A tough encounter with the shaggies! That lurks by hedge or lane of this dead circuit,

[suer To have her by my side, though I were She might be free from perill where she is, But, where an equal poise of hope and feare, &c.

After v. 631, the six lines which follow in the printed copy are not in this MS. Ver. 647. Thirsis, lead on apace, I followe thee.

In the STAGE-DIRECTION after v. 658, soft music is not mentioned in this MS.

Ver. 678. To life soe friendly, or soe coole' to' thirst;

Poore ladie, thou hast need of some refreshinge,

That hast been tired aldaye without repast,

A timely rest hast wanted. heere, fayre virgin,

This will restore all soone. After v. 696, the four lines which follow in the printed copy are not in this MS.

Ver. 709. Praisinge the leane and shallow Absti

nence.

den strength.

Ver. 426. Noe salvage, feirce bandite, or moun

taneere.

In the manuscript a comma is placed both after salvage and feirce: the former may be retain

ed; and we might read fierce bandite, instead of savage fierce in the printed copies. And thus Pope, Essay on Man, Ep. iv. v. 41. No bandit fierce, no tyrant mad with pride. Ver. 428. Yea even, where very desolac" on dwells

By grots and caverns shag'd with horrid shades,

And yawninge denns,where glaringemonsters house.

Ver. 432. Naye more, noe evill thinge that walks by night.

Ver. 437. Has hurtefull power ore true virginitie:

Doe you beleeve me yet, &c.

Ver. 448. The wise Minerva wore, vnconquer'd virgin.

Ver. 460. Begins to cast a beam on th' outward

shape.

Ver. 465. And most by lewde lascivious act of sin. Ver. 472. Hoveringe, and sitting by a new made grave.

STAGE DIRECTION after v. 489. "He hallowes and is answered, the guardian dæmon comes in, habited like a shepheard."

Ver. 497. How cam'st here, good shepheard? hath any ram, &c.

Ver. 513. Ile tell you, tis not vain or fabulous. Ver. 555. At last a sweele and solemne breathinge sound,

Bose like the softe steame of distill'd perfumes,

And stole vpon the aire. These variations present this charming passage, I think, with as strong effect as the other copies. Ver. 563. Too well I might perceive &c. Ver. 581. How are you joyn'd with Hell in triple

Ver. 732. The sea orefraught would swell, and th' vnsought diamonds

Would soe emblaze with starrs, that they belowe

Would growe enur'd to light, and come

at last

To gaze vpon the sunn with shameless browes.

The transcriber's eye here perhaps hastily passed from emblaze to with starrs, which, in the printed copies, the succeeding line presents. See Com. y. 733, 734. The next nineteen lines in the printed copies, after browes, viz. from v. 736, to v. 756, are not in this MS.

Ver. 758. Would thinke to charme my judgment, as my eyes.

Ver. 772. Nature's full blessinge would be well dispenst.

Ver. 777.

Ne'er looks to Heav'n amidst his gorgeous feasts.

But with besotted base ingratitude Crams, and blaspheames his feeder. After feeder the following lines in the printed copies, viz. from v. 779, to v. 806, are not in this MS.

Ver. 810. And setlinge of a melancholy bloud. STAGE-DIRECTION after v. 813.

"The brothers

rushe in with swords drawne, wrest his glasse of liquor out of his hand, and brake it against the ground; his rowte make signe of resistance, but are all driven in, the Demon is to come in with the brothers."

Ver. 814. What, have yee let the false enchaunter scape?

Ver. 821. Some other meanes I have that may be vsed.

Ver. 828.

Whoe had the scepter from his father

Brute.

Ver. 847. is wanting in this MS.

STAGE-DIRECTION after v. 866. "The verse to singe or not."

Ver. 867. Listen, and appear to vs,

In name of greate Oceanus,

By th' Earth-shakinge Neptune's mace,
And Tethis grave majestick pace.

El. B. By hoarie Nereus wrincled looke,

And the Carpathian wizards hooke, 2 Bro. By scalie Tritons windinge shell, And ould sooth-saying Glaucus spell, El. B. By Lewcotheas lovely hands,

And her sonne that rules the strands, 2 Bro. By Thetis tinsel-slipper'd feete, And the songs of Sirens sweete, El. B. By dead Parthenopes deare tombe, And fayer Ligeas golden combe,

Wherewith she sitts on diamond rocks, Sleekinge her soft allureinge locks, Dem. By all the nimphes of nightly daunce, Vpon thy streames with wilie glaunce, Rise, rise, and heave thy rosie head, From thy corall paven bed, And bridle in thy headlonge gave, Till thou our summons answered have. Listen, and save.

The invocations, assigned to the Brothers in the preceding lines, are recited by the Spirit alone in all other copies of the poem. It is probable, that at Ludlow Castle, this part of the poem was sung; the four first lines perhaps as a trio; the rest by each performer separately.

Ver. 893. Thick set with agate, and the azur'd sheene.

Shakespeare has the "azur'd vault," Tempest,

A. v. S. i. And Greene, the "azur'd skye." Never too late, 1616, P. ii. p. 46. But Milton's own word is azurn. See the Note on Com.

V. 893.

Ver. 897. Thus I rest my printles feete
Ore the couslips head.

Ver. 907. Of vnblest inchaunters vile,
Ver. 911. Thus I sprinkle on this brest.
STAGE-DIRECTION after v. 937. "Songe ends,"
Ver. 938. El. Br. Come, Sister, while Heav'n
lends vs grace,

Let vs fly this cursed place, &c.
Dem. I shal be your faithfull guide

Through this gloomie covert wide, &c. Ver. 951. All the swaynes that neere abide, With jiggs and rural daunce resorte; Wee shall catch them at this sporte, &c.

El. B. Come, let vs hast, the starrs are high, But night sitts monarch yet in the mid skye, The Spirit again is the sole speaker of the nineteen preceding lines in the printed copy. STAGE-DIRECTION. "The Sceane changes, then is presented Ludlowe towne, and the Presi dent's Castle; then come in Countrie daunces and the like, &c. towards the end of these sports the demon with the 2 brothers and the ladye come in." Then

"The Spiritt singes."

Back, shepheards, back, &c.

Then "2 Songe presents them to their father and mother."

Noble Lord, and Lady bright, &c. STAGE-DIRECTION after v. 975. "They daunce, the daunces al ended, the Damon singes or sayes."

Now my taske is smoothly done,
I can flye, or I can run

Quickly to the earthe's greene end,
Where the bow'd welkin slow doeth bend,
And from thence can soare as soone
To the corners of the Moone.

Mortalls, that would follow me,
Love vertue; she alone is free:
She can teach you how to clyme
Higher than the sphearie chime!
Or if vertue feeble were,

Heven it selfe would stoope to her.

The Fpilogue, in this manuscript, has not the thirty-six preceding lines, which are in the printed copies. Twenty of them, however, as we have seen, open the drama. Like the Cambridge manuscript, this manuscript does not exhibit what, in the printed copies, relates to Adonis, and to Cupid and Psyche. The four charming verses also, which follow v. 983 in the printed copy, are not in the manuscript. TODD.

SONNETS. I.

TO THE NIGHTINGALE.
0
NIGHTINGALE, that on yon bloomy spray
Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still;

Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill,
While the jolly Hours lead on propitious May.
Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day,
First heard before the shallow cuckoo's bill,
Portend success in love; O, if Jove's will
Have link'd that amorous power to thy soft lay,
Now timely sing, ere the rude bird of hate

Foretel my hopeless doom in some grove nigh; As thou from year to year hast sung too late For my relief, yet hadst no reason why:

Whether the Muse, or Love, call thee his mate,
Both them I serve, and of their train am I.

II. .

DONNA leggiadra, il cui bel nome honora
L'herbosa val di Rheno, e il nobil varco;
Bene è colui d'ogni valore scarco
Qual tuo spirto gentil non innamora ;
Che dolcemente mostra si di fuora

De sui atti soavi giamai parco,

Ei don', che son d'amor saette ed arco,
La onde l'alta tua virtu s'infiora.

Quando tu vaga parli, o lieta canti

Che mover possa duro alpestre legno, Guardi ciascun a gli occhi, ed a gli orecch L'entrata, chi di te si trouva indegno; Gratia sola di su gli vaglia, inanti Che'l disio amoroso al cuor s'invecchi,

III.

QUAL in colle aspro, al imbrunir di sera
L'avezza giovinetta pastorella
Va bagnando l'herbetta strana e bella
Che mal si spande a disusata spera

RIDONSI donne e giovani amorosi

M' accostandosi attorno, e perche scrivi,
Perche tu scrivi in lingua ignota e strana
Verseggiando d' amor, e come t'osi?
Dinne, se la tua speme sia mai vana,
E de pensieri lo miglior t'arrivi;
Cosi mi van burlando, altri rivi
Altri lidi t'aspettan, ed altre. onde
Nelle cui verdi sponde

Spuntati ad hor, ad hor a la tua chioma
L'immortal guiderdon d' eterne frondi
Perche alle spalle tue soverchia soma?

Canzon dirotti, e tu per me rispondi
Dice mia Donna, e'l suo dir, é il mio cuore
Questa e lingua di cui si vanta Amore.
iv.

DIODATI, e te'l dirò con maraviglia,

Quel ritroso io ch'amor spreggiar soléa E de suoi lacci spesso mi ridéa Gia caddi, ov'huom dabben talhor s'impiglia. Ne treccie d'oro, ne guancia vermiglia M'abbaglian sì, ma sotto nova idea Pellegrina bellezza che'l cuor bea, Portamenti alti honesti, e nelle ciglia Quel sereno fulgor d'amabil nero,

Parole adorne di lingua piu d'una,
E'l cantar che di mezzo l'hemispero
Traviar ben puo la faticosa Luna,

E degli occhi suoi auventa si gran fuoco
Che l'incerar gli orecchi mi fia poco.

V.

PER certo i bei vostr'occhi, Donna mia
Esser non puo che non sian lo mio sole
Si mi percuoton forte, come ei suole
Per l'arene di Libia chi s'invia,
Mentre un caldo vapor (ne sentì pria),
Da quel lato si spinge ove mi duole,
Che forse amanti nelle lor parole
Chiaman sospir; io non so che si sia :
Parte ritichiusa, e turbida si cela

Scosso mi il petto, e poi n'uscendo poco
Quivi d' attorno o s'agghiaccia, o s'ingiela;
Ma quanto a gli occhi giunge a trovar loco
Tutte le notti a me suol far piovose
Finche mia Alba rivien colma di rose.
VI.

GIOVANE piano, e semplicette amante

Poi che fuggir me stesso in dubbio sono,
Madonna a voi del mio cuor l'humil dono
Farò divoto; io certo a prove tante,

ON HIS BEING ARRIVED TO the age of 23.

How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth,
Stol'n on his wing my three and twentieth year
My hasting days fly on with full career,
But my late spring no bud or blossom shew'th.
Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth,
That I to manhood am arriv'd so near;

And inward ripeness doth much less appear, That some more timely-happy spirits endu❜th. Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow,

It shall be still in strictest measure even To that same lot, however mean or high, Toward which Time leads me, and the Will of All is, if I have grace to use it so, [Heaven: As ever in my great Task-Master's eye.

TO Á VIRTUOUS YOUNG LADY.

LADY, that in the prime of earliest youth [green,
Wisely hast shunn'd the broad way and the
And with those few art eminently seen,
That labour up the hill of heavenly truth,
The better part with Mary and with Ruth
Chosen thou hast; and they that overween,
And at thy growing virtues fret their spleen,
No anger find in thee, but pity and ruth.
Thy care is fix'd, and zealously attends

To fill thy odorous lamp with deeds of light, And hope that reaps not shame. Therefore be [friends

sure

Thou, when the bridegroom with his feastful
Passes to bliss at the mid hour of night,
Hast gain'd thy entrance, Virgin wise and

pure.

X.

TO THE LADY MARGARET LEY.

DAUGHTER to that good earl, once president
Of England's council and her treasury,
Who liv'd in both, unstain'd with gold or fee,
And left them both, more in himself content,
Till sad the breaking of that parliament
Broke him, as that dishonest victory
At Chæronea, fatal to liberty,

Kill'd with report that old man eloquent.
Though later born than to have known the days,
Wherein your father flourish'd, yet by you,
Madam, methinks, I see him living yet;
So well your words his noble virtues praise,
That all both judge you to relate them true,
And to possess them, honour'd Margaret.

XI.

ON THE DETRACTION WHICH FOLLOWED UPON MY WRITING CERTAIN TREATISES.

A BOOK was writ of late called Tetrachordon,
And woven close, both matter, form, and style;
The subject new it walk'd the town awhile,
Numbering good intellects; now seldom por'd

on.

Cries the stall-reader, Bless us! what a word on A title page is this! and some in file

Stand spelling false, while one might walk to Mile[Gordon,

End Green. Why is it harder, sirs, than Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galasp? Those rugged names to our like mouths grow sleek, [gasp. That would have made Quintilian stare and Thy age, like ours, O soul of sir John Cheek, Hated not learning worse than toad or asp, When thou taught'st Cambridge, and king Edward, Greek.

Ver. 1. Daughter to that good earl,] She was the daughter of sir James Ley, whose singular learning and abilities raised him through all the great posts of the law, till he came to be made earl of Malborough, and lord higù treasurer, and lord president of the council to king James 1. He died in an advanced age; and Milton attributes his death to the breaking of the parliament; and it is true that the parliament was dissolved the 10th of March 1628-9, and he died on the 14th of the same month. He left several sons and daughters; and the lady Margaret was married to captain Hobson of the Isle of Wight. It appears from the accounts of Milton's life, that in 1643 he used frequently to visit this lady and her husband; about which time we may suppose this sonnet to have been composed.

Ver. 1. A book was writ of late call'd Tetrachordon,] This elaborate discussion, unworthy in many respects of Milton, and in which much acuteness of argument, and comprehension of reading, were idly thrown away, was received with contempt, or rather ridicule, as we learn from Howel's Letters. A better proof that it was treated with neglect, is, that it was attacked by two nameless and obscure writers only; one

XII.

ON THE SAME.

I DID but prompt the age to quit their clogs
By the known rules of ancient liberty,
When straight a barbarous noise environs me
Of owls and cuckoos, asses, apes, and dogs:
As when those binds that were transform'd to
frogs

Rail'd at Latona's twin-born progeny,

Which after held the Sun and Moon in fee. That baw! for freedom in their senseless mood, But this is got by casting pearl to hogs; And still revolt when truth would set them free.

Licence they mean when they cry Liberty; For who loves that, must first be wise and good; But from that mark how far they rove we see, For all this waste of wealth, and loos of blood.

XIII.

TO MR. H. LAWES ON THE PUBLISHING HIS AIRS.

HARRY, whose tuneful and well measur'd song
First taught our English music how to span
Words with just note and accent, not to scan
With Midas ears, committing short and long;
Thy worth and skill exempts thee from the
throng,

With praise enough for Envy to look wan;
To after age thou shalt be writ the man,
That with smooth air could'st humour best our

tongue. [wing Thou bonour'st verse, and verse must lend her To honour thee, the priest of Phoebus' quire, That tun'st their happiest lines in hymn or

story.

Dante shall give Fame leave to set thee higher Than his Casella, whom he woo'd to sing Met in the milder shades of Purgatory.

XIV.

ON THE RELIGIOUS MEMORY OF MRS. CATHERINE THOMSON', my Christian friend, deceased 16 Decemb. 1646.

WHEN Faith and Love, which parted from thee

never,

Had ripen'd thy just soul to dwell with God,
Meekly thou didst resign this earthly load
Of death, call'd life; which us from life doth

sever.

of whom Milton calls,a Serving-man turned Sollicitor! Our author's divorce was on Platonic principles. He held, that disagreement of mind was a better cause of separation than adultery or frigidity. Here was a fair opening for the laughers. This and the following Sonnet were written soon after 1645. For this doctrine Milton was summoned before the Lords. But they not approving his accusers, the presbyterian clergy, or thinking the business too speculative, he was quickly dismissed. On this occasion Milton commenced hostilities against the Presbyterians.

'Mrs. Catherine Thomsm,] I find in the accounts of Milton's life, that, when he was first.

Thy works, and alms, and all thy good endea

vour,

Staid not behind, nor in the grave were trod; But, as Faith pointed with her golden rod, Follow'd thee up to joy and bliss for ever. Love led them on, and Faith, who knew them best Thy hand-maids, clad them o'er with purple beams

And azure wings, that up they flew so drest, And spake the truth of thee on glorious themes Before the Judge; who thenceforth bid thee rest,

And drink thy fill of pure immortal streams.

XV.

TO THE LORD GENERAL FAIRFAX.

FAIRFAX, whose name in arms through Europe rings,

Filling each mouth with envy or with praise, And all her jealous monarchs with amaze And rumours loud, that daunt remotest kings; Thy firm unshaken virtue ever brings

Victory home, though new rebellions raise Their Hydra heads, and the false North displays

Her broken league to imp their serpent-wings. O yet a nobler task awaits thy hand,

(For what can war, but endless war still breed?) Till truth and right from violence be freed, And public faith clear'd from the shameful brand Of public fraud. In vain doth valour bleed, While avarice and rapine share the land.

WHEN I consider how my light is spent

Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide, Lodg'd with me useless, though my soul more bent

To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest he, returning, chide; "Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?" I fondly ask: but Patience, to prevent That murmur, soon replies, "God doth not need "Either man's work, or his own gifts; who

best

Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best: his

state

Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed, And post o'er land and ocean without rest; They also serve who only stand and wait."

XX.

TO MR. LAWRENCE.

LAWRENCE, of virtuous father virtuous son, Now that the fields are dank, and ways are mire,

Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire Help waste a sullen day, what may be won

Ver. 1. Lawrence, of virtuous father virtuous son, &c.] The virtuous father Henry Lawrence, was member for Herefordshire in the Little Par