The Annotated Milton: Complete English Poems (18 page)

Or ghastly Furies apparition.
⁹¹⁰

I pursed it up, but little reck’ning made,

Till now that this extremity compelled.

But now I find it true, for by this means

I knew the foul enchanter, though disguised—

Entered the very lime-twigs
⁹¹¹
of his spells

And yet came off.
⁹¹²
If you have this about you

(As I will give you when we go) you may

Boldly assault the necromancer’s hall—

Where if he be, with dauntless hardihood

And brandished blade rush on him, break his glass

And shed the luscious
⁹¹³
liquor on the ground.

But seize his wand. Though he and his cursed crew

Fierce sign of battle make, and menace high,

Or like the sons of Vulcan vomit smoke,

Yet will they soon retire,
⁹¹⁴
if he but shrink.
⁹¹⁵

BROTHER I. Thyrsis, lead on apace.
⁹¹⁶
I’ll follow thee.

And some good Angel bear a shield 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 glass, 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

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 has emmanacled, while Heav’n sees good.

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

Brisk as the April buds in primrose season.

And first behold this cordial
⁹¹⁷
julip,
⁹¹⁸
here,

That flames and dances in his crystal bounds,
⁹¹⁹

With spirits of balm and fragrant syrups mixed.

Not that nepenthes
⁹²⁰
which the wife of Thon
⁹²¹

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

For gentle usage and soft delicacy?

But you invert the cov’nants
⁹²²
of her trust,

And harshly deal like an ill borrower

With that which you received on other terms,

Scorning the unexempt
⁹²³
condition
⁹²⁴

By which all mortal frailty must subsist,

Refreshment after toil, ease after pain,

That
⁹²⁵
have been tired all day without repast,

And timely rest have wanted. But, fair virgin,

This will restore all soon.
⁹²⁶

LADY. ’Twill not, false traitor!

’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 toldst me of? What grim aspects
⁹²⁷
are these,

These ugly-headed monsters? Mercy guard me!

Hence with thy brewed enchantments, foul deceiver!

Hast thou betrayed my credulous innocence

With visored
⁹²⁸
falsehood and base forgeries

And wouldst thou seek again to trap me, here,

With liquorish baits, fit to ensnare a brute?

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 appetite.

COMUS. O foolishness of men! that lend their ears

To those budge
⁹²⁹
doctors of the stoic fur,

And fetch their precepts from the cynic tub,
⁹³⁰

Praising the lean and sallow abstinence.

Wherefore did Nature pour her bounties forth

With such a full and unwithdrawing hand,

Covering the earth with odors, fruits, and flocks,

Thronging the seas with spawn
⁹³¹
innumerable,

But all to please and sate the curious taste?

And set to work millions of spinning worms

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
⁹³²
th’ all-worshipped ore and precious gems

To store
⁹³³
her children with. If all the world

Should in a pet
⁹³⁴
of temperance feed on pulse,
⁹³⁵

Drink the clear stream, and nothing wear but frieze,
⁹³⁶

Th’ all-giver would be unthanked, would be unpraised,

Not half His riches known, and yet despised,

And we would serve Him as a grudging master,

As a penurious niggard
⁹³⁷
of His wealth,

And live like Nature’s bastards, not her sons,

Who
⁹³⁸
would be quite surcharged
⁹³⁹
with her own weight

And strangled with her waste fertility,

Th’ earth cumbered, and the winged air darked with plumes.
⁹⁴⁰

The herds would over-multitude their lords,

The sea o’er-fraught
⁹⁴¹
would swell, and th’ unsought diamonds

Would so emblaze the forehead of the deep,

And so be-stud with stars, that they below

Would grow inured to light, and come at last

To gaze upon the sun with shameless brows.

List, lady. Be not coy, and be not cozened
⁹⁴²

With that same vaunted
⁹⁴³
name, virginity.

Beauty is Nature’s coin, must not be hoarded,

But must be current,
⁹⁴⁴
and the good thereof

Consists in mutual and partaken bliss,

Unsavory in th’ 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,
⁹⁴⁵
and must be shown

In courts, at feasts, on high solemnities

Where most may wonder at the workmanship.

It is for homely
⁹⁴⁶
features to keep home:

They had their name thence. Coarse complexions
⁹⁴⁷

And cheeks of sorry
⁹⁴⁸
grain
⁹⁴⁹
will serve to ply
⁹⁵⁰

The sampler
⁹⁵¹
or to tease
⁹⁵²
the housewife’s wool.

What need a vermeil-tinctured lip for that?

Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the morn?

There was another meaning in those gifts!

Think what, and be advised.
⁹⁵³
You are but young yet.

LADY. I had not thought to have unlocked my lips

In this unhallowed air, but
⁹⁵⁴
that this juggler
⁹⁵⁵

Would think to charm my judgment as
⁹⁵⁶
mine eyes,

Obtruding
⁹⁵⁷
false rules pranked
⁹⁵⁸
in reason’s garb!

I hate when vice can bolt
⁹⁵⁹
her arguments

And virtue has no tongue to check her
⁹⁶⁰
pride.

Impostor! Do not charge
⁹⁶¹
most innocent Nature,

As if she would
⁹⁶²
her children should be riotous

With her abundance! She, good cateress,
⁹⁶³

Means her provision only to the good

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
⁹⁶⁴
share

Of that which lewdly-pampered luxury

Now heaps upon some few with vast excess,

Nature’s full blessings would be well dispensed

In unsuperfluous,
⁹⁶⁵
ev’n proportion,
⁹⁶⁶

And she no whit encumbered with her store.

And then the giver would be better thanked,

His praise due paid—for winish gluttony

N’er looks to Heav’n, amidst his gorgeous
⁹⁶⁷
feast,

But with besotted base ingratitude

Crams, and blasphemes his feeder.

Shall I go on?

Or have I said enough? To him that dares

Arm his profuse tongue with contemptuous words

Against the sun-clad power of chastity

Fain would I something say—yet to what end?

Thou hast nor ear nor soul to apprehend

The sublime notion and high mystery
⁹⁶⁸

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

That hath so well been taught her dazzling fence!
⁹⁶⁹

Thou art not fit to hear thyself convinced.

Yet should I try, the uncontrollèd worth

Of this pure cause would kindle my rapt spirits

To such a flame of sacred vehemence

That dumb things would be moved to sympathize,

And the brute earth would lend her nerves,
⁹⁷⁰
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

Her words, set off by some superior power.

And, though not mortal, yet a cold shudd’ring dew

Dips me all o’er, as when the wrath of Jove

Speaks thunder and the chains of Erebus
⁹⁷¹

To some of Saturn’s crew. I must dissemble

And try
⁹⁷²
her yet more strongly.

Come, no more.

This is mere moral babble and direct

Against the canon laws of our foundation.
⁹⁷³

I must not suffer this, yet ’tis but the lees
⁹⁷⁴

And settlings of a melancholy blood.

But this will cure all straight!
⁹⁷⁵
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 glass

out of his hand, and break it against the ground. His rout

makes sign of resistance, but all are driven in. The

attendant spirit comes in.

SPIRIT. What? Have you let the false enchanter scape?

O ye mistook, ye should have snatched his wand

And bound him fast. Without his rod reversed,

And backward mutters of dissevering
⁹⁷⁶
power,

We cannot free the lady that sits here,