THE PERSONS.

The attendant SPIRIT, afterwards in the habit of Thyrsis.

COMUS with his crew.

The LADY.

First BROTHER.

Second BROTHER.

SABRINA the Nymph.

The chief persons who presented were,

The Lord BRACKLY.

Mr. THOMAS EGERTON his brother.

The Lady ALICE EGERTON.

A MASK.*

1

The 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 inspher'd
In regions mild of calm and serene air,
Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot

Which men call earth, and with low-thoughted care,
Confin'd and pester'd in this pin-fold here,
Strive to keep up a frail and feverish being,
Unmindful of the crown that virtue gives
After this mortal change to her true servants
Amongst the enthron'd gods on sainted seats.
Yet some there be that by due steps aspire
To lay their just hands on that golden key,
That opes the palace of eternity:

To such my errand is; and but for such,
I would not soil these pure ambrosial weeds
With the rank vapours of this sin-worn mould.

* Milton seems in this poem to have imitated Shakspeare's manner in more than any other of his works; and it was very natural for a young author preparing a piece for the stage, to propose to himself for a pattern, the most celebrated master of English dramatic poetry. He has likewise very closely imitated several passages in Beaumont and Fletcher's play of The Faithless Shepherdess.

F*

But to my task. Neptune, besides the sway
Of every salt flood, and each ebbing stream,
Took in by lot 'twixt high and nether Jove,
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-hair'd deities;

And all this tract that fronts the falling sun
A noble of mickle trust and power
peer

Has in his charge, with temper'd awe to guide
An old and haughty nation, proud in arms:
Where his fair offspring nurs'd in princely lore
Are coming to attend their father's state,
And new-intrusted sceptre: 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 suffer peril,
But that by quick command from sov'reign Jóve
I was despatch'd for their defence and guard:
And listen why, for I will tell you now
What never yet was heard in tale or song,
From old or modern bard, in hall or bower.
Bacchus, that first from out the purple grape
Crush'd the sweet poison of misused wine,
After the Tuscan mariners transform'd,
Coasting the Tyrrhene shore, as the winds listed,
On Circe's island fell: (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,)
This Nymph that gaz'd upon his clust'ring locks,
With ivy-berries wreath'd, and his blithe youth,

Had by him, ere he parted thence, a son,
Much like his father, but his mother more,
Whom, therefore, she brought up, and Comus nam'd;
Who ripe, and frolic of his full-grown age,

Roving the Celtic and Iberian fields,

At last betakes him to this ominous wood,
And in thick shelter of black shades embower'd
Excels his mother at her mighty art,
Offering to every weary traveller,

His orient liquor in a crystal glass,

To quench 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 some brutish form of wolf, or bear,
Or ounce, or tyger, hog, or bearded goat,
All other parts remaining as they were;
And they, so perfect is their misery,
Not once perceive their foul disfigurement,
But boast themselves more comely than before,
And all their friends and native home forget,
To roll with pleasure in a sensual sty;
Therefore when any favour'd of high Jove
Chances to pass through this advent'rous glade,
Swift as that sparkle of a glancing star

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 his 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
Of this occasion. But I hear the tread
Of hateful steps, I must be viewless now.

As false portents, not sent from God, but thee:
Who knowing I shall reign past thy preventing,
Obtrud'st thy offer'd aid, that I accepting

At least might seem to hold all power of thee,
Ambitious spirit, and wouldst be thought my God,
And storm'st refus'd, thinking to terrify

Me to thy will: desist, thou art discern'd
And toil'st in vain, nor me in vain molest,

To whom the fiend, now swoln with rage, replied: Then hear, O Son of David, Virgin-born;

For Son of God to me is yet in doubt;
Of the Messiah I have heard foretold

By all the prophets of thy birth, at length
Announc'd by Gabriel, with the first I knew,
And of th' angelic song in Bethlehem field,

On thy birth-night, that sung thee Saviour born.
From that time seldom have I ceas'd to eye
Thy infancy, thy childhood, and thy youth,
Thy manhood last, though yet, in private bred;
Till at the ford of Jordan, whither all
Flock to the Baptist, I among the rest

Though not to be baptiz'd, by voice from heaven
Heard thee pronounc'd, the Son of God belov'd.
Thenceforth I thought thee worth my nearer view
And narrower scrutiny, that I might learn
In what degree or meaning thou art call'd
The Son of God, which bears no single sense:
The Son of God I also am, or was;

And if I was, I am; relation stands:

All men are sons of God: yet thee I thought
In some respect far higher so declar'd;

Therefore I watch'd thy footsteps from that hour,
And follow'd thee still on to this waste wild;
Where by all best conjectures I collect

Thou art to be my

fatal enemy.

Good reason then, if I beforehand seek

To understand my adversary, who

And what he is; his wisdom, power, intent;
By parle, or composition, truce, or league,