MILTON'S "MASQUE OF COMUS."

Some years ago the English department of the College, under the management of Professor David L. Maulsby, produced a highly creditable representation of the old English Mystery Play, Ralph Roister Doister. The interest created by that old-fashioned play led to a revival of the study of early English drama, which resulted in a second representation of a Miracle Play under the same management and with the same unqualified success. The "Townely Pageant", with its earnest and loving actors and workers and its generous patrons, is fresh in our memory. It marked a forward step in the literary history of the college.

The good work of the English department, so wisely set on foot and continued with so much enthusiasm, has developed into a wider and more suggestive sphere. Hitherto the crude thoughts, the coarse manners, and the rough language of our ancestors have been reproduced with startling realism. A certain rugged shrewdness touched the fancy, and the deep religious fervor of their ignorant and superstitious minds revived a feeling of an inward spiritual grace in present day doubters, but the want of order, beauty, "motif," destroyed its power to correct, instruct and guide. This year marks a radical change, as will be seen in the literary and dramatic work so soon to be produced in Goddard Gymnasium. There will be lofty thought for the mind and high motives for the moral and ethical life, but there will be music, song and dance, courtly gallants and fair women, and over all, life-strenuous life--will leave its lesson on the open mind.

The English department, under the careful management of Professor Thomas Whittemore, is to bring all these beautiful and necessary phases of life before the college community and friends by a loving and thoughtful interpretation of the "Masque of Comus," by John Milton.

Originally the masque came from Italy and became very popu

lar in Queen Elizabeth's time. They were costly entertainments, and the "Good Queen Bess" had such a nice sense of economy that she preferred to be entertained at the castles of her nobles than at her own court. Sir Walter Scott gives an excellent picture of the masque in "Ivanhoe," and shows how the Earl of Leicester strove to out-do all competing rivals by furnishing most elaborate, costly and unique settings to celebrate the visit of his queen.

It was during the reign of Charles I that the English masque reached its perfection. In the month of February, 1634, the lawyers of the "Four Inns of Courts" gave Shirley's "Masque of the Triumph of Peace" in honor of their king. Many of the leading lawyers of the realm took part in this representation and gladly paid their share of the $105,000 expended on this magnificent spectacle. The queen and her maids of honor danced with the masquers, and they continued in their sports until it was almost morning. Shortly after this the king and queen returned the compliment by presenting Carew's "Cælum Brittanicum." Charles, himself, with fourteen of his nobles, and ten noblemen's young sons, including Viscount Brackley and Mr. Thomas Egerton, the two brothers, in the "Masque of Comus," took the several parts. The royal purse was none too full, and as Charles could not pay the bills he distributed several of $25,000 each among his lawyer friends down at the "Four Inns of Courts."

The names of Ben Jonson and Inigo Jones are pre-eminent in this period. Jonson wrote many of the court masques, and Jones planned the marvellous stage decoration so necessary in those days. Court and nobles went in so much for scenery, stage devices and curious machinery that the poetry and sense of the masque became subordinate to the trappings and settings of the stage. The architect thought his services of more importance than the laureate. Time has long since settled their dispute by giving a place in the minds of men to the thoughts and feelings of the one and covering the wood and tinsel of the other with the dust of oblivion.

At this time Wales was under the control of a Lord President

chosen by the Crown, and a vacancy occurring in 1631 King Charles appointed John, Earl of Bridgewater, to that distinguished position. The Earl did not formally enter upon his duties until the autumn of 1634 and celebrated the occasion with great festivities. The great feature of the inauguration was the first performance of Milton's "Comus." It was a touch of Providence that Milton was chosen to write the play. It is thought that the Earl trusted the entire affair to the care of his wife, Lady Francis, a very superior woman, who, recognizing the dignity of her husband's position, and wishing to signalize his entry to his official residence in Ludlow Castle, decided to conciliate the people of Ludlow town by a masque of unusual magnificence and a general good time. The splendors of the court masques and all the gaities of London life inspired her with the theme of the celebration, and she commissioned Henry Lawes, the leading musical composer in England, and also tutor to her children, to prepare a masque adapted to the occasion and suitable to be performed by her children. The other theory is that the two young sons of the Earl were so elated with their parts in "Cælum Brittanicum" and were so flattered by Queen Henrietta when she said "pour les habits elle n'avait jamais rien vue de si brave," that they wanted a masque all to themselves.

It is likely that the scholarly Milton and the refined Henry Lawes had met in the literary circles of London, and as John had given some little token of poetic feeling Mr. Lawes invited him to write the play. Out of the violet nooks of Buckinghamshire came one who, although he had not published a line, wrote one of the sweetest and best poems in the English language, the "Masque of Comus."

The origin of Comus has been variously given. Perhaps Milton may have obtained suggestions from the Comus of Hendrick van der Putten, or from Ben Jonson's character of Comus, so well portrayed in the masque of "Pleasure Reconciled to Virtue," but it is more likely that he took the Greek legend of Comus, the Riot-god, son of Bacchus and Circe, and beautified and strengthened the demigod of his masque.

Comus, however, although occupying a leading part of the play, is not the hero of the masque and is brought on the scene through a little adventure said to have happened to the Earl's daughter. The young lady is the heroine and her mishap gives rise to the wiley workings of the vine-wreathed god. One evening the young lady and her two brothers were passing through Heywood forest on their way home. An open glade revealed a small knoll covered with grape vines and the brothers, quite like boys, rushed off to get some fruit for themselves and sister. Night was coming on and the gloom of the shady oak trees deepened the gathering twilight. At last, with hands full of grapes, the boys went back to their sister, but in their search for the fruit they had lost their bearings and started back into the wrong glade. Of course they lost their way in the gloom, and only found their sister after she had raised the echoes in the leafy lanes by one of the sweet songs which Mr. Lawes had taught her.

It may have been but a short time that the children were lost in the wood, but in this brief interval the poet crowds an hour of action and of stirring adventure: high thoughts nobly expressed, desire bravely withstood, human weakness aided by an educated mind, courageous deeds and brotherly love are all clearly portrayed in the setting of the masque.

There were six characters in the play. The Lady Alice, a girl not yet fifteen years old, took the part of the Lost Lady, and the two brothers, still younger, were the brothers in the play. One might question the ability of such young children to comprehend the high thought contained in the masque, but they were unusually advanced for their years, and we may be sure that any lapses in the speeches would be concealed by a burst of handclapping from the enthusiastic audience.

Mr. Lawes took the part of the Attendant Spirit. His long training in music especially fitted him for that important position. His sweet tenor voice and graceful manner enabled him to portray with delicate exactness the rôle he assumed.

The masque had to appeal to local feeling and to this end Mil

ton introduced Sabrina, the nymph of the Severn stream so dear to the Welshman's heart. It is likely that one of the sisters took this part, and other sisters, for there were eleven in all, served as nymphs attending Sabrina.

There is a tradition that the graceful, slender gentleman who played the part of Comus so well was none other than John Milton himself. At first a country cousin of the Lady Alice wanted the honor of playing this part, but he was so slow of speech and so ready at the home-brewed posset that his place had to be filled at the last moment by a stranger, so-called. The readiness with which the new-comer pronounced his lines, the art he manifested, and the native grace and courtly bearing of his person all indicated a scholar with a perfect knowledge of the letter and spirit of the masque. Who could be better fitted for this part than Milton? True, when he was in college he was "the Lady of Christ's," and would hardly be expected to fill the part of a rollicking, carefree god of wine and pleasure. But Milton, like most great men, was somewhat of a poseur; he knew his power and perhaps he wished to wield it to the astonishment of the people of Ludlow and the gratification of the Earl. Be that as it may, whether Milton or some friend of the family, who would not, for the opportunity of luring the sweet Lady Alice to some quiet corner behind the curtain, where one might be the observed and envied of all the actors, undergo harsh treatment at her brother's hands and even disappear in the black cloud of the actor's disgrace.

Imagine yourself in the great hall of Ludlow Castle on Michaelmas night, 1634. At the end of the room a stage is erected, concealed from the audience by a curtain. All about that spacious room are seated groups of the family and their friends. No orchestra stalls to crumple dresses and cramp one's limbs. Brightly dressed pages glide here and there among the throng. A sudden laugh peals out only to be silenced by the expectant looks of the company. Over by the stage the Earl and his lady are seated on a throne of state covered with a purple canopy, and at their feet sit a little boy and girl with hair falling about their shoulders in