COMUS.
During the reigns of Elizabeth, James I., and Charles I., the mask was one of the most popular forms of dramatic entertainment. Having a function and a character peculiar to itself, it flourished side by side with the regular plays of the theatrical stage, and gave large scope to the genius of poets, composers, and scenic artists.
The mask was usually designed to grace some important occasion, in which members of the upper classes of society, or even royal personages, were concerned. When the occasion called for particularly brilliant display, and had been long foreseen, the preparations for it would involve immense outlays for costumes, theatrical machinery, for new music, and for a libretto by a play-writer of the greatest note. When the mask was purely a private one, like Arcades and Comus, it was all the fashion for the gentle youths and maidens, for gentlemen and ladies of the highest rank, to take upon themselves the parts of the drama, to rehearse them assiduously, and finally to enact them on the private stage or on the lawn in the presence of a select audience.
The mask thus differentiated itself from the stage play in that it was not given for the pecuniary behoof of a company of actors, but represented rather expenditure for the simple purpose of producing grand effects. To act in a mask was an honor, when common players were social outcasts. The mask was got up for the occasion, and was not intended to keep the boards and attract a paying public. When the august ceremonial was over, the poet had his manuscript, to increase the bulk of his works, and the composer had his score, to furnish airs that might be played and sung in drawing-rooms if they had the good fortune to be popular.
Such was the origin of the poem which Milton, in all the editions published during his lifetime, entitled simply “A Maske presented at Ludlow Castle, 1634,” but which editors since his day have agreed to name Comus.
The occasion of the poem was the coming of the Earl of Bridgewater to Ludlow Castle, to enter upon his official residence there as Lord President of Wales. The person chiefly concerned in the scenic, musical, and histrionic preparations of the mask was Milton’s esteemed friend, the most accomplished musical composer of the day, Henry Lawes. Lawes composed the music and arranged the stage business. He seems to have taken upon himself the part of the Attendant Spirit. Lawes knew to whom to apply for the all-important matter of the book, the words, or the poetry, of the piece, for he had learned to know Milton’s qualifications as a mask-poet in the fragment which we have under the name Arcades. With good music even for commonplace lyric verse, and with sprightly declamation even of conventional dialogue, the thing, as we know from modern instances, might have been carried off by gorgeous costumes and shrewdly devised scenic effects. Most of the masks of the time fell at once into oblivion. But Lawes had secured for his poet John Milton; and the consequence thereof is that the Earl of Bridgewater is now chiefly heard of because at Ludlow Castle there was enacted, in the form of a mask written by Milton, a drama which is still read and reread by every English-speaking person who reads any serious poetry, though Ludlow Castle has long been a venerable ruin.
For his plot, the poet feigned that the young children of the earl, two sons and a daughter, in coming to Ludlow, had to pass unattended through a forest, in which the boys became separated from the girl and she fell into the hands of the enchanter Comus. The Attendant Spirit appears to the youths with his magic herb, and with the further assistance of the water-nymph Sabrina, at last makes all right, and the children are restored to their parents in the midst of festive rejoicing.
The poem is dramatic, because it is acted and spoken or sung in character by its persons. It is allegorical, because it inculcates a moral, and more is meant than meets the ear. In parts it is pastoral, both because the chief personage appears in the guise of a shepherd, and because its motive largely depends on the superstitions and traditions of simple, ignorant folk. In the longer speeches, where events are narrated with some fulness, it becomes epic. Lastly, in its songs, in the octosyllables of the magician, and in the adjuration and the thanking of Sabrina, it is lyric. With iambic pentameter as the basis of the dialogue, the poet varies his measures as Shakespeare does his, and with very similar ends in view.
The name Comus Milton found ready to his hand. As a common noun, the Greek word comus signifies carousal,—wassail. In the later classic period it had become a proper name, standing for a personification of nocturnal revelry, and a god Comus was frequently depicted on vases and in mural paintings. Philostratus, in his Ikŏnes,—or Pictures,—gives an interesting description of a painting of this god. See Encyclopædia Britannica, article Comus. Ben Jonson, in his mask, Pleasure Reconciled to Virtue, played in 1619, presents a Comus as “the god of cheer, or the belly, riding in triumph, his head crowned with roses and other flowers, his hair curled.” The character and the name were the common property of mask-writers.
The great distinction of Comus is its beauty, maintained at height through a thousand lines of supremely perfect verse. Greatly dramatic it of course is not. It yields its meaning to the most cursory reading; it has no mystery. It is simply beautiful, with a sustained beauty elsewhere unparalleled.
The following letter of Sir Henry Wotton to the Author deserves to be read both for its engaging style as a piece of English prose and for its exquisite characterization of Comus. Wotton was a versatile scholar, diplomat, and courtier, seventy years old at the time of this letter, with a reputation as a kindly and appreciative literary critic. He was now residing at Eton College, where he held the office of Provost. Milton, thirty years of age, the first edition of his Comus recently published anonymously, had good cause for elation over such a testimonial from such a source.
“From the College, this 13 of April, 1638.
“Sir,
“It was a special favour when you lately bestowed upon me here the first taste of your acquaintance, though no longer than to make me know that I wanted more time to value it and to enjoy it rightly; and, in truth, if I could then have imagined your farther stay in these parts, which I understood afterwards by Mr. H., I would have been bold, in our vulgar phrase, to mend my draught (for you left me with an extreme thirst), and to have begged your conversation again, jointly with your said learned friend, over a poor meal or two, that we might have banded together some good Authors of the ancient time; among which I observed you to have been familiar.
“Since your going, you have charged me with new obligations, both for a very kind letter from you dated the 6th of this month, and for a dainty piece of entertainment which came therewith. Wherein I should much commend the tragical part, if the lyrical did not ravish me with a certain Doric delicacy in your Songs and Odes, whereunto I must plainly confess to have seen yet nothing parallel in our language: Ipsa mollities. But I must not omit to tell you that I now only owe you thanks for intimating unto me (how modestly soever) the true artificer. For the work itself I had viewed some good while before with singular delight; having received it from our common friend Mr. R., in the very close of the late R.’s Poems, printed at Oxford: whereunto it was added (as I now suppose) that the accessory might help out the principal, according to the art of Stationers, and to leave the reader con la bocca dolce.
“Now, Sir, concerning your travels; wherein I may challenge a little more privilege of discourse with you. I suppose you will not blanch Paris in your way: therefore I have been bold to trouble you with a few lines to Mr. M. B., whom you shall easily find attending the young Lord S. as his governor; and you may surely receive from him good directions for the shaping of your farther journey into Italy where he did reside, by my choice, some time for the King, after mine own recess from Venice.
“I should think that your best line will be through the whole length of France to Marseilles, and thence by sea to Genoa; whence the passage into Tuscany is as diurnal as a Gravesend barge. I hasten, as you do, to Florence or Siena, the rather to tell you a short story, from the interest you have given me in your safety.
“At Siena I was tabled in the house of one Alberto Scipioni, an old Roman courtier in dangerous times; having been steward to the Duca di Pagliano, who with all his family were strangled, save this only man that escaped by foresight of the tempest. With him I had often much chat of those affairs, into which he took pleasure to look back from his native harbour; and at my departure toward Rome (which had been the centre of his experience), I had won his confidence enough to beg his advice how I might carry myself there without offence of others or of mine own conscience. ‘Signor Arrigo mio,’ says he, ‘I pensieri stretti ed il viso sciolto will go safely over the whole world.’ Of which Delphian oracle (for so I have found it) your judgment doth need no commentary; and therefore, Sir, I will commit you, with it, to the best of all securities, God’s dear love, remaining
“Your friend, as much to command as any of longer date,
“Henry Wotton.”
Postscript.
“Sir: I have expressly sent this my footboy to prevent your departure without some acknowledgment from me of the receipt of your obliging letter; having myself through some business, I know not how, neglected the ordinary conveyance. In any part where I shall understand you fixed, I shall be glad and diligent to entertain you with home-novelties, even for some fomentation of our friendship, too soon interrupted in the cradle.”
The Latin phrase, ipsa mollities, may be translated,—it is the very perfection of delicacy. The Italian words below mean,—My dear Henry, thoughts close, face open.
[1. Before the starry threshold of Jove’s court.] The attendant spirit not only announces himself as a dweller in heaven, but he specifies his particular function among the celestials: he is doorkeeper in the house of God.
[3. insphered.] Compare [Il Penseroso 88].
[7. Confined and pestered.] Pester has its primitive meaning, to clog or encumber. In this pinfold here. Pinfold is probably not connected with the verb to pen, but is a shortened form of poundfold, and means, literally, an enclosure for stray cattle.
[10. After this mortal change:] after this life on earth, which is subject to death.
[11. Amongst the enthroned gods.] Make but two syllables of enthroned, and accent the first.
[The long sentence ending with line 11] is very loose in construction: the and in line 7 is a coördinate conjunction, but does not connect coördinate elements.
[13. To lay their just hands on that golden key.] Compare [Lycidas 110].
[16. these pure ambrosial weeds.] Ambrosial has its proper meaning,—pertaining to the immortals.
[20. by lot ’twixt high and nether Jove.] Neptune drew lots with Jupiter and Pluto. To Jupiter fell the region of the upper air, to Pluto the lower world, and to Neptune the sea. The ancient poets sometimes spoke of Jupiter and Pluto as the upper and the lower Jove.
[25. By course commits to several government:] in due order he assigns the islands to his tributaries, giving them an island apiece.
[27. But this Isle] is so large that he has to divide it.
[29.] Consider quarters to mean nothing more than divides. his blue-haired deities. The epithet is conventional, taken from the Greek poets, and probably has no special significance in this passage.
[31. A noble Peer.] This connects the poem with actual persons and announces its occasion. The noble peer is the Earl of Bridgewater, and the event which is to be celebrated is his appointment to the Vice-royalty of Wales.
[33.] The old and haughty nation are the Welsh.
[34. his fair offspring] are two sons and a daughter, who are to play the parts of the Two Brothers and the Lady in the mask.
[37. the perplexed paths of this drear wood.] Compare Par. Lost IV 176.
[41. sovran.] See [note on Hymn on the Nativity 60].
[45. in hall or bower.] Hall and bower are conventionally coupled by the poets to signify the dwellings, respectively, of the gentry and the laboring classes.
[46.] The transformation by Bacchus of the treacherous Tuscan sailors into dolphins belongs to the established myths of that god. But Milton exercises his right as a poet to add to the classic story whatever suits his purposes.
[48. After the Tuscan mariners transformed;] a Latinism, meaning, after the transformation of the Tuscan mariners.
[50. fell:] chanced to land.
For the story of [Circe], see the Odyssey X.
[58.] Understand that no such distinct character as Comus belongs to the received mythology. Milton is a myth-maker.
[59. frolic] is used as an adjective, as in [L’Allegro 18].
[60. the Celtic and Iberian fields.] The god traversed Gaul and Spain, on his way to Britain.
[61. ominous:] abounding in mysterious signs of danger.
[65. His orient liquor.] See [line 673] of this poem.
[72.] Note that only the countenance is changed.
[87. Well knows to still the wild winds.] The poem moves throughout in the realm of romance. The swain Thyrsis is in his own character a practitioner of magic.
[88. nor of less faith.] Thyrsis has just been described as a person of great skill.
[90. Likeliest:] most likely to be.
[93.] The transition from the stately mood of the Attendant Spirit’s exordium to the noisy exhilaration of Comus is marked by appropriate changes in the verse. Comus speaks in a lyric strain, and his tone is exultant. When he comes to serious business, in [line 145], he also employs blank-verse. The lyric lines, 93-144, rhyme in couplets, and vary in length, most of them having four accents, while some have five. The four-accent lines vary between seven and eight syllables, many of them dropping the initial light syllable, or anakrusis (Auftakt). These seven-syllable lines have a trochaic effect, but are to be scanned as iambic, the standard rhythm of the poem. The star that bids the shepherd fold. So Collins, in his ode To Evening,—“For when thy folding-star arising shows His paly circlet.” See also Measure for Measure IV 2 218.
[96. doth allay:] doth cool.
[97.] The epithet steep is applied to the ocean, though really it is the course of the downward-moving sun that is steep.
[99-101.] Milton uses pole, as the poets were wont to do, to mean the sky; and the passage means,—the sun, moving about the earth in his oblique course, now shines upon that part of the heavens which, when it is daylight to us, is in shadow.
[105. with rosy twine]; with twined, or wreathed, roses.
[108-109. Advice ... Age ... Severity.] For these abstract terms substitute their concretes.
[110. their grave saws.] So Hamlet I 5 100, “all saws of books.”
[116. in wavering morrice.] See M. N. Dream II 1 98; All’s Well II 2 25.
[118. the dapper elves.] Dapper is akin to the German tapfer, but with a very different connotation.
[124. Love:] the Latin Amor, the Greek Eros, and our Cupid.
[129. Dark-veiled Cotytto] was a Thracian goddess, whose worship was connected with licentious frivolity.
[133. makes one blot of all the air.] Compare [line 204] of this poem.
[135. thou ridest with Hecat’.] Hecate was a goddess of the lower world, mistress of witchcraft and the black arts.
[139. The nice Morn.] Nice is used in a disparaging sense, meaning over particular, minutely critical.
[140. From her cabined loop-hole peep.] As if morn dwelt in a cabin and clandestinely peeped from a small window.
[141. descry] must here mean reveal.
[144. In a light fantastic round.] Recall [L’Allegro 34]. Comus and his crew are now dancing.
[147. shrouds:] hiding-places. See the verb, [line 316].
[151. my wily trains.] Trains are tricks, as in Macbeth IV 3 118.
[154.] The air is spongy because it absorbs his magic dust.
[155. blear], usually applied to eyes, here refers to the effect of seeing objects with blear eyes.
[174. the loose unlettered hinds.] The hinds are farm-servants, usually with an implication of rudeness and rusticity, and they are loose because unrestrained in speech and act by considerations of propriety.
[177. amiss:] in wrong or unseemly ways.
[178. swilled] is a very contemptuous word.
[179. wassailers.] See Macbeth I 7 64. The word has an interesting etymology.
[188. the grey-hooded Even.] Milton is fond of applying the epithet gray to the evening and the dawn. See Par. Lost IV 598, [Lycidas 187].
[189. Like a sad votarist in palmer’s weed.] The votarist is one who has made a vow. In this case he goes on a pilgrimage, carrying a palm branch, and wearing the pilgrim garb.
[203. the tumult of loud mirth was rife.] As to the meaning of rife compare Sam. Ag. 866 and Par. Lost I 650.
[204. Yet nought but single darkness do I find.] The darkness is unbroken by any ray of light.
[210. may startle well, but not astound.] Astound is a strong word. See Par. Lost I 281.
[212. a strong siding champion:] a champion who sides with the virtuous mind.
[222. her silver lining.] Note Milton’s avoidance of the possessive its. In all his verse he uses its but three times.
[231. Within thy airy shell.] The airy shell in which Echo lives must be the “hollow round” of the atmosphere. Compare [Hymn on the Nativity 100-103].
[232.] The Meander is the river of Asia Minor, famous for its windings.
[233-237.] The mention of the nightingale and Narcissus in this passage suggests that it may be a reminiscence of the chorus in the Oedipus Coloneus,—“Of this land of goodly steeds, O stranger.”
[237.] Echo’s passion for the beautiful Narcissus was not requited, and she pined away till she became a mere voice, which she could not utter till she was spoken to.
[241. Daughter of the Sphere:] daughter of the air, which forms a hollow sphere about the earth.
[243. And give resounding grace to all Heaven’s harmonies:] by echoing back the music of the spheres.
[249-252.] Even darkness smiled, as if acknowledging itself agreeably caressed by the strains of the lady’s song.
[251. At every fall.] Fall, as a musical term, is “a sinking down or lowering of the note or voice; cadence” (New Eng. Dict.).
[253. the Sirens] dwelt on an island near Sicily, and by their sweet song allured mariners to destruction. See Odyssey XII.
[254. the Naiades] were nymphs attendant on Circe and the Sirens.
[257. And lap it in Elysium.] Compare [L’Allegro 136].
[257-259. Scylla and Charybdis] were dangerous rocks and whirlpools on opposite sides of the strait of Messina. They were personified as cruel sea-monsters.
[260. Yet they:] Circe and the Sirens.
[267. Unless the goddess.] Supply thou art.
[273. extreme shift:] a pressing necessity of devising some expedient.
[289. Were they of manly prime or youthful bloom?] Were they in the prime of adult manhood, or in the bloom of youth?
[277-290.] These fourteen lines are an instance of “stichomythia, or conversation in alternate lines, which was always popular on the Attic stage. This scheme of versification is used chiefly in excited discussions, where the speakers are hurried along by the eagerness of their feelings.”—Haigh, The Tragic Drama of the Greeks.
[292. An ox in traces] would now be a rare sight.
[294. a green mantling vine.] See Par. Lost IV 258.
[299. gay creatures of the element:] creatures of the air,—supernatural beings.
[301. And play i’ the plighted clouds.] Probably the poet means the plaited, or pleated, clouds, conceiving the clouds as appearing folded together. I was awe-strook. See [Hymn on the Nativity 95].
[316. Or shroud within these limits.] Shroud as a noun we saw above, [line 147].
[318. From her thatched pallet rouse.] The lark builds on the ground, seeking a spot protected by overarching stems of grass or grain, which may be called a natural thatch; and if this protection is destroyed by mowers or reapers, the bird will at once take pains to build a roof or thatch over the nest, completely covering it, and for a door will make an opening on the side.
[325. where it first was named.] The derivation of the words courteous and courtesy from court is obvious.
[327. Less warranted than this, or less secure.] The lady says that she cannot be in any place less guaranteed than this against evil, and that she cannot anywhere be less free from anxiety. Her situation she conceives to be as bad as it can be.
[329. square my trial To my proportioned strength:] make my trial proportionate to my strength.
[332. That wont’st to love.] Wont’st, in the present tense, means, as we say, art wont.
[333. Stoop thy pale visage.] Stoop is thus used, transitively, Richard II. III 1 19, “myself ... have stooped my neck.”
[334. And disinherit Chaos, that reigns here.] Chaos, “the formless void of primordial matter,” is personified by Milton here and, much more conspicuously, in Par. Lost III.
[338. a rush-candle:] a candle made with a rush for a wick,—the cheapest kind of light. from the wicker hole Of some clay habitation. Imagine a hut whose walls are made of wattled twigs plastered with clay. This clay when dry is apt to fall off in spots, leaving holes through which the light within can be seen from without. A wicker hole is a hole in the wicker-work, perhaps made intentionally, to serve as a window.
[341-342. The star of Arcady] is the constellation of the Greater Bear, and the Tyrian Cynosure that of the Lesser Bear. Stars in these constellations served as guides to Greek and Tyrian mariners.
[345. Or sound of pastoral reed with oaten stops.] Compare Collins’s Ode to Evening,—If aught of oaten stop, or pastoral song. The shepherds of the Greek idylls made their musical pipes of reeds or oat-straws, and the oat has therefore been adopted by the pastoral poetry of all ages.
[349. innumerous boughs.] Compare Par. Lost VII 455.
[358. Of savage hunger, or of savage heat:] of hungry savages, or of lustful savages.
[361. grant they be so:] grant that they are real evils.
[365.] Make four syllables of delusion.
[366. I do not think my sister so to seek:] I do not think she has her seeking, or learning, still to do: I do not think her so inexperienced.
[373-375.] Is this practical doctrine?
[377.] Make five syllables of Contemplation.
[380. Were all to-ruffled.] The particle to—Anglo Saxon tô, Modern German zer—has disappeared from Modern English. In Old English it was often used with the force of the Latin dis. So still in Chaucer, to-bete, to-cleve, to-rende, and many others.
[386. affects:] likes, has an affection for.
[390. weeds,] as in [line 84].
[393. the fair Hesperian tree.] See [line 983].
[394. had need the guard.] An elliptical expression. Need is a noun, but is treated as if it were a verb.
[395.] The dragon Ladon was not able to defend the apples of Hesperides against Hercules.
[401. will wink on Opportunity:] will fail to see its chance.
[404. it recks me not.] The verb is thus used, impersonally, also in [Lycidas 122].
[407.] The line has two hypermetric syllables, one after the third foot, and one at the end.
[413. squint suspicion.] An epithet applicable only to a physical infirmity is applied to a mental act.
[422. quivered:] bearing a quiver.
[423. unharbored:] furnishing no shelter.
[424. Infamous hills.] Accent infamous as we do now and as Milton does elsewhere. Verses thus beginning with trochees are common.
[429.] Look up the origin of the word grots.
[430. unblenched:] unstartled.
[434. Blue meagre hag.] The hag has the livid hue of hunger.
[436. swart faery of the mine.] A malignant demon dwelling under ground,—a gnome.
[441. the huntress Dian.] The powerful goddess Diana, or Artemis, twin sister of Apollo, was figured bearing a bow and arrows.
[448. wise Minerva.] Minerva, or Pallas Athene, is usually represented as wearing on her breast the ægis with a border of snakes and the Gorgon’s head in the centre.
[460-462.] Note the different modes in begin and turns, where we should look for similar constructions.
[487.] The ellipsis of we had is readily supplied. Draw and stand are infinitives.
[494. Thyrsis,] a stock shepherd-name. The spirit henceforth appears to his fellow-actors in the mask as the shepherd with whom they are familiar.
[495-512.] These lines express sudden emotion, and approximate lyric in character. Hence the rhyme.
[508. How chance she is not.] Supply the ellipsis.
[517. Chimeras] is here used vaguely in the plural to mean dangerous monsters.
[526. With many murmurs mixed.] The enchanter spoke or sang forms of incantation over his mixing and brewing. Recall Macbeth.
[529.] The word mintage has an interesting history. The human countenance is conceived as an imprint, like the characters on a coin.
[530. Charactered in the face.] The noun character Milton pronounces with accent on the first syllable, as does Shakespeare. Probably he also agrees with Shakespeare in pronouncing the verb with the accent on the second syllable, as this verse suggests.
[531. crofts.] The word is still in use in England, meaning a small farm.
[540. by then the chewing flocks:] by the time when, etc.
[547. To meditate my rural minstrelsy:] to play on my shepherd-pipe and to sing. To meditate the muse is a standard expression of the pastoral poets. See [Lycidas 66].
[552.] What do we know was the cause of this unusual stop of sudden silence?
[553-554.] The cessation of the din gave to the steeds of sleep, and to people who were trying to sleep, relief from annoyance.
[557-560.] Be sure you understand the figure.
[560. Still,] in its very frequent sense, always.
[562. Under the ribs of Death:] in a skeleton.
[575. such two;] describing them.
[586. Shall be unsaid for me:] it is not necessary for me to make any change in my opinion to make it harmonize with this new aspect of affairs.
[595. Gathered like scum, and settled to itself.] The two metaphors thus combined make a rather strange mixture.
[598. The pillared firmament.] By the firmament is usually understood the sphere of the fixed stars. How to introduce the conception of pillars is not clear.
[604. Acheron.] See Par. Lost II 578.
[605.] The Harpies were monstrous birds with women’s heads. Their doings are described Æneid III. The Hydra was a monster serpent with a hundred heads.
[607. his purchase:] his acquisition.
[610. I love thy courage yet,] though thou hast spoken most unwisely.
[611. can do thee little stead:] can avail thee but little.
[617. utmost shifts:] most carefully devised precautions.
[620. Of small regard to see to:] of very insignificant appearance.
[621.] A virtuous plant is a plant which has virtues, i.e. powers or qualities.
[624. Which when I did.] The modern English has lost the power of beginning a sentence thus, with two relatives.
[626. scrip,] a word in no way connected with script.
[627. And show me simples of a thousand names.] Compare Hamlet IV 7 145, “no cataplasm so rare, Collected from all simples that have virtue Under the moon.”
[634. Unknown and like esteemed:] neither known nor esteemed.
[635. Treads on it daily with his clouted shoon.] See 2 Henry VI. IV 2 195,—“Spare none but such as go in clouted shoon,” and Hamlet IV 5 26,—“By his cockle hat and staff, And his sandal shoon.”
[636.] The story of Hermes’ giving Ulysses the Moly read in Odyssey X. “Therewith the slayer of Argos gave me the plant that he had plucked from the ground, and he showed me the growth thereof. It was black at the root, but the flower was like to milk. Moly the gods call it, but it is hard for mortal men to dig; howbeit with the gods all things are possible.”
[638. He called it Hæmony.] Hæmony is a nonce-word of Milton’s own coining. He may have derived it from a Greek word meaning skilful or from another meaning blood.
[640. mildew blast, or damp.] Blast is defined by Dr. Murray: “A sudden infection destructive to vegetable or animal life (formerly attributed to the blowing or breath of some malignant power, foul air, etc.)”; and damp: “An exhalation, a vapor or gas, of a noxious kind.”
[641. Or ghastly Furies’ apparition:] or the appearance of terrifying ghosts.
[646. Entered the very lime-twigs of his spells.] Lime was a viscous substance, spread upon the twigs of trees and bushes to entangle the feet of birds. The figure is frequent in Shakespeare. See Hamlet III 3 68, “O limed soul, that, struggling to be free, Art more engaged.”
[657. apace:] quickly.
[In] the stage directions, [goes about] means, makes a movement.
[661. as Daphne was, Root-bound, that fled Apollo.] The great god, Apollo, pursuing the nymph Daphne, Diana saved her by transforming her into a laurel tree.
[672. this cordial julep.] Julep is a word of Persian origin, meaning rose-water. Note the poet’s skill in culling words of delicious sound.
[675. Not that Nepenthes which the wife of Thone In Egypt gave to Jove-born Helena.] See Odyssey IV: “Then Helen, daughter of Zeus, cast a drug into the wine whereof they drank, a drug to lull all pain and anger, and bring forgetfulness of every sorrow.... Medicines of such virtue and so helpful had the daughter of Zeus, which Polydamna, the wife of Thon, had given her, a woman of Egypt.”
[685. the unexempt condition:] the condition from which no one is exempt.
[695. These oughly-headed monsters.] Perhaps by this peculiar spelling, oughly, Milton meant to add to the word ugly a higher degree of ugliness.
[698. With vizored falsehood:] falsehood with its vizor, or face-piece, down, to conceal its identity.
[700. With liquorish baits.] Liquorish, now usually spelled lickerish, is allied to lecherous, and has no connection with liquor or with liquorice.
[703.] The goodness of the gift lies in the intention of the giver.
[707. those budge doctors of the stoic fur.] Budge is defined by Dr. Murray: “Solemn in demeanor, important-looking, pompous, stiff, formal.” Cowper, in his poem Conversation, has the couplet: “The solemn fop; significant and budge; A fool with judges, amongst fools a judge.” A doctor of the Stoic fur is a teacher of the Stoic philosophy, who wears a gown of the fur to which his degree of doctor entitles him.
[708. fetch their precepts from the Cynic tub:] teach doctrines learned from the Cynic Diogenes, who is reputed to have lived in a tub.
[719. hutched:] stowed or laid away, as in a chest or hutch.
[721. pulse;] conceived as the simplest kind of food.
[722. frieze;] to be pronounced freeze.
[724. and yet:] and what is yet more.
[728. Who] refers back to Nature.
[734. they below:] the people of the lower world.
[737. coy.] See [Lycidas 18]. cozened. See Merchant of Venice II 9 38.
[744. It] refers back to beauty.
[748. homely;] in the modern disparaging sense.
[750. grain:] color.
[751. To ply], or make, a sampler, as a proof of her skill with the needle, was, until very modern times, the duty of every young girl. The old samplers are now precious heirlooms in families. to tease the huswife’s wool. To tease wool, or to card it, was to use the teasle, or a card, to prepare it for spinning. Carding and spinning were common duties of the huswife and her daughters.
[753.] In what respect can tresses be said to be like the morn?
[760. when vice can bolt her arguments.] There are two verbs, spelled alike, bolt. One means to sift, and is used often of arguments and reasonings. To bolt arguments is to construct them with logical care and precision. The other bolt means to shoot forth or blurt out. We may take our choice of the two words.
[773.] How is the line to be scanned?
[780. Or have I said enow?] In the edition of Comus published in 1645 this passage reads, Or have I said enough? In the edition of 1673, the latest that he revised, Milton changed enough to enow. Grammatically, enough is the better form, as the Elizabethan usage favored enough for the form of the adjective with singular nouns and for the adverb, and enow as the adjective with plurals. It would seem that the poet must have had some motive of euphony for the change he made.
[788. thou art worthy that thou shouldst not know.] A Latinism: dignus es qui non cognoscas.
[793. the uncontrolled worth Of this pure cause:] the invincible power inherent in the cause by virtue of its nature.
[804. Speaks thunder and the chains of Erebus To some of Saturn’s crew:] pronounces sentence upon his foes, condemning them to the punishments named. Erebus—Darkness—is one of the numerous names of the lower world, the kingdom of Pluto.
[808. the canon laws:] the fundamental laws, or the Constitution. Canon law, generally speaking, is ecclesiastical law, or the law governing the church.
[817. And backward mutters of dissevering power.] The “many murmurs” with which his incantations have been mixed must be spoken backward in order to undo their effect. This backward repetition of the charm has the power to break the spell which the charm has wrought.
[822. Melibœus] is yet another of the stock names of pastoral poetry.
[823. The soothest shepherd.] The ancient adjective sooth means essentially nothing more than true.
[826. Sabrina is her name.] The story of Sabrina is told by Geoffrey of Monmouth, whose history is included in the volume of Bohn’s Antiquarian Library, entitled Six Old English Chronicles. The book is easily accessible.
[827. Whilom] is derived from the dative plural hwílum of the Old English noun hwíl, and originally meant at times.
[831.] What does Sabrina do in this line?
[835. aged Nereus] was one of the numerous Greek deities of the water. He and his wife Doris had fifty or a hundred daughters, who are called Nereids.
[838. In nectared lavers strewed with asphodel.] The nectar of the gods, which we usually think of as their drink, was also applied to other purposes, as when Thetis anoints with it the body of Patroclus, to prevent decay. Asphodel is a flower in our actual flora; but in the poets Asphodel is an immortal flower growing abundantly in the meadows of Elysium.
[840. ambrosial] here means, conferring immortality.
[845. Helping all urchin blasts;] i.e. helping the victims of the blasts against their baleful influence. See note on line 640. See Merry Wives of Windsor IV 4 49.
[851.] The word daffodil is directly derived from asphodel, with a d unaccountably prefixed. The English daffodil is the narcissus.
[858. adjuring:] charging or entreating solemnly and earnestly, as if under oath.
[868. Oceănus] is the personified Ocean, a broad, flowing stream encircling the earth.
[869. Earth-shaking] is a Homeric epithet of Neptune. The mace of Neptune must be his trident.
[870. Tethys] is wife of Oceanus and mother of the Oceanids. She reared the great goddess Juno, wife of Jupiter. Her pace is suitable to her dignity.
[871. hoary Nereus.] See [note on line 835].
[872. the Carpathian wizard’s hook.] Proteus, son of Oceanus and Tethys, herded the sea-calves of Neptune on the island of Carpathus. As a herdsman he bore a crook, or hook. He had the gift of prophecy, and so is called a wizard.
[873. Scaly Triton’s winding shell.] Triton was herald of Neptune and so carried a shell, which he was wont to wind as a horn. His body was in part covered with scales like those of a fish.
[874. The soothsaying Glaucus] was a prophet, and gave oracles at Delos. He is represented as a man whose hair and beard are dripping with water, with bristly eyebrows, his breast covered with sea-weeds, and the lower part of his body ending in the tail of a fish.
[875. By Leucothĕa’s lovely hands,]
And her son that rules the strands.
Ino, after she had slain herself and her son Melicertes, by leaping with him into the sea, became a protecting deity of mariners under the name Leucothea, or the white goddess. So she came to the aid of Ulysses when he was passing on his raft from Calypso’s isle to Phæacia. She there appears “with fair ankles,” and when she receives back from him her veil, which she had lent him, she does it with “lovely hands.”
Melicertes becomes a protecting deity of shores, under the name Palæmon. The Romans identified him with their god Portunus.
[877. By Thetis’ tinsel-slippered feet.] Thetis was the wife of Peleus, and the mother of Achilles. In Homer she has the epithet silver-footed.
[878. the songs of Sirens.] See [note on line 253].
[879. By dead Parthenope’s dear tomb.] Parthenope was one of the Sirens. At Naples her tomb was shown.
[880. And fair Ligea’s golden comb.] Ligea was probably also a siren. In Virgil, Georgics IV 336, we find a nymph of this name, spinning wool with other nymphs, “their bright locks floating over their snowy necks.” The name Ligea means shrill-voiced.
[887.] In the reading make in an adverb.
[892. My sliding chariot stays.] Compare this use of stay with that found in lines 134, 577, 820.
[893. the azurn sheen.] With azurn compare cedarn, line 990.
[908-909.] Be careful what inflection you give these lines in the reading.
[913. of precious cure:] of precious power to cure.
[921. To wait in Amphitrite’s bower.] Amphitrite was a daughter of Oceanus and Tethys. She was goddess of the sea, had the care of its creatures, and could stir up the waves in storm.
[923. Sprung of old Anchises’ line.] According to Geoffrey of Monmouth, Brutus the Trojan was the grandson of Æneas and founder of London. Anchises, in the Homeric story, is the father of Æneas. This fable plays an important part in the ancient British myth.
[924. thy brimmed waves.] A river is happiest when full to its brim.
[930.] Of what parts of speech are torrent and flood?
[933.] It is very curious that our word beryl and the German Brille come directly from the same source.
[937.] And yet this river is the English Severn!
[957.] Note the impressive effect of the five-foot line ending the scene.
The shepherds have their dance in rustic fashion. The words describing this dance are the familiar peasant words, [jig, duck, nod]. The playful tone in which the spirit calls upon the swains to give place to their betters is charming.
[964. With the mincing Dryades.] “The Dryades were nymphs of woods and trees, dwelling in groves, ravines, and wooded valleys, and were fond of making merry with Apollo, Mercury, and Pan.”
[980. I suck the liquid air:] I inhale the upper air,—the æther liquidus of the poets. So Ariel, Tempest V 1 102, “I drink the air before me.”
[981. the gardens fair Of Hesperus and his daughters three.] The number of the Hesperides and their parentage are differently given in various legends. The story of their garden in some mysterious place in the far west, where they guarded the tree that bore the golden apples, assisted by the dragon Ladon, is one of the best known in the classic mythology.
[984. Along the crisped shades and bowers.] Milton applies crisped to brooks, Par. Lost IV 237. Herrick has,—“the crisped yew,” and the American Thoreau,—“A million crisped waves.”
[985. spruce.] A very interesting account of the origin of this word is given by Skeat in his Etymological Dictionary.
[986. The Graces and the rosy-bosomed Hours.] See [note on L’Allegro 15]. “The Graces were guardians of the vernal sweetness and beauty of nature, friends and protectors of everything graceful and beautiful.” The Hours were goddesses of the seasons, daughters of Zeus and Themis. They were the door-keepers of Olympus, whose cloud-gate they open and shut: thus they preside over the weather.
[990. About the cedarn alleys:] about the pathways through cedar groves. Coleridge, in Kubla Khan, has the line, “Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover”; and Tennyson, Geraint and Enid, the line,—“And moving toward a cedarn cabinet.” So also William Barnes, in his Rural Poems, uses the expression, “stonen jugs.”
[992. Iris] is the messenger of the gods: her path is the rainbow.
[993.] Dr. Murray gives other instances of blow as a transitive verb.
[999. Adonis] was a young shepherd, the special favorite of Venus. His death was caused by a wild boar. The story is told in various forms. Observe that Milton makes him wax well of his deep wound.
[1002. the Assyrian queen.] The worship of Aphrodite (Venus) was brought into Greece from Assyria.
[1005. Holds his dear Psyche.] Psyche—the personification of the human soul—was a mortal maiden, beloved of Cupid. Venus, in her jealousy of Psyche, compelled her to pass through a long series of hardships and toils. Cupid at last succeeded in reconciling his mother and his beloved, and in having Psyche advanced to the dignity of an immortal.
[1015. Where the bowed welkin slow doth bend:] where the curvature of the vault of the sky seems less than higher up toward the zenith.
[1021. the sphery chime.] See notes, Hymn on the Nativity [48] and [125].