. Unseen suggests a sense of mys- 
 tery which enhances the beauty of the lines describing the music 
 breathing "above, about, or underneath" — a sense of mystery and 
 beauty which is somewhat impaired if we conceive that the poet re- 
 quests Melancholy to breathe the music for him. 
 
 155. Due feet. Cf. the familiar phrase, to be due at such a place or 
 
102 NOTES 
 
 time. The feet of II Penseroso would natinally be expected to pace 
 regularly the " studious cloister's pale. 
 
 156. Walk is nearly equivalent to "■ pace,"' which ivlilton could hardly 
 have employed without too great use of alliteration. Let the sludeut 
 note the alliteration in 1. 155, then substitute "pace' lor "walk." 
 and ob.serve liow Milton has avoided a specious jiugUv Cloixter ,s is 
 T. Warton's admirable emendation for cl>/ifiterfi—t\m word signifying 
 an enclosure for purposes of religious or educational seclusion. As 
 pale also conveys this idea of a place shut in by pales (cf. puluiy), it 
 is perhaps fair to assume that Milton had some concrete conception 
 of cloister in liis mind that involved no tautology ; and as the next lines 
 refer plainly to religions edifices, and we are also given the epithet 
 " studious to guide us, we cau hardly refrain fiom believing that 
 the poet had in mind the covered walks of C'ambridgi'. 
 
 158. Antique. Milton wrote antirk, which may have meant • orna- 
 mented." In L' Allegro, 1. 128 he hius untique in its modern sense. 
 It is hard to say which meaning he intended here (Verity). See 
 Skeat. Massy proof, i.e., the pillars, being massive, are proof against 
 the weight of the stone roof. Browne reads niassy-pmof, i.e., proof 
 against the mass they bear, and compares "star-proof," Arcadex. 1. 
 89. Bell shows that the use of an adjective in place of a noun in this 
 and similar expressions favors the first interpretation. The matter is 
 of slight moment, and is here dwelt on merely to show that for the 
 finer points of criticism even the most minute philological and rhe- 
 torical investigations are not witliout value. Massy occurs again in 
 Lycid, 1. 110. 
 
 159. Storied used with reference to the stories (or histoHes) from 
 the Bible represented on the stained glass of the windows. Cf.., 
 Gray's " Can storied urn or animated bust " and Horace's "fabulosus 
 — Hydaspes." (Odes, I., xxii., 7-8.) The lines refer to no building 
 that can be definitely named. The phrase "dim religious liglit " 
 (i.e., light that prompts to religious meditation) seems, however, to 
 suit Westminster Abbey very well. 
 
 162. Quire is often spelt choir. 
 
 163. Clear, clearly sung ; but cf. note to Lycid., 1. 70. 
 
 164. As is a relative pronoun, its usual antecedent " such " being 
 omitted. This whole magnificent passage is a convincing proof of the 
 high and lofty character of Milton's puritanism. It further throws 
 light upon his artistic and emotional nature, the effects of noble ec- 
 clesiastical architecture and of solemn music having never been bet- 
 ter described than in that wonderful phrase "dissolve me into 
 ecstasies," which those who have a mind prone to anal^'sis may study 
 out with the aid of an etymological dictionary. Masson notes that 
 here alone in the poem is II Penseroso in contact with his fellow-creat- 
 
C0MU8 103 
 
 ures, a fact which is involved iu the primary meaning of the word 
 religion. Wartou and Browne, like maralls, refer to Milton's ridi- 
 cule iu EikoHoklastes of the organ and singing men of the kings 
 chapel. But since the days of Job it has been known that religious 
 and political controversies are like pitch, and that not even a Milton 
 can touch them without being defiled. They have to be touched, yet 
 the fact need not be always remembered. 
 
 169. Hairy gown. The reference is scarcely to a penitential gar- 
 ment, but to the coarse robes worn by holy men of old. (jf. Comus, 
 1. 390, in the MS., not the printed form. That II Penseroso should 
 finally retii-e from the company of his fellows, even in matters of 
 religion, to a peaceful hermitage, is fitting enough if the character 
 of the man be considered, for that character, though noble, is one- 
 sided. Milton s own life closed in similar though not complete retire- 
 ment. Compare with the ideal here expressed the active interest in 
 all things pertaining to the present manifested by Mr. Gladstone in 
 his old age. 
 
 ITU. JSpell, of course, suggests the slow reading of children, and in 
 the mouth of 11 Penseroso implies thought. It seems, however, to 
 connote study by observation rather than by reading, and taken in 
 connection witli the phrase "prophetic strain," conveys a sense of 
 dealing with mysterious powers (cf. the use of the word in magic), al- 
 though it must not be supposed that IMilton meant more than to refer 
 to tlie familiar idea that, as our bodily senses are purified, our faculties, 
 trained as they are by "old experience," look more clearly and calmly 
 into the future. 
 
 171. Shew must in reading be made to rhyme with "dew." Cf. 
 Comus, 11. 994-7. Milton's fondness for botanical studies with Dio- 
 dati seems to be indicated in the Epitaphiian Damonin, I. 150, and 
 Gonms, 1. 620 seq. 
 
 175. This line compared with LWllrg., 1. 151, shows that Milton 
 has less doubt as to Melancholy's ability to give her appropriate pleas- 
 ures, than he has of Mirths ability to give her lighter and more easily 
 obtained enjoyments. 
 
 COMUS 
 
 1-92. This scene, opening in a wild wood, serves the masque as a 
 prologue, the speech of the .\ttendant Spirit (a part taken by Lawes, 
 and perhaps suggested by the Satyr of Fletcher'.s FnitJifnl Shej>herd- 
 es8, itself in turn taken from the Aminta and U Pfi.s(or Fi<fo) arousing 
 the interest of the audience and giving them an insight into the 
 plot. As drama such a soliloquy is not particularly effective, but as 
 poetry one can ask for nothing better. Cf. the speech of the watch- 
 
104 NOTES 
 
 man that opens the A(jamcmnon of Aeschylus ; in lighter vein, that 
 of Love in Tasso's Aminta, which Milton may possibly have had in 
 mind, although such a prologue is more distincavely Euripidean. 
 The verse-form used is dramatic blank verse of admirable quality, re- 
 dundant syllables being employed to a much greater extent than in 
 Paradise Lost. Dr. Johnson and Mr. Saintsbury are right in holding 
 that organically the blank verse of Comus is practically that of the 
 later and greater poem, for this only means that Milton began by us- 
 ing the free "verse paragraph," and ended by using it, a statement 
 which implies no special praise after the success of Marlowe and 
 Shakspere in freeing blank verse from the '"tyranny of the couplet 
 form." In technical finish, however, Paradise Lost seems to mark a 
 decided advance over Comus ; there is a greater variety of harmonies, 
 a greater surge and sweep of the rhythm. Much of this effect is doubt- 
 less due to the development of Milton's style, which is straightfor- 
 ward on the whole in Comus, complex and magnificently involved in 
 Paradise Lost. Style is not exempt from the working of the laws of 
 evolution, and indeed Comus, with all its nobility and beauty, was 
 not a work capable of bearing the strain of the "grand style" at its 
 height. But solviiur ambuUaido— let the student analyze the opening, 
 or any other passages of the two poems, and he will probably conclude 
 that while such lines as 
 
 " — nor of less faith 
 And in this office of his mountain watch 
 Likeliest, and nearest to the present aid 
 Of this occasion ' (11. 89-91) 
 
 undoubtedly foreshadow the rhythm and diction of the greater poem ; 
 such lines as 
 
 " And here their tender age might suffer peril, 
 But that by quick command from sovran Jove 
 I was despatched for their defense and guard "(11. 40-42); 
 or, 
 
 " (Who knows not Circe, 
 The daughter of the Sun, whose charmed cup 
 Whoever tasted lost his upright shape. 
 And downward fell into a grovelling swine ? ") (11. 50-54), 
 
 beautiful as the latter passage unquestionably is. show the diction and 
 movement of a poet who, while already great in promise, is plainly 
 feeling for his matured style. What, by the way, is to be said of such 
 a line as 
 
 "All other parts remaining as they were ?" (1. 72). 
 
GOMUS 105 
 
 2. Mansion. See note to II Pens., 1. 93. Shapes. See nute to 
 DAllg., 1. 4; c/. i^. Pens., 1. 6. 2%<?se helps the verse metrically, 
 and conveys the idea of '' well-known." Cf. "that" in Lycid., 1. 71 
 (Bell). 
 
 3. Insphered probably signifies " each in his proper sphere," which 
 may include a reference to the notion that angels had control of the 
 spheres as well as to the spheres of space of the Ptolemaic system, 
 which Milton, for poetical purposes at least, seems to adhere to. See 
 Cent. Diet. Of. 11. Pens., 1. 88. 
 
 4. Note the exquisite epithets in this verse, which seems reminis- 
 cential of the Homeric description of the calm abode of the gods 
 (Odi/s., vi, 42-45). The pronunciation " serene " is an example of 
 recessive accent not infrequent in Comus{cf. 11. 11, 37, 273, 421, etc.), 
 but far less characteristic of Pamdise Lost., as Mr. Bridges has shown. 
 In the Cambridge MS. this line is followed by fourteen verses, which 
 Milton, with his customary good taste, rejected, reserving, however, 
 a pretty reference to the "Hesperian gardens" for more beautiful 
 treatment later in the masque. Of. U. 393-95; 98U-83. 
 
 5. Often quoted. Dim when viewed from the ''starry threshold." 
 
 6. The construction is awkward. If "in which " be understood be- 
 fore the phrase " with low-thoughted care" (see note to f/Allg., 1. 8), 
 some confu.sion is wrought with the phrase " in this pinfold here." 
 Fortunately the meaning is clear. 
 
 7. Pi.'<tered, clogged, cramped (Fr., empetnr, to clog a horse at pas- 
 ture). Pinfold, pound or enclosure for stray cattle. See Skeat. 
 
 10. Moii/tl change, i.e., the change that comes to mortals — death. 
 Any other interpretation seems strained, though Browne's suggestion 
 that " change" may be used metaphorically in its old sense of a figure 
 in a dance is worth noting. 
 
 11. A noble verse in rhythm and diction. The scriptural tone of 
 the passage is noticeable. See Revelation iv. 
 
 12. Be is indicative, as frequently in Elizabethan English. For 
 due, see note to 11. Pens., 1. 155. 
 
 13. K<y. See note to Lycid., 1. 110. 
 
 16. Pure ambrosial loeeds. a phrase wjiich loses nearly all its beauty 
 when it appears in the prosaic form of "unstained heavenly gar- 
 ments." Ambro.sia was the food of the gods. For ^rccr/s see note to 
 L Allen., 1. 120. Mdd, in the next verse refers to this earth. 
 
 20. By lot refers to the well-known story of the distribution of Sat- 
 urn's empire among his sons : Jupiter getting heaven ; Pluto, Hades ; 
 and Neptune, the sea. The phrase ^twixt high and nether Jove, i.e., 
 between Jupiter and Pluto, if cut off by commas, seems to limit 
 "took." If the comma be inserted between "in" and "by," as is 
 done by some editors, the phrase limits "lot." 
 
1 06 NOTES 
 
 21. Sea-girt istts. It is usual and natural to compare with this fine 
 passage John o' Gaunt's description of England in Rk'Ji. If. (II., i., 40 
 seq.), which, great as it is. would not resent the insertion of such a 
 verse as "The unadorned bosom of the deep," where unadorned 
 means "otherwise unadorned." 
 
 25. By course, in regular order. Several, separate. Cf. the legal 
 term, "severalty." 
 
 29. Quarters may, as Bell holds refer simply to a general division, 
 but if the "blue-haired deities " as the same editor thinks, are dis- 
 tinct from the "tributary gods" (contrast 11. 27 and 31), it is best 
 to give the word its usual meaning. The four parts would refer to 
 the governments at London and Edinburgh and those of the Lords 
 President of the North and of Wales (Keightley. quoted by Bell. Bell 
 aptly cites Ovid's caeridei dii in defense of the epithet •' blue-haired," 
 which seems to have been regularly employed in this connection in 
 the masques of the period. 
 
 31. Mickli\ great. Cf. the Scotch use of the same word, and see Skeat. 
 
 32. Has. Milton does not use this form often. See note to 1. 421. 
 Tempered awe, i.e., the fear inspired by the Lord President is 
 tempered with justice and mercy. The next line is a magnificent 
 tribute to the subjects of the Earl, viz., the Welsh. Milton's interest 
 in the early Britons and their descendants was shown in many ways, 
 cliiefly in his proposed Arthurian epic (see Ejnt. Dam.. 1. 1G2 seq.) and 
 in his lILstoi-y of Britain. It may be noted that Miltou contrives to 
 compliment all the persons of importance present at the performance. 
 His compliments, by the way, are in far better taste than those Tasso 
 introduced into the Aminta. 
 
 34. Where, whither. 
 
 35. State may mean installation in the chair of state or may be 
 simply some general expression of consequence and dignity. Unless 
 the phrase " new-intrusted sceptre ' be taken in a concrete sense, the 
 latter meaning is the more probable. Ediiors note that the sceptre was 
 not exactly " new-intrusted " to the Earl. 
 
 37. Perplexed, entangled. 
 
 38. Horror. Bell is wrong when he connects this word with 
 "paths;" it plainly belongs to " brows," which as plainly belongs to 
 " drear wood," in the sense probably of overhanging branches. 
 
 41. But that. Were it not for the fact that. Sovran, sovereign. 
 See Skeat as to the g in this word. 
 
 45. Ha/l or boiter, banqueting-hall or lady's bower. There is no 
 likelihood that the poet intended to distinguish between the chambers 
 of lord and lady. See note to DAlleg., 1. S7. 
 
 46. Compare the genealogy invented for Coraus with those given 
 in L' Allegro and 11 Penseroso. Bacchus and Circe are very appropri- 
 
GOMUS 107 
 
 ate parents for the sensual divinity soon to lie described. Circe herself 
 is almost sufficiently depicted in the poem. Daughter of the sun and 
 an ocean nymph, she married a Colchian prince, whom she murdered 
 to obtain his kingdom, probably by means of a Colchian poison. Her 
 father conveyed her to Aeaea, an island off tlie coast of Italj^ where 
 she was visited by Ulysses and his companions By her enchantments 
 she turned the latter into swine, but Ulysses resisted her by means of 
 the magic herb moly, and secured his comrades' release, although 
 he himself succumbed to her lascivious blandishments for a time. 
 See Odys., x., and the sketch of Browne's Inner Temple Masque in 
 the Introductory Note. 
 
 48. Tuscan vtariners transformed. Referring to the story in the 
 Homeric Hymn to Bacchus and in Ovid (3/fi., iii., 660 scg.) of the 
 Etruscan or Tyrrhenian (1. 49) pirates, wlio, having Bacchus on board 
 their ship, resolved to sell him as a slave ; whereupon the god changed 
 the masts and oar.«i into snakes and the sailors into dolphins. {Cf. 
 the use of the dolphin in the Arion legend ; see note to Lydd.^ 1. 164.) 
 For a delightful study of the character of Bacchus or Dionysus, see 
 Walter Pater's OiCik S/>idiex. Transformed, a Latin use of the pas- 
 sive participle. Render either, " after the Tuscan mariners had been 
 transformed,'' or, " after the transformation of the Tuscan mariners." 
 (f. Horace, Od<s, I., iii., 29-30, 'Post ignem aetheria domo, Subduc- 
 tum macies," etc. 
 
 49. Coasting limits " Bacchus," who is the subject of " fell " (1. 50). 
 Tyrrhene shore, i.e., the west central shore of Italy, washed by the 
 Tyrrhene Sea, notorious for its pirates. Listed, pleased. Of. the 
 liiblical use, and see Skeat. 
 
 50. Circe's Mnnd. See note to 1. 46. For the .<< in "island" see 
 Skeat. The rhetorical question, "Who knows not Circe?" is a fa- 
 miliar poetic artifice. 
 
 51. Charmed cup. put by metonymy for tlie contained liquor, over 
 which charms or magic ver.ses had been sung 
 
 52. Whoever, he who. There is no need of assuming that Milton 
 here connects any moral notion with " upright." 
 
 55 Youth, youthfulness. <f. L'Alleg., 1. ^6. The most familiar 
 type of the ancient representations of Bacchus is here followed. 
 
 58. Comus, as editors have noted, is not a well defined figure in 
 classical mythology -the /c&i/uos of the Ayamemnon (1. 1189) mentioned 
 by Warton, Bell, and Browne, not being even personified, so far as I 
 can judge. The word seems to have signified a revel with music and 
 dancing, and is perhaps derived, like "comedy," from kco^tj, a village. 
 Then we have it meaning a more or less frolicsome procession, chiefly 
 in honor of Bacchus. In later mythology the god Comus makes his ap- 
 pearance with attendant festivals of a somewhat licentious character. 
 
108 NOTES 
 
 He was represented as a young man, crowned with flowers, and either 
 sleeping or intoxicated. (Philostratos, Imagines, I., ii.) This lately 
 developed (Philostratos the Elder wrote in the third century A.D.) 
 and ill-defined divinity could be transported to Britain even more ap- 
 propriately than the sea-nymphs in Lycidas. He had been pre- 
 viously used by Ben Jonson and Puteauus (see Introductory Note) ; 
 but it is generally admitted that Milton's Comus is a creation of 
 the poet's own. Note in this connection Milton's admirable bold- 
 ness in refusing to be bound by the letter of classical mythology, eg., 
 the story of the visit of Bacchus to Circe is his own invention. 
 He cleaves to the spirit of antiquity, however, more than any other 
 English poet, not even excepting Keats and Landor. So, just as 
 Ariadne was a fit spouse for Bacchus, the divine, Circe was a fit para- 
 mour for Bacchus, the sensual ; and so Comus, their son, "much like 
 his father, but his mother more," is, in Milton's masque, a legiti- 
 mate development from the somewhat commonplace god of license of 
 the days of Philostratos. 
 
 59. Of is probably equivalent to "on account of." For frolic, ef. 
 VAlleg. , 1. 18 and note. 
 
 60. This line refers to the god's wanderings through Gaul and Spain 
 and gives quite an imaginative touch. Cf. Paradise Lost., i., 521. 
 
 61. Ominous, full of portents. Cf. 1. 207. The i is slurred. Him 
 is reflexive, as often in early English. 
 
 65. Orient. Warton notes that this word was frequently used in 
 the sense of " ricldy bright from the radiance of the East," and com- 
 pares Piiradise Lost, i., 546, " with orient colors waving." Other edi- 
 tors follow him. I am not sure, however, that Milton did not intend 
 a partial reference to the eastern drugs and poisons familiar in litera- 
 ture. The mother from whom Comus learned his " mighty art" was 
 herself a Colchian. In many of the cases in which Milton uses " ori- 
 ent " both the meanings here given seem applicable. 
 
 66. Drouth, usually spelt " drought." Phmbus is, of course, the 
 sun-god. The whole phrase is a poetical equivalent for "thirst," 
 which is definitely used in the next line. 
 
 67. Fond, foolish. See Jl Pens., 1. 6, and Skeat. 
 
 69. This line expresses a familiar idea in our poetry, derived nat- 
 urally from the well known verse in Genesis i. Cf. Shakspere's 
 noble words in Hamlet, II., ii., 3i8, and Milton's " human face di- 
 vine," Paradise ILost, iii., 44. 
 
 71. Ounce, an animal closely related to the leopard, but distinct, in- 
 habiting the mountains of Asia at a high altitude. 
 
 72. This most prosaic line, while departing from Homer's account 
 of the effects of Circe's enchantments, has one merit whicli editors 
 have pointed out : it fits the stage directions to follow, which were 
 
GOMUS 109 
 
 naturally made simple to suit the private character of the perform- 
 ance. 
 
 74. Commentators note that this line also fails to follow Homer's 
 account ; and that the next line but one gives to the cup of Comua 
 the effect ascribed by Homer (not by Tennyson) to the lotus (Odys., 
 ix., 94 seq.). I cannot help feeling that Milton, when he wrote these 
 verses, was thinking more of the college debaucheries he had wit- 
 nessed, but abstained from, than he was of Homer or Comus There 
 is a peculiar force of direct scorn in the line 'To roll with pleasure in 
 a sensual sty," that seems to lend color to this view. We have Shak- 
 spere's authority in Othello for the drinking propensities of the Eng- 
 lishmen of the period, and we may be sure that although Cambridge 
 was a nurse of puritanism. Milton saw enough drunkenness there to 
 work him up to this magnificent denunciation. 
 
 79. Adcenturons, now generally applied to persons of a rash disposi- 
 tion ; here it means "full of dangers." 
 
 80. Editors have not failed to notice how the rhythm and alliteration 
 of this verse suit the sense it bears. Cf. Paradise J^si, i., 744-40 ; 
 iv., 556. 
 
 81. Convoy, guidance. Of. convey. 
 
 83. frifi' woof, i.e., spun from threads of Iris's weaving (trace deriva- 
 tion and meaning of " woof"); or, more probably, spun from threads 
 colored like the rainbow. Iris being the goddess that impersonated 
 this natural phenomenon. Cf. Paradise Lost, xi., 244. 
 
 85. Editors are in all likelihood right in seeing in this and the fol- 
 lowing lines a compliment to Lawes and the Earl of Bridgewater. 
 
 86. Soft pipe is a favorite expression when the music of shepherds 
 is reierred to. Sinooth-dittied is a pretty example of Milton's use of 
 the compound epithet. " Ditty " means strictly the words of a song 
 (so here), but is often confused with "song" itself. Cf. Lydd., 1. 32. 
 The tribute to Lawes's musical skill is reminiscential of the stories told 
 of Orpheus. Cf 11. 494-500. 
 
 87. Knows to. We say in prose "knows liow to." Cf. Lycid., 11. 
 10-11. Note the superabundance of alliteration in this passage. 
 
 88. Less brings the faithfulness of Thyrsis into comparison with his 
 musical skill. 
 
 90. Likeliest, i.e., Thyrsis, being a shepherd and keeping watch on 
 the mountains, is naturally most likely to be near the scene of danger, 
 and therefore can be impersonated by the Spirit with least risk of 
 discovery. 
 
 92. Viewless, invisible — Shaksperian and Miltonic. 
 
 Stage Directions. These seem to be partly due to Lawes, who had 
 more experience in such matters than Milton. 
 
 Ciuirming-rod. Note the importance of the rod in magic art. Cf. 
 
110 NOTES 
 
 Circe's use of the wand, the rods of the Egyptian sorcerers with whom 
 Moses contended, etc. Cf. also the rod or switch used by the modern 
 well finder, and the invariable wand of the lat*er-day conjurer or 
 '•Professor of the Art of Prestidigitation." 
 
 Rout, a disorderly compaiiy, or rabble. 
 
 Glinteri/iff, glistening. Of. Shakspere's " All that glisters ia not 
 gold," in the 3f. of V. (II., vii., 05), cf. 1. 219. A very similar and 
 curious "rout" is described in the anti-masque of Browne's Inner 
 Temple Masque. See Introductory Note. 
 
 93-144. This is a lyrical passage of great beauty, composed mainly 
 in the octosyllabic measure of L^ Allegro and II Penseroso (see note to 
 DAUeg.., 11-24). A few pentameters lend a certain stateliness of 
 movement where it seemed needed. It will be noted that, as soon as 
 Comus hears the sound of footsteps, i.e., as soon as the main dramatic 
 business of the masque begins, he drops the lyrical measure, and begins 
 to use blank verse, the staple metrical form of the poem. It will be 
 observed also that the matter of the passage under discussion is lyrical, 
 I.e. , it consists of picturesque description and invocation leading up 
 to the dance or measure indicated by the stage directions. In other 
 words this lyric serves many of the functions of a chorus in a Greek 
 tragedy. Similar lyrical passages or interludes are to be found in the 
 pastoral dramas and masques that were the forerunners of Comus, 
 e.g., in the Aminta, The Faithful Bhephenhss, Jonson's masques, 
 etc. They occur also in such a drama as Midsummer Nights Dream. 
 Strictly speaking, the passage forms an anti-masqne. 
 
 98. Refers to Hesperus, the evening star, that warns the shepherd 
 that it is time to fold his flocks. Shakspere's " unfolding star "(3/. 
 for M., IV.. ii., 218) for the morning star is frequently cited in this 
 connection. % 
 
 94. Refers to the high position of the star above the liorizon. 
 
 96. His gloiriiifj axle dotJi allay, i.e., quenches the heat of its (see note 
 to II Pens., 1. 128) axle in the steep (high ; cf. 1. 375) Atlantic Ocean 
 which the ancients regarded as a "stream" of great magnitude, flow- 
 ing around the earth. The lines probably refer to the opinion preva- 
 lent in classic times that the setting of the sun in the Atlantic was ac- 
 companied by a hissing of the waters. As to " stream," Milton might 
 possibly have been influenced by the O. E. poets, cf. lagustream [An- 
 dreas, 1. 423). Cf. also heanne holm {Elene, 1. 983). 
 
 98. The sun, sloped or sunk beneath the horizon, shoots his beams 
 upward toward the northern (as Milton first wrote it) pole shrouded in 
 dusk, and paces toward his eastern goal, now that he has reached his 
 western one. It is natural to compare the noble passage in Psalm 
 xix. 5 : '" The sun as a bridegroom cometh out of his chamber, and re 
 joiceth as a strong man to run a race." It is equally natural to com- 
 
COMUS 111 
 
 liare the remainder of the l^-ric with its invocations to " joy and feast, 
 miilniglit sliout and revelry, tipsy dance and jollity. ' and its exquisite 
 ilescriptions of moonlit seas and glades, with the passage in U Allegro 
 (11. 25-40) that invites Mirth and her joyous companions to "come 
 and trip it on the light fantastic toe." The moral content of the two 
 passages must, however, be contrasted ; and the student may perhaps 
 note that the poet's style is less spontaneous, his art more conscious, 
 as befits a later work. 
 
 105 Twine, with an entwining or twisting-in of roses. Cf. Nat. 
 Ode, 1. 226, and in a slightly different sense, Lodge's Rosaline^ 
 
 " Of selfsame color is her hair 
 Whether unfolded, or in ticinea." 
 
 107. Rif/or. Note the frequent personifications. Gray went several 
 steps further in this direction than his ma.ster and the effect is not 
 always pleasant. Scrupulous is a proper epithet from Comus's point 
 of view. 
 
 110. Sdics, popnl ir sayings or maxims. Cf. Shakspere: "Full of 
 wise S'^w.v and modern instances." As Yon Like It. 11., vii., 156. 
 
 111. Of purer fire refers to the idea of the ancients that fire was 
 the element of which the gods consisted. 
 
 113. Starry quir.', the spheres that make music according to the 
 doctrine of Pythagoras, or the spirits that inhabit and guide them. 
 Cf. Shakspere s famous lines in M. of V.,Y.. \ , 54-65, especially 
 
 " Still quiriuf/ to the young-eyed cherubins. ' 
 
 Cf. also Goethe's fine lines in the dedication to Fnust : 
 
 " Die Sonne tout nach alter Weise 
 In Brudei-.«pharen Wettgesang." 
 
 113. This Hue and the next make it not unlikely that it is the 
 spirits inhabiting the spheres that constitute the " starry quire." Note 
 the stately rhythm of this couplet, obtained chiefly through the long 
 syllables employed. Nightly. Cf. 11 Pens., 1. 84. It is hard to say 
 whether Milton meant the word to be an adjective or an adverb. 
 
 115. Sounds, a word that should be familiar to students of American 
 geography. Cf. Paradise Lost, vii., dQd. Finny drove. C/. Horace, 
 Odes, /., ii., 7-9. 
 
 " Omne cum Proteus pecus egit altos 
 Visere montes, 
 Piscium et summa genus haesit ulmo." 
 
112 NOTES 
 
 116. Morrice, a Moorish dauce brought from Spain into England by 
 John o' Gaunt, and frequently referred to in literature. 
 
 117. 2'aicny is a beautiful adjective, but as it means "yellowish 
 brown," " sun-burned," it seems hardly appropriate for sands at mid- 
 night. Miltou first wrote "yellow." Mr. Verity thinks he substi- 
 tuted "tawny" to avoid comparison with Shakspere (cf. Ariel's song 
 Temp., I., ii., 376, *• Come unto these yellow sands"). The same editor 
 notes here and elsewhere Keats's evident following of Milton in Endy- 
 mion and his other early works. Shelves, rocky ledges. 
 
 118. P«?"<, brisk (not " forward " in an improper sense). Dapper 
 may be " quick" or '• valiant" in accordance with its derivation, but 
 '* spruce " seems better here. 
 
 119. Note the exquisite choice of epithets in dimpled and trim (1. 
 120). Cf. DAlle(j. , 1. 75. 
 
 121. Wakes, night-watches : originally the vigil kept at the com- 
 pletion of a parish church, then a nightly merry making. Cf. its 
 use in connection with the dead, in which the same degeneration 
 into a carousal may be observed. See Cent. Diet., under "wake" 
 and " likewake." 
 
 125. Rights, rites. Cf. 1. 535. This spelling of "rites" is not 
 unprecedented, but it is possible that Milton literally meant rights, as 
 Comus is defending the propriety of his revels. 
 
 129. Cotytto, a Thracian goddess of wantonness and debauchery, 
 whose festivals were naturally celebrated at night. The "to" in "to 
 whom" should be slurred. 
 
 131. Dragon icomb. Editors see in this expression an allusion to 
 the not unfamiliar idea that the chariot of night was harnessed with 
 dragons, as the moon's in II Pens., 1. 59. (See note.) It seems, how- 
 ever, that Milton either means to call " darkness " itself a dragon, i.e., 
 a monstrous being, or, better, that he means that the womb of dark- 
 ness breeds monsters. 
 
 132. Stygiun. See note to Z'^4?^5'. , 1. 3. Spots. ?,y)\i's,. 
 
 133. One. This use of " one," which makes it equivalent to " uni- 
 versal," " entire," is not unfamiliar, e.g., " he is one mass of conceit." 
 
 135. HecaV , Hecate, a Thracian goddess of witchcraft, often con- 
 fused with Proserpine. She appears in Macbeth. Cf 1. 535. 
 
 139. Nice, here over fastidious, too prone to blush at Comus and 
 his crew. Indian, because "eastern." Editors trace out to their 
 own satisfaction Milton's indebtedness to various poets for this and 
 that epithet in this beautiful passage — a pleasant but hardly useful 
 or convincing process. 
 
 140. Cabined, narrow. Cf. Shakspere's " Cabin'd, cribb'd, confined," 
 Macbeth, 111., iv., 24, and M. Arnold's " Her cabin'd, ample spirit." 
 {Requiescat.) Wartou's proposed reading, cabin's, has not met with 
 
COM us 113 
 
 favor. He defends it by observing that Comus is describing the morn- 
 ing contemptuously, his change would, however, destroy much of 
 the euphony of the verse. 
 
 141. Descry, reveal or describe. 
 
 142. Solemnity, i.e., the "rights" of I. 125, and the "dues" of 1. 
 137. 
 
 143. Beat the ground. Qf. Horace, Odes, I., xxxvii., 2, " pulsanda 
 tellus." 
 
 144. Fantastic. See note to L'Alleg., 1. 34. Of. Collins, Tlie Pas- 
 sions, 1. 90. Round, a country-dance in which the participants join 
 hands. Measure is generally, but not here, used of a dignified dance. 
 
 145-169. Comus hears the footsteps of the Lady and bids his com- 
 rades retire. He himself in a short soliloquy recounts his nefarious 
 intentions, and then steps aside. 
 
 147. Shrouds, now chiefly used to mean a garment for the dead (see 
 Skeat) ; here covers, or hiding-places among the trees and under- 
 brush (" brakes "). 
 
 148. Supply '■ it is " after " sure." 
 151. Trains, enticements, snares, plots. 
 
 153. ffui'l. This word as Masson suggests, seems to imply that the 
 actor threw some powder (see 1. 165) into the air, which was kindled 
 so as to produce a flash of light. Milton's MS. shows that " pow- 
 dered" was used originally in place of " dazzling." 
 
 154. Spelk is here used more concretely tliau is generally the case. 
 It does not mean merely a formula of magic words, but refers to the 
 whole performance of hurling the powder, etc. Note the force of 
 "spongy," and observe that " spells" is limited by "of power." 
 
 155. Blear, deceptive, through blurring. See Skeat. 
 
 156. Presentments, shows, appearances, i.e., that which is presented 
 to the eye. Distinguish irom presentiment. 
 
 157. Quaint habits, queer clothes. Quaint (Lat., cognitus), known, 
 remarkable, hence, curious. It was confused with comptus. adorned, 
 neat, and sometimes has this meaning in our older authors. See 
 Skeat. Cf. riding-habit. 
 
 161. Olozing, flattering, deceiving. 
 
 163. Wind me, insinuate myself into the confidence of, etc. See 
 Skeat. 
 
 165. Virtue. See note to II Pens., 1. 113. 
 
 167. W/iom thrift, etc., " whom industry keeps awake at this time 
 of the night to attend to his rural business." Gear involves the idea 
 of preparation, hence its usual meaning of harness or tackle. Note 
 that both the good and the evil Spirit adopt nearly the same expedient 
 to gain their ends. This passage was slightly altered in the edition of 
 1673, but editors rightly prefer the earlier texts. 
 8 
 
114 NOTES 
 
 168. Fairly, softly. Wartnn notes that the two words sometimes 
 went togetlier to signify " gently." 
 
 170-229. The Lady enters and, believing herseli alone, describes in 
 exquisite poetry the effect upon her of the sounds of revelry she has 
 heard, how she has lost her Brothei's, how the dangers of the wood op- 
 press her, but how she trusts the powers of good to protect innocence. 
 A silver lining in a cloud cheers her drooping spirits, and she resolves 
 to wake the echoes with a song. 
 
 170. Mine, as Bell notes, is not emphatic. It was frequently used 
 before vowels. See Lounsbury, p. 277. Cf. my, immediately below. 
 
 171. MethoiKjlit, it seemed to me ''Me" is a dative ; the imper- 
 sonal "thought" is not from our modern verb 'think," but from O. 
 E. thyncan, to appear. See Skeat, under • Methiuks." 
 
 173. Jocund. See note to L'Alleg., 1. 94. GameHome, lively, 
 prompting to games and merriment. 
 
 174. Loose, i.e., in morals, probably. Hinds, rustics. See Skeat, 
 and cf. " villain," " peasant." 
 
 175. Granyes, barns. See Cent. Diet. Now used of a farmhouse. 
 6'/". the Granger party in this country. The 'moated grange " of 
 Shakspere and Tennyson was a lonely, isolated mansion. 
 
 176. Pan, the god of shepherds and, as his name implied, of every- 
 thing connected with rural matters, i.e., with nature. He was chiefly 
 worshipped in Arcadia, and was the hero of various legends, one of 
 which has been utilized by Mrs. Browning in one of her best known 
 poems. See Class. Diet. 
 
 178. Sirilled insolewe of such late wassailers, the drunken insolence 
 of such late carousers. Swilled, participle of swill, to drink greedily, 
 is a transferred epithet. Wassailei's is deri\ed from wassail, which 
 in turn represents the Northumbrian icws htel, be hale or of sound 
 health, which was a phrase used at a drinking-bout. See Skeat. Cf. 
 Paradise Lost, i. , 501-2 : 
 
 " — then wander forth the sons 
 Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine." 
 
 180. Liform, direct See Samson Agonisies, 1. 335 : so Verity, 
 Bell, and Cent. Diet. In the present instance the use of whtrc for 
 whither suggests a suspicion whether the word does not rather mean 
 " get information for -,"16. snch revellers are probably the only per- 
 sons that can set her feet upon the right path. 
 
 181. Blind, oh^cnrii. Verity compares our modern " W^VirZ-alley." 
 184. Spreading, a transferred epithet. 
 
 189. Like a sad votarist. A votarist is one who has taken a vow. 
 Sad, sober, serious. Cf. II Pens., 1. 43. A pahner was, according to 
 a common derivation, a pilgrim who brought back palms as a proof of 
 
COM us 115 
 
 having been to Palestine For iceed, see note to IjAlleg., 1. 120. In 
 connection with tlifse exquisite lines Massou remarks: " Jf this 
 fine image is optically realized, what we see is Evening succeeding 
 Day as the figure of a venerable grey-hooded mendicant might slowly 
 follow the wheels of some rich man's chariot." I fail to see the ne- 
 cessity for lugging in the mendicant and the rich man. If we must 
 have a concrete realization of the image, we shall probably do better 
 to recall the thoughtful, truly pious pilgrims who followed in the 
 wake of the noble warriors that won the Holy Sepulchre from the 
 infidels. Whether Milton intended his lines to bear any very definite 
 interpretation is more than doubtful. The Lady remembers that her 
 Brothers left her as Evening drew on, and in her present sorrow she 
 describes that event by means of an image suggesting pensive care 
 following in the wake of lively joys. If she had been describing 
 Xight she would probably have used a stronger image ; but for Even- 
 ing, when she had just been left, the image she does use is very sug- 
 gestive. It is certainly far more poetic than the elaborate conceit 
 tiiat follows (11. 195-200), in which Nature appears as a lamp filler, and 
 Night as a burglar with a dark lantern It is not always the image 
 that can be best realized optically that is the most poetic. Cf. War- 
 ton's note on the passage. LI. 195-225 were omitted in the liridf/e- 
 water MS., probably to lighten the part of the young lady, not from 
 motives of delicacy, as has been suggested. 
 
 190. Wain, wagon. 
 
 193. Likeliest, most likely. See note to 11 Pens., 1. 15. Warton 
 notes Milton's fondness for this particular superlative. Cf. 1. 90. 
 
 193. Engaged. Bell renders" committed," which is hardly satis- 
 factory, although it is difficult to find a better word. 
 
 198. There is a change in construction here. We should naturally 
 expect " filled' to be the verb of a dependent clause, not of a main 
 one ; if the new object, '' their lamps," had not been introduced, there 
 would have been no change necessitated. But that object was needed 
 to carry out the figure to its undesirable completion. The stars have 
 often been likened to candles, but this figure does not require the ex- 
 plicitness of detail that renders Milton's lines almost amusing. The 
 O. E. poets -sometimes called the sun " heaven's candle." The youth- 
 ful Milton, it may be remarked, could hardly be expected to be entirely 
 free from the faults of the Fantastic School of Poets (represented by 
 Donne, Crashaw, Cartwright, and Cowley) Cf. the queer conceit in 
 the seventh stanza of his uufini.shed poem. The Pdssion, 
 
 " Mine eye hath found the sad sepulchral rock 
 
 Yet on the softened quarry would I score 
 My plaining verse as lively as before. " 
 
116 NOTES 
 
 203. Rife signifies abundance, prevalence. Here it is about 
 equivalent to "abundantly manifest." Pe?/(ec<, completely plainer 
 distinct. 
 
 204. Single darkness is by some editors explained to mean " dark- 
 ness only," but this, to my mind, takes away much force from the 
 epithet. It seems rather to mean "unmixed," '" uncompounded 
 with any other element." Verity's paraphrase, "complete," agrees 
 with this Cf. 1. 3GS), note. 
 
 205. The short passage beginning here is justly famous for its 
 weird, almost sublime, beauty. Editors and critics have supposed 
 the lines to be founded on passages in Marco Polo, Heywoods llur- 
 archy of Angels, and more than one play of Shakspere s, especially 
 his Tempest. Such matters can rarely be settled definitely ; but few 
 readers will be rash enough to deny that the passage derives its en- 
 tire present value from Milton's noble use of his own poetic imagina- 
 tion. The similar lines from The Faithful Shepherd) ss at the close of 
 Act I., Scene i., may be compared, and the wonderful difference in 
 Milton's favor noted. See note to 1 4'S'i. 
 
 208. Syllahlr. pronounce distinctly. 
 
 210. WeU would ordinarily precede " startle," as it is a modal 
 adverb nearly equivalent to '" indeed." 
 
 212. Strong siding, i.e., a champion that takes sides stronjly, or 
 warmly espouses the cause of. 
 
 214. Oirt means enclosed, girdled. The poet may mean that Hope, 
 while hovering, droops her wings so that they encompass her form ; 
 or he may simply use the word as nearly equivalent to " clad." Cf. 
 for the whole passage Horace, Odes, I . xxiv. , 6-7. 
 
 215. Editors note the significant insertion of Chastity in place of 
 the Charity of the well known Pauline trio of virtues, Chastity being 
 practically the key note of Comus. Cf. 11. 418-75, 780-99. 
 
 216. Ye is here in the objective case, a frequent confusion among 
 the Elizabethans. Cf. 1. 967. See Louusbury, pp. 271-2. Visibly, 
 i.e., in visible or bodily forms. 
 
 217. Scan : " That He the Supreme Good to whom all things ill," 
 slurring " to whom;" otherwise the ictus falls on "to,' which is 
 undesirable. 
 
 219. Glistering. See note to Stage Directions. 
 
 221. Here the Lady suddenly breaks off, noting, as she does, a 
 glimpse of light in the dark sky above her. The passage is noted for 
 its beauty, which is enhanced by the repetition, or rather parallelism, 
 of 11. 223-4. See on this last point Professor C. A. Smith's valuable 
 study. Repetition ami ParaUelism in English Verse. Cf, for a use 
 of this poetical device, Lycidas, 11. 62-63, and the well-known lines of 
 Paradise Lost (vii., 25-26): 
 
COMUS 117 
 
 " though fallen on evil days. 
 On evil days though fallen, and evil tongues." 
 
 225. Casts breaks the construction, as it is logically co-ordinate with 
 •'turn," which is an infinitive Tufted. See note to L'AUeg., 1. 78. 
 
 226. Note the weak ending of this line. The next two verses have 
 redundant syllables, so that the passage is blank verse of a character- 
 istically dramatic type. If " make to be heard" be equivalent to 
 " cause to be heard," verse 227, if read normally, seems, to my ear, to 
 receive only four stresses, eg.. " Such noise as I can make to be heard 
 farthest." This leads me to think that the line might be improved 
 by cutting off "to be heard farthest " with commas, thus giving a more 
 normal caesura and a more pronounced pause. The phrase would 
 then be an infinitive of purpose. I have not ventured to make this 
 change in the text because it is rash to challenge comparison with 
 Milton' s exquisite sense of harmony. Note that the Lady cannot 
 " hallo" to her Brothers because that might attract attention and per- 
 haps danger to them. She will risk the possible danger to herself. 
 
 280-243. These lines comprise an exquisite song, worthy to rank 
 with any that Mr. Bullen has collected in his delightful anthology 
 from the Elizabethan dramatists It is not as spontaneous as some of 
 Shakspere's, nor has it the pathetic inevitableness of Fletchers 
 " Lay a garland on my hearse." but it is in every way worthy of Mil- 
 ton's genius, which was. however, hardly that of a song-writer proper, 
 but rather delighted in what may be called the lyric of elaboration. 
 Note in this connection the complex arrangement and imperfect char- 
 acter of the rhymes, the .similarity of sounds, and the varying number 
 of feet. The appeal to Echo may or may not have been suggested by 
 Peele {Old Wives' Tale, IL 417-24). or Ben Jonson {Ci/ntMi's Revels. 
 I., i.). It was a familiar device in the masques of the period, owing 
 seemingly to the effectiveness which the reply of Echo would give 
 and the chance afforded the musician to display his art. Cf., abstract 
 of Line)- Temple Masque given in the Introductory Note. The most 
 carious use of the device that I have found is in il Pastor Fido, IV., 
 viii., which Browne imitated in Bntannid's Pastorals, I., v. 
 
 230. Echo the nymph, daughter of Earth and Air, blabbed of Jupi- 
 ter's amours, and was appropriately punished by Juno, who deprived 
 her of speech except in answer to questions, her answers being dis- 
 creetly fitted to the questions. Echo then fell in love with the beauti- 
 ful Narcissus, and meeting the same fate she had served out to Pan, 
 pined away till nothing was left of her save her beautiful but useless 
 voice. Narcissus (1. 237) survived to fall in love with his own image 
 in a fountain, pine away or drown himself, and be changed to the 
 flower that bears his name. 
 
118 I^'OTES 
 
 231. Airy ishell, atmosphere or vault of heaven. The metaphor is 
 plain, '•shell" not being used in its sense of musical instrument, as 
 some have thought. The MS. variant is cell. Cf. Nat. Ode, 11. 99- 
 103. 
 
 233. Meander is the winding river in Asia Minor from which we 
 have derived our familiar verb. Editors have sought to explain the 
 reference to tliis particular river by its " associations with music and 
 misfortune" {cf. the Marsyas legend), its numerous flocks of swans, 
 favorite birds with ancient poets, etc. So, some see in the "violet- 
 embroidered vale " the Attic Colouus, a haunt of nightingales. The 
 matter cannot be settled, but I should say that Keightley's guess that 
 the windings of the river suggested its being a fit home for Echo, is as 
 near the mark as any. Cf. Gray, Progress of Poesy., 11.G9-73. Mar- 
 gent, margin. The phrase reappears in 1. 23 of Gva.y'' s, Eton College Ode. 
 
 233. The arguments in favor of Colonus are quite strong, e.g., 
 " violet-crowned " is an epithet often applied to Athens ; Milton in 
 the famous passage on Athens (Paradise liegnined, iv., 236 sey. ) speaks 
 of the Attic bird trilling " her thick-warbl'd notes," etc. 
 
 234. Love-lorn may, as Bell holds, mean that the nightingale 
 has been deprived of her loved ones, and so may refer to the story of 
 Aedon, who, killing her own son by mistake, was changed into a 
 nightingale. But the word may mean simply " sad through love," 
 and refer to the better known story of Philomela (see note to 11 Pens., 
 1. f)6). Cf. Sir Philip Sidney's beautiful song, " The nightingale, as 
 soon as April bringeth," especially the lines : 
 
 " Alas, she hath no other cause of anguish 
 But Tereus" love, on her by strong hand wroken." 
 
 241. The exquisite appropriateness of the phrase " Sweet Queen of 
 Parley " will be apparent. Parley is conversation, often between 
 two parties anxious to find out what each other may be thinking of, 
 which is notoriously the case when one parleys with Echo. DaughUr 
 of the Sphere has been taken to refer to the "airy shell " or atmosphere 
 of 1. 231, or to the music of the spheres whose reverberation gives the 
 nymph her origin. Whether the latter explanation is thoroughly 
 poetical, as it is given, may be doubted, but the opening lines of Mil- 
 ton's At a Solemn Music: 
 
 " Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heav'n's joy. 
 Sphere-born harmonious sisters, Voice and Verse," 
 
 seem to indicate tliat there is a germ of truth in it. The same lines 
 have also been cited to support the former explanation. "Sphere" 
 seems intended to rhyme with "are." 
 
COMUS 119 
 
 243. " Add the charm of echo to the music ot the spheres" ^Uell). 
 The verse is an Alexandrine. 
 
 244-330. Comus in the guise of a .shepherd steps from his retreat 
 (probably not coming fully on the stage till 1. 265), and apostrophizes 
 in eloquent poetry the beauty of the Lady. He resolves to make her 
 his queen and accosts her. She repels his advances with dignified 
 courtesy, a brisk explanatory dialogue ensues, andafter he has assured 
 her of his willingness and ability to guide and protect her. she con 
 sents to follow him committin.; herself to the guardianship of Provi- 
 dence. Verses 277-290 are noticeable as a distinct imitation of the 
 ^tichomythia of Greek tragedy, question and answer occupying alter- 
 nate lines. This lends a dramatic force to the sceue which for the rest 
 is decidedly lacking, although there is plainly no lack of noble and 
 sustained poetry. 
 
 244. An exquisite rendering of the idea conveyed by the familiar 
 phrase "human clay." The personal compliment intended for the 
 Lady and the composer is obvious. 
 
 247. Vocal, i.e., the air seems to be given a voice by the song. 
 
 248. Hin, as often, stands for "its," which refers to "sometliing 
 holy." Note that Comus is not repelled or abashed by this holiness, so 
 contrary to his own nature, but is rather incited to undertake its con- 
 quest. 
 
 250. Empty-vaulted, probably used because the night was void of 
 stars. Cf., in an opposite sense, M Arnold's Siif-Dependence : 
 
 •' Through the intense, clear, star-sown vault of heaven." 
 
 251. Fall. Supply "of the voice." Smoothinri, etc. Compare 
 this exquisite figure with II Perm., 1. 58. Cf. also Paradise Lost, i., 
 21. /^ refers to " darkness," which is evidently to be conceived as a 
 great, dusky bird, covering the earth with its wings. Verity seems to 
 think that " it ' must refer to " down," which is unnecessary. 
 
 253. Sirens three. The Sirens were supposed to dwell on a rocky 
 island near Sicily and to lure sailors to destruction by their sweet 
 singing. They were variously described and named. (See Class. 
 DlH.) Ulysses passed them by, but only because he stopped the ears 
 of his crew with wax, and had himself tied to the mast, with orders 
 that no heed should be paid to his commands or entreaties to halt 
 The angry Sirens threw themselves into the sea (Odys., xii.. 166 scq.). 
 Various other legends are told of them, but they seem to be uncon- 
 nected with Circe (who. indeed, warned Ulysses against them). s;ive 
 through the medium of their common power of destructive enchant- 
 ment, which probably caused Milton to bring them together here, as 
 Browne had previously done in his Inner Temple Masque. Cf. how- 
 ever, Horace, Ejnst., I., ii , 23. Homer makes mention of only two 
 
120 NOTES 
 
 Sirens. Dante has a vision of only one, who is described in exquisite 
 lines, worthy of Homer liimself (Purg., xix. , 10-24). Cf. the Lor- 
 elei legend and the stories of kelpies as illustrated in Heine's well- 
 known poem, and in Dr. R. Garnett's The Kelpie and the Wrecker. 
 See note to 1. 868. 
 
 254. Floicei'y-kirtled, i.e., with skirts adorned with flowers, or like 
 flowers. Naiades, fresh-water nymphs presiding over rivers, springs, 
 and fountains. The singing of Circe's maidens is not stressed in 
 Homer or Ovid, but is in Browne. i,\Varton.) Their gathering of 
 herbs is classical. 
 
 256. Simg, the participial form used for the preterite, as frequently. 
 Take the ])nsoned soul. Bell is doubtless right in considering this a 
 proleptic use of the participle, equivalent to "take the soul prisoner," 
 as it is the souls of li.steners that are referred to and not of those sub- 
 dued by magic arts. 
 
 257. Elysium. See note to L' Alley., 1. 147. Cf. also DAUeg., 1. 
 136 and note. Scylla was the famous rock, and Charybili^ (1. 259) the 
 whirlpool so fatal to sailors as to have become proverbial. Scylla had 
 been a rival of Circe's for Glaucus the sea god, and had been turned 
 by enchantment into a monster, whereupon she leaped into the sea 
 and became a dangerous rock. See Clasn. Diet. Warton notes that 
 in the BeUum Punicum of Silius Italicus there is another instance of 
 these fabulous monsters being charmed by music 
 
 262. Ilome-felt. Cf. "to strike home." 
 
 263. An exquisite verse, which is often quoted. 
 
 265. Editors naturally compare with Tempest, I , ii., 421-8. 
 
 267. Unless, etc. Supply " thou be" or "they bred thee as." 
 
 268. DiFfWst, dwells, in modern and normal English. Piin. See 
 note to 1. 176. Sylvan. See note to 11 Pens., 1. 134. 
 
 271. Gentle shep/ierd, a familiar collocation. Allan Ramsay used it 
 as a title for his well-known drama. JU is lost seems to be a Latinism, 
 from male perdilur (Keightley, quoted by Bell). The Lady is not dis- 
 pleased at the compliment to her Brothers. Cf. 1. 291 seq. 
 
 273. Shift, i.e., it was her last resource or contrivance. 
 
 279. Near-usTiering, i.e., waiting in close attendance, as ushers at 
 doors. 
 
 284. Twai7i. See note to Lycid., 1. 110. 
 
 285. In this line forestalling seems to tell against taking prevented 
 in its old sense of '• anticipated" rather than in its modern sense of 
 " hindered." 
 
 286. Hit, guess. See note to II Pens., 1. 14. 
 
 287. This concise construction adds much to the effect of the imita- 
 tion of the Greek style. The question is equivalent to, "Apart from 
 your present needs (or emergency; does their loss mean much to you? " 
 
COM us 121 
 
 290. Hebe's. See uote to DAlleg., 1 29. 
 
 291. ^^^utt time, wlien. Laband is used of a style of writing when 
 it shows signs of the care and work bestowed upon it ; so the epithet 
 may here be used of "oxen," because by their relaxed condition they 
 show the effects of their work upon themselves. 
 
 293. Swinked, tired with toil. See Skeat. IMger, one who re- 
 pairs hedges, a common agricultural laborer. 
 
 294. Mantling, spreading. We speak of blushes manf^jH (7 the cheek 
 and of a mantled pool, /.*., one that is covered with scum. 
 
 297. Port, frequently used for " mien," " bearing," " deportment." 
 The intended compliment to the Brothers is obvious. 
 
 299. Element, air. See note to II Pens., 1. 93. 
 
 301. Plighted, folded, interwoven, plaited (see Skeat). Of. the 
 Italian piegati rami, plighted boughs (Tasso, Aminta, I., ii., 66). 
 Axce-atrook, an obsolete form of " awe-struck." 
 
 303. An exquLsite simile. It may be remembered that the Devil 
 has been known to quote Scripture for his own purposes. Comus 
 must refer rather to the pleasure of seeking heaven than to the 
 proverbial diflSculty of the task. 
 
 312. Dingle, a narrow valley between steep hills. DeU, dale, a val- 
 ley with gentler slope. Bosky bmmi (1. 313), bushy valley with a 
 brooklet running through it. 
 
 315. Stray attendance, strayed attendants. Cf. Paradise Lost, 
 xii., 132, where "servitude" is used in a concrete sense. 
 
 316. Shroud. See note to 1 147. 
 
 317. Low-roosted. Milton surely has no intention of conveying any 
 idea of the lurk's perching. He means, as Masson holds, simply rest- 
 ing on the ground. 
 
 318. Thatched pallet, a conceit for "nest ; " it is not specially poet- 
 ical. Rouse is used intransitively. 
 
 321. Till further quest, i.e., till further search is made for you, or 
 we can make further search for them (the Brothers). 
 
 322. Courtesy is derived from court. The passage shows how the 
 retired Milton was looking askance at the court already plunging into 
 the vortex that was to destroy it. See Spenser, F. Q.,Nl.,\., 1. 
 
 327. Less warranted, i.e., that gives less guarantee of safety. Cf. 
 the legal use of the term, i.e., to warrant a title. 
 
 328. That I should fear to chinge it. The meaning is that as no 
 place could be more insecure, as a result, she need have no fear to 
 change it for another. 
 
 329. Square, fit or adjust her trial to her strength after the latter 
 has been proportioned (proleptic participle). 
 
 331-489. This scene is occupied by a highly poet>al interchange of 
 thoughts between the two Brothers of the Lady on the strength of 
 
122 NOTES 
 
 Chastity against the assaults of evil. Here, as elsewhere, the power 
 of the true dramatist to create characters that live and move and have 
 their being outside of himself is singularly lacking ; but nowhere does 
 Milton show himself a purer man or a truer poet. 
 
 331. Unmujfflc. The omission of the reflexive "yourselves" prac- 
 tically puts the verb in the middle voice. 
 
 382. Wont'st, art accustomed, formed from tcont (woned) the par- 
 ticiple of the M. E. verb wonen, to dwell or be accustomed. So wonted, 
 II Pens., 1. 37. See Skeat. Beniaun, blessing. 
 
 333. Stoop. Cf. 11 Pens., I. 72. Amber. See note to L'AUeg., 1. 61. 
 
 336. Toiir, i.e., of the stars and moon. Influence. See note to 
 UAUeg., 1. 122. 
 
 337. Taper, must be a vocative here on account of the use of tJiy 
 in 1. 340, but it is a rather confusing construction, since it occurs in 
 an apostrophe to other objects. Milton seems to have written "a" 
 first and then changed to " thy." 
 
 338. Wicker hole, i.e., the window of a poor cottage plastered with 
 clay. The shutter of the window was perhaps composed of wicker 
 work. 
 
 340. Rule, ruler, or instrument for drawing straight lines; levelled 
 gives the idea that the '■ rule " is held horizontally ; and tlie whole ex- 
 pression is a metaphorical way of describing the long horizontal beam 
 of light emitted by the taper. Note the alliteration and the length of 
 the syllables which seem to make the sound suit the sense. 
 
 341. Star of Arceuly, any star in the constellation of the Great 
 Bear. Arcady, Arcadia, the mountainous region in the centre of tlie 
 Peloponnesus, which was tlie home of Callisto and her son Areas, who 
 were changed by Zeus into the constellations of the Great and Lesser 
 Bear. For Tynan Cynosure, see note to I J' Allec/., 1. 80. ''Tyrian," 
 of course, refers to the sailors of Tyre, who used the lode-star as their 
 guide, as the Greek sailors did the Greater Bear. 
 
 344. Wattled cotes, i.e., the pens or enclosures formed of plaited 
 twigs. 
 
 345. Oaten stops. The "pastoral reed'' (or shephcrd"»- pipe) was 
 probably, at least in Virgil's time, a musical instrument made of oaten 
 stalks, in which holes were cut (stops), over whicli the player's fingers 
 were placed. Hence the frequent use of " oat " and its derivatives in 
 our own pastoral poetry. ' Cf. Lycid., 11. 33, 88, 18S, and Spenser, As- 
 trophel (Prelude, 1. 1). Perhaps, too, the fact that oaten pipes were 
 common among English rustics may have had some influence. Mr. 
 Jerrara has shown in his note on Lycidas, 1. 33, that in Theocritus the 
 words used for pipe lend no color to the English phrase. Virgil has 
 "tenui . . . avena," Eel, I., 2. Cf. Collins's Ode to Evening, 
 1. 1 ; " If aught of oaten stop or pastoral song." 
 
COMUS 123 
 
 347. C«w«f, infinitive after " hear." Cf. L' AUecj., \\. b2, \U. 
 349. Innumerous, i.e., that cannot be numbered. 
 352. Burs, burns. 
 
 355. Leans is intransitive. To supply "she" takes away much of 
 the poetic effect. Fraught, freighted, loaded. 
 
 356. What if. Supply "she be." There is also an ellipsis of 
 some such expression as "shall we do," " shall we say,'" after " what ; " 
 but the mind seizes the meaning so quickly that there is no need to 
 supply any definite form of words 
 
 358. This line probably refers to the Lady's sufferings, if she be 
 in the grasp of wild beasts, savage through hunger, or of wilder men 
 savage through lust. 
 
 359. Over-exquisite, over-curious, too discriminating. 
 
 360. To cast is perhaps best taken as an infinitive, showing the re- 
 spect wherein the Younger Brother must not be " over exquisite." 
 The meaning of cast the fashion is "to form an opinion about the 
 nature and appearance of uncertain evils." " Ca.st " is here used rather 
 in its astrological sense {e.g., to cast a horoscope) than as suggesting an 
 idea of medical analysis. 
 
 362. What need, "why need," or " what need is there." See Ab- 
 bott, ^ 297. 
 
 366. To seek, i. e. , so perplexed or embarrassed as to have to seek 
 means of escape. Sometimes the phrase means " to be sought. " Cf. 
 Paradise Lost, viii., 197. 
 
 367. Unprincipled, i.e., not grounded in the principles of " vir- 
 tue's book and the sweet peace." etc. 
 
 368. Bosoms, " holds in her bo-som." See note to L'Alleg., 1. 78. 
 
 369. Single here means " mere " It does not seem to be used in as 
 strong a sense as in 1. 204 (see note). JV^oise, sound, not necessarily 
 loud. 
 
 370. Not being in danger. Supply "she;" an absolute construc- 
 tion equivalent to a conditional clause. 
 
 371. Constant. Note the force of this adjective, which is equiva- 
 lent to " steadfast," "standing firm." 
 
 372. Plight, condition. See note to II Pens., 1. 57. 
 
 373. This line introduces an often-quoted passage so true and beau- 
 tiful that it needs no commentary and warrants Mr. Saintsbury's ad- 
 vice to the poet, " Give your days and nights to the reading of Coimis.'" 
 Cf. Romro and Juliet, III., ii., 8-9. 
 
 375. Flat sea. Note the force of the epithet, and compare with 
 Lycid., 1. 98. Contrast also with 1. 97, siqyra. 
 
 376. Se(ks t<>, resorts to, has recourse to. Note the autobiographical 
 touch, unconscious perhaps, in these lines (Mark Pattison). 
 
 377. Contemplation. Cf. II Pens., 1. 54. 
 
124 NOTES 
 
 378. Plumes, preens (c/. prune) or dresses her plumage (with the 
 beak). 
 
 379. Various bustle of resort, i.e., the varied noise and movement of 
 places to which men resort. 
 
 380. Al/ to-ruffled. Milton wrote " all to ruffled,'' which might 
 mean "'much too ruffled," "altogether ruffled," or "quite ruffled 
 up," according as " to " stands for " too, " or is connected witli '' all " or 
 is regarded as an intensive particle as in tlie verb "to break," signify- 
 ing "to break in pieces." The last interpretation is probably best, 
 certainly when the rhythm is considered, and is followed in the text. • 
 
 381. Most applicable to Milton himself. 
 
 382. Centre, i.e., of the earth. 
 
 386. Affects, here, 'genuinely likes." There is no trace of the 
 usual modern sense of pretended liking. The passage here intro- 
 duced is perhaps even more beautiful in its concrete picturesque- 
 ness than the more abstract verses that precede it. The Elder 
 Brother, as Warton has observed, deals with philosophy, the Younger 
 with fact. Their dispositions, consonant with their years, are thus 
 contrasted, but not in a dramatic manner. We feel instinctively that 
 Milton is speaking through the mouths of both, although the magnifi- 
 cent tribute to the power of Chastity is more especially characteristic 
 of the youth whose purity at Cambridge compelled the admiration 
 of his fellows. 
 
 388. Compare with this exquisite verse Par. Ijost, iii., 45-47 : 
 
 " But cloud instead, and ever-during dark 
 Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men 
 Cut off—." 
 
 389. Senate 7iO?/se— probably, as Verity suggests, Milton was tliinking 
 of the Roman curia. 
 
 390. Weeds. See note to VAlleg., 1. 120. Of. 11. Pens., 11. 167-174. 
 
 391. Beads, rosary. The hermit is the conventional ascetic, Mil- 
 ton's puritanism here, as elsewhere, not keeping him from appreciat- 
 ing the poetic side of many things with which he had no intellectual 
 sympathy. 
 
 393. Hesperian. The Hesperides were three nymphs, daughters of 
 Hesperus, who were commissioned to guard the golden apples of Juno. 
 They dwelt on the borders of the western world, somewhere near 
 Mount Atlas, in a garden abounding in wonderful fruits. They were 
 assisted in their watch by the dragon (1. 395) Ladon, whom Hercules, 
 according to one account, killed when he accomplished his labor of 
 securing the Hesperian apples. See Cte«. D/ci. and note to 1. 4. Cf. 
 11. 981-83 and the beautiful poem to which they serve as a motto, 
 
COMUS 125 
 
 Tennyson's The Uesperides, wliich the poet for some unknown 
 reason omitted in later editions of his works. The following lines 
 form the opening of the Song of the N3'mphs and are given here 
 because the poem may not be easily accessible : 
 
 " The golden apple, the golden apple, the hallowed fruit, 
 Guard it well, guard it warily, 
 Singing airily, 
 
 Standing about the charmed root. 
 Round about all is mute, 
 As the snow-field on the mountain-peaks, 
 As the sand-field at the mountain-foot. 
 Crocodiles in briny creeks 
 Sleep and stir not : all is mute. 
 If ye sing not, if ye make false measure, 
 We shall lose eternal pleasure. 
 Worth eternal want of rest 
 Laugh not loudly : watch the treasure 
 Of the wisdom of the West." 
 
 394. Had need, should have of necessity. Need is here an adverb 
 for which we now use needs, the genitive of the noun. Gf. Paradise 
 Lost, ii. , 413. 
 
 395. Unenchanted, i.e., not to be enchanted. See note to U Alle^., 
 1. 40. 
 
 398. Unminned. Note the force of the epithet, which is much 
 stronger than "hidden." 
 
 401. Danger, etc. Supply " that." The idea is that it is useless to 
 bid him hope that Danger will forego an opportunity and let a help- 
 less maiden pa.ss. Wink on, however, as Browne notes, may mean, 
 " close the eyes to," i.e., " forego," or " wink to a confederate." In 
 the latter case Danger will use Opportunity as a partner in his design. 
 
 403. A single might possibly be used as equivalent to an emphatic 
 "any ;" but I think that here it plainly means "one who is by her- 
 self "or " goes alone," and I have inserted a comma to bring out this 
 sense. 
 
 403. This sonorous verse owes much of its charm to the epithet 
 surrounding, which, as Bell notes, was not thoroughly adopted in 
 its sense of " encompassing " at the time Milton wrote. For its der- 
 ivation see Skeat. 
 
 404. It recks me not, I am not considering, I pay no heed to. Of. 
 Lycid., 1. 122. " Reck " originally meant to " regard," and was not 
 necessarily impersonal in its use as here. Cf. reckless, and see Skeat. 
 
 407. Unopened is probably equivalent here to "unprotected." She 
 will seem unprotected to one who has perceived that she is " un- 
 
126 NOTES 
 
 owned," that is, unaccompanied by any male relative to whom the 
 care of her person would naturally belong. 
 
 408. Lifer, argue. 
 
 409. Without all doubt, i.e., beyond all doubt : a Latinism (Bell). 
 
 415. The redundant syllable after the second foot of this verse pro- 
 duces much the same effect, owing to the considerable pause that fol- 
 lows, that is seen in the broken verse above (1. 407). 
 
 419. ]f Heaven, etc., a concessive clause, though conditional in 
 form ; if, '" even if we grant that," etc. 
 
 421. In complete steel. The same phrase is in Hamlet, I., iv., 52, 
 and Warton quotes other examples of its use. That Milton was think- 
 ing of Phiueas Fletcher's Purple Idand x., 27-32, when he wrote 
 these lines is believed by Warton and Verity, but seems hardly possi- 
 ble. Has is not frequent in Milton, but here the more stately htth 
 would have been wanting in euphony on account of the proximity of 
 two "thats." Cf. 1. 31. 
 
 423. Trace, track. Unh'irborid, i.e., not affording shelter. 
 
 424. Infamous, i.e., having a bad reputation (among travellers). 
 Cf. Horace, Odes., 1., n\., 20, " infames scopulos,' and his famous 
 "Integer vitje," I., xxii. Cf. also F'air Infant, 1. 12. 
 
 426. Bandite, now bandit, an outlaw (Italian, hnndito). Rhakspere 
 has bntidetio. See Skeat. Mountaineer no longer retains its bad 
 sense (as in Shakspere). since civilization has reached most mountain- 
 ous regions. 
 
 428. Very, here an adjective ; it is stronger than true or real (Latin 
 verus), and is nearly equivalent to " in its own person." Cf. 1. 646. 
 
 429. Cf. UAlleg , 11. 3-4, and note to 1 8, and Pope's Eloisa to Abe- 
 lard, 1, 20 : "Ye grots and caverns shagg'd with horrid thorn." 
 
 430. UnUenched, unflinching. See Skeat. Cf. Shakspere 's lines 
 quoted in note to II Pens., 1. 67. 
 
 432. ISome say, etc. It is usual to compare with this noble passage 
 the well-known lines in Hamlit (I., i , 158 seq.). 
 
 " Some say that, ever against that season comes 
 Wherein our Saviours birth is celebrated, 
 The bird of dawning singeth all night long: 
 And then, they s:iy, no spirit dares stir abroad." 
 
 Still closer to Milton's version are these lines from The Faithful Shep- 
 herdess (I., i., see note to 1. 205), which must have impressed Milton 
 at one time or another : 
 
 " Yet I have heard (my mother told it me 
 And now I do believe it), if I keep 
 My virgin -flower nncropt, pure, chaste, and fair, 
 
COMUS 127 
 
 No goblin, wood-god, fairy, elf, or fiend, 
 
 Satyr, or other power that haunts the groves, 
 
 Shall hurt ray body, or by vain illusion 
 
 Draw me to wander after idle fires ; 
 
 Or voices calling me in dead of night. 
 
 To make me follow, and so tole me on 
 
 Through mire and standing pools to find my ruin : 
 
 Sure there is a power 
 In that great name of virgin, that binds fast 
 All rude uncivil bloods, all appetites 
 That break their confines : then, strong chastity 
 Be thou my strongest guard, for here I'll dwell 
 In opposition against fate and hell! " 
 
 This is fine poetry, but Milton has far surpassed it. Cf. II. 205-220, 
 UAUeg., 1. 104, and Paradise Ijost, ix., 634-42. 
 
 433. Cf. II Pens., 1. 93 seq. and note. 
 
 434. Blue meagre hag. There were witches and spirits of various 
 colors, but whether "blue " is liere used to denote the sort of witch 
 or to describe her appearance is doubtful. 
 
 435. Curfew. See note to II. Pens., 1. 74. The stubborn ghost 
 who would not be exorcised (or "laid"), would be allowed to walk 
 abroad from curfew time till the first cock-crow. This superstition is 
 frequently referred to in poetry. The connection of evil spirits 
 with mines (1. 436) is also familiar. 
 
 436. Goblin. See note to L'Alleg., 1. 105. Stcart, swarthy, black. 
 Cf. Lycid., 1. 138. 
 
 438. Te, here singular, like our modern " you." 
 
 439. Scliools. The use of this word seems to imply that the speaker 
 will proceed, as he does do, to argue about Greek mythology, just as 
 a member of one of the Greek philosophic schools might have done. 
 
 440. Testify, bear witness to. or give evidence of. 
 
 442. Silcer-shafted. Bell calls attention to the applicability of this 
 adjective, whether Diana be regarded as goddess of the chase, bearing 
 arrows, or as goddess of the moon, sending forth silver rays. 
 
 443. Blinded, brindled, i.e., streaked or spotted Shakspere has 
 brinded cat, in the Witches' Song in Macbeth (IV., i., 1). See Skeat. 
 
 444. Mountmn pard, probably the cat-o'-mountain, or catamount, a 
 kind of wildcat. Cf. 1. 71. 
 
 445. Bdt, arrow. 
 
 447. Snaky-headed Gorgon shield. The Gorgons were three mon- 
 strous sisters, of whom many legends were told. Medusa alone was 
 mortal, and Perseus overcame her by the aid of the gods. Her snaky 
 
128 NOTES 
 
 head was placed by " wise Minerva" upon her aegis with the effect 
 described in the poem. See Glass. Diet. Cf. Paradise Lost, ii., Gl 1 . 
 
 449. Freezcd, illustrates the tendency of the weak conjugation to 
 invade the strong 
 
 451. Dashed, stronger than our modern " abashed " 
 
 453. Blank, utter, complete. 
 
 455. Livened. See note to DAUeg., 1. 63. Lackey, a verb derived 
 from " lackey," a foot boy, but here used in the more dignified sense 
 of "to minister." 
 
 459. Oft converse. Oft is an adjective, meaning " frequent." Con- 
 verse, communion, intercourse. 
 
 461. Temple. The metaphor is scriptural and Shaksperian. 
 
 463. Turns. We should naturally expect the subjunctive here 
 after the use of "begin ' in 1. 460. Perhaps the indicative is used to 
 emphasize as a fact the result indicated, whereas "begin to cast" not 
 being intended to be definite as to duration and amount, can well be 
 put in the subjunctive. So '• be made," being indefinite as to time, 
 is used in 1. 463. If Milton had written "turn," it would have 
 been doubtful whether he meant it to be an infinitive, like "to cast," 
 or a subjunctive. Warton solves the difficulty by printing " begins." 
 
 465. Lavish, a very forcible epithet, referring to the incontinence, 
 the unrestrained character of the ''act of sin." For lemi, which orig- 
 inally meant "ignorant," see Skeat. The whole passage is based 
 upon aSocratic doctrine expounded in Plato's Phcedo (81). 
 
 468. Iinbodies and imbrntes, takes on a body and becomes brutish. 
 Both verbs are used intransitively, but are now nearly always em- 
 ployed in a transitive sense. Cf. Paradise Lost, ix. , 166 : 
 "This essence to incarnate and imbrute." 
 
 Milton did not coin " imbrute.' as is sometimes stated, for Warton 
 found it (or rather "<'/wbrute") in Giles Fletcher. 
 
 471. Charnel, a place of burial containing carcases (Latin cai-o). 
 Cf. carnal (1. 474). See Skeat 
 
 473. As loth. Supply "being." Lt refers to some one of the 
 " shadows." If taken with " soul," as Bell suggests, one must allow 
 for a change of gender, as "soul " is referred to by " her " and " she " 
 in the passage above. 
 
 474. And linked. Supply " having" or possibly " being." Carnal, 
 cf. 1. 471. Sensualty, sensuality. 
 
 478. This most exquisite verse of a noble and well-known passage 
 has been often compared with Shakspere's 
 
 '• As sweet and musical 
 As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair." 
 
 ~L. L. L.,l\., iii., 342-3. 
 
COMUS 129 
 
 480. Crude, raw (Latin crudus), unripe (cf. Li/cid., 1. 3) ; hence, 
 unrefined, coarse, as liere. Note well the epithets in this passage, all 
 of which are admirably chosen. Crabbed (1. 477) may mean either bit- 
 ter, sour (like a crab-apple), or peevish, irritable, the former meaning 
 being preferable, as more in contrast with ncctared (1. 479), an ad- 
 jective derived from the well-known " nectar," or drink of the 
 gods. 
 
 482. MethougJit. See note to 1. 171. 
 
 483. Night- foundered, i.e , lost in the night, as ships are foundered 
 in the sea. Cf. Paradise Lost, i. , 204, where Bentley read "nigh- 
 foundered 1 " 
 
 484. Neighboi; neighboring. Cf. 1. 576. Spenser in his Sheplierd's 
 Cnlendnr, Eel. vi., has "neyghbour groves" on which the " glosse " 
 comments : " A straunge phrase in English, but word for word express- 
 ing the Latine vicina nemora." 
 
 487. Best dr<tw. we had best draw (our swords). 
 
 489. Defense, ie., self-defense. 
 
 490-658. The Attendant Spirit now enters, attired like the shepherd 
 Thyrsis. He inquires after his young mistress, and finding that the 
 Brothers have lost her, concludes that it was certainly she whom he 
 had heard singing near the haunts of Comus (whom he describes for 
 the benefit of his hearers). The two Brothers lament her fate, but 
 the Elder remains firm in his philosophy. Th^'rsis then tells them 
 how he has secured from another shepherd a magic plant of more 
 virtue than the Homeric Moly, by means of which the enchant- 
 ments of the lascivious god may be overcome. The Elder Brother 
 then bids him lead them on to the rescue. 
 
 The entire passage is in blank verse of the kind already described, 
 save 11. 495-512. which are in rhymed couplets. Milton may, as 
 lias been suggested, have intended to imitate in these lines, which 
 describe Thyrsis, the cadences of pastoral poems, e.g.. The ShepJi^rd'.'i 
 Calendar, Britannia's Piti^toraU, etc. This reason does not apply with 
 much force to the short dialogue (11. 509-12), and Milton had plenty of 
 examples in the regular drama of this apparently irregular dropping 
 into rhyme. He may have indulged in it merely for the sake of 
 variety, or as Warton says, he may have " caught a fit of rhyming 
 from Fletchers pastoral comedy." The dramatic quality of the 
 scene is no higher than that displayed elsewhere in the masque, and 
 there is only one poetical passage that is universally known, that 
 which concludes with 
 
 " I was all ear 
 And took in strains that might create a soul 
 Under the ribs of Death" (11. 560-62). 
 9 
 
130 NOTES 
 
 The repetition involved in the description of Comus (11. 520-539), and 
 the second long speech of Thyrsis, with its description of the plant 
 Haemony, seem to delay the action just wher*^ it should hegin to 
 gather swiftness, and to make the scene too similar in most respects 
 to the preceding one. See the Introductory Note as to the propriety 
 of these strictures. 
 
 490. That hallo. The Attendant Spirit has plainly shouted before 
 entering. The stage direction given in Lawes's edition of 1637 is ex 
 plicit on this point. ISlionld. The student will be much assisted 
 here and elsewhere by recalling the radical significance of this word 
 (obligation). 
 
 491. Milton may have purposely married sound to sense by giving 
 this verse its strident close. 
 
 492. Stress you)ig. This is required by the metre, and is the natural 
 emphasis by which an old servant would distinguish his masters, 
 father and son. 
 
 494. Thyrsis See note to VAUeg., 1. 83. In the EpitnpJiium Da- 
 monin Milton himself is Thyrsis. In M. Arnold's noble elegy Clough 
 is Thyrsis and Arnold Corydon. 
 
 495. Huddling. Originally crowding, then performing a thing 
 hastily (Skeat) ; liere hurrying. There is an obvious remi. iscence 
 of the Orpheus legend in the verse. Madrigal., a pastoral song then 
 much in favor. Lawes and Milton's father had composed them, but 
 the compliment conveyed by the passage is, of course, intended for 
 Lawes, wlio was taking the part of Thyrsis. Cf. 11. 80-88 and Mar- 
 lowe's Passionate Shepherd : 
 
 " By shallow rivers to whose falls 
 Melodious birds sing madrigals." 
 
 Warton and Dr. Johnson complain that the whole passage delays the 
 action, which is true, but we should not care to part with it. 
 
 501. Ne.vtjoy. Bell explains this as referring to the Younger Broth- 
 er, i.e., thou, his next joy. It seems probable, liowever, that " next " 
 may be equivalent to "closest," " dearest," and that the phrase may 
 belong to the Elder Brother, who alone addresses 'J'liyrsis throughout 
 the scene. Verity, who paraphrases "next" as "dearest," would 
 seem by so doing to hold this view. 
 
 502. Toy. Of. n Pens., I 4. 
 
 503 Stealth, (most probably) the tiling stolen (by the wolf), but it is 
 possible that the word may be used in its abstract sense of stealthiness. 
 
 506. 2'(?, compared to, in comparison with. 
 
 508. How chance, how does it happen that (Abbott, § 37). The ex- 
 pression is frequent in Shakspere, who seems to treat " chance " as a 
 
coMua 131 
 
 verb followed by a noun clause The fuller form ' how chances it," 
 occurs in ILimlet, II., ii., 343. 
 
 509. Sadly, here seriously, as frequently in authors of the time. 
 Cf. 1. 189. 
 
 511. Ay me! Ah me ! (Ital.. ahiine ; Old French, aymi). There is 
 no connection with ay or aye, meaning affirmation. See Skeat. Cf. 
 Lycid., 11. 56, 154. "' True " and " shew" rhyme. 
 
 512. Prithee, I pray thee. 
 
 513. Fe. See note to 1. 216. ' The nominative is used here for the 
 dative. Vai7i, futile, beside the point. Fabulous. " mere matter of 
 legend " (Verity). 
 
 515. Sage. Cf. L' Alley., 1. 17, II Pens. J. 117. Heavenly Muse. Cf. 
 Paradise Lost., i., 6; iii., 19. 
 
 516. Storied, told, related. See note to Jl Pens., 1. 159. 
 
 517. Chimceras. The particular Chimaera sung by Homer and Virgil 
 (who are the chief poets referred to above) was a monster with a 
 lion's head, goat's body, and dragon's tail. It breathed fire and was, 
 like Cerberus (see note V Alley., 1. 2), the offspring of Echidna and 
 Typhon. Hellerophon, mounted upon Pegasus, overcame it. Cf. the 
 modern use of the word in the sense of an extravagant fancy. En- 
 chanted isU'S refers probably to those of Circe and Calypso (Odyssey). 
 Verity thinks the reference is to the " Wandering Islands " of the 
 Fairy Quteii, II., xii., 11 seq., and to Tassos account of the isle of 
 Armida. {Jenisulem Delivered, Cantos xv.-xvi.) The phrase "of 
 old '■ tells, however, somewhat against this view, as well as I. 518. 
 Cf. the great passage in Paradise Lost, ii., 8.4-628, especially the 
 concluding verse, 
 
 " Gorgons and Hydras and Chimaeras dire." 
 
 518. Refers to the visits to Hades of mortals, like Orpheus and 
 Hercules. 
 
 519. Be. See note to 1. 12. 
 
 520. Navel, centre. Pindar calls the temple of Apollo at Delphi, 
 " the navel of the earth " (Warton). 
 
 526. Murmurs, murmured spells or enchantments. 
 
 529. Fixes, ha.?, "poison" for subject and "likeness" for object. 
 Unmoldiny, etc., i.e., turning into another shape the marks of thought 
 or reason stamped (" mintage " and " charactered ") on the face. 
 
 531. Crofts, etc., small hillside fields overhanging ("brow") the 
 low (" bottom ") glade. Brow is here a verb {cf. L'AUeg., 1. 8), and 
 bottom an adjective. Verity makes "brow" equivalent to "slope 
 down," but "overhang" makes the picture wilder and conforms bet- 
 ter to Milton's other uses of the word. 
 
132 NOTES 
 
 533. Rout. See notes to first Stage Directions. Monstrous. See 
 note to Lycid., 1. 158. 
 
 534. Stabled. Those editors are probably right who regard this par- 
 ticiple as equivalent to '"in their dens." Cf. Paradise Lost, xi., 750- 
 53: 
 
 " And in their palaces, 
 Where luxury late reigned, sea-monsters whelped 
 And stabled." 
 
 Bell's reference to Aeneid, vi. , 179, where a wood is called " stabula 
 alta ferarum," supports this view. "Stabled" may also mean 
 "caught fast," but it seems better to consider it as used here in a 
 metaphorical sense. Browne's citation from Virgil, Ed., iii., 80, 
 "triste lupus stabulis," is beside the point, for there is no sign of 
 metaphor in the use of " stabulis." 
 
 535. Hecate. See note to 1. 135. 
 
 539. Unweeting. Miltonic for " unwitting ;" " weet " being a cor- 
 ruption of "wit," to know. See Skeat. Of. Fair Infant, 1. 23. 
 
 540. Bg then. Bell prefers to consider the relative '' when " 
 omitted, which would make the phrase nearly equivalent to " what 
 time" or " by the time that." The obvious alternative is to consider 
 the clause introduced as parenthetical ; this, to my ear, renders the 
 metrical effect less pleasing than that produced if the first interpreta- 
 tion be adopted. 
 
 542. Dew-hesj)rent , sprinkled with dew. " Besprent" is now obso- 
 lete save in poetry. See Cent. Diet. Some suppose knot-grass in- 
 tended for marjoram, others, for florin-grass. 
 
 544. Intericove, or interwoven (both forms were allowable). It is 
 hard to see how the participle can logically be connected with any other 
 word than " ivy," yet grammatically it seems to belong to "bank." 
 
 546. This line contains the gist of II Penseroso, of Fletcher's song, 
 "Hence all you vain delights," and of Burton's Abstract of Melan- 
 choly. 
 
 547. Meditate, etc., i.e., sing his pastoral ditties. Cf. note to Lycid . 
 1 66. 
 
 548. Had maybe equivalent to " should have," but not necessarily. 
 If " had her fill," refers to the close of the singing, the next sentence 
 forces the use of the auxiliary verb in a prose explanation ; but if the 
 phrase refers merely to the culmination of "fancy's" enjoyment 
 when the song was at its height, the verb may be explained as a sim- 
 ple preterite indicative. Close, *' the final cadence of a piece of 
 music" (Browne) ; it is the object of " ere " used as a preposition, or, 
 less probably, the subject of a supplied verb like " was made." 
 
 549. Wonted. See note to 1. 333. 
 
GOMUS 133 
 
 550. Barbarous. The student should trace the derivation of this 
 word ; he will then perceive its peculiar fitness here. '• Barbarous 
 dissonance " occurs again in Paradise Lost, vii., b3. 
 
 551. Them. " To " is omitted, as frequently among the Elizabethans. 
 Bell takes the pronoun to refer to --the sounds implied in disso- 
 nance ; " but it seems more likely that it refers loosely to those who 
 were making "the wonted roar," the epithet " wonted" having al- 
 ready referred back to Comus and his " monstrous rout," who would 
 be in the minds of both hearers and speaker. 
 
 553. Stop of sudden silence, etc., i.e., the pause in the "wonted 
 roar." which gives rise to sudden silence, and is caused by the com- 
 mand of Comus, when he perceives that the Lady is approaching (see 
 1. 145), affords respite or rest to the drowsy and affrighted steeds 
 " that draw the litter of close-curtained Sleep," who have been kept 
 in a state of uneasiness during the uproar. Whether these are the 
 steeds of Sleep or those of Night who draw her chariot in which Sleep 
 is borne along with her, does not clearly appear ; but Night is usu- 
 ally conveyed by steeds and Sleep is "dewy-feathered" {11 Pens., 
 1. 146). Warton shows that Claudiau and Statins transfer Night's 
 chariot and steeds to Sleep. The Cambridge MS. has '"drowsy 
 flighted," i.e., that fly drowsily, a reading that has commended itself 
 to some editors on account of the passage m2 Henry VI. (IV., i., 3-6), 
 in which occurs the line, 
 
 " Who, with their drowsy, slow and flagging wings " 
 
 —used with reference to the " jades " of Night. But it is obviously 
 less forcible to represent sudden silence as giving " respite " to steeds 
 already flying drowsily, than to represent it as giving respite to 
 steeds who were both drowsy and affrighted. That "frighted" is 
 " freighted " is even more untenable. The reading here adopted is 
 that of the three earliest editions. 
 
 554. Curtained is the epithet applied to Sleep in Macbeth (II., i., 
 
 51). 
 
 555. This verse refers to the Song (11. 230-243). The passage intro- 
 duced is one of extraordinary beauty. Compare Gray's use of the 
 epithet solemn-breathing in The Progress of Poisi/ : 
 
 " Oh ! Sovereign of the willing soul, 
 
 Parent of sweet and solemn-breathing airs, 
 Enchanting shell ! " 
 
 557. That even silence, etc. (So) that even Silence was taken (out 
 of herself ?) as by a spell before she was aware of it and was made to 
 wish that she might forego her nature and very existence, provided 
 
134 NOTES 
 
 that she couUi continually ("still") be so displaced \i.c., by the 
 song). Editors naturally comjiare Paradise Lost, ir. , 603 : " She all 
 uight long her amorous descant sung ; Silence was pleased," where 
 "she "' is the nightingale. 
 
 558. Took, charmed is Shaksperian. Cf. Uamlet, I., i. , 162-63. 
 (Verity.) 
 
 560. All limits "I. ' It will be interesting for the student to make 
 a collection of passages and poems in which the greater English poets 
 have paid tribute to the power of music. He will begin with Shak- 
 spere's great lines in M. of F., V., i. , 70-88, and will speedily add 
 Drydeu's two noble odes, and Collins on the Passions, with many 
 other poems and passages, none of which will surpass this bold and 
 sublime image of Milton's, which is as likely to have been founded on 
 the story in Genesis (a dead man taking the place of the sleeping 
 Adam and his own soul being put back instead of anotlier soul being 
 new-created), as upon the illustration in Quarles's Emblems of an 
 infant inside a skeleton, according to the supposition of some editor.?. 
 There is no need, however, of either of these far-fetched explana- 
 tions. 
 
 565. Harrowed is probably a metaphorical use of the verb derived 
 from " harrow," tlie agricultural instrument used for breaking the 
 soil. That it is here a variant of '' liarried " is improbable. 
 
 567. Near. Supply " to " rather than " is," in order to obtain the 
 better rendering of the line. 
 
 568. Laims. Cf. note to LAlleg., 1. 71. 
 
 572. Signs. Explained in 1. 644. 
 
 573. Prevent. Anticipate (probably). 
 
 574. Wislied. We now say " wished for." Cf. Paradise Lost, i., 
 208; vi., 150. 
 
 575. Such two, two people of this and that, or such and such, ap- 
 pearance. 
 
 576. Neighbor. See note to 1. 4S4. 
 
 579. This line will be clearer if " whicli continued," or some such 
 expression, be supplied after " flight." 
 
 584. Keep, is most probably an imperative, as is lean ; but it is 
 possible to supply "I " with both verbs, or with the first only. 
 
 58p. /Sa/(S^y, with confidence. P< 9vor?, sentence. 
 
 586. For me, as far as I am concerned. 
 
 591. If " should prove " or "to prove " be supplied after " meant," 
 the line will be clear. L. 592 shows that which is not a dative. 
 
 592. Happy refers to the result of the "trial." The phrase 
 hardly means " trial of happiness." This entire passage is notable 
 for its high philosophy and has seemed to many to be couched in 
 equally high poetry. It is not, in my opinion, up to Milton's highest 
 
COM us 135 
 
 reaches iu the latter respect, except perhaps in the noble lines em- 
 bodying ancient conceptions of earth and sk}- : 
 
 ' ' The pillared firmament is rottenness, 
 And earth's base built on stubble." 
 
 The image immediately preceding (11. 595-97), based probably on the 
 idea that evil, being material as compared with goodness, will be re- 
 solved into a chaos similar to that oiit of which the material universe 
 has sprang, and into which it is to be dissolved, is perhaps all the more 
 suggestive on account of its lack of concreteness, but does not appeal 
 so vividly to the imagination. LI. 589-91) are seemingly too epigram- 
 matic for the greatest poetic effect, and there is a suspicion of rhetoric 
 in 11. 599-609, which is rarer in Milton than in any other of our poets 
 — so rare indeed that a critic would forbear even to hint such a thing 
 were he not anxious to set off Milton's sublimest heights against his 
 lower levels, which in their turn may be set otf by comparison with 
 the highest levels of other men. 
 
 597. Self-consumed. A syllable is lacking in this verse. As Milton 
 did not sound the ed, he probably meant the extra pause to fill up 
 the foot. 
 
 602. Foi\ as for. Let him, etc. , is equivalent to a concessive clause. 
 Oirt. See note to 1. 214. Cf. with this part of the speech Schiller's 
 lines in Wilhdm Tell, I , iv., beginning 
 
 " Und wohnf er droben auf dem Eispalast." 
 
 604. Acheron, a bitter stream of Hades, often used for the whole 
 region. Cf. Paradise Lost, ii. , 578, "Sad Acheron of sorrow, black 
 and deep." Todd noted the phrase " sooty flags," iu a similar con- 
 nection m P. Fletcher's Locusts (1637). 
 
 605. Harpies and ITydrns. The Harpies were three monsters that 
 befouled whatever they touched. They had the face of a woman, 
 the body of a vulture, wings, and sharp claws. Their attack on 
 Aeneas is described in the Aeneid, iii., 212. The Hydra was a many- 
 headed monster, the offspring of Echidna and Typhon, that infested 
 the neighborhood of Lake Lerna in the Peloponnesus, and was finally 
 destroyed by Hercules The plural form is perhaps used here, as 
 Masson and Bell suggest, as " a general name for monstrous water- 
 serpents." The names of both classes of monsters are familiarly used 
 in literature. 
 
 606. Ind, often used for " India." Cf. Paradise Lost, ii., 2 : 
 
 " Outshone the wealth of Ormus and of Ind." 
 
136 NOTES 
 
 007. Purchase (O. F., pnrchacer, cliase-for) originally meant " to 
 acquire," or, as a noun, "acquisition." Cf. its legal use, as the act of 
 obtaining an estate in any manner other than by inheritance or 
 escheat. Latterly the idea of money given in exchange has been in- 
 volved with the original idea of acquisition. Here, as often with the 
 Elizabethans, the word is equivalent to "prey," "booty." BkcA: 
 Notice the frequent use in poetry of this adverb to intensify a verb 
 in re-. Cf. back recoil, 1. 593. 
 
 610. Tet, i.e., in spite of all that he is about to say. Emprise, en- 
 terprise. 
 
 Gil. Stead, good, advantage. See note to li Pens., 1. 3. 
 
 612. Other, different; hence the adverb "far." 
 
 614. Unthread, loosen, unknit. Verity's notion that perhaps we 
 ought to press the metaphor of unthreading a needle is exceedingly 
 queer. 
 
 617. Relation, narration. Care and utmost shift", etc., i.e., the fact 
 that he was at his wits' ends considering " how to secure the Lady from 
 surprisal " brought to his mind, etc. Care, consideration. Shifts, 
 the contrivances a man is put to when he is in an embarrassing posi- 
 tion (hence the expression, " a shifty man"). Both nouns are qual- 
 ified by the clause involved in 1. 618. That " shifts" means simply 
 " reflection," as Verity holds, is unlikely. 
 
 619. Milton's best friend, Charles Diodati. son of an Italian physi- 
 cian living in London on account of his Protestantism, is supposed to 
 be referred to here, because Milton, in the Epitaphium Damonis, has a 
 reference to the latter's knowledge of medicinal botany, which seems 
 to indicate that he was in the habit of instructing the poet therein : 
 
 " Tu mihi percurres medicos, tua gramina, succos, 
 Helleborumque. humilesque crocos, foliumque hyacinthi, 
 Quasque habet ista palus herbas, artesque niedentum" (11. 150-52). 
 
 Verse 620 indicates that the " certain shepherd lad" was not much to 
 look at, and I can discover nothing in the Latin poems connected with 
 Diodati to show that Milton was ever impressed by any charm in him 
 save that natural to a genial and cultivated nature. The insistence on 
 the lack of personal pulchritude and the rather leading position taken 
 by the speaker are not, however, exactly in accord with the prevailing 
 tone of the Epit. Bam. and Eleg. Lib., i. and vi. 
 
 621. Virtuous. See note- to i^ Pens., 1. 113. Note how well the 
 pastoral effect of these lines is maintained ; the diction is smooth and 
 straightforward and the rhythm simple and sweet. 
 
 626. Scrip, wallet. 
 
 627. Simples, herbs used as single ingredients in compounded med- 
 icines. 
 
COMUS 137 
 
 630. Culled me out, picked out for me. Me is an ethical dative. 
 
 633. Bore. The grammatical subject is '"leaf," but as leaves can 
 hardly be said to bear flowers, we must either substitute " plant " or 
 "root" as subject, or else imagine that Milton used " leaf" to repre- 
 sent the whole of the plant showing above ground. He may. how- 
 ever, use " bore" as indicating merely that the flower rose above the 
 leaves. Metrically this line is marked by irregularities not uncom- 
 mon in dramatic verse ; verse 636 is also irregular, but is more easily 
 read when " med'cinal " is properly slurred. 
 
 634. Like, i.e., ww-esteemed. 
 
 635. Clouted shoon, patched (whether for mending or strengthening) 
 shoes. " Clumsy" or " heavy " is evidently the epithet here intended 
 rather than "patched," to indicate the poverty of the wearer. 
 "Slioon" is an archaic plural familiar in our older poetry, Shakspere 
 having " clouted shoon " more than once. 
 
 636 Moly, a magical plant that Hermes gave Ulysses to enable the 
 latter to resist the wiles of Circe. Od., x., 280, seq. In 1. 651 Milton 
 seems to have the same Homeric passage in his mind. 
 
 638. Haemony. Milton appears to have invented the plant and 
 given it a name. It has been thought that he called it after Uaeino- 
 nia, an old name for Thessaly. the land of magic. Cf. Spenser's 
 AstropTiel, 1. 3 : 
 
 " About the grassie bancks of Haemony." 
 
 If Coleridge's supposition (referred to by Bell), that the prickles and 
 golden flower signify the sorrows and triumphs of the Christian life, 
 be accepted, the qualification " but not in tliis soil " must be regarded 
 as a not altogether lovely puritanical thrust at the poet's native land. 
 It then becomes interesting to inquire what Milton meant by the 
 phrase "in another country." Throughout the whole passage one is 
 reminded of 17ie Faithful SJiepherdess {II., ii.). 
 
 639. Sovran. See note to 1. 41. Has the familiar use of "sover- 
 eign" (of the highest efficiency), in connection with cures, medicines, 
 and the like, been influenced by the idea of the royal touch curing 
 diseases like the king's evil ? 
 
 640. A dry east wind was supposed to produce mildew. 
 
 641. The Furies or Eumenides were grim ministers of divine ven- 
 geance, who punished the guilty both on earth and in Hades. They 
 are usually represented as three in number, and are frequently men- 
 tioned in literature ancient and modern. See Class. Diet., and cf. 
 especially the legend of Orestes. The epithet " ghastly" and the use 
 of "apparition" tell against Verity's idea that Milton meant simply 
 " evil fairies." Verse 640 sums up the more trivial uses of the plant ; 
 the present verse shows its highest value. 
 
138 NOTES 
 
 642. Pursed, etc., i.e., put it in liis bag, paying small attention 
 ("reckoning," cf. Lycid.^ 1. 116) to it. Note the metaphorical use of 
 " purse," i.e., to wrinkle up the lips like the mouth of a bag when it is 
 drawn tight. The carrying of a plant or other charm was a common 
 feature of mediaeval romances ; it is not entirely abandoned auiong 
 rural people. 
 
 645. Disguised. See 1. 166. 
 
 646. Lime-twigs, i.e., snares spread by "his spells," referring to the 
 practice of catching birds on tvrigs smeared with bird-lime. 
 
 649. Necrovianctr. Let the student search out the derivation of 
 this word, which has nothing to do with " niger," black, as the 
 phrase " black art " would imply. Another touch from the romances. 
 The Fairy Queen (II., xii., 57) probably furnished another source of 
 inspiration, and perhaps the Tempest and Tasso were remembered. 
 
 655. Editors think this line founded on Aeneid, viii., 252-3, where 
 Cacus, a son of Vulcan, pursued by Hercules, does " vomit smoke." 
 The diction and rhythm of the four last lines of this speech are linely 
 Miltonic. 
 
 658. Bear is an optative. 
 
 Stage Directions. Deliciotisness is put for things that have the quali- 
 ties summed up in the abstract noun. Goes about, undertakes. See 
 Oc7it. Diet, s.v. "go." 
 
 659-813. The scene now changes from the "wild wood" to a 
 " stately palace." While his rabble feasts, Comus endeavors to tempt 
 the Lady to drain his magic liquor. Though held fastbound in an 
 enchanted chair, she resists him nobly, in spite of his eloquent recital 
 of the charms of licentious pleasure. She replies so finely in defence 
 of virtue that her adversary is compelled to confess to himself the fear 
 that her words are ' ' set off by some superior power " He nerves him- 
 self, however, to one last appeal before the Brothers appear upon the 
 scene. 
 
 In dramatic power there is a considerable advance over the two pre- 
 ceding scenes. The characters both of Comus and the Lady gain in 
 strength, and it is almost needless to say that their respective tributes 
 to pleasure and virtue are couched in the nobleft poetry. There is no 
 such imaginative image as that wliich ennobles verses 560-62, biit for 
 pure exquisiteness of diction it would be hard to parallel such verses 
 as 
 
 " Love-darting eyes or tresses like the morn " (753), 
 or 
 
 " Against the sun clad power of Chastity '" (782), 
 or 
 
 " the sage 
 And serious doctrine of Virginity " (786-7). 
 
COMUS 139 
 
 GOl. Daphne, a nymph wlio was pursaed by Apollo, and was at her 
 prayer changed into a laurel tree. Hence the epithet " root bound," 
 ■which may grammatically agree with either "you'" or "Daphne." 
 The whole construction, while it would be intolerable in prose, is 
 nevertheless highly poetical and easily comprehended. 
 
 GG5. While, so long as 
 
 GG8. Be. See note to 1. 12. 
 
 GO!). Another ideal genealogy without full personification. Cf. the 
 opening lines of VAUegro and II Ptnseroso. 
 
 670. El turns. This word seems to be used either with reference to 
 the quality of " freshness" in the blood, or else to indicate that the 
 idea of " sap " is also involved. 
 
 673. Cardial julep. "Cordial" is something good for the heart. 
 " Julep" is a sweet drink. See Skeat for its derivation from a Per- 
 sian word meaning "rose-water ; " as well as for "syrup" (1. 674), 
 which is from an Arabic word meaning "to drink." " Wini julep'' 
 is a familiar drink in jiarts of America. The passage beginning with 
 this line and ending with 1. 705 is in the Cambridge MS. transposed 
 and inserted after 1. 755, 11. 706-755 following immediately on 1. 671. 
 The cliange heightens the dramatic effect. 
 
 673. His, its. See note to Jl Pens. , 1. 128. 
 
 674. Compare with Keatss exquisite verse in The Ete of St. Agnes 
 (xxx.), "And lucent syrops, tinct with cinnamon." 
 
 675. Nepenthes meant in Greek " sorrow dispelling." The drink 
 referred to is sufficiently described in the verses that follow, which 
 are based on Odys., iv., 219-30. Cf. F. Q., IV., iii., 43. Jove-born 
 Helena is too familiar in literature to require description, but it may 
 be as well to remind the student that Marlowe's Faustus summed up 
 the mysterious power of lier beauty when he asked : 
 
 " Was this the face that launch'd a thousand ships, 
 And burnt the topless towers of Ilium ? " 
 
 678. This verse will be plainer if "nor is it" be under.stood be- 
 fore it. 
 
 685. Uncxempt condition, etc., a condition from which there is no 
 exemption for frail mortals. L. 687 gives this condition. 
 
 688. This line is an adjective clause agreeing with "you " (1. 682). 
 If a semicolon be used at the end of the preceding verse, it will be 
 easier to understand "you" than to go back so far to make the agree- 
 ment. Several verses in this speech recall some of the arguments 
 used in the early sonnets of Shakspere. 
 
 694. Aspects, countenances, rather than general appearances or ob- 
 jects, as the next verse shows. 
 
140 NOTES 
 
 695. Oughly -headed. Milton's spelling of " ugly-headed " (see first 
 Stage Directions). Guard is an optative. 
 
 698. Visor ed falsehood, i.e., falsehood making use of a false face 
 (visor, mask), referring to Comus's disguise See 1. 166. 
 
 700. Liquorish, an obsolete spelling of "lickerish," tempting to the 
 appetite. 
 
 702. Treasonous offer. "Offer" is here used, of course, for the 
 thing offered ; it is called treasonable ("treasonous"), probably be- 
 cause to taste it would be an act of treason to Virtue. The offer can 
 hardly be treasonable in itself, for Comus is true to his nature and 
 principles in making it. None but such. etc. The idea is found in 
 Euripides {Medea, 1. 618). 
 
 707. This line has been variously commented on. Milton repre- 
 sents to himself the Stoic philosophers as learned men or "doctors," 
 who would, if translated to his own times, be adorned with hoods or 
 robes trimmed with fur. Then he qualifies these "doctors" with the 
 epithet "badge," which seems to mean literally lambskin with the 
 wool dressed outward as worn on certain hoods, etc. This would al- 
 most justify the charge of tautology, but as " budge " also has the 
 derived meaning of "solemu," this charge fails. 
 
 708. This line refers to the well-known tub of Diogenes, one of the 
 chief philosophers of the Cynic school. 
 
 714. But all, etc , except entirely. Curious, as frequently in the 
 sense of " fastidious," " nicely discriminating." 
 
 715. Set. Supply " she." 
 
 719. Hutched, stored up, from "hutch " a box. Cf. rabbit-hutch. 
 
 720. To Rtore her cJdldren loith. It is better to supply " them ' and 
 preserve the parallelism with verse 717. "Wherewith" makes no 
 change in the meaning, but seems to impair the force of the paral- 
 lelism, which Milton must have intended to introduce. Store, fur- 
 nish. 
 
 721. Pet, a peevish or capricious fit. Pulse, i.e., such vegetables as 
 peas, beans, etc. 
 
 722. Frieze, a coarse woollen cloth, originally made in Friesland. 
 
 728. Who refers to Nature. Bell makes it refer to her \n "her 
 sons," i.e., " Live like Nature's bastards, not the sons of her who," 
 etc., which to my mind, by throwing an emphasis on " her," destroys 
 much of the force of the antithesis between " l)astards" and "sons." 
 in 1. 727. 
 
 729. Waste, over abundant ; hence, superfluous. There is no need 
 to adopt the suggestion that the word is here used like a participle, 
 i.e., wasted. See Cent. Diet. 
 
 730. Cumbered, i.e., encumbered with a heap (Low Latin, cumbrus) 
 of things. Note Milton's command of epithets : '* Surcharged," 
 
C0MU8 141 
 
 "strangled" {i.e., suffocated), "cumbered," " darked " (?>. , dark- 
 ened), " o' erfr aught " (see note to 1. 855), etc. Plumes, wings. 
 731. Over-mnltitude, outnumber. 
 
 733. Emblaze, set in a blaze. 
 
 734. Milton's MS. (as Bell notes) gives " bestud the centre with 
 their starlight," where " centre " is centre of the earth. But for this 
 fact one would naturally construe " the deep" (1. 733) to mean the sea, 
 and imagine the diamonds below sending up their rays to be reflected 
 like stars upon the surface (" forehead ") of the waters, and one would 
 support this view, as Verity does, by referring to various passages in 
 Shakspere in which the jewels of the deep are mentioned. Then the 
 question would arise whether "they below" refers, as Verity holds, to 
 men (Grk. , ol Karw), or to monsters of the deep, men hardl}' having 
 " .shameful brows " with respect to the light of the sun. But Milton's 
 use of "centre" makes one suspect that he passed rapidly from the 
 " sea o'erfraught " to the centre of the earth once more {cf. 11. 718-19), 
 where diamonds would more naturally be found, and conceived it as 
 a great hollow, the vault of which ("forehead") would be flaming with 
 gems, whose light would finally inure the gnomes and other spirits " to 
 gaze upon the sun with shameless brows." "Deep" is used techni- 
 cally in mining, but its appearance here in the sense of " the depths 
 of earth " would certainly be unusual. The whole passage, however 
 one may understand this particular part of it. is magnificent, and in 
 reading it one is reminded not merely of the arguments of Lucretius 
 {rf. De Rerum Naiura, i., 159-183) but of his rolling periods when 
 he is at his best. 
 
 737. Coy, shy. Cozened, beguiled, cheated. 
 
 744. It, i.e.. Beauty. The underlying idea of the passage is familiar 
 enough in poetry. Cf. Herrick's "Gather ye rosebuds," Waller's 
 Rose, Shakspere's early sonnets, etc. Warton's quotation from Mid- 
 summer NighVs Dream, I., i., 77-79, is singulaily apposite : 
 
 " But earthlier happy is the rose distilld 
 Than that which, withering on the virgin tliorn, 
 Grows, lives and dies in single blessedness." 
 
 745. Brag, i.e., something to boast of, cause of pride. Compare 
 this verse with 1. 739 and notice the parallelism and contrast 
 
 747. Most, the largest number of people possible. 
 
 748. Compare with the derivation here given that of " courtly" in 
 1. 325. It is very doubtful whether any humorous quality is intended 
 to attach to the play on words. The same play is found in Shaks- 
 pere, T. G. of v., I., i., 2. 
 
 750. Sorri/ grain, not comely in color. See note to 11 Pens., 1. 33. 
 
142 NOTES 
 
 751. Simipler, a pattern piece of embroidery or other needlework. 
 Tease, to card or comb. Husicife^s, housewife's (note pronuuciatiou 
 and cf. hussy). The intention is to select a specimen both of the 
 fancy and of the useful work done by house-keeping women. 
 
 752. What need. See note to 1. 362. Vermeil-tinctured, vermilion- 
 dyed, or colored like vermilion (from vermieulus, a little worm, i.e., 
 the cochineal insect). 
 
 753. Commentators have noted that Homer speaks of " the fair- 
 tressed Dawn" (Odys., v. ,390); Sylvester had used "love-darting 
 eyn," and Pope inherited it from Milton {Megy to tJie Memory of an 
 Unfortunate Lady, 1. 34). 
 
 755. The passage from 1. 737 to 1. 755 is omitted from the 
 Bridgewater MS., and lience was not spoken in the actual per- 
 formance. 
 
 758. As mirts eyes. Supply "he has charmed" after "as." The 
 first six lines of the speech are not addressed directly to Com us, but are 
 hardly to be regarded as an aside. They are rather intended to show 
 the Lady's scorn, and to give the "Juggler" a view of the inward 
 workings of her mind. 
 
 759. Pranked, decked out in. Ritle.% rules of action. 
 
 760. Bolt, or boult, to sift, as in milling, here to refine or make 
 subtle the arguments employed. See Skeat for the queer history of 
 its descent from Low Latin barra, a coarse red cloth. This is much 
 preferable to taking bolt as equivalent to " shoot out." 
 
 763. Would, wished. 
 
 765. To, for. 
 
 767. Cf. BPens., 1. 46, and Efer/. Lib., vi., 55-78. 
 
 773. In scanning slur " unsuperfluous " and " even " and give " pro- 
 portions" four syllables. Compare the content of these lines with 
 the propaganda of modern philanthropists and advocates of socialism, 
 and note how thoroughly the Lady voices Milton's own well-known 
 opinions on the subject of personal purity. 
 
 774. No whit (nought), not in the least. 
 
 776 Due, duly. Supply "would be" after "praise." Note the 
 superb scorn of the lines that immediately follow. 
 
 779. The passage from this line to 1 806 is wanting in both the 
 Carnbridfje and Bridgewater MSS. Milton's additions give us some 
 admirable verses we could not well spare. 
 
 780. Enow, enough. See note to Ljycid., 1. 114. 
 
 783. Fain, glad or gladly. End, purpose. The rhyme introduced 
 here is best avoided in blank verse. Cf. 11. 828-29. Compare this 
 portion of the speech with 11. 420-475. 
 
 785. Notion, idea. 
 
 790. Dear (" precious") and gay are both used to express contempt, 
 
GOMUS 143 
 
 and perhaps there is a desire to show the change of mood in the pass- 
 ing for one moment from the sing<ilar to tlie plural pronoun. 
 
 791. Fe7ice, art of defence (.here by cunning arguments). 
 
 793. Uncontrolled, uncontrollable (probably). 
 
 797. Bntte, dull, insensible. Editors compare Horace, Odes, I., 
 xxxiv" , 9, " bruta tellus." Nerves, sinews. Cf. the closing lines with 
 Prospero's great speech in The Tempest (IV., i., 151 scq.), a play which 
 one is frequently reminded of in reading Comus. 
 
 801. Set off, supported, backed by. LI. 800-80G are an aside. 
 
 802. Thmigh shuddering, a transferred epithet. Supply "I am" 
 after it. Comus himself shudders under the cold sweat that bathes him. 
 
 804. Erebus, a place of nether darkness through which the Shades 
 had to pass on' their way to Hades. The whole passage refers to the 
 war between Zeus and the Titans, who espoused Saturn's cause, and 
 to the punishment inflicted on the giants. 
 
 807. Mere, only, or absolute. Direct, directly. The next line is 
 equivalent tp 'the rules of our organized company," but there is 
 hardly any reason to liold with Keightley that we have here a hunwr- 
 oas application of the language of universities. Warton thinks Milton 
 was ridiculing the Established Church through its Canon Law. But 
 he had in 1. ;591 (see note) described the typical mediaeval ascetic with 
 no touch of scorn, and even here when putting a distinctly ecclesias- 
 tical expression into the mouth of such a character as Comus, he may 
 have thought rather of its poetic applicability than of its inherent 
 satire. Satiric and humorous touches are not usually characteristic of 
 poetry of such high type as this portion of Govms. 
 
 810. Melancholy was regarded as one of the four humors of the 
 body ; it was heavy and corrupted the blood by settling down like the 
 dregs' of wine. Gf. Burton's Anatomy, passim, and Sam. Agon., 1. 
 599 seq. 
 
 811. Straight. See note to DAlleg., 1. 69. 
 
 814-889. The Brothers now rush in and drive Comus and his rout 
 " in," i e., probably into some other part of the palace, whence they 
 make good their escape, for they play no further part in the masque. 
 The explicit injunction of the Spirit to secure the enchanters wand 
 (1 653) is forgotten in the confusion. The Guardian Genivis now en- 
 ters. In the Cambridge and Bridg< water MSS., where he is called 
 "Daemon," he enters with the Brothers. The change is fitting in 
 view of the chiding he bestows on them for their omission, since he 
 might easily have snatched the wand himself, although there seems 
 to be no reason why he should delay to make his appearance, except 
 that the escape of Comus gives occasion for the introduction of the 
 most exquisite and beautiful episode in the masque. The Spirit be- 
 thinks himself of another way to rescue the Lady, who still sits 
 
144 NOTES 
 
 motionless in her encliauted chair. He will invoke the nymph Sa- 
 brina, whom he describes in a speech of the purest poetry, which is 
 followed by a song of invocation of matchless beauty (11. 85!)-GG). 
 Then follows an "adjuration" in octosyllabic couplets (11. 867-89), 
 which was at first intended to be recited, but seems to have been sung 
 by Lawes and the two Brothers, each taking a part in succession 
 {Bridgewdter MS). The remarks already made about previous lyrical 
 portions of the masque are applicable here, and it will be noted that 
 the main dramatic business being over, and much spectacular effect 
 being demanded, the transition from blank verse to a succession of 
 lyrical passages is natural and proper. The influence of llie Faithful 
 Sheplierdess is abundantly manifest from now on. It is not likely that 
 Milton borrowed from Peele for this scene, but he may possibly have 
 remembered Spenser {F. Q., II., xii. and III., xii.), Tasso {Jer. Del., 
 xvi.), and even Giles Fletcher (GhrisVs Vicioi'y, Part II.). 
 
 816. Withmthis rod reversed. See note to 1. 48. 
 
 817. The idea of reversing his wand and muttering the spells back- 
 ward seems to be borrowed from Ovid's description of the way Circe 
 undid the enchantments she had practised on the companions of 
 Ulysses {Afet., xiv., 300. Of. Fairy Queen, III., xii., 36. In the 
 means of deliverance finally employed some have seen ah assertion of 
 the necessity of obtaining assistance, not from human means, but 
 from Divine Providence. 
 
 833. Melibanis (a name used in classical pastorals) is generally sup- 
 posed to refer to Spenser (not Geoffrey of Monmouth, who was not a 
 shepherd, i.e., poet), whotold the legend of Sabrina(F. Q.,ll., x., 14), 
 and for whose genius Milton had a profound admiration. The story of 
 the nymph is also related by Geoffrey of Monmouth, Sackville, Dray- 
 ton, and Warner {Alhioii's England, iii.), and by Milton himself in his 
 Hintory of Britain. Sabrina is the Severn, in the neighborhood of 
 which the audience were assembled ; the exquisite appropriateness of 
 her introduction is therefore apparent. 
 
 823. Sootlust, truest. 
 
 837. Whilom, of old. See Skeat, s. v., "while." 
 
 831. Compare Shelley's poem, AretJmsa. 
 
 833. His, its. See note to II Pens., 1. 128. 
 
 834. Pearled, adorned with pearls (said to have been fonnd in the 
 Severn), a pretty but conventional epithet, as pearls were frequently 
 used in masques to decorate ladies taking the part of nymphs, and 
 were constantly associated with rivers in poetry. So Leconte de Lisle, 
 describing an Indian river goddess, has "Avecses bracelets de perle 
 et de corail." (Bhagavat.) 
 
 835. Straight may here be used of direction as well as of time. Cf. 
 I. 811. Nereus was a divinity of the sea, a prophet, and the father of 
 
COM us 145 
 
 the Nereids (" The water-nymphs, that in the bottom played "), fifty 
 in number. lie was supposed to reside chiefly in the Aegean Sea, but 
 Milton would have no scruples iu bringing him nearer home. Cf. I. 
 871, and Horace, Odes, I., xv. 
 836. Lank, drooping. 
 
 838. Lacers, baths (vessels to lave in), into which nectar (see note 
 to 1. 479) had been poured, and in which asphodels (daffodils, or, here, 
 rather, the famous plant of classical mythology, which Milton prob- 
 ably used without thinking of its association with the dead) had been 
 strewed. 
 
 839. Porch, i.e., the ears, eyes, etc. Cf. Hamlet, I., v., 63. 
 
 840. Ambrosial, i.e., of heavenly qualities (odor, etc.). Cf. note 
 to 1. 16. " Ambrosial oils " is Homeric {Iliad, xxiii., 186). 
 
 841. Cf. 1. 10, and see note. 
 
 845. Helping, i.e., providing remedies against (1. 847). Urchin, mis- 
 chievous. "Urchin " first meant the hedgehog, an object of popular 
 fear and superstition ; then it meant an imp or wicked spirit, from 
 wliich we get our modern meaning, a small boy. 
 
 846. Various spirits of mischief, such as those described in L Allegro 
 (see notes to 11. 103-105) are probably here referred to. Shreiod, like 
 a shrew, i.e., malicious. See Skeat. 
 
 850. Garland icreatlis, i.e., wreaths of flowers, formed like gar- 
 lands, to be worn on the head The expression is not exactly tauto 
 logical. The verse describes a way of showing gratitude common in 
 pastoral poetry. 
 
 851. Cf. Lycid., 1. 144. 
 
 853. Old swain, i.e., Meliboous ; but the power to unloose spells is 
 ascribed to Sabrinaby Drayton, not by Spenser. (Warton, who quotes 
 Polyolhion, Fifth Song. ) 
 
 863. Train, i.e., that which is trailed. Amher-d vnj^ping means 
 that water is dripping from her yellow and fragrant hair, so that it 
 . seems as if amber were really dropping from it. Yellow or amber 
 locks are appropriate to a rivor-goddess. Cf. "amber stream," 
 Paradise Lost, iii., 359 ; Gray, Progress of Pocvj , "Meander's amber 
 waves." Sabrina's yellow locks would probably be braided with 
 water-lilies when she appeared on the stage. 
 
 865. Silver iMke, i.e., the Severn, perhaps, as Bell notes. Milton 
 may have remembered that tec/s in Virgil is used for " river ; " but so 
 is "lake" used in provincial English for .stream or rivulet, and this 
 seems to have been a M. E. use of the word. 
 
 868. Oc'anus. See note to 1. 96. Of the other deities referred to we 
 
 may note that Homer calls Poseidon (Neptune) " earth-.sbaking." with 
 
 a probable allusion to the might of his waves ; that Tethys was the 
 
 wife of Oceanus ; that the Carpathian wizard was Proteus, who dwelt 
 
 10 
 
146 NOTES 
 
 in the Carpathian Sea (between Rhodes and Crete), and was a sooth- 
 sayer, changing his shape at pleasure (hence " Protean" ), and shep- 
 herd of the sea calves (" hook," see note to 1. 11?) ; that Triton was 
 the " Herald of the Sea," and " scaly" because his lower parts were 
 like a fish (see note to Lycid. , 1. 89) ; that Glaucus was a fisher- 
 man of Boeotia, who was made a sea-god with prophetic powers, 
 which did not save him from getting into amorous complications with 
 Circe and ScyUa (see note to 1, 257) ; that Leucothea (the " white 
 goddess " ) was Ino, daughter of Cadmus, who drove away her step- 
 children Phryxus and Helle, and in order to escape her mad husband, 
 Athamas, leaped into the sea with her son Melicertes, in her arms, the 
 latter becoming the sea-god Palaemon (1. 876) ; that Thetis was the 
 daughter of Nereus, and the mother of Achilles, being thus a promi- 
 nent character in the Iliad, where she is known as the " silver- footed, " 
 an epithet that Milton has paraphrased without foreseeing the change 
 that would come over the meaning of " tinsel ; " finally, that both 
 Parthenope and Ligea were Sirens (see note to 1. 253, and Milton's 
 Ad Leonoram. iii.), the "tomb"' of the former being near Naples 
 (once called Parthenope), and the "comb" of the latter (cf. Virgil, 
 Oearg., iv., 336-7) being given her by the poet, with the probable 
 intention of connecting her with the picturesque race of mermaids. 
 Cf. Wordsworth's 
 
 ' ' Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea ; 
 Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn," 
 
 and Heine's Lorelei : 
 
 " Sie kammt ihr goldenes Haar — 
 
 " Sie kammt es mit goldenem Kamme 
 Und singt ein Lied dabei ; 
 Das hat eine wundersame, 
 Gf'waltige Melodei. ' 
 
 875. Lovely hands. Veritj^ makes a neat reference to Odys., v. , 
 461-2, where this very expression is used of Leucothea. 
 
 882. Sleekinr/, making glossy. Of. Lycid., 1. 99. " Sits " ought 
 strictly to be the participle, and " sleeking " the finite verb. 
 
 885. liosy head. " Head " is probably used here for " face ; " if not, 
 we have to account for "rosy," especially after our explanation of 
 '• amber-dropping." It seems to me mo.st likely that the epithet was 
 delicately cho.sen with reference to the " coral paven "' of the next 
 line. The latter epithet need not be taken literally, nor is " paven " 
 necessarily connected with artificial work. 
 
COMUS 147 
 
 890-921. Rabrina rises, attended by her uymphs, and sings a very 
 pretty song of salutation, to which the Spirit replies in another song 
 of invocation. Then the goddess addresses the Lady in recited octo- 
 syllabics, that describe the measures she is taking to break the spells. 
 When her task is accomplished she hastens to descend. Neither the 
 songs nor the recited couplets can be considered equal in beauty to 
 the lyrical portion of the preceding scene, but they suffer only in 
 comparison with Milton's own work. The student should notice the 
 interlacing of rhymes. 
 
 890. Cf. Paradise Lost, iv., 202. 
 
 891. Grows. See note to Lycid., 1. 7. Danh; damp. 
 
 893. Azurn, azure, blue. " Azurn" and "cedarn" are peculiar to 
 Milton, and are thought to have been formed from the Italian azzii- 
 lino and cedrino, rather than by analogy with such adjectives as " oat- 
 en " {Lycid.,]. 33), "hornen," etc. There is logically no need for 
 the epithet, as the next line gives us " turkis blue " (turquoise), but 
 the poetical effect of the verse is much enhanced by it. 
 
 895. This clause is difficult of explanation. BpII very properly re- 
 marks that Milton did not intend to convey the idea that turquoises 
 and emeralds were to be found in the Severn any more than that 
 myrrh and cinnamon grew on its banks (1. 937). The main point to 
 be noted in the passage is the use of '' strays." The verse originally 
 stood, 
 
 ' • That my rich wheel inlays," 
 
 which was rather unnecessary after " thick set." This line probably 
 limited the precious stones mentioned, but the substituted verse 
 seea\s to be connected with "sheen," giving us the idea that the 
 gleam of the stones (provided "azurn sheen" be not restricted to 
 "turquoise," Milton being fond of such abstract forms of expression) 
 is visible here and there along the channel as though it " strayed 
 about." " Strays," being singular, need not keep us from making it 
 agree with the stones, for it might agree with its nearest subject (see 
 note to Lycid. ^ 1. 7), but unless we conceive the stones as being 
 washed on by the waves it is hard to justify the use of the word. If 
 "azurn" be not stressed, we might understand the poet to mean 
 that the chariot, which is " thick set ' with the stones named, has a 
 " sheen " similar to that which is observed upon the blue-green waters 
 of the channel. Or, finally, he may mean that the chariot, which now 
 '"stays" by the rushy bank, is wont to "stray" up and down the 
 channel. The cancelled verse tells against both these views, but Mil- 
 ton may not have intended his new verse to have exactly the same 
 grammatical relations as the old. Editors do not, as a rule, throw 
 
148 NOTES 
 
 much light on the passage ; but Warton shows that Milton may have 
 had an eye to Drayton's description of Sabrina's "chair," which tells 
 against the idea that the stream is the chariot. 
 
 898. OV?'. Notice how much more appropriate this preposition is, 
 when used of feet that leave no impress, than ' ' on " would have been. 
 Cf., however, TempeM, V., i., 34. The ideals familiar, especially 
 Virgil on Camilla, imitated by Pope, Essay on Criticism. 11. 373-73. 
 
 904. Band is about equivalent to " bonds" of enchantment. 
 
 913. Of jyrecious cure. The phrase belongs to '"drops," and means 
 " of highly to be prized curative power." References to the efficacy of 
 sprinkling are frequent, f.//. , in the English Bible, in Spenser, in Vir- 
 gil {Aen., vi., 230), in Ovid {Met., iv., 479), in Paradise Lost., xi. , 41G. 
 
 919. His, its. See note to II Pens., 1. 128. 
 
 921. I.e., to be in attendance in the bower (see note to UAlleg., 1. 
 87) of Amphitrite, the wife of Xeptune. It is impossible not to believe 
 that IMilton had his mind or his eye on llie Faithful Shepherdess 
 throughout this speech. Perhaps, too, he remembered Browne's 
 3Iasfjne. 
 
 923-957. Sabrina having descended, and the Lady having arisen, the 
 Spirit, in octosyllabic couplets, invokes appropriate blessings upon 
 the goddess, and then adjures the L;uly to fly with him (and her 
 Brothers) from the accursed place, promising to lead her to her fath- 
 er's hall, where there are festivities on foot in honor of the latter's 
 arrival in his province. The first sixteen verses, which were intended 
 to be sung, are admirably poetic in rliythm and diction. The poetry 
 of the close is not striking, but the subject-matter of the recited 
 verses hardly lent itself to better treatment. The clo.sing couplet, 
 however, one line of which is a pentameter, is excellent. 
 
 923. Anchises'' line. Brute, Sabriiia's grandfather, was lineally 
 descended, it was held, from Anchises, the father of Aeneas. 
 
 924. Brimmed (an exquisite epithet), brimming, full to the brim 
 (the past participle often taking the place of the present among the 
 Elizabethans). Cf. M. Arnold's .1 Southern NirjJit, '"Down to the 
 brimmed, moon-charmed main." Some take the word to mean "con- 
 fined by banks " (brim, edge). It would be hard to match this verse 
 and the three that follow, either in Milton's own work or in that of 
 his compeers, for the charm of pure pellucid beauty. The passage is 
 said to describe the Severn accurately, and most probably contains 
 echoes of Fletcher and of Browne {Bnt. Past., I., ii., 272-92). 
 
 929. ScorcJi, an optative. Singed, too (1. 928), is equivalent to 
 " scorched," hardly to "scorching," as has been suggested, for what 
 Milton means is that the air itself has been burned, not that it 
 scorches other objects. The most prosaic of us say that. 
 
 935. Round. This adverb is usually taken with "crowned," and 
 
COM US 149 
 
 "upon " is sometimes regarded as an adverb similarly used, i.e., the 
 head (or source in the mountains) is crowned around, and the banks 
 are crowned i/pon (cf. Greek irepi<TTe(pav6co and tirio-recpaj/Jw). To my 
 own mind this is a rather stiff and mechanical explanation. I should 
 prefer to take " round," along with " tower and terrace," as equiva- 
 lent to "stretching around," "on all sides " (see note to L^Alleg., 1. 70), 
 and to regard " upon " as a preposition (post-positive) with ' ' banks " 
 for its object. " Head " must be the grammatical subject of the sec- 
 ond clause, but its logical subject seems to be " thou," implied in 
 " thy." Note how picturesquely the course of the river is traced by 
 the use of the expressions ''lofty head," recalling its sources in the 
 mountains, and "here and there thy banks upon," giving us the idea 
 of forests and cleared places succeeding each other along the shores. 
 Cf. note to 1. 895. "Head" may, of course, be taken as applying 
 literally to the person of the goddess by those who care to put up 
 with a much-mixed metaphor. 
 
 942. Wa.'ite is practically explained by needlcfia. 
 
 945. Covert, here thicket or wood. The idea of shelter is absent. 
 
 949. Gralultte, welcome. 
 
 950. Wmhcd. See note to 1. 574. Supply " where " after "and." 
 956. It has been assumed that these words were spoken outside 
 
 the palace, and that between 1. 939 (" curs'd place," i.e., palace) and 
 1. 945 ("covert") there is a change of scene by which the palace 
 disappears and the original forest is again in view for a moment. 
 But what is gained by so short a scene, or why this trouble should 
 have been taken at an amateur entertainment, and why Milton should 
 not have indicated it by stage directions has never been explained ; 
 nor is there any reason why the Spirit, since ever\ body knew that the 
 forest stretched around, and that the night was growing old, should 
 not speak vividly, as if the party were already on their way. The use 
 of "thence" (in 1. 94Gi, which evidently refers to the end of the 
 '* covert," strengthens this view Why not *' hence," if they were in 
 the forest ? 
 
 958-1033. The scene now changes to ' ' Ludlow Town and the 
 President's Castle." Country dancers first occupy the stage, making 
 the second anti-masque, after which the Spirit and his company enter. 
 Two songs are then sung by this Guardian Genius, one dismissing the 
 dancers, the other presenting the Lady and her Brothers to their 
 father and mother, who were probably throned in state near the por- 
 tion of the hall set apart for the actors. The dances seem to continue 
 during these songs, but may be executed by a new set of performers ; 
 when both are ended, the Spirit delivers an epilogue of great beauty, 
 closing with perhaps the highest strain of combined lyric and moral 
 fervor to be found in the masque. The whole scene is in octosylla- 
 
150 NOTES 
 
 bicH, with an occasional i)entameter. The charge that Milton has vio- 
 lated the unities of time and place may be dismissed with the remark 
 that if he has, it makes no difference whatsoever and that it is by no 
 means certain that the scene takes place by daylight, as has been as- 
 sumed. L. !)59, "Till next sunshine holiday" [cf. L'Alleg., 1. 98), 
 may refer -not to the time of the injunction, but to the time when the 
 dances and sports began, which would be before the night came on. 
 
 960. Be. See note to 1. 12. Du<k and nod are naturally used of 
 the awkwardness of the rural dancers. Cf. "jigs," 1. 953 and 11. 102- 
 144; also U Alleg., 11. 91-99. Note recessive accent of without. 
 
 962. Uonrt guise, courtly ways (wise) or mien. 
 
 964. Dryades, wood nymphs ; I do not know exactly why Mercury, 
 the herald of the gods, is associated with them, except that he was a 
 " devising" deity and the one best fitted to direct their short, dainty 
 ("mincing") steps. Of. Horace, Odes, I., x. 
 
 965. Lawns. See note to L'^li^e^. , 1. 71. Le«6', meadows. 
 
 967. Ye. See note to 1. 216. 
 
 968. Goodly, handsome, comely. 
 972. Assays, trials. 
 
 976. Lawes by slight changes made the greater portion of the epi- 
 logue available as a prologue, and probably sang it while descending 
 on the stage. The List twelve lines then served as epilogue. Edi- 
 tors seem plainly right when they see in the Spirit in this part of the 
 masque a legitimate descendant of the Ariel of The Tempest {cf V. , 
 i., 88-94) and the Puck of Midsuiinncr NufhVs Dream. 
 
 977. Uappy dimes, probably the Elysian plains. See note to 
 DAUeg., 1. 147. 
 
 978. See note to Lyrid.. 1. 26. 
 
 982. Hesperus. See note to 1. 393. Golden tree is from Ovid {Met. , 
 iv., 636. 
 
 984. Crisped, curled (the foliage of the trees is curled by the 
 winds). " Crisped brooks " occurs in Paradise Lost, iv., 237. 
 
 985. Spruce, dainty. See Skeat. 
 
 986. Graces. See note to L' Alley., 1. 12. Rosy -bosomed Hours. 
 The Hours were the goddesses of the seasons. The epithet is 
 Homeric, and the whole expression has been borrowed by Gray, Ode 
 to Spring : 
 
 " Lo ! where the rosy-bosom'd Hours." 
 
 LI. 984-87 are wanting in the Camlwidge and Bridgcwater MSS. 
 
 990. Cedarn. See note to 1. 893. Verity notes that M. Arnold 
 uses it in IVie New Sirens. 
 
 991 . Nard and cassia's. Both are aromatic plants ; the language is 
 scriptural. 
 
COMUS 151 
 
 992. Iris. See note to 1. 8:?. 
 
 993. Blow, cause to blossom. It is usually intransitive and used of 
 the flowers themselves (rf. Lycid. , 1. 48). 
 
 995. Furfled, having its edges embroidered. " Shew " and " hue " 
 rhyme. Cf. II Pens., 171-2. Cf. 11. 511-12. Here the Cambridge 
 MS. inserts a line : 
 
 '■ Yellow, watchet, green and blue," 
 
 where " watchet " means a pale blue. 
 
 997. 7Vwe, i.e., attuned, able to catch the high notes. Hardly 
 "pure," as Bell thinks. 
 
 999. Adonis, the beloved of Venus (" the As^^yrian Queen," Astarte, 
 Astaroth), who died gored by the tu.sks of a wild boar. A familiar 
 legend, perhaps symbolic of .spring and winter, since the gods at 
 Venus's request allowed him to spend six months of each j'ear on 
 earth. Cf. Bion's Lament for Adonis and Shakspere's exquisite 
 poem ; also Paradise Lost, i., 446. The lines seem, as Warton notes, 
 to refer to the fabulous "Gardens of Adonis." Cf. Fairy Queen, 
 III., vi.. 46, and Paradise Lost, ix., 439^0. 
 
 1000. Wa.dng, growing. 
 
 1003. Spangled sheen, glittering radiance. Cf. Lycid., 1. 170. 
 
 1004. Advanced, raised up (like a banner). 
 
 1005. PsyrJie, the human soul. In the well-known myth she be- 
 trays curiositj'^ to know who her lover is, burns him with the oil of 
 her lamp while she looks at him asleep, is persecuted by Venus, but 
 at last becomes immortal, and is united to Cupid for ever. The 
 myth is of late origin, but is very familiar in poetry. Mr. Will- 
 iam Morris has treated it well in The Earthly Paradise. By 
 " Celestial Cupid " Milton lays stress on the nobler and purer side of 
 love, and, as Masson notes, the whole passage has a mystical and 
 Platonic tinge. 
 
 1008. Make. Th" subject is " free consent." 
 
 1011. Another ideal genealogy. Cf. L' Allegro. 
 
 1012. Xow. Supply "that." Cf. Mid. NigJiVs Dream, IV., i., 102, 
 but more especially the closing verses, recited by the Satyr (proto- 
 type of Milton's Spirit) in Fletcher's Faithful Shepherdess. 
 
 1015. Bowed welkin. Arched sky. See Skeat. 
 
 1021. Sphery cJdme, the music of the spheres, put here for the re- 
 gion where it is made. 
 
 1023. The essential nobility of these lines must again be pointed 
 out. Who was fitter to pen them than Milton himself ? Editors have 
 noted that Ben Jonson's Masque. Plea.sure Reconciled to Virtue (in 
 which Comus is a character), ends with a song in praise of Virtue. 
 
152 NOTES 
 
 The concluding lines may have impressed Milton, but how superbly 
 he has bettered them : 
 
 " There {i.e., in heaven], there is Virtue's seat, 
 Strive to keep her your own : 
 'Tis only she can make you great, 
 
 Though place here make you known." 
 
 In the album of the Neapolitan Cerdogni (then resident in Geneva), 
 Milton, in 1089, wrote the last two lines of Comiis, and added an 
 adaptation of the famous Horatian line as applicable to himself as his 
 own verses : 
 
 " Coelum non animura muto qui trans mare curro." 
 
 LYCIDAS 
 
 1-14. In thosa lines Milton states the occasion of his poem, but 
 does not use language that necessarily indicates the kind of elegy he 
 is about to write. The fact that he intended a pastoral elegy after 
 the general pattern set by the Alexandrian poets does not appear, ex- 
 cept in the name '"Lycidas" itself, before the twenty-third verse. 
 The metre, rhythm, and rhymed structure of the poem are fully ex- 
 emplified in the passage. The iambic pentameter is the prevailing 
 line, but trimeters and tetrameters are irregularly introduced 
 throughout with exquisite effect. The rhythin is varied and Hows 
 now in leaping waves, now in long rolling billows that carry all before 
 them, like the surging periods of Paradise Lost. There is probably 
 no poem in the language the rhythm of which has been more de- 
 servedly praised and studied, or more despaired of by other poets. 
 Milton's mastery of rhythm had been remarkable from the first, but it 
 culminated in lAjcidds, in spite of the fact that he was there sub- 
 jected (almost for the last time) to what he afterwards called " the 
 troublesome and modern bondage of riming." There is nothing in the 
 unrhymed (or rhymed) portions of Coimisth^A, to my ear, at all equals 
 in majesty and splendor of rhythmical movement the passage in Ly- 
 cidas that begins 
 
 " Ay me ! whilst thee the shores and sounding seas " — 
 
 and there is nothing in Paradise Lost that excels it. But it is the 
 rhymed structure of Lycidas that has attracted most attention be- 
 cause it is almost unique. Three of its notable peculiarities may be 
 pointed out. In the 198 verses there are 10 that have no rhyming re- 
 
L7GIDAS 153 
 
 lations with others in their vicinity. There is no fixed order of 
 rhyme, and where, as often happens, two adjacent verses rhyme, they 
 sometimes fail to form a couplet in the strict sense of the word. 
 There is a i)aucity of rhymed endings (onlj' about 60 in the poem) 
 which shows that one sound and its related rhymes do duty for sev- 
 eral verses ; e.g., 11. 2, 5, 6, 9, 13, 14, end respectively with "sere," 
 "year," "dear," "peer," " bier," and "tear." Other peculiarities, 
 such as the use of assonance, might be dwelt upon, but the student 
 may observe these for himself, for the main question that concerns 
 us here is, How did these peculiarities originate? This question 
 was long ago indirectly answered by Dr. Johnson, when, in the course 
 of his famous Life., he casually remarked on the fact that Milton's 
 " mixture of longer and shorter verses, according to the rules of Tus- 
 can poetry," proved his "acquaintance with the Italian writers." 
 Later Dr. Guest tried to show that an irregularly rhymed pastoral by 
 Ludovick Bryskett on the death of Sidney (which made no use of 
 verses without rhyme or of varying length) had been in Milton's 
 mind when he wrote Lycidus; but that our great poet was influenced 
 by the Italian masters, both in his arrangement of rhymes and in 
 .his alternation of shorter and longer verses, will be apparent to any- 
 one who will take the trouble to analyze the choruses of the Aminta 
 or il Pastor Fklo, or to examine a treati.se on Italian metres. Mr. 
 Verity, by the way, notes that Laudor also saw Milton's metrical 
 obligations to Tasso and Guarini, and refers to the English critic's 
 collected works (1876), iv., 409. 
 
 1. Once more. It seems proper to agree with those editors who 
 think that these words refer to the fact that Milton had written no 
 Engli.sh verse for three years, owing to his extended studies to fit 
 him for his high poetic function, rather than with those who hold 
 that the poet means that he is again about to write an elegiac poem 
 like those on the Fair Infant, and the Mai'cManess of Winchester. 
 Laurels. The plants mentioned are associated with classical poetry 
 rather than with elegy in particular or with mourning. The poet 
 is going to make a wreath for himself because he is about to sing a 
 song. 
 
 2. Brown. Cf Horace, Odes, I., xxv., 18, " puUa . . . myrto." 
 Sere., dry, withered, used several times by Shelley in Adonais. Per- 
 haps, as the plants are evergreen, poets have regarded them as sym- 
 bolic of an immortal art. 
 
 3. Cnide, unripe, i. e. , Milton himself was not ready to write poetry 
 in the high sense he always gave to the word. Cf. forced, in the next 
 verse, also Gormis, 1. 480. See the Sonnet written on his twenty-third 
 birthday, and compare this sentence from the letter he wrote in 
 Latin to Diodati, September 23, 1637, not long before he wrote Ly- 
 
154 NOTES 
 
 cidns : "But what am I doing? Tirepo<pvw, I am letting iny wings fjrow 
 and preparing to tly ; but my Pegasus has not yet feathers enough to 
 soar aloft into the fields of air " (Fellowes' translation). 
 
 0. Shatter, scatter. MdloiPinrj year. Supply "does." Critics have 
 observed that '•mellowing" applies rather to fruits than to leaves, 
 and that the plants referred to shed their leaves gradually, not at any 
 particular season ; but Bell sensibly points out that the poet "' is influ- 
 enced by the personal application of the words, and is thinking of 
 the poetical fruit he was himself to produce." Landor (quoted by 
 Browne) asserts that the ivy does shed its leaves iu due season, 
 though not all of them. 
 
 6. Dear. There has been much discussion as to the force of this 
 epithet. I take it to mean that while King's death is a sad occasion, 
 still anything connected with King must be '"dear" to Milton in the 
 sense that it is near to him and of great significauce. (" Dear " origi- 
 nally meant "' precious ;" fur a natural change of meaning among the 
 Elizabethans see Craik's EngUsh of Shiiksj)ere, pp. 205-2U7.) This is 
 a good example of the separation of two epithets by the interposition 
 of their common substantive, the second adjective qualifying the idea 
 formed by the combination of the first adjective and the noun.- 
 See note to L'AUeg., 1. 40. 
 
 7. Compels. The sin^^ular is allowable when the two or more logi- 
 cal subjects are conceived as one idea. Elizabethans also liked to 
 make a verb agree with its nearest subject. The "s" seems to my 
 eir to give the verse a slower movement than could have been 
 obtained with the plural "compel," which was perhaps the effect 
 Milton wanted. It can hardly lie the \orthern plural in -k, frequent 
 in Shakspere. D>ii\ proper. See note to /I Pens.., 1. 155. 
 
 8. Lycidas. The name is frequent in pastoral poetry. Cf. Theoc , 
 Idyl, vii.; Virgil. Ed., ix. Note the effect of the repetition of 
 "dead" and of the name of the shepherd, and compare with some of 
 Poe's similar effects in the Raven, etc. Cf. Begin, 11. 15, 17. Edi- 
 tors compare Spenser's Astroj^hel, 7, 8, and Milton's On the Death of a 
 Fair Infant, quoted in note to 1. 106. Spenser was quite fond of this 
 device. Cf. the second stanza of the Prelude to his Astrophel^where. 
 as often with Poe, the repetitions are marked by slight verbal 
 changes : 
 
 " To you alone I sing this mournfuU verse. 
 
 The mournfuht verse that ever man heard tell : 
 To yon whose softened hearts it may empierse 
 
 With dolour's dart for death of Astrophel. 
 To you I sing and to none other wight. 
 For well I wot my rymes bene rudely dight." 
 
LYCIDA8 155 
 
 9. Peer, equal. 
 
 10. It is usual to compare with this rhetorical question Virgil's 
 "ncget quis carmina Gallo?" {Ed., x., 3). Knetr. See note to 
 Comiis, 1. 87. 
 
 11. Build the lofty rhyme. Editors cite the Latin phrase " condere 
 carmen," but, as Jerram points out, this may simply mean "put to- 
 gether." I am inclined to think Milton had Horace's " Exegi monu- 
 mentum " {Odes, iii., xxx.) before his mind, whence, perhaps, he de- 
 rived the idea contained in his superb epithet "lofty." which refers 
 rather to the glory of poetry than to the character of King's poems. 
 But such suppositions must always be taken for what they ate worth, 
 and that is little. For the s-pelling and derivation of " rhyme" see 
 Skeat. 
 
 13. Welter, roll or toss about. To, i.e., according as the wind 
 blows. Parching, according to Jerram, "describes generally the ef- 
 fect of exposure to weather, and is used of cold as well as heat." The 
 passage from Paradise Lost (ii., 594), cited in support of this state- 
 ment, is not convincing, and the Cent. Diet, recognizes only the 
 usual meaning of the word connected with heat. King was drowued 
 in August; hence, " parching" would be an appropriate epithet. 
 
 14. Meed, recompense, reward of merit. Melodious tear, a poem 
 or melody, accompanied by tears; i.e., an elegy. Cf. "tears of 
 perfect moan" (Epit. on tlie March, of Winchester, I. o5). Elegists 
 often called their poems, "lachrymae; " but the conceit is not a par- 
 ticularly good one. 
 
 15-22. These lines contain an invocation to the Muses, in which 
 the rather strenuous nature of the poet shows itself, as well as his 
 gentler and more human side, when he expresses the hope that he 
 himself may be favored with a similar tribute of love and song. Be- 
 gin. The technical opening of a pastoral elegy. See Theocritus, Idyl, 
 i., 64. 
 
 15. Sacred loell (a Spenserian phrase), either the fountain of Aga- 
 nippe on Mt. Helicon, where the " seat of Jove" would be the altar 
 around which the Muses dance (Hesiod's Theogony. cited by Jerram 
 and Hales. See note to II Pfus., 1. 40) ; or the Pierian fountain at the 
 foot of Mt. Olympus, where the Muses, or "Sisters of the sacred 
 well," were born. Here Mt. Olympus itself would be the " seat of 
 Jove," which is more probable (Bell and Browne). 
 
 18. Cog, hesitating Latin, quiitus), now used only of persons as a 
 rule. See Skeat. 
 
 19. Muse, poet ; hence, the use of " he " in 1. 21. A rather unusual 
 and somewhat misleading application of the word, perhaps founded 
 on the use of the Latin musa for " song " (see note to 1. 66). In Son- 
 net \., 13, " Whether the Muse or Love call thee his mate," it is not 
 
156 NOTES 
 
 necessary to make "Muse" masculine in order to explain " his," 
 which may simply refer to " Love," and give at the same time a better 
 cfesura. Shakspere, Browne, and Dryden have been cited as using 
 " muse" in the sense of '' poet," as well as Spenser (Prothal., 1. 159). 
 20. Destined urn, the urn destined for me, referring to the ancient 
 custom of depositing the ashes of the dead in urns. 
 
 22. Sable sJiroud. There seems to be no reason for taking " shroud " 
 in any save its ordinary sense of a covering for the dead (see note to 
 Comtis,l. 147). Other interpretations are "dark tomb " and " the 
 darkness in which I am shrouded." The lines suggest a comparison 
 with Horace, Odes, I. , xxviii. 
 
 28-36. In this paragraph (for it will be observed that the stages of 
 the analysis correspond with the paragraphs) the pastoral nature of 
 the elegy is definitely indicated, and Milton's own college friendship 
 with King is fittingly described. The edition of 1645 (see the Picker- 
 ing edition, vol. i., 1851, and Jerram) put 11. 23 and 24 as the closing 
 verses of the second paragraph, and began the third with 1. 25. This 
 seems awkward, and it is better to print as in the text, or to make 
 only one paragraph of 11. 15-36, as Bradshaw c" jes, following, it would 
 seem, the arrangement of 1638. 
 
 23. "The hill here is, of course, Cambridge; the joint feeding of 
 the flocks is companionship in study ; the rural ditties on the oaten 
 flute are academic iambics and elegiacs ; and old Damoetas is either 
 Chappell, whom Milton has long forgiven, or some more kindly fellow 
 of Christ's" (Masson, Life (edition of 1881), I., 656). Specimens of 
 King's Latin verses are given by Masson (pp. 648-9). They do 
 not come up to our notion of " lofty rhyme," but Milton intended his 
 epithet rather as a tribute to poety itself than to King's metrical at- 
 tempts. Besides, Milton may have seen English verses of King's dis- 
 playing greater promise. Professor Masson is not justified in arguing 
 from the "obstetric plainness of phrase " in some of King's pieces 
 that he had not the " taste of a true .«on of the Muses." A study of 
 the elegiac verse of the period will convince anyone that many a true 
 poet was capable of making reference to what would now be consid- 
 ered indelicate subjects simply because our forefathers were not in the 
 least squeamish or reticent. 
 
 25. Laicns. See note to L'Alleg., 1. 71. 
 
 26. An exquisite rendering of a familiar metaphor. Cf. note to II 
 Pens., 1. 141. Apposite citations are : Job iii. 9 (marginal reading), 
 " the eyelids of the morning ; " Crashaw, Musics Duel, " the eyelids 
 of the blushing day ; " and Middletou, Gdtne of Chesse (1625), which 
 has the very same phrase. Milton first wrote '"glimmering," which 
 was altered and improved to " opening," in 1645. 
 
 27. Drove maj he transitive (supply "flock"), or intransitive, the 
 
LTGIDAS 157 
 
 latter interpretation being the more poetical. A-field. For the weak- 
 ening of " on " to " a, " see note to Z^4;;<;5r. , 1. 20. Bothtorjeiher. Cf. 
 with 1. 25, and notice the effect of the inverted repetition. 
 
 28, What time, etc., i.e., heard the gray-fly at what time (when) 
 "she winds her sultry horn." This makes sense and is poetical in 
 expression. The transferrence of the object of the principal verb 
 into the relative clause is a Latinism. To take the whole verse as 
 the object of " heard " seems to me to give a very prosaic turn to the 
 passage. The gray-fly appears to be the trumpet-fly, which makes a 
 hum at noonday. Uf. Collins's Ode to Evening, 11. 11-12. As in U Al- 
 legro, the poet is giving a condensed picture of a whole day divided 
 into morning, noon, and eve— the day of a student at the universities 
 then began very early. Milton was evidently fond of the early morn- 
 ing. 
 
 21). BatieniiKj, fattening (transitive here, though more frequently 
 intransitive). Dews. Jerram very appositely cites Virgil, Ed., viii., 
 15 : 
 
 " Cum ros in tenera pecori gratissimus herba," 
 
 and Oeorcj., iii., 324-26, where, practically, the same verse is re- 
 peated. This is one of the few cases in which we may feel almost cer- 
 tain that Milton had his eye or mind directly on another poet. 
 
 30. Star, etc. Hesperus. See note to Comus, 1. 93. The word 
 " rose "has been objected to on astronomical grounds, since the even- 
 ing star appears, but. does not rise, and editors have explained the 
 verse as referring to any star ; but it seems plain from Milton's MS. 
 and the text of 1638, that the evening star was meant, and most 
 readers will fail to perceive any astronomical anomaly. Spenser 
 {F. Q., III., iv. , 51) elevated Hesperus in the same way, and Jerram 
 shows that both poets had classical authority for their procedure. 
 
 31. TFes<t'?•^■«^, moving westward. It originally stood "burnisht," 
 the change being an improvement, and perhaps due to Chaucer or 
 Spenser. 
 
 32. Ditties. See note to 1. 23, and note to Gomus. 1. 86. 
 
 33. Tempered, attuned, modulated. Jerram quotes Gray, Prog- 
 ress of Poesy : 
 
 "Thee the voice, the dance, obey. 
 Tempered to thy warbled lay,'' 
 
 where " warbled " will be noted as another word of which Milton was 
 fond. Oaten flute. See note to Comus, 1. 345. 
 
 34. Satyrs, Fauns, familiar representatives of light-hearted pleasures 
 in classical mythology, here standing for the students of Cambridge, 
 
15S NOTES 
 
 not necessarily for the least studious ones, as has been thought. The 
 lusty and sportive Satyrs of the Greeks were confounded by the Ro- 
 mans with their Fauns, who were also half-men. half-goats ("cloven- 
 heel "). Milton was justified in introducing them into a pastoral. 
 As we have seen, a satyr plays an important part in Fletcher" b great pas 
 toral drama, as one had previously done in the Aminta, where there is 
 an exquisitely poetical description of his uncouth appearance (I., ii. ). 
 The student will recall also one of Hawthorne's greatest novels. 
 
 ;}6. Dnmmtas, a pastoral name occurring in Theocritus (/rfy?, vi.), 
 Virgil (AVI iii. ), and Sidney's Aratdia. See note to 1. 28. In the Arca- 
 dia he does not bear an enviable character, and so Jerram thinks we 
 may have liere a slight bit of the old resentment against Chappell (the 
 tutor who is said to have whipped Milton). But Milton was too great 
 an artist to have introduced intentionally so discordant a note. Mr. 
 Verity thinks that when the pastoral imagery is analyzed, it becomes 
 ridiculous, but who analyzes when reading simply for pleaBure? 
 
 37-49. In this paragraph the poet expresses his pergonal sense of loss, 
 and, in imitation of the Alexandrians, describes the grief of inanimate 
 nature at the death of one who was a universal favorite. 
 
 ;57. Notice the repetition of " now thou art gone," and of " thee," 
 in 1. o'J. Observe also the force of •heavy,'" and the absolute sin- 
 cerity of the verses, as well as their flawless perfection. 
 
 38. Must simply expresses certainty. 
 
 40. Gaddiiif/, straggling. Of. the expression, "to gad about.' 
 Wdd tliyme has been objected to as not growing in forests, a petty 
 point, and, after all. witii different punctuation, the caves only need be 
 " overgrown," and they need not be in the " woods." 
 
 42. Copses, woods of small growth ; i.e., containing much under- 
 growth. See Skeat. The whole passage is redolent of Moschus and 
 Bion. Notice the exquisite choice oi fanning (1. 44) to express the 
 joy of the leaves. 
 
 45. Canker, i.e., the canker-worm that produces a tumor (cawctf?-; in 
 the rose. Cf. Shakspere, Son, xxxv. : 
 
 " And lothsome canker lives in sweetest bud." 
 
 46. Taint-worm. "Whether any particular worm is meant is doubt- 
 ful. The "taint," a small red s])ider, mentioned by Sir Thomas 
 Browne, and quoted by editors, can hardly be referred to. unless the 
 meaning of " worm " is much stretched. The sense of the passage is 
 obvious, however. Weanlinf/, young, just weaned. Herds seems to 
 indicate cattle rather than sheep. 
 
 47. M'ardrohe. This use of the container for the thing contained is 
 the familiar rhetorical figure metonymy ; we not infrequently use 
 
LYCIDAS 159 
 
 " wardrobe " (French, garde-rohe) for •' clothes ; " here it stands for the 
 colors in which the flowers are clad. Milton wrote '" buttons " first. 
 Cf. Hamlet, I., iii., 40. 
 
 48. White-thoiii blows, \iSiVit\ioxn\Aos&ovs\s. For " blows " see note 
 to C»mns, 1. 993. 
 
 49. Such stands for " so killing was." There may be a slight but 
 allowable exaggeration in the use of so strong an epithet in describing 
 the effect of the news of Lycidas's death upon his companions. 
 
 50-63. These lines, which declare the impotence even of the guar- 
 dian Nymphs to save their "loved Lj'cidas," are imitated from the 
 first 7'/yi of Theocritus (1. 64 neq.) and the tenth Echgue of Virgil (11.9- 
 12). The Theocritean Thyrsis begins his lament for Daphnis in these 
 words: *^ Berjin, ye Muses, dear; begin the pastoral song! Thyrsis 
 of Etna am I, and this is the voice of Thyrsis. Where, ah ! where 
 were ye when Daphnis was languishing ; ye Nymphs, where were ye ? 
 By Peneus's beautiful dells, or by dells of Pindus ? for surely ye 
 dwelt not by the great stream of the river Anapus, nor on the watch- 
 tower of Etua, nor by the sacred water of Acis " (Translation of A. 
 Lang). The parallel passage in Virgil runs as follows : " What groves 
 or what glades held you, O maiden Naiades, when Gallus perished 
 from an unworthy love. For neither did the ridges of Parnassus, nor 
 any of Piodus, cause you delay, nor the Aonian Aganippe." Here 
 Virgil, while cleaving, as Theocritus did not do, to classical localities, 
 seems to blend the conceptions of Nymph and Muse, just as Milton is 
 sometirae.s held to do; but the lattefs indebtedness to Theocritus is 
 plainly much greater. With his usual boldness he makes no mention 
 of Grecian haunts, but transfers his divinities outright to those parts 
 of Britain where the old Druidic religion seemed most at home, and 
 near which King had met his fate. See note to Comtis, 1. 58. The 
 use of •' herself " (11. 58, 59) induces me to think that Milton intended 
 to follow Theocritus in keeping Nymphs and Muses distinct ; but see 
 note to 1. 52. 
 
 50. Note the supreme felicity of the epithet " remorseless, " the pa- 
 thetic fallacy to the contrary notwith.standing. 
 
 52. Steep, probably the mountain KerigiDruidion in Denbighshire, 
 the reputed sepulchre of the Druids, The Druids, it will be remem- 
 bered, were the minstrels as well as the priests and teachers of the 
 Celts ; hence Milton would have no hesitation in connecting them 
 with the service of the Muses, if he meant his "Nymphs" to repre- 
 sent the latter. Or he may make the Druids bards of the Nymphs, 
 because of the naturalistic features of the old Celtic religion. It 
 should be remarked that originally " your " was represented by " the," 
 so that we are bound to believe that Milton intended that his Druids 
 and Nymphs should sustain some relationship to one another. 
 
160 NOTES 
 
 54. Mona Mgh. The island of Anglesey, just ofif the Welsh coast, was 
 known to the Romans as Mona. It was a famous haunt of Druids, for 
 its "high" interior, thickly wooded with huge oaks ("shaggy"), ren- 
 dered it a proper place for their sombre rites. Jerram uotes that bj' 
 Drayton's time the oaks had been felled, which indicates that Milton 
 was drawing on literary sources of information, although Masson 
 thinks he may have visited Diodati's residence on the Dee. " High " 
 may, by the way, be a mere reminiscence of the Latin alta, fre- 
 quently applied to islands. Leconte de Lisle in Ae Massacre de Mona 
 has anoteworthj; description of tlie island, and of its fanatical votaries. 
 
 55. Deva, '' the river Dee, on which stands Chester, the port from 
 which King sailed " (Bell). The river was supposed to be a haunt 
 of magicians (" wizard"), and was so described by Spenser and Dray- 
 ton. Being the ancient boundary between England and Wales, it was 
 supposed to bode evil to that country toward which ic changed its 
 course. Cf. Milton's Vacatioii Eoaercise, 1. 98, "ancient hallowed 
 Dee," and Eleg. Lib., i., 3. 
 
 56. Ay me. See note to Comus, 1. 511. Cf. 1. 154. Fondly. See 
 note to // Pens., 1. 6. 
 
 57. This line, with its break or anacoluthon, has given some trouble. 
 It seems easiest to take " had ye been there " as a half-musing repeti- 
 tion of the dream the poet had been indulging before he broke in with 
 " Ay me, I fondly dream ! " Then he catches himself up with the ex- 
 clamatory question, "for what could that have done?" To supply 
 " when I say," or " of," or " but why should I suppose it, for what," 
 as editors have suggesteil, seems to complicate matters unneces- 
 sarily." 
 
 58. Muse, etc.. Calliope, the muse of epic poetry, mother of Orpheus. 
 The latter, crazed by the loss of Eurydice, offended the Thracian 
 women who would have consoled him, and in one of their Bacchanalian 
 " routs " met with the fate described in the poem. See note to L^Al- 
 leg.y 1. 145. Note the repetition of " the Muse herself." 
 
 61. Rout. See note to Coimis, first Stage Dirrctions. 
 
 63. Notice the parallelism in " down the stream" and "down the 
 swift Hebrus." In no other poem does Milton make such great and 
 splendid use of every resource known to the art of the poet. Much 
 learning has been expended on the discussion of Milton's right or wrong 
 use of "swift" in connection with the Hebrus, the Thracian river 
 which was supposed to roll its waves over golden sands until it 
 reached the Aegean Sea. It seems agreed that Milton followed Virgil's 
 " volucrem Hebrum " {Aen., i., 317), which was supposed to be a cor- 
 rupt reading on the authority of Servius, who remarked that the river 
 was " quietissimus." Editors are not wanting, however, to defend 
 the passage, and the Jesuit Catrou has been cited as affirming that the 
 
LTCIDAS 161 
 
 Hebrus is "' un Heave d une grande rapidite." Ii has even been held 
 that "swift" is simply a stock epithet applied to rivers, like so mauy 
 of the Homeric epithets. It would be a pity to believe this, as much 
 of the beauty of the line depends upon the force of " swift ; " but the 
 student may decide the whole matter when he visits Thrace, provided 
 there have been no great geological changes in the region. Lesbian 
 shore. Jerram notes the common tradition that the bead of Or- 
 pheus was carried to Lesbos and there buried, for which act of 
 piety the Lesbians were made pre-eminent in song. As with Homer, 
 however, various places laid claim to the honcr of holding his re- 
 mains, the people of Mount Libcthrus, in Thrace, observing that the 
 nightingales that built near his tomb were endowed with more melodi- 
 ous voices than any other of their kind. 
 
 It will be well to note, before leaving this paragraph, that Milton's 
 manuscripts show many emendations, and prove that here, as else- 
 where, he was the pain.staking artist, never satisfied with anything 
 short of perfection Compare "gory scalp" and "divine head" 
 with the final form. " gory visage," in 1. (i2. 
 
 64-84. In this paragrapli Milton lays aside the pastoral pipe and 
 relieves his feelings by what he calls a f^train " of a higl.er mood," 
 although it may be obs^erved that his language is still somewhat 
 pastoral. The question how far he was justified in this and another 
 break in the elegiac structure and tone of his poem cannot be dis- 
 cussed here for want of space. There can be no question as to the 
 noble beauty and truth of the passage viewed as a separate whole. 
 It is as familiar as anything in English poetry, and has great auto- 
 biographical value apart from its importance as an authoritative de- 
 liverance upon the nature of true fame. 
 
 64. What boots it. What does it profit? Cf. '"bootless." "to 
 boot." and see Skeat. Unctssnnt, incessant, both forms being used 
 indiscriminately. Why do we now use " i/j cessant ? " 
 
 65. Homely. Cf. Comufi, 1. 748. " Tend " and " shepherd's trade" 
 serve as transition words to the higher strain ; the poet is not yet 
 quit of his rule as elegist. Cf., too. the use of the names "Ama- 
 ryllis" and " Nerera." The adjectives in the line limit " shepherd's 
 trade," i.e., the making of poetry. As Bell notes, the " shepherd's 
 trade " of 11. 113-120 is pastoral work in the Church. 
 
 66. Meditate the thanklesft Muxe. Cf. Comu.'<,l.54:7. A literal trans- 
 lation of a Virgilian phrase ( Ed. , i. , 2) : 
 
 " Silvestrem tenui musam meditaris avena." 
 
 where " musam " plainly means " song." Whether Milton meant to 
 employ "Muse" in this sense is doubtful. If he did. "thankless" 
 is equivalent to " that gets no thanks from others." If "Muse" is 
 11 
 
162 NOTES 
 
 personified, " thankless " is about equivalent to " ungrateful," which 
 Milton, knowing the true and high delights of poetic effort, could 
 hardly have intended. Of. Cowper's well-known lines with regard to 
 the " pleasure in poetic pains which only poets know." The first in- 
 terpretation sorts better with the use of "meditate," i.e., "apply 
 one's self to," and with 1. 65. 
 
 67. Were it, etc. Would it not be better to do as others are ac- 
 customed to do ("use"), etc.? These lines are usually understood 
 to convey a contemptuous allusion to the then fashionable erotic 
 poetry of men like Carew and Habiugton — the greater Elizabethans 
 having all passed away by 1637, the year of Jonson's death. It is 
 even contended (by Warton) that the Amaryllis and Neaera of the 
 next lines are not merely the shepherdesses familiar to pastoral 
 poetry (see Virgil's Eds. i. and iii ), but are taken from two Latin 
 poems of George Buchanan, for whose work Milton had a partiality. 
 Certain quoted lines, especially with reference to the " tangles of 
 Nesera's hair," help this suppo.sition out, but there are also facts 
 that militate agaiust it, e.g. , that Buchanan's Amaryllis was the city 
 of Paris ! Yet is it absolutely necessary to assume that MUtou is 
 aiming his shafts at brother poets of a lower order ? He has inti- 
 mated in 1. 6.") that the "shepherd's trade" with no qualification 
 as to kind or character, for " with unce.ssant care " refers to his own 
 labors, now meets with no reward of popular favor, so that it is no 
 wonder that King was not saved by Nymphs and Muses. If poetry 
 in general is at a low ebb, if Church and State are in a chaotic con- 
 dition, would it not be better to give up all commerce with the Muse, 
 all dreams of true fame, and become a sensualist in very fact, like 
 the loose Cavaliers, who seem on every hand, in all literalness, " To 
 sport with Amaryllis in the shade. Or with the tangles of Neaera's 
 hair ? " Such a question, put by the pure, chaste Milton to himself, 
 and answered by himself in the superb vindication of Fame is, it 
 seems to me, more effective than the question whether he shall write 
 amatory poetry. And. unless 11. 67-69 bear this meaning, it would 
 be hard to prove that he is aiming his satire at the amatory poets 
 rather than at the sensual Cavaliers in general. Besides, were the 
 amatory poets sufficiently in evidence at this precise juncture to draw 
 Milton's scorn, and would he have deigned to expend it on them if 
 they had been ? That amatory poets did sing of their Amaryllis or 
 Nesera is of course true, and the lines may certainly bear the usual 
 interpretation ; but Milton would naturally have used these fictitious 
 names in order to keep up the tone of his poem, even if he had in- 
 tended the more serious meaning I have suggested. Milton's Pali- 
 node to his Latin Elegies has been held to be a renouncement of " a 
 softer," and, it would seem, very shadowy passion. 
 
LTCIDAS 163 
 
 69. TangleK. The most felicitous quotation that editors have brought 
 to bear on this line is from Lovelace's I'd Althea, 
 
 " When I lie tangled in her hair." 
 
 In this verse "Or" originally Btood ''hid," from which circumstance 
 both Warton and Jerram have argued that the probability of an in- 
 tended reference to Buchanan is strengthened. I should say not. 
 There was confusion introduced by the first reading, but the sensual 
 abandonment of the lines was intensified. Warton's quotations from 
 Buchanan, however, afford no hint of the idea implied in " hid," nor 
 does "sporting" with the "tangles" hint at the chains or " vincula'" 
 of the Scotch poet. « 
 
 70. Clear, is probably used for •' noble, pure (cterws)." Jerram sug- 
 gests " lofty " or " erected." Cf. Pimidise Regained, iii., 24 seq. The 
 idea that Fame spurs noble souls on is of course a common one, and 
 capable of considerable illustration. The following verse, which is 
 rather in apposition with '"love of Fame" than with "Fame" it- 
 self, contains an idea found in Tacitus (Hist., iv., 6). 
 
 73. Guerdon, reward ; in proae it should come inside the depen- 
 dent clause. 
 
 74. Supply " when we" before "think." 
 
 75. Fury fsee note to Comus, 1. 641) is here put for Atropos, one of 
 the three Parcce or Fates, who presided over birth, life, and death. 
 Clotho held the distaff, Lachesis spun the threads of life, and Atropos 
 clipped them with " the abhorred shears." The phrase blind Fury la 
 used intentionally, and with great effect, to voice the poet's impotent 
 despair at the eternal contradiction expressed in the proverb Ars 
 longn, rita brevis, as well as his grief at the untimely and apparently 
 inexplicable cutting off of Lycidas in his youth (" thin-spun"). It 
 is possible that those editors are right who hold that Milton was 
 thinking of Destiny and her shears (Shakspere, K. J., IV., ii., 91), 
 rather than of Atrop )s, but the view taken here appears to be at once 
 more natural and poetical. " Blind Fury" is a Spenserian expression 
 {Ruins of Rome, xxiv.). 
 
 76. Note the zeugma, "life " and ' ' praise " being joined to "slits," 
 which is properly applicable to " life " only, but suggests a verb like 
 "intercept" applicable to " praise." 
 
 77. Touched my trembling ears. Bell quotes with approbation Mas- 
 son's " acute " note to the effect that we have here " a fine poetical 
 appropriation of the popular supenstition that the tingling of a per- 
 son's ears is a sign that people are talking of him." In other words, 
 Milton sees that what he has been saying about poetic fame is appli- 
 
164 NOTES 
 
 cable to himself and may set people talking. Jerram quotes Coning- 
 tons remark on Virgil, Ed. vi., 3 : 
 
 '• Cum canerem reges et proelia, Cynthius aurem 
 Vellit, et admonuit," 
 
 to the efiFect that touching the ear was a symbolical act, the ear being 
 the seat of memory. Taking this view, "trembling " is more simply 
 explained as indicating the poets reverence and awe at finding him- 
 self in the presence of the God of Song. Milton could hardly have 
 had the buzz of popular talk present to his mind at such a moment, 
 and Professor Masson's interpretation appears to me to be too " acute." 
 79 Glistering. See note to Comns, first Stage Directions. Foil, a 
 leaf (Latin, /(y/i«;/;) or thin sheet of metal placed under a jewel to 
 increase its lustre. The word is often applied by poets in senses 
 both concrete and the reverse. Here the question has arisen whether 
 "set off to the world" (1. 80) limits " Fame " or " foil," i.e., are we 
 to understand that Fame does not need to be set off to the world 
 in a glittering foil (Fame being first a "plant" and then a gem) ; or 
 are we to take it that Fame is not a plant to grow " on mortal soil," 
 or to be based on the glittering show of men's actions, which to the 
 world seems to constitute true glory (" foil set off to the world"), or 
 to be based on ("lies in") wide reputation (•• broad rumor "). The 
 latter interpretation, which is Jerram' s, seems preferable, on the 
 whole, for the metaphor becomes less mixed, and we do not have to 
 supply " is" before "set off," nor to account for the use of the definite 
 article before "foil." The metaphor is somewhat broken by the use 
 of "lies," which has two dependent phrases, according to the inter- 
 pretation accepted above, but is probably taken up again in "lives 
 and spreads." 
 
 81. By, like many Elizabethan uses of prepositions, is not easily 
 susceptible of explanation. Some make it equivalent to "near," " in 
 presence of ; " others to " by means of." The latter interpretation 
 seems to accord better with the verses that follow. Pure eyes. Of. 
 llahakkxik '\. 13: "Thou art of purer eyes than to behold evil, and 
 canst not look on iniquity." 
 
 82. Witness. Bell paraphrases ' ' searching and infallible discrimi- 
 nation," which leaves it slightly doubtful whether " witness " expands 
 the idea contained in "pure eyes" or that in " all judging." If it 
 means " witnessing," it goes along with "eyes;" if it is equivalent 
 to "judgment," "decision" (an anomalous use), it goes with "all- 
 judging." 
 
 83. Lastly, finally, decisively. 
 
 84. Meed. See note to 1. 14. 
 
LTCIDA8 165 
 
 85-102. Dropping his higher "' strain," Milton pays tribute to two 
 streams noted through their connection with pastoral song ; then he 
 represents his pipe as " listening " to Triton's inquiries with regard 
 to the causes of King's death, addressed in Neptune's behalf to the 
 subordinate divinities of the sea. 
 
 So. Arethuse. The fountain of Arethusa lay in the island of Ortygia, 
 near Syracuse. The classical myth, which was made the subject of a 
 beautiful poem by Shelley, ran that Arethusa was a nymph of Elis, 
 who attracted the love of the river-god Alpheus by bathing in his 
 stream. She fled him over hill and dale, and was changed by her 
 mistress, Diana, into a fountain ; which did not mend matters, for the 
 amorous god mingled his waters with hers. Then Diana opened a 
 passage under the sea and the fountain of Arethusa rose in Ortygia ; 
 the Alpheus followed, and the sLory went that whatever was thrown 
 into the river in Elis would rise in the Sicilian fountain. Theocritus 
 mentions Arethusa (i. , 117) and Moschus affirms that Bion drank of 
 her waters (1. 78) ; hence Milton's apostrophe is appropriate in a 
 pastoral elegy. Cf. Arrwles, 11. 29-31. 
 
 86. Mincius, a river which falls into the Po near Mantua, where 
 Virgil was bom. The aiipropriateness of its insertion in the apos- 
 trophe, and of the epithets applied to it, will, of course, be apparent, 
 especially when Virgil's reference to it in the Geovgics [\u., 14-15) is 
 recalled : 
 
 '' Propter aquam, tardis ingens ubi flexibus errat 
 Mincius, et tenera prsetexit arundine ripas." 
 
 The reeds are called toeul, not merely because pipes were made 
 from them, but also because on them Virgil may be imagined to have 
 accompanied his pastoral songs. Perhaps the epithet may refer to 
 the sound of the wind blowing through them. 
 
 87. Mood. Jerram properly notes that this is not our word denot- 
 ing a state of mind (O. E. , mod), but a variant of "mode" (Latin, 
 7nodus), meaning "* manner," here a particular style of music, as in 
 Paradise Lost, i., 549-51 : 
 
 " Anon they move 
 In perfect phalanx to the Dorian mood 
 Of flutes and soft recorders." 
 
 Cf. the grammatical use of the word, and see note to D Aller/., 1. 136. 
 
 88. Oat. Cf. 1. 33, and see note to Comus, 1. 345. 
 
 89. Listeiis. Strictly speaking, it is of course the poet himself that 
 listens. Ilerald, etc., TtHoix. See note to 6Wi««, 1. 868. He was wont 
 to blow on the concha or spiral shell (Wordsworth's " wreathed horn") 
 in order to still the waves. lie is here introduced either to hold a 
 
166 N0TE8 
 
 kind of court of inquiry for Neptune (" Neptune's plea" may be com- 
 pared, as by Keightley, with the "Court of Common Pleas "'), with 
 regard to the matter of Lycidas's drowning ; or to present Neptune's 
 " plea," or excuse, and to make it effective by endeavors to lay the 
 blame on inferior divinities. Browne and Masson seem to follow 
 Keightley. Warton, Bell, and Jerram take the second view presented 
 above. The interests of poetry are best subserved by the first view, 
 those of philology by the second, for ''plea" generally signifies a 
 statement made by a defendant in a cause. 
 
 91. Fdon. The use of this epithet favors the view that Triton was 
 holding a court. 
 
 92. The verse is in oratio rect<i. 
 
 93. Gust, etc., every sudden tempestuous (" of rugged wings") 
 blast. Of. the well-known phrase. '" on the wings of the wind." 
 
 94. Beaked. Note the force of the epithet, and compare with 
 Bell's prose rendering, '' each pointed cape.'" which is intolerably flat. 
 'Each jutdng headland " is a nearer paraphrase, but nothing but 
 " beaked " will satisfy us. 
 
 96. Hippotades. the Greek patronymic of Aeolns, god of the winds, 
 who is better known by his Latin name, made familiar through the 
 famous passage in the first book of the Aeneid. The story of his giv- 
 ing Ulysses all adverse winds tied up in a bag is found in the tenth 
 Odyssey. Sage appears to have only its general meaning— wise, ex- 
 perienced. 
 
 97. His may refer to Hippotades as keeper of the " dungeon " (cf. 
 Virgil, vasto-antro), or to " blast,' which may be personified ; or may 
 simply be equivalent to " its," in which case it also refers to " blast." 
 See note to 11 Pens., 1. 128). 
 
 98. Level brine. Cf. with the " flat sea " of Comus, 1. 375. 
 
 99. Panope, one of the daughters of Nereus. See note to Comus, 
 1. 835. Her name, indicating " a wide view," is, as Jerram and Pal- 
 grave remark, significant here, for it shows her to be a good wit- 
 ness. With sleek, cf. " sleeking," Convis, 1. 882, and see note. 
 
 100. It was, etc. Is this part of the answer of ' sage Hippotades " 
 depending on " brings ? " or are we to supply " he said " and imag- 
 ine the poet as reporting the answer to Lycidas? or is it the poet's 
 own explanation ? It will be noted that in 1. 95 Lycidas is re- 
 ferred to by "his;" in 1. 102 by "thine." If it is thought that 
 Hippotades supplies the answer, it is best to mark the evident inten- 
 tion of the poet to convey that answer to Lycidas by supplying an- 
 other verb than " brings, ' in order not to confuse the two portions of 
 the reply. If the poet interrupts with his own explanation, his sin- 
 cerity will be all the more apparent on account of his abruptness. 
 Fatal may mean "fated," " doomed j " but its use with " perfid- 
 
LTGIDAS 167 
 
 ious," that is, " treacherous to tlue," probably indicates that it sim- 
 ply means " fatal, or fraught with doom to thee." It shonld be re- 
 membered that King's ship did not go down in a storm, but because 
 it was in bad condition (<?/. 11. 98-99). This at any rate was Milton's 
 idea of the matter ; but Mr. Verity quotes from a poem by Henry 
 King, Edward's brother, in the Lycidas volume, which declares that 
 the vessel was lost in a storm. He should have known the facts, but 
 perhaps he thought that poetical propriety required a storm. The 
 discrepancy is curious but unimportant. 
 
 101. Built in tlw eclipse, a plain reference to the well-known super- 
 stition that nothing done during an eclipse, whether of sun or moon, 
 could prosper. Cf. the noble passage in Paradise Lost (i. , 594-99). 
 Rigrjtd, etc. The first half of this verse is imaginative, the second 
 highly so. It is impossible to realize visually a ship ' ' rigged out 
 with curses," if " with" mean " by means of," unless one is endowed 
 with the genius of a Blake. The indefiuiteness attaching to this in- 
 terpretation is better, however, than the concreteness of the expla- 
 nation that '■ with" signifies " in the midst of," and that evil spirits 
 cursed the ship while it was being fitted out. 
 
 103. Sacred. Note the sincerity and beauty of the epithet if it be 
 not taken in the sense of " doomed " or *' devoted to death," which 
 is possible. 
 
 103-107. Milton's " oat " next " proceeds " to listen to the genius 
 of the River Cam (" Camus "), who appropriately represents Cam- 
 bridge among the mourners. Although the poet, like Dryden, had no 
 great fondness for the university of which he is the greatest orna- 
 ment, he could not well show his true feelings here. The phrase 
 "reverend Sire," which may refer to the antiquity of the place or be 
 merely a proper form of words to use of a river-god, is not, however, 
 surcharged with affection ; and but for the descriptive beauty of 
 some of its lines the whole passage might readily be pointed out as 
 that portion of Lycid^rs that we could most easily spare. It may be 
 merely a fancy, but it seems to me that the comparative feebleness of 
 verse 107 is clear proof that Milton's heart was not in his work when 
 he wrote these lines. Jerram compares Sponsor's Pastorall Aeglogue, 
 in which rivers appear as mourners, and Verity, Phineas Fletcher's 
 SiceUde-s, in which Camus speaks the prologue. 
 
 103. Went footing slow. Hales and Bell properly note that " went " 
 is not here the past tense of "go," for Comus was coming on, but is 
 equivalent to "wended his way." We should say in prose, "footing 
 it slowly." Cf. the "trip it" of L'Alleg., 1. 33. 
 
 104. Mantle hairy is said to refer to a hairy river-weed that floats in 
 the Cam. Bonnet sedge means that the god's " cap" is formed of the 
 coarse grass growing along the sides of the river. 
 
168 NOTES 
 
 105. Inwrought with figures dim, a decided improvement over the 
 original "scrawled o'er." The reference seems to be to certain 
 markings said to be seen on sedge leaves when they are dried. These 
 markings, according to one commentator, appear on the edges of the 
 leaves, but Milton seems to distinguish between the "figures dim" 
 worked into the sedge and the hyacinth-like inscriptions on the edges. 
 Perhaps one portion of the description is due to observation, the other 
 to the poets imagination entirely. Some editors believe that Milton 
 was referring to the " dim" traditions and antiquities of Cambridge. 
 
 106. Sanguine flower, the bloody flower, i.e., the hyacinth, said to 
 have sprung from the blood of the Spartan youth Hyacinthus, who, 
 being loved by Apollo and Zephyrus (cf. L'AUeg. , 1. 19), and preferring 
 the former, was killed by a quoit thrown by the god and turned aside 
 from its proper mark by the jealous wind. Cf. Milton's lines in his 
 poem On the Death of a Fair Infant : 
 
 " For so Apollo, with unweeting hand, 
 Whilom did slay his dearly-loved mate. 
 Young Hyacinth, born on Eu rotas' strand, 
 Young Hyacinth, the pride of Spartan land." 
 
 The hyacinth was marked on its petals in such a way as to suggest 
 to some the words al, al (alas ! alas !), or 'T, the initial letter of the 
 youth's name. Note the change of meaning in " sanguine." 
 
 107. Reft, participle of " reave," to take away by violence. We 
 now use "be-reave," in a milder sense. Pledge, here child, offspring, 
 because these were often used as pledges or hostages. For quoth he, 
 said he (sometimes, says he), see Skeat. 
 
 108-131. In this passage, the most highly wrought and sustained 
 of the poem, with a single exception, St. Peter is introduced as 
 mourning over the loss of so promising a youth as Lj'cidas to the 
 ministry of the Church. We have here another strain "of a higher 
 mood," but it will be noted that Milton is very careful to \xse language 
 that will be suited both to the subject of the passage and to his pas- 
 toral elegy. This he is enabled to do because the work of the Church 
 can be well described in jiastoral terms. As to how far Milton was 
 justified in his bold introduction of St. Peter and his departure from 
 the elegiac canon of pensive melancholy, it would be idle to argue in 
 the short space of a note. That the verses are unrivalled for intensity 
 of scorn and denunciation will be apparent even to the most casual 
 reader ; to the careful student they will appear more dramatic and 
 more terrible at every reading. 
 
 108. A7id last did go. Note the effect of poetical expansion in en- 
 abling the mind to rest upon an idea and fully take it in— an effect 
 
LYCIDA8 169 
 
 frequently aimed at and obtained in popular poetry. There is no act- 
 ual necessity for telling us that St. Peter was the last to go, for he 
 is represented as the last figure in a moving procession. 
 
 109. Pilot. Probably - steersman," as St. Peter had been a fisher- 
 man on the Sea of Galilee, and inay have steered his own ship (Jer- 
 ram). The choice of St. Peter to represent the Church was a fitting 
 one, in view of Christian tradition, and of certain well-known script- 
 ural texts. Tennyson, of course, refers to Christ when he says, in 
 Crossing the Bar : 
 
 " I hope to see my Pilot face to face 
 When I have crossed the bar." 
 
 110. Keys, i.e., of heaven, to close and to open, as described in the 
 poem. The number of keys assigned the Saint is not scriptural (c/. 
 Matt. xvi. 19) but traditional. The metals designated seem to be 
 due to Milton himself. (If. Comus, 1. 13; Dante, Purg., ix., 118. 
 Twain was originally the masculine of two, but poets seem to use the 
 forms indifferently. See Skeat. Massij. See note to ii P<?«,9., 1. 158. 
 
 111. Amain, with power or force. A is the weakened "on" (see 
 note to DAlleg., 1. 20). Main, force, strength. For its distinction 
 from the adjective " main," see Skeat, 
 
 112. Mitred, i.e., crowned with the mitre, a sign of the Saint's 
 episcopal authority as a bishop of the Church. Jerram seems right in 
 contending that no special theological arguments can be based on 
 this word or this passage. Milton was making no concessions to the 
 Churches of Rome or England, nor was he defining his views as later ; 
 he was simply expressing his scorn of the low state of the Church and 
 writing magnificent poetry. Stern bespake, sternly spoke out. In 
 what sense is ' ' bespeak ' ' now used ? 
 
 114. Enow, a considerable number. It is really a plural of enoxiqh. 
 Of. Oomus, 1. 780. From this line to 1. 119 the Saint pours out "his 
 scorn on the covetous and sensual portion of the clergy ; in other 
 words, Milton comes out plainly with the Puritan principles, implicit 
 enough in It PenseroHo and Comus. Cf. Sonnet xvi. 
 
 115. Notice the cumulative effect of the three verbs. There is no 
 reference to technical questions of ordination, but to the different 
 ways the clergy show their greed. 
 
 117. How to scramble, explains the "care" of which they do make 
 reckoning, i.e., to get rich preferments, from which they shove away 
 conscientious clergymen. Similar expostulations against the greed 
 of the established clergy had been made in England for centuries ; 
 by Langland in Piers Plowman, by Chaucer, in his humane and 
 humorous way, by Spenser {Eclogue v., which uses pastoral language. 
 
170 NOTES 
 
 but with far less effect than here), and of course by religious contro- 
 versialists. Shearer's feast. Church endowments, which he here 
 allows, but afterwards would have substituted by voluntary contribu- 
 tions. 
 
 119. Blind mouths^ i.e., men who are all mouth and no eyes ; blind 
 gluttons, an invective of supreme scorn. There is classical authority 
 for such an expression, and even for the use of such a verb as 
 "hold," which literally could apply only to the hands of the "hire- 
 lings." From this line to 1. 137 the ignorance and incompetence of 
 the established clergy as teachers and preachers is accentuated, and 
 the consequences to their flocks are pointed out. 
 
 120. The least should probably be taken with " aught," rather than 
 with " belongs." 
 
 121. Herdrnan's. Milton's MS. has " heardsman's," i.e., one who 
 tends sheep or cattle ; here equivalent to " shephei'd's," the word not 
 having been restricted in meaning. " Herdsman" occurs in Parti 
 dise Lost, ix., 1108. 
 
 132. Recks. See note to Comus, 1. 404. Are sped, i.e., have suc- 
 ceeded ; aie provided with the rich livings they coveted. Cf. God- 
 speed. See Skeat. 
 
 123. List, please. This verb was generally impersonal. See note 
 to Goiniix, 1. 49. Lean and flasJiy smg^ Grate, etc. Flashy, in.sipid, 
 vapid. It is not our "'flashy" (showy), but the derivation is uncer- 
 tain. See Cent. Diet. The reference here is to the unsubstantial 
 and vapid character of the preaching of the unlearned clergy. Jerram 
 notes the confusion involved in representing the proper business of 
 the clergy in terms of what in pastoral poetry, as well as in actual 
 life, is recreation merely. The force of the verses is hardly affected, 
 however ; nor need we much care when we find that Milton's subse- 
 quent views on the subject were much modified in favor of a less 
 formally trained clergy. 
 
 134. Scrannd seems, in the dialect of Lancashire, to mean " thin," 
 " lean." Milton may have picked it up in some way and been struck 
 with its expressiveness. The whole verse is seemingly based on a line 
 in Virgil {Ed. iii. , 27), 
 
 " Stridenti miserum stipula disperdere carmen." 
 
 126. If wind and rank (foul) mist refer, as they seem to do. to the 
 false teaching the congregations ("hungry sheep") get, the con- 
 fusion of thought noted above becomes greater ; for obviously " wind " 
 and '* mist " are independent of shepherds piping well or ill. But one 
 must not push such criticism too far. Draw, inhale. 
 
 127. lit)t, etc., i.e., become themselves unsound in doctrine and un- 
 settle and contaminate the faith of others. 
 
LYCIDA8 171 
 
 128. Grim wolf, probably the Church of Rome, reference being 
 made to the numerous perversions to that Church which characterized 
 the period at which Lyeklas was written. That Archbishop Laud was 
 referred to seems to be disproved by the expression ' ' privy (secret) 
 paw," for Laud was open enough in his actions and intentions. 
 "Wolf" was suggested by both scriptural and pastoral usage. Cf. 
 Paradise Losl, iv., 183-93 ; xii., 507 siq. 
 
 '[29. Apace. T-dpid\y. See note to 1. 111. And notJung said. Supply 
 " is" or " being." The reference can hardly be even here to Laud 
 iu particular, as his opposition to the Papacy was well known at Rome. 
 Perhaps Milton points at connivance on the part of the court at the 
 perversions to Rome. Warton's idea that the clergy who did not sai/ 
 a full service, with ''sermons three hours long," are referred to, seems 
 utterly untenable. 
 
 130. That two-haiuh'd engine. It is best to leave this dread instru- 
 ment of retribution shrouded in the obscurity with which the poet in- 
 tentionally surrounded it. We know that iu 1G37 it did stand " at the 
 door," and that it did smite once ; and we hope that it smote or will 
 smite "no more." An instrument (• engine," something made with 
 ingenuity ; see Skeat), of which we are told only that it is " two- 
 handed" {i.e., requires two hands to wield it), and that it smites, maybe 
 the scriptural " axe " that " is laid to the root of the tree," or, grant- 
 ing Milton to have been prophet as well as poet, the axe that beheaded 
 Laud in 1645, or the " two-edged sword " of Revelation, or the sword 
 of Justice, or the Old and New Testaments, or the two houses of Par- 
 liament, or the civil and ecclesiastical powers, or the scythe of Death, 
 or the two-handed sword of the romances of chivalry — or anything 
 that ingenious commentators may fancy and careful editors, like Bell 
 collect. If the student insist on a concrete interpretation, he may con 
 tent himself with the scriptural axe. The boldness of the whole pas 
 sage, and especially of the prophecy, has been often commented on 
 as well iis the fact that the poet escaped censure and punishment. 
 In the Cambridge edition Milton called no special attention to what 
 must have been to him the most important and momentous portion of 
 his poem, but in the prose •' Argument" affixed to the edition of 1G45, 
 he was explicit in his reference. 
 
 132-164. The '• dread voice" being past, the poet resumes the pas- 
 toral strain by invoking the " Sicilian Muse " to return and call upon 
 inanimate nature to mourn the fate of Lycidas. There is nothing 
 more tender or more exquisite in English poetry than the passage in- 
 cluded between 11. 132-51. Then follows the most magnificent and 
 imaginative strain of pure poetry that the elegy contains (11. 152-64), 
 poetry that makes no appeal to the " historic estimate," but produces 
 its effect simply because in it a sublime imagination has evolved 
 
172 NOTES 
 
 itself in " the grand style." To paraphrase, or even analyze, such a 
 strain would be as impertinent as it is unnecessary. It may, how- 
 ever, be well to recall the words of the late Walter Pater in his essay 
 on Style : " To find in the poem, amid the flowers, the allusions, the 
 mixed perspectives, of LyciddS for instance, the thought, the logical 
 structure : — how wholesome, how delightful ! " 
 
 132. Alpheus, a river of the Peloponnesus ; see note to 1. 85. Prob- 
 ably, as Jerram suggests, the mention of Arethusa in 1. 85 led to tht. 
 apostrophe to her lover here. Then, too, with Moschus naturally in 
 his mind, Milton might have recalled the beautiful seventh Idyl of the 
 latter, which is devoted to the river" s love for the fountain. Gua- 
 riui, too, had made the Alpheus speak the prologue of il Pastor Fido. 
 There is a bold flight of the imagination in the poet's describing his 
 temporary abandonment of the p.istoral strain by means of the script- 
 ural figure involved in the phrase "shrunk thy streams." There may 
 be also, as has been noted by Jerram, an intention to illustrate the 
 superiority of Christianity over Paganism. 
 
 133. Sicilian Muse, i.e., the muse of pastoral poetry, although the 
 reference is more directly to the muse of the SicUian Theocritus to 
 whom Bion and Moschus pay similar tribute. Cf. the refrain of the 
 latter's elegy on the former : 
 
 •' Begin, ye SicUian Muses, begin the strain." 
 
 134. ITitliei\ either the "laureate herse " of 1. 151, supposed to be 
 present, or the spot where it stands. See note to 1. 141. Cf. 1. 139. 
 
 136. Use, have their haunts or abodes (obsolete in this sense). Cf. 
 the Italian itsare in a similar sense (Aminta, II., ii.). 
 
 137. Wanton. See note to DAlleg., 1. 27. The phrases in this line 
 are of course to be taken in connection with "' \vhisi)ers." 
 
 138. Lap. Cf. Gray's " lap of earth ; " here it is the lap of the 
 "valleys low " on which the " swart (blackening) star," i.e., the Dog 
 Star, "sparely looks," i.e., has little influence. Swart refers to the 
 blackening effect of the heat of the dog-days on the vegetation of 
 the valleys. Browne thinks it may mean '• injurious," as niger some- 
 times does in Latin. The Romans believed that the star Sirius or 
 Canicula, in the mouth of the constellation Canis, caused the great 
 heat of this period ; hence the name. Looks may bear an astro- 
 logical meaning, as Warton suggested. Milton may have remembered 
 Horace on the Bandusian Fountain, Odes, III., xiii., 9-10 : 
 
 " Te flagrantis atrox hora Caniculse 
 Nescit tangere." 
 
 139. Eyes, flowers in general ; perhaps the reference is to buds that 
 look like " eyes." Cf. " bells " in 1. 135. Quaint-enamelled "Quaint " 
 
LTCIDA8 ' 173 
 
 seems hardly to be used in its sense of " neat, ' as Bell thinks, but 
 rather in its sense of "curious." referring to the remarkable char- 
 acter of natures work as exhibited in the " enamel" or coloring of 
 the flowers, which is compared to painting on a glass-like coating. 
 See Skeat lor both words. 
 
 140. Honeyed, sweet. This adjective, like others used by Milton, 
 is formed like a participle from a verb that does not exist. 
 
 141. Purple. Is this an imperative like " throw," or is it the 
 present indicative plural like • suck ? ' The latter interpretation 
 can hardly be accepted, for it forces us to ask why Milton added the 
 phrase "with vernal flowers," if 'eyes" b.; equivalent to flowers. 
 •Quaint-enamelled flowers that on the green turf suck the honeved 
 shower.s, and that purple all the ground with vernal flowers." sounds 
 rather queerly. If '• purple" be an imperative, this difficulty disaji- 
 pears, for " flowers" is no longer the subject of the verb, and we 
 have the i)retty idea of the ground around the •* lierse " of Lycidas 
 being, even in autumn, made purple with the flowers of spring. In 
 tbis case the " hither " of 11. 1:54, 139, will be equivMent to the spot 
 or ground where the " herse " is supposed to stand. It may be noted 
 that the lines that follow do not interfere with the second inter- 
 pretation, for " to strew," whether it be used of all the flowers enu- 
 merated or only of those mentioned in U. 149-150, might refer to the 
 plucking of growing flowers. Indeed, it is hard to see how the '• daf ■ 
 fadillies " of 1. loO can be bidden to fill their cups with tears," un- 
 less they are growing ; and the idea of '' growing" can be definitely 
 obtained only by viewing '• purple " as an imperative. " Purple " is 
 not employed here in a strict sense, but rather like the Latin jmrpu- 
 reux, for any bright color. Spenser speaks of the morrow's ' purple 
 hayre" F. Q., V., x., IG (quot' d by Jerram). Cf. Paradm Ij)st. iii , 
 364. 
 
 142. ijflri^c, early. Cf. rather. See Skeat. FovHukeiK i.e., hy the 
 sunlight. Milton first wrote "unwedded," with a po.«sible remem- 
 brance of Shak,spere( W. T., IV., iv , 122-25), and followed it by a 
 rather feeble line Warton found *' rathe and timely primrose" in 
 England's Helicon, a celebrated Elizabethau miscellany. Cf. Fair In- 
 fant, 1. 2, and M. Arnold's {Tliyrsis, 1. 120) : 
 
 "Primroses, orphans of the flowery prime." 
 
 It is interesting to note that the manuscripts show that the poet la- 
 bored most assiduously over this pass ige. and that every change was 
 for the better, in spite of Mr. Ku kins characterization of verse 146. 
 "The musk-ro.se and the well-attir d woodbine." as showing vulgar 
 fancy. The " well-attired woodbine ' took the place of " the garish 
 
174 NOTES 
 
 Columbine.' aud the epithet is exquisitely appropriate because of its 
 very familiarity. The poet compliments the household flower as he 
 would his daughter decked out for a pleasure paity. Whether Milton 
 imitated any special poet in the catalogue of flowers that he gives us 
 is very doubtful. Such catalogues are not rare or hard to make, and 
 it is only the fancy of editors that has made them see any intentional 
 resemblance to the list given in Spenser's fourth Eclogue. 
 
 143» Tufted crow-toe, the crow-foot. Tlie epithet describes the 
 plant when in flower. See note to IJAlleg. , 1. 78. 
 
 144. Freaked, spotted, freckled. The pansy is the flower of 
 thought. (Fr., pensee.) Cf. Hamlet, TV., v., 177, aud Comus, 1. 851. 
 Mr. Kuskiu does not like the epithet, but Milton was thinking oijet, 
 which meant for him that the flower carried mourning in its heart. 
 
 145. Gloiring. Mr. Ruskin is certainly right in seeing imagination 
 in this verse 
 
 14G. Well attired woodbi/ie, i e., the honeysuckle (?) with a comely 
 head-diess of flowers (Bell). Perhaps the epithet is used without 
 reference to any Special sort of attire. 
 
 147. Pensive. This epithet again enables Mr. Ruskin to declare 
 the presence of imagination. 
 
 148. Slid embroidery stood first in the form, "sorrow's livery," i.e., 
 the colors appropriate to mourning. Cf. 11 Pens., 1. 43 ; Comus, 
 1. 189. 
 
 149. AmarantJms. The plant gets its name from a^a'paj/ros, '"un- 
 fading." Cf. Paradise Lost, in., ^h'i. Jlis. its. ^ee note to li Pens., 
 1. 128. 
 
 150. Daffadillu'S, daffodils (asphodels). Tears, i.e.. dew. It seems 
 improbable that Milton attached any esoteric meaning to his choico 
 of tlie individual flowers that form his catalogue. He seems merely 
 to have desired to gather together, regardless of season or special 
 siguiticauce, a represemative group of beautiful aud probably favorite 
 flowers. 
 
 151. To strcto. It seems better to connect this infinitive with the 
 amaranthus and the daffadillies rather than with the whole of the 
 preceding passage. Laureate herse. Jerram appropriately quotes 
 from Stanley's .]f('morials of We.'<tiiiinster Abbey : " The herse was a 
 platform, decorated with black hangings, and containing an effigy of 
 the deceased. Laudator^' verses ['"laureate"] were aitachcd to it 
 with pins, wax, or paste." This is a better explanation of '" laureate " 
 than to point out the fact that King was a poet, or that he had 
 taken an academic degree. See Skeat. s. v. hearse, for interesting 
 changes of meaning. Lycid. Similar abbreviations are frequent in 
 our poetry. So Browne has 'Celand" for "Celandine" {Brit. 
 Past. I,, i., 284). 
 
L7GIDAS 175 
 
 152. The idea is that "to interpose a little ease" the poet has 
 already been dallyiug "with false surmise" (2.e., trifling with de- 
 ceptive fancies) iu imagining that the corpse of Lycidas is before him 
 ready to be strewn with flowers. Waking up to this fact, he asks his 
 reader to share this "surmise" with him ("let our," etc., but the 
 "surmise" has already been ''dallied with"), tlien is irresistibly 
 drawn away from his pretty fancies to an imaginative attempt to re- 
 alize what is actually happening to the body of his friend. 
 
 1")4. Ay me! Sue note to Voinus. 1. 511. Cf. 1.50. Shores was 
 substituted for "floods," and is therefore used deliberately. The 
 idea conveyed to my own mind is th;it Milton conceives the ' ' wash- 
 ing' of Lycida.s's body to be effected by the joint agency of the 
 "shores and suuutling seas," i.e. , the curp.se is dashed :igain.st the 
 shore by the waves, repelled thence, and d.islied elsewhere, the pro- 
 ces.s being repeated until the open sea i.s reached at one end of Britain 
 or the ottier. I notice that Verity appear.s to take this view. Mliilat 
 in this verse seems to require the insertion before it of some expression 
 like "shall we indulge such fancies? ' or rather the idea involved in 
 sucli an expression, which should not be defiuitely formulated in the 
 mind. 
 
 150. Ilebi'ides, the Western Isles, stretching along the west coast of 
 Scotland. 
 
 157. Whelming, submerging, overwhelming. It originally stood 
 " humming " — the chaiige being a marked improvement 
 
 15s. Monstrov^ refers to the unknown and terrible mhabitants of 
 the depths of the sea. 
 
 159. W/tet/ier, liere, contrary to what we should expect from 1. 150, 
 introduces a complete sentence, ^foi.st rows, vows accompanied by 
 tears, in allu.sion to the ancient custom of promising a god some gift 
 in case he answered a prayer favorably. Milton may possibly have 
 taken his idea from Horace's famous " Qais multa gracilis" {Odes, I., 
 v.), which he translated. The ode closes — 
 
 " Me tabitla sacer 
 Votira paries indicat uvida 
 Suspendisse potenti 
 
 Ve.stimenta maris deo." 
 
 The two italicized adjectives belong to different nouns but may bave 
 sugirested Milton's very phra.se. 
 
 KiO. FiiMe of Bilkriis, the fabled abode of Bellerus. The name 
 seems to have been coined by Miltcm from Bellerium, the Roman des- 
 ignation of Laud's End in Cornwall, and to be taken as typical of 
 the old Cornish giants. The giant Corineus. who Ih reputed to have 
 
176 NOTES 
 
 come to Britain with Brute, aud to whom Milton refers in his History 
 of Britain, stood in the manuscript originally, but the name was 
 rather unrhythmical and was dropped. It is barely possible that 
 Milton may have intended his line to mean, " Sleepest near the spot 
 whence the fable of Bellerus old takes its origin." 
 
 161. G7'eat Vision, etc., refers to the fabulous apparitions of St. 
 Michael in his chair (a crag so named) on the mountain near Land's 
 End called by his name. The Archangel was supposed to "guard" 
 the mount. 
 
 162. Namancos and Bayona are both places in the Spanish prov- 
 ince Galicia, near Cape Finisterre. Hold, casile, stronghold. St. 
 Michael is supposed to get a clear sea view in the direction of these 
 two towns, which being obscure long puzzled the commentators as to 
 their whereabouts, Todd first discovering them in editions of Mercn- 
 tofs Atlas of 1633 and 1636. Mr Verity has a long and interesting 
 note showing how Milton probably got his two names from one of 
 these editions; but he was so widely read that he might not have 
 needed to hunt out names to fit his verses. 
 
 163. Anr/el. This word and verse liave given rise to much discus.sion. 
 Some editors maintain that the Angel is St. Michael, who is implored 
 to cease looking toward Spain and to cast his ^^yes upon the seas near 
 at hand— probably that he may discover the body of Lycidas. Others 
 claim that Lycidas himself is the Angel, who is t > look homeward and 
 melt with compassion ('"ruth") for his gorrovvin^j friends, while 
 dolphins are prayed to waft the youth's body. I cannot agree with 
 Bell that 1. 161 prevents th" acceptance of the latter view, for 1 have 
 just shown how it may lie i)lausibly interpreted ; but I am not con- 
 vinced by Jerr:im's long arjiiimeut that Lycidas really is the Angel. 
 The latter editor t'oroughly disposes of Warton's objection to the ex- 
 pression '"melt with ruth," and strengthens his case by citing some 
 lines from Sannaz ros first Echfjrte, which strikingly resemble Mil- 
 ton's verses, and lend themselves to the second interpretation only. 
 But although Jerram is sure Milton had these lines in his mind, there 
 is no proof that he realiy had, and unfortunately the main argument 
 on which the learned editor relies can be ea-;ily overthrown. This is 
 that the verse under di.^cussion is needed to complete the sentence be- 
 gun with "Aj'rae!" of which Lycidas is the subject throughout. 
 Therefore Lycidas continues to be the subject. But really Lycidas 
 is the .subject of dependent clauses, the main verb of the sentence 
 havin? to he su]ip'ied (see note to 1. 154), and practically 1. 163 ends 
 the sentence, the address to the Anj^el being a sudden break as com- 
 plete as that in 1. 154. St. Michael is, as Jerram urges, merely in- 
 troduced parenthetically and not by name in 11. 161-63, but this is no 
 reason wny the poet should not break off the long descriptive passage 
 
LVCIDAS 177 
 
 and address him. And after all the arguments pro and con have been 
 weij^hed. one might cjine back to the obviously intentional verbal con- 
 trast of •' looks toward" and " look backward," and rest the case for 
 St. Michael there, although it might be further urged that there is 
 greater imaginative power in an address to the Archangel than in one 
 to the beatified Lycidas so soon to be apostrophized. But there is 
 one convincing argument, which it is strange that Mr. Jerram of all 
 other editors should have overlooked. As we shall soon see. he has 
 correctly explained that 1. 179 c lunot refer to angelic hierarchies, but 
 niu.st refer to the ''communion of saints." How then can he main- 
 tain that Lycidas is an (intjel here, simply on the score of the popular 
 use of the word? Milton was too good a theologian to anticipate 
 that deliciously heretical wish we utter whenever we sing, " I want 
 to be an angel." Lycidas was bound to be a sal/it, not an angel ; and 
 it is instructive to note that Saunazaro. on whom Jerram relies, used 
 the quite orthodox phrase " Elysios inter inanes." The frequent use 
 of '• Saints " with reference to angels in Paradm Loxt does not affect 
 the argument, for the word is there used as a convenient designation 
 of the loyal angels, and there was yet no race of mortals to recruit the 
 ranks of the " Saints " 
 
 1 04. Dolpldns. The reference is to the well-known story of the 
 rescue of the Greek poet, Arion. When sailors with whom he was 
 voyaging were about to rob him and cast him overboard he obtained 
 permission to sing his swan's song. The hard he irts of the pirates 
 were not sol'tened, but the doljihins, who had paused in their sports, 
 were enchanted, and swimming to his side, they supported him back 
 to Corinth. It is needle.ss to add that the wicked pirates were duly 
 and filly punished. See note to Comux, 1. 48. Other stories of res- 
 cues performed by dolphins may be found in ancient writers. An 
 English reference to the Arion legend, which suggests a comparison 
 with the present passage, occurs in George Turberviile's Epitnphe on 
 Arthur Brooke. Shakspere's predecessor in treating the story of 
 Romeo and Juliet, who dieil by shipwreck in 1503 : 
 
 " Ay mee. that time, thou crooked dolphin where 
 Wast thou, Arj'on's help and onely stay, 
 That safely him from sea to shore didst beare, 
 
 W^hen Brooke was drownd why was thou then away ? " 
 
 Waft is generally used in connection with the wind. It has a very 
 happy effect here. ([f. Tennyson's (/ft Memoriam, ix.) invocation to 
 the " fair ship," 
 
 '■ Spiea<l thy full wingw. and waft him o'er." 
 12 
 
178 NOTES 
 
 165-185. In these linea Milton, as is not infrequently the case in 
 elegies, beatifies his friend, in a strain of poetry only slightly inferior 
 to the magnificent passage that had just been 'ronclAided. Editors 
 have compared the verses with similar beatifications in other elegies 
 with no result save to emphasi/.e by contrast the supreuie and match 
 less beauty of Milton's achievement. A comparisou with the closing 
 Hues of the EpU'iphium Ddmoids is interesting, for this is to compare 
 Milton With himself ; a comparison with the closing lines of Mosclms's 
 Elegy on BU>n is also interesting, for this is to compare Milton with 
 one of the greatest of his masters, and to bring out sharply the differ- 
 ence between the classical and the Christian conceptions of death. 
 The latter result is also brought out by a comi)aiison of Lycidas with 
 Propertius's Elegy on I'actus. Cf. with 11. IGo-Sl the following lines 
 from Jloschus as translated by Mr. Lang: " Ah me, when the mal- 
 lows wither in the garden, and the green paisley, and the curled 
 teudrils of the anise, on a later day they live again, and spring in an- 
 other year ; but we men. we, the great and mighty, or wise, when 
 once we have died, in hollow eartii we sleep, gone down into silence ; 
 a right long, and endless, and unawakening sleep. And thuu too, in 
 the earth wdt be lapped in silence, but the nymphs have thought- 
 good that the frog shoul 1 eternally sing. Nay, him I would not envy, 
 for 'tis no sweet song he singeth." Cf.. now, the preceding with the 
 closing stanzas of Matthew Arnold's tender verses entitled Geist^n 
 Grace, and with the following lines from the same poet's 'J'hymii^ in 
 memory of Arthur Hugh Clough : 
 
 '■ For there thine earth -forgetting ryelids keep 
 The morningless and unawakening sleep 
 Under the flowery oleanders pale." 
 
 165. Lay stresses as follows : ' Weep no more woful shepherds, 
 weep no m(')re " (Keightley, quoted by Browne). Note ihe repetition 
 and compTre the close of Spenser's eleventh Edogw and the twelfth 
 stanza of the Doleful Lay of Clarinda^ included in the same poet's 
 AhI ro'}-)7iel. 
 
 166. Y'mr sorrow, cause or object of your sorrow. 
 
 167. Floor. Cf. level brine of 1. 9S. 
 
 168. Day dni\ the sun. Jerram thinks that Mil* on probably fol- 
 lowed clas,?ical poets in confu-sing Lucifer and Hesperus, the morning 
 and evening stars, as though they were one and the same planet per- 
 forming the two services within the space of twelve hours. But we 
 know that the sun is called the " diurnal star" by Milton (Paradise 
 Lost. X., 1069) after classical authority and the language of the pas- 
 sage fits the sun better than it does the morning-star; e.g., "ore," 
 
LTCIDAS 179 
 
 "flames." Jerram, liowever, refers to passages in Homer and Virgil 
 where the moruiug-star is described a-s "bathed" in the ocean, and 
 he gives a passaii^e from Giles Fletcher's ChrisCs Victory, iv., 89 stg.. 
 in which the rising of the morning star from the sea is described in 
 language very like that employed by Milton. The matter must be 
 left slightly in doubt ; but the first nine verses of the lyric in Coinus 
 (1. 90) that begins 
 
 " Tlie star that bids the shepherd fold " 
 
 will convince mcst readers that iMilton meant the .sun. Besides, in 
 this connection one naturally thinks of such a scriptural passage as 
 " But unto y'ou that fear my name shall the sun of righteousness arise 
 with healing in his wings " {MaUichi iv. 3). 
 
 169. Annn (in one), shortly. Repairs, either refreshes or renews. 
 
 170. Trickn, displays, sets in order. Cf. 11 Pens., 1. 123. New- 
 spangled ore, freshly sparkling metal, or rather freshly glittering gold. 
 Cf. Comns, 1. 1008. Addi.son in his paraphrase of the 19th Psalm has 
 the phrase " spangled heavens." See Skeat. 
 
 172. i)'i7i/c and inount( (J are preterites, not p.rticiples. The "so" 
 of this line has its 'as" understood at the beginning of the de.scrip- 
 tion in 11. 108-71. The '"so" of 1. 108 connects this description with 
 11. 106-7. 
 
 173. See Matthew xiv. 23 fteq. The reference is very api)ropriate in 
 view of the way King p rished. M'alked i^ transitive. Cf II l\ns 
 1. ir)6. 
 
 174. Where, i.e., mounted aloft to ichere, or to that place trhere. 
 Note the repetition of other, and the position of along, which may 
 convey the idea of moving, but probably means " amid.st. " 
 
 175. Nectar. See note to Comas, 1. 480. Oazy, slimed by the mud 
 at the bottom of the sea. Cf. Nut. Ode, 1. 124; Paradise Lost, vii., 
 303. Zr«YS, washes, ^f. ^awrs, Cow -/s, 1. 838 and note. 
 
 176. ?7"«^a;/msww, inexpressible. Cf.Nat.Ode,\.\\l\_ The Eliza- 
 bethans frequently iised adjectives in -ivc where we should expect -ible 
 or -able. See Abbott. g3. Nuptial Song. See Ree. xix. 0. 7, the song 
 being that sung at the marriage feist of the Lamb, to which all true 
 believers are invited. Warton aptly cites from IMilton's Latin poem 
 Ad Pairem, 1. 37 : 
 
 " Immortale melos et inenarrabile carmen." 
 
 The mixture of classical and Christian imagery in these lines need 
 concern us little, for the art di<=played in them is supreme, and the 
 idea of mixture is at the root of all anthropomorphism. 
 
 177. Kingdoms meek may mean, as some hold, "abodes of the meek " 
 (this can have no reference to Mattheic v. 5, for there the "meek" 
 
180 NOTES 
 
 are to '"inherit the earth"), but there seems to be no reason why it 
 should not be taken as about equivalent to " peaceful." 
 
 179. Some editors take this line to refer to the angelic hierarchies 
 or orders that play an important part in Paradise Lost. But the use of 
 " Saints" inclines me to agree with Jet ram that the idea is rather an 
 exquisitely poeiical aud concrete rendei iug of the doctrine implied in 
 the phrase, " communion of saints." 
 
 181. A scriptural idea. See Rev. vii. 17, xxi. 4 ; Isaldh xxv. 8. 
 
 183. Cf. 1. Kw. 
 
 18;i Genim. See note to H Pens. , 1. 154. The idea of the drowned 
 person's becoming a guardian spirit of the place where he met his fate, 
 so that he miglit warn off future voyagers, was common in ancient 
 times (see note to Coiinis, 1. 8G8, as to Melicertes), and would naturally 
 suggest itself to Milton as a pioper close to his monody. He was 
 probably not aware that literal-minded commentators would dog his 
 footsteps, and when they could no longer follow his swift transitions, 
 bay at him. Why the poet could not appropriately leave Lye das among 
 the saints aud come back to the sorrowing shepherds on earth with the 
 comforting assurance that their deceased brother would not merely 
 enjoy the bliss of heaven, but would also perform friendly services to 
 mortals below, passes my comprehension. I should have thought it a 
 most obviously fitting close for a noble elegy, had I not read so many 
 sorrowful editorial ejaculations about the mixture of pagan and Chris- 
 tian imagery. After all Milton would have the distinguished .^^upport 
 of Sannazaro in this matter (Eclor/vt i. , quoted by Jerram and Browne) 
 if he needed the support of any mortal man. 
 
 184. Ik thy litrr/i' ncompcnse, i.e. , as a great recompense to thee for 
 all thou hast undergone. King, having intended to become a clergy- 
 man, would feel it a real recompense to be allowed to serve his fellow- 
 men iu the capacity of a guardian spirit. 
 
 185. Perilous is dis.syliaVuc. 
 
 186-193. This p issage forms an epilogue to the monody proper. It 
 gives us a perfect stauza in ottara rima (rhyming a, b, a, b, a, b, c, c), 
 the metrical form being changed to emphn.size the fact that the " un- 
 couth swain" is no longer singing, but is lieing himself described in 
 langunge that for picturesqueness and beauty is not often excelled in 
 the <-legy prop t. 
 
 180. Uncouth. See note to L'AUeg., 1. 5. It may possibly be equiva- 
 lent to '• homely" here, but it probably refers to the fact that Milton 
 was still young and '" unknown." 
 
 187. An exquisite line. Cf. Paradise Regained.^ iv., 426-7 : 
 
 ' ' till Morning fair 
 Came forth with pilgrim steps, in amice gray." 
 
LYCIDAS 181 
 
 Cf. also Comus. 1. 188. The shepherd is, of course, represented as 
 begiuuiug at dawn and singing thiough the whole day — the iuteusity 
 of his grief being measured by the fact that he neglects his flock for 
 80 long a period. 
 
 188. 2V/irftr, because used for the "tender" elegy. Stops. See 
 note to Comus, 1. 845. Vaiious quills. " Quill " is literally a reed, 
 its use as a birds leather being probably secondarj'. See Skeat. 
 
 Various is generally taken to refer to the variety of strains or 
 •■ moods '■ in the elegy itself. 
 
 189. Doric ^«j', pastoral song. Theocritus and Bion wrote in the 
 Doric dialect, as Moschus affirmed when he sang of the latter, " with 
 Bion song too has died, and perished hath the Dorian minstrelsy." 
 Syracuse, where Theocritus flourished, and whence pastoral poetry 
 came, was of Dorian origin, which may account for the phrase as well 
 as the reason citt d above. Tlwucjht is probably used here in the sense 
 of "care " (Bell;. 
 
 190. t^tretch'd out all tJie hills, an imaginative way of saying that 
 the shadows of the hills had been lengthened as the sun sank low. 
 Cf. Virgil, Ed. i , 84 : 
 
 " Majoresque cadunt altis de montibus umbrae." 
 
 192. Ticitehed, etc. "■ Drew tightly around him on nccount of sud- 
 denly finding the evening chill," is a better explanation of this ex- 
 pression than " snatched up his mantle from where it lay beside him," 
 as some editors have understood it to mean. Blue is said by Pro- 
 fessor Hales to be the proper color for a shepherd's dress ; but Mr. 
 Verity and other scholars seem to think the bulk of evidence is in 
 favor of gray. 
 
 193. It is not unlikely that there is a reference in the last verse to 
 Milton's own intentions of giving himself up to other and more se 
 rious work, or of undertaking the Italian journey, but there is no 
 need to press the point The line without any inward significance 
 forms a natural close to the epilogue. Cf. Phineas Fletcher's, ' ' Pur- 
 ple Island," and note the difference in stylo : 
 
 " Home then, my lambs ; the falling drops eschew ; 
 To-morrow shall ye feast in pastures new." 
 
 It is impossible not to regret that Milton should have kept his prom- 
 ise. A return to the " woods and pastures " where Lycidas was sung 
 would have meant a happier Milton, and two " high-water marks of 
 English poesy." 
 
LONGMANS, GREEN, &- CO.'S P U BLICATJ ONS. 
 
 A STUDENT'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND, from 
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 By Samuel Rawson Gardiner, M.A., LL.D., Fellow of All Souls 
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 tbe basis for English nistory study in the University. 
 
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 hand of the s<;holar thoroughly conversant with the source and with the results 
 of recent criticism is plainly revealed. "^77^^ Nation, N. Y. 
 
 " . . . It is illustrated by pictures of real value ; and when accompanied 
 by the companion ' Atlas of English History' is all that need be desired for its 
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LONGMANS, GREEN, &= CO.' S PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 LONGMANS' SCHOOL GRAMMAR. 
 
 By David Salmon. Part I., Parts of Speecli ; Pan II., Classification 
 and Inflection ; Part III., Analysis of Sentences ; Part IV., History 
 and Derivation. Witii Notes for Teachers and Index. New Edition, 
 Revised. With Preface by E. A. Allen, Professor of English in the 
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 " The Grammar deserves to supersede all others with which we are ac- 
 quainted." — N. Y. Nation, July 2, 1891. 
 
 PREFACE TO AMERICAN EDITION. 
 
 It seems to be generally conceded that English grammar is worse taught 
 and less understood than any other subject in the school course. This is, 
 doubtless, largely due to the kind of text-books used, which, for the most part, 
 require methods that violate the laws of pedagogy as \\ell as of language. 
 There are, however, two or three English grammars that are admirable com- 
 mentaries on tlie facts of the language, but, written from the point of view of 
 the scholar rather than of the learner, they fail to awaken any interest in the 
 subject, and hence are not serviceable for the class-room. 
 
 My attention was first called to Longmans' School Grammar by a favorable 
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 with failures had at last been produced. For the practical test of the class- 
 room, I placed it in the hands of an accomplished grammarian, who had tried 
 several of the best grammars published, and he declares the results to be most 
 satisfactory. 
 
 The author's simplicity of method, the clear statement of facts, the orderly 
 arrangement, the wise restraint, manifest on every page, reveal the scholar and 
 practical teacher. No one who had not mastered tlie language in its early his- 
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 less rules and endless details. The most striking feature, minitniim of precept, 
 maximum of example, will commend itself to all teachers who follow rational 
 methods. In this edition, the Publishers have adapted the illustrative sentences 
 to the ready comprehension of American pupils, and I take pleasure in recom- 
 mending the book, in behalf of our mother tongue, to the teachers of our Pub- 
 lic and Private Schools. 
 
 Edward A. Allen. 
 University of Missouri, May, 1891. 
 
 MR. HAI.E'S school, BOSTON. 
 
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 LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO., 15 East Sixteenth Street. New York. 
 
LONGMANS, GREEN, &= COr S PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 LONGMANS' SCHOOL G^hMMNK.— OPINIONS. 
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 '' When you put Longmans' School Grammar in my hands, some year or 
 two ago, I used it a little while with a boy of nine years, with perfect satisfac- 
 tion and approval. The exigencies of the boy's school arrangements inter- 
 cepteil that course in grammar and caused the book to be laid aside. To-day 
 I have taken the book and have e.xamined it alt, from cover to cover. It i« 
 simply a perfect grammar. Its beginnings are made with utmost gentleness 
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 public schools course it is, for the present, desirable to think of going. The 
 author has adjusted his book to the very best conceivable methods of teaching, 
 and goes hand in hand with the instructor as a guide and a help. Grammar 
 should, so taught, become a pleasure to teacher and pupil. Especially do I 
 relish the author's pages of ' Notes for Teachers,' at the end of the book. The 
 man who could write these notes should enlarge them into a monograph on the 
 teaching of English Grammar. He would, thereby, add a valuable contribu- 
 tion to our stock of available pedagogic helps. I must add in closing, that 
 while the book in question has, of course, but small occasion to touch disputed 
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 gogically, altogether competent for his task." 
 
 — Principal Samuel Thurber. 
 
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 are more "complete " and as correct in teaching but not one to be compared 
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 mtelligence.' — Principal C. T. Lane. 
 
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 adopted for use in our classes over a year since. Its strong points are simplic- 
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 LONGMANS' SCHOOL GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 By George G. Chisholm, M.A., B.Sc, Author of "Handbook of Com- 
 mercial Geography," "A Smaller Commercial Geography," etc., etc., 
 and C. H. Leete, A.M., Ph.D., Fellow of the American Geographical 
 Society. Fourth edition, revised, large i2mo, witli 70 Illustrations. 384 
 pages. $1.25. 
 
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 world are, thert fore, not treated upon a uniform plan or according to a rigid 
 outline, but that which is most distinctive and characteristic in each is presented 
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 geography t-qually, if not more, important than to memorize, spet ial promi- 
 nence is given to the relation of cause and effect. The book is especially suited 
 for use in Normal Schools and in Schools where more than elementary geo- 
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 \* A descriptive circular of the book and of the Companion Atlas and Book of 
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 sented that its perusal is at once pleasurable, suggestive, and of substantial 
 value." This is perfectly true. . . . On the whole the book is remarkably 
 successful." — Nation, N. Y. 
 
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 in geographical teaching, and is itself a product of the movement for reform in 
 England, which originated with the Geographical Society." 
 
 — \l 'i scons in youriial of Education. 
 
 "... Probably the best book of the kind ever published in our language, 
 and ought to help in improving the instruction of our schools in geography. 
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 which entitles it to the attention of teachers. " — Boston Beacon. 
 
 " It has a system of cross references that is very valuable and constantly 
 reminds the pupil that all are parts of a whole. It does not merely state 
 facts, but attempts to show a cause for each phenomenon, so that the study of 
 geography is not mere memoriter work." — Educational Courant. 
 
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LONGMANS, GREEN, 6- CO: S PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 LONGMANS' NEW SCHOOL ATLAS. Consisting 
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 Longmans' New School Atlas is intended, as its name implies, tor use in 
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 With this end in view three groups of maps have been prepared : first, nine 
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 their physical and political aspects. 
 
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