The Complete Poetry of John Milton (33 page)

   495     
The huddling
⁵⁰
brook to hear his madrigal,

               
And sweeten’d every muskrose of the dale,

               
How cam’st thou heer good Swain? hath any ram

               
Slip’t from his fold, or young Kid lost his dam,

               
Or straggling weather the pen’t flock forsook?

   500     
How couldst thou find this dark sequester’d nook?

           
      
       
Spirit.
O my lov’d maisters heir, and his next joy,

               
I came not heer on such a trivial toy

               
As a stray’d ewe, or to pursue the stealth

               
Of pilfering wolf, not all the fleecy wealth

   505     
That doth enrich these downs, is worth a thought

               
To this my errand, and the care it brought.

               
But O my virgin Lady, where is she?

               
How chance she is not in your company?

           
      
       
Elder Brother.
To tell thee sadly shepherd, without blame,

   510     
Or our neglect, we lost her as we came.

           
      
       
Spirit.
Ay me unhappy! then my fears are true.

           
      
       
Elder Brother.
What fears good
Thyrsis?
Prethee breifly shew.

           
      
       
Spirit.
Ile tell you. Tis not vain, or fabulous,

               
(Though so esteem’d by shallow ignorance)

   515     
What the sage poets taught by th’ heav’nly Muse,

               
Storied of old in high immortal vers

               
Of dire
Chimeras
and inchanted Iles,

               
And rifted rocks whose entrance leads to hell,

               
For such there be, but unbeleif is blind.

   520  
      
       Within the navil
⁵¹
of this hideous wood,

               
Immur’d in cypress shades a sorcerer dwells

               
Of
Bacchus
and of
Circe
born, great
Comus
,

               
Deep skill’d in all his mothers witcheries,

               
And heer to every thirsty wanderer

   525     
By sly enticement gives his banefull cup,

               
With many murmurs mixt, whose pleasing poison

               
The visage quite transforms of him that drinks,

               
And the inglorious likenes of a beast

               
Fixes instead, unmoulding reasons mintage
⁵²

   530     
Character’d in the face; this have I learn’t

               
Tending my flocks hard by i’th hilly crofts

               
That brow this bottom glade, whence night by night

               
He and his monstrous rout are heard to howl

               
Like stabl’d wolves, or tigers at thir prey,

   535     
Doing abhorred rites to
Hecate

               
In thir obscured haunts of inmost bowrs.

               
Yet have they many baits, and guilefull spells

               
T’ inveigle and invite th’ unwary sense

               
Of them that pass unweeting
⁵³
by the way.

   540     
This evening late by then the chewing flocks

               
Had tane thir supper on the savoury herb

               
Of Knot-grass dew-besprent, and were in fold,

               
I sate me down to watch upon a bank

               
With ivy canopied, and interwove

   545     
With flaunting honiesuckle, and began

               
Wrapt in a pleasing fit of melancholy
⁵⁴

               
To meditate my rural minstrelsie,

               
Till fancy had her fill, but ere a close
⁵⁵

               
The wonted roar was up amidst the woods,

   550     
And fill’d the air with barbarous dissonance,

               
At which I ceas’t, and listen’d them a while,

               
Till an unusuall stop of sudden silence

               
Gave respit to the drowsie frighted steeds

               
That draw the litter of close-curtain’d sleep.

   555     
At last a soft and solemn breathing sound

               
Rose like a steam of rich distill’d perfumes

               
And stole upon the air, that even silence

               
Was took e’re she was ware, and wish’t she might

               
Deny her nature, and be never more

   560     
Still to be so displac’t. I was all ear,

               
And took in strains that might create a soul

               
Under the ribs of Death, but O ere long

               
Too well I did perceave it was the voice

               
Of my most honour’d Lady, your dear sister.

   565     
Amaz’d I stood, harrow’d with greif and fear,

               
And O poor hapless nightingale thought I,

               
How sweet thou sing’st, how neer the deadly snare!

               
Then down the lawns I ran with headlong hast

               
Through paths and turnings oft’n trod by day,

   570     
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,
⁵⁶

               
The aidless innocent Lady his wisht prey,

   575     
Who gently askt if he had seen such two,

               
Supposing him som neighbour villager;

               
Longer I durst not stay, but soon I gues’t

               
Ye were the two she meant; with that I sprung

               
Into swift flight, till I had found you heer,

   580     
But furder know I not.

           
      
       
2 Brother.
      O night and shades,

               
How are ye joyn’d with hell in triple knot

               
Against th’ unarmed weakness of one virgin

               
Alone, and helpless! Is this the confidence

               
You gave me brother?

           
      
       
Elder Brother.
      Yes, and keep it still,

   585     
Lean on it safely, not a period
⁵⁷

               
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,

               
Vertue may be assail’d, but never hurt,

   590     
Surpris’d by unjust force, but not enthrall’d,

               
Yea even that which mischeif meant most harm

               
Shall in the happy trial prove most glory.

               
But evil on it self shall back recoyl,

               
And mix no more with goodness, when at last

   595     
Gather’d like scum, and setl’d to it self

               
It shall be in eternal restless change

               
Self-fed, and self-consum’d; if this fail,

               
The pillar’d firmament is rott’nness,

               
And earths base built on stubble. But com let’s on.

   600     
Against th’ opposing will and arm of Heav’n

               
May never this just sword be lifted up,

               
But for that damn’d magician, let him be girt

               
With all the greisly legions that troop

               
Under the sooty flag of
Acheron
,

   605     
Harpies
and
Hydras
, or all the monstrous buggs
⁵⁸

               
’Twixt
Africa
and
Inde.
Ile find him out,

               
And force him to restore his purchase
⁵⁹
back,

               
Or drag him by the curls and cleave his scalp

               
Down to the hipps.

           
      
       Spirit.       Alas good ventrous youth,

   610     
I love thy courage yet, and bold emprise,
⁶⁰

               
But heer thy sword can do thee little stead;

               
Farr other arms and other weapons must

               
Be those that quell the might of hellish charms,

               
He with his bare wand can unthred thy joynts,

   615     
And crumble all thy sinews.

           
      
       
Elder Brother.
      Why prethee shepherd,

               
How durst thou then thy self approach so neer

               
As to make this relation?

           
      
       
Spirit.
      Care and utmost shifts

               
How to secure the Lady from surprisal

               
Brought to my mind a certain shepherd lad

   620     
Of small regard to see to, yet well skill’d

               
In every vertuous
⁶¹
plant and healing herb

               
That spreds her verdant leaf to th’ morning ray;

               
He lov’d me well, and oft would beg me sing,

               
Which when I did, he on the tender grass

   625     
Would sit and hearken ev’n to extasie,

               
And in requitall ope his leathern scrip,

               
And shew me simples
⁶²
of a thousand names

               
Telling thir strange and vigorous faculties;

               
Amongst the rest a small unsightly root,

   630     
But of divine effect, he cull’d me out;

               
The leaf was darkish, and had prickles on it,

               
But in another country, as he said,

               
Bore a bright golden flowr, but not in this soyl:

               
Unknown, and like esteem’d, and the dull swayn

   635     
Treads on it dayly with his clouted shoon,
⁶³

               
And yet more med’cinal is it then that
Moly

               
Which
Hermes
once to wise
Ulysses
gave;
⁶⁴

               
He call’d it
Hæmony
, and gave it me,

               
And bad me keep it as of sovran use

   640     
’Gainst all inchantments, mildew blast, or damp

               
Or gastly Furies apparition;

               
I purs’t it up, but little reck’ning made,

               
Till now that this extremity compell’d,

               
But now I find it true; for by this means