CONTAINING PLANS OF SIMILAR SUBJECTS, INTENDED FOR TRAGEDIES BY MILTON FROM HIS OWN MS, IN TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.
In the library of Trinity College, Cambridge, is a thin folio manuscript, marked, in the year 1799, when I was obligingly permitted by the master and fellows of that society to examine it, Miscell. R. iii. 4. It is handsomely bound; and to the inside of one of the covers is pasted a paper with this inscription: Membra hæc eruditissimi et pænè divine Poetæ olim miserè disjecta et passim sparsa, postea verò fortuitò inventa, et in unum denuo collecta à CAROLO MASON ejusdem Collegii Socio, et inter Miscellanea reposita, deinceps eâ quâ decuit religione servari voluit THOMAS CLARKE', nuperrimmè hujusce Collegii, nunc verò Medii Templi Londini, Socius, 1736. These papers were found by Dr. Mason, above, mentioned, who was also Woodwardian professor at Cambridge, among other old and neglected manuscripts belonging to sir Henry Newton Puckering, a considerable benefactor to the library. They contain two draughts of a letter to a friend, who had importuned Milton to take orders; the following plans of Paradise Lost in the form of a tragedy, or mystery; the plans or subjects of several other intended tragedies, all in the poet's own hand; and entire copies of many of his smaller poems, in the same hand, except in a few instances, exhibiting his first thoughts and subsequent corrections. All these variations, Mr. Warton has observed, have been imperfectly and incorrectly printed by Dr. Birch. Various readings of this MS. have been also admitted into Dr. Newton's edition of all Milton's
poetical works; as have such, which relate to the respective pieces, and which have been more minutely investigated, in Mr. Warton's two editions of Milton's smaller poems. Upon a careful examination of this manuscript, I have discovered a few peculiarities, or variations of expression, which have escaped the notice of those who have preceded me in describing this literary curiosity; and which will be found in their proper places. For I have added, at the end of each particular poem, as of Lycidas, Arcades, and Comus ; and at the end of each series of poems, as of Sonnets, Odes, and Miscellanies; the several various readings respectively belonging to them. In this arrangement I hope to gratify the reader: who, after reading the finished poem, may then trace without interruption, (to use the language of Dr. Johnson respecting the imperfect rudiments of Paradise Lost,) the gradual growth and expansion of great works in their seminal state; and observe how they are sometimes suddenly advanced by accidental hints, and sometimes slowly improved by steady meditation. For this reason also I have placed the dramatic plans of Paradise Lost at the conclusion of the poet's sublimer "heroic song;" and have subjoined, to the tragedy of Samson Agonistes, the plans of Milton's other intended dramas,
Afterwards master of the Rolls, and knight. Mr. Warton says that sir Henry "had so great an affection for this college, in which he had been educated, that in his eightieth year desired to be readmitted: and, residing there a whole summer, presented to the new library, just then finished, his own collection of books, amounting to near four thousand volumes. He was son of sir Adam Newton, tutor to prince Henry; and many papers written by that prince, or relating to him, are involved in the collection. Sir Henry took the name of Puckering in remembrance of his uncle sir Thomas Puckering of Warwiekshire, a learned and accomplished man, brother in law to sir Adam Newton, son of lord keeper Puckering, a companion of the studies of prince Henry. Many of the books were presents to the prince from authors or editors. In Dr. Duport's Bore subsecive, a poem is addressed to this preserver of Milton's manuscripts, Ad D. Henricum Puckeringum, alias Newtonum, Equitum baronettum. Cantabr. 1676. 8vo. pp. 222, 223. This sir Henry had a son, pupil to Dr. Duport at Trinity College, but who died before his father."
debating what should become of At last, after discourse of enmity on either side, Chorus prepare resistance at his first approach. Man, if he fall.
he departs; whereat the Chorus sing of the battell and victorie in Heaven against him and his accomplices as before, after the first act, was sung a hymn of the creation3.
Heer again may appear Lucifer, relating and
Chorus sing the marriage song, and describe Pa-insulting in what he had don to the destruction
of Man. Man next, and Eve, having by this time bin seduc't by the serpent, appears confusedly cover'd with leaves. Conscience, in a shape, accuses him. Justice cites him to the place, whither Jehovah called for him. In the mean while, the Chorus entertains the stage, and is informed, by some angel, [of] the manner of
Heer the Chorus bewails Adam's fall. Adam then and Eve returne, and accuse one another; but especially Adam layes the blame to his wife; is stubborn in his offence. Justice appears; reasons with him, convinces him. The Chorus admonishes Adam, and bids him beware Lucifer's example of impenitences.
The angel is sent to banish them out of Paradise; but, before, causes to pass before his eyes,
Adam and Eve driven out of Paradice : præsented in shapes, a mask of all the evills of this life and by an angel with
world. He is humbl'd, relents, dispaires. At last appeares Mercy, comforts him, promises the Messiah; then calls in Faith, Hope, and Charity; instructs him. He repents; gives God the glory, submitts to his penalty. The Chorus briefly concludes.
Compare this with the former draught?.
The angel Gabriel, either descending or entring; showing, since the globe was created, his frequency as much on Earth as in Heaven; describes Paradise. Next, the Chorus, showing the reason of his comming to keep his watch after Jucifer's rebellion, by command from God: and withall expressing his desire to see and know more concerning this excellent and new creature, Man. The angel Gabriel, as by his name signifying a prince of power, tracing Paradise with a more free office, passes by the station of the Chorus ; and, desired by them, relates what he knew of Man ; as the creation of Eve, with thire love and marriage.
After this, Lucifer appears after his overthrow, bemoans himself, seeks revenge upon Man, The
The subject proposed. Invocation of the Holy Spirit. The poem opens with John baptizing
3 End of the second act.
4 End of the third act.
5 End of the fourth act. 6 End of the fifth act.
7 The reader may compare the allegorical characters, and their offices, in this and the preceding draught, with those in the Italian drama by Andreini:
Phillips, the nephew of Milton, has told us, that Paradise Lost was first designed for a tragedy, and that in the fourth book of the poem "there are ten verses, which, several years before the poem was begun, were shown to me, and some others, as designed for the very beginning of the said tragedy." Life, &c. 1694, p. xxxv. These verses are the opening of Satan's celebrated address to the Sun. "O thou, that with surpassing glory crown'd, &c." TODD.
() No edition of Paradise Regained had ever appeared with Arguments to the Books, before that which was published in 1795 by Mr. Dun.... ster; from which they are adopted in this edition. Peck indeed endeavoured to supply the deficiency, in his Memoirs of Milton, 1740,
Now had the great proclaimer, with a voice More awful than the sound of trumpet, cried Repentance, and Heaven's kingdom nigh at hand To all baptiz'd: to his great baptism flock'd With awe the regions round, and with them
at the river Jordan. Jesus coming there is | I, who ere while the happy garden sung baptized; and is attested, by the descent of By one man's disobedience lost, now sing the Holy Ghost, and by a voice from Heaven, Recover'd Paradise to all mankind, to be the Son of God. Satan, who is present, By one man's firm obedience fully tried upon this immediately flies up into the regions Through all temptation, and the tempter foil'd of the air: where, summoning his infernal In all his wiles, defeated and repuls'd, council, he acquaints them with his appre- And Eden rais'd in the waste wilderness. hensions that Jesus is that seed of the Woman, Thou Spirit, who ledst this glorious eremite destined to destroy all their power, and points Into the desert, his victorious field, [thence out to them the immediate necessity of bring- Against the spiritual foe, and brought'st him ing the matter to proof, and of attempting, By proof the undoubted Son of God, inspire, by snares and fraud, to counteract and de- As thou art wont, my prompted song, else mute, feat the person, from whom they bave so much And bear through height or depth of Nature's to dread. This office he offers himself to un- bounds, [deeds dertake; and, his offer being accepted, sets With prosperous wing full summ'd, to tell of out on his enterprise.-In the mean time God, Above heroic, though in secret done, in the assembly of holy angels, declares that And unrecorded left through many an age; he has given up his Son to be tempted by Sa-Worthy to have not remain'd so long unsung. tan; but foretels that the tempter shall be completely defeated by him:-upon which the angels sing a hymn of triumph. Jesus is led up by the Spirit into the wilderness, while he is meditating on the commencement of his great office of Saviour of mankind. Pursuing his meditations he narrates, in a soliloquy, what divine and philanthrophic impulses he had felt from his early youth, and how his mother Mary, on perceiving these dispositions in him, had acquainted him with the circum- stances of his birth, and informed him that he was no less a person than the Son of God; to which he adds what his own inquiries and reflections had supplied in confirmation of this great truth, and particularly dwells on the recent attestation of it at the river Jordan. Our Lord passes forty days, fasting, in the wilderness, where the wild beasts become mild and harmless in his presence. Satan now appears under the form of an old peasant; and enters into discourse with our Lord, won- dering what could have brought him alone into so dangerous a place, and at the same time professing to recognize him for the per- son lately acknowledged by John, at the river Jordan, to be the Son of God. Jesus briefly replies. Satan rejoins with a description of the difficulty of supporting life in the wilder- ness; and entreats Jesus, if he be really the Son of God, to manifest his divine power, by changing some of the stones into bread. Je- sus reproves him, and at the same time tells him that he knows who he is. Satan instantly avows himself, and offers an artful apology for himself and his conduct. Our blessed Lord severely reprimands him, and refutes every part of his justification. Satan, with much semblance of humility, still endea- yours to justify himself; and, professing his admiration of Jesus and his regard for virtue, requests to be permitted at a future time to hear more of his conversation; but is answer- ed, that this must be as he shall find per- mission from above. Satan then disappears, and the book closes with a short description of night coming on in the desert.
p. 70, &c. But the arguments, which he has there given, are too diffuse; and want that con- ciseness and energy which distinguish Mr, Dun- ster's. TODD,
From Nazareth the son of Joseph deem'd To the flood Jordan; came, as then obscure, Unmark'd, unknown; but him the Baptist soon Descried, divinely warn'd, and witness bore As to his worthier, and would have resign'd To him his heavenly office; nor was long His witness unconfirm'd: on him baptiz'd Heaven open'd, and in likeness of a dove The Spirit descended, while the Father's voice From Heaven pronounc'd him his beloved Son. That heard the adversary, who, roving still About the world, at that assembly fam'd Would not be last, and, with the voice divine Nigh thunder-struck, the exalted man, to whom Such high attest was given, a while survey'd With wonder; then, with envy fraught and rage, Flies to his place, nor res!s, but in mid air To council summons all his mighty peers, Within thick clouds and dark ten-fold involv'd, A gloomy consistory; and them amidst, With looks aghast and sad, he thus bespake.
"O ancient powers of air, and this wide world, (For much more willingly I mention air, This our old conquest, than remember Hell, Our hated habitation,) well ye know How many ages, as the years of men, This universe we have possess'd, and rul'd, In manner at our will, the affairs of Earth, Since Adam and his facile consort Eve Lost Paradise, deceiv'd by me; though since With dread attending when that fatal wound Shall be inflicted by the seed of Eve Upon my head. Long the decrees of Heaven Delay, for longest time to him is short; And now, too soon for us, the circling hours This dreaded time have compass'd, wherein we Must bide the stroke of that long-threaten'd (At least if so we can, and by the head [wound, Broken be not intended all our power To be infring'd, our freedom and our being, In this fair empire won of Earth and air,) For this ill news I bring, the woman's seed Destin'd to this, is late of woman born. His birth to our just fear gave no small cause: But his growth now to youth's full flower dis-, playing
All virtue, grace, and wisdom to achieve Things highest, greatest, multiplies my fear. Before him a great prophet, to proclaim His coming, is sent harbinger, who all Invites, and in the consecrated stream Pretends to wash off sin, and fit them, so Purified, to receive him pure, or rather To do him honour as their king: all come, And he himself among them was baptiz'd; Not thence to be more pure, but to receive The testimony of Heaven, that who he is Thenceforth the nations may not doubt; I saw The prophet do him reverence; on him, rising Out of the water, Heaven above the clouds Unfold her crystal doors: thence on his head A perfect dove descend, (whate'er it meant,) And out of Heaven the sovran voice I heard, This is my Son belov'd, in him am pleas'd.' His mother then is mortal, but his Sire He who obtains the monarchy of Heaven: And what will he not do to advance his Son? His first-begot we know, and sore have felt, When his fierce thunder drove us to the deep: Who this is we must learn, for Man he seems In all his lineaments, though in his face The glimpses of his father's glory shine. Ye see our danger on the utmost edge Of hazard, which admits no long debate, But must with something sudden be oppos'd, (Not force, but well-couch'd fraud, well-woven Ere in the head of nations he appear, Their king, their leader, and supreme on Earth. I, when no other durst, sole undertook The dismal expedition to find out And ruin Adam; and the exploit perform'd Successfully: a calmer voyage now Will waft me; and the way, found prosperous Induces best to hope of like success."
He ended, and his words impression left Of much amazement to the infernal crew, Distracted, and surpris'd with deep dismay At these sad tidings; but no time was then For long indulgence to their fears or grief: Unanimous they all commit the care And management of this main enterprise To him, their great dictator, whose attempt At first against mankind so well had thriv'd In Adam's overthrow, and led their march From Hell's deep-vaulted den to dwell in light, Regents, and potentates, and kings, yea gods, Of many a pleasant realm and province wide. So to the coast of Jordan he directs His easy steps, girded with snaky wiles, Where he might likeliest find this new-declar'd, This Man of men, attested Son of God, Temptation and all guile on him to try; So to subvert whom he suspected rais'd To end his reign on Earth, so long enjoy'd: But, contrary, unweeting he fulfill'd
The purpos'd council, pre-ordain'd and fix'd, Of the Most High; who, in full frequence bright
Of angels, thus to Gabriel smiling spake. "Gabriel, this day by proof thou shalt behold, Thou and all angels conversant on Earth With man or men's affairs, how I begin To verify that solemn message, late On which I sent thee to the virgin pure In Galilee, that she should bear a son, Great in renown, and call'd the Son of God;
Then told'st her, doubting how these thing could be
To her a virgin, that on her should come The Holy Ghost, and the power of the Highests O'ershadow her. This man, born and now up- To show him worthy of his birth divine [grown, And high prediction, henceforth I expose To Satan; let him tempt, and now assay His utmost subtlety, because he boasts And vaunts of his great cunning to the throng Of his apostacy: he might have learnt Less overweening, since he fail'd in Job, Whose constant perseverance overcame Whate'er his cruel malice could invent. He now shall know I can produce a man, Of female seed, far abler to resist All his solicitations, and at length All his vast force, and drive him back to Hell; Winning, by conquest, what the first man lost, By fallacy surpris'd. But first I mean
To exercise him in the wilderness; There he shall first lay down the rudiments Of his great warfare, ere I send him forth To conquer Sin and Death, the two grand foes, By humiliation and strong sufferance: His weakness shall o'ercome Satanic strength, And all the world, and mass of sinful flesh, That all the angels and ethereal powers, They now, and men hereafter, may discern, From what consummate virtue I have chose This perfect man, by merit call'd my Son, To earn salvation for the sons of men."
So spake the Eternal Father, and all Heaven Admiring stood a space, then into hymns Burst forth, and in celestial measures mov'd, Circling the throne and singing, while the hand Sung with the voice, and this the argument.
"Victory and triumph to the Son of God, Now entering his great duel, not of arms, But to vanquish by wisdom hellish wiles! The Father knows the Son; therefore secure Ventures his filial virtue, though untried, Against whate'er may tempt, whate'er seduce, Allure, or terrify, or undermine.
Be frustrate, all ye stratagems of Hell, And, devilish machinations, come to naught!"
So they in Heaven their odes and vigils tun'd Mean while the Son of God, who yet some days Lodg'd in Bethabara, where John baptiz'd, Musing, and much revolving in his breast, How best the mighty work he might begin Of saviour to mankind, and which way first Publish his God-like office now mature, One day forth walk'd alone, the Spirit leading And his deep thoughts, the better to converse With solitude, till, far from track of men, Thought following thought, and step by step led' He enter'd now the bordering desert wild, [on, And, with dark shades and rocks environ'd His holy meditations thus pursued. [round,
"O, what a multitude of thoughts at once Awaken'd in me swarm, while I consider What from within I feel myself, and here What from without comes often to my ears, Ill sorting with my present state compar'd! When I was yet a child, no childish play To me was pleasing; all my mind was set Serious to learn and know, and thence to do What might be public good; myself I thought Born to that end, born to promote all truth,
All righteous things: therefore, above my years, The law of God I read, and found it sweet, Made it my whole delight, and in it grew To such perfection, that, ere yet my age Had measur'd twice six years, at our great feast I went into the temple, there to hear The teachers of our law, and to propose [own; What might improve my knowledge or their And was admir'd by all: yet this not all To which my spirit aspir'd; victorious deeds Flam'd in my heart, heroic acts; one while To rescue Israel from the Roman yoke, Then to subdue and quell, o'er all the Earth, Brute violence and proud tyrannic power, Till truth were freed, and equity restor❜d: Yet held it more humane, more heavenly, first By winning words to conquer willing hearts, And make persuasion do the work of fear; At least to try, and teach the erring soul, Not wilfully misdoing, but unaware Misled; the stubborn only to subdue. [ceiving, These growing thoughts my mother soon per- By words at times cast forth, inly rejoic'd,
And said to me apart, High are thy thoughts, O son, but nourish them, and let them soar To what height sacred virtue and true worth Can raise them, though above example high; By matchless deeds express thy matchless sire, For know, thou art no son of mortal man; Though men esteem thee low of parentage, Thy father is the Eternal King who rules All Heaven and Earth, angels and sons of men; A messenger from God foretold thy birth Conceiv'd in me a virgin; he foretold, [throne, Thou should'st be great, and sit on David's And of thy kingdom there should be no end. At thy nativity, a glorious quire
Of angels, in the fields of Bethlehem, sung To shepherds, watching at their folds by night, And told them the Messiah now was born, Where they might see him, and to thee they
Directed to the manger where thou lay'st, For in the inn was left no better room: A star, not seen before, in Heaven appearing, Guided the wise men thither from the east, To honour thee with incense, myrrh, and gold; By whose bright course led on they found the place,
Affirming it thy star, new-graven in Heaven, By which they knew the king of Israel born. Just Simeon and prophetic Anna, warn'd By vision, found thee in the temple, and spake, Before the altar and the vested priest, Like things of thee to all that present stood.'- This having heard, straight I again revolv'd The law and prophets, searching what was writ Concerning the Messiah, to our scribes [spake Known partly, and soon found, of whom they I am; this chiefly, that my way must lie Through many a hard assay, even to the death, Ere I the promis'd kingdom can attain, Or work redemption for mankind, whose sins Full weight must be transferr'd upon my head. Yet, neither thus dishearten'd or dismay'd, The time prefix'd I waited; when behold The Baptist, (of whose birth I oft had heard, Not knew by sight,) now come, who was to Before Messiah, and his way prepare! [come I, as all others, to his baptism came,
Me him, (for it was shown him so from Heaven,) Me him, whose harbinger he was; and first Refus'd on me his baptism to confer, As much his greater, and was hardly won: But, as I rose out of the laving stream, Heaven opened her eternal doors, from whence The Spirit descended on me like a dove; And last, the sum of all, my father's voice, Audibly heard from Heaven, pronounc'd me his, 'Me his beloved son, in whom alone He was well pleas'd;' by which I knew the time Now full, that I no more should live obscure, But openly begin, as best becomes, The authority which I deriv'd from Heaven. And now by some strong motion I am led Into this wilderness, to what intent
I learn not yet; perhaps I need not know, For what concerns my knowledge God reveals."
So spake our Morning-star, then in his rise, And, looking round, on every side beheld A pathless desert, dusk with horrid shades; The way he came not having mark'd, return Was difficult, by human steps untrod; And he still on was led, but with such thoughts Accompanied of things past and to come Lodg'd in his breast, as well might recommend Such solitude before choicest society. Full forty days he pass'd, whether on hill Sometimes, anon on shady vale, each night Under the covert of some ancient oak, Or cedar, to defend him from the dew, Or harbour'd in one cave, is not reveal'd; Nor tasted human food, nor hunger felt Till those days ended; hunger'd then at last Among wild beasts: they at his sight grew mild, Nor sleeping him nor waking harm'd; his walk The fiery serpent fled and noxious worm, The lion and fierce tiger glar'd aloof. But now an aged man in rural weeds, Following, as seem'd, the quest of some stray ewe, Or wither'd sticks to gather, which might serve Against a winter's day, when winds blow keen, To warm him wet return'd from field at eve, He saw approach, who first with curious eye Perus'd him, then with words thus utter'd spake. "Sir, what ill chance hath brought thee to
So far from path or road of men, who pass In troop or caravan? for single none Durst ever, who return'd, and dropt not here His carcase, pin'd with hunger and with drought. I ask the rather, and the more admire, For that to me thou seem'st the Man, whom late Our new baptizing prophet at the ford Of Jordan honour'd so, and call'd thee Son Of God: I saw and heard, for we sometimes Who dwell this wild, constrain'd by want, come forth
To town or village nigh, (nighest is far,) Where aught we hear, and curious are to hear, What happens new; fame also finds us out."
To whom the Son of God. "Who brought
Will bring me hence; no other guide I seek.” "By miracle he may," replied the swain; "What other way I see not; for we here Live on tough roots and stubs, to thirst inur'a
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