OUR stedfast Bard, to his own genius true,
Still bade his Muse" fit audience find though
""
few;

Scorning the judgment of a trifling age,
page.
To choicer spirits he bequeath'd his
He too was scorn'd, and, to Britannia's shame,
She scarce for half an knew Milton's name:
age
But now, his fame by ev'ry trumpet blown,
We on his deathless trophies raise our own.
Nor art nor nature did his genius bound;
Heav'n, hell, earth, chaos, he survey'd around:
All things his eye, through wit's bright empire
thrown,

Beheld, and made what it beheld his own.

Such Milton was: 'tis ours to bring him forth, And yours to vindicate neglected worth. Such heav'n-taught numbers should be more than read,

More wide the manna through the nation spread. Like some bless'd spirit he to-night descends,

Mankind he visits, and their steps befriends; Through mazy error's dark perplexing wood Points out the path of true and real good, Warns erring youth, and guards the spotless maid

From spell of magic vice, by reason's aid.

Attend the strains; and should some meaner

phrase

Hang on the style and clog the nobler lays,
Excuse what we with trembling hand supply,
To give his beauties to the public eye:

His the pure essence, ours the grosser mean
Through which his spirit is in action seen.
Observe the force, observe the flame divine
That glows, breathes, acts, in each harmonious
line.

Great objects only, strike the gen'rous heart;
Praise the sublime, o'erlook the mortal part:
Be there your judgment, here your candour shewn ;
Small is our portion-and we wish 'twere none.

SCENE I-Dicovers a wild Wood.

The first Attendant Spirit 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 pinfold here
Strive to keep up a frail and fev'rish being,
Unmindful of the crown that virtue gives,
After this mortal change, to her true servants
Amongst the enthroned gods on sainted seats.
Yet some there are 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.
But whence yon slanting stream of purer light
Which streaks the midnight gloom, and hither
darts

Its beamy point? Some messenger from Jove
Commission'd to direct or share my charge,
And, if I ken him right, a spirit pure
As treads the spangled pavement of the sky,
The gentle Philadel: but swift as thought
He comes

The second Attendant Spirit descends.
Declare on what strange errand bent
Thou visitest this clime to me assign'd,
So far remote from thy appointed sphere,

2 Spi. On no appointed task thou seest me

now;

But, as returning from Elysian bow'rs
Whither from mortal coil a soul I wafted,
Along this boundless sea of waving air

I steer'd my flight, betwixt the gloomy shade
Of these thick boughs thy radiant form I spy'd,
Gliding as streams the moon through lusky
clouds;

Instant I stoop'd my wing, and downward sped
To learn thy errand, and with thine to join
My kindred aid, from mortals ne'er withheld
When virtue on the brink of peril stands.

1 Spi. Then mark th' occasion that demands
it here.

Neptune, I need not tell, besides the sway
Of ev'ry 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 sev'ral 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 track that fronts the falling sun
A noble peer of mickle trust and pow'r
Has in his charge, with temper'd awe to guide
An old and haughty nation proud in arms.

2 Spi. Does any danger threat his legal sway From bold sedition or close-ambush'd treason? 1 Spi. No danger thence; but to his lofty

seat,

Which borders on the verge of this wild vale,
His blooming offspring, nurs'd in princely lore,
Are coming to attend their father's state
And new-entrusted sceptre, and their way
Lies through the perplex'd path 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 soy'reign Jowe
I was dispatch'd for their defence and guard.
2 Spi. What peril can their innocence assail
Within these lonely and unpeopled shades?
1 Spi. Attend my words. No place but har-
bours danger;

In ev'ry region virtue finds a foe.
Bacchus, that first from out the purple grape
Crushed 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 grov'ling 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.

2 Spi. Ill-omen'd birth to Virtue and her sons! 1 Spi. He, 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 imbower'd
Excels his mother at her mighty art,
Off'ring to every weary traveller
His orient liquor in a crystal glass

To quench the drought 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 tiger, hog or bearded goat,
All other parts remaining as they were:

Yet, when he walks his tempting rounds, the

sorcerer

By magic power their human face restores
And outward beauty, to delude the sight.

2 Spi. Lose they the memory of their former state?

1 Spi. No, 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.

2 Spi. Degrading fall! from such a dire dis

tress

What pain too great our mortal charge to save?
1 Spi. For this, when any favour'd of high Jove
Chances to pass through this advent❜rous glade,
Swift as the sparkle of a glancing star

I shoot from heaven to give him safe convoy,
As now I do; and opportune thou com'st
To share an office which thy nature loves.
This be our task; 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-ditty'd 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. Veil'd in such disguise
Be it my care the sever'd youths to guide
To their distress'd and lonely sister; thine
To cheer her footsteps through the magic wood.
Whatever blessed spirit hovers near,
On errands bent to wand'ring mortal good,
If need require, him summon to thy side;
Unseen of mortal eye such thoughts inspire,
Such heaven-born confidence, as need demands
In hour of trial.

2 Spi. Swift as winged winds

To my glad charge I йy.

1 Spi. -I'll wait a while

[Erit.

To watch the sorcerer, for I hear the tread
Of hateful steps: I must be viewless now.

COMUS enters, with a charming rod in one hand, his glass in the other; with him a rout of Men and Women dressed as Bacchanals; they come in, making a riotous and unruly noise, with torches in their hands.

Comus. [Speaks.] The star that bids the shop-
herd 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 tow'rd the other goal
Of his chamber in the east ;
Mean-while welcome joy and feast.

SONG.

Now Phabus sinketh in the west, Welcome song and welcome jest,

SONG. By a Woman.

By dimpled brook and fountain brim
The Wood-nymphs, deck'd with daisies trim,
Their merry wakes and pastimes keep ;
What has night to do with sleep?

Night has better sweets to prove;
Venus now wakes and wakens love;
Come, let us our rites begin;

'Tis only day-light that makes sin.

Comus. Hail, goddess of nocturnal sport, Dark-veil'd Cotytto! to whom the secret flame Of midnight torches burns. Mysterious dame! That ne'er art call'd but when the dragon-womb Of Stygian darkness spits her thickest gloom, And makes one blot of all the air,

Stay thy cloudy ebon chair,

Wherein thou rid'st with Hecat', and befriend
Us thy vow'd priests, till utmost end

Of all thy dues be done, and none left out;
Ere the blabbing eastern scout,
The nice Morn, on th' Indian steep
From her cabin loop-hole peep,
And to the tell-tale Sun descry
Our conceal'd solemnity.

SONG. By COMUS and Woman.
From tyrant laws and customs free,
We follow sweet variety;

By turns we drink, and dance, and sing,
Love for ever on the wing.

Why should niggard rules control
Transports of the jovial soul?
No dull stinting hour we van,
Pleasure counts our time alone.

Lady. Nay, gentle shepherd! ill is lost that praise

That is address'd to unattending ears:
Not any boast of skill, but extreme shift
How to regain my sever'd company,
Compell'd me to awake the courteous Echo
To give me answer from her mossy couch.
Com. What chance, good lady, hath bereft you
thus?

Lady. Dim darkness, and this leafy labyrinth. Com. Could that divide you from near-ush'ring guides?

Lady. They left me weary on a grassy turf.
Com. By falsehood or discourtesy, or why?
Lady. To seek i' th' valley some cool friendly
spring.

Com. And left your fair side all unguarded,
Lady!

Lady. They were but twain, and purpos'd quick

In his loose traces from the furrow came,
And the swink't 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,
I took it for a fairy vision

Of some gay creatures of the element,
That in the colours of the rainbow live,
And play i' th' plighted clouds. I was awe-struck,
And as I pass'd I worshipp'd: if those you seek,
It were a journey like the path to heav'n
To help you find them.

Lady. To find out that, good Shepherd, I sup

pose,

In such a scant allowance of star-light,
Would overtask the best land pilot's art,
Without the sure guess of well practis'd feet.
Com. I know each lane and ev'ry alley green,
Dingle or bushy dell, of this wide wood,
And ev'ry bosky bourn from side to side,
My daily walks and ancient neighbourhood;
And if your stray attendants be yet lodg'd,
Or shroud within these limits, I shall know
Ere morrow wake, or the low-roosted lark
From her thatch'd pallat rouse: if otherwise,
I can conduct you, Lady, to a low
But loyal cottage, where you may be safe
Till farther quest.

Lady. Shepherd, I take thy word,
And trust thy honest offer'd courtesy,
Which oft is sooner found in lowly sheds
With smoky rafters, than in tap'stry halls
And courts of princes, where it first was nam❜d,
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, bless'd Providence, and square my trial
To my proportion'd strength!--Shepherd, lead
[Exeunt.

on.

Enter COMUS' Crew from behind the trees.

SONG. By a Man.

Fly swiftly, ye minutes! till COMUS receive
The nameless soft transports that beauty can give;
The bowl's frolick joys let him teach her to prove,
And she in return yield the raptures of love.

Without love and wine, wit and beauty are vain,
All grandeur insipid, and riches a pain,
The most splendid palace grows dark as the grave:
Love and wine give, ye Gods, or take back what
you gave.

E. Bro. Unmuffle, 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 damm'd up
With black usurping mists, some gentle taper,
Though a rush candle, from the wicker-hole
Of some clay habitation, visit us

CHORUS.

Away, away, away,
To Comus' court repair;
There night outshines the day,
There yields the melting fair.