A Maske [Comus] Presented at Ludlow Castle, 1634: On Michaelmasse night, before the Right Honorable, Iohn Earle of Bridgewater, Vicount Brackly, Lord Praesident of Wales, And one of His Maiesties most honorable Privie Counsell [by John Milton] |
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Song. |
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 | A Maske [Comus] |  |
Song.
Sweet echo, sweetest Nymph that liv'st unseene
Within thy ayrie shell
By slow Meander's margent greene,
And in the violet-imbroider'd vale
Where the love-lorne Nightingale
Nightly to thee her sad Song mourneth well.
Within thy ayrie shell
By slow Meander's margent greene,
And in the violet-imbroider'd vale
Where the love-lorne Nightingale
Nightly to thee her sad Song mourneth well.
Canst thou not tell me of a gentle Paire
That likest thy Narcissus are?
O if thou have
Hid them in some flowrie Cave,
Tell me but where
Sweet Queen of Parlie, Daughter of the Sphare,
So maist thou be translated to the skies,
And give resounding grace to all Heav'ns Harmonies.
Com.
That likest thy Narcissus are?
O if thou have
Hid them in some flowrie Cave,
Tell me but where
Sweet Queen of Parlie, Daughter of the Sphare,
So maist thou be translated to the skies,
And give resounding grace to all Heav'ns Harmonies.
Can any mortall mixture of Earths mould
Breath such Divine inchanting ravishment?
Sure something holy lodges in that brest,
And with these raptures moves the vocal aire
To testifie his hidden residence;
How sweetly did they float upon the wings
Of Silence, through the emptie-vaulted night
At every fall smoothing the Raven downe
Of darknesse till she smil'd: I have oft heard
10
Amidst the slowrie-kirtl'd Naiades
Culling their Potent hearbs, and balefull drugs
Who as they sung, would take the prison'd soule
And lap it in Elysium, Scylla wept,
And chid her barking waves into attention,
And fell Charybdis murmur'd soft applause:
Yet they in pleasing slumber lull'd the sense
And in sweet madnesse rob'd it of it selfe,
But such a sacred, and home-felt delight,
Such sober certainty of waking blisse
I never heard till now. Ile speake to her
And she shall be my Queene. Haile forreine wonder
Whom certaine these rough shades did never breed
Vnlesse the Goddesse that in rurall shrine
Dwell'st here with Pan, or Silvan, by blest Song
Forbidding every bleake unkindly Fog
To touch the prosperous growth of this tall wood.
La.
Nay gentle Shepherd ill is lost that praise
That is addrest to unattending Eares,
Not any boast of skill, but extreame shift
How to regaine my sever'd companie
Compell'd me to awake the courteous Echo
To give me answer from her mossie Couch.
Co.
What chance good Ladie hath bereft you thus?
La.
Dim darknesse, and this leavie Labyrinth.
Co.
Could that divide you from neere-ushering guides?
La.
They left my weary on a grassie terfe.
Co.
By falshood, or discourtesie, or why?
La.
To seeke i'th val'y some coole friendly Spring.
Co.
And left your faire side all unguarded Ladie?
La.
They were but twain, & purpos'd quick return.
11
Perhaps fore-stalling night prævented them.
La.
How easie my misfortune is to hit!
Co.
Imports their losse, beside the præsent need?
La.
No lesse then if I should my brothers lose.
Co.
Were they of manly prime, or youthful bloom?
La.
As smooth as Hebe's their unrazord lips.
Co.
Two such I saw, what time the labour'd Oxe
In his loose traces from the furrow came,
And the swink't hedger at his Supper sate;
I saw them under a greene mantling vine
That crawls along the side of yon small hill,
Plucking ripe clusters from the tender shoots,
Their port was more then humaine; as they stood,
I tooke it for a faërie vision
Of some gay creatures of the element
That in the colours of the Rainbow live
And play i'th plighted clouds, I was aw-strooke,
And as I past, I worshipt; if those you seeke
It were a journy like the path to heav'n
To helpe you find them.
La.
Gentle villager
What readiest way would bring me to that place?
Co.
Due west it rises from this shrubbie point.
La.
To find out that good shepheard I suppose
In such a scant allowance of starre light
Would overtask the best land-pilots art
Without the sure guesse of well-practiz'd feet.
Co.
I know each lane, and every alley greene
Dingle, or bushie dell of this wild wood,
And every boskie bourne from side to side
My daylie walks and ancient neighbourhood,
And if your stray attendance be yet lodg'd
Or shroud within these limits, I shall know
12
From her thach't palate rowse, if otherwise
I can conduct you Ladie to a low
But loyall cottage, where you may be safe
Till further quest.
La.
Shepheard I take thy word,
And trust thy honest offer'd courtesie,
Which oft is sooner found in lowly sheds
With smoakie rafters, then in tapstrie halls,
And courts of Princes, where it first was nam'd,
And yet is most prætended: in a place
Lesse warranted then this, or lesse secure
I cannot be, that I should feare to change it,
Eye me blest Providence, and square my triall
To my proportion'd strength. Shepheard lead on.—
The two Brothers.
Eld bro.
Vnmuffle yee faint stars, and thou fair moon
That wontst to love the travailers benizon
Stoope thy pale visage through an amber cloud
And disinherit Chaos, that raigns here
In double night of darknesse, and of shades;
Or if your influence be quite damm'd 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 levell'd rule of streaming light
And thou shalt be our starre of Arcadie
Or Tyrian Cynosure.
2 Bro.
Or if our eyes
Be barred that happinesse, might we but heare
The folded flocks pen'd in their watled cotes,
Or sound of pastoral reed with oaten stops,
Or whistle from the Lodge, or village cock
13
T'would be some solace yet, some little chearing
In this close dungeon of innumerous bowes.
But ô that haplesse virgin our lost sister
Where may she wander now, whether betake her
From the chill dew, amongst rude burs and thistles?
Perhaps some cold banke is her boulster now
Or 'gainst the rugged barke of some broad Elme
Leans her unpillow'd head fraught with sad fears.
What if in wild amazement, and affright
Or while we speake within the direfull graspe
Of Savage hunger, or of Savage heat?
Eld: bro.
Peace brother, be not over exquisite
To cast the fashion of uncertaine evils,
For grant they be so, while they rest unknowne
What need a man forestall his date of griefe
And run to meet what he would most avoid?
Or if they be but false alarms of Feare
How bitter is such selfe-delusion?
I doe not thinke my sister so to seeke
Or so unprincipl'd in vertues book
And the sweet peace that goodnesse bosoms ever
As that the single want of light, and noise
(Not being in danger, as I trust she is rot)
Could stir the constant mood of her calme thoughts
And put them into mis-becomming plight.
Vertue could see to doe what vertue would
By her owne radiant light, though Sun and Moon
Were in the flat Sea sunck, and Wisdoms selfe
Oft seeks to sweet retired Solitude
Where with her best nurse Contemplation
She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings
14
Were all to ruffl'd, and sometimes impair'd.
He that has light within his owne cleere brest
May sit i'th center, and enjoy bright day,
But he that hides a darke soule, and foule thoughts
Benighted walks under the mid-day Sun,
Himselfe is his owne dungeon.
2. Bro.
'Tis most true
That musing meditation most affects
The Pensive secrecie of desert cell
Farre from the cheerefull haunt of men, and heards,
And sits as safe as in a Senat house
For who would rob an Hermit of his weeds
His few books, or his beades, or maple dish,
Or doe his gray hairs any violence?
But beautie like the faire Hesperian tree
Laden with blooming gold, had need the guard
Of dragon watch with uninchanted eye
To save her blossoms, and defend her fruit
From the rash hand of bold Incontinence.
You may as well spread out the unsun'd heaps
Of misers treasure by an outlaws den
And tell me it is safe, as bid me hope
Danger will winke on opportunitie
And let a single helplesse mayden passe
Vninjur'd in this wild surrounding wast.
Of night, or lonelynesse it recks me not
I feare the dred events that dog them both,
Lest some ill greeting touch attempt the person
Of our unowned sister.
Eld. Bro.
I doe not brother
Inferre, as if I thought my sisters state
15
Yet where an equall poise of hope, and feare
Does arbitrate th' event, my nature is
That I encline to hope, rather then feare
And gladly banish squint suspicion.
My sister is not so defencelesse left
As you imagine, she has a hidden strength
Which you remember not.
2. Bro.
What hidden strength
Vnlesse the strength of heav'n, if meane that?
Eld. Bro.
I meane that too, but yet a hidden strength
Which if heav'n gave it, may be term'd her owne:
'Tis chastitie, my brother, chastitie:
She that has that, is clad in compleat steele,
And like a quiver'd nymph with arrowes keene
May trace huge forrests, and unharbour'd heaths
Infamous hills, and sandie perillous wilds
Where through the sacred rays of chastitie
No savage fierce, bandite, or mountaneete
Will dare to soyle her virgin puritie
Yea there, where very desolation dwells
By grots, and caverns shag'd with horrid shades
She may passe on with unblench't majestie
Be it not done in pride, or in presumption.
Some say no evill thing that walks by night
In fog, or fire, by lake, or moorish fen
Blew meager hag, or stubborne unlayd ghost
That breaks his magicke chaines at curfeu time
No goblin, or swart Faërie of the mine
Has hurtfull power ore true virginity:
Doe yee beleeve me yet, or shall I call
Antiquity from the old schools of Greece
16
Hence had the huntresse Dian her dred bow
Faire silver-shafted Queene for ever chast
Wherewith we tam'd the brinded lionesse
And spotted mountaine pard, but set at nought
The frivolous bolt of Cupid, gods and men
Fear'd her sterne frowne, & she was queen oth' woods.
What was that snakie headed Gorgon sheild
That wise Minerva wore, unconquer'd virgin
Wherewith she freez'd her foes to congeal'd stone?
But rigid looks of Chast austeritie
And noble grace that dash't brute violence
With sudden adoration, and blancke aw.
So deare to heav'n is saintly chastitie
That when a soule is found sincerely so,
A thousand liveried angels lackie her
Driving farre off each thing of sinne, and guilt,
And in cleere dreame, and solemne vision
Tell her of things that no grosse eare can heare,
Till oft converse with heav'nly habitants
Begin to cast a beame on th' outward shape
The unpolluted temple of the mind
And turnes it by degrees to the souls essence
Till all bee made immortall; but when lust
By unchast looks, loose gestures, and foule talke
But most by leud, and lavish act of sin
Lets in defilement to the inward parts,
The soule growes clotted by contagion,
Imbodies, and imbrutes, till she quite loose
The divine propertie of her first being.
Such are those thick, and gloomie shadows damp
Oft seene in Charnell vaults, and Sepulchers
17
As loath to leave the body that it lov'd,
And link't it selfe by carnall sensualitie
To a degenerate and degraded state.
2 Bro.
How charming is divine Philosophie!
Not harsh, and crabbed as dull fools suppose,
But musicall as is Apollo's lute,
And a perpetuall feast of nectar'd sweets
Where no crude surfet raigns.
El: bro.
List, list I heare
Some farre off hallow breake the silent aire.
2 Bro.
Me thought so too, what should it be?
Eld: bro.
For certaine
Either some one like us night founder'd here,
Or else some neighbour wood man, or at worst
Some roaving robber calling to his fellows.
2 Bro.
Heav'n keepe my sister, agen agen and neere,
Best draw, and stand upon our guard.
Eld: bro.
Ile hallow,
If he be friendly he comes well, if not
Defence is a good cause, and Heav'n be for us. The attendant Spirit habited like a shepheard.
That hallow I should know, what are you, speake,
Come not too neere, you fall on iron stakes else.
Spir.
What voice is that, my yong Lord? speak agen.
2 Bro.
O brother 'tis my father Shepheard sure.
Eld: bro.
Thyrsis? whose artfull strains have oft delayd
The huddling brook to heare his madrigale,
And sweeten'd every muskrose of the dale,
How cam'st thou here good Swaine, hath any ram
Slip't from the fold, or yong kid lost his dam,
Or straggling weather the pen't flock forsook,
18
Spir.
O my lov'd masters heire, and his next joy
I came not here on such a triviall toy
As a strayd Ewe, or to pursue the stealth
Of pilfering wolfe, not all the fleecie wealth
That doth enrich these downs is worth a thought
To this my errand, and the care it brought.
But ô my virgin Ladie where is she,
How chance she is not in your companie?
Eld: bro.
To tell thee sadly shepheard, without blame
Or our neglect, wee lost her as wee came.
Spir.
Aye me unhappie then my fears are true.
Eld: bro.
What fears good Thyrsis? prethee briefly shew.
Spir.
Ile tell you, 'tis not vaine, or fabulous
(Though so esteem'd by shallow ignorance)
What the sage Poëts taught by th' heav'nly Muse
Storied of old in high immortall verse
Of dire Chimera's and inchanted Iles
And rifted rocks whose entrance leads to hell,
For such there be, but unbeliefe is blind.
(Though so esteem'd by shallow ignorance)
What the sage Poëts taught by th' heav'nly Muse
Storied of old in high immortall verse
Of dire Chimera's and inchanted Iles
And rifted rocks whose entrance leads to hell,
For such there be, but unbeliefe is blind.
Within the navill of this hideous wood
Immur'd in cypresse shades a Sorcerer dwells
Of Bacchus, and of Circe borne, great Comus,
Deepe skill'd in all his mothers witcheries,
And here to every thirstie wanderer
By slie enticement gives his banefull cup
With many murmurs mixt, whose pleasing poison
The visage quite transforms of him that drinks,
And the inglorious likenesse of a beast
Fixes instead, unmoulding reasons mintage
Character'd in the face; this have I learn't
Tending my flocks hard by i'th hilly crofts
That brow this bottome glade, whence night by night
He and his monstrous rout are heard to howle
Like stabl'd wolves, or tigers at their prey
Doing abhorred rites to Hecate
In their obscured haunts of inmost bowres.
Yet have they many baits, and guilefull spells
T'inveigle, and invite th' unwarie sense
Of them that passe unweeting by the way.
This evening late by then the chewing flocks
Had ta'ne their supper on the savourie herbe
Of Knot-grass dew-besprent, and were in fold
I sate me downe to watch upon a bank
With ivie canopied, and interwove
With flaunting hony-suckle, and began
Wrapt in a pleasing fit of melancholy
To meditate my rural minstrelsie
Till fancie had her fill, but ere a close
The wonted roare was up amidst the woods,
And filld the aire with barbarous dissonance
At which I ceas't, and listen'd them a while
Till an unusuall stop of sudden silence
Gave respit to the drowsie frighted steeds
That draw the litter of close-curtain'd sleepe.
At last a soft, and solemne breathing sound
Rose like a steame of rich distill'd Perfumes
And stole upon the aire, that even Silence
Was tooke e're she was ware, and wish't she might
Deny her nature, and be never more
Still to be so displac't. I was all eare,
And took in strains that might create a soule
Vnder the ribs of Death, but ô ere long
Too well I did perceive it was the voice
Of my most honour'd Lady your deare sister.
Amaz'd I stood, harrow'd with griefe and feare,
And ô poore haplesse nightingale thought I
How sweet thou sing'st, how neere the deadly snare!
Then downe the lawns I ran with headlong hast
Through paths, and turnings often trod by day
Till guided by mine eare I found the place
Where that dam'd wisard hid in slie disguise
(For so by certain signs I knew) had met
Alreadie, ere my best speed could prævent
The aidlesse innocent Ladie his wish't prey,
Who gently ask't if he had seene such two
Supposing him some neighbour villager;
Longer I durst not stay, but soone I guess't
Yee were the two she mean't, with that I sprung
Into swift flight till I had found you here,
But farther know I not.
Immur'd in cypresse shades a Sorcerer dwells
Of Bacchus, and of Circe borne, great Comus,
Deepe skill'd in all his mothers witcheries,
And here to every thirstie wanderer
By slie enticement gives his banefull cup
With many murmurs mixt, whose pleasing poison
The visage quite transforms of him that drinks,
And the inglorious likenesse of a beast
Fixes instead, unmoulding reasons mintage
Character'd in the face; this have I learn't
Tending my flocks hard by i'th hilly crofts
19
He and his monstrous rout are heard to howle
Like stabl'd wolves, or tigers at their prey
Doing abhorred rites to Hecate
In their obscured haunts of inmost bowres.
Yet have they many baits, and guilefull spells
T'inveigle, and invite th' unwarie sense
Of them that passe unweeting by the way.
This evening late by then the chewing flocks
Had ta'ne their supper on the savourie herbe
Of Knot-grass dew-besprent, and were in fold
I sate me downe to watch upon a bank
With ivie canopied, and interwove
With flaunting hony-suckle, and began
Wrapt in a pleasing fit of melancholy
To meditate my rural minstrelsie
Till fancie had her fill, but ere a close
The wonted roare was up amidst the woods,
And filld the aire with barbarous dissonance
At which I ceas't, and listen'd them a while
Till an unusuall stop of sudden silence
Gave respit to the drowsie frighted steeds
That draw the litter of close-curtain'd sleepe.
At last a soft, and solemne breathing sound
Rose like a steame of rich distill'd Perfumes
And stole upon the aire, that even Silence
Was tooke e're she was ware, and wish't she might
Deny her nature, and be never more
Still to be so displac't. I was all eare,
And took in strains that might create a soule
Vnder the ribs of Death, but ô ere long
Too well I did perceive it was the voice
20
Amaz'd I stood, harrow'd with griefe and feare,
And ô poore haplesse nightingale thought I
How sweet thou sing'st, how neere the deadly snare!
Then downe the lawns I ran with headlong hast
Through paths, and turnings often trod by day
Till guided by mine eare I found the place
Where that dam'd wisard hid in slie disguise
(For so by certain signs I knew) had met
Alreadie, ere my best speed could prævent
The aidlesse innocent Ladie his wish't prey,
Who gently ask't if he had seene such two
Supposing him some neighbour villager;
Longer I durst not stay, but soone I guess't
Yee were the two she mean't, with that I sprung
Into swift flight till I had found you here,
But farther know I not.
2 Bro.
O night and shades
How are yee joyn'd with hell in triple knot
Against th' unarmed weaknesse of one virgin
Alone, and helplesse! is this the confidence
You gave me brother?
Eld. bro.
Yes, and keep it still,
Leane on it safely, not a period
Shall be unsaid for me; against the threats
Of malice or of sorcerie, or that power
Which erring men call Chance, this I hold firme,
Vertue may be assail'd, but never hurt,
Surpriz'd by unjust force, but not enthrall'd,
Yea even that which mischiefe meant most harme,
Shall in the happie triall prove most glorie.
But evill on it selfe shall backe recoyle
And mixe no more with goodnesse, when at last
Gather'd like scum, and setl'd to it selfe
21
Selfe fed, and selfe consum'd, if this faile
The pillar'd firmament is rottennesse,
And earths base built on stubble. But come let's on.
Against th' opposing will and arme of heav'n
May never this just sword be lifted up,
But for that damn'd magician, let him be girt
With all the greisly legions that troope
Vnder the sootie flag of Acheron,
Harpyies and Hydra's, or all the monstrous bugs
'Twixt Africa, and Inde, Ile find him out
And force him to restore his purchase backe
Or drag him by the curles, and cleave his scalpe
Downe to the hipps.
Spir.
Alas good ventrous youth,
I love thy courage yet, and bold Emprise,
But here thy sword can doe thee little stead,
Farre other arms, and other weapons must
Be those that quell the might of hellish charms,
He with his bare wand can unthred thy joynts
And crumble all thy sinewes.
Eld. Bro.
Why prethee shepheard
How durst thou then thy selfe approach so neere
As to make this relation?
Spir.
Care and utmost shifts
How to secure the Ladie from surprisall
Brought to my mind a certaine shepheard lad
Of small regard to see to, yet well skill'd
In every vertuous plant, and healing herbe
That spreds her verdant leafe to th' morning ray,
He lov'd me well, and oft would beg me sing,
Which when I did, he on the tender grasse
22
And in requitall ope his leather'n scrip,
And shew me simples of a thousand names
Telling their strange, and vigorous faculties,
Amongst the rest a small unsightly root,
But of divine effect, he cull'd me out;
The leafe was darkish, and had prickles on it,
But in another Countrie, as he said,
Bore a bright golden flowre, but not in this soyle:
Vnknowne, and like esteem'd, and the dull swayne
Treads on it dayly with his clouted shoone,
And yet more med'cinall is it then that Moly
That Hermes once to wise Vlysses gave,
He call'd it Hæmony, and gave it me
And bad me keepe it as of soveraine use
'Gainst all inchantments, mildew blast, or damp
Or gastly furies apparition;
I purs't it up, but little reck'ning made
Till now that this extremity compell'd,
But now I find it true, for by this means
I knew the foule inchanter though disguis'd,
Enter'd the very lime twigs of his spells,
And yet came off, if you have this about you
(As I will give you when wee goe) you may
Boldly assault the necromancers hall,
Where if he be, with dauntlesse hardihood
And brandish't blade rush on him, breake his glasse,
And shed the lushious liquor on the ground
But sease his wand, though he and his curst crew
Feirce signe of battaile make, and menace high,
Or like the sons of Vulcan vomit smoake,
Yet will they soone retire, if he but shrinke
23
Thyrsis lead on apace Ile follow thee,
And some good angell beare a sheild before us.
| A Maske [Comus] | |