L'Allegro, Il Penseroso, Comus, and Lycidas

Eld. Bro. List! List! I hear

Some far–off hallo break the silent air.

SEC. BRO. Methought so too; what should it be?

ELD. BRO. For certain,
Either some one, like us, night–foundered here,
Or else some neighbour woodman, or, at worst,
Some roving robber calling to his fellows.

SEC. BRO. Heaven keep my sister! Again, again, and near!

Best draw, and stand upon our guard.

ELD. BRO. I'll hallo!

If he be friendly, he comes well: if not,

Defence is a good cause, and Heaven be for us!

The ATTENDANT SPIRIT, habited like a shepherd.
That hallo I should know. What are you? speak.
Come not too near; you fall on iron stakes else.

SPIR. What voice is that? my young Lord? speak again.

SEC. BRO. O brother, 't is my father's Shepherd, sure.

ELD. BRO. Thyrsis! whose artful strains have oft delayed

The huddling brook to hear his madrigal,

And sweetened every musk–rose of the dale.

How camest thou here, good swain? Hath any ram

Slipped from the fold, or young kid lost his dam,

Or straggling wether the pent flock forsook?

How couldst thou find this dark sequestered nook?

SPIR. O my loved master's heir, and his next joy,

I came not here on such a trivial toy

As a strayed ewe, or to pursue the stealth

Of pilfering wolf; not all the fleecy wealth

That doth enrich these downs is worth a thought

To this my errand, and the care it brought.

But, oh! my virgin Lady, where is she?

How chance she is not in your company?

ELD. BRO. To tell thee sadly, Shepherd, without blame

Or our neglect, we lost her as we came.

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

ELD. BRO. What fears, good Thyrsis? Prithee briefly shew.

SPIR. I'll tell ye. 'T is not vain or fabulous

(Though so esteemed by shallow ignorance)

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 skilled in all his mother's witcheries,

And here to every thirsty wanderer

By sly enticement gives his baneful cup,

With many murmurs mixed, whose pleasing poison

The visage quite transforms of him that drinks,

And the inglorious likeness of a beast

Fixes instead, unmoulding reason's mintage

Charactered in the face. This have I learnt

Tending my flocks hard by i' the hilly crofts

That brow this bottom glade; whence night by night

He and his monstrous rout are heard to howl

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 honeysuckle, and began,

Wrapt 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 filled the air with barbarous dissonance;

At which I ceased, and listened them awhile,

Till an unusual stop of sudden silence

Gave respite to the drowsy–flighted steeds

That draw the litter of close–curtained Sleep.

At last a soft and solemn–breathing sound

Rose like a steam of rich distilled perfumes,

And stole upon the air, that even Silence

Was took ere she was ware, and wished 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, oh! ere long

Too well I did perceive it was the voice

Of my most honoured Lady, your dear sister.

Amazed I stood, harrowed with grief and fear;

And "O poor hapless nightingale," thought I,

"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 damned wizard, 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 wished prey;

Who gently asked if he had seen such two,

Supposing him some neighbour villager.

Longer I durst not stay, but soon I guessed

Ye were the two she meant; with that I sprung

Into swift flight, till I had found you here;

But further know I not.

SEC. BRO. O night and shades,

How are ye joined with hell in triple knot

Against the unarmed weakness of one virgin,

Alone and helpless! Is this the confidence

You gave me, brother?

ELD. BRO. Yes, and keep it still;

Lean on it safely; not a period

Shall be unsaid for me. Against the threats