Milton's Comus
And all their friends and native home forget,

To roll with pleasure in a sensual sty.

Therefore, when any favoured of high Jove

Chances to pass through this adventurous glade,

Swift as the sparkle of a glancing star 80

 80

I shoot from heaven, to give him safe convoy,

As now I do. But first I must put off

These my sky-robes, spun out of Iris’ woof,

And take the weeds and likeness of a swain

That to the service of this house belongs,

Who, with his soft pipe and smooth-dittied song,

Well knows to still the wild winds when they roar,

And hush the waving woods; nor of less faith,

And in this office of his mountain watch

Likeliest, and nearest to the present aid 90

 90

Of this occasion. But I hear the tread

Of hateful steps; I must be viewless now.

  Comus enters, with a charming-rod in one hand, his glass in the other; with him a rout of monsters, headed like sundry sorts of wild beasts, but otherwise like men and women, their apparel glistering. They come in making a riotous and unruly noise, with torches in their hands.


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