Minor Poems by Milton Part 6

At last a soft and solemn-breathing sound 555 Rose like a steam of rich distilled perfumes, And stole upon the air, that even Silence Was took ere she was ware, and wished she might Deny her nature, and be never more, Still to be so displaced. I was all ear, 560 And took in strains that might create a soul Under the ribs of Death. But, oh! ere long Too well I did perceive it was the voice Of my most honored Lady, your dear sister.

Amazed I stood, harrowed with grief and fear; 565 And 'O poor hapless nightingale,' thought I, 'How sweet thou sing'st, how near the deadly snare!'

Then down the lawns I ran with headlong haste, Through paths and turnings often trod by day, Till, guided by mine ear, I found the place 570 Where that d.a.m.ned wizard, hid in sly disguise (For so by certain signs I knew), had met Already, ere my best speed could prevent, The aidless innocent lady, his wished prey; Who gently asked if he had seen such two, 575 Supposing him some neighbor villager.

Longer I durst not stay, but soon I guessed Ye were the two she meant; with that I sprung Into swift flight, till I had found you here; But further know I not.

_Sec. Bro._ O night and shades, 580 How are ye joined with h.e.l.l in triple knot Against the unarmed weakness of one virgin, Alone and helpless! Is this the confidence You gave me, brother?

_Eld. Bro._ Yes, and keep it still; Lean on it safely; not a period 585 Shall be unsaid for me. Against the threats Of malice or of sorcery, or that power Which erring men call Chance, this I hold firm: Virtue may be a.s.sailed, but never hurt, Surprised by unjust force, but not enthralled; 590 Yea, even that which Mischief meant most harm Shall in the happy trial prove most glory.

But evil on itself shall back recoil, And mix no more with goodness, when at last, Gathered like sc.u.m, and settled to itself, 595 It shall be in eternal restless change Self-fed and self-consumed. If this fail, The pillared firmament is rottenness, And earth's base built on stubble. But come, let's on!

Against the opposing will and arm of Heaven 600 May never this just sword be lifted up; But for that d.a.m.ned magician, let him be girt With all the griesly legions that troop Under the sooty flag of Acheron, Harpies and Hydras, or all the monstrous forms 605 'Twixt Africa and Ind, I'll find him out, And force him to return his purchase back, Or drag him by the curls to a foul death, Cursed as his life.

_Spir._ Alas! good venturous youth, I love thy courage yet, and bold emprise; 610 But here thy sword can do thee little stead.

Far other arms and other weapons must Be those that quell the might of h.e.l.lish charms.

He with his bare wand can unthread thy joints, And crumble all thy sinews.

_Eld. Bro._ Why, prithee, Shepherd, 615 How durst thou then thyself approach so near As to make this relation?

_Spir._ Care and utmost s.h.i.+fts How to secure the Lady from surprisal Brought to my mind a certain shepherd lad, Of small regard to see to, yet well skilled 620 In every virtuous plant and healing herb That spreads her verdant leaf to the morning ray.

He loved me well, and oft would beg me sing; Which when I did, he on the tender gra.s.s Would sit, and hearken even to ecstasy, 625 And in requital ope his leathern scrip, And show me simples of a thousand names, Telling their strange and vigorous faculties.

Amongst the rest a small unsightly root, But of divine effect, he culled me out. 630 The leaf was darkish, and had p.r.i.c.kles on it, But in another country, as he said, Bore a bright golden flower, but not in this soil: Unknown, and like esteemed, and the dull swain Treads on it daily with his clouted shoon; 635 And yet more med'cinal is it than that Moly That Hermes once to wise Ulysses gave.

He called it Haemony, and gave it me, And bade me keep it as of sovran use 'Gainst all enchantments, mildew blast, or damp, 640 Or ghastly Furies' apparition.

I pursed it up, but little reckoning made, Till now that this extremity compelled.

But now I find it true; for by this means I knew the foul enchanter, though disguised, 645 Entered the very lime-twigs of his spells, And yet came off. If you have this about you (As I will give you when we go) you may Boldly a.s.sault the necromancer's hall; Where if he be, with dauntless hardihood 650 And brandished blade rush on him: break his gla.s.s, And shed the luscious liquor on the ground; But seize his wand. Though he and his curst crew Fierce sign of battle make, and menace high, Or, like the sons of Vulcan, vomit smoke, 655 Yet will they soon retire, if he but shrink.

_Eld. Bro._ Thyrsis, lead on apace; I'll follow thee; And some good angel bear a s.h.i.+eld before us!

The Scene changes to a stately palace, set out with all manner of deliciousness: soft music, tables spread with all dainties. Comus appears with his rabble, and the Lady set in an enchanted chair: to whom he offers his gla.s.s; which she puts by, and goes about to rise.

_Comus._ Nay, Lady, sit. If I but wave this wand, Your nerves are all chained up in alabaster, 660 And you a statue, or as Daphne was, Root-bound, that fled Apollo.

_Lady._ Fool, do not boast.

Thou canst not touch the freedom of my mind With all thy charms, although this corporal rind Thou hast immanacled while Heaven sees good. 665

_Comus._ Why are you vexed, Lady? why do you frown?

Here dwell no frowns, nor anger; from these gates Sorrow flies far. See, here be all the pleasures That fancy can beget on youthful thoughts, When the fresh blood grows lively, and returns 670 Brisk as the April buds in primrose season.

And first behold this cordial julep here, That flames and dances in his crystal bounds, With spirits of balm and fragrant syrups mixed.

Not that Nepenthes which the wife of Thone 675 In Egypt gave to Jove-born Helena Is of such power to stir up joy as this, To life so friendly, or so cool to thirst.

Why should you be so cruel to yourself, And to those dainty limbs, which Nature lent 680 For gentle usage and soft delicacy?

But you invert the covenants of her trust, And harshly deal, like an ill borrower, With that which you received on other terms, Scorning the unexempt condition 685 By which all mortal frailty must subsist, Refreshment after toil, ease after pain, That have been tired all day without repast, And timely rest have wanted. But, fair virgin, This will restore all soon.

_Lady._ 'Twill not, false traitor! 690 'Twill not restore the truth and honesty That thou hast banished from thy tongue with lies.

Was this the cottage and the safe abode Thou told'st me of? What grim aspects are these, These oughly-headed monsters? Mercy guard me! 695 Hence with thy brewed enchantments, foul deceiver!

Hast thou betrayed my credulous innocence With vizored falsehood and base forgery?

And wouldst thou seek again to trap me here With liquorish baits, fit to ensnare a brute? 700 Were it a draught for Juno when she banquets, I would not taste thy treasonous offer. None But such as are good men can give good things; And that which is not good is not delicious To a well-governed and wise appet.i.te. 705

_Comus._ O foolishness of men! that lend their ears To those budge doctors of the stoic fur, And fetch their precepts from the Cynic tub, Praising the lean and sallow Abstinence!

Wherefore did Nature pour her bounties forth 710 With such a full and unwithdrawing hand, Covering the earth with odors, fruits, and flocks, Thronging the seas with sp.a.w.n innumerable, But all to please and sate the curious taste?

And set to work millions of spinning worms, 715 That in their green shops weave the smooth-haired silk, To deck her sons; and, that no corner might Be vacant of her plenty, in her own loins She hutched the all-wors.h.i.+pped ore and precious gems, To store her children with. If all the world 720 Should, in a fit of temperance, feed on pulse, Drink the clear stream, and nothing wear but frieze, The All-giver would be unthanked, would be unpraised, Not half his riches known, and yet despised; And we should serve him as a grudging master, 725 As a penurious n.i.g.g.ard of his wealth, And live like Nature's b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, not her sons, Who would be quite surcharged with her own weight, And strangled with her waste fertility: The earth c.u.mbered, and the winged air darked with plumes, 730 The herds would over-mult.i.tude their lords; The sea o'erfraught would swell, and the unsought diamonds Would so emblaze the forehead of the deep, And so bestud with stars, that they below Would grow inured to light, and come at last 735 To gaze upon the sun with shameless brows.

List, Lady; be not coy, and be not cozened With that same vaunted name, Virginity.

Beauty is Nature's coin; must not be h.o.a.rded, But must be current; and the good thereof 740 Consists in mutual and partaken bliss, Unsavory in the enjoyment of itself.

If you let slip time, like a neglected rose It withers on the stalk with languished head.

Beauty is Nature's brag, and must be shown 745 In courts, at feasts, and high solemnities, Where most may wonder at the workmans.h.i.+p.

It is for homely features to keep home; They had their name thence: coa.r.s.e complexions And cheeks of sorry grain will serve to ply 750 The sampler, and to tease the huswife's wool.

What need a vermeil-tinctured lip for that, Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the morn?

There was another meaning in these gifts; Think what, and be advised; you are but young yet. 755

_Lady._ I had not thought to have unlocked my lips In this unhallowed air, but that this juggler Would think to charm my judgment, as mine eyes, Obtruding false rules pranked in reason's garb.

I hate when vice can bolt her arguments 760 And virtue has no tongue to check her pride.

Impostor! do not charge most innocent Nature, As if she would her children should be riotous With her abundance. She, good cateress, Means her provision only to the good, 765 That live according to her sober laws, And holy dictate of spare Temperance.

If every just man that now pines with want Had but a moderate and beseeming share Of that which lewdly-pampered Luxury 770 Now heaps upon some few with vast excess, Nature's full blessings would be well-dispensed In unsuperfluous even proportion, And she no whit enc.u.mbered with her store; And then the Giver would be better thanked, 775 His praise due paid: for swinish gluttony Ne'er looks to Heaven amidst his gorgeous feast, But with besotted base ingrat.i.tude Crams, and blasphemes his Feeder. Shall I go on?

Or have I said enow? To him that dares 780 Arm his profane tongue with contemptuous words Against the sun-clad power of chast.i.ty Fain would I something say;--yet to what end?

Thou hast nor ear, nor soul, to apprehend The sublime notion and high mystery 785 That must be uttered to unfold the sage And serious doctrine of Virginity; And thou art worthy that thou shouldst not know More happiness than this thy present lot.

Enjoy your dear wit, and gay rhetoric, 790 That hath so well been taught her dazzling fence; Thou art not fit to hear thyself convinced.

Yet, should I try, the uncontrolled worth Of this pure cause would kindle my rapt spirits To such a flame of sacred vehemence 795 That dumb things would be moved to sympathize, And the brute Earth would lend her nerves, and shake, Till all thy magic structures, reared so high, Were shattered into heaps o'er thy false head.

_Comus._ She fables not. I feel that I do fear 800 Her words set off by some superior power; And, though not mortal, yet a cold shuddering dew Dips me all o'er, as when the wrath of Jove Speaks thunder and the chains of Erebus To some of Saturn's crew. I must dissemble, 805 And try her yet more strongly,--Come, no more!

This is mere moral babble, and direct Against the canon laws of our foundation.

I must not suffer this; yet 'tis but the lees And settlings of a melancholy blood. 810 But this will cure all straight; one sip of this Will bathe the drooping spirits in delight Beyond the bliss of dreams. Be wise, and taste....

The Brothers rush in with swords drawn, wrest his gla.s.s out of his hand, and break it against the ground: his rout make sign of resistance, but are all driven in. The Attendant Spirit comes in.

_Spir._ What! have you let the false enchanter scape?

O ye mistook; ye should have s.n.a.t.c.hed his wand, 815 And bound him fast. Without his rod reversed, And backward mutters of dissevering power, We cannot free the Lady that sits here In stony fetters fixed and motionless.

Yet stay: be not disturbed; now I bethink me, 820 Some other means I have which may be used, Which once of Meliboeus old I learnt, The soothest shepherd that e'er piped on plains.

There is a gentle Nymph not far from hence, That with moist curb sways the smooth Severn stream: 825 Sabrina is her name: a virgin pure; Whilom she was the daughter of Locrine, That had the sceptre from his father Brute.

She, guiltless damsel, flying the mad pursuit Of her enraged stepdame, Guendolen, 830 Commended her fair innocence to the flood That stayed her flight with his cross-flowing course.

The water-nymphs, that in the bottom played, Held up their pearled wrists, and took her in, Bearing her straight to aged Nereus' hall; 835 Who, piteous of her woes, reared her lank head, And gave her to his daughters to imbathe In nectared lavers strewed with asphodel, And through the porch and inlet of each sense Dropt in ambrosial oils, till she revived, 840 And underwent a quick immortal change, Made G.o.ddess of the river. Still she retains Her maiden gentleness, and oft at eve Visits the herds along the twilight meadows, Helping all urchin blasts, and ill-luck signs 845 That the shrewd meddling elf delights to make, Which she with precious vialed liquors heals: For which the shepherds, at their festivals, Carol her goodness loud in rustic lays, And throw sweet garland wreaths into her stream 850 Of pansies, pinks, and gaudy daffodils.

And, as the old swain said, she can unlock The clasping charm, and thaw the numbing spell, If she be right invoked in warbled song; For maidenhood she loves, and will be swift 855 To aid a virgin, such as was herself, In hard-besetting need. This will I try, And add the power of some adjuring verse.

_Song._

Sabrina fair, Listen where thou art sitting 860 Under the gla.s.sy, cool, translucent wave, In twisted braids of lilies knitting The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair; Listen for dear honor's sake, G.o.ddess of the silver lake, 865 Listen and save!

Listen, and appear to us, In name of great Ocea.n.u.s, By the earth-shaking Neptune's mace, And Tethys' grave majestic pace; 870 By h.o.a.ry Nereus' wrinkled look, And the Carpathian wizard's hook; By scaly Triton's winding sh.e.l.l, And old soothsaying Glaucus' spell; By Leucothea's lovely hands, 875 And her son that rules the strands; By Thetis' tinsel-slippered feet, And the songs of Sirens sweet; By dead Parthenope's dear tomb, And fair Ligea's golden comb, 880 Wherewith she sits on diamond rocks Sleeking her soft alluring locks; By all the nymphs that nightly dance Upon thy streams with wily glance; Rise, rise, and heave thy rosy head 885 From thy coral-paven bed, And bridle in thy headlong wave, Till thou our summons answered have.

Listen and save!

Sabrina rises, attended by Water-nymphs, and sings.

By the rushy-fringed bank, 890 Where grow the willow and the osier dank, My sliding chariot stays, Thick set with agate, and the azurn sheen Of turkis blue, and emerald green, That in the channel strays: 895 Whilst from off the waters fleet Thus I set my printless feet O'er the cowslip's velvet head, That bends not as I tread.

Gentle swain, at thy request 900 I am here!

_Spir._ G.o.ddess dear, We implore thy powerful hand To undo the charmed band Of true virgin here distressed 905 Through the force and through the wile Of unblessed enchanter vile.

_Sabr._ Shepherd, 'tis my office best To help ensnared chast.i.ty.

Brightest Lady, look on me. 910 Thus I sprinkle on thy breast Drops that from my fountain pure I have kept of precious cure; Thrice upon thy finger's tip, Thrice upon thy rubied lip: 915 Next this marble venomed seat, Smeared with gums of glutinous heat, I touch with chaste palms moist and cold.

Now the spell hath lost his hold, And I must haste ere morning hour 920 To wait in Amphitrite's bower.

Sabrina descends, and the Lady rises out of her seat.