Milton's Comus. Джон Мильтон

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СКАЧАТЬ That Nature hung in heaven, and filled their lamps With everlasting oil to give due light To the misled and lonely traveller? 200 This is the place, as well as I may guess, Whence even now the tumult of loud mirth Was rife, and perfect in my listening ear; Yet nought but single darkness do I find. What might this be? A thousand fantasies Begin to throng into my memory, Of calling shapes, and beckoning shadows dire, And airy tongues that syllable men’s names On sands and shores and desert wildernesses. These thoughts may startle well, but not astound 210 The virtuous mind, that ever walks attended By a strong siding champion, Conscience. O, welcome, pure-eyed Faith, white-handed Hope, Thou hovering angel girt with golden wings, And thou unblemished form of Chastity! I see ye visibly, and now believe That He, the Supreme Good, to whom all things ill Are but as slavish officers of vengeance, Would send a glistering guardian, if need were, To keep my life and honour unassailed. … 220 Was I deceived, or did a sable cloud Turn forth her silver lining on the night? I did not err: there does a sable cloud Turn forth her silver lining on the night, And casts a gleam over this tufted grove. I cannot hallo to my brothers, but Such noise as I can make to be heard farthest I’ll venture; for my new-enlivened spirits Prompt me, and they perhaps are not far off.

      Song.

      Sweet Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv’st unseen 230 Within thy airy shell By slow Meander’s margent green, And in the violet-embroidered vale Where the love-lorn nightingale Nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well: Canst thou not tell me of a gentle pair That likest thy Narcissus are? O, if thou have Hid them in some flowery cave, Tell me but where, 240 Sweet Queen of Parley, Daughter of the Sphere! So may’st thou be translated to the skies, And give resounding grace to all Heaven’s harmonies!

      Comus. Can any mortal mixture of earth’s mould Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment? Sure something holy lodges in that breast, And with these raptures moves the vocal air To testify his hidden residence. How sweetly did they float upon the wings Of silence, through the empty-vaulted night, 250 At every fall smoothing the raven down Of darkness till it smiled! I have oft heard My mother Circe with the Sirens three, Amidst the flowery-kirtled Naiades, Culling their potent herbs and baleful drugs, Who, as they sung, would take the prisoned soul, And lap it in Elysium: Scylla wept, And chid her barking waves into attention, And fell Charybdis murmured soft applause. Yet they in pleasing slumber lulled the sense, 260 And in sweet madness robbed it of itself; But such a sacred and home-felt delight, Such sober certainty of waking bliss, I never heard till now. I’ll speak to her, And she shall be my queen.—Hail, foreign wonder! Whom certain these rough shades did never breed, Unless the goddess that in rural shrine Dwell’st here with Pan or Sylvan by blest song Forbidding every bleak unkindly fog To touch the prosperous growth of this tall wood. 270

      Lady. Nay, gentle shepherd, ill is lost that praise That is addressed to unattending ears. Not any boast of skill, but extreme shift How to regain my severed company, Compelled me to awake the courteous Echo To give me answer from her mossy couch.

      Comus. What chance, good Lady, hath bereft you thus?

      Lady. Dim darkness and this leafy labyrinth.

      Comus. Could that divide you from near-ushering guides?

      Lady. They left me weary on a grassy turf. 280

      Comus. By falsehood, or discourtesy, or why?

      Lady. To seek i’ the valley some cool friendly spring.

      Comus. And left your fair side all unguarded, lady?

      Lady. They were but twain, and purposed quick return.

      Comus. Perhaps forestalling night prevented them.

      Lady. How easy my misfortune is to hit!

      Comus. Imports their loss, beside the present need?

      Lady. No less than if I should my brothers lose.

      Comus. Were they of manly prime, or youthful bloom?

      Lady. As smooth as Hebe’s their unrazored lips. 290

      Comus. Two such I saw, what time the laboured ox In his loose traces from the furrow came, And the swinked hedger at his supper sat. I saw them under a green mantling vine, That crawls along the side of yon small hill, Plucking ripe clusters from the tender shoots; Their port was more than human, as they stood I took it for a faery vision Of some gay creatures of the element, That in the colours of the rainbow live, 300 And play i’ the plighted clouds. I was awe-strook, And, as I passed, I worshiped. If those you seek, It were a journey like the path to Heaven To help you find them.

      Lady. Gentle villager, What readiest way would bring me to that place?

      Comus. Due west it rises from this shrubby point.

      Lady. To find out that, good shepherd, I suppose, In such a scant allowance of star-light, Would overtask the best land-pilot’s art, Without the sure guess of well-practised feet. 310

      Comus. I know each lane, and every alley green, Dingle, or bushy dell, of this wild wood, And every bosky bourn from side to side, My daily walks and ancient neighbourhood; And, if your stray attendance be yet lodged, Or shroud within these limits, I shall know Ere morrow wake, or the low-roosted lark From her thatched pallet rouse. If otherwise, I can conduct you, lady, to a low But loyal cottage, where you may be safe 320 Till further quest.

      Lady. Shepherd, I take thy word, And trust thy honest-offered courtesy, Which oft is sooner found in lowly sheds, With smoky rafters, than in tapestry halls And courts of princes, where it first was named, And yet is most pretended. In a place Less warranted than this, or less secure, I cannot be, that I should fear to change it. Eye me, blest Providence, and square my trial To my proportioned strength! Shepherd, lead on. [Exeunt.

      Enter the Two Brothers.

      Elder Brother. Unmuffle, ye faint stars; and thou, fair moon,331 That wont’st to love the traveller’s benison, Stoop thy pale visage through an amber cloud, And disinherit Chaos, that reigns here In double night of darkness and of shades; Or, if your influence be quite dammed up With black usurping mists, some gentle taper, Though a rush-candle from the wicker hole Of some clay habitation, visit us With thy long levelled rule of streaming light, 340 And thou shalt be our star of Arcady, Or Tyrian Cynosure.

      Second Brother. Or, if our eyes Be barred that happiness, might we but hear The folded flocks, penned in their wattled cotes, Or sound of pastoral reed with oaten stops, Or whistle from the lodge, or village cock Count the night-watches to his feathery dames, ’Twould be some solace yet, some little cheering, In this close dungeon of innumerous boughs. But, Oh, that hapless virgin, our lost sister! 350 Where may she wander now, whither betake her From the chill dew, amongst rude burs and thistles? Perhaps some cold bank is her bolster now, Or ’gainst the rugged bark of some broad elm Leans her unpillowed head, fraught with sad fears. What if in wild amazement and affright, Or, while we speak, within the direful grasp Of savage hunger, or of savage heat!

      Elder Brother. Peace, brother: be not over-exquisite To cast the fashion of uncertain evils; 360 For, grant they be so, while they rest unknown, What need a man forestall his date of grief, And run to meet what he would most avoid? Or, if they be but false alarms of fear, How bitter is such self-delusion! I do not think my sister so to seek, Or so unprincipled in virtue’s book, And the sweet peace that goodness bosoms ever, As that the single want of light and noise (Not being in danger, as СКАЧАТЬ