It must have been a gay and imposing sight that greeted the spectators in the grim old border fortress, the gaunt ruins of which may yet be seen, but which had at that date already rubbed off some of its medieval ruggedness as a place of defence.  Though necessarily less elaborate and costly than the performances in London, no pains were spared to make the spectacle worthy of the occasion, and it must have appeared all the more splendid in contrast to its surroundings, presented as it was in the great hall in which met the Council of the Western Marches in the distant town upon the Welsh border.  Nor did the occasion lack the heightening glamour and dramatic contrast of historical association, for in this very hall just a century and a half before, if tradition is to be credited, the unfortunate Prince Edward, son of Edward IV, was crowned before setting out with his young brother on the fatal journey which was to terminate under a forgotten flagstone in the Tower of London.

I do not propose to enter into any detailed account of the manner in which we may suppose the masque to have been performed, nor into the literary history of the poem itself; to do so would be a work of supererogation in view of the able discussion of the whole subject from the pen of Professor Masson.  The debts Milton owed to the Somnium of Puteanus, to Peele’s Old Wives’ Tale and to Fletcher’s Faithful Shepherdess, are now all more or less recognized.  From the first he probably borrowed the name and character of Comus himself, as well as a few incidental expressions.  The second contains a remarkable parallel to the search of the two brothers for their lost sister, which it is difficult to suppose fortuitous; while many passages might be cited to prove Milton’s close acquaintance with Fletcher’s poem[355].

The masque as performed at Ludlow Castle probably differed in one important particular from the form in which we know it, and which is that in which it left Milton’s hand.  This form is attested by the original quarto edition, by the texts of the Poems of 1645 and 1673, and by Milton’s manuscript draft in the volume preserved at Trinity College, Cambridge.  The variant form is found in the manuscript at Bridgewater House, reputed to be in Lawes’ handwriting, which seemingly represents the acting version.  In Milton’s text the scene discovered is a wild wood; the attendant Spirit descends, or enters, and at once launches out into a long speech in blank verse.  Lawes seems to have thought that it would be more appropriate for the Spirit—­that is, for himself, for it appears that he took the part—­to open the performance with a song, and consequently transferred to this place the first thirty-six lines of the final lyrical speech of the Spirit, substituting the words ‘From the heavens’ for Milton’s ‘To the ocean.’  The change was doubtless effective, and was skilfully made; yet one cannot help feeling that some of the magic of the poem has