MILTON’S COMUS

WITH
INTRODUCTION AND NOTES

BY
WILLIAM BELL, M.A.
PROFESSOR OF PHILOSOPHY AND LOGIC, GOVERNMENT COLLEGE, LAHORE

London
MACMILLAN AND CO
AND NEW YORK
1891

[All rights reserved]

First Edition, 1890.
Reprinted, 1891.

Few poems have been more variously designated than Comus. Milton himself describes it simply as “A Mask”; by others it has been criticised and estimated as a lyrical drama, a drama in the epic style, a lyric poem in the form of a play, a phantasy, an allegory, a philosophical poem, a suite of speeches or majestic soliloquies, and even a didactic poem. Such variety in the description of the poem is explained partly by its complex charm and many-sided interest, and partly by the desire to describe it from that point of view which should best reconcile its literary form with what we know of the genius and powers of its author. Those who, like Dr. Johnson, have blamed it as a drama, have admired it “as a series of lines,” or as a lyric; one writer, who has found that its characters are nothing, its sentiments tedious, its story uninteresting, has nevertheless “doubted whether there will ever be any similar poem which gives so true a conception of the capacity and the dignity of the mind by which it was produced” (Bagehot’s Literary Studies). Some who have praised it as an allegory see in it a satire on the evils both of the Church and of the State, while others regard it as alluding to the vices of the Court alone. Some have found its lyrical parts the best, while others, charmed with its “divine philosophy,” have commended those deep conceits which place it alongside of the Faerie Queen, as shadowing forth an episode in the education of a noble soul and as a poet’s lesson against intemperance and impurity. But no one can refuse to admit that, more than any other of Milton’s shorter poems, it gives us an insight into the peculiar genius and character of its author: it was, in the opinion of Hallam, “sufficient to convince any one of taste and feeling that a great poet had arisen in England, and one partly formed in a different school from his contemporaries.” It is true that in the early poems we do not find the whole of Milton, for he had yet to pass through many years of trouble and controversy; but Comus, in a special degree, reveals or foreshadows much of the Milton of Paradise Lost. Whether we regard its place in Milton’s life, in the series of his works, or in English literature as a whole, the poem is full of significance: it is worth while, therefore, to consider how its form was determined by the external circumstances and previous training of the poet; by his favourite studies in poetry, philosophy, history, and music; and by his noble theory of life in general, and of a poet’s life in particular.

The mask was represented at Ludlow Castle on September 29th, 1634; it was probably composed early in that year. It belongs, therefore, to that group of poems (L’Allegro, Il Penseroso, Arcades, Comus, and Lycidas) written by Milton while living in his father’s house at Horton, near Windsor, after having left the University of Cambridge in July, 1632. As he was born in 1608, he would be twenty-five years of age when this poem was composed. During his stay at Horton (1632-39), which was broken only by a journey to Italy in 1638-9, he was chiefly occupied with the study of the Greek, Roman, Italian, and English literatures, each of which has left its impress on Comus. He read widely and carefully, and it has been said that his great and original imagination was almost entirely nourished, or at least stimulated, by books: his residence at Horton was, accordingly, pre-eminently what he intended it to be, and what his father wisely and gladly permitted it to be—a time of preparation and ripening for the work to which he had dedicated himself. We are reminded of his own words in Comus:

We find in Comus abundant reminiscences of Milton’s study of the literature of antiquity. “It would not be too much to say that the literature of antiquity was to Milton’s genius what soil and light are to a plant. It nourished, it coloured, it developed it. It determined not merely his character as an artist, but it exercised an influence on his intellect and temper scarcely less powerful than hereditary instincts and contemporary history. It at once animated and chastened his imagination; it modified his fancy; it furnished him with his models. On it his taste was formed; on it his style was moulded. From it his diction and his method derived their peculiarities. It transformed what would in all probability have been the mere counterpart of Caedmon’s Paraphrase or Langland’s Vision into Paradise Lost; and what would have been the mere counterpart of Corydon’s Doleful Knell and the satire of the Three Estates, into Lycidas and Comus.” (Quarterly Review, No. 326.)

But Milton has also told us that Spenser was his master, and the full charm of Comus cannot be realised without reference to the artistic and philosophical spirit of the author of the Faerie Queene. Both poems deal with the war between the body and the soul—between the lower and the higher nature. In an essay on ‘Spenser as a philosophic poet,’ De Vere says: “The perils and degradations of an animalised life are shown under the allegory of Sir Guyon’s sea voyage with its successive storms and whirlpools, its ‘rock of Reproach’ strewn with wrecks and dead men’s bones, its ‘wandering islands,’ its ‘quicksands of Unthriftihead,’ its ‘whirlepoole of Decay,’ its ‘sea-monsters,’ and lastly, its ‘bower of Bliss,’ and the doom which overtakes it, together with the deliverance of Acrasia’s victims, transformed by that witch’s spells into beasts. Still more powerful is the allegory of worldly ambition, illustrated under the name of ‘the cave of Mammon.’ The Legend of Holiness delineates with not less insight those enemies which wage war upon the spiritual life.” All this Milton had studied in the Faerie Queene, and had understood it; and, like Sir Guyon, he felt himself to be a knight enrolled under the banner of Parity and Self-Control. So that, in Comus, we find the sovereign value of Temperance or Self-Regulation—what the Greeks called σωφροσύνη—set forth no less clearly than in Spenser’s poem: in Milton’s mask it becomes almost identical with Virtue itself. The enchantments of Acrasia in her Bower of Bliss become the spells of Comus; the armour of Belphoebe becomes the “complete steel” of Chastity; while the supremacy of Conscience, the bounty of Nature and man’s ingratitude, the unloveliness of Mammon and of Excess, the blossom of Courtesy oft found on lowly stalk, and the final triumph of Virtue through striving and temptation, all are dwelt upon.

so speaks Spenser; and Milton similarly—

In endeavouring still further to trace, by means of verbal or structural resemblances, the sources from which Milton drew his materials for Comus, critics have referred to Peele’s Old Wives’ Tale (1595); to Fletcher’s pastoral, The Faithful Shepherdess, of which Charles Lamb has said that if all its parts ‘had been in unison with its many innocent scenes and sweet lyric intermixtures, it had been a poem fit to vie with Comus or the Arcadia, to have been put into the hands of boys and virgins, to have made matter for young dreams, like the loves of Hermia and Lysander’; to Ben Jonson’s mask of Pleasure reconciled to Virtue (1619), in which Comus is “the god of cheer, or the Belly”; and to the Comus of Erycius Puteanus (Henri du Puy), Professor of Eloquence at Louvain. It is true that Fletcher’s pastoral was being acted in London about the time Milton was writing his Comus, that the poem by the Dutch Professor was republished at Oxford in 1634, and that resemblances are evident between Milton’s poem and those named. But Professor Masson does well in warning us that “infinitely too much has been made of such coincidences. After all of them, even the most ideal and poetical, the feeling in reading Comus is that all here is different, all peculiar.” Whatever Milton borrowed, he borrowed, as he says himself, in order to better it.

It is interesting to consider the mutual relations of the poems written by Milton at Horton. Everything that Milton wrote is Miltonic; he had what has been called the power of transforming everything into himself, and these poems are, accordingly, evidences of the development of Milton’s opinions and of his secret purpose. It has been said that L’Allegro and Il Penseroso are to be regarded as “the pleadings, the decision on which is in Comus”—L’Allegro representing the Cavalier, and Il Penseroso the Puritan element. This is true only in a limited sense. It is true that the Puritan element in the Horton series of poems becomes more patent as we pass from the two lyrics to the mask of Comus, and from Comus to the elegy of Lycidas, just as, in the corresponding periods of time, the evils connected with the reign of Charles I. and with Laud’s crusade against Puritanism were becoming more pronounced. But we can hardly regard Milton as having expressed any new decision in Comus: the decision is already made when “vain deluding Joys” are banished in Il Penseroso, and “loathed Melancholy” in L’Allegro. The mask is an expansion and exaltation of the delights of the contemplative man, but there is still a place for the “unreproved pleasures” of the cheerful man. Unless it were so, Comus could not have been written; there would have been no “sunshine holiday” for the rustics and no “victorious dance” for the gentle lady and her brothers. But in Comus we realise the mutual relation of L’Allegro and Il Penseroso; we see their application to the joys and sorrows of the actual life of individuals; we observe human nature in contact with the “hard assays” of life. And, subsequently, in Lycidas we are made to realise that this human nature is Milton’s own, and to understand how it was that his Puritanism which, three years before, had permitted him to write a cavalier mask, should, three years after, lead him from the fresh fields of poetry into the barren plains of controversial prose.

The Mask was a favourite form of entertainment in England in Milton’s youth, and had been so from the time of Henry VIII., in whose reign elaborate masked shows, introduced from Italy, first became popular. But they seem to have found their way into England, in a crude form, even earlier; and we read of court disguisings in the reign of Edward III. It is usually said that the Mask derives its name from the fact that the actors wore masks, and in Hall’s Chronicle we read that, in 1512, “on the day of Epiphany at night, the king, with eleven others, was disguised after the manner of Italy, called a Mask, a thing not seen before in England; they were appareled in garments long and broad, wrought all with gold, with visors and caps of gold.” The truth, however, seems to be that the use of a visor was not essential in such entertainments, which, from the first, were called ‘masks,’ the word ‘masker’ being used sometimes of the players, and sometimes of their disguises. The word has come to us, through the French form masque, cognate with Spanish mascarada, a masquerade or assembly of maskers, otherwise called a mummery. Up to the time of Henry VIII. these entertainments were of the nature of dumb-show or tableaux vivants, and delighted the spectators chiefly by the splendour of the costumes and machinery employed in their representation; but, afterwards, the chief actors spoke their parts, singing and dancing were introduced, and the composition of masks for royal and other courtly patrons became an occupation worthy of a poet. They were frequently combined with other forms of amusement, all of which were, in the case of the Court, placed under the management of a Master of Revels, whose official title was Magister Jocorum, Revellorum et Mascorum; in the first printed English tragedy, Gorboduc (1565), each act opens with what is called a dumb-show or mask. But the more elaborate form of the Mask soon grew to be an entertainment complete in itself, and the demand for such became so great in the time of James I. and Charles I. that the history of these reigns might almost be traced in the succession of masks then written. Ben Jonson, who thoroughly established the Mask in English literature, wrote many Court Masks, and made them a vehicle less for the display of ‘painting and carpentry’ than for the expression of the intellectual and social life of his time. His masks are excelled only by Comus, and possess in a high degree that ‘Doric delicacy’ in their songs and odes which Sir Henry Wotton found so ravishing in Milton’s mask. Jonson, in his lifetime, declared that, next himself, only Fletcher and Chapman could write a mask; and apart from the compositions of these writers and of William Browne (Inner Temple Masque), there are few specimens worthy to be named along with Jonson’s until we come to Milton’s Arcades. Other mask-writers were Middleton, Dekker, Shirley, Carew, and Davenant; and it is interesting to note that in Carew’s Coelum Brittanicum (1633-4), for which Lawes composed the music, the two boys who afterwards acted in Comus had juvenile parts. It has been pointed out that the popularity of the Mask in Milton’s youth received a stimulus from the Puritan hatred of the theatre which found expression at that time, and drove non-Puritans to welcome the Mask as a protest against that spirit which saw nothing but evil in every form of dramatic entertainment. Milton, who enjoyed the theatre—both “Jonson’s learned sock” and what “ennobled hath the buskined stage”—was led, through his friendship with the musician Lawes, to compose a mask to celebrate the entry of the Earl of Bridgewater upon his office of “Lord President of the Council in the Principality of Wales and the Marches of the same.” He had already written, also at the request of Lawes, a mask, or portion of a mask, called Arcades, and the success of this may have stimulated him to higher effort. The result was Comus, in which the Mask reached its highest level, and after which it practically faded out of our literature.

Milton’s two masks, Arcades and Comus, were written for members of the same noble family, the former in honour of the Countess Dowager of Derby, and the latter in honour of John, first Earl of Bridgewater, who was both her stepson and son-in-law. This two-fold relation arose from the fact that the Earl was the son of Viscount Brackley, the Countess’s second husband, and had himself married Lady Frances Stanley, a daughter of the Countess by her first husband, the fifth Earl of Derby. Amongst the children of the Earl of Bridgewater were three who took important parts in the representation of Comus—Alice, the youngest daughter, then about fourteen years of age, who appeared as The Lady; John, Viscount Brackley, who took the part of the Elder Brother, and Thomas Egerton, who appeared as the Second Brother. We do not know who acted the parts of Comus and Sabrina, but the part of the Attendant Spirit was taken by Henry Lawes, “gentleman of the Chapel Royal, and one of His Majesty’s private musicians.” The Earl’s children were his pupils, and the mask was naturally produced under his direction. Milton’s friendship with Lawes is shown by the sonnet which the poet addressed to the musician:

We must remember also that it was to Lawes that Milton’s Comus owed its first publication, and, as we see from the dedication prefixed to the text, that he was justly proud of his share in its first representation.

Such were the persons who appeared in Milton’s mask; they are few in number, and the plan of the piece is correspondingly simple. There are three scenes which may be briefly characterised thus:

In the first scene, after a kind of prologue (lines 1-92), the interest rises as we are introduced first to Comus and his rout, then to the Lady alone and “night-foundered,” and finally to Comus and the Lady in company. At the same time the nature of the Lady’s trial and her subsequent victory are foreshadowed in a conversation between the brothers and the attendant Spirit. This is one of the more Miltonic parts of the mask: in the philosophical reasoning of the elder brother, as opposed to the matter-of-fact arguments of the younger, we trace the young poet fresh from the study of the divine volume of Plato, and filled with a noble trust in God. In the second scene we breathe the unhallowed air of the abode of the wily tempter, who endeavours, “under fair pretence of friendly ends,” to wind himself into the pure heart of the Lady. But his “gay rhetoric” is futile against the “sun-clad power of chastity”; and he is driven off the scene by the two brothers, who are led and instructed by the Spirit disguised as the shepherd Thyrsis. But the Lady, having been lured into the haunt of impurity, is left spell-bound, and appeal is made to the pure nymph Sabrina, who is “swift to aid a virgin, such as was herself, in hard-besetting need.” It is in the contention between Comus and the Lady in this scene that the interest of the mask may be said to culminate, for here its purpose stands revealed: “it is a song to Temperance as the ground of Freedom, to temperance as the guard of all the virtues, to beauty as secured by temperance, and its central point and climax is in the pleading of these motives by the Lady against their opposites in the mouth of the Lord of sensual Revel.” Milton: Classical Writers. In the third scene the Lady Alice and her brothers are presented by the Spirit to their noble father and mother as triumphing “in victorious dance o’er sensual folly and intemperance.” The Spirit then speaks the epilogue, calling upon mortals who love true freedom to strive after virtue:

The last couplet Milton afterwards, on his Italian journey, entered in an album belonging to an Italian named Cerdogni, and underneath it the words, Coelum non animum muto dum trans mare curro, and his signature, Joannes Miltonius, Anglus. The juxtaposition of these verses is significant: though he had left his own land Milton had not become what, fifty or sixty years before, Roger Ascham had condemned as an “Italianated Englishman.” He was one of those “worthy Gentlemen of England, whom all the Siren tongues of Italy could never untwine from the mast of God’s word; nor no enchantment of vanity overturn them from the fear of God and love of honesty” (Ascham’s Scholemaster). And one might almost infer that Milton, in his account of the sovereign plant Haemony which was to foil the wiles of Comus, had remembered not only Homer’s description of the root Moly “that Hermes once to wise Ulysses gave,”16:A but also Ascham’s remarks thereupon: “The true medicine against the enchantments of Circe, the vanity of licentious pleasure, the enticements of all sin, is, in Homer, the herb Moly, with the black root and white flower, sour at first, but sweet in the end; which Hesiod termeth the study of Virtue, hard and irksome in the beginning, but in the end easy and pleasant. And that which is most to be marvelled at, the divine poet Homer saith plainly that this medicine against sin and vanity is not found out by man, but given and taught by God.” Milton’s Comus, like his last great poems, is a poetical expression of the same belief. “His poetical works, the outcome of his inner life, his life of artistic contemplation, are,” in the words of Prof. Dowden, “various renderings of one dominant idea—that the struggle for mastery between good and evil is the prime fact of life; and that a final victory of the righteous cause is assured by the existence of a divine order of the universe, which Milton knew by the name of ‘Providence.’”

A MASK

PRESENTED AT LUDLOW CASTLE, 1634.

BEFORE

JOHN, EARL OF BRIDGEWATER,

THEN PRESIDENT OF WALES.

The Copy of a Letter written by Sir Henry Wotton to the Author upon the following Poem.

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, at a poor meal or two, that we might have banded together some good authors of the antient 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 sixth 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.19:A 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 is 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.20:A

Now, Sir, concerning your travels, wherein I may challenge a little more privilege of discourse with you; I suppose you will not blanch20:B 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 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 Scipione, 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 confidence enough to beg his advice, how I might carry myself securely there, without offence of others, or of mine own conscience. Signor Arrigo mio (says he), I pensieri stretti, ed il viso sciolto,21:A 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.21:B

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE22:A

JOHN, LORD VISCOUNT BRACKLEY,

Son and Heir-Apparent to the Earl of Bridgewater, etc.

My Lord,

This Poem, which received its first occasion of birth from yourself and others of your noble family, and much honour from your own person in the performance, now returns again to make a final Dedication of itself to you. Although not openly acknowledged by the Author, yet it is a legitimate offspring, so lovely and so much desired that the often copying of it hath tired my pen to give my several friends satisfaction, and brought me to a necessity of producing it to the public view; and now to offer it up, in all rightful devotion, to those fair hopes and rare endowments of your much-promising youth, which give a full assurance to all that know you, of a future excellence. Live, sweet Lord, to be the honour of your name, and receive this as your own, from the hands of him who hath by many favours been long obliged to your most honoured Parents, and as in this representation your attendant Thyrsis,22:B so now in all real expression,

Your faithful and most humble Servant,

H. LAWES.

THE PERSONS.

The Attendant Spirit, afterwards in the habit of Thyrsis.
Comus, with his Crew.
The Lady.
First Brother.
Second Brother.
Sabrina, the Nymph.

The Chief Persons which presented were:—

The Lord Brackley;
Mr. Thomas Egerton, his Brother;
The Lady Alice Egerton.

The first Scene discovers a wild wood.

The Attendant Spirit descends or enters.

Comus enters, with a charming-rod in one hand, his glass in the other; with him a rout of monsters, headed like sundry sorts of wild beasts, but otherwise like men and women, their apparel glistering. They come in making a riotous and unruly noise, with torches in their hands.

The Lady enters.

Song.

Enter the Two Brothers.

Enter the Attendant Spirit, habited like a shepherd.

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.

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.

Song.

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

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

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.

This second Song presents them to their Father and Mother.

The dances ended, the Spirit epiloguizes.

discovers, exhibits, displays. The usual sense of ‘discover’ is to find out or make known, but in Milton and Shakespeare the prefix dis- has often the more purely negative force of un-: hence discover = uncover, reveal. Comp.—

Attendant Spirit descends. The part of the attendant spirit was taken by Lawes (see Introduction), who, in his prologue or opening speech, explains who he is and on what errand he has been sent, hints at the plot of the whole masque, and at the same time compliments the Earl in whose honour the masque is being given (lines 30-36). In the ancient classical drama the prologue was sometimes an outline of the plot, sometimes an address to the audience, and sometimes introductory to the plot. The opening of Comus prepares the audience and also directly addresses it (line 43). For the form of the epilogue in the actual performance of the masque see note, l. 975-6.

1. starry threshold, etc. Comp. Virgil: “The sire of gods and monarch of men summons a council to the starry chamber” (sideream in sedem), Aen. x. 2.

2. mansion, abode. Trench points out that this word denotes strictly “a place of tarrying,” which might be for a longer or a shorter time: hence ‘a resting-place.’ Comp. John, xiv. 2, “In my Father’s house are many mansions”; and Il Pens. 93, “Her mansion in this fleshly nook.” The word has now lost the notion of tarrying, and is applied to a large and important dwelling-house. where, in which: the antecedent is separated from the relative, a frequent construction in Milton (comp. lines 66, 821, etc.). So in Latin, where the grammatical connection would generally be sufficiently indicated by the inflection. shapes ... spirits. An instance of the manner in which Milton endows spiritual beings with personality without making them too distinct. “Of all the poets who have introduced into their works the agency of supernatural beings Milton has succeeded best” (Macaulay). We see this in Par. Lost (e.g. ii. 666). Compare the use of the word ‘shape’ (Lat. umbra) in l. 207: also L’Alleg. 4, “horrid shapes and shrieks”; and Il Pens. 6, “fancies fond with gaudy shapes possess.” Milton’s use of the demonstrative those in this line is noteworthy; comp. “that last infirmity of noble mind,” Lyc. 71: it implies that the reference is to something well known, and that further particularisation is needless.

3. insphered. ‘Sphere,’ with its derivatives ‘sphery,’ ‘insphere,’ and ‘unsphere’ (Il Pens. 88), is used by Milton with a literal reference to the cosmical framework as a whole (see Hymn Nat. 48) or to some portion of it. In Shakespeare ‘sphere’ occurs in the wider sense of ‘the path in which anything moves,’ and it is to this metaphorical use of the word that we owe such phrases as ‘a person’s sphere of life,’ ‘sphere of action,’ etc. See also Comus, 112-4, 241-3, 1021; Arc. 62-7; Par. Lost, v. 618; where there are references to the music of the spheres.

4. mild: an attributive of the whole clause, ‘regions of calm and serene air.’ calm and serene. These are not mere synonyms: the Lat. serenus = bright or unclouded, so that the two epithets are to be respectively contrasted with ‘smoke’ and ‘stir’ (line 5); ‘calm’ being opposed to ‘stir’ and ‘serene’ to ‘smoke.’ Compare Homer’s description of the seat of the gods: “Not by wind is it shaken, nor ever wet with rain, nor doth the snow come nigh thereto, but most clear air is spread about it cloudless, and the white light floats over it,” Odyssey, vi.: comp. note, l. 977.

5. this dim spot. The Spirit describes the Earth as it appears to those immortal shapes whose presence he has just quitted.

6. There are here two attributive clauses: “which men call Earth” and “(in which) men strive,” etc. low-thoughted care; narrow-minded anxiety, care about earthly things. Comp. the form of the adjective ‘low-browed,’ L’Alleg. 8: both epithets are borrowed by Pope in his Eloisa.

7. This line is attributive to ‘men.’ pestered ... pinfold, crowded together in this cramped space, the Earth. Pester, which has no connection with pest, is a shortened form of impester, Fr. empêtrer, to shackle a horse by the foot when it is at pasture. The radical sense is that of clogging (comp. Son. xii. 1); hence of crowding; and finally of annoyance or encumbrance of any kind. ‘Pinfold’ is strictly an enclosure in which stray cattle are pounded or shut up: etymologically, the word = pind-fold, a corruption of pound-fold. Comp. impound, sheep-fold, etc.

8. frail and feverish. Comp. “life’s fitful fever” (Macbeth, iii. 2. 23). This line, like several of the adjacent ones, is alliterative.

9. crown that Virtue gives. This is Scriptural language: comp. Rev. iv. 4; 2 Tim. iv. 8, “Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness.”

10. this mortal change. In Milton’s MS. line 7 was followed by the words, ‘beyond the written date of mortal change,’ i.e. beyond, or after, man’s appointed time to die. These words were struck out, but we may suppose that the words ‘mortal change’ in line 10 have a similar meaning. Milton frequently uses ‘mortal’ in the sense of ‘liable to death,’ and hence ‘human’ as opposed to ‘divine’: the mortal change is therefore ‘the change which occurs to all human beings.’ Comp. Job, xiv. 14: “all the days of my appointed time will I wait, till my change come”: see also line 841. Prof. Masson takes it to mean ‘this mortal state of life,’ as distinguished from a future state of immortality. The Spirit uses ‘this’ as in line 8, in contrast with ‘those,’ line 2.

11. enthroned gods, etc. In allusion to Rev. iv. 4, “And upon the thrones I saw four and twenty elders sitting, arrayed in white garments; and on their heads crowns of gold.” Milton frequently speaks of the inhabitants of heaven as enthroned. The accent here falls on the first syllable of the word.

12. Yet some there be, etc.: ‘Although men are generally so exclusively occupied with the cares of this life, there are nevertheless a few who aspire,’ etc. Be is here purely indicative. This usage is frequent in Elizabethan English, and still survives in parts of England. Comp. Lines on Univ. Carrier, ii. 25, where it occurs in a similar phrase, “there be that say ’t”: also lines 519, 668. It is employed to refer to a number of persons or things, regarded as a class. by due steps, i.e. by the steps that are due or appointed: comp. ‘due feet,’ Il Pens. 155. Due, duty, and debt are all from Lat. debitus, owed.

13. their just hands. ‘Just’ belongs to the predicate: ‘to lay their just hands’ = to lay their hands with justice. golden key. Comp. Matt. xvi. 19, “I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven”; also Lyc. 111:

15. errand: comp. Par. Lost, iii. 652, “One of the seven Who in God’s presence, nearest to his throne, Stand ready at command, and are his eyes That run through all the Heavens, or down to the Earth Bear his swift errands”: also vii. 579. but for such, i.e. unless it were for such.

16. ‘I would not sully the purity of my heavenly garments with the noisome vapour of this sin-corrupted earth.’ ambrosial, heavenly; also used by Milton in the sense of ‘conferring immortality’: comp. l. 840; Par. Lost, ii. 245; iv. 219, “blooming ambrosial fruit.” ‘Ambrosial,’ like ‘amaranthus’ (Lyc. 149), is cognate with the Sanskrit amríta, undying; and is applied by Homer to the hair of the gods: similarly in Tennyson’s Oenone, 174: see also In Memoriam, lxxxvi. Ben Jonson (Neptune’s Triumph) has ‘ambrosian hands,’ i.e. hands fit for a deity. Ambrosia was the food of the gods. weeds: now used chiefly in the phrase “widow’s weeds,” i.e. mourning garment. Milton and Shakespeare use it in the general sense of garment or covering: in the lines On the Death of a Fair Infant, it is applied to the human body itself; comp. also M. N. D. ii. 1. 255, “Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in.” See also Comus, 189, 390.

18. But to my task, i.e. but I must proceed to my task: see l. 1012.

19. every ... each. It is usual to write every ... every, or each ... each, but Milton occasionally uses ‘every’ and ‘each’ together: comp. l. 311 and Lyc. 93, “every gust ... off each beaked promontory.” Every denotes each without exception, and can now only be used with reference to more than two objects; each may refer to two or more.

20. by lot, etc. When Saturn (Kronos) was dethroned, his empire of the universe was distributed amongst his three sons, Jupiter (‘high’ Jove), Neptune (the god of the Sea), and Pluto (‘nether’ or Stygian Jove). In Iliad xv. Neptune (Poseidon) says: “For three brethren are we, and sons of Kronos, whom Rhea bare ... And in three lots are all things divided, and each drew a domain of his own, and to me fell the hoary sea, to be my habitation for ever, when we shook the lots.” nether, lower: comp. the phrase ‘the upper and the nether lip,’ and the name Netherlands. Hell, the abode of Pluto, is called by Milton ‘the nether empire’ (Par. Lost, ii. 295). The form nethermost (Par. Lost, ii. 955) is, like aftermost and foremost, a double superlative.

21. sea-girt isles. Ben Jonson calls Britain a ‘sea-girt isle’: comp. l. 27. Isle is the M.E. ile, in which form the s has been dropped: it is from O.F. isle, Lat. insula. It is therefore distinct from island, where an s has, by confusion, been inserted. Island = M.E. iland, A.S. igland (ig = island: land = land). In line 50 Milton wrote ‘iland.’

22. like to rich and various gems, etc. Shakespeare describes England as a ‘precious stone set in the silver sea,’ Richard II. ii. 1. 46: he also speaks of Heaven as being inlayed with stars, Cym. v. 5. 352; M. of V. v. 1. 59, “Look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold.” Compare also Par. Lost, iv. 700, where Milton refers to the ground as having a rich inlay of flowers. But for its inlay of islands the sea would be bare or unadorned. like: here followed by the preposition to, and having its proper force as an adjective: comp. Il Pens. 9. Whether like is used as an adjective or an adverb, the preposition is now usually omitted: comp. l. 57.

24. to grace, i.e. to show favour to: a clause of purpose.

25. By course commits, etc., i.e. “In regular distribution he commits to each his distinct government.” several: separate or distinct. Radically several is from the verb sever: it is now used only with plural nouns.

26. sapphire. This colour is again associated with the sea in line 29: see note there.

27. little tridents, in contrast with that of Neptune, who, “with his trident touched the stars” (Neptune’s Triumph, Proteus’ Song, Ben Jonson).

28. greatest and the best. Comp. Shakespeare’s eulogy in Rich. II. ii. 1: also Ben Jonson’s “Albion, Prince of all his Isles,” Neptune’s Triumph, Apollo’s Song.

29. quarters, divides into distinct regions. Comp. Dryden, Georg. I. 208:

Some would take the word as strictly denoting division into four parts: “at that time the island was actually divided into four separate governments: for besides those at London and Edinburgh, there were Lords President of the North and of Wales.” (Keightley). blue-haired deities. These must be distinct from the tributary gods who wield their little tridents (line 27), otherwise the thought would ill accord with the complimentary nature of lines 30-36. Regarding the epithet ‘blue-haired’ Masson asks: “Can there be a recollection of blue as the British colour, inherited from the old times of blue-stained Britons who fought with Caesar? Green-haired is the usual epithet for Neptune and his subordinates”: in Spenser, for example, the sea-nymphs have long green hair. But Ovid expressly calls the sea-deities caerulei dii, and Neptune caeruleus deus, thus associating blue with the sea.

30. ‘And all this region that looks towards the West (i.e. Wales) is entrusted to a noble peer of great integrity and power.’ The peer referred to is the Earl of Bridgewater. As Lord President he was entrusted with the civil and military administration of Wales and the four English counties of Gloucester, Worcester, Hereford, and Shropshire. That he was a nobleman of high character is shown by the fact that from 1617, when he was nominated one of “his Majestie’s Counsellors,” he had continued to serve in various important public and private offices. On his monument there is the following: “He was a profound Scholar, an able Statesman, and a good Christian: he was a dutiful Son to his Mother the Church of England in her persecution, as well as in her great splendour; a loyal Subject to his Sovereign in those worst of times, when it was accounted treason not to be a traitor. As he lived 70 years a pattern of virtue, so he died an example of patience and piety.” falling sun: Lat. sol occidens. Orient and occident (lit. ‘rising’ and ‘falling’) are frequently used to denote the East and the West.

31. mickle (A.S. micel) great. From this word comes much. ‘Mickle’ and ‘muckle’ are current in Scotland in the sense of great. Comp. Rom. and Jul. ii. 3. 15, “O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies In herbs,” etc.

33. An old and haughty nation. The Welsh are Kelts, an Aryan people who probably first entered Britain about B.C. 500: they are therefore rightly spoken of as an old nation. Compare Ben Jonson’s piece For the Honour of Wales:

That they were haughty and ‘proud in arms’ the Romans found, and after them the Saxons: the latter never really held more than the counties of Monmouth and Hereford. In the reign of Edward I. attempts were made by that king to induce the Welsh to come to terms, but the answer of the Barons was: “We dare not submit to Edward, nor will we suffer our prince to do so, nor do homage to strangers, whose tongue, ways and laws we know not of: we have only raised war in defence of our lands, laws and rights.” By a statute of Henry VIII. this ‘haughty’ people were put in possession of the same rights and liberties as the English. proud in arms: this is Virgil’s belloque superbum, Aen. i. 21 (Warton).

34. nursed in princely lore, brought up in a manner worthy of their high position. It is to be noted that the Bridgewater family was by birth distantly connected with the royal family. Milton may allude merely to their connection with the court. Lore is cognate with learn.

35. their father’s state. This probably refers to the actual ceremonies connected with the installation of the Earl as Lord President. The old sense of ‘state’ is ‘chair of state’: comp. Arc. 81, and Jonson’s Hymenaei, “And see where Juno ... Displays her glittering state and chair.”

36. new-intrusted, an adjective compounded of a participle and a simple adverb, new being = newly; comp. ‘smooth-dittied,’ l. 86. Contrast the form of the epithet “blue-haired,” where the compound adjective is formed as if from a noun, “blue-hair”: comp. “rushy-fringed,” l. 890. Strictly speaking, the Earl’s power was not ‘new-intrusted,’ though it was newly assumed. See Introduction.

37. perplexed, interwoven, entangled (Lat. plecto, to plait or twist). The word is here used literally and is therefore applicable to inanimate objects. The accent is on the first syllable.

38. horror. This word is meant not merely to indicate terror, but also to describe the appearance of the paths. Horror is from Lat. horrere, to bristle, and may be rendered ‘shagginess’ or ‘ruggedness,’ just as horrid, l. 429, means bristling or rugged. Comp. Par. Lost, i. 563, “a horrid front Of dreadful length, and dazzling arms.” shady brows: this may refer to the trees and bushes overhanging the paths, as the brow overhangs the eyes.

39. Threats: not current as a verb. forlorn, now used only as an adjective, is the past participle of the old verb forleosen, to lose utterly: the prefix for has an intensive force, as in forswear; but in the latter word the sense of from is more fully preserved in the prefix. See note, l. 234.

40. tender age. Lady Alice Egerton was about fourteen years of age; the two brothers were younger than she.

41. But that, etc. Grammatically, but may be regarded as a subordinative conjunction = ‘unless (it had happened) that I was despatched’: or, taking it in its original prepositional sense, we may regard it as governing the substantive clause, ‘that ... guard.’ quick command: the adjective has the force of an adverb, quick commands being commands that are to be carried quickly. sovran, supreme. This is Milton’s spelling of the modern word sovereign, in which the g is due to the mistaken notion that the last syllable of the word is cognate with reign. The word is from Lat. superanum = chief: comp. l. 639.

43. And listen why; sc. ‘I was despatched.’ The language of lines 43, 44 is suggested by Horace’s Odes, iii. 1, 2: “Favete linguis; carmina non prius Audita ... canto.” The poet implies that the plot of his mask is original: it is not (he says) to be found in any ancient or modern song or tale that was ever recited either in the ‘hall’ (= banqueting-hall) or in the ‘bower’ (= private chamber). Or ‘hall’ and ‘bower’ may denote respectively the room of the lord and that of his lady.

46. Milton in his usual significant manner (comp. L’Allegro and Il Penseroso), proceeds to invent a genealogy for Comus. The mask is designed to celebrate the victory of Purity and Reason over Desire and Enchantment. Comus, who represents the latter, must therefore spring from parents representing the pleasure of man’s lower nature and the misuse of man’s higher powers on behalf of falsehood and impurity. These parents are the wine-god Bacchus and the sorceress Circe. The former, mated with Love, is the father of Mirth (see L’Allegro); but, mated with the cunning Circe, his offspring is a voluptuary whose gay exterior and flattering speech hide his dangerously seductive and magical powers. He bears no resemblance, therefore, to Comus as represented in Ben Jonson’s Pleasure reconciled to Virtue, in which mask “Comus” and “The Belly” are throughout synonymous. In the Agamemnon of Aeschylus, Comus is a “drinker of human blood”; in Philostratus, he is a rose-crowned wine-bibber; in Dekker he is “the clerk of gluttony’s kitchen”; in Massinger he is “the god of pleasure”; and in the work of Erycius Puteanus he is a graceful reveller, the genius of love and cheerfulness. Prof. Masson says, “Milton’s Comus is a creation of his own, for which he was as little indebted intrinsically to Puteanus as to Ben Jonson. For the purpose of his masque at Ludlow Castle he was bold enough to add a brand-new god, no less, to the classic Pantheon, and to import him into Britain.” Bacchus, the god who taught men the preparation of wine. He is the Greek Dionysus, who, on one of his voyages, hired a vessel belonging to some Tyrrhenian pirates: these men resolved to sell him as a slave. Thereupon, he changed the mast and oars of the ship into serpents and the sailors into dolphins. The meeting of Bacchus with Circe is Milton’s own invention; in the Odyssey it is Ulysses who lights upon her island: “And we came to the isle Ææan, where dwelt Circe of the braided tresses, an awful goddess of mortal speech, own sister to the wizard Æetes,” Odys. x. from out, etc. Comp. Par. Lost, v. 345. ‘From out’ has the same force as the more common ‘out from.’

47. misusèd, abused. The prefix mis- was very generally used by Milton; e.g. mislike, misdeem, miscreated, misthought (all obsolete).

48. After the Tuscan mariners transformed, i.e. after the transformation of the Tuscan mariners (see Ovid, Met. iii.). They are called Tuscan, because Tyrrhenia in Central Italy was named Etruria or Tuscia by the Romans: Etruria includes modern Tuscany. This grammatical construction is common in Latin; a passive participle combined with a substantive answering to an English verbal or abstract noun connected with another noun by the preposition of, and used to denote a fact in the past; e.g. “since created man” (P. L. i. 573) = since the creation of man: “this loss recovered” (P. L. ii. 21) = the recovery of this loss.

49. as the winds listed; at the pleasure of the winds: comp. John, iii. 8, “the wind bloweth where it listeth”; Lyc. 123. The verb list is, in older English, generally used impersonally, and in Chaucer we find ‘if thee lust’ or ‘if thee list’ = if it please thee. The word survives in the adjective listless of which the older form was lustless: the noun lust has lost its original and wider sense (which it still has in German), and now signifies ‘longing desire.’

50. On Circe’s island fell. Circe’s island = Aeaea, off the coast of Latium. Circe was the daughter of Helios (the Sun) by the ocean-nymph Perse. On ‘island,’ see note, l. 21; and with this use of the verb fall comp. the Latin incidere in. The sudden introduction of the interrogative clause in this line is an example of the figure of speech called anadiplosis.

51. charmèd cup, i.e. liquor that has been charmed or rendered magical. Charms are incantations or magic verses (Lat. carmina): comp. lines 526 and 817. Grammatically, ‘cup’ is the object of ‘tasted.’

52. Whoever tasted lost, i.e. who tasted (he) lost. In this construction whoever must precede both verbs; Shakespeare frequently uses who in this sense, and Milton occasionally: comp. Son. xii. 12, “who loves that must first be wise and good.” See Abbott, § 251. lost his upright shape. In Odyssey x. we read: “So Circe led them (followers of Ulysses) in and set them upon chairs and high seats, and made them a mess of cheese and barley-meal and yellow honey with Pramnian wine, and mixed harmful drugs with the food to make them utterly forget their own country. Now when she had given them the cup and they had drunk it off, presently she smote them with a wand, and in the styes of the swine she penned them. So they had the head and voice, the bristles and the shape of swine, but their mind abode even as of old. Thus were they penned there weeping, and Circe flung them acorns and mast and fruit of the cornel tree to eat, whereon wallowing swine do always batten.” (Butcher and Lang’s translation.)

54. clustering locks: comp. l. 608. Milton here pictures the Theban Bacchus, a type of manly beauty, having his head crowned with a wreath of vine and ivy: both of these plants were sacred to the god. Comp. L’Alleg. 16, “ivy-crowned Bacchus”; Par. Lost, iv. 303; Sams. Agon. 569.

55. his blithe youth, i.e. his fresh young figure.

57. ‘A son much like his father, but more like his mother.’ This may indicate that it is upon Comus’s character as a sorcerer rather than as a reveller that the story of the mask depends. Comp. Masque of Hymen:

58. Comus: see note, l. 46. The Greek word κῶμος denoted a revel or merry-making; afterwards it came to mean the personification of riotous mirth, the god of Revel. Hence also the word comedy. In classical mythology the individuality of Comus is not well defined: this enabled Milton more readily to endow him with entirely new characteristics.

59. frolic: an instance of the original use of the word as an adjective; comp. L’Alleg. 18, “frolic wind”; Tennyson’s Ulysses, “a frolic welcome.” It is now chiefly used as a noun or a verb, and a new adjective, frolicsome, has taken its place; from this, again, comes the noun frolicsomeness. Frolic is from the Dutch, and cognate with German fröhlich, so that lic in ‘frolic’ corresponds to ly in such words as cleanly, godly, etc. of: this use of the preposition may be compared with the Latin genitive in such phrases as æger animi = sick of soul; of = ‘because of’ or ‘in respect of.’

60. Roving the Celtic and Iberian fields, i.e. roving through Gaul and Spain. ‘Rove’ here governs an accusative: comp. Lyc. 173, “walked the waves”; Par. Lost, i. 521, “roamed the utmost Isles.”

61. betakes him. The pronoun has here a reflective force: in Elizabethan English, and still more often in Early English, this use of the simple pronouns is common (see Abbott, § 223). Compare l. 163. ominous; literally = full of omens or portents: comp. ‘monstrous’ = full of monsters (Lyc. 158); also l. 79. ‘Ominous’ has now acquired the sense of ‘ill-omened’; compare the acquired sense of ‘hapless,’ ‘unfortunate,’ etc.

65. orient, bright. The Lat. oriens = rising; hence (from being applied to the sun) = eastern (l. 30); and hence generally ‘bright’ or ‘shining’: comp. Par. Lost, i. 546, “With orient colours waving.”

66. drouth of Phoebus, i.e. thirst caused by the heat of the sun. Phoebus is Apollo, the Sun-god. Compare l. 928, where ‘drouth’ = want of rain; the more usual spelling is drought. which: see note, l. 2. ‘Which’ is here object of ‘taste,’ and refers to ‘liquor.’

67. fond, foolish (its primary sense). Fonned was the participle of an old verb fonnen, to be foolish. The word is now used to express great liking or affection: the idea of folly being almost entirely lost. Chaucer has fonne, a fool: comp. Il Pens. 6, “fancies fond”; Lyc. 56, “I fondly dream”; Sams. Agon. 1682, “So fond are mortal men.”

68. Soon as, etc., i.e. as soon as the magical draught produces its effect. In line 66 as is temporal. potion. Radically, potion = a drink, but it is generally used in the sense of a medicated or poisonous draught. Poison is the same word through the French.

69. Express resemblance of the gods. Comp. Shakespeare: “What a piece of work is man! ... in action how like an angel, in apprehension, how like a god!” See also Par. Lost, iii. 44, “human face divine.”

71. ounce. This is the Felis uncia, allied to the panther and the cheetah. Some connect it with the Persian yúz, panther.

72. All other parts, etc. In the Odyssey (see note on l. 52) the bodies of those transformed by Circe were entirely changed; here only the head. As one editor observes, this suited the convenience of the performers who were to appear on the stage in masks (see Stage direction, l. 92-3). Grammatically, line 72 is an example of the absolute construction, common in Latin. The noun (‘parts’) is neither the subject nor the object of a verb, but is used along with some attributive adjunct—generally a participle (‘remaining’)—to serve the purpose of an adverb or adverbial clause. The noun (or pronoun) is usually said to be the nominative absolute; but, in the case of pronouns, Milton uses the nominative and the objective indifferently. In Old English the dative was used.

73. perfect, complete (Lat. perfectus, done thoroughly).

74. Not once perceive, etc. This was not the case with the followers of Ulysses: see note, l. 52.

76. friends and native home forgot. Circe’s cup has here the effect ascribed to the lotus in Odyssey ix. “Now whosoever of them did eat the honey-sweet fruit of the lotus had no more wish to bring tidings nor to come back, but there he chose to abide with the lotus-eating men, ever feeding on the lotus and forgetful of his homeward way.” In Tennyson’s Lotos-Eaters there is no forgetfulness of friends and home: “Sweet it was to dream of Fatherland, Of child, and wife and slave.” Masson also refers to Plato’s ethical application of the story (Rep. viii.); “Plato speaks of the moral lotophagus, or youth steeped in sensuality, as accounting his very viciousness a developed manhood, and the so-called virtues but signs of rusticity.” Compare also Spenser, F. Q. ii. 12. 86, “One above the rest in speciall, That had an hog been late, ... did him miscall, That had from hoggish form him brought to natural.”

77. sensual sty: see note on l. 52. To those who, “with low-thoughted care,” are “unmindful of the crown that Virtue gives,” the world becomes little better than a sensual sty. This line is adverbial to forget.

78. favoured: compare Lat. gratus = favoured (adj.).

79. adventurous, full of risks. The current sense of ‘adventurous,’ applied only to persons, is “enterprising.” See l. 61, 609. glade: strictly, an open space in a wood, and hence applied (as here) to the wood itself. It is cognate with glow and glitter, and its fundamental sense is ‘a passage for light’ (Skeat).

80. glancing star, a shooting star. Comp. Par. Lost, iv. 556:

The rhythm of the line and the prevalence of sibilants suit the sense.

81. convoy: comp. Par. Lost, vi. 752, “convoyed By four cherubic shapes.” It is another form of convey (Lat. con = together, via = a way).

83. sky-robes: the “ambrosial weeds” of line 16. Iris’ woof, material dyed in rainbow colours. The goddess Iris was a personification of the rainbow: comp. l. 992 and Par. Lost, xi. 244, “Iris had dipped the woof.” Etymologically, woof is connected with web and weave: it is short for on-wef = on-web, i.e. the cross threads laid on the warp of a loom.

84. weeds: see note, l. 16.

86. That to the service, etc. The part of the Spirit was acted by Lawes, first in “sky-robes,” then in shepherd dress. In the dedication of Comus by Lawes to Lord Brackley (anonymous edition of 1637), he alludes to the favours that had been shown him by the Bridgewater family. In the above lines Milton compliments Lawes and enables Lawes to compliment the Earl (see Introduction).

86. smooth-dittied: sweetly-worded. ‘Ditty’ (Lat. dictatum) strictly denotes the words of a song as distinct from the musical accompaniment; it is now applied to any little piece intended to be sung: comp. Lyc. 32. For a similar panegyric on Lawes’ musical genius compare Son. xiii. The musical alliteration in lines 86-88 should be noted.

87. knows to still, etc.: comp. Lyc. 10, “he knew Himself to sing.”

88. nor of less faith, etc.; i.e. he is not less faithful than he is skilful in music; and from the nature of his occupation he is most likely to be at hand should any emergency arise.

92. viewless, invisible: comp. The Passion, 50, “viewless wing”; Par. Lost, iii. 518. Masson calls this a peculiarly Shakespearian word: see M. for M. iii. 1. 124, “To be imprisoned in the viewless winds.” The word is obsolete, but poets use great liberty in the formation of adjectives in -less: comp. Shelley’s Sensitive Plant, ‘windless clouds.’ See note, l. 574. charming-rod: see note, l. 52: also l. 653. rout, a disorderly crowd. The word is also used in the sense of ‘defeat,’ and is cognate with route, rote, and rut. All come from Lat. ruptus, broken: a ‘rout’ is the breaking up of a crowd, or a crowd broken up; a ‘route’ is a way broken through a forest; ‘rote’ is a beaten track; and a ‘rut’ is a track left by a wheel. See Lyc. 61, “by the rout that made the hideous roar.”

93. star ... fold, the evening star, Hesperus, an appellation of the planet Venus: comp. Lyc. 30. As the morning star (called by Shakespeare the ‘unfolding star’), it is called Phosphorus or Lucifer, the light-bringer. Hence Tennyson’s allusion:

Lines 93-144 are in rhymed couplets, and consist for the most part of eight syllables each. The prevailing accentuation is iambic.

94. top of heaven, etc., i.e. is far above the horizon. So in Lyc. 31, it is said to slope “toward heaven’s descent,” i.e. to sink towards the horizon. Comp. Virgil, Aen. ii. 250, “Round rolls the sky, and on comes Night from the ocean.”

95. gilded car: Apollo, as the god of the Sun, rode in a golden chariot. Comp. Chaucer, Test. of Creseide, 208, “Phoebus’ golden cart”; and “Phoebus’ wain,” line 190.

96. his glowing axle doth allay. In the Hymn of the Nativity Milton alludes to the “burning axle-tree” of the sun: comp. Aen. iv. 482, “Atlas Axem umero torquet.” There is here an allusion to the opinion of the ancients that the setting of the sun in the Atlantic Ocean was accompanied with a noise, as of the sea hissing (Todd). ‘Allay’ would thus denote ‘quench’ or ‘cool.’ His, in this line, = its. Its occurs only three times in Milton’s poems, Od. Nat. 106; Par. Lost, i. 254; Par. Lost, iv. 813: the word is found also in Lawes’ dedication of Comus. The word does not occur in English at all until the end of the sixteenth century, the possessive case of the neuter pronoun it and of the masculine he being his. This gave rise to confusion when the old gender system decayed, and the form its gradually came into use, until, by the end of the seventeenth century, it was in general use. Milton, however, scarcely recognised it, its place in his involved syntax being taken by the relative pronouns and other connectives, or by his, her, thereof, etc.

97. steep Atlantic stream. To the ancients the Ocean was the great stream that encompassed the earth: Iliad, xiv., “the deep-flowing Okeanos (βαθύρροος).” With this use of ‘steep’ compare the phrase ‘the high seas.’

98. slope sun, sun sunk beneath the horizon, so that the only rays visible shoot up into the sky. Slope = sloped; also used by Milton as an adverb = aslope (Par. Lost, iv. 591), and as a verb (Lyc. 31).

99. dusky. Milton first wrote ‘northern.’

100. Pacing toward the other goal, etc. Comp. Psalm xix. 5: “The sun as a bridegroom cometh out of his chamber, and rejoiceth as a strong man to run a race.”

102. The spirit of lines 102-144 may be contrasted with that of L’Allegro, 25-40. Both pieces are calls upon Mirth and Pleasure, and both are therefore suitably expressed in the same tripping measure and with many similarities of language. But the pleasures of L’Allegro begin with the sun-rise and yet are “unreproved”; those of Comus and his crew begin with the darkness and are “unreproved” only if “these dun shades will ne’er report” them. The “light fantastic toe” of the one is not the “tipsy dance” of the other; and the laughter and liberty that betoken the absence of “wrinkled Care” have nothing in common with the “midnight shout and revelry” that can be enjoyed only when Rigour, Advice, strict Age, and sour Severity have “gone to bed.” The “quips and cranks” of L’Allegro have given way to the magic rites of Comus, and the wreathed smiles and dimples that adorn the face of innocent Mirth are ill replaced by the wine-dropping “rosy twine” of revelry.

104. jollity: has here its modern sense of boisterous mirth. In Milton occasionally the adjective ‘jolly’ (Fr. joli, pretty) has its primary sense of pleasing or festive.

105. Braid your locks with rosy twine; ‘entwine your hair with wreaths of roses.’

106. dropping odours: comp. l. 862-3.

108. Advice ... scrupulous head. ‘Advice,’ now used chiefly to signify counsel given by another, was formerly used also of self-counsel or deliberation. See Chaucer, Prologue, 786, “granted him without more advice”; and comp. Shakespeare, M. of V. iv. 2. 6, “Bassanio upon more advice, Hath sent you here this ring”; also Par. Lost, ii. 376, “Advise, if this be worth Attempting,” where ‘advise’ = consider. See also l. 755, note. Scrupulous = full of scruples, conscientious.

110. saws, sayings, maxims. Saw, say, and saga (a Norwegian legend) are cognate.

111. of purer fire, i.e. having a higher or diviner nature. (Or, as there is really no question of degree, we may render the phrase as = divine.) Compare the Platonic doctrine that each element had living creatures belonging to it, those of fire being the gods; similarly the Stoics held that whatever consisted of pure fire was divine, e.g. the stars: hence the additional significance of line 112.

112. the starry quire: an allusion to the music of the spheres; see lines 3, 1021. Pythagoras supposed that the planets emitted sounds proportional to their distances from the earth and formed a celestial concert too melodious to affect the “gross unpurgèd ear” of mankind: comp. l. 458 and Arc. 63-73. Shakespeare (M. of V. v. 1. 61) alludes to the music of the spheres:

Quire is a form of choir (Lat. chorus, a band of singers); in Greek tragedy the chorus was supposed to represent the sentiments of the audience. Quire (of paper) is a totally different word, probably derived from Lat. quatuor, four.

113. nightly watchful spheres. Milton elsewhere alludes to the stars keeping watch: “And all the spangled host keep watch in order bright,” Hymn Nat. 21. ‘Nightly,’ used as an adjective in the sense of ‘nocturnal’: comp. Il Pens. 84, “To bless the doors from nightly harm”; Arc. 48, “nightly ill”; and Wordsworth’s line: “The nightly hunter lifting up his eyes.” Its ordinary sense is “night by night.”

114. Lead in swift round. Comp. Arc. 71: “And the low world in measured motion draw, After the heavenly tune.”

115. sounds, straits: A.S. sund, a strait of the sea, so called because it could be swum across. See Skeat, Etym. Dict. s.v.

116. to the moon, i.e. as affected by the moon. For similar uses of ‘to,’ comp. Lyc. 33, “tempered to the oaten flute”; Lyc. 44, “fanning their joyous leaves to thy soft lays.” morrice. The waters quiver in the moonlight as if dancing. The morrice = a morris or Moorish dance, brought into Spain by the Moors, and thence introduced into England by John of Gaunt. We read also of a “morris-pike”—a weapon used by the Moors in Spain.

117. shelves, flat ledges of rock.

118. pert, lively. Here used in its radical sense (being a form of perk, smart): its modern sense is ‘forward’ or ‘impertinent.’ Skeat points out that perk and pert were both used as verbs; e.g. “perked up in a glistering grief,” Henry VIII. ii. 3. 21: “how it (a child) speaks, and looks, and perts up the head,” Beaumont and Fletcher’s Knight of the Burning Pestle, i. 1. A similar change of k into t is seen in E. mate from M.E. make. dapper, quick (Du. dapper, Ger. tapfer, brave, quick). It is usual in the sense of ‘neat.’

119. dimple. Dimple is a diminutive of dip, and cognate with dingle and dapple.

120. daisies trim: comp. L’Alleg. 75, “Meadows trim, with daisies pied”; Il Pens. 50, “trim gardens.”

121. wakes, night-watches (A.S. niht-wacu, a night wake). The adjective wakeful (A.S. wacol) is the exact cognate of the Latin vigil. The word was applied to the vigil kept at the dedication of a church, then to the feast connected therewith, and finally to an evening merry-making. prove, test, judge of (Lat. probare). This is its sense in older writers and in the much-misunderstood phrase—“the exception proves the rule,” which means that the exception is a test of the rule.

124. Venus now wakes, etc. Spenser, Brit. Ida, ii. 3, has “Night is Love’s holyday.” In this line wakens is used transitively, its object being ‘Love.’

125. rights. Here used, as sometimes by Spenser, where modern usage requires rites (Lat. ritus, a custom): see l. 535.

126. daylight ... sin. Daylight makes sin by revealing it. Contrast the sentiment of Comus with that of Milton in Par. Lost, i. 500, “When night Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons Of Belial.”

127. dun shades: evidently suggested by Fairfax’s Tasso, ix. 62, “The horrid darkness, and the shadows dun.” ‘Dun’ is A.S. dunn, dark.

129. Cotytto, the goddess of Licentiousness: here called ‘dark-veiled’ because her midnight orgies were veiled in darkness. She was a Thracian divinity, and her worshippers were called Baptae (‘sprinkled’), because the ceremony of initiation involved the sprinkling of warm water.

131. called, invoked. dragon-womb Of Stygian darkness. The Styx (= ‘the abhorred’) was the chief river in the lower world. Milton here speaks of darkness as something positive, ejected from the womb of Night, Night being represented as a monster of the lower regions: comp. Par. Lost, i. 63. The pronoun ‘her’ shows that ‘womb’ is here used in its strict sense, but in Par. Lost, i. 673, “in his womb was hid metallic ore,” it has the more general sense of “interior”: comp. the use of Lat. uterus, Aen. ii. 258, vii. 499. dragon: Shakespeare refers to the dragons or ‘dragon car’ of night, Cym. ii. 2. 48, “Swift, swift, you dragons of the night”; Tro. and Cress. v. 8. 17, “The dragon wing of night o’erspreads the earth”; see also Il Pens. 59, “Cynthia checks her dragon yoke.”

132. spets, a form of spits (as spettle for spittle).

133. one blot, i.e. a universal blot: comp. Macbeth, ii. 2. 63. Milton first wrote, “And makes a blot of nature.”

134. Stay, here used causally = check. The radical sense of the word is ‘to support,’ as in the substantive stay and its plural stays. ebon, black as ebony. Ebony is so called because it is hard as a stone (Heb. eben, a stone); and the wood being of a dark colour, the name has become a synonym both for hardness and for blackness.

135. Hecat’, i.e. Hecatè (as in line 535): a mysterious Thracian divinity, afterwards regarded as the goddess of witchcraft: for these reasons a fit companion for Cotytto and a fit patroness of Comus. Jonson calls her “the mistress of witches.” She was supposed to send forth at night all kinds of demons and phantoms, and to wander about with the souls of the dead and amidst the howling of dogs.

136. utmost end, full completion. Compare L’Alleg. 109, “the corn That ten day-labourers could not end,” where ‘end’ = ‘complete.’

137. dues: see note, l. 12.

138. blabbing eastern scout, i.e. the tale-telling spy that comes from the East, viz. Morning.

139. nice; hard to please, fastidious: “a finely chosen epithet, expressing at once curious and squeamish” (Hurd). It is used by Comus in contempt: comp. ii. Henry IV. iv. 1, “Hence, therefore, thou nice crutch”; and see the index to the Globe Shakespeare. the Indian steep. In his Elegia Tertia Milton represents the sun as the “light-bringing king” whose home is on the shores of the Ganges (i.e. in the far East): comp. “the Indian mount,” Par. Lost, i. 781, and Tennyson’s In Memoriam, xxvi., “ere yet the morn Breaks hither over Indian seas.”

140. cabined loop-hole: an allusion to the first glimpse of dawn, i.e. the peep of day. Comp. “Out of her window close she blushing peeps,” said of the morning (P. Fletcher’s Eclogues), as if the first rays of the sun struggled through some small aperture. ‘Cabined,’ literally ‘belonging to a cabin,’ and therefore small.

141. tell-tale Sun. Compare Spenser, Brit. Ida, ii. 3,

Shakespeare refers to “the tell-tale day” (R. of L. 806). In Odyssey, viii., we read how Helios (the sun) kept watch and informed Vulcan of Venus’s love for Mars. descry, etc., i.e. make known our hidden rites. ‘Descry’ is here used in its primary sense = describe: both words are from Lat. describere, to write fully. In Milton and Shakespeare ‘descry’ also occurs in the sense of ‘to reconnoitre.’

142. solemnity, ceremony, rite. The word is from Lat. sollus, complete, and annus, a year; ‘solemn’ = solennis = sollennis. Hence the changes of meaning: (1) recurring at the end of a completed year; (2) usual; (3) religious, for sacred festivals recur at stated intervals; (4) that which is not to be lightly undertaken, i.e. serious or important.

143. knit hands, etc. Comp. Masque of Hymen:

144. light fantastic round: comp. L’Alleg. 34, “Come, and trip it, as you go, On the light fantastic toe.” A round is a dance or ‘measure’ in which the dancers join hands, ‘Fantastic’ = full of fancy, unrestrained. So Shakespeare uses it of that which has merely been imagined, and has not yet happened. It is now used in the sense of grotesque. Fancy is a form of fantasy (Greek phantasia).

At this point in the mask Comus and his rout dance a measure, after which he again speaks, but in a different strain. The change is marked by a return to blank verse: the previous lines are mostly in octosyllabic couplets.

145. different, i.e. different from the voluptuous footing of Comus and his crew.

146. footing: comp. Lyc. 103, “Camus, reverend sire, went footing slow.”

147. shrouds, coverts, places of hiding. The word etymologically denotes ‘something cut off,’ being allied to ‘shred’; hence a garment; and finally (as in Milton) any covering or means of covering. Many of Latimer’s sermons are described as having been “preached in The Shrouds,” a covered place near St. Paul’s Cathedral. The modern use of the word is restricted: comp. l. 316. brakes, bushes. Shakespeare has “hawthorn-brake,” M. N. D. iii. l. 3, and the word seems to be connected with bracken.

148. Some virgin sure, sc. ‘it is.’

150. charms ... wily trains; i.e. spells ... cunning allurements. Charm is the Lat. carmen, a song, also used in the sense of ‘magic verses’; wily = full of wile (etymologically the same as guile). Train here denotes an artifice or snare as in ‘venereal trains’ (Sams. Agon. 533): “Oh, train me not, sweet mermaid, with thy note” (Com. of Errors, iii. 2. 45). See Index, Globe Shakespeare. Some would take ‘wily trains’ as = trains of wiles.

151. ere long: ere has here the force of a preposition; in A.S. it was an adverb as well = soon, but now it is used only as a conjunction or a preposition.

153. Thus I hurl, etc. “Conceive that at this moment of the performance the actor who personates Comus flings into the air, or makes a gesture as if flinging into the air, some powder, which, by a stage-device, is kindled so as to produce a flash of blue light. In the original draft among the Cambridge MSS. the phrase is powdered spells; but Milton, by a judicious change, concealing the mechanism of the stage-trick, substituted dazzling” (Masson).

154. dazzling. This implies both brightness and illusion. spells. A spell is properly a magical form of words (A.S. spel, a saying): here it refers to the whole enchantment employed. spongy air: so called because it holds in suspension the magic powder.

155. Of power to cheat ... and (to) give, etc. These lines are attributive to ‘spells.’ The preposition ‘of’ is thus used to denote a characteristic; thus ‘of power’ = powerful; comp. l. 677. blear illusion; deception, that which deceives by blurring the vision. Shakespeare has ‘bleared thine eye’ = dimmed thy vision, deceived (Tam. Shrew, v. 1. 120). Comp. “This may stand for a pretty superficial argument, to blear our eyes, and lull us asleep in security” (Sir W. Raleigh). Blur is another form of blear.

156. presentments, appearances. This word is to be distinguished from presentiment. A presentiment is a “fore-feeling” (Lat. praesentire): while a presentment is something presented (Lat. praesens, being before). Shakespeare, Ham. iii. 4. 54, has ‘presentment’ in the sense of picture. quaint habits, unfamiliar dress. Quaint is from Lat. cognitus, so that its primary sense is ‘known’ or ‘remarkable.’ In French it became coint, which was treated as if from Lat. comptus, neat; hence the word is frequent in the sense of neat, exact, or delicate. Its modern sense is ‘unusual’ or ‘odd.’

158. suspicious flight: flight due to suspicion of danger.

160. I, under fair pretence, etc.: ‘Under the mask of friendly intentions and with the plausible language of wheedling courtesy, I insinuate myself into the unsuspecting mind and ensnare it.’

161. glozing, flattering, wheedling. Compare Par. Lost, ix. 549,

Gloze is from the old word glose, a gloss or explanation (Gr. glossa, the tongue): hence also glossary, glossology, etc. Trench, in his lecture on the Morality of Words, points out how often fair names are given to ugly things: it is in this way that a word which merely denoted an explanation has come to denote a false explanation, an endeavour to deceive. The word has no connection with gloss = brightness.

162. Baited, rendered attractive. Radically bait is the causative of bite; hence a trap is said to be baited. Comp. Sams. Ag. 1066, “The bait of honied words.”

163. wind me, etc. The verbs wind (i.e. coil) and hug suggest the cunning of the serpent. The easy-hearted man is the person whose heart or mind is easily overcome: ‘man’ is here used generically. Burton, in Anat. of Mel., says: “The devil, being a slender incomprehensible spirit, can easily insinuate and wind himself into human bodies.” Me is here used reflexively: see note, l. 61. This is not the ethic dative.

165. virtue, i.e. power or influence (Lat. virtus). This radical sense is still found in the phrase ‘by virtue of’ = by the power of. The adjective virtuous is now used only of moral excellence: in line 621 it has its older meaning.

166. The reading of the text is that of the editions of 1637 and 1645. In the edition of 1673 the reading was:

But in the errata there was a direction to omit the comma after may, and to change here into hear. In Masson’s text, accordingly, he reads: “And hearken, if I may her business hear.”

167. keeps up, etc., i.e. keeps occupied with his country affairs even up to a late hour. Gear: its original sense is ‘preparation’ (A.S. gearu, ready); hence ‘business’ or ‘property.’ Comp. Spenser, F. Q. vi. 3. 6, “That to Sir Calidore was easy gear,” i.e. an easy matter, fairly, softly. Fair and softly were two words which went together, signifying gently (Warton).

170. mine ear ... My best guide. Observe the juxtaposition of mine and my in these lines. Mine is frequent before a vowel, especially when the possessive adjective is not emphatic. In Shakespeare ‘mine’ is almost always found before “eye,” “ear,” etc., where no emphasis is intended (Abbott, § 237).

171. Methought, i.e. it seemed to me. In the verb ‘methinks’ me is the dative, and thinks is an impersonal verb (A.S. thincan, to appear), quite distinct from the causal verb ‘I think,’ which is from A.S. thencan, to make to appear.

173. jocund, merry. Comp. L’Allegro, 94, “the jocund rebecks sound.” gamesome, lively. This word, like many other adjectives in -some, is now less common than it was in Elizabethan English: many such adjectives are obsolete, e.g. laboursome, joysome, quietsome, etc. (see Trench’s English, Past and Present, v.).

174. unlettered hinds, ignorant rustics (A.S. hina, a domestic).

175. granges, granaries, barns (Lat. granum, grain). The word is now applied to a farm-house with its outhouses.

176. Pan, the god of everything connected with pastoral life: see Arc. 106, “Though Syrinx your Pan’s mistress were.”

177. thank the gods amiss. Amiss stands for M.E. on misse = in error. “Perhaps there is a touch of Puritan rigour in this. The gods should be thanked in solemn acts of devotion, and not by merry-making” (Keightley). See Introduction.

178. swilled insolence, etc., i.e. the drunken rudeness of those carousing at this late hour. Swill: to swill is to drink greedily, hence to drink like a pig. wassailers; from ‘wassail’ [A.S. waes hael; from wes, be thou, and hál, whole (modern English hale)], a form of salutation, used in drinking one’s health; and hence employed in the sense of ‘revelling’ or ‘carousing.’ The ‘wassail-bowl’ here referred to is the “spicy nutbrown ale” of L’Allegro, 100. In Scott’s Ivanhoe, the Friar drinks to the Black Knight with the words, “Waes hale, Sir Sluggish Knight,” the Knight replying “Drink hale, Holy Clerk.”

180. inform ... feet. Comp. Sams. Agon. 335: “hither hath informed your younger feet.” This use of ‘inform’ (= direct) is well illustrated in Spenser’s F. Q. vi. 6: “Which with sage counsel, when they went astray, He could enforme, and then reduce aright.”

184. spreading favour. Epithet transferred from cause to effect.

187. kind hospitable woods: an instance of the pathetic fallacy which attributes to inanimate objects the feelings of men: comp. ll. 194, 195. As in this line (after such) has the force of a relative pronoun.

188. grey-hooded Even. Comp. “sandals grey,” Lyc. 187; “civil-suited,” Il Pens. 122; both applied to morning.

189. a sad votarist, etc. A votarist is one who is bound by a vow (Lat. votum): the current form is votary, applied in a general sense to one devoted to an object, e.g. a votary of science. In the present case, the votarist is a palmer, i.e. a pilgrim who carried a palm-branch in token of his having been to Palestine. Such would naturally wear sober-coloured or homely garments: comp. Drayton, “a palmer poor in homely russet clad.” In Par. Reg. xiv. 426, Morning is a pilgrim clad in “amice grey.” On weed, see note, l. 16.

190. hindmost wheels: comp. l. 95: “If this fine image is optically realised, what we see is Evening succeeding Day as the figure of a venerable grey-hooded mendicant might slowly follow the wheels of some rich man’s chariot” (Masson).

192. labour ... thoughts, the burden of my thoughts.

193. engaged, committed: this use of the word may be compared with that in Hamlet, iii. 3. 69, “Art more engaged” (= bound or entangled). To engage is to bind by a gage or pledge.

195. stole, stolen. This use of the past form for the participle is frequent in Elizabethan English. Else, etc. The meaning is: ‘The envious darkness must have stolen my brothers, otherwise why should night hide the light of the stars?’ The clause ‘but for some felonious end’ is therefore to some extent tautological.

197. dark lantern. The stars by a far-fetched metaphor are said to be concealed, though not extinguished, just as the light of a dark lantern is shut off by a slide. Comp. More; “Vice is like a dark lanthorn, which turns its bright side only to him that bears it.”

198. everlasting oil. Comp. F. Q. i. 1. 57:

also Macbeth, ii. 1. 5, “There’s husbandry in heaven; Their candles are all out.” There is here an irregularity of syntax. “That Nature hung in heaven” is a relative clause co-ordinate in sense with the next clause; but by a change of thought the phrase “and filled their lamps” is treated as a principal clause, and a new object is introduced: comp. l. 6.

203. rife, prevalent. perfect, distinct; see note, l. 73.

204. single darkness, darkness only. Single is from the same base as simple; comp. l. 369.

205. What might this be? This is a direct question about a past event, and has the same meaning as “what should it be?” in line 482: see note there. A thousand fantasies, etc. On this, passage Lowell says: “That wonderful passage in Comus of the airy tongues, perhaps the most imaginative in suggestion he ever wrote, was conjured out of a dry sentence in Purchas’s abstract of Marco Polo. Such examples help us to understand the poet.” Reference may also be made to the Anat. of Mel.: “Fear makes our imagination conceive what it list, ... and tyrannizeth over our fantasy more than all other affections, especially in the dark”; also to the song prefixed to the same work, “My phantasie presents a thousand ugly shapes,” etc. On the power of imagination or phantasy, Shakespeare says:

Compare also Ben Jonson’s Vision of Delight:

207. Of calling shapes, etc. In Heywood’s Hierarchy of Angels there is a reference to travellers seeing strange shapes beckoning to them. Such words as ‘shapes,’ ‘shadows,’ ‘airy tongues,’ etc., illustrate Milton’s power to create an indefinite, yet expressive picture. Comp. Aen. iv. 460. beckoning shadows dire. A characteristic arrangement of words in Milton: comp. lines 470, 945.

208. syllable, pronounce distinctly.

210. may startle well, may well startle.

212. siding champion, Conscience. To side is to take a side, and hence to assist: comp. Cor. iv. 2. 2: “The nobles who have sided in his behalf.” ‘Conscience’ (here a trisyllable) is used in its current sense: in Son. xxii. 10 it means consciousness. Comp. Hen. VIII. iii. 2. 379: “A peace above all earthly dignities, A still and quiet Conscience.”

213. pure-eyed Faith. Comp. Lyc. 81, “those pure eyes And perfect witness of all-judging Jove”; also the Scriptural words, “God is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity.” The maiden, whose safeguard is her purity, calls on Faith, Hope, and Chastity, each being characterised by an epithet denoting purity of thought and act, viz. ‘pure-eyed,’ ‘white-handed,’ and ‘unblemished.’ The placing of Chastity instead of Charity in the trio is significant: see i. Cor. xiii.

214. hovering angel. Hope hovers over the maiden to protect her. The word ‘hover’ is found frequently in the sense of ‘shelter.’ girt, surrounded. golden wings. In Il Pens. 52, Contemplation “soars on golden wing.”

216. see ye visibly, i.e. you are not mere shapes, but living presences. Ye: here the object of the verb. “This confusion between ye and you did not exist in old English; ye was always used as a nominative, and you as a dative or accusative. In the English Bible the distinction is very carefully observed, but in the dramatists of the Elizabethan period there is a very loose use of the two forms” (Morris). It is so in Milton, who has ye as nominative, accusative, and dative; comp. lines 513, 967, 1020; also Arc. 40, 81, 101. It may be noted that ye can be pronounced more rapidly than you, and is therefore frequent when an unaccented syllable is required.

217. the Supreme Good. God being the Supreme Good, if evil exists, it must exist for God’s purposes. Evil exists for the sake of ‘vengeance’ or punishment.

219. glistering guardian, i.e. one clad in the ‘pure ambrosial weeds’ of l. 16. Glister, glisten, glitter, and glint are cognate words.

221. Was I deceived? There is a break in the construction at the end of line 220. The girl’s trust in Heaven is suddenly strengthened by a glimpse of light in the dark sky. Warton regards the repetition of the same words in lines 223, 224 as beautifully expressing the confidence of an unaccusing conscience.

222. her = its. In Latin nubes, a cloud, is feminine.

223. does ... turn ... and casts. Comp. Il Pens. 46, ‘doth diet’ and ‘hears.’ When two co-ordinate verbs are of the same tense and mood the auxiliary verb should apply to both. The above construction is due probably to change of thought.

225. tufted grove. Comp. L’Alleg. 78: “bosomed high in tufted trees.”

226. hallo. Also hallow (as in Milton’s editions), halloo, halloa, and holloa.

227. make to be heard. Make = cause.

228. new-enlivened spirits, i.e. my spirits that have been newly enlivened: for the form of the compound adjective comp. note, l. 36.

229. they, i.e. the brothers.

230. Echo. In classical mythology she was a nymph whom Juno punished by preventing her from speaking before others or from being silent after others had spoken. She fell in love with Narcissus, and pined away until nothing remained of her but her voice. Compare the invocation to Echo in Ben Jonson’s Cynthia’s Revels, i. 1.

The lady’s song, which has been described as “an address to the very Genius of Sound,” is here very naturally introduced. The lady wishes to rouse the echoes of the wood in order to attract her brothers’ notice, and she does so by addressing Echo, who grieves for the lost youth Narcissus as the lady grieves for her lost brothers.

231. thy airy shell; the atmosphere. Comp. “the hollow round of Cynthia’s seat,” Hymn Nat. 103. The marginal reading in the MS. is cell. Some suppose that ‘shell’ is here used, like Lat. concha, because in classical times various musical instruments were made in the form of a shell.

232. Meander’s margent green. Maeander, a river of Asia Minor, remarkable for the windings of its course; hence the verb ‘to meander,’ and hence also (in Keightley’s opinion) the mention of the river as a haunt of Echo. It is more probable, however, that, as the lady addresses Echo as the “Sweet Queen of Parley” and the unhappy lover of the lost Narcissus, the river is here mentioned because of its associations with music and misfortune. The Marsyas was a tributary of the Maeander, and the legend was that the flute upon which Marsyas played in his rash contest with Apollo was carried into the Maeander and, after being thrown on land, dedicated to Apollo, the god of song. Comp. Lyc. 58-63, where the Muses and misfortune are similarly associated by a reference to Orpheus, whose ‘gory visage’ and lyre were carried “down the swift Hebrus to the Lesbian shore.” Further, the Maeander is associated with the sorrows of the maiden Byblis, who seeks her lost brother Caunus (called by Ovid Maeandrius juvenis). [Since the above was written, Prof. J. W. Hales has given the following explanation of Milton’s allusion: “The real reason is that the Meander was a famous haunt of swans, and the swan was a favourite bird with the Greek and Latin writers—one to whose sweet singing they perpetually allude” (Athenaeum, April 20, 1889).] ‘Margent.’ Marge and margin are forms of the same word.

233. the violet-embroidered vale. The notion that flowers broider or ornament the ground is common in poetry: comp. Par. Lost, iv. 700: “Under foot the violet, Crocus, and hyacinth, with rich inlay Broidered the ground.” In Lyc. 148, the flowers themselves wear ‘embroidery.’ The nightingale is made to haunt a violet-embroidered vale because these flowers are associated with love (see Jonson’s Masque of Hymen) and with innocence (see Hamlet, iv. 5. 158: “I would give you some violets, but they withered all when my father died”). Prof. Hales, however, thinks that some particular vale is here alluded to, and argues, with much acumen, that the poet referred to the woodlands close by Athens to the north-west, through which the Cephissus flowed, and where stood the birthplace of Sophocles, who sings of his native Colonus as frequented by nightingales. The same critic regards the epithet ‘violet-embroidered’ as a translation of the Greek ἰοστέφανος (= crowned with violets), frequently applied by Aristophanes to Athens, of which Colonus was a suburb. Macaulay also refers to Athens as “the violet-crowned city.” It is, at least, very probable that Milton might here associate the nightingale with Colonus, as he does in Par. Reg. iv. 245: see the following note.

234. love-lorn nightingale, the nightingale whose loved ones are lost: comp. Virgil, Georg. iv. 511: “As the nightingale wailing in the poplar shade plains for her lost young, ... while she weeps the night through, and sitting on a bough, reproduces her piteous melody, and fills the country round with the plaints of her sorrow.” Lorn and lost are cognate words, the former being common in the compound forlorn: see note, l. 39. Milton makes frequent allusion to the nightingale: in Il Penseroso it is ‘Philomel’; in Par. Reg. iv. 245, it is ‘the Attic bird’; and in Par. Lost viii. 518, it is ‘the amorous bird of night.’ He calls it the Attic bird in allusion to the story of Philomela, the daughter of Pandion, King of Athens. Near the Academy was Colonus, which Sophocles has celebrated as the haunt of nightingales (Browne). Philomela was changed, at her own prayer, into a nightingale that she might escape the vengeance of her brother-in-law Tereus. The epithet ‘love-lorn,’ however, seems to point to the legend of Aēdon (Greek ἀηδών, a nightingale), who, having killed her own son by mistake, was changed into a nightingale, whose mournful song was represented by the Greek poets as the lament of the mother for her child.

235. her sad song mourneth, i.e. sings her plaintive melody. ‘Sad song’ forms a kind of cognate accusative.

237. likest thy Narcissus. Narcissus, who failed to return the love of Echo, was punished by being made to fall in love with his own image reflected in a fountain: this he could never approach, and he accordingly pined away and was changed into the flower which bears his name. See the dialogue between Mercury and Echo in Cynthia’s Revels, i. 1. Grammatically, likest is an adjective qualified adverbially by “(to) thy Narcissus”: comp. Il Pens. 9, “likest hovering dreams.”

238. have hid. This is not a grammatical inaccuracy (as Warton thinks), but the subjunctive mood.

240. Tell me but where, i.e. ‘Only tell me where.’

241. Sweet Queen of Parley, etc. ‘Parley is conversation (Fr. parler, to speak): parlour, parole, palaver, parliament, parlance. etc., are cognate. Daughter of the Sphere, i.e. of the sphere which is her “airy shell” (l. 231): comp. “Sphere-born harmonious sisters, Voice and Verse” (At a Solemn Music, 2).

243. give resounding grace, etc., i.e. add the charm of echo to the music of the spheres.

The metrical structure of this song should be noted: the lines vary in length from two to six feet. The rhymes are few, and the effect is more striking owing to the consonance of shell, well with vale, nightingale; also of pair, where with are and sphere; and of have with cave. Masson regards this song as a striking illustration of Milton’s free use of imperfect rhymes, even in his most musical passages.

244. mortal mixture ... divine enchanting ravishment. The words mortal and divine are in antithesis: comp. Il Pens. 91, 92, “The immortal mind that hath forsook Her mansion in this fleshly nook.” The lines embody a compliment to the Lady Alice: read in this connection lines 555 and 564. ‘Ravishment,’ rapture (a cognate word) or ecstasy: comp. Il Pens. 40, “Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes”; also l. 794.

246. Sure, used adverbially: comp. line 493, and ‘certain,’ l. 266.

247. vocal, used proleptically.

248. his = its: see note, l. 96. The pronoun refers to ‘something holy.’

251. smoothing the raven down. As the nightingale’s song smooths the rugged brow of Night (Il Pens. 58), so here the song of the lady smooths the raven plumage of darkness. In classical mythology Night is a winged goddess.

252. it, i.e. darkness.

253. Circe ... Sirens three. In the Odyssey the Sirens are two in number and have no connection with Circe. They lived on a rocky island off the coast of Sicily and near the rock of Scylla (l. 257), and lured sailors to destruction by the charm of their song. Circe was also a sweet singer and had the power of enchanting men; hence the combined allusion: see also Horace’s Epist. i. 2, 23, Sirenum voces, et Circes pocula nôsti. Besides, the Sirens were daughters of the river-god Achelous, and Circe had Naiads or fountain-nymphs among her maids.

254. flowery-kirtled Naiades: fresh-water nymphs dressed in flowers, or having their skirts decorated with flowers. A kirtle is a gown; Skeat suggests that it is a diminutive of skirt.

255. baleful, injurious (A.S. balu, evil).

256. sung. “The verbs swim, begin, run, drink, shrink, sink, ring, sing, spring, have for their proper past tenses swam, began, ran, etc., preserving the original a; but in older writers (sixteenth and seventeenth centuries) and in colloquial English we find forms with u, which have come from the passive participles.” (Morris). take the prisoned soul, i.e. would take the soul prisoner; ‘prisoned’ being used proleptically.

257. lap it in Elysium. Lap is a form of wrap: comp. L’Alleg. 136, “Lap me in soft Lydian airs.” Elysium: the abode of the spirits of the blessed; comp. L’Alleg. 147, “heaped Elysian flowers.” Scylla ... Charybdis. The former, a rival of Circe in the affections of the sea-god Glaucus, was changed into a monster, surrounded by barking dogs. She threw herself into the sea and became a rock, the noise of the surrounding waves (”multis circum latrantibus undis,” Aen. vii. 588) resembling the barking of dogs. The latter was a daughter of Poseidon, and was hurled by Zeus into the sea, where she became a whirlpool.

260. slumber: comp. Pericles, v. 1. 335, “thick slumber Hangs upon mine eyes.”

261. madness, ecstasy. The same idea is expressed in Il Pens. 164: “As may with sweetness, through mine ear, Dissolve me into ecstasies, And bring all heaven before mine eyes.” In Shakespeare ‘ecstasy’ occurs in the sense of madness; see Hamlet, iii. 1. 167, “That unmatched form and feature of blown youth, Blasted with ecstasy”; Temp. iii. 3. 108, “hinder them from what this ecstasy May now provoke them to”: comp. also “the pleasure of that madness,” Wint. Tale, v. 3. 73. See also l. 625.

262. home-felt, deeply felt. Compare “The home thrust of a friendly sword is sure” (Dryden); “This is a consideration that comes home to our interest” (Addison): see also Index to Globe Shakespeare.

263. waking bliss, as opposed to the ecstatic slumber induced by the song of Circe.

265. Hail, foreign wonder! Warton notes that Comus is universally allowed to have taken some of its tints from the Tempest, and quotes, “O you wonder! If you be maid, or no?” i. 2. 426.

266. certain: see note, l. 246.

267. Unless the goddess, etc. = unless thou be the goddess that in rural shrine dwells here. Here, as often in Latin, we have ‘unless’ (Lat. nisi, etc.) used with a single word instead of a clause: and, also as in Latin, the verb in the relative clause has the person of the antecedent.

268. Pan or Sylvan: see l. 176: also Il Pens. 134, “shadows brown that Sylvan loves,” and Arc. 106, “Though Syrinx your Pan’s mistress were.” Sylvanus, the god of fields and forests, as denoted by his name which is corrupted from Silvan (Lat. silva, a wood).

269. Forbidding, etc. These lines recall the language of Arcades, in which also a lady is complimented as “a deity,” “a rural Queen,” and “mistress of yon princely shrine” in the land of Pan. There is a reference also to her protecting the woods through her servant, the Genius: Arc. 36-53, 91-95.

271. ill is lost. A Latin idiom (as Keightley points out) = male perditur: Prof. Masson, however, would regard it as equivalent to “there is little loss in losing.”

273. extreme shift; last resource. Comp. l. 617.

274. my severed company: a condensed expression = the companions separated from me. Comp. l. 315: this figure of speech is called Synecdoche.

277. What chance, etc. In lines 277-290 we have a reproduction of that form of dialogue employed in Greek tragedy in which question and answer occupy alternate lines: it is called stichomythia, and is admirable when there is a gradual rise in excitement towards the end (as in the Supplices of Euripides). In Samson Agonistes, which is modelled on the Greek pattern, Milton did not employ it.

278. An alliterative line.

279. near ushering, closely attending. To usher is to introduce (Lat. ostium, a door).

284. twain: thus frequently used as a predicate. It is also used after its substantive as in Lyc. 110, “of metals twain,” and as a substantive.

285. forestalling, anticipating. ‘Forestall,’ originally a marketing term, is to buy up goods before they have been displayed at a stall in the market in order to sell them again at a higher price: hence ‘to anticipate.’ prevented. ‘Prevent,’ now used in the sense of ‘hinder,’ seems in this line to have something of its older meaning, viz., to anticipate (in which case ‘forestalling’ would be proleptic). Comp. l. 362; Par. Lost, vi. 129, “half-way he met His daring foe, at this prevention more Incensed.”

286. to hit. This is the gerundial infinitive after an adjective: comp. “good to eat,” “deadly to hear,” etc.

287. Imports their loss, etc.: ‘Apart from the present emergency, is the loss of them important?’

289. manly prime, etc.: ‘Were they in the prime of manhood, or were they merely youths?’ With Milton the ‘prime of manhood’ is where ‘youth’ ends: comp. Par. Lost, xi. 245, “prime in manhood where youth ended”; iii. 636, “a stripling Cherub he appears, Not of the prime, yet such as in his face Youth smiled celestial.” Spenser has ‘prime’ = Spring.

290. Hebe, the goddess of youth. “The down of manhood” had not appeared on the lips of the brothers.

291. what time: common in poetry for ‘when’ (Lat. quo tempore). Compare Horace, Od. iii. 6: “what time the sun shifted the shadows of the mountains, and took the yokes from the wearied oxen.” laboured: wearied with labour.

292. loose traces. Because no longer taut from the draught of the plough.

293. swinked, overcome with toil, fatigued (A.S. swincan, to toil). Skeat points out that this was once an extremely common word; the sense of toil is due to that of constant movement from the swinging of the labourer’s arms. In Chaucer ‘swinker’ = ploughman.

294. mantling, spreading. To mantle is strictly to cloak or cover: comp. Temp. v. 1. 67, “fumes that mantle Their clearer reason.”

297. port, bearing, mien.

298. faery. This spelling is nearer to that of the M.E. faerie than the current form.

299. the element; the air. Since the time of the Greek philosopher Empedocles, fire, earth, air, and water have been popularly called the four elements; when used alone, however, ‘the element’ commonly means ‘the air.’ Comp. Hen. V. iv. 1. 107, “The element shows him as it doth to me”; Par. Lost, ii. 490, “the louring element Scowls o’er the darkened landscape snow or shower,” etc.

301. plighted, interwoven or plaited. The verb ‘plight’ (or more properly plite) is a variant of plait: see Il Pens. 57, “her sweetest saddest plight.” The word has no connection with ‘plight,’ l. 372. awe-strook. Milton uses three forms of the participle, viz. ‘strook,’ ‘struck,’ and ‘strucken.’

302. worshiped. The final consonant is now doubled in such verbs before -ed.

303. were = would be: subjunctive. like the path to Heaven; i.e. it would be a pleasure to help, etc. There is (probably) no allusion to the Scripture parable of the narrow and difficult way to Heaven (Matt. vii.) as in Son. ix., “labours up the hill of heavenly Truth.”

304. help you find: comp. l. 623. The simple infinitive is here used without to where to would now be inserted. This omission of the preposition now occurs with so few verbs that ‘to’ is often called the sign of the infinitive, but in Early English the only sign of the infinitive was the termination en (e.g. he can speken). The infinitive, being used as a noun, had a dative form called the gerund, which was preceded by the preposition to, and when this became confused with the simple infinitive the use of to became general. Comp. Son. xx. 4, “Help waste a sullen day.”

305. readiest way. Here ‘readiest’ logically belongs to the predicate.

311. each ... every: see note, l. 19. alley, a walk or avenue.

312. Dingle ... bushy dell ... bosky bourn. ‘Dingle’ = dimble (see Ben Jonson’s Sad Shepherd) = dimple = a little dip or depression; hence a narrow valley. ‘Dell’ = dale, literally a cleft; hence a valley, not so deep as a dingle. ‘Bosky bourn,’ a stream whose banks are bushy or thickly grown with bushes. ‘Bourn,’ a boundary, is a distinct word etymologically, but the phrase “from side to side,” as used by Comus, might well imply that the valley as well as the stream is here referred to. ‘Bosky,’ bushy. The noun ‘boscage’ = jungle or bush (M.E. busch, bush, bush). ‘See Tennyson’s Dream of F. W. 243, “the sombre boscage of the wood.”

315. stray attendance = strayed attendants; abstract for concrete, as in line 274. Comp. Par. Lost, x. 80, “Attendance none shall need, nor train”; xii. 132, “Of herds, and flocks, and numerous servitude” (= servants).

316. shroud, etc. Milton first wrote “within these shroudie limits”: see note, l. 147.

317. low-roosted lark, i.e. the lark that has roosted on the ground. This is certainly Milton’s meaning, as he refers to the bird as rising from its “thatched pallet” = its nest, which is built on the ground. ‘Roost’ has, however, no radical connection with rest, but denotes a perch for fowls, and Keightley’s remark that Milton is guilty of supposing the lark to sleep, like a hen, upon a perch or roost, may therefore be noticed. But the poets’ meaning is obvious. Prof. Masson takes ‘thatched’ as referring to the texture of the nest or to the corn-stalks or rushes over it.

318. rouse. Here used intransitively = awake.

322. honest-offered: see notes, ll. 36, 228.

323. sooner, more readily.

324. tapestry halls. Halls hung with tapestry, tapestry being “a kind of carpet work, with wrought figures, especially used for decorating walls.” The word is said to be from the Persian.

325. first was named. The meaning is: ‘Courtesy which is derived from court, and which is still nominally most common in high life, is nevertheless most readily found amongst those of humble station.’ This sentiment is becoming in the mouth of Lady Alice when addressed to a humble shepherd. ‘Courtesy’ (or, as Milton elsewhere writes, courtship) has, like civility, lost much of its deeper significance. Comp. Spenser, F. Q. vi. 1. 1:

327. less warranted, i.e. when I have less guarantee of safety. Guarantee and warrant, like guard and ward, guile and wile, are radically the same.

329. Eye me, i.e. look on me. To eye a person now usually implies watching narrowly or suspiciously. square, accommodate, adjust. The adj. ‘proportioned’ is here used proleptically, denoting the result of the action indicated by the verb ‘square.’ Comp. M. for M. v. 1: “Thou ’rt said to have a stubborn soul, ... And squar’st thy life accordingly.” Exeunt, i.e. they go out, they leave the stage.

331. Unmuffle, uncover yourselves. To muffle is to cover up, e.g. ‘to muffle the throat,’ ‘a muffled sound,’ etc. Muffle (subst.) is a diminutive of muff.

332. wont’st, i.e. art wont. Wont’st is here apparently the 2nd person singular, present tense, of a verb to wont = to be accustomed; hence also the participle wonted (Il Pens. 37, “keep thy wonted state”). But the M.E. verb was wonen, to dwell or be accustomed, and its participle woned or wont. The fact that wont was a participle being forgotten, it was treated as a distinct verb, and a new participle formed, viz., wonted (= won-ed-ed); from this again comes the noun wontedness. Milton, however, uses wont as a present only twice in his poetry: as in modern English he uses it as a noun (= custom) or as a participial adj. with the verb to be (Il Pens. 123, “As she was wont”). benison, blessing: radically the same as ‘benediction’ (Lat. benedictio).

333. Stoop thy pale visage, etc. Comp. l. 1023 and Il Pens. 72, “Stooping through a fleecy cloud.” ‘Visage,’ a word now mostly used with a touch of contempt, in Milton simply denotes ‘face’: see Il Pens. 13, “saintly visage”; Lyc. 62, “His gory visage down the stream was sent.” amber: comp. L’Alleg. 61, “Robed in flames and amber light,” and Tennyson:

334. disinherit, drive out, dispossess. Comp. Two Gent. iii. 2. 87, “This or else nothing, will inherit (i.e. obtain possession of) her.”

336. Influence ... dammed up. The verb here shows that influence is employed in its strict sense, = a flowing in (Lat. in and fluo): it was thus used in astrology to denote “an influent course of the planets, their virtue being infused into, or their course working on, inferior creatures”; comp. L’Alleg. 112, “whose bright eyes Rain influence”; Par. Lost, iv. 669, “with kindly heat Of various influence.” Astrology has left many traces upon the English language, e.g. influence, disastrous, ill-starred, ascendant, etc. See also l. 360.

337. taper; here a vocative, the verb being “visit (thou).”

338. though a rush candle, i.e. ‘though it be only a rush-candle’; a rush light, obtained from the pith of a rush dipped in oil.

340. long levelled rule; straight horizontal beam of light: comp. Par. Lost, iv. 543, “the setting sun ... Levelled his evening rays.” The instrument with which straight lines are drawn is called a rule or ruler.

341. star of Arcady Or Tyrian Cynosure; here put by synecdoche for ‘lode-star.’ More particularly, the star of Arcady signifies any of the stars in the constellation of the Great Bear, by which Greek sailors steered; and ‘Tyrian Cynosure’ signifies the stars comprising that part of the constellation of the Lesser Bear which, from its shape, was called Cynosura, the dog’s tail (Greek κυνὸς οὐρά), and by which Phoenician or Tyrian sailors steered. See L’Alleg. 80, “The cynosure of neighbouring eyes,” where the word is used as a common noun = point of attraction. Both constellations are connected in Greek mythology with the Arcadian nymph Callisto, who was turned by Zeus into the Great Bear while her son Arcas became the Lesser Bear. Milton follows the Roman poets in associating these stars with Arcadia on this account.

343. barred, debarred or barred from.

344. wattled cotes: enclosures made of hurdles, i.e. frames of plaited twigs. Cote, cot, and coat are varieties of the same word = a covering or enclosure.

345. oaten stops: see Lyc. 33, “the oaten flute”; 88, “But now my oat proceeds”; 188, “the tender stops of various quills.” The shepherd’s pipe, being at first a row of oaten stalks, “the oaten pipe,” “oat,” etc., came to denote any instrument of this kind and even to signify “pastoral poetry.” The ‘stops’ are the holes over which the player’s fingers are placed, also called vent-holes or “ventages” (Ham. iii. 2. 372). See also note on ‘azurn,’ l. 893.

346. whistle ... lodge, i.e. the sound of the shepherd calling his dog by whistling. Or it may be used in the same sense as in L’Alleg. 63, “the ploughman whistles o’er the furrowed land.”

347. Count ... dames: comp. L’Alleg. 52, “the cock ... Stoutly struts his dames before”; 114, “Ere the first cock his matin rings.” Grammatically, ‘count’ (infinitive) forms with ‘cock’ the complex object of ‘might hear.’

349. innumerous, innumerable (Lat. innumerus). Comp. Par. Lost, vii. 455, “Innumerous living creatures”; ix. 1089.

350. hapless, unfortunate. Many words, such as happy, lucky, fortunate, etc., which strictly refer to a person’s hap or chance, whether good or bad, have become restricted to good hap: in order to give them an unfavourable meaning a negative prefix or suffix is necessary.

With reference to the word fortune, Max Müller says: “We speak of good and evil fortune, so did the French, and so did the Romans. By itself fortuna was taken either in a good or a bad sense, though it generally meant good fortune. Whenever there could be any doubt, the Romans defined fortuna by such adjectives as bona, secunda, prospera, for good; mala or adversa for bad fortune ... Fortuna came to mean something like chance.”

351. her, herself. On the reflexive use of her, see note, l. 163.

352. burs; burrs, prickly seed-vessels of certain plants, e.g. the burr-thistle, the burdock (= the burr-dock), etc.

355. leans. As Milton frequently omits the nominative, we may supply she: otherwise leans would be intransitive and its nominative ‘head’: see note, l. 715. fraught, freighted, filled. Freight is itself a later form of fraught: in Sams. Agon., 1075, fraught is a noun (Ger. fracht, a load). See line 732.