What the sage poets, taught by the heavenly Muse,
Storied of old, in high immortal verse,

Of dire chimeras, and enchanted isles,

And rifted rocks whose entrance leads to hell";
For such there be; but unbelief is blind.

Within the navel of this hideous wood,
Immured in cypress shades, a sorcerer dwells,
Of Bacchus and of Circe born, great Comus,
Deep skill'd in all his mother's witcheries;
And here to every thirsty wanderer

By sly enticement gives his baneful cup,

With many murmurs mix'd, whose pleasing poison
The visage quite transforms of him that drinks,

And the inglorious likeness of a beast

Fixes instead ", unmoulding reason's mintage

Storied of old, in high immortal verse,

Of dire chimeras, and enchanted isles,

And rifted rocks whose entrance leads to hell.

513

520

523

The "chimeras dire" of ancient verse have passed away from popular belief; not so the "enchanted isles," and the "rifted rocks," whose entrance leads to perdition; the former are to be found in Scandinavian song; and, not to go farther, the volcanic mountains not inaptly support a belief in the existence of the latter. The old Danish ballad of Saint Oluf relates how the devout hero conquered the Jutt and the elves of Hornclumner, and transformed them into rocks and stones, forms which they still keep. Other instances might be given from both tale and song. That Etna was till lately believed to be one of the entrances to Satan's realms is sufficiently intimated by a northern tradition, which relates, that on the very day and hour in which an eminent British statesman died, a traveller was startled with the vision of a coach and six galloping full speed up the burning mountain: as the pageant swept past, he heard a voice exclaim, "Ho! make way for his grace of Q-." In this way the poetic peasantry of the north avenged themselves on a nobleman, whose actions were not to their mind.-C.

Within the navel.

That is, in the midst; a phrase borrowed from the Greeks and Latins.-NEWTON. With many murmurs mix'd.

That is, in preparing this enchanted cup, the charm of many barbarous unintelligible words was intermixed, to quicken and strengthen its operation.-WARBURTON. The visage quite transforms of him that drinks,

And the inglorious likeness of a beast

Fixes instead.

The cup of Circe is now dry, and her enchantments are despised; nor have we any drink in traditionary belief which rivals the "pleasing poison" of the goddess. We have something almost equivalent: an ointment belongs to the fairies, which opens mortal eyes to things immortal, and shows the spirits of good and evil that watch over man. Our witches too have magic staves and magic words, which can transform a hare into a horse, or a ragwort into a pony: nay, one of them, as the legend relates, inherited a magic bridle of such wondrous powers, that when she chose to shake it over a man's head, he instantly became a steed, and an obedient one, to carry her on her midnight errands. This gifted dame had two servant lads, one lean, the other fat: on the latter upbraiding the former with the humility of his appearance, he answered,-"Lie at the bed stock, and ye will be lean too." The exchange was made; at midnight the beldame approached with her bridle; and before he could mutter an averting prayer, he was transformed into a horse, and compelled to bear her over stock and stone to an assembly of sister hags. By prayer and exertion he freed himself from the bridle, and, restored to his own shape, awaited the return of his mistress: before she was aware, he shook the bridle over her head, transformed her to a palfrey, and switched her mercilessly through "dub and mire." The adventure ended in a compromise; the witch became kindly and tolerant, and never employed the enchanted bridle on man again.-C.

Character'd in the face1: this have I learn'd,
Tending my flocks hard by in the hilly crofts,
That brow this bottom-glade; whence night by night
He and his monstrous rout are heard to howl3,
Like stabled wolves, or tigers at their prey,
Doing abhorred rites to Hecate

In their obscured haunts of inmost bowers.
Yet have they many baits and guileful spells,
To inveigle and invite the unwary sense
Of them that pass unweeting by the way.
This evening late, by then the chewing flocks
Had ta'en their supper' on the savoury herb
Of knot-grass dew-besprent, and were in fold,
I sat me down to watch upon a bank
With ivy canopied, and interwove
With flaunting honey-suckle"; and began,
Wrapp'd in a pleasing fit of melancholy,
To meditate my rural minstrelsy",
Till fancy had her fill; but, ere a close,
The wonted roar was up amidst the woods,
And fill'd the air with barbarous dissonance;
At which I ceased, and listen'd them a while,

Character'd in the face.

530

535

540

545

530

So, in his 'Divorce,' b. i. pref. :-"A law not only written by Moses, but charactered in us by nature."-T. WARTON.

He and his monstrous rout are heard to howl, &c.

Such was the practice of Comus's mother, Circe. Ovid, Met. xiv. 405:—

Magicis Hecaten ululatibus orat.-TODD.

Like stabled wolves, or tigers at their prey.

Perhaps from Virgil, Æn. vii. 15, of Circe's island:

Hinc exaudiri gemitus, iræque leonum,

- ac formæ magnorum ululare luporum

Quos hominum ex facie Dea sæva potentibus herbis

Induerat Circe in vultus ac terga ferarum.-NEWTON,

1 Had ta'en their supper, &c.

The supper of the sheep is from a beautiful comparison in Spenser, "Faerie Qu."

1. i. 23:

As gentle shepheard in sweete eventide,

When ruddy Phebus gins to welke in west,

High on a hill, his flocke to vewen wide,

Markes which doe byte their hasty supper best.-T. WARTON.

With ivy canopied, and interwove

With flaunting honey-suckle.

Perhaps from Shakspeare, "Mids. Night's Dr." a. ii. s. 2 :—
Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine.-T. WARTON.

A musical close on his pipe. As in Shakspeare," K. Rich. II." a. ii. §. 1

The setting sun, and music at the close;

As the last taste of sweets is sweetest last.-T. WARTON.

Till an unusual stop of sudden silence
Gave respite to the drowsy frighted steeds ',
That draw the litter of close-curtain'd sleep":
At last a soft and solemn-breathing sound
Rose like a stream of rich distill'd perfumes,
And stole upon the air, that even Silence"
Was took ere she was ware, and wish'd she might
Deny her nature, and be never more,

Still to be so displaced. I was all ear',
And took in strains that might create a soul
Under the ribs of death": but, O! ere long,

P The drowsy frighted steeds, &c.

555

560

I read, according to Milton's manuscript, "drowsy-flighted:" and this genuine reading Dr. Dalton has also preserved in 'Comus." "Drowsie frighted" is nonsense, and manifestly an error of the press in all the editions. There can be no doubt, that in this passage Milton had his eye upon the description of night, in "K. Hen. VI." p. II. a. iv. s. 1:—

And now loud-howling wolves arouse the jades

That drag the tragic melancholy night,

Who with their drowsy, slow, and flagging wings
Clip dead men's graves.

The idea and the expression of "drowsie-flighted" in the one, are plainly copied from their drowsy, slow, and flagging wings in the other.-NawTON.

It must be allowed, that "drowsie-flighted" is a very harsh combination. Notwithstanding the Cambridge manuscript exhibits "drowsie-flighted," yet "drowsie frighted" without a composition, is a more rational and easy reading, and invariably occurs in the editions 1637, 1645, and 1673. That is, "the drowsy steeds of Night, who were affrighted on this occasion, at the barbarous dissonance of Čomus's nocturnal revelry." Milton made the emendation after he had forgot his first idea.-T. WARTON. 4 Close-curtain'd sleep.

Perhaps from Shakspeare, "Macbeth," a. ii. s. 1:—

And wicked dreams abuse

The curtain'd sleep.-THYER.

▾ At last a soft and solemn-breathing sound, &e.

Shakspeare's "Twelfth Night," at the beginning, has here been alleged by Mr. Thyer. The idea is strongly implied in the following lines from Jonson's "Vision of Delight," a Mask presented at Court in the Christmas of 1617 :

66

Yet let it like an odour rise

To all the senses here;

And fall like sleep upon their eyes,

Or musicke in their eare.

But the thought appeared before, where it is exquisitely expressed, in Bacon's Essays:"And because the breath of flowers is farre sweeter in the aire, where it comes and goes like the warbling of musicke." Of Gardens, Ess. xlvi.—T. WARTON.

That even Silence, &c.

Silence was pleased at the nightingale's song, 'Par. Lost,' b. iv. 604. The conceit in both passages is unworthy the poet.-T. WARTON.

I was all ear.

So Catullus of a rich perfume, "Carm." xiii. 13:

Quod tu cum olfacies, Deos rogabis

Totum ut te faciant, Fabulle, nasum.

So Shakspeare, "Winter's Tale," a. iv. s. 3:-" All their other senses stuck in their ears :” and, in the "Tempest," Prospero says, "No tongues; all eyes; be silent.”— T. WARTON.

"That might create a soul

Under the ribs of death.

The general image of creating a soul by harmony is again from Shakspeare: but the

Too well I did perceive it was the voice

Of my most honour'd Lady, your dear sister.
Amazed I stood, harrow'd with grief and fear,
And, O poor hapless nightingale, thought I,

563

How sweet thou sing'st, how near the deadly snare!
Then down the lawns I ran with headlong haste,
Through paths and turnings often trod by day;
Till, guided by mine ear, I found the place,
Where that damn'd wisard, hid in sly disguise
(For so by certain signs I knew), had met
Already, ere my best speed could prevent,
The aidless innocent Lady, his wish'd prey;
Who gently ask'd if he had seen such two,
Supposing him some neighbour villager.
Longer I durst not stay, but soon I guess'd
Ye were the two she meant; with that I sprung
Into swift flight, till I had found you here;
But farther know I not.

Sec. Br.
O night, and shades!
How are ye join'd with hell in triple knot
Against the unarm'd weakness of one virgin,
Alone and helpless! Is this the confidence
You gave me, brother?

El. Br.

Yes, and keep it still";
Lean on it safely; not a period

Shall be unsaid for me: against the threats
Of malice, or of sorcery, or that power

Which erring men call chance, this I hold firm;—
Virtue may be assail'd, but never hurt;
Surprised by unjust force, but not enthrall'd;

Yea, even that, which mischief meant most harm,
Shall in the happy trial prove most glory:
But evil on itself shall back recoil,

And mix no more with goodness; when at last,
Gather'd like scum, and settled to itself,
It shall be in eternal restless change

particular one of "a soul under the ribs of death," which is extremely grotesque, is taken from a picture in Alciat's "Emblems," where a soul in the figure of an infant is represented within the ribs of a skeleton, as in its prison. This curious picture is presented by Quarles.-WARBURTON.

The picture alluded to is not taken from Alciat's "Emblems," but from Herman Hugo's "Pia Desideria;" and is the eighth; "Suspirium animæ amantis."-TODD. ▾ Harrow'd with grief and fear.

To "harrow" is to conquer, to subdue. The word is of Saxon origin. Thus Shakspeare, "Hamlet," a. i. s. 1:-"It harrows me with fear and wonder."-STEEVENS. "Yes, and keep it still, &c.

This confidence of the Elder Brother in favour of the final efficacy of virtue holds forth a very high strain of philosophy, delivered in as high strains of cloquence and poetry.-T. WARTON.

It exhibits the sublimer sentiments of the Christian. Religion here gave energy to the poet's strains.-TODD.

Self-fed and self-consumed: if this fail,

The pillar'd firmament is rottenness,

And earth's base built on stubble'.-But come; let's on.

Against the opposing will and arm of Heaven

May never this just sword be lifted up!

But for that damn'd magician, let him be girt
With all the grisly legions that troop
Under the sooty flag of Acheron,

Harpies and hydras, or all the monstrous forms"
"Twixt Africa and Ind, I'll find him out,
And force him to return his purchase back,
Or drag him by the curls to a foul death,
Cursed as his life.

Spir.

Alas! good venturous youth,

I love thy courage yet, and bold emprise;
But here thy sword can do thee little stead;
Far other arms and other weapons must

Be those, that quell the might of hellish charms":
He with his bare wand can unthread thy joints,
And crumble all thy sinews.

El. Br.

Why, pr'ythee, shepherd,

600

605

610

615

* Self-fed and self-consumed.

This image is wonderfully fine. It is taken from the conjectures of astronomers concerning the dark spots which from time to time appear on the surface of the sun's body, and after a while disappear again; which they suppose to be the scum of that fiery matter, which first breeds it, and then breaks through and consumes it.-WARBURTON.

▼ If this fail,

The pillar'd firmament is rottenness,

And earth's base built on stubble.

This is Shakspeare's thought, but in more exalted language, "Wint. Tale,"

a. ii. s. 1

If I mistake

In those foundations which I build upon,

The centre is not big enough to bear

A schoolboy's top.-STEEVENS.

The sooty flag of Acheron.

Compare P. Fletcher's "Locusts," 1627, p. 58:

All hell run out, and sooty flagges display -TODD.

Harpies and hydras, &c.

Harpies and hydras are a combination in an enumeration of monsters, in Sylvester's "Du Bart." p. 206, fol. :

And the ugly Gorgons, and the sphinxes fell,

Hydras and harpies, &c.-T. WARTON.

The might of hellish charms.

Compare Shakspeare's "King Richard III." a. iii. s. 4 :—

With devilish plots

Of damned witchcraft; and that have prevail'd

Upon my body with their hellish charms.-T. WARTON.

He with his bare wand can unthread thy joints,

And crumble all thy sinews.

So, in Prospero's commands to Ariel, "Tempest," a. iv. s. ult. :

Go, charge my goblins, that they grind their joints
With dry convulsions, shorten up their sinews

With aged cramps.-T. WARTON.