by John Milton
Would think to charm my judgement, as mine eyes,
Obtruding false rules pranked in reason’s garb.
760 I hate when vice can bolt her arguments,
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
765 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 share
770 Of that which lewdly–pampered Luxury
Now heaps upon some few with vast excess,
Nature’s full blessings would be well-dispensed
In unsuperfluous even proportion,
And she no whit encumbered with her store;
775 And then the Giver would be better thanked,
His praise due paid, for swinish gluttony
Ne’er looks to Heav’n amidst his gorgeous feast,
But with besotted base ingratitude
Crams, and blasphemes his feeder. Shall I go on?
780 Or have I said enough? To him that dares
Arm his profane 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
785 The súblime notion, and high mystery
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.
790 Enjoy your dear wit, and gay rhetoric
That hath so well been taught her dazzling fence,
Thou art not fit to hear thyself convinced;
Yet should I try, the uncontrollèd worth
Of this pure cause would kindle my rapt spirits
795 To such a flame of sacred vehemence,
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.
800 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 shuddering dew
Dips me all o’er, as when the wrath of Jove
Speaks thunder, and the chains of Erebus
805 To some of Saturn’s crew. I must dissemble,
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
810 And settlings of a melancholy blood;
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 glass 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.
Spirit. What, have you let the false enchanter ’scape?
815 O ye mistook, ye should have snatched his wand
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;
820 Yet stay, be not disturbed, now I bethink me,
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,
825 That with moist curb sways the smooth Severn stream,
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
830 Of her enragèd stepdame Guendolen,
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,
835 Bearing her straight to agèd Nereus’ hall,
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
840 Dropped in ambrosial oils till she revived,
And underwent a quick immortal change
Made goddess of the river; still she retains
Her maiden gentleness, and oft at eve
Visits the herds along the twilight meadows,
845 Helping all urchin blasts, and ill–luck signs
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,
850 And throw sweet garland wreaths into her stream
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,
855 For maidenhood she loves, and will be swift
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,
860 Listen where thou art sitting
Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave,
In twisted braids of lilies knitting
The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair;
Listen for dear honour’s sake,
865 Goddess of the silver lake,
Listen and save.
Listen and appear to us
In name of great Oceanus,
By th’ earth-shaking Neptune’s mace,
870 And Tethys’ grave majestic pace,
By hoary Nereus’ wrinkled look,
And the Carpathian wizard’s hook,
By scaly Triton’s winding shell,
And old sooth-saying Glaucus’ spell,
875 By Leucothea’s lovely hands,
And her son that rules the strands,
By Thetis’ tinsel-slippered feet,
And the songs of Sirens sweet,
By dead Parthenope’s dear tomb,
880 And fair Ligea’s golden comb,
Wherewith she sits on diamond rocks
Sleeking her soft alluring locks,
By all the nymphs that nightly dance
Upon thy streams with wily glance,
885 Rise, rise, and heave thy rosy head
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,
890 By the rushy-fringèd bank,
Where grows the willow and the osier dank,
My sliding chariot stays,
Thick set with agate, and the azurn sheen
Of turkis blue, and emerald green
895 That in the channel strays,
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;
900 Gentle swain at thy request
I am here.
Spirit. Goddess dear
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sp; We implore thy powerful hand
To undo the charmèd band
905 Of true virgin here distressed,
Through the force, and through the wile
Of unblest enchanter vile.
Sabrina. Shepherd ’tis my office best
To help ensnarèd chastity;
910 Brightest Lady look on me,
Thus I sprinkle on thy breast
Drops that from my fountain pure,
I have kept of precious cure;
Thrice upon thy finger’s tip,
915 Thrice upon thy rubied lip,
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;
920 And I must haste ere morning hour
To wait in Amphitrite’s bower.
Sabrina descends, and the Lady rises out of her seat.
Spirit. Virgin, daughter of Locrine
Sprung of old Anchises’ line,
May thy brimmèd waves for this
925 Their full tribute never miss
From a thousand petty rills,
That tumble down the snowy hills:
Summer drought, or singèd air
Never scorch thy tresses fair,
930 Nor wet October’s torrent flood
Thy molten crystal fill with mud,
May thy billows roll ashore
The beryl, and the golden ore;
May thy lofty head be crowned
935 With many a tower and terrace round,
And here and there thy banks upon
With groves of myrrh, and cinnamon.
Come Lady while Heaven lends us grace,
Let us fly this cursèd place,
940 Lest the sorcerer us entice
With some other new device.
Not a waste, or needless sound
Till we come to holier ground;
I shall be your faithful guide
945 Through this gloomy covert wide,
And not many furlongs thence
Is your father’s residence,
Where this night are met in state
Many a friend to gratulate
950 His wished presence, and beside
All the swains that there abide,
With jigs, and rural dance resort,
We shall catch them at their sport,
And our sudden coming there
955 Will double all their mirth and cheer;
Come let us haste, the stars grow high,
But Night sits monarch yet in the mid sky.
The scene changes presenting Ludlow Town and the President’s Castle, then come in country dancers, after them the Attendant Spirit, with the two Brothers and the Lady.
Song
Spirit. Back shepherds, back, enough your play,
Till next sunshine holiday,
960 Here be without duck or nod
Other trippings to be trod
Of lighter toes, and such court guise
As Mercury did first devise
With the mincing Dryades
965 On the lawns, and on the leas.
This second song presents them to their father and mother.
Noble Lord, and Lady bright,
I have brought ye new delight,
Here behold so goodly grown
Three fair branches of your own;
970 Heav’n hath timely tried their youth,
Their faith, their patience, and their truth.
And sent them here through hard assays
With a crown of deathless praise,
To triumph in victorious dance
975 O’er sensual folly, and intemperance.
The dances ended, the Spirit epiloguizes.
Spirit. To the Ocean now I fly,
And those happy climes that lie
Where day never shuts his eye,
Up in the broad fields of the sky:
980 There I suck the liquid air
All amidst the gardens fair
Of Hesperus, and his daughters three
That sing about the golden tree:
Along the crispèd shades and bow’rs
985 Revels the spruce and jocund Spring;
The Graces, and the rosy–bosomed Hours,
Thither all their bounties bring,
That there eternal Summer dwells,
And west winds, with musky wing
990 About the cedarn alleys fling
Nard, and cassia’s balmy smells.
Iris there with humid bow,
Waters the odorous banks that blow
Flowers of more mingled hue
995 Than her purfled scarf can show,
And drenches with Elysian dew
(List mortals, if your ears be true)
Beds of hyacinth, and roses
Where young Adonis oft reposes,
1000 Waxing well of his deep wound
In slumber soft, and on the ground
Sadly sits th’ Assyrian queen;
But far above in spangled sheen
Celestial Cupid her famed son advanced,
1005 Holds his dear Psyche sweet entranced
After her wand’ring labours long,
Till free consent the gods among
Make her his eternal bride,
And from her fair unspotted side
1010 Two blissful twins are to be born,
Youth and Joy; so Jove hath sworn.
But now my task is smoothly done,
I can fly, or I can run
Quickly to the green earth’s end,
1015 Where the bowed welkin slow doth bend,
And from thence can soar as soon
To the corners of the moon.
Mortals that would follow me,
Love Virtue, she alone is free,
1020 She can teach ye how to climb
Higher than the sphery chime;
Or if Virtue feeble were,
Heav’n itself would stoop to her.
ENGLISH POEMS ADDED IN 1673
On the Death of a Fair Infant Dying of a Cough Anno aetatis 17
I
O fairest flower no sooner blown but blasted,
Soft silken primrose fading timelessly,
Summer’s chief honour if thou hadst outlasted
Bleak Winter’s force that made thy blossom dry;
5 For he being amorous on that lovely dye
That did thy cheek envermeil, thought to kiss
But killed alas, and then bewailed his fatal bliss.
II
For since grim Aquilo his charioteer
By boist’rous rape th’ Athenian damsel got,
10 He thought it touched his deity full near,
If likewise he some fair one wedded not,
Thereby to wipe away th’ infámous blot
Of long-uncoupled bed, and childless eld,
Which ’mongst the wanton gods a foul reproach was held.
III
15 So mounting up in icy-pearlèd car,
Through middle empire of the freezing air
He wandered long, till thee he spied from far;
There ended was his quest, there ceased his care.
Down he descended from his snow-soft chair,
20 But all unwares with his cold-kind embrace
Unhoused thy virgin soul from her fair biding-place.
IV
Yet art thou not inglorious in thy fate;
For so Apollo, with unweeting hand
Whilom did slay his dearly-lovèd mate
25 Young Hyacinth born on Eurotas’ strand,
Young Hyacinth the pride of Spartan land;
But then transformed him to a purple flower;
Alack that so to change thee Winter had no power.
V
Yet can I not persuade me thou art dead
30 Or that thy corse corrupts in earth’s dark womb,
Or that thy beauties lie in wormy bed,
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br /> Hid from the world in a low-delvèd tomb;
Could Heav’n for pity thee so strictly doom?
O no! for something in thy face did shine
35 Above mortality that showed thou wast divine.
VI
Resolve me then O soul most surely blest
(If so it be that thou these plaints dost hear),
Tell me bright spirit where’er thou hoverest,
Whether above that high first-moving sphere
40 Or in the Elysian fields (if such there were),
O say me true if thou wert mortal wight,
And why from us so quickly thou didst take thy flight.
VII
Wert thou some star which from the ruined roof
Of shaked Olympus by mischance didst fall;
45 Which careful Jove in Nature’s true behoof
Took up, and in fit place did reinstall?
Or did of late Earth’s sons besiege the wall
Of sheeny heav’n, and thou some goddess fled
Amongst us here below to hide thy nectared head?
VIII
50 Or wert thou that just maid who once before
Forsook the hated earth, O tell me sooth,
And cam’st again to visit us once more?
Or wert thou [Mercy] that sweet smiling youth?
Or that crowned matron, sage white-robèd Truth?
55 Or any other of that Heav’nly brood
Let down in cloudy throne to do the world some good?
IX
Or wert thou of the golden-wingèd host,
Who having clad thyself in human weed,
To earth from thy prefixèd seat didst post,
60 And after short abode fly back with speed,
As if to show what creatures Heav’n doth breed,
Thereby to set the hearts of men on fire
To scorn the sordid world, and unto Heav’n aspire?
X
But O why didst thou not stay here below
65 To bless us with thy Heav’n-loved innocence,
To slake his wrath whom sin hath made our foe,
To turn swift-rushing black perdition hence,
Or drive away the slaughtering pestilence,
To stand ’twixt us and our deservèd smart?
70 But thou canst best perform that office where thou art.
XI
Then thou the mother of so sweet a child
Her false imagined loss cease to lament,
And wisely learn to curb thy sorrows wild;
Think what a present thou to God hast sent,
75 And render him with patience what he lent;
This if thou do he will an offspring give,
That till the world’s last end shall make thy name to live.
At a Vacation Exercise in the College, part Latin,
part English
Anno aetatis 19
The Latin Speeches ended, the English thus began