The Mask was prefented in 1634, and consequently in the 26th year of our author's age. In the title page of the first edition printed in 1637, it is faid that it was prefented on Michaelmas night, and there was this motto,

Eheu quid volui mifero mihi! floribus auftrum
Perditus------

In this edition, and in that of Milton's poems in 1645, there was prefixed to the Mask the following dedication.

To the Right Honorable

JOHN Lord Vicount BRACKLY fon and heir apparent to the Earl of BRIDGEWATER, &c.

MY LORD,

HIS

TH

poem, which received its first occafion of birth from yourself and others of your noble family, and much honor from your own person in the performance, now returns again to make a final dedication of itself to you. Although not openly acknowledg'd by the author, yet it is a legitimate ofspring, fo lovely, and fo much defired, that the often copying of it hath tir'd my pen to give my several friends fatisfaction, and brought me to a neceffity of producing it to the public view; and now to offer it up in all rightful devotion to thofe fair hopes, and rare endowments of your much

pro

promising youth, which give a full assurance, to all that know you, of a future excellence. Live sweet Lord to be the honor of your name, and receive this as your own, from the hands of him, who hath by many favors been long oblig'd to your most honor'd parents, and as in this representation your attendent Thyrfis, fo now in all real expreffion

Your faithful and moft

humble Servant,

H. LAWES.

In the edition of 1645 was alfo prefixed Sir Henry Wotton's letter to the author upon the following poem: but as we have inserted it in the Life of Milton, there is no occafion to repeat it here.

M

B'

A

A S K.

The first scene discovers a wild wood.

The attendent Spirit defcends or enters.

EFORE the ftarry threshold of Jove's court

My mansion is, where those immortal shapes

Of bright aereal Spirits live infpher'd

In regions mild of calm and serene air,

5

ΙΟ

Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot,
Which men call Earth, and with low thoughted
Confin'd, and pester'd in this pin-fold here, (care
Strive to keep up a frail and feverish being,
Unmindful of the crown that virtue gives
After this mortal change to her true servants
Amongst the enthron'd Gods on fainted feats.
Yet fome there be that by due steps aspire
To lay their just hands on that golden key,
That opes the palace of eternity:
To fuch my errand is; and but for such,
I would not foil these pure ambrofial weeds
With the rank vapors of this fin-worn mold.
But to my task. Neptune befides the fway
Of every falt flood, and each ebbing stream,
Took in by lot 'twixt high and nether Jove
E e

15

20

Impe

Imperial rule of all the fea-girt iles,

That like to rich and various gems inlay
The unadorned bofom of the deep,
Which he to grace his tributary Gods

By course commits to several government,

25

And gives them leave to wear their faphir crowns,

30

35

And wield their little tridents: but this Ile,
The greatest and the best of all the main,
He quarters to his blue-hair'd deities;
And all this tract that fronts the falling fun
A noble Peer of mickle truft and power
Has in his charge, with temper'd awe to guide
An old, and haughty nation proud in arms:
Where his fair ofspring nurs'd in princely lore
Are coming to attend their father's ftate,
And new-intrusted scepter; but their way
Lies through the perplex'd paths of this drear wood,
The nodding horror of whose shady brows
Threats the forlorn and wand'ring passenger;
And here their tender age might fuffer peril,
But that by quick command from sovran Jove
I was dispatch'd for their defense and guard;
And liften why, for I will tell you now
What never yet was heard in tale or fong,
From old or modern bard, in hall or bower.

Bacchus, that firft from out the purple grape Crush'd the sweet poison of mis-used wine, After the Tuscan mariners transform'd,

40

45

Coaft

Coafting the Tyrrhene fhore, as the winds lifted, On Circe's iland fell: (Who knows not Circe 50 The daughter of the fun? whose charmed cup Whoever tafted, loft his upright shape,

56

And downward fell into a groveling fwine)
This Nymph that gaz'd upon his cluftring locks,
With ivy berries wreath'd, and his blithe youth,
Had by him, ere he parted thence, a fon
Much like his father, but his mother more,
Whom therefore fhe brought up, and Comus nam'd,
Who ripe, and frolic of his full grown age,
Roving the Celtic and Iberian fields,

At laft betakes him to this ominous wood,
And in thick fhelter of black fhades imbowr'd
Excels his mother at her mighty art,
Offering to every weary traveller
His orient liquor in a crystal glass,

60

65

Toquench the drouth of Phoebus, which as they taste,
(For most do taste through fond intemp'rate thirst)
Soon as the potion works, their human count'nance,
Th' express resemblance of the Gods, is chang'd
Into fome brutifh form of wolf, or bear,
Or ounce, or tiger, hog, or bearded goat,
All other parts remaining as they were;
And they, fo perfect is their misery,
Not once perceive their foul disfigurement,

70

But boast themselves more comely than before, 75 And all their friends and native home forget,