Part of an entertainment presented to the Countess Dowager of Darby at Harefield, by som Noble persons of her Family, who appear on the Scene in pastoral habit, moving toward the seat of State with this Song.
I.
Song.
Look Nymphs, and Shepherds look,
What sudden blaze of
Is that which we from hence
Too divine to be mistook:
This this is
To whom our vows and wishes bend,
Heer our solemn search hath end.
Fame that her high worth to raise,
Seem'd erst so lavish and profuse,
We may justly now accuse Of detraction from her praise,
Less then half we find exprest,
Envy bid conceal the rest.
Mark what radiant state she spreds,
In circle round her shining throne,
Shooting her beams like silver threds,
This this is she alone,
Sitting like a Goddes bright,
In the center of her light.
Might she the wise Latona be, Or the towred Cybele,
Mother of a hunderd gods;
Juno dare's not give her odds;
Who had thought this clime had heldA deity so unparalel'd?
As they com forward, the genius of the Wood appears, and turning toward them, speaks.
EN.
Stay gentle Swains, for though in this disguise,
I see bright honour sparkle through your eyes,
Of famous Arcady ye are, and
Of that renowned flood, so often sung,
Divine Alpheus, who by secret sluse, Stole under Seas to meet his Arethuse;
And ye the breathing Roses of the Wood,
Fair silver-buskind Nymphs as great and good,
I know this quest of yours, and free
Was all in honour and devotion
To the great Mistres of yon princely shrine,
Whom with low reverence I adore as mine,
And with all helpful service will
To further this nights glad solemnity;
And lead ye where ye may more neer behold What shallow-searching Fame hath left untold;
Which I full oft amidst these shades
Have sate to wonder at, and gaze upon:
For know by lot from Jove I am the
Of this fair wood, and live in Oak'n bowr,
To nurse the Saplings tall, and curl the
With Ringlets quaint, and wanton windings wove.
And all my Plants I save from nightly ill,
Of noisom winds, and blasting vapours chill.
And from the Boughs brush off the evil dew, thunder blew,
Or what the cross dire-looking Planet smites,
Or hurtfull Worm with canker'd venom bites.
When Eev'ning gray doth rise,
I fetch my
Over the mount, and all this hallow'd ground,
And early ere the odorous breath of
Awakes the slumbring leaves, or tasseld
Shakes the high thicket, haste I all about,
Number my ranks, and visit every
With puissant words, and murmurs made to bless, But els in deep of night when
Hath lockt up mortal sense, then listen
To the celestial Sirens harmony,
That sit upon the nine enfolded Sphears,
And sing to those that hold the vital shears,
And turn the Adamantine spindle round,
On which the fate of gods and men is wound.
Such sweet compulsion doth in musick ly,
To lull the daughters of Necessity,
And keep unsteddy Nature to her law, And the low world in measur'd motion
After the heavenly tune, which none can
Of human mould with grosse unpurged ear;
And yet such musick worthiest were to
The peerles height of her immortal praise,
Whose lustre leads us, and for her most fit,
If my inferior hand or voice could
Inimitable sounds, yet as we go,
What ere the skill of lesser gods can show,
I will assay, her worth to celebrate, And so attend ye toward her glittering state;
Where ye may all that are of noble
Approach, and kiss her sacred vestures hemm.2.
Song.
O're the smooth enameld
Where no print of step hath been,
Follow me as I sing,
And touch the warbled string.
Under the shady
Of branching Elm Star-proof,
Follow me, I will bring you where she
Clad in splendor as
Her deity.
Such a rural
All Arcadia hath not seen.3.
Song.
Nymphs and Shepherds dance no
By sandy Ladons Lillied banks.
On old Lycaeus or Cyllene hoar,
Trip no more in twilight ranks,
Though Erynanth your loss deplore, A better soyl shall give ye thanks.
From the stony Maenalus,
Bring your Flocks, and live with us,
Here ye shall have greater grace,
To serve the Lady of this place.
Though Syrinx your Pans Mistres were,
Yet Syrinx well might wait on her.
Such a rural
All Arcadia hath not seen.'This poem is only part of an Entertainment, or Mask, as it is also intitled in Milton's Manuscript, the rest probably being of a different nature, or composed by a different hand.
The Countess Dowager of Derby, to whom it was presented, must have been Alice, daughter of Sir John Spenser of Althorp in Northamptonshire Knight, and the widow of Ferdinando Stanley the fifth earl of Derby: and Harefield is in Middlesex, and according to Camden lieth a little to the north of Uxbridge, so that I think we may certainly conclude, that Milton made this poem while he resided in that neighbourhood with his father at Horton near Colebrooks.
It should seem too, that it was made before the Mask at Ludlow, as it is a more imperfect essay: and Frances the second daughter of this Countess Dowager of Derby being married to John Earl of Bridgwater, before whom was presented the Mask at Ludlow, we may conceive in some measure how Milton was induc'd to compose the one after the other.
The alliance between the families naturally and easily accounts for it: and in all probability the Genius of the wood in this poem, as well as the attendent Spirit in the Mask, was Mr.
Henry Lawes, who was the great master of music at that time, and taught most of the young nobility.(Divine Alpheus, who by....):
A famous river of Arcadia, that sinking under ground passeth thro' the sea without mixing his stream with the salt-waters, and riseth at last with the fountain Arethuse near Syracuse in Sicily.
Virg.
En.
II. 694."Alpheus, as old fame reports, has
From Greece a secret passage under ground,
By love to beauteous Arethusa led,
And mingling here they roll in the same sacred bed." -Dryden.(That sit upon the nine infold spheres,...):
According to the doctrine of the Ancients, as it is explain'd by Cicero.
Somnium Scipionis 4.
Novem tibi orbibus, vel potius globis, connexa sunt omnia:
And then he enumerates them in this order, heaven or the sphere of the stars,
Saturn,
Jupiter,
Mars, the sun,
Venus,
Mercury, the moon, and the Earth.
And in the next chapter he speaks of the music of the spheres.(After the heav'ly tune, which none can hear...):
To the same purpose Shakespear speaking likewise of the music of the spheres.
Merchant of Venice,
Act. 5.
Sc. 1. "There's not the smallest orb, which thou behold'st," etc.(By sandy Ladon's lillied banks...):
This was the most beautiful river of Arcadia, and the others are famous mountains of that country: and the poet calls it "sandy Ladon" after Ovid.
Met.
I. 702."Donec arenosi placitum Ladonis ad
Venerit-----"~ Th.
Newton,
Milton's Works, 2nd edition, 1753.
