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JOHN MILTON. 
 
 WITH LIFE. 
 
 Is not each great, each amiable Muse 
 Of classic ages in our MILTON met* 
 A genius universal as hia theme; 
 Astonishing as Chaos . as the bloc n 
 Of blowing Eden fair , a Heaven 6'iblinn 
 
 Complete IS&ttton* 
 
 LONDON: JOHN KENDRICE, 
 
 CHARLOTTE ROW MANSION HOUSE. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 
 
 Page. 
 
 Book I. 
 
 1 
 
 Book II. 
 
 33 
 
 Book III. 
 
 69 
 
 Book IV. 
 
 97 
 
 BookV. 
 
 133 
 
 Book VI. . ' 
 
 165 
 
 Book VII. 
 
 197 
 
 Book VIII. 
 
 221 
 
 Book IX. 
 
 245 
 
 BookX. 
 
 287 
 
 Book XI. 
 
 325 
 
 Book XII. 
 
 357 
 
 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 
 Book I. 
 
 381 
 
 Book II. 
 
 401 
 
 Book III. 
 
 419 
 
 Book IV. 
 
 437 
 
 SAMSON AGONISTES, 
 
 461 
 
 COMUS, . 
 
 523 
 
 ARCADES, 
 
 561 
 
 LYOIDAS, 
 
 567 
 
 L'ALLEGRO, 
 
 573 
 
 IL PENSEROSO, 
 
 579 
 
 SONNETS. 
 
 
 To the Nightingale, 
 On his being arrived at the age of Twenty-three, 
 
 585 
 ib. 
 
 When the Assault was intended to the City, 
 
 586 
 
 To a virtuous Young Lady, 
 
 ib. 
 
 To the Lady Margaret Ley, 
 
 587 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 On the Detraction which followed upon my writing Page, 
 
 certain Treatises, . , 588 
 
 On the Same, . . . ib. 
 
 To Mr H. Lawes, on the publishing his Airs, 5S9 
 On the religious Memory of Mrs Catherine Thomson, ib. 
 
 To the Lord General Fairfax, . . 590 
 
 To the Lord General Cromwell, . ib. 
 
 To Sir Henry Vane, the Younger, , . 591 
 
 On the late Massacre in Piedmont, . 592 
 
 On his Blindness, . . . ib. 
 
 To Mr Lawrence, . . 593 
 
 To Cyriack Skinner, . . . ib. 
 
 To the same, . . 594. 
 
 On his deceased Wife, . . ib. 
 
 ODES. 
 
 On the Morning of Christ's Nativity, 596 
 
 The Hymn, . . .597 
 
 The Passion, . . % 605 
 
 Upon the Circumcision, , . 607 
 
 On the Death of a Fair Infant, . 608 
 
 On Time, . . .611 
 
 At a Solemn Music, . . 612 
 
 An Epitaph on the Marchioness of Winchester, 613 
 
 Song on May Morning, . . 615 
 
 MISCELLANIES. 
 
 At a Vacation Exercise in the College, . 617 
 An Epitaph on the admirable dramatic poet, William 
 
 Shakspeare, . . 621 
 
 On the University Carrier, . . j^ 
 
 Another on the same, . 622 
 
 On the new Forcers of Consciences under the Long 
 
 Parliament, . . g23 
 
 TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 FRAGMENTS, . , g 2 5 
 PSALMS, 
 
LIFE OF JOHN MILTON, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 EARLY LABOURS. 
 
 JOHN MILTON was born in Bread Street, in the city of 
 London, December 9, 1608. He was descended of an an- 
 cient family of that name at Milton, near Abingdon, in Ox- 
 fordshire, where there still exists a monument of the family 
 in the parish church. During the bloody contests between 
 the houses of York and Lancaster, his ancestors allied them- 
 selves to the weaker side, and nearly all the family estates 
 were forfeited. The father of Milton was a man of consider- 
 able ability, a great proficient in music, and by profession a 
 scrivener, an honourable occupation at that period, and one 
 by which he speedily acquired a considerable fortune. His 
 parents were bigotedly attached to the Romish faith; and upon 
 his abjuring its errors, and embracing the Protestant religion, 
 he was disinherited by them. 
 
 Johnson begins his biography by remarking, that the life 
 of Milton has been already written in so many forms, and 
 with such minute inquiry, that a new one is almost super- 
 fluous; yet with all this, the account that has been preserved 
 of his early years is so meagre, as scarcely to present a single 
 characteristic incident. 
 
 Doubtless, under the instructions of a father who had suf- 
 fered for conscience-sake, Milton early acquired those high 
 views of civil and religious liberty which he advocated so 
 
LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 
 
 strenuously throughout the whole period of his life. His 
 mother also is said to have been " a woman of incomparable 
 virtue and goodness/' so that he enjoyed the highest advan- 
 tages of domestic education and example. He early exhibit- 
 ed a lively fancy, and quick powers of perception; his pro- 
 gress in every department of knowledge within his reach was 
 so rapid as to outstrip the efforts of his instructors. Even at 
 the premature age of twelve, he manifested such a thirst for 
 learning, that it required restraint rather than encourage- 
 ment, and he seldom forsook his studies till midnight. 
 
 Milton's father was himself a student of Oxford, and he 
 early destined his son for a scholar. His education was at 
 first pursued at home, under the care of Thomas Young, a 
 Puritan, who was afterwards appointed chaplain to the 
 English merchants at Hamburgh. The opinions of his tutor 
 would tend to confirm him in the views already inculcated 
 by his father; and this may in some degree furnish a clue to 
 his public life, and the unchanging hostility he afterwards 
 manifested to the established government in Church and 
 State. 
 
 From the instructions of his domestic tutor, young Milton 
 passed to St Paul's school, and from thence, at the age of fif- 
 teen, he proceeded to Christ's College, Cambridge, there to 
 acquire the higher branches of education. Even thus early 
 he gave evidence of his poetic genius, and during the first 
 two years of his residence at Cambridge, he composed his 
 poem on the Gunpowder Plot, with other productions in 
 verse, that have led an eminent critic to say of him, 
 " Milton's writings show him to have been a man from his 
 childhood." There he continued his studies till he attained 
 his twenty-fourth year; when, having taken his degree of 
 Master of Arts, he finally quitted the University, carrying 
 with him the esteem and admiration of all who knew him. 
 
 After visiting London for a short period, he retired to his 
 father's estate at Horton, in Buckinghamshire, and there he 
 spent the greater portion of the next five years of his life, 
 occupied with the study of the ancient classics, and the finest 
 works of modern European literature, and giving full play to 
 all the powers of his fine intellect, amid the sweet scenes of 
 
LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 
 
 rural retirement, a period of literary leisure and quiet do- 
 mestic enjoyment, that may justly be regarded as the hap- 
 piest of his life. He inherited from his father a passionate 
 love of music, which afforded him the means of pleasing re- 
 laxation; and long after, when shut out for ever from the 
 light of day, it solaced the declining years of the great poet. 
 
 During this period of quiet seclusion, Milton gave up his 
 mind to the delightful task of poetic composition, and fur- 
 nished in the Mask of Comus a splendid record of the early 
 development of his poetic genius in all its power. This Mask 
 was represented by the Lady Alice Egerton and her brothers, 
 the younger members of the Earl of Bridgewater's family, at 
 Ludlow Castle, on Michaelmas Eve, 1634. The story is stat- 
 ed by Symmons to have been suggested by the circumstance 
 of the Lady Alice having been separated from her company 
 in the night, and having wandered for some time in the forest 
 of Haywood, as she was returning from a distant visit, to 
 meet her father, on his taking possession of his newly intrust- 
 ed sceptre, as President of Wales. The composition and act- 
 ing of masks were favourite amusements of some of the greatest 
 men of the best era of English literature, and even the char- 
 acter of Comus had been introduced already by Ben Jonson 
 and others; but none of them surpasses this in its richness of 
 poetic thought and fine chaste simplicity. The high estima- 
 tion it secured is best shown by the fact of so many of its 
 lines having become as it were the current change of thought, 
 so that thousands who now use them are unconscious of their 
 source. This is no less characteristic of all the poetic pro- 
 ductions of this period of retirement; the Arcades, the 
 Lycidas, L 'Allegro, and II Penseroso, were all written within 
 these five years ; and the reader who peruses them for the 
 first time will be astonished to find how familiar he already 
 is with many of their finest thoughts, which have excited 
 such universal sympathy and admiration, that they have be- 
 come common household words throughout the land. 
 
 Milton had long wished to improve his knowledge by ob- 
 serving the customs and institutions of other countries; the 
 death of his mother in 1637, by removing one of the strongest 
 domestic ties, seems to have set him at liberty to prosecute 
 
LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 
 
 his favourite object; and, accordingly, he obtained his father's 
 consent in the following year, and proceeded on a European 
 tour. He received at this tune a friendly letter of advice 
 from the celebrated Sir Henry Wotton, formerly ambassador 
 to the Republic of Venice, in which he intimates his know- 
 ledge of the authorship of Comus, adding, " that he had seen 
 yet nothing parallel to it in our language/' 
 
 On his arrival at Paris, he was introduced by Lord Scuda- 
 more to the celebrated Grotius, then ambassador from Chris- 
 tina, Queen of Sweden. The French capital, however, seems 
 to have excited in him but little interest; and after a very 
 brief stay, he proceeded on his route, visiting Nice, Genoa, 
 Pisa, and Florence. The last city excited his liveliest ad- 
 miration. The place, the language and manners of the peo- 
 ple, and the interesting circle of literary men to whom he 
 was introduced, all afforded him a high source of gratification. 
 He continued there above two months, and afterwards kept 
 up frequent correspondence with several eminent men of 
 learning to whom he had been introduced. 
 
 From Florence he proceeded to Rome, which impressed 
 his mind as strongly by its decaying monuments of the past, 
 as Florence did by its living beauty; there also he was at 
 once admitted to the society of the most learned men of the 
 day, and derived the highest gratification from the rich stores 
 of classical learning which were thrown open to him in the 
 library of the Vatican. 
 
 After visiting Naples, he was preparing to continue his 
 travels through Sicily and Greece, when the news of the 
 state of affairs at home, just then tending to the outbreak of 
 the first civil war, induced him to direct his course home- 
 ward, " deeming it," says his nephew, " a thing unworthy of 
 him to be diverting himself in security abroad, when his 
 countrymen were contending with an insidious monarch for 
 their liberty." On his way home he again spent some time 
 at Rome and Florence, though against the advice of some 
 friends who feared he had rendered himself obnoxious to the 
 machinations of the Romanists by the free expressions of his 
 opinions. It little coincided with the courage and nobleness 
 of his mind, either to shun such danger, or, by a line of du- 
 
LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 
 
 plicity, to avoid such offence. Without courting controversy, 
 he never hesitated freely to express opinions when circum- 
 stances seemed to require it, and though not without some 
 danger, he returned home in safety, with his mind stored 
 with enlarged views, and his imagination filled with the 
 grandeur and beauty derived from beholding the noble re- 
 mains of ancient Rome, and the most splendid creations of 
 modern art. He had visited and conversed with the great 
 Galileo, then a prisoner in the Inquisition, and in spite of his 
 religion and the bold expression of his opinions, he had form- 
 ed lasting friendships with some of the most eminent men in 
 the south of Europe, and had received from all marks of 
 honour and esteem. 
 
 After an absence of about fifteen months, Milton returned 
 to England, just as Charles the First was setting out on his 
 second expedition against the Scots. On his return, he un- 
 dertook the education of two of his nephews ; and soon after 
 he was induced by some of his friends to admit their sons to 
 the same privilege. On this Dr Johnson remarks, " Let not 
 our veneration for Milton forbid us to look with some degree 
 of merriment on great promises and small performance : on 
 the man who hastens home because his countrymen are con- 
 tending for their liberty, and when he reaches the scene of 
 action, vapours away his patriotism in a private boarding- 
 school." This unworthy sneer is easily confuted. Milton 
 knew his own intellectual powers too well even had he pos- 
 sessed the necessary bodily strength to imagine that the on- 
 ly, or even the most useful course that lay open for him in 
 the cause of liberty, was the profession of arms ; and his la- 
 bours with his pen during the long continuance of the con- 
 test, afford the best evidence that he lent his energies with 
 no grudging hand to the cause of liberty. 
 
 They must be very ignorant of the history of England at 
 this period who imagine that Milton was avoiding the post of 
 danger, in thus taking up the pen as his weapon of war. 
 Laud had already organized that systematic persecution of 
 the Puritans, which, by the cruel lawlessness with which it 
 was pursued, needed the evils of a revolution to wipe away 
 the stain from the nation : and the unhappy king, with his 
 
LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 
 
 high notions of prerogative, had abundantly shown that he 
 would permit no law to stand between him and his opponents. 
 The cruelties enforced by the Star- Chamber on such victims 
 as Prynne, Bastwick, and Leighton, may afford some concep- 
 tion of the dangers that Milton voluntarily dared in returning 
 to his country, and thus boldly defending his opinions at such 
 a time. 
 
 From his efforts for the removal of ecclesiastical grievances, 
 he next applied himself to securing the liberty of the press. 
 He had already set at defiance the law's restrictions on its 
 just freedom, and now he exposed with masterly vigour the 
 evils engendered by its thraldom. In this noble work the 
 passage occurs in which he speaks of Galileo, a victf c\ of the 
 same system that denied the free expression of opinions, 
 against which he was now contending. " There it was, in 
 Italy," says he, " that I found and visited the famous Galileo, 
 grown old a prisoner in the Inquisition, for thinking in astro- 
 nomy otherwise than the Franciscan and Dominican licensers 
 thought. And though I knew that England was groaning 
 loudest under the prelatic yoke, nevertheless 1 took it for a 
 pledge of future happiness, that other nations were so per- 
 suaded of her liberty. Yet was it beyond my hope, that those 
 worthies who were then breathing in her air, should be her 
 leaders to such a deliverance as shall never be forgotten by 
 any revolution of time that this world hath to finish/' 
 
 It was not till a second revolution had finally banished the 
 Stuarts from the throne, that the press was freed from the 
 trammels under which it had been so long restrained, and left 
 to develope its mighty energies for the national well-being. 
 
 CHiPTER II. 
 
 POLITICAL LIFE. 
 
 AT the age of thirty-five, Milton married Mary, the daugh- 
 ter of Richard Powell, a wealthy royalist, and justice of the 
 peace in Oxfordshire. No account is preserved of the cir- 
 cumstances that led to this union; but it proved unhappy, 
 and gave rise to incidents in his life which the biographer 
 
LIFE OF JOHN MILTON, 
 
 would gladly omit. They had only been married a month 
 when the young bride sought permission to spend the rest of 
 the summer with her friends in Oxfordshire. The request 
 is scarcely less singular than the immediate compliance it 
 met with. The period of Michaelmas was fixed for her re- 
 turn, but she came not ; and repeated letters from her hus- 
 band were even left unanswered. Milton then sent a messen- 
 ger, demanding her immediate return home, when she at length 
 positively refused to come, dismissing his messenger with 
 contempt. From all that appears, the probability seems to 
 be that the fault lay more with her relatives than herself; 
 they seem to have sanctioned the marriage with the zealous 
 republican when their party appeared to be on the wane, 
 and to have repented of the match when a temporary success 
 of the royalists had revived their hopes, the haughty cavaliers 
 being probably somewhat ashamed of an alliance with one 
 who took so active a part against royalty. This at least may 
 be concluded, that she was a young and frivolous girl, little 
 fitted to be the companion of such a man. The reasons as- 
 signed in her defence abundantly confirm this : it is stated 
 that she had been accustomed to a great deal of company, 
 with merriment and dancing, so that she found her married 
 life solitary and irksome, and at length went home to her 
 parents. 
 
 Whatever were the reasons for her departure, all attempts 
 of Milton to prevail on her to return proved ineffectual; 
 and, with a just feeling of indignation, he declared that he 
 no longer held her as his wife. This occurrence set him 
 seriously to consider the nature of those obligations involved 
 in the marriage tie, in consequence of which he published his 
 work on the Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce, which led 
 him into various controversies, conducted on his part with 
 his usual energy. 
 
 Fully four years elapsed without Milton meeting with his 
 wife, and he had taken the most decided steps to show his 
 conviction that all ties between them were dissolved. Time, 
 however, had led her to repent of her foolish step ; and learn- 
 ing of his intention to visit a common friend, she suddenly 
 presented herself before him, and throwing herself at his 
 
 b 
 
LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 
 
 feet, with tears besought his forgiveness. A perfect recon- 
 ciliation took place between them, and so completely did he 
 overlook all that had passed, that he soon after received into 
 his own house her father and mother, and several of her bro- 
 thers and sisters, affording them an asylum there, and exert- 
 ing all his political influence in their behalf, when they were 
 involved in the final overthrow of the royal cause. 
 
 The pen of Milton was again called into requisition on a 
 subject of the highest public value. He put forth his " Trea- 
 tise on Education/' a work intended to strike at the root of 
 the prevalent system of employing the whole time and ener- 
 gies of the youthful mind in mastering one or two dead lan- 
 guages. Fully two centuries have since elapsed, but so slow 
 is the mass of mankind in receiving the wisdom of its great 
 teacher, that we are only now beginning to apply the sound 
 suggestions which he so eloquently enforced. 
 
 Within a year after his reunion with his wife, his family 
 was increased by the birth of a daughter, Anne, the eldest of 
 his children, who was lame either from her birth, or in con- 
 sequence of some accident in her early infancy. His second 
 daughter, Mary, was born in the same large house in the 
 Barbican, which had sufficed to accommodate his numerous 
 train of dependant relatives. Shortly after their departure, 
 he quitted this house for a smaller one in Holborn, opening 
 into Lincoln's Inn Fields ; and there he continued to reside, 
 closely engaged in a variety of studies, till his acceptance of 
 the office of Latin Secretary to the Commonwealth rendered 
 a situation nearer to Whitehall an object of convenience to 
 him. 
 
 In 1649 the grand climax of successive civil wars was at 
 length accomplished in the death of the king. Milton was 
 in no way implicated in this act of judicial judgment by the 
 popular leaders on their king; but he viewed with disgust 
 the lamentations of the Presbyterian party for the final ac- 
 complishment of the result which they had so long laboured 
 to bring about; and to meet the exigencies of the period, he 
 published his " Tenure of Kings and Magistrates." " This 
 work," he says, * was not published till after the death of 
 the king, and was written rather to tranquillize the minds of 
 
LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 
 
 men, than to discuss any part of the question respecting 
 Charles a question, the decision of which belonged to the 
 magistrate and not to me, and which had now received its 
 final determination." 
 
 During Milton's residence in his new apartments in Scot- 
 land-yard, his third child, a son, was born, but he only sur- 
 vived a few months. From this he removed, in 1652, to a 
 handsome house opening into St James's Park, adjoining the 
 mansion of Lord Scudamore, and here he continued to reside 
 till the Restoration. 
 
 Charles, the son of the late king, anxious to appeal to the 
 courts of Europe against the judgment of the people of Eng- 
 land, employed, as his advocate, Salmasius, an honorary pro- 
 fessor in the University of Leyden. It would have been dif- 
 ficult for Charles readily to have found a foreigner at this 
 period well qualified for the task, but in his choice he seems 
 to have been peculiarly unfortunate. This man, though pos- 
 sessed of great erudition and considerable critical acumen, 
 was altogether destitute of those practical talents that were 
 needed for the work imposed on him ; and, above all, he was 
 utterly ignorant of the entire facts and bearings of the ques- 
 tion he thus undertook to exhibit in its true light to others ; 
 so that he was entirely dependant for his materials on the 
 prejudiced representations of ruined cavaliers. 
 
 In reply to the work thus produced, Milton published in 
 1651, his " Defence of the People of England," giving in it, 
 perhaps, the noblest instance of self-sacrifice that ever pa- 
 triotism offered. He had already greatly injured his eyes by 
 his protracted studies, and his physicians now assured him 
 that unless he abandoned this labour, he must lose his sight. 
 " On this occasion," says Milton, replying to an antagonist 
 who had made his blindness a reproach, " I reflected that 
 many had purchased with a superior evil a lighter good, 
 glory with death ; to me, on the contrary, greater good was 
 purchased with an inferior evil ; so that by incurring blind- 
 ness alone, I might fulfil the most honourable of all duties." 
 
 The unanimous voice of the Council had called him to this 
 work, and the reception it met with on the Continent was 
 such as might have satisfied the highest ambition ; enemies 
 
LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 
 
 no less than friends manifested their sense of its power. It 
 was publicly burned at Paris and Toulouse. It was trans- 
 lated into Dutch for the special benefit of the countrymen of 
 Salmasius, to his own extreme vexation, while the States- 
 General ordered its suppression as a national disgrace. Its 
 author received the highest encomiums from the most emi- 
 nent men in Europe. Queen Christina of Sweden especially 
 marked her admiration of his work ; but above all, it com- 
 pletely accomplished the purpose for which it was written, 
 so that his unfortunate opponent was utterly overwhelmed 
 in the encounter. He possessed all the extravagant vanity 
 of a pedant, so that he must have felt with proportionate 
 acuteness his humiliating overthrow. Even his own friends 
 made it matter of complaint that his work was never heard 
 of, while his antagonist's reply was the theme of interest to 
 every court of Europe. 
 
 Europe indeed seemed to be astonished at the genius thus 
 displayed by one. unknown before, and whose work did not 
 win its way to public estimation by the gradual steps of a li- 
 terary fame, but burst upon it at once with a blaze of splen- 
 dour. " The scholars of Europe," says Symmons, " actuated 
 by a similar spirit with the spectators of the old Olympian 
 games, threw garlands on the conqueror of Salmasius ;" and 
 the ambassadors then in London acknowledged the universal 
 estimation of the author by official visits. 
 
 Salmasius laboured without success to produce an answer 
 to this masterly defence. He died in 1653, the victim, as 
 was generally believed, of wounded pride, leaving it unfinish- 
 ed; and when at length the fragment was published, the 
 people of England had reversed their judgment by a "glori- 
 ous restoration;" and it was as useless, as it was dangerous, 
 for Milton to reply. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 HIS BLINDNESS. 
 
 ON the 2d of May, 1662, Milton's family was increased by 
 another daughter, at the cost of her mother's life. The ac- 
 
LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. XIX 
 
 count of his nephew affords abundant evidence that Milton, 
 in receiving back his wife to that place in his home which 
 she had so rashly forfeited, with the generosity of a noble 
 mind, buried the past in oblivion, though she was probably 
 no help-meet for such a man. Yet their domestic life had 
 been the source of endearing ties ; and now when suddenly 
 bereft of her society, and left with three orphan daughters, 
 his solitude was rendered the more painful by the rapid ad- 
 rances of blindness. 
 
 His mind must have been long prepared for this trying 
 affliction. In a letter to a friend about this period, he says, 
 " It is about ten years, I think, since I perceived my sight 
 to grow weak and dim ;" and he adds, that the sight of one 
 eye had almost entirely disappeared fully three years before 
 the other was much affected. That which his physicians 
 had foretold was now rapidly hastening to its fatal accom- 
 plishment, but he repined not at the irreparable loss. He 
 had fallen as the good soldier falls, foremost in the battle- 
 field in his country's cause, and he considered that no un- 
 worthy shrine whereon to lay so costly a sacrifice. As a 
 Christian, he bore the privation with noble fortitude ; as a 
 patriot, with the just consciousness of having deserved well 
 of his country, a debt still unpaid ; for England, proud of 
 the Poet whom the world reveres, has shrunk from the ac- 
 knowledgment of the Patriot's claims ; and the monument 
 that bears his name in Westminster Abbey is more a memo- 
 rial of its titled donor than a tribute to the memory of Eng- 
 land's gifted son. 
 
 " It is not miserable to be blind," says Milton, with calm 
 dignity, in reply to one of his heartless antagonists. " He 
 only is miserable who cannot acquiesce in his blindness with 
 fortitude; and why should I repine at a calamity which every 
 man's mind ought to be so prepared and disciplined, as to be 
 able to undergo with patience; a calamity to which every 
 man by the condition of his nature is liable, and which I 
 know to have been the lot of some of the greatest and best 
 of my species ?" 
 
 So completely unimpaired were his energies, that he con- 
 tinued till the Restoration to dictate all the most important 
 
LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 
 
 foreign correspondence of the Commonwealth. In this high 
 office he took an active share in the foreign policy of Crom- 
 well, which, whatever be the opinion formed of the Protec- 
 torate, as the government of a free people, is universally ac- 
 knowledged to have elevated England to the highest rank 
 among the kingdoms of Europe, to have made her respected 
 and feared wherever she was known. Milton penned the 
 indignant remonstrance that stayed the sword of persecution 
 against the helpless Protestants of Piedmont, as well as the 
 sonnet that records their sufferings. He conducted the bold 
 correspondence that set at defiance the haughty bigotry of 
 Spain; and Johnson closes his narrative of this period of his 
 life with this account: <f His agency was considered as of 
 great importance ; for when a treaty with Sweden was art- 
 fully suspended, the delay was publicly imputed to Milton's 
 indisposition; and the Swedish agent was provoked to express 
 his wonder that only one man in England could write Latin, 
 and that man blind/' 
 
 Like other great geniuses, Milton appears to have sought 
 relaxation only in a change of mental labour. His habit was 
 to devote as many hours each day to intense study as his fa- 
 culties could bear, and he now engaged in this manner on 
 three great works; a Latin Dictionary, which, though never 
 published, served as the basis of one afterwards issued from 
 the Cambridge press; a History of England, and his great 
 epic poem. 
 
 The dependent situation in which he was now placed by 
 the loss of his sight, and with a young family around him, 
 which his studious habits were alone sufficient to have inca- 
 pacitated him from taking any charge of, speedily induced him 
 to marry again. He chose as his second wife, Catherine, the 
 daughter of Captain Woodcock, a zealous republican. She 
 proved a most tender and affectionate wife, and Milton seems 
 to have been devotedly attached to her ; but their happiness 
 was destined to be very brief. Within the year of their mar- 
 riage she gave birth to a daughter, and very soon followed 
 her to the grave. 
 
 In 1665, he was joined in his office of Latin Secretary by 
 his friend, Andrew Marvell ; and after his severe affliction, 
 
LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 
 
 he seems to have withdrawn into the closest retirement, only 
 visiting the court or government offices when absolutely call- 
 ed thither by his public duties. He was equally silent as an 
 author for several years. In a letter, written the year before 
 CromwelFs death, to a young friend in Holland, who had 
 besought his influence for him in some public matter, he says, 
 " I have very few familiars with the gratiosi of the court, 
 who keep myself almost wholly at home, and am willing to 
 do so/' 
 
 Milton seems to have felt at this period that the time for 
 using his pen in behalf of the Commonwealth was past. Not- 
 withstanding all that has been said on the subject by politi- 
 tical opponents and injudicious apologists, there seems no 
 reason to think that Milton disapproved of the general policy 
 of Cromwell. He willingly lent his services till the close of 
 the Protectorate, and he was not the man to co-operate in a 
 government he deemed inimical to the true interests of his 
 country. During the convulsions that succeeded, the proba- 
 bility of his writing being productive of any benefit was still 
 more doubtful, and he remarked on it in a letter to an old 
 pupil, " My country does not now stand in need of a person 
 to record her intestine commotions, but of one qualified to 
 bring them to an auspicious conclusion/' 
 
 The crisis that seemed rapidly approaching, at length urged 
 him to make a last effort in the cause of liberty; and he pub- 
 lished, almost immediately before the Restoration had been 
 determined on by the leaders that now assumed the govern- 
 ment, an eloquent remonstrance against abandoning "this 
 goodly tower of a Commonwealth which they had begun to 
 build/' foretelling in strong language what proved to be the 
 consequences of restoring the hereditary claimant to the 
 throne. But the courageous effort in behalf of his favourite 
 scheme of a republic was addressed to unwilling ears. Gen- 
 eral Monk had already taken his resolution, and this display 
 of Milton's patriot zeal was made in vain. 
 
XX11 LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE RESTORATION. 
 
 GENERAL MONK having perfected his arrangements, and 
 the Parliament concluded their negociations with Charles II. 
 at Breda, Milton was discharged from his office as Latin Se- 
 cretary. He was compelled to secrete himself for a time in 
 a friend's house in St Bartholomew Close until the first burst 
 of vindictive rage in the triumphant royalists was past ; and 
 the more effectually to screen him from the search that would 
 otherwise have been instituted, his friends spread a report of 
 his death, and, assembling in mournful procession, followed 
 his supposed corpse to the grave. On the King afterwards 
 learning of this device, it is said to have afforded him much 
 mirth, and he commended his policy " in escaping death by 
 a seasonable show of dying/* 
 
 In this concealment he remained safe, while some of his 
 old friends expiated their alleged offences by bloody execu- 
 tion, and other cruel indignities, as regicides. Even his pub 
 lie funeral did not stay the issue of a proclamation for his 
 arrest, though it probably prevented any further search. 
 The Parliament endeavoured to testify their loyalty by or- 
 dering the Attorney-General to commence a prosecution a- 
 gainst him; and immediately before the passing of the Gene- 
 ral Act of Oblivion, his two books, the " Eiconoclastes," and 
 the " Defence of the People," were publicly burned by the 
 common hangman. The same had been done to the latter 
 work long before at Paris ; and now the unfinished reply of 
 Salmasius was published, to crown the whole, it may well be 
 believed only exciting a smile hi him against whom these an- 
 noyances were directed. 
 
 Fortunately for the honour of England the name of Milton 
 was not included in the list of exceptions to the Act of Obli- 
 vion; and accordingly, on its passing, he left his place of con- 
 cealment where he had continued nearly four months, only 
 three days after the burning of his writings. 
 
 He was arrested on his appearance by the obsequious Par- 
 liament, but released after a time on the payment of costly 
 
LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 
 
 fees. From this time till his death, he interfered no more in 
 politics, though ever faithful to his cause ; he withdrew en- 
 tirely into private life, content, like Bacon, to leave his repu- 
 tation to the judgment of posterity. 
 
 He had on many occasions exercised his influence during 
 the period of the Commonwealth, in acts of generosity and 
 benevolence to the discomfited royalists. Sir William Dave- 
 nant, the poet-laureate of Charles, owed his life to his inter- 
 cession, and it became a graceful act of gratitude to use his 
 influence in returning the favour. But from this period the 
 few friends of the blind old man seemed to have been found 
 among those who, having sympathized with him in his high 
 aspirations for the people's liberty, now mourned over the 
 dissolute excesses in which every hope of it was being swept 
 away. 
 
 The account furnished by Aubrey as to the periods at 
 which he wrote the Paradise Lost, is further corroborated 
 both by external and internal evidence. According to him 
 it was begun two years before the restoration of the king, 
 and finished about three years after that event. It formed 
 his solace and occupation during those months of conceal- 
 ment, to which a passage in the seventh book is, with much 
 probability, supposed to allude. 
 
 Released, however, as we have seen, from his anxious dur- 
 ance, he withdrew to a small house in the Artillery Walk, 
 near Bunhill Fields; a humble dwelling, suited to his reduced 
 circumstances, where he continued to reside during the re- 
 mainder of his life. 
 
 The poet, now experiencing the premature advances of 
 age, with his name held up to public scorn, his hopes blight- 
 ed, and his means of support withdrawn, had yet added to all 
 these the bitterness of ungrateful children. His two eldest 
 daughters seem to have been destitute alike of aflection and 
 pity; and he who was from his infirmities so peculiarly de- 
 pendant on domestic enjoyments, found there his sharpest 
 sorrows. Such circumstances must almost have compelled 
 him to seek again to supply their undutiful neglect by mar- 
 riage; and, accordingly, shortly after this, in his fifty-fourth 
 year, he married his third wife, Elizabeth Minshall, the 
 
XXIV LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 
 
 daughter of a gentleman in -Cheshire. He is said to have 
 formed this attachment on the recommendation of his friend, 
 Dr Paget, an eminent physician of the city, to whom the 
 lady was related. 
 
 The marriage was probably rather dictated by prudence 
 and mutual respect than any deeper feelings; but Aubrey, to 
 whom she was personally known, mentions her as " a gentle 
 person, of a peaceful and agreeable humour/' Her memory 
 deserves to be had in grateful remembrance by the admirers 
 of the great poet ; she alleviated his sufferings, soothed his 
 cares, and proved to him a tender and affectionate wife. 
 
 It is painful to reflect on this great and good man needing 
 a protector against his own daughters ; and with those who 
 have proved themselves so ready to avail themselves of every 
 means of blasting his reputation, and casting a shadow around 
 his great name, this has not been overlooked as a source of 
 defamation. But it is pleasing to think that he had, in his 
 youngest daughter, Deborah, one dutiful and favourite child, 
 who deemed it no cruelty to be required to read to her blind 
 father, or pen for him his immortal works. 
 
 The discovery of Milton's will, which had been long sought 
 in vain, brought to light much interesting information re- 
 garding his domestic life, exhibiting the suffering to which 
 he was subjected by the ingratitude of those most bound to 
 alleviate his misfortunes ; while it brings out his own disposi- 
 tion in a remarkably pleasing and amiable light. It may in 
 some degree account for the conduct of his daughters, though 
 it cannot be an excuse for it that they were early left with- 
 out a mother, and their father, from studious habits and 
 official duties, as well as his early loss of sight, was unable to 
 take any charge of them, so that they may have been ex- 
 posed to injurious influence from those around them. But, 
 however it may be accounted for, their treatment of their 
 father is proved to have been most heartless and cruel. 
 
 The will was set aside from, some technical objection, and 
 owing to the litigation consequent on its being disputed, a 
 collection of evidence relating to its author has been pre- 
 served of an unusually minute and interesting character. A 
 servant gives evidence that her deceased master, a little be- 
 
LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 
 
 fore his marriage, had lamented to her the ingratitude and 
 cruelty of his children ; and it is shown they had defrauded 
 him in a way that must have been doubly felt by him, not 
 only overreaching him in the economy of the house, but dis- 
 posing of his books, and often bartering them with the huck- 
 sters at the door for any trifle they might offer. 
 
 We have already seen the dangers to which Milton was ex- 
 posed at the Restoration, and abundant evidence exists to 
 show that the rancorous feelings of the royalists followed 
 him till his death; that they insulted over him in his poverty, 
 and rejoiced at his sufferings, as marks of the special ven- 
 geance of God, and a doom worse than the axe he had 
 
 The following story has been preserved, exhibiting this in 
 a very characteristic manner. 
 
 The Duke of York, afterwards James II., expressed one 
 day to the king, his brother, a great desire to see old Milton, 
 of whom he had heard so much. The king replied that he 
 had not the slightest objection to the duke's satisfying his 
 curiosity; and, accordingly, soon afterwards, James went 
 privately to Milton's house, where, after an introduction, 
 which explained to the old republican the rank of his guest, 
 a free conversation ensued between these very dissimilar and 
 discordant characters. In the course, however, of the con- 
 versation, the duke asked Milton whether he did not regard 
 the loss of his eye-sight as a judgment inflicted on him for 
 what he had written against the late king. Milton's reply 
 was to this effect: " If your highness thinks that the calami- 
 ties which befall us here are indications of the wrath of 
 Heaven, in what manner are we to account for the fate of 
 the king, your father? The displeasure of Heaven must, 
 upon this supposition, have been much greater against him 
 than me for I have only lost my eyes, but he lost his head/' 
 
 Much discomposed by this answer, the duke speedily took 
 his leave. On his return to court, the first words which he 
 spoke to the king were, " Brother, you are greatly to blame 
 that you do not have that old rogue Milton hanged." " Why, 
 what is the matter, James ? Have you seen Milton ?" " Yes," 
 answered the duke, " I have seen him." " Well," said the 
 
LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 
 
 king, "in what condition did you find him?" " Condition ? 
 why he is old and very poor." " Old and poor ! Well, and 
 he is blind, too is he not ?" " Yes, blind as a beetle/' * 
 " Why, then," observed the king, " you are a fool, James, to 
 have him hanged as a punishment; to hang him will be doing 
 him a service; it will be taking him out of his miseries. No 
 if he is old, poor, and blind, he is miserable enough; in all 
 conscience let him live." 
 
 The story is so consistent throughout, and so characteristic 
 of the different dispositions of the parties, that it bears in- 
 ternal evidence of authenticity, and exhibits very strikingly 
 the gay and gloomy malignity of the two royal brothers, 
 Charles and James, 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 THE labours of Milton, altogether independent of his great 
 Epic, were such as must have rendered his memory an object 
 of interest to after-ages; but his immortal poem, as we have 
 seen, was the object of his life, from which he turned only at 
 the call of duty, and when the circumstances of his country 
 summoned him to enlist his gifted mind in the cause of 
 freedom. 
 
 His last wife, who survived him, in a state of widowhood, 
 nearly fifty-five years, has recorded interesting information 
 as to its progress. She states that her husband composed 
 principally in the winter; and on his waking in the morning, 
 would make her write down sometimes twenty or thirty 
 verses. His natural disposition inclined him to deep and 
 earnest study, and the loss of his sight must have greatly in- 
 creased his proneness to contemplation, and indeed compell- 
 ed him to find therein his chief enjoyment. His circum- 
 stances latterly precluded him from engaging a permanent 
 assistant in the capacity of private secretary, which was 
 the only means that could have supplied in any measure hi& 
 great loss. We find him, accordingly, subjected to many 
 
LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. XXV11 
 
 difficulties, and compelled to treasure his compositions in his 
 memory until chance afforded him the aid of some friendly 
 transcriber. The petty calls of daily domestic duties in his 
 scanty household must have frequently broken in upon the 
 rapt fervour of poetic thought, when he sought the aid of his 
 wife's willing pen. A lively illustration is afforded of these 
 difficulties, in the postscript to a Latin letter addressed to 
 Heimbach, an accomplished German: " Let me obtain from 
 you this favour, that if you find any parts of this incorrectly 
 written, you will impute it to the boy who writes for me, 
 who is utterly ignorant of Latin, and to whom I am forced 
 (wretchedly enough) to repeat every single syllable that I 
 dictate." 
 
 He often made considerable pauses in the progress of his 
 great work, doubtless sometimes occasioned by such difficul- 
 ties, but also from that preference for the winter season to 
 which his wife alludes. His nephew, Philips, to whom we 
 are indebted for an interesting and incidental narrative, re- 
 marks, " I had the perusal of the Paradise Lost from the very 
 beginning for some years as I went from time to time to 
 visit him in parcels of ten, twenty, or thirty verses at a 
 time; which, being written by whatever hand came next, 
 might possibly want correction as to the orthography and 
 pointing. Having as the summer came on, not been shown 
 any for a considerable while, and desiring the reason thereof, 
 I was answered that his vein never happily flowed but from 
 the autumnal equinox to the vernal." 
 
 It is a curious fact in the history of the great Epic, that, 
 when completely prepared for the press, it narrowly escaped 
 suppression from the ignorance or malice of the Licenser. 
 This office, which had been abolished during the Protectorate, 
 was restored by Charles II. Under the new regulations, poetry 
 came within the province of the Archbishop of Canterbury, 
 and the fate of the Paradise Lost was accordingly committed 
 to the judgment of the Rev. Thomas Tomkyns, one of his 
 chaplains. The reverend Licenser was doubtless prepared to 
 find treason in every line, and speedily pounced on a well- 
 known passage in the first book, as containing treason in its 
 most malignant form: - - 
 
XXviii LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 
 
 " . As when the sun new risen 
 
 Looks through the horizontal misty air 
 Shorn of his heams, or from behind the moon 
 In dim eclipse disastrous twilight sheds 
 On half the nations, and with fear of change 
 Perplexes monarchs." 
 
 The particulars of this fortunate escape from so dangerous 
 an obstruction have not been preserved; but much as we may 
 now be disposed to smile at the absurd objection, the world 
 has cause to rejoice that party malice and rancour did not 
 succeed in strangling the immortal poem in its birth. 
 
 Milton was accustomed, as we have already mentioned, to 
 employ his daughters to read to him, as well as to transcribe 
 from, his dictation, but on their expressing dislike to such 
 occupations in the service of their blind father, he at once 
 dispensed with their assistance, and set them to learn the 
 working of embroidery in gold and silver an art which, at 
 that time, formed one of the chief employments of females 
 of rank and fortune. From that time forward, he always 
 engaged some young man for this honourable service. Short- 
 ly after his last marriage, his kind friend Dr Paget, who had 
 been his adviser in the choice of a wife, introduced to him 
 the amiable but singular Thomas Ellwood, who added to the 
 most conscientious adherence to the tenets and practices of 
 the Quakers, an ardent thirst for learning, and a keen relish 
 for poetry. 
 
 We are indebted to him for some interesting notices of 
 Milton, which occur in his minute history of his own life. 
 Ellwood, at this time about three-and-twenty, was the son of 
 a justice of the peace in Oxfordshire, who, from motives of 
 economy, took him early from school. After several years 
 had been wasted in this forced idleness, he adopted with 
 great zeal the novel tenets of Quakerism, submitting to much 
 cruel treatment from his father, as well as to long imprison- 
 ments at different periods of his life, on account of his reli- 
 gious opinions. By the mediation of Dr Paget, he obtained 
 access to Milton, and engaged to read to him such authors as 
 he desired. 
 
 The object of Ellwood in seeking this introduction, was to 
 increase the scanty share of learning his father's mercenary 
 
LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 
 
 conduct had permitted him to acquire. He accordingly de- 
 Toted a portion of each day to reading aloud such Latin 
 authors as Milton wished to hear read; and the gentleness 
 and courtesy with which the latter condescended to all his 
 difficulties, and sought to make their intercourse profitable 
 to his young friend, manifest how strangely the native kind- 
 ness of his disposition has been falsified by those who repre- 
 sent him as harsh and morose. But their intercourse ex- 
 perienced many painful interruptions ; long sickness, on one 
 occasion, and successive arbitrary imprisonments afterwards, 
 separated them, so that learning, as the poor youth remarks, 
 was almost a forbidden fruit to him. 
 
 During the prevalence of the plague in London in 1665, 
 Ellwood manifested his gratitude to his instructor, by ob- 
 taining for him a pleasant little cottage at Chalfont, in Buck- 
 inghamshire, near to which he was then engaged in the capa- 
 city of tutor in a wealthy Quaker's family. On his first visit 
 to Milton in this new retreat, he was shown the manuscript 
 of the Paradise Lost. 
 
 On their next interview after Ellwood had " modestly and 
 freely" expressed his opinion, he adds, " I pleasantly said to 
 him, Thou hast said much here of Paradise Lost, but what 
 hast thou to say of Paradise Found ?" Nothing more was 
 said on this subject at the time; but when, at a later period, 
 in London, Milton showed him the Paradise Regained, he 
 added, " This is owing to you, for you put it into my head, 
 by the question you put to me at Chalfont, which before I 
 had not thought of." 
 
 The first edition of the Paradise Lost was published in 1665, 
 the author receiving, as is well known, the sum of five 
 pounds for his immortal work, with a further condition of 
 receiving fifteen pounds more, should it reach a third edition ! 
 Whatever be the feelings of sorrow or indignation with which 
 his admirers may now regard this fact, it is to the honour of 
 his countrymen, that in defiance of the prejudices and per- 
 sonal enmity of his contemporaries, its sale was rapid, and 
 the admiration it excited almost universal. Some of the 
 most eminent men of his time addressed to him the highest 
 
XXX 
 
 LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 
 
 eulogies; and its first announcement to the world, as related 
 by Richardson, was worthy of its pre-eminent worth. 
 
 Sir John Denman, a man distinguished as a soldier, a sen- 
 ator, and a poet, entered the House of Commons with a 
 proof-sheet of Milton's work, wet from the press, and ex- 
 claimed, " This is part of the noblest poem that ever was 
 written in any language or in any age;" and Dryden's ex- 
 clamation on first seeing it was no less pithy " This man 
 cuts us all out, and the ancients too !" 
 
 With the close of his great life-work, we may end this bio- 
 graphical sketch. Ere the first edition of his poem had been 
 sold, he was numbered with the mighty dead. "JS$ith_a.dis- 
 solujbion so easy that it was unperceived by the persons in his 
 bed-chamber, he closed a life, clouded indeed by uncommon 
 and various calamities, yet ennobled by the constant exercise 
 of such rare endowments, aa render his name, perhaps the 
 very first in that radiant and comprehensive list, of which 
 England, the most fertile of countries in the produce of men- 
 tal power, has reason to be proud/' 
 
 His funeral was attended by " all his learned and great 
 friends in London, not without a friendly concourse of the 
 vulgar." His place of burial is in the church of St Giles's, 
 Cripplegate, and there England's noblest poet was committed 
 to the dust, calm in the Christian's sure and certain hope of 
 a blessed immortality. 
 
PARADISE L08T.U,N,'V 
 
 BOOK I 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The first Book proposes, first in brief, the whole subject, .Man's 
 disobedience, and the loss thereupon of Paradise, wherein 
 he was placed. Then touches the prime cause of his fall, the 
 serpent, or rather Satan in the serpent; who, revolting from 
 God, and drawing to his side many legions of angels, was 
 by the command of God driven out of heaven, with all his 
 crew, into the great deep. Which action passed over, the 
 Poem hastens into the midst of things, presenting Satan with 
 his angels now fallen into hell, described here, not in the 
 I $entr% ffoy heaven and earth may be supposed as yet not 
 \/ $4^4 fyrfyinly not yet accursed,) but in a place of utter 
 \ aarkness' fittest called Chaos: here Satan, with his angels 
 ItyinQ* on Jhe burning lake, &under-struck and astonished, 
 lafter*certdirfspace recovers, as from confusion, calls up 
 I him who next in order and dignity lay by him: they con- 
 fer of their miserable fall. Satan awakens all his legions, 
 who lay till then in the same manner confounded: they 
 rise, their numbers, array of battle; their chief leaders nam- 
 ed, according to the idols known afterwards in Canaan and 
 the countries adjoining. To these Satan directs his speech; 
 comforts them with hope yet of ^regaining heaven, but tells 
 them lastly of a new world and new kind of creature to be 
 created, according to an ancient prophecy or report in hea- 
 ven: for that angels were long before this visible creation, 
 was the opinion of many ancient Fathers. To find out the 
 truth of this prophecy, and ivhat to determine thereon, he 
 refers to full councit. What his associates thence attempt. 
 Pandemonium, the palace of Satan, rises, suddenly built 
 out of the deep: the infernal Peers there sit in council. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 OF Man's first disobedience, and the fruit 
 Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste 
 Brought death into the world, and all <,mi >w,, 
 With loss of Eden, till one greater Man 
 Restore us, and regain the blissful s.eat, . I 
 Sing, heavenly Muse ! that on the secret top 
 Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire 
 That shepherd, who first taught the chosen seed, 
 In the beginning, how the Heavens and Earth 
 Rose out of Chaos : or, if Sion hill 
 Delight thee more, and Siloa's brook, that flowed 
 Fast by the oracle of God, I thence 
 Invoke thy aid to my adventurous song, 
 That with no middle flight, intends to soar 
 Above the Aonian mount, while it pursues 
 Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme. 
 And chiefly Thou, Spirit! that dost prefer, 
 Before all temples, the upright heart and pure, 
 Instruct me, for Thou know'st; Thou from the first 
 Wast present, and, with mighty wings outspread, 
 Dove-like, sat'st brooding on the vast abjss, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 And mad'st it pregnant : what in me is dark, 
 Illumine : what is low, raise and support ; 
 That, to the height of this great argument 
 I may assert Eternal Providence, 
 And justify the ways of God to men. [view, 
 
 Say first, for Heaven hides nothing from thy 
 Nor the deep tract of Hell; say first, what cause 
 Moved our grand parents, in that happy state, 
 Favour'd of Heaven so highly, to fall off 
 From their Creator, and transgress his will. 
 For one restraint, lords of the world besides? 
 Who first seduced them to that foul revolt? 
 TheiiBcfernsal Serpent ! he it was, whose guile, 
 "'Stfrr'd' up w\th envy and revenge, deceived 
 .' *E3ie motli-er of. mankind, what time his pride 
 Ha*d' cast him out from Heaven, with all his host 
 Of rebel angels; by whose aid, aspiring 
 To set himself in glory above his peers, 
 He trusted to have equall'd the Most High, 
 If he opposed; and, with ambitious aim, 
 Against the throne and monarchy of God, 
 Eaised impious war in Heaven, and battle proud, 
 With vain attempt. Him the Almighty Power 
 HurFd headlong, flaming, from the ethereal sky, 
 With hideous ruin and combustion, down 
 To bottomless perdition : there to dwell 
 In adamantine chains and penal fire, 
 Who durst defy the Omnipotent to arms, 
 Nine times the space, that measures day and night 
 To mortal men, he with his horrid crew 
 Lay vanquished, rolling in the fiery gulf, 
 
PARADISE LOST 
 
 Confounded, though immortal : but his doom 
 Reserved him to more wrath; for now the thought 
 Both of lost happiness, and lasting pain, 
 Torments him: round he throws his baleful eyes, 
 That witness'd huge affliction and dismay 
 Mix'd with obdurate pride and steadfast hate. 
 At once, as far as angels ken, he views 
 / The dismal situation, waste and wild. 
 | A dungeon horrible, on all sides round, [flames 
 As one great furnace, flamed; yet from those 
 No light, but rather darkness visible, 
 / Served only to discover sights of woe, 
 i^Eegions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace 
 r And rest can never dwell, hope never comes, 
 } That comes to all; but torture without end 
 I Still urges, and a fiery deluge, fed 
 
 vVith ever-burning sulphur, unconsumed. 
 Such place Eternal Justice had prepared 
 For those rebellious : here their prison ordain'd 
 In utter darkness; and their portion set, 
 As far removed from God and light of Heaven, 
 As from the centre thrice to the utmost pole. 
 Oh! how unlike the place from whence they fell! 
 There the companions of his fall, o'erwhelm'd 
 With floods and whirlwinds of tempestuous fire, 
 He soon discerns; and, weltering by his side, 
 One next himself in power, and next in crime, 
 j Long after known in Palestine, and named 
 i ' Beelzebub. To whom the Arch-Enemy, [words, 
 And thence in Heaven call'd Satan, with bold 
 Breaking the horrid silence, thus began. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 " If thou beest he; but oh! how fallen! how changed 
 
 From him, who, in the happy realms of light, 
 
 Clothed with transcendent brightness, didstoutshine 
 
 Myriads, though bright ! if he, who mutual league, 
 
 United thoughts and counsels, equal hope 
 
 And hazard in the glorious enterprise, 
 
 Join'd with me once, now misery hath join'd 
 
 In equal ruin: into what pit, thou seest, [proved 
 
 From what height fallen; so much the stronger 
 
 He, with his thunder: and till then who knew 
 
 The force of those dire arms ? Yet not for those, 
 
 Nor what the potent Victor, in his rage 
 
 Can else inflict, do I repent, or change, 
 
 Though changed in outward lustre, that fix'd mind, 
 
 And high disdain from sense of injured merit, 
 
 That, with the Mightiest, raised me to contend, 
 
 And, to the fierce contention, brought along 
 
 Innumerable force of spirits arm'd, 
 
 That durst dislike his reign; and me preferring, 
 
 His utmost power with adverse power opposed 
 
 In dubious battle, on the plains of Heaven, 
 
 And shook his throne. What tho' the field be lost? 
 
 All is not lost: the unconquerable will, 
 
 And study of revenge, immortal hate, 
 
 And courage never to submit or yield, 
 
 And what is else, not to be overcome; 
 
 That glory never shall his wrath or might 
 
 Extort from me. To bow and sue for grace, 
 
 With suppliant knee, and deify his power, 
 
 Who, from the terror of this arm, so late 
 
 Doubted his empire; that were low indeed; 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 That were an ignominy and shame beneath 
 This downfall: since by fate, the strength of gods 
 And this empyreal substance cannot fail, 
 Since, through experience of this great event, 
 In arms not worse, in foresight much advanced, 
 We may, with more successful hope, resolve 
 To wage, by force or guile, eternal war, 
 Irreconcilable to our grand Foe, 
 Who now triumphs, and, in the excess of joy 
 Sole reigning, holds the tyranny of Heaven." 
 
 So spake the apostate Angel, though in pain. 
 Vaunting aloud, but rack'd with deep despair: 
 And him thus answer'd soon his bold compeer. 
 
 " Prince ! Chief of many throned Powers ! 
 That led the embattled Seraphim to war 
 Under thy conduct, and, in dreadful deeds 
 Fearless, endanger'd Heaven's perpetual King, 
 And put to proof his high supremacy, 
 Whether upheld by strength, or chance, or fate; 
 Too well I see and rue the dire event, 
 That, with sad overthrow and foul defeat, 
 Hath lost us Heaven, and all this mighty host, 
 In horrible destruction, laid thus low, 
 As far as gods and heavenly essences 
 Can perish: for the mind and spirit remains 
 Invincible, and vigour soon returns, 
 Though all our glory' extinct, and happy state 
 Here swallow'd up in endless misery. 
 But what if he, our Conqueror, whom I now 
 Of force believe almighty, since no less [ours, 
 Than such could have o'erpower'd such force as 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Have left us this our spirit and strength entire, 
 
 Strongly to suffer and support our pains, 
 
 That we may so suffice his vengeful ire, 
 
 Or do him mightier service, as his thralls 
 
 By right of war, whate'er his business be; 
 
 Here, in the heart of Hell, to work in fire, 
 
 Or do his errands in the gloomy deep? 
 
 What can it then avail, though yet we feel 
 
 Strength undiminish'd, or eternal being 
 
 To undergo eternal punishment?" 
 
 Whereto with speedy words the Arch-Fiend replied. 
 
 " Fallen Cherub ! to be weak is miserable, 
 
 Doing or suffering: but of this be sure, 
 
 To do aught good never will be our task; 
 
 But ever to do ill our sole delight, 
 
 As being the contrary to his high will, 
 
 Whom we resist. If then his providence 
 
 Out of our evil seek to bring forth good, 
 
 Our labour must be to pervert that end, 
 
 And out of good still to find means of evil : 
 
 Which oft-times may succeed, so as perhaps 
 
 Shall grieve him, if I fail not, and disturb 
 
 His inmost counsels from their destined aim. 
 
 But see ! the angry Victor hath recall'd 
 
 His ministers of vengeance and pursuit 
 
 Back to the gates of Heaven; the sulphurous hail, 
 
 Shot after us in storm, o'erblown, hath laid 
 
 The fiery surge, that, from the precipice 
 
 Of Heaven, received us falling; and the thunder, 
 
 Wing'd with red lightning and impetuous rage, 
 
 Perhaps hath spent his shafts; and ceases now 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 To bellow through the vast and boundless deep. 
 
 Let us not slip the occasion, whether scorn, 
 
 Or satiate fury, yield it from our Foe. 
 
 Seest thou yon dreary plain, forlorn and wild, 
 
 The seat of desolation, void of light, 
 
 Save what the glimmering of these livid flames 
 
 Casts pale and dreadful? Thither let us tend, 
 
 From off the tossing of these fiery waves : 
 
 There rest, if any rest can harbour there; 
 
 And, re-assembling our afflicted Powers, 
 
 Consult, how we may henceforth most offend 
 
 Our enemy; our own loss how repair; 
 
 How overcome this dire calamity; 
 
 What reinforcement we may gain from hope; 
 
 If not, what resolution from despair." 
 
 Thus Satan, talking to his nearest mate, 
 With head uplift above the wave, and eyes 
 That sparkling blazed : his other parts besides, 
 Prone on the flood, extended long and large, 
 Lay floating many a rood : in bulk as huge 
 As whom the fables name of monstrous size, 
 Titanian or Earth-born, that warr'd on Jove; 
 Briareos or Typhon, whom the den 
 By ancient Tarsus held; or that sea-beast 
 Leviathan, which God of all his works 
 Created hugest, that swim the ocean stream: 
 Him, haply, slumbering on the Norway foam, 
 The pilot of some small night-founder'd skiff, 
 Deeming some island, oft, as seamen tell, 
 With fixed anchor in his scaly rind, 
 Moors by his side, under the lee, while night 
 
10 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 ^Invests the sea, and wished morn delays. 
 
 ISo stretch'd out, huge in length, the Arch-Fiend lay, 
 Chain'd on the burning lake : nor ever thence 
 Had risen, or heaved his head; but that the will 
 And high permission of all-ruling Heaven 
 Left him at large to his own dark designs: 
 That, with reiterated crimes, he might 
 Heap on himself damnation, while he sought 
 Evil to others; and enraged might see 
 How all his malice served but to bring forth 
 Infinite goodness, grace and mercy, shown 
 On man, by him seduced; but on himself 
 Treble confusion, wrath and vengeance pour'd. 
 Forthwith upright he rears, from off the pool, 
 His mighty stature : on each hand the flames, 
 Driven backward, slope their pointing spires, and, 
 In billows, leave in the midst a horrid vale. [rolFd 
 Then with expanded wings, he steers his flight 
 Aloft, incumbent on the dusky air, 
 That felt unusual weight, till on dry land 
 He lights; if it were land that ever burn'd 
 With solid, as the lake with liquid, fire; 
 And such appear'd in hue, as when the force 
 Of subterranean wind transports a hill, 
 Torn from Pelorus, or the shatter'd side 
 Of thundering .ZEtna, whose combustible 
 And fuell'd entrails, thence conceiving fire, 
 Sublimed with mineral fury, aid the winds; 
 And leave a singed bottom, all involved [sole 
 With stench and smoke. Such resting found the 
 Of unblest feet. Him follow'd his next mate: 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Both glorying to have 'scaped the Stygian flood, 
 As gods, and by their own recover'd strength, 
 Not by the sufferance of supernal Power. 
 
 " Is this the region 1 this the soil ? the clime, 
 (Said then the lost Archangel) this the seat 
 That we must change for Heaven 1 this mournful 
 For that celestial light 1 Be it so, since he, [gloom 
 Who now is Sovereign, can dispose and bid 
 What shall be right: farthest from him is best, 
 Wlom reason hath equall'd, force hath made supreme 
 
 Above his equals. Farewell, happy fields, 
 
 * * -i ' , r r /. 
 
 Where joy for ever dwells ! Hail, horrors ! hail, 
 Infernal world ! and thou, profoundest Hell! 
 Receive thy new possessor : one, who brings 
 A mind not to be changed by place or time: 
 The mind is its own place, and in itself 
 Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven. 
 What matter where, if I be still the same, 
 And what I should be; all but less than He, 
 Whom thunder hath made greater ! Here, at least 
 We shall be free; the Almighty hath not built 
 Here for his envy; will not drive us hence: 
 Here, we may reign secure; and, in my choice, 
 To reign is worth ambition, though in Hell: 
 Better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heaven. 
 But wherefore let we then our faithful friends, 
 The associates and co-partners of our loss, 
 Lie thus astonish'd on the oblivious pool, 
 And call them not to share with us their part 
 In this unhappy mansion; or, once more, 
 With rallied arms, to try what may be yet 
 
12 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Regain' d in Heaven, or what more lost in Hell 1" 
 
 So Satan spake, and him Beelzebub 
 Thus answer'd. " Leader of those armies bright 
 Which, but the Omnipotent, none could have foil'd ! 
 If once they hear that voice, their liveliest pledge 
 Of hope in fears and dangers, heard so oft 
 In worst extremes, and on the perilous edge 
 Of battle, when it raged, in all assaults 
 Their surest signal, they will soon resume 
 New courage and revive; though now they lie 
 Grovelling and prostrate, on yon lake of fire, 
 As we erewhile, astounded and amazed; 
 No wonder, fallen such a pernicious height." 
 
 He scarce had ceased when the superior Fiend 
 Was moving toward the shore: his ponderou^K^ 
 Ethereal temper, massy, large, and round, {shield^ 
 Behind him cast : the broad circumference 
 Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose orb 
 Through optic-glass, the Tuscan artist views 
 At evening from the top of Fesol6, 
 Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands, 
 Rivers or mountains, in her spotty globe. 
 His spear (to equal which the tallest pino 
 Hewn on Norwegian hills, to be the mast 
 Of some great admiral, were but a wand,) 
 He walked with, to support uneasy steps, 
 Over the burning marie: not like those steps 
 On Heaven's azure; and the torrid clime 
 Smote on him sore besides, vaulted with fire: 
 Nathless he so endured, till on the beach 
 Of that inflamed sea he stood; and call'd 
 
PARADISE LOST. 13 
 
 His legions, angel-forms, who lay entranced, 
 Thick as aut-urnnal leaves that strew the brooks 
 In Vallombrosa, where the Etrurian shades, 
 High over-arch'd, imbower; or scatter'd sedge 
 Afloat, when with fierce winds Orion arm'd 
 Hath vex'd the Red Sea coast, whose waves o'er- 
 Busiris, and his Memphian chivalry, [threw 
 
 While with perfidious hatred they pursued 
 The sojourners of Gosh en, who beheld, 
 From the safe shore, their floating carcasses, 
 And broken chariot-wheels: so thick bestrown, 
 Abject and lost lay these, covering the flood, 
 Under amazement of their hideous change. 
 He call'd so loud, that all the hollow deep, 
 Of Hell resounded: " Princes, Potentates, 
 Warriors, the flower of Heaven, once yours, now 
 If such astonishment as this can seize [lost, 
 
 Eternal Spirits; or have ye chosen this place, 
 After the toil of battle, to repose 
 Your wearied virtue, for the ea?.e you find 
 To slumber here, as in the vales of Heaven? 
 Or, in this abject posture, have ye sworn 
 To adore the Conqueror? who now beholds 
 Cherub and Seraph, rolling in the flood, 
 With scatter'd arms and ensigns; till anon 
 His swift pursuers from Heaven-gates discern 
 The advantage, and. descending, tread us down 
 Thus drooping; or, with linked thunderbolts. 
 Transfix us to the bottom of this gulf. 
 Awake ! arise ! or be for ever fallen !" [sprung 
 They heard, and were abash'd, and up they 
 
14 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Upon the wing; as when men wont to watch 
 On duty, sleeping found by whom they dread, 
 Rouse and bestir themselves, ere well awake. 
 Nor did they not perceive the evil plight 
 In which they were, or the fierce pains not feel; 
 Yet to their General's voice they soon obey'd; 
 Innumerable. As when the potent rod 
 Of Amram's son, in Egypt's evil day, 
 Waved round the coast, up call'd a pitchy cloud 
 Of locusts, warping on the eastern wind, 
 That o'er the realm of impious Pharaoh hung, 
 Like night, and darken'd all the land of Nile: 
 So numberless were those bad angels seen 
 Hovering on wing under the cope of Hell, 
 'Twixt upper, nether, and surrounding fires; 
 Till, as a signal given, the uplifted spear 
 Of their great Sultan, waving to direct 
 Their course, in even balance down they light 
 On the firm brimstone, and fill all the plain: 
 A multitude, like which the populous North 
 Pour'd never from her frozen loins, to pass 
 Ehene or the Danaw; when her barbarous sons 
 Came, like a deluge, on the South, and spread 
 Beneath Gibraltar to the Lybian sands. 
 Forthwith, from every squadron, and each band, 
 The heads and leaders thither haste, where stood 
 Their great Commander; god-like shapes and forms 
 Excelling human; princely Dignities; 
 And Powers that erst in Heaven sat on thrones; 
 Though of their names in heavenly records now 
 Be no memorial; blotted out. and rased, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 15 
 
 By their rebellion, from the book of life. 
 Nor had they yet, among the sons of Eve, [earth, 
 Got them new names : till, wandering o'er the 
 Through God's high sufferance, for the trial of man, 
 By falsities and lies, the greatest part 
 Of mankind they corrupted, to forsake 
 God their Creator, and the invisible 
 Glory of Him that made them; to transform 
 Oft to the image of a brute, adorn'd 
 With gay religions, full of pomp and gold. 
 And devils to adore for Deities: 
 Then were they known to men, by various names, 
 And various idols, through the Heathen world. 
 Say, Muse, their names then known, who first, who 
 Roused from the slumber, on that fiery couch, [last, 
 At their great Emperor's call, as next in worth, 
 Came singly, where he stood on the bare strand, 
 While the promiscuous crowd stood yet aloof. 
 The chief were those, who, from the pit of Hell, 
 Roaming to seek their prey on earth, durst fix 
 Their seats, long after next the seat of God, 
 Their altars by his altar; (gods adored 
 Among the nations round;) and durst abide 
 Jehovah thundering out of Sion, throned 
 Between the Cherubim : yea, often placed 
 Within his sanctuary itself, their shrines, 
 Abominations; and, with cursed things, 
 His holy rites and solemn feasts profaned; 
 And with their darkness durst affront his light. ^ 
 First Moloch, horrid king, besmear'd with blood 
 Of human sacrifice, and parents' tears; 
 
16 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 
 
 Though, for the noise of drums and timbrels loud, 
 Their children's cries unheard, that pass'd through 
 To his grim idol. Him the Ammonite [fire 
 
 Worshipp'd in Eabba and her watery plain, 
 In Argob and in Basan, to the stream 
 Of utmost Arnon. Nor content with such 
 Audacious neighbourhood, the wisest heart 
 Of Solomon he led, by fraud, to build 
 His temple, right against the temple of God 
 On that opprobrious hill; and made his grove 
 The pleasant valley of Hinnom; Tophet thence 
 And black Gehenna call'd, the type of Hell. 
 Next Chemos, the obscene, dread of Moab's sons, 
 From Aroer to Nebo, and the wild 
 Of southmost Abarim; in Hesebon 
 And Horonaim, Seon's realm, beyond 
 The flowery dale of Sibma, clad with vines, 
 And Eleale to the Asphaltic pool: 
 Peor his other name, when he enticed 
 Israel, in Sittim, on their march from Nile, 
 To do him wanton rites, which cost them woe. 
 Yet thence his lustful orgies he enlarged, 
 Even to that hill of scandal, by the grove 
 Of Moloch, homicide; lust hard by hate: 
 Till good Josiah drove them thence to Hell. 
 With these came they, who, from the bordering 
 Of old Euphrates, to the brook that parts [flood 
 Egypt from Syrian ground, had general names 
 Of Baalim and Ashtaroth; those male, 
 These feminine: for Spirits, when they please. 
 Can either sex assume, or both; so soft 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 17 
 
 And uncompounded is their essence pure : 
 
 Not tied or manacled with joint or limb, 
 
 Nor founded on the brittle strength of bones, 
 
 Like cumbrous flesh; but, in what shape they 
 
 Dilated or condensed, bright or obscure, [choose, 
 
 Can execute their airy purposes, 
 
 And works of love or enmity fulfil. 
 
 For those the race of Israel oft forsook 
 
 Their living Strength, and unfrequented left 
 
 His righteous altar, bowing lowly down 
 
 To bestial gods : for which their heads, as low 
 
 Bow'd down in battle, sunk before the spear 
 
 Of despicable foes. With these in troop 
 
 Came Astoreth, whom the Phoenicians call'd 
 
 Astarte*, queen of Heaven, with crescent horns : 
 
 To whose bright image nightly by the moon, 
 
 Sidonian virgins paid their vows and songs: 
 
 In Sion also not unsung, where stood 
 
 Her temple, on the offensive mountain, built 
 
 By that uxorious king, whose heart, though large, 
 
 Beguiled by fair idolatresses, fell 
 
 To idols foul. Thammuz came next behind, 
 
 Whose annual wound, in Lebanon, allured 
 
 The Syrian damsels to lament his fate, 
 
 In amorous ditties, all a summer's day; 
 
 While smooth Adonis from his native rock, 
 
 Kan purple to the sea, supposed with blood 
 
 Of Thammuz yearly wounded: the love- tale 
 
 Infected Sion's daughters with like heat; 
 
 Whose wanton passions, in the sacred porch* 
 
 Ezekiel saw when, by the vision led, 
 
 , 
 
 
 ' 
 
18 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 His eye surveyed the dark idolatries 
 
 Of alienated Judah. Next came one 
 
 Who mourn'd in earnest, when the captive ark 
 
 Maim'd his brute image, head and hands lopt off, 
 
 In his own temple, on the groundsil-edge, 
 
 r Where he fell flat, and shamed his worshippers: 
 Dagon his name, sea-monster, upward man 
 And downward fish: yet had his temple, high 
 ^ Rear'd in Azotus, dreaded through the coast 
 Of Palestine, in Gath and Ascalon, 
 And Accaron and Gaza's frontier bounds. 
 Him follow'd Jgininionj whose delightful seat 
 Was fair Damascus, on the fertile banks 
 Of Abana and Pharpar, lucid streams. 
 He also against the house of God was bold: 
 A leper once he lost, and gain'd a king, 
 Ahaz, his sottish conqueror, whom he drew 
 God's altar to disparage, and displace 
 For one of Syrian mode, whereon to burn 
 His odious offerings, and adore the gods 
 Whom he had vanquish'd. After these appear'd 
 A crew, who, under names of old renown, 
 Osiris, Isis, Orus, and their train, 
 With monstrous shapes and sorceries, abused 
 Fanatic Egypt and her priests, to seek 
 Their wandering gods, disguised in brutish forms, 
 Kather than human. Nor did Israel 'scape 
 The infection, when their borrow'd gold composed 
 The calf in Oreb; and the rebel king 
 Doubled that sin in Bethel and in Dan, 
 Likening his Maker to the grazed ox; 
 
PARADISE LOST. 19 
 
 Jehovah, who, in one night, when he pass'd 
 From Egypt marching, equalled, with one stroke, 
 Both her first-born, and all her bleating gods. 
 Belial came last, than whom a Spirit more lewd 
 Fell not from Heaven, or more gross, 
 
 fj to him no temple stood, 
 
 Or altar smoked; yet who more oft than he, 
 In temples and at altars, when the priest 
 Turns atheist, as did Eli's sons, who fill'd 
 With lust and violence the house of God? 
 In courts and palaces he also reigns, 
 And in luxurious cities, where the noise 
 Of riot ascends, above their loftiest towers, 
 And injury and outrage: and when night 
 Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons 
 Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine. 
 Witness the streets of Sodom, and that night 
 In Gibeah, when the hospitable door 
 Exposed a matron to avoid worse rape; 
 These were the prime in order and in might : 
 The rest were long to tell, though far renown'd: 
 The Ionian Gods, of Ja van's issue, held 
 Gods, yet confess'd later than Heaven and Earth, 
 Their boasted parents : Titan, Heaven's first-born, 
 With his enormous brood, and birth-right seized 
 By younger Saturn; he, from mightier Jove, 
 His own and Rhea's son, like measure found: 
 So Jove usurping reign'd. These, first in Crete 
 And Ida known, thence, on the snowy top 
 Of cold Olympus, ruled the middle air, 
 Their highest Heaven; or, on the Delphian cliff, 
 
20 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Or in Dodona, and through all the bounds 
 
 Of Doric land; or, who with Saturn old, 
 
 Fled over Adria to the Hesperian fields, 
 
 And o'er the Celtic roam'd the utmost isles, [looks 
 
 All these, and more, came flocking; hut with 
 Down-cast and damp; yet such wherein appear'd 
 Obscure some glimpse of joy, to have found their 
 
 chief 
 
 Not in despair, to have found themselves not lost 
 In loss itself; which on his countenance cast 
 Like doubtful hue: but he, his wonted pride 
 Soon recollecting, with high words, that bore 
 Semblance of worth, not substance, gently raised 
 Their fainting courage, and dispell'd their fears. 
 Then straight commands, that, at the warlike sound 
 Of trumpets loud, and clarions, be uprear'd 
 His mighty standard. That proud honour claim'd 
 ~Azazel as his right, a Cherub tall, 
 Who forthwith, from the glittering staff, unfurl'd 
 The imperial ensign; which, full high advanced, 
 Shone, like a meteor, streaming to the wind, 
 With gems and golden lustre rich imblazed, 
 Seraphic arms and trophies; all the while 
 Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds: 
 At which the universal host up-sent 
 A shout that tore Hell's concave; and beyond, 
 Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night. 
 All in a moment, through the gloom, were seen 
 Ten thousand banners rise into the air, 
 With orient colours waving: with them rose 
 A forest huge of spears; and thronging helms 
 
PARADISE LOST. 21 
 
 Appear'd, and serried shields, in thick array, 
 Of depth immeasurable. Anon they move 
 In perfect phalanx, to the Dorian mood 
 Of flutes and soft recorders; such as raised 
 To height of noblest temper heroes old, 
 Arming to battle; and, instead of rage, 
 Deliberate valour breathed, firm, and unmoved 
 With dread of death, to flight or foul retreat; 
 Nor wanting power to mitigate and swage, 
 With solemn touches, troubled thoughts, and chase 
 Anguish, and doubt, and fear, and sorrow, and pain 
 From mortal or immortal minds. Thus they, 
 Breathing united force, with fixed thought, 
 Moved on in silence to soft pipes, that charm'd 
 Their painful steps o'er the burnt soil: and now 
 Advanced in view they stand, a horrid front 
 Of dreadful length, and dazzling arms, in guise 
 Of warriors old, with order'd spear and shield; 
 Awaiting what command their mighty Chief 
 Had to impose. He, through the armed files 
 Darts his experienced eye; and soon traverse 
 The whole battalion views; their order due; 
 Their visages and stature, as of Gods : 
 Their number last he sums. And now his heart 
 Distends with pride, and, hardening in his strength, 
 Glories : for never, since created man 
 Met such embodied force, as, named with these 
 Could merit more than that small infantry 
 Warr'd on by cranes; though all the giant-brood 
 Of Phlegra, with the heroic race, were join'd, 
 That fought at Thebes and Ilium, on each side 
 
22 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Mix'd with auxiliar Gods; and what resounds 
 In fable or romance, of Uther's son, 
 Begirt with British, and Armoric knights; 
 And all, who since, baptized or infidel, 
 Jousted in Aspramont, or Montalban, 
 Damasco, or Morocco, or Trebisond; 
 Or, whom Biserta sent from Afric shore, 
 When Charlemain, with all his peerage, fell, 
 By Fontarabia. Thus far these beyond 
 Compare of mortal prowess, yet observed 
 Their dread Commander. He, above the rest 
 In shape and gesture proudly eminent, 
 Stood like a tower: his form had yet not lost 
 All her original brightness; nor appear'd 
 Less than Archangel ruin'd, and the excess 
 Of glory obscured : as when the sun, new risen, 
 Looks through the horizontal misty air, 
 Shorn of his beams, or, from behind the moon, 
 In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds 
 On half the nations, and with fear of change 
 Perplexes monarchs. Darken'd so, yet shone 
 Above them all the Archangel : but his face 
 Deep scars of thunder had intreiich'd; and care 
 Sat on his faded cheek, but under brows 
 Of dauntless courage, and considerate pride; 
 Waiting revenge. Cruel his eye, but cast 
 Signs of remorse and passion, to behold 
 The fellows of his crime, the followers rather, 
 Far other once beheld in bliss, condemned 
 For ever now to have their lot in pain : 
 Millions of Spirits, for his fault, amerced 
 
PARADISE LOST. 23 
 
 Of Heaven, and from eternal splendours flung, 
 For his revolt : yet faithful how they stood, 
 Their glory wither'd : as when Heaven's fire 
 Hath scath'd the forest oaks, or mountain pines, 
 With singed top, their stately growth, though bare, 
 Stands on the blasted heath. He now prepared 
 To speak; whereat, their doubled ranks they bend, 
 From wing to wing, and half enclose him round, 
 With all his peers : attention held them mute. 
 Thrice he essay'd, and thrice, in spite of scorn, 
 Tears, such as angels weep, burst forth. At last 
 Words, interwove with sighs, found out their way. 
 
 " Myriads of immortal Spirits ! Powers ! 
 Matchless, but with the Almighty; and that strife 
 Was not inglorious, though the event was dire, 
 As this place testifies, and this dire change, 
 Hateful to utter : but what power of mind, 
 Foreseeing or presaging, from the depth 
 Of knowledge, past or present, could have fear'd, 
 How such united force of Gods, how such 
 As stood like these, could ever know repulse? 
 For who can yet believe, though after loss, 
 That all these puissant legions, whose exile 
 Hath emptied Heaven, shall fail to re-ascend, 
 Self-raised, and re-possess their native seat? 
 For me, be witness all the host of Heaven, 
 If counsels different, or danger shunn'd 
 By me, have lost our hopes. But he, who reigns 
 Monarch in Heaven, till then, as one secure, 
 Sat on his throne, upheld by old repute, 
 Consent or custom, and his regal state, 
 
24 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Put forth at full, but still his strength conceal'd; 
 Which tempted our attempt, and wrought our fall. 
 Henceforth his might we know, and know our own; 
 So as not either to provoke, or dread 
 New war, provoked : our better part remains, 
 To work in close design, by fraud or guile, 
 What force effected not; that he no less 
 At length from us may find, who overcomes 
 By force, hath overcome but half his foe. 
 Space may produce new worlds; whereof so rife 
 There went a fame in Heaven that he ere long 
 Intended to create, and therein plant 
 A generation, whom his choice regard 
 Should favour equal to the sons of Heaven. 
 Thither, if but to pry, shall be perhaps 
 Our first eruption; thither or elsewhere: 
 For this infernal pit shall never hold 
 Celestial spirits in bondage, nor the abyss 
 Long under darkness cover. But these thoughts 
 Full counsel must mature : peace is despair'd; 
 For who can think submission? War then, war, 
 Open or understood, must be resolved." 
 
 He spake: and, to confirm his words, out-flew 
 Millions of flaming swords, drawn from the thighs 
 Of mighty Cherubim. The sudden blaze 
 Far round illumined Hell: highly they raged 
 Against the Highest; and fierce, with grasped arms, 
 Clash'd on their sounding shields the din of war, 
 Hurling defiance toward the vault of Heaven. 
 
 There stood a hill not far, whose grisly top 
 Belch'd fire arid rolling smoke; the rest entire 
 
PARADISE LOST. 25 
 
 Shone with a glossy scurf; undoubted sign, 
 That in his womb was hid metallic ore, 
 The work of sulphur. Thither, wingM with speed, 
 A numerous brigade hasten'd: as when bands 
 Of pioneers, with spade and pick-axe arm'd, 
 Forerun the royal camp, to trench a field, 
 Or cast a rampart, gammon led them on;~ 
 Mammon, the least erected Spirit, that fell 
 From Heaven; for, e'en in Heaven, his looks and 
 
 thoughts 
 
 Were always downward bent, admiring more 
 The riches of Heaven's pavement, trodden gold, 
 Than aught, divine or holy, else enjoy 'd 
 In vision beatific. By him first 
 Men also, and by his suggestion taught, 
 Eansack'd the centre, and, with impious hands, 
 Eifled the bowels of their mother Earth 
 For treasures, better hid. Soon had his crew 
 Open'd into the hill a spacious wound, 
 And digged out ribs of gold. Let none admire, 
 That riches grow in Hell; that soil may best 
 Deserve the precious bane. And here let those, 
 Who boast in mortal things, and wondering, tell, 
 Of Babel, and the works of Memphian kings, 
 Learn, how their greatest monuments of fame, 
 And strength, and art, are easily out-done 
 By Spirits reprobate; and in an hour, 
 What in an age, they, with incessant toil, 
 And hands innumerable, scarce perform. 
 Nigh on the plain, in many cells prepared. 
 That underneath had veins of liquid fire, 
 
26 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Sluiced from the lake, a second multitude, 
 
 With wondrous art, founded the massy ore, 
 
 Severing each kind, and scummed the bullion dross: 
 
 A third as soon had form'd, within the ground 
 
 A various mold, and from the boiling cells, 
 
 By strange conveyance, fill'd each hollow nook; 
 
 As in an organ, from one blast of wind, 
 
 To many a row of pipes, the sound-board breathes. 
 
 Anon, out of the earth, a fabric huge 
 
 Rose, like an exhalation, with the sound 
 
 Of dulcet symphonies, and voices sweet; 
 
 Built like a temple, where pilasters round 
 
 Were set, and Doric pillars overlaid 
 
 With golden architrave: nor did there want 
 
 Cornice or frieze, with bossy Sculptures graven; 
 
 The roof was fretted gold. Not Babylon, 
 
 Nor great Alcairo, such magnificence 
 
 Equall'd, in all their glories, to enshrine 
 
 Belus or Serapis their gods; or seat 
 
 Their kings, when Egypt with Assyria strove 
 
 In wealth and luxury. The ascending pile [doors, 
 
 Stood fix'd her stately height: and straight the 
 
 Opening their brazen folds, discover wide 
 
 Within, her ample spaces, o'er the smooth 
 
 And level pavement. From the arched roof, 
 
 Pendant by subtle magic, many a row 
 
 Of starry lamps, and blazing cressets, fed 
 
 With naphtha and asphaltus, yielded light, 
 
 As from a sky. The hasty multitude 
 
 Admiring enter'd; and the work some praise, 
 
 And some the architect: his hand was known 
 
PARADISE LOS!. 27 
 
 In Heaven, by many a tower'd structure high, 
 
 Where scepter'd angels held their residence, 
 
 And sat as princes; whom the Supreme King 
 
 Exalted to such power, and gave to rule, 
 
 Each in his hierarchy, the orders bright. 
 
 Nor was his name unheard, or unadored 
 
 In ancient Greece; and, in Ausonian land, 
 
 Men call'd him Mulciberj_and how he fell &'" 
 
 From Heaven, they fabled, thrown by angry Jove, 
 
 Sheer o'er the crystal battlements: from morn 
 
 To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve, 
 
 A summer's day; and with the setting sun 
 
 Dropt from the zenith, like a falling star, 
 
 On Lemnos, the ^Bgean isle. Thus they relate, 
 
 Erring; for he, with this rebellious rout, 
 
 Fell long before; nor aught avail'd him now 
 
 To have built in Heaven high towers; nor did he 
 
 By all his engines: but was headlong sent, ['scape 
 
 With his industrious crew, to build in Hell. 
 
 Meanwhile the winged heralds, by command 
 Of sovereign power, with awful ceremony, 
 And trumpets' sound, throughout the host, proclaim 
 A solemn council, forthwith to be held 
 At Pandemonium, the high capital 
 Of Satan and his peers. Their summons call'd, 
 From every band and squared regiment, 
 By place or choice the worthiest. They anon, 
 With hundreds and with thousands trooping, came 
 Attended: all access was throng'd. The gates 
 And porches wide, but chief the spacious hall, 
 Though like a covered field, where champions bold 
 
28 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Wont ride in arin'd, and at the Soldan's chair; 
 
 Defied the best of Panim chivalry 
 
 To mortal combat, or career with lance. 
 
 Thick swarm'd, both on the ground and in the air, 
 
 Brush'd with the hiss of rustling wings. As bees 
 
 In spring-time, when the sun with Taurus rides, 
 
 Pour forth their populous youth about the hive 
 
 In clusters: they among fresh dews and flowers 
 
 Fly to and fro, or, on the smoothed plank, 
 
 The suburb of their straw-built citadel, 
 
 New rubbed with balm, expatiate, and confer 
 
 Their state affairs. So thick the airy crowd 
 
 Swarm'd, and were straiten'd; till, the signal given, 
 
 Behold a wonder ! They but now who seem'd 
 
 In bigness to surpass Earth's giant sons, 
 
 Now less than smallest dwarfs, in narrow room 
 
 Throng numberless; like that pygmean race 
 
 Beyond the Indian mount: or faery elves, 
 
 Whose midnight revels, by a forest-side, 
 
 Or fountain, some belated peasant sees, 
 
 Or dreams he sees, while overhead the moon 
 
 Sits arbitress; and, nearer to the earth, 
 
 Wheels her pale course: they, on their mirth and 
 
 Intent, with jocund music charm his ear: [dance 
 
 At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds. 
 
 Thus incorporeal Spirits to smallest forms 
 
 Eeduced their shapes immense; and were at large, 
 
 Though without number, still amidst the hall 
 
 Of that infernal court. But far within, 
 
 And, in their own dimensions, like themselves, 
 
 The great Seraphic Lords and Cherubim 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 In close recess, and secret conclave, sat; 
 A thousand Demi-gods, on golden seats, 
 Frequent and full. After short silence then, 
 And summons read, the great consult began. 
 
 END OF BOOK I. 
 
PARADISE LOST 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
THE ARGUMENT 
 
 The consultation begun, Satan debates whether another battle 
 be to be hazarded for the recovery of Heaven: some advise it, 
 others dissuade, A third proposal is preferred, mentioned 
 before by Satan, to search the truth of that prophecy or tra- 
 dition in Heaven concerning another world and another 
 kind of creature, equal, or not much inferior, to themselves, 
 about this time to be created: their doubt who shall be sent on 
 this difficult search: Satan their chief undertakes alone 
 the voyage, is honoured and applauded. The council thus 
 ended, the rest betake them several ways and to several em- 
 ployments, as their inclinations lead them, to entertain the 
 lime till Satan return. He passes on his journey to Hell 
 gates; finds them shut, and who sat there to guard them; by 
 whom at length they are opened, and discover to him the great 
 gulf between Hell and Heaven; with what difficulty he 2^asses 
 through, directed by Chaos, the Power of that place, to the 
 sight of this new world which he sought. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 HIGH on a throne of royal state, which far 
 Outshone the wealth of Ormus and of Ind, 
 Or, where the gorgeous East, with richest hand, 
 Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold, 
 Satan exalted sat; by merit raised 
 To that bad eminence; and, from despair, 
 Thus high uplifted beyond hope, aspires 
 Beyond thus high, insatiate to pursue 
 Vain war with Heaven, and by success untaught, 
 His proud imaginations thus display'd : 
 
 " Powers and Dominions ! Deities of Heaven ! 
 For since no deep within her gulf can hold 
 Immortal vigour, though oppress'd and fall'n, 
 I give not Heaven for lost. From this descent 
 Celestial virtues rising, will appear 
 More glorious, and more dread, than from no fall, 
 And trust themselves, to fear no second fate. 
 Me, though just right, and thefix'd laws of Heaven 
 Did first create your leader, next free choice, 
 With what besides, in council or in fight, 
 Hath been achieved of merit; yet this loss, 
 
 c 
 
34 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Thus far at least recovered, hath much more 
 Establish'd, in a safe unenvied throne, 
 Yielded with full consent. The happier state 
 In Heaven, which follows dignity, might draw 
 Envy from each inferior; but who here 
 Will envy, whom the highest place exposes, 
 Foremost to stand against the Thunderer's aim. 
 Your bulwark, and condemns to greatest share 
 Of endless pain 1 ? Where there is then no good 
 For which to strive, no strife can grow up there 
 From faction; for none, sure, will claim in Hell 
 Precedence; none, whose portion is so small 
 Of present pain, that with ambitious mind 
 Will covet more. With this advantage then 
 To union, and firm faith, and firm accord, 
 More than can be in Heaven, we now return, 
 To claim our just inheritance of old; 
 Surer to prosper, than prosperity 
 Could have assured us; and by what best way, 
 Whether of open Wiar, or covert guile, 
 We now debate: who can advise may speak." 
 
 He ceased; and next him Moloch, sceptred king, 
 Stood up; the strongest and the fiercest Spirit 
 That fought in Heaven, now fiercer by despair. 
 His trust was with the Eternal to be deem'd 
 Equal in strength; and rather than be less, 
 Cared not to be at all; with that care lost, 
 Went all his fear; of God, or Hell, or worse, 
 He reck'd not; and these words thereafter spake : 
 
 "My sentence is for open war : of wiles, 
 More unexpert, I boast not : them let those 
 
PARADISE LOST. 35 
 
 Contrive who need, or when they need, not now. 
 For, while they sit contriving, shall the rest, 
 Millions that stand in arms, and longing wait 
 The signal to ascend, sit lingering here, 
 Heaven's fugitives, and for their dwelling-place 
 Accept this dark opprobrious den of shame, 
 The prison of his tyranny, who reigns 
 By our delay? No, let us rather choose, 
 Arm'd with Hell-flames and fury, all at once, 
 O'er Heaven's high towers to force resistless way; 
 Turning our tortures into horrid arms, 
 Against the torturer; when, to meet the noise 
 Of his almighty engine, he shall hear 
 Infernal thunder; and, for lightning, see 
 Black fire and horror, shot with equal rage 
 Among his Angels; and his throne itself 
 Mix'd with Tartarean sulphur, and strange fire, 
 His own invented torments. But perhaps 
 The way seems difficult and steep to scale, 
 With upright wing, against a higher foe. 
 Let such bethink them; if the sleepy drench 
 Of that forgetful lake benumb not still; 
 That in our proper motion we ascend 
 Up to our native seat: descent and fall 
 To us is adverse. Who but felt of late, 
 When the fierce foe hung on our broken rear, 
 Insulting, and pursued us through the deep, 
 With what compulsion and laborious flight 
 We sunk thus low? The ascent is easy then; 
 The event is fear'd; should we again provoke 
 Our stronger, some worse way his wrath may find 
 
30 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 To our destruction; if there be in Hell 
 Fear to be worse destroy'd. What can be worse 
 Than to dwell here, driven out from bliss, con- 
 In this abhorred deep, to utter woe; [demn'd 
 Where pain of unextinguishable fire 
 Must exorcise us, without hope of end, 
 The vassals of his anger, when the scourge 
 Inexorable, and the torturing hour, 
 Calls us to penance? More destroy'd than thus, 
 We should be quite abolish'd, and expire. 
 What fear we then? what doubt we to incense 
 His utmost ire? which to the height enraged, 
 Will either quite consume us, and reduce 
 To nothing this essential; happier far 
 Than, miserable, to have eternal being: 
 Or, if.pur substance be indeed divine, 
 And cannot cease to be, we are at worst 
 On this side nothing; and by proof we feel 
 Our power sufficient to disturb his Heaven, 
 And with perpetual inroads to alarm, 
 Though inaccessible, his fatal throne: 
 Which, if not victory, is yet revenge." 
 
 He ended frowning, and his look denounced 
 Desperate revenge, and battle dangerous 
 To less than Gods. On the other side up-rose 
 Belial, in act more graceful and humane; 
 A fairer person lost not Heaven; he seem'd 
 For dignity composed and high exploit; 
 But all was false and hollow; though his tongue 
 Dropt manna, and could make the worse appear 
 The better reason, to perplex and dash 
 
PARADISE LOST. 37 
 
 Maturest counsels; for his thoughts were low; 
 To vice industrious, but to nobler deeds 
 Timorous and slothful; yet he pleased the ear; 
 And with persuasive accent thus began. 
 
 " I should be much for open war, Peers, 
 As not behind in hate; if what was urged, 
 Main reason to persuade immediate war, 
 Did not dissuade me most, and seem to cast 
 Ominous conjecture on the whole success; 
 When he, who most excels in fact of arms, 
 In what he counsels, and in what excels, 
 Mistrustful, grounds his courage on despair, 
 And utter dissolution, as the scope 
 Of all his aim, after some dire revenge. 
 First, what revenge? The towers of Heaven are fill'd 
 With armed watch, that render all access 
 Impregnable: oft on the bordering deep 
 Encamp their legions; or, with obscure wing, 
 Scout far and wide into the realm of night, 
 Scorning surprise. Or could we break our way 
 By force, and at our heels all Hell should rise, 
 With blackest insurrection, to confound 
 Heaven's purest light, yet our great Enemy, 
 All incorruptible, would on his throne 
 Sit unpolluted; and the ethereal mould, 
 Incapable of stain, would soon expel 
 Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire, 
 Victorious. Thus repulsed, our final hope 
 Is flat despair. We must exasperate 
 The Almighty Victor, to spend all his rage, 
 And that must end us, that must be our cure, 
 
38 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 To be no more. Sad cure! for who would lose, 
 Though full of pain, this intellectual being, 
 Those thoughts, that wander through eternity, 
 To perish rather, swallow'd up and lost, 
 In the wide womb of uncreated night, 
 Devoid of sense and motion 1 and who knows, 
 Let this be good, whether our angry foe 
 Can give it, or will ever? how he can, 
 Is doubtful; that he never will, is sure. 
 Will he, so wise, let loose at once his ire, 
 Belike through impotence, or unaware, 
 To give his enemies their wish, and end 
 Them in his anger, whom his anger saves 
 To punish endless 1 ? Wherefore cease we then, 
 Say they who counsel war 1 ? we are decreed, 
 Reserved, and destined, to eternal woe, 
 Whatever doing; what can we suffer more, 
 What can we suffer worse 1 ? Is this then worst, 
 Thus sitting, thus consulting, thus in arms? 
 What when we fled amain, pursued, and struck 
 With Heaven's afflicting thunder, and besought 
 The deep to shelter us 1 this Hell then seem'd 
 A refuge from those wounds: or when we lay 
 Chain' d on the burning lake 1 ? that sure was worse. 
 What if the breath that kindled those grim fires, 
 Awaked, should blow them into seven-fold rage, 
 And plunge us in the flames'? or, from above, 
 Should intermitted vengeance arm again 
 His red right hand to plague us 1 ? What if all 
 Her stores were open'd, and this firmament 
 Of Hell should spout her cataracts of fire, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 39 
 
 Impendent horrors, threatening hideous fall, 
 One day upon our heads; while we perhaps, 
 Designing or exhorting glorious war, 
 Caught in a fiery tempest, shall be hurl'd. 
 Each on his rock transfixed, the sport and prey 
 Of wracking whirlwinds; or for ever sunk 
 Under yon boiling ocean, wrapt in chains; 
 There to converse, with everlasting groans, 
 Unrespited, unpitied, unreprieved, 
 Ages of hopeless end? This would be worse. 
 Wajj therefore, open or conceal*^. alike r 
 My JJ jtofi!ilflid s ; f r what can force or guile 
 With him, or who deceive his mind, whose eye 
 Views all things at one view? He from Heaven's 
 All these our motions vain, sees and derides; [height, 1 
 Not more almighty, to resist our might, 
 Than wise, to frustrate all our plots and wiles. 
 Shall we then live thus vile, the race of Heaven, 
 Thus trampled, thus expell'd, to suffer here 
 Chains and these torments? better these than worse, 
 By my advice; since fate inevitable 
 Subdues us, and omnipotent decree, 
 The Victor's will. To suffer, as to do, 
 Our strength is equal; nor the law unjust 
 That so ordains: this was at first resolved, 
 If we were wise, against so great a foe 
 Contending, and so doubtful what might fall. 
 I laugh, when those, who at the spear are bold 
 And venturous, if that fail them, shrink and fear, 
 What yet they know must follow, to endure 
 Exile, or ignominy, or bonds, or pain, 
 
40 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 The sentence of their conqueror: this is now 
 Our doom; which if we can sustain and bear, 
 Our supreme foe, in time, may much remit 
 His anger; and perhaps, thus far removed, 
 Not mind us, not offending, satisfied 
 With what is punished: whence, these raging fires 
 Will slacken, if his hreath stir not their flames. 
 Our purer essence then will overcome 
 Their noxious vapour; or inured, not feel; 
 Or changed at length, and to the place conform'd 
 In temper and in nature, will receive 
 Familiar the fierce heat; and void of pain; 
 This horror will grow mild, this darkness light; 
 Besides what hope the never-ending flight [change, 
 Of future days may bring, what chance, what 
 Worth waiting; since our present lot appears 
 For happy, though but ill, for ill not worst, 
 If we procure not to ourselves more woe." 
 
 Thus Belial, with words cloth'd in reason's garb, 
 Counsell'd ignoble ease, and peaceful sloth, 
 Not peace: and after him thus Mammon spake. 
 
 " Either, to disen throne the King of Heaven 
 We war, if war be best, or to regain 
 Our own right lost. Him to unthrone we then 
 May hope, when everlasting fate shall yield 
 To fickle chance, and Chaos judge the strife. 
 The former, vain to hope, argues as vain 
 The latter: for what place can be for us, [supreme 
 Within Heaven's bound, unless Heaven's Lord 
 We overpower? Suppose he should relent, 
 And publish grace to all, on promise made 
 
PARADISE LOST. 41 
 
 Of new subjection; with what eyes could we 
 Stand in his presence, humble, and receive 
 Strict laws imposed to celebrate his throne, 
 With warbled hymns, and to his Godhead sing 
 Forced hallelujahs; while he lordly sits 
 Our envied Sovereign, and his altar breathes 
 Ambrosial odours and ambrosial flowers, 
 Our servile offerings? This must be our task 
 In Heaven, this our delight: how wearisome 
 Eternity so spent, in worship paid 
 To whom we hate ! Let us not then pursue 
 By force impossible, by leave obtained 
 Unacceptable, though in Heaven, our state 
 Of splendid vassalage; but rather seek 
 \ Qur own good from ourselves, and from our own, 
 Live to ourselves, though in this vast recess, 
 Free, and to none accountable, preferring 
 Hard liberty, before the easy yoke 
 Of servile pomp. Our greatness will appear 
 Then most conspicuous, when great things of small, 
 LTseful of hurtful, prosperous of adverse, 
 We can create; and in what place soe'er 
 Thrive under evil, and work ease out of pain, 
 Through labour and endurance. This deep world 
 Of darkness do we dread? How oft, amidst 
 Thick clouds and dark, doth Heaven's all-ruling 
 Choose to reside, his glory unobscured, [Sire 
 
 And with the majesty of darkness round 
 Covers his throne; from whence deep thunders roar, 
 Mustering their rage, and Heaven resembles Hell? 
 As he our darkness, cannot we his light 
 
42 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Imitate when we please? This desert soil 
 Wants not her hidden lustre, gems and gold; 
 Nor want we skill or art, from whence to raise 
 Magnificence; and what can Heaven show more? 
 Our torments also may, in length of time, 
 Become our elements; these piercing fires 
 As soft as now severe, our temper changed 
 Into their temper; which must needs remove 
 The sensible of pain. All things invite 
 To peaceful counsels, and the settled state 
 Of order; how in safety best we may 
 Compose our present evils, with regard 
 Of what we are, and where; dismissing quite 
 All thoughts of war: ye have what I advise." 
 
 He scarce had finished, when such murmur fill'd 
 The assembly, as when hollow rocks retain [long 
 The sound of blustering winds, which all night 
 Had roused the sea; now with hoarse cadence lull 
 Sea-faring men, o'erwatch'd, whose bark, by chance, 
 Or pinnace, anchors in a craggy bay 
 After the tempest. Such applause was heard 
 As Mammon ended, and his sentence pleased. 
 Advising peace: for such another field 
 They dreaded worse than Hell: so much the fear 
 Of thunder, and the sword of Michael, 
 Wrought still within them; and no less desire 
 To found this nether empire, which might rise 
 By policy, and long process of time, 
 In emulation opposite to Heaven. 
 Which when Beelzebub perceived; than whom, 
 Satan except, none higher sat, with grave 
 
PARADISE LOST. 43 
 
 Aspect he rose; and in his rising seem'd 
 A pillar of state. Deep on his front, engraven 
 Deliberation sat, and public care; 
 And princely counsel in his face yet shone, 
 Majestic though in ruin: sage he stood, 
 With Atlantean shoulders, fit to bear 
 The weight of mightiest monarchies. His look 
 Drew audience and attention, still as night, 
 Or summer's noon-tide air, while thus he spake: 
 "Thrones and Imperial Powers! Offspring of 
 Ethereal Virtues ! or, these titles now [Heaven ! 
 Must we renounce, and changing style, be call'd 
 Princes of Hell? for so the popular vote 
 Inclines, here to continue, and build up here 
 A growing empire. Doubtless ! while we dream, 
 And know not, that the King of Heaven hathdoom'd 
 This place our dungeon; not our safe retreat, 
 Beyond his potent arm; to live exempt 
 From Heaven's high jurisdiction, in new league, 
 Banded against his throne; but to remain 
 In strictest bondage, though thus far removed, 
 Under the inevitable curb, reserved 
 His captive multitude. For he, be sure, 
 In height or depth, still first and last will reign, 
 Sole King, and of his kingdom lose no part 
 By our revolt; but over Hell extend 
 His empire, and with iron sceptre rule 
 Us here, as with his golden, those in Heaven. 
 What sit we then projecting peace and war? 
 War hath determined us, and foil'd with loss 
 Irreparable: terms of peace yet none 
 
44 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Vouchsafed or sought. For what peace will b& 
 To us enslaved, but custody severe, [given 
 
 And stripes, and arbitrary punishment 
 Inflicted? and what peace can we return? 
 But to our power hostility and hate, 
 Untamed reluctance, and revenge, though slow; 
 Yet ever plotting, how the conqueror least 
 May reap his conquest, and may least rejoice 
 In doing, what we most in suffering feel. 
 Nor will occasion want, nor shall we need, 
 With dangerous expedition, to invade 
 Heaven, whose high walls fear no assault, or siege, 
 Or ambush, from the deep. What if we find 
 Some easier enterprise 1 There is a place 
 If ancient and prophetic fame in Heaven 
 Err not another world, the happy seat 
 Of some new race call'd Man, about this time 
 To be created, like to us, though less 
 In power and excellence, but favour'd more 
 Of Him who rules above. So was his will 
 Pronounced among the Gods; and by an oath, 
 That shook Heaven's whole circumference, con- 
 Thither let us bend all our thoughts, to learn [firm'd. 
 What creatures there inhabit; of what mould 
 Or substance; how endued, and what their power, 
 And where tteir weakness; how attempted best, 
 By force or subtlety. Though Heaven be shut, 
 And Heaven's high Arbitrator sit secure 
 In his own strength; this place may lie exposed 
 The utmost border of his kingdom, left 
 To their defence who hold it. Here, perhaps, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 45 
 
 Some_adyantageous ac t mav b e achieved, 
 
 By sudden onset; either with Hell-fire, 
 
 To waste his whole creation, or possess 
 
 All as our own, and drive, as we were driven, 
 
 The puny habitants; or, if not drive, 
 
 Seduce them to our party, that their God 
 
 May prove their foe, and with repenting hand 
 
 Abpjjgh hi^o^yjp w^jj^g This would surpass 
 
 Common revenge; and interrupt his joy, 
 
 In our confusion, and our joy upraise, 
 
 In his disturbance; when his darling sons, 
 
 Hurl'd headlong, to partake with us, shall curse 
 
 Their frail original, and faded bliss, 
 
 Faded so soon. Advise, if this be worth 
 
 Attempting; or to sit in darkness here, 
 
 Hatching vain empires." Thus Beelzebub 
 
 Pleaded his devilish counsel, first devised 
 
 By Satan, and in part proposed. For whence, 
 
 But from the author of all ill, could spring 
 
 So deep a malice, to confound the race 
 
 Of mankind, in one root, and Earth with Hell 
 
 To mingle and involve; done all to spite 
 
 The great Creator? But their spite still serves 
 
 His glory to augment. The bold design 
 
 Pleased highly those infernal States, and joy 
 
 Sparkled in all their eyes; with.. full assent 
 
 They vote: whereat his speech he thus renews: 
 
 " Well have ye judged, well ended long debate, 
 Synod of Gods; and, like to what ye are, 
 Great things resolved: which from the lowest deep, 
 Will once more lift us up, in spite of fate, 
 
 
 
40 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Nearer our ancient seat; perhaps in view [arms, 
 Of those bright confines, whence, with neighb'ring 
 And opportune excursion, we may chance 
 Re-enter Heaven; or else in some mild zone 
 Dwell, not unvisited of Heaven's fair light, 
 Secure; and at the bright'ning orient beam 
 Purge off this gloom: the soft delicious air, 
 To heal the scar of these corrosive fires, [send 
 Shall breathe her balm. But first, whom shall we 
 In search of this new world? whom shall we find 
 Sufficient? who shall tempt, with wandering feet 
 The dark, unbottom'd, infinite abyss, 
 And through the palpable obscure find out 
 His uncouth way; or spread his airy flight, 
 Upborne with indefatigable wings, 
 Over the vast abrupt, ere he arrive 
 The happy isle? What strength, what art can 
 Suffice, or what evasion bear him safe [then 
 
 Through the strict senteries and stations thick 
 Of Angels watching round? Here he had need 
 All circumspection; and we, now, no less 
 Choice in our suffrage; for on whom we send, 
 The weight of all, and our last hope, relies." 
 
 This said, he sat; and expectation held 
 His look suspense, awaiting who appear'd 
 To second, or oppose, or undertake 
 The perilous attempt: but all sat mute, 
 Pondering the danger, with deep thoughts; and 
 In other's countenance read his own dismay, [each 
 Astonish'd. None among the choice and prime 
 Of those Heaven-warring champions, could be found 
 
PARADISE LOST. 47 
 
 So hardy, as to proffer or accept, 
 Alone, the dreadful voyage; till at last 
 Satan, whom now transcendent glory raised 
 Above his fellows, with monarchal pride, 
 Conscious of highest worth, unmoved, thus spake. 
 
 " progeny of Heaven ! empyreal thrones ! 
 With reason hath deep silence and demur 
 Seized us, though undismay'd: long is the way 
 And hard, that out of Hell leads up to light; 
 Our prison strong; this huge convex of fire, 
 Outrageous to devour, immures us round 
 Ninefold; and gates of burning adamant, 
 Barred over us, prohibit all egress. 
 These pass'd, if any pass, the void profound 
 Of unessential Night receives him next, 
 Wide gaping, and with utter loss of being 
 Threatens him, plunged in that abortive gulf. 
 If thence he 'scape, into whatever world, 
 Or unknown region, what remains him less 
 Than unknown dangers, and as hard escape? 
 But I should ill become this throne, Peers, 
 And this imperial sovereignty, adorn'd [posed, 
 With splendour, arm'd with power, if aught pro- 
 And judged of public moment, in the shape 
 Of difficulty or danger, could deter 
 Me from attempting. Wherefore do I assume 
 These royalties, and not refuse to reign, 
 Refusing to accept as great a share 
 Of hazard as of honour, due alike 
 To him who reigns, and so much to him due 
 Of hazard more, as he above the rest 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 High honour' d sits? Go, therefore, mighty powers! 
 Terror of Heaven, though fall'n ! intend at home, 
 While here shall be our home, what best may ease 
 The present misery, and render Hell 
 More tolerable; if there be cure or charm 
 To respite, or deceive, or slack the pain 
 Of this ill mansion. Intermit no watch 
 Against a wakeful foe, while I, abroad, 
 Through all the coasts of dark destruction, seek 
 Deliverance for us all. This enterprise 
 None shall partake with me." Thus saying, rose 
 The Monarch, and prevented all reply; 
 Prudent, lest, from his resolution raised, 
 Others among the chief might offer now, 
 Certain to be refused, what erst they fear'd; 
 And, so refused, might in opinion stand 
 His rivals; winning cheap the high repute, [they 
 Which he through hazard huge must earn. But 
 Dreaded not more the adventure, than his voice 
 Forbidding; and at once with him they rose: 
 Their rising, all at once, was as the sound 
 Of thunder heard remote. Towards him they bend, 
 With awful reverence prone; and as a God 
 Extol him, equal to the Highest in Heaven. 
 Nor fail'd they to express, how much they praised, 
 That, for the general safety, he despised 
 His own: for neither do the Spirits damn'd 
 Lose all their virtue, lest bad men should boast 
 Their specious deeds on earth, which glory excites, 
 Or close ambition, varnish'd o'er with zeal. 
 Thus they their doubtful consultations dark 
 
PARADISE LOST. 49 
 
 Ended, rejoicing in their matchless Chief:} 
 
 As when from mountain-tops the dusky clouds 
 
 Ascending, while the north- wind sleeps, o'erspread 
 
 Heaven's cheerful face, the lowering element 
 
 Scowls o'er the darken'd landscape, snow or shower; 
 
 If chance the radiant sun with farewell sweet, 
 
 Extend his evening-beam, the fields revive, 
 
 The birds their notes renew, and bleating herds 
 
 Attest their joy, that hill and valley ring. 
 
 shame to men ! Devil with Devil damned 
 
 Firm concord holds, men only disagree 
 
 Of creatures rational; though under hope 
 
 Of heavenly grace, and God proclaiming peace: 
 
 Yet live in hatred, enmity, and strife, 
 
 Among themselves, and levy cruel wars, 
 
 Wasting the earth, each other to destroy; 
 
 As if, which might induce us to accond, 
 
 Man had not hellish foes enow besides, 
 
 That day and night for his destruction 
 
 The Stygian council thus dissolved; and forth 
 In order came the grand infernal peers. 
 Midst came their mighty Paramount, and seem'd 
 Alone the antagonist of Heaven; nor less 
 Than Hell's dread emperor, with pomp supreme, 
 And god-like imitated state: him round 
 A globe of fiery seraphim enclosed, 
 With bright emblazonry, and horrent arms. 
 Then of their session ended they bid cry, 
 With trumpets' regal sound, the great result, 
 Toward the four winds, four speedy Cherubim 
 "Put to their mouths the sounding alchemy, 
 
 
50 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 By herald's voice explained: the hollow abyss 
 Heard far and wide, and all the host of Hell, 
 With deafening shout, return'd them loud acclaim. 
 Thence, more at ease their minds, and somewhat 
 
 raised 
 
 By false presumptuous hope, the ranged Powers 
 Disband; and wandering each his several way. 
 Pursues, as inclination or sad choice 
 Leads him, perplex'd, where he may likeliest find 
 Truce to his restless thoughts, and entertain 
 The irksome hours, till his great chief return. 
 Part on the plain, or in the air sublime 
 Upon the wing, or in swift race contend, 
 As at the Olympian games or Pythian fields: 
 Part curb their fiery steeds, or shun the goal 
 With rapid wheels, or fronted brigades form: 
 As when, to warn proud cities, war appears 
 Waged in the troubled sky, and armies rush 
 To battle in the clouds; before each van 
 Prick forth the airy knights, and couch their^spfiars 
 Till thickest legions close: with feats of arms. 
 From either end of Heaven, the welkin burns. 
 Others, with vast Typhcean rage more fell, 
 Rend up both rocks and hills, and ride the air 
 In whirlwind; Hell scarce holds the wild uproar 
 As when AlidS^.from (Echalia crown'd 
 With conquest, felt the envenom' d robe, and tore, 
 Through pain, up by the roots, Thessalian pines; 
 And Lichas, from the top of (Eta, threw 
 Into the Euboic sea. Others more mild, 
 Retreated in a silent valley; sing, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 51 
 
 With notes angelical, to many a harp, 
 Their own heroic deeds, and hapless fall 
 By doom of battle; and complain, that fate 
 Free virtue should enthral to force or chance. 
 Their song was partial; but the harmony 
 What could it less when Spirits immortal sing? 
 Suspended Hell, and took with ravishment 
 The thronging audience. In discourse more sweet, 
 For eloquence the soul, song charms the sense, 
 Others apart sat, on a hill retired, 
 In thoughts more elevate, and reason'd high 
 Of Providence, foreknowledge, will, and fate; 
 ^M ffl.tf^ frpfi will, foreknowledge 
 
 And found no end, in wandering mazes lost : 
 Of good and evil much they argued then, 
 Of happiness, and final misery, 
 Passion and apathy, and glory, and shame: 
 Vain wisdom all, and false philosophy : 
 Yet, with a pleasing sorcery, could charm 
 Pain for a while, or anguish, and excite 
 Fallacious hope; or arm the obdured breast 
 With stubborn patience, as with triple steel. 
 Another part, in squadrons and gross bands, 
 On bold adventure, to discover wide 
 That dismal world, if any clime perhaps 
 Might yield them easier habitation, bend 
 Four ways their flying march, along the banks 
 Of four infernal rivers, that disgorge, 
 Into the burning lake, their baleful streams; 
 Abhorred iStyjs, the flood of deadly hate; 
 Sad Acheron, of sorrow black and deep; 
 
PARADISE LOST, 
 
 Cocytus, named of lamentation loud 
 
 Heard on the rueful stream; fierce Phlegethon, 
 
 Whose waves of torrent-fire inflame with rage. 
 
 Far off from these, a slow and silent stream, 
 
 Lethe, the river of oblivion, rolls 
 
 Her watery labyrinth, whereof who drinks, 
 
 Forthwith his former state and being forgets; 
 
 Forgets both joy and grief, pleasure and pain. 
 
 Beyond this flood, a frozen continent 
 
 Lies, dark and wild, beat with perpetual storms 
 
 Of whirlwind and dire hail, which on firm land 
 
 Thaws not; but gathers heap, and ruin seems 
 
 Of ancient pile : or else deep snow and ice, 
 
 A gulf profound, as that Serbonian bog 
 
 Betwixt Damiata and Mount Casius old, 
 
 Where armies whole have sunk: the parching ?ir 
 
 Burns Jrore, and cold performs the effect of fire. 
 
 Thither, by harpy-footed furies haled, 
 
 At certain revolutions, all the damn'd 
 
 Are brought; and feel by turns the bitter change 
 
 Of fierce extremes; extremes by change more fierce; 
 
 From beds of raging fire, to starve in ice 
 
 Their soft ethereal warmth, and there to pine 
 
 Immovable, infix'd, and frozen round, 
 
 Periods of time; thence hurried back to fire. 
 
 They ferry over this Lethean sound, 
 
 Both to and fro, their sorrow to augment; 
 
 And wish and struggle, as they pass, to reach 
 
 The tempting stream, with one small drop to lose, 
 
 In sweet forgetfulness, all pain and woe, 
 
 All in one moment, and so near the brink: 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 But fate withstands; and to oppose the attempt, 
 
 Medusa, with Gorgonian terror, guards 
 
 The ford; and of itself the water flies 
 
 All taste of living wight, as once it fled 
 
 The lip of Tantalus. Thus roving on, 
 
 In confused march forlorn, the adventurous bands. 
 
 With shuddering horror pale, and eyes aghast, 
 
 View'd first their lamentable lot, and found 
 
 No rest. Through many a dark and dreary vale 
 
 They pass'd, and many a region dolorous; 
 
 O'er many a frozen, many a fiery Alp, [of death: 
 
 Rocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens, and shades 
 
 A universe of death, which God by curse 
 
 Created evil, for evil only good: 
 
 Where all life dies, death lives, and nature breeds. 
 
 Perverse, all monstrous, all prodigious things, 
 
 Abominable, inutterable, and worse 
 
 Than fables yet have feign'd, or fear conceived, 
 
 , Gorgons, and Hydras, and Chimseras dire. 
 J.-1 x Meanwhile the Adversary of God and Man, 
 Satan, with thoughts inflamed of highest design, 
 Puts on swift wings, and towards the gates of Hell 
 Explores his solitary flight. Sometimes 
 He scours the right hand coast, sometimes the left : 
 Now shaves with level wing the deep, then soars 
 Up to the fiery concave, towering high: 
 As when, far off at sea, a fleet descry'd 
 Hangs on the clouds, by equinoctial winds 
 Close sailing from Bengala, or the isles 
 
 ! Of Ternate and Tidore, whence merchants brins: 
 
 I : O 
 
 Their spicy drugs; they, on the trading flood, 
 
54 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Through the wide Ethiopian to the Cape 
 Ply, stemming nightly toward the pole: so seem'd* 
 Far off the flying Fiend. At last appear 
 Hell bounds, high reaching to the horrid roof, 
 And thrice three-fold the gates; three folds were 
 Three iron, three of adamantine rock, [brass, 
 
 Impenetrable, empaled with circling fire, 
 Yet unconsumed. Before the gates there sat, 
 On either side, a formidable shape; 
 The one seem'd woman to the waist, and fair, 
 But ended foul, in many a scaly fold, 
 Voluminous and vast, a serpent arm'd 
 With mortal sting: about her middle round 
 A cry of Hell-hounds never ceasing bark'd, 
 With wide Cerberean mouths full loud, and rung 
 A hideous peal; yet, when they list, would creep, 
 If aught disturb'd their noise, into her womb, 
 And kennel there; yet there still bark'd and howl'd 
 Within, unseen. Far less abhorr'd than these 
 Yex'd Scylla, bathing in the sea, that parts 
 Calabria from the hoarse Trinacrian shore: 
 Nor uglier follow the night-hag, when, call'd 
 In secret, riding through the air she comes, 
 Lured with the smell of infant blood, to dance 
 With Lapland witches; while the labouring moon 
 Eclipses at their charms. The other shape, 
 If shape it might be call'd that shape had none 
 Distinguishable, in member, joint, or limb; 
 Or substance might be call'd, that shadow seem'd , 
 For each seem'd either: black it stood as Night, 
 Fierce as ten furies, terrible as Hell, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 And shook a dreadful dart: what seem'd his head. 
 The likeness of a kingly crown had on. 
 Satan was now at hand; and from his seat 
 The monster, moving onward, came as fast, 
 With horrid strides: Hell trembled as he strode. 
 The undaunted fiend, what this might be, admired, 
 Admired, not fear'd: God and his Son except, 
 Created thing nought valued he, nor shunn'd; 
 And with disdainful look, thus first began: 
 
 " Whence, and what art thou, execrable shape, 
 That darest, though grim and terrible, advance 
 Thy miscreated front athwart niy way 
 To yonder gates? Through them I mean to pass. 
 That be assured, without leave asked of thee. 
 Retire, or taste thy folly, and learn by proof, 
 Hell-born, not to contend with Spirits of Heaven." 
 
 To whom the goblin, full of wrath, replied, 
 " Art thou that traitor- Angel, art thou he, 
 Who first broke peace in Heaven, and faith, till 
 Unbroken; and, in proud rebellious arms, [then 
 Drew after him the third part of Heaven's sons, 
 Conjured against the Highest; for which both thou 
 And they, outcast from God, are here condemn'd 
 To waste eternal days in woe and pain? 
 And reckon'st thou thyself with Spirits of Heaven, 
 Hell-doom'd, and breathest defiance here and scorn, 
 Where I reign king, and, to enrage, thee more, 
 Thy king and lord*? Back to thy punishment, 
 False fugitive; and to thy speed add wings, 
 Lest, with a whip of scorpions, I pursue 
 Thy lingering; or, with one stroke of this dart 
 
56 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Strange horror seize thee, and pangs unfelt before." 
 
 So spake the grisly Terror, and in shape, 
 So speaking, and so threatening, grew ten-fold 
 More dreadful and deform. On the other side, 
 Incensed with indignation, Satan stood 
 Unterrified; and like a comet burned, 
 That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge, 
 In the arctic sky, and from his horrid hair 
 Shakes pestilence and war. Each at the head 
 Levell'd his deadly aim: their fatal hands 
 No second stroke intend; and such a frown 
 Each cast at the other, as when two black clouds, 
 With heaven's artillery fraught, come rattling on 
 Over the Caspian; then stand front to front, 
 Hovering a space, till winds the signal blow, 
 To join their dark encounter in mid air. 
 So frown'd the mighty combatants, that Hell 
 Grew darker at their frown; so match'd they stood : 
 For never but once more was either like 
 To meet so great a foe: and now great deeds 
 Had been achieved, whereof all Hell had rung, 
 Had not the snaky sorceress, that sat 
 Fast by hell-gate, and kept the fatal key, 
 Risen, and with hideous outcry rush'd between. 
 "0 Father, what intends thy hand," she cried, 
 "Against thy only son? What fury, Son, 
 Possesses thee, to bend that mortal dart 
 Against thy Father's head? and know'st for whom? 
 For him, who sits above, and laughs the while 
 At thee, ordain'd his drudge, to execute 
 Whate'er his wrath, which he calls justice, bids; 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 His wrath, which one day will destroy ye both." 
 
 She spake, and at her words the hellish pest 
 Forbore; then these to her Satan returned : 
 " So strange thy outcry, and thy words so strange 
 Thou interposest, that my sudden hand, 
 Prevented, spares to tell thee yet by deeds, 
 What it intends; till first I know of thee, [why, 
 What thing thou art, thus double-formed; and 
 In this infernal vale first met, thou call'st 
 Me father, and that phantasm call's: my son: 
 I know thee not, nor ever saw till now 
 Sight more detestable, than him and thee." 
 
 To whom, thus the portress of Hell-gate replied. 
 " Hast thou forgot me then, and do I seem 
 Now in thine eye so foul? once deem'd so fair 
 In Heaven, when at the assembly, and in sight 
 Of all the Seraphim, with thee combined, 
 In bold conspiracy against Heaven's King, 
 All on a sudden miserable pain 
 Surprised thee; dim thine eyes, and dizzy swam 
 In darkness, while thy head flames thick and fast 
 Threw forth, till on the left side, opening wide, 
 Likest to thee in shape and countenance bright, 
 Then shining heavenly fair, a goddess arm'd, 
 Out of thy head I sprang. Amazement seized 
 All the host of Heaven; back they recoil'd, afraivl 
 At first, and call'd me SIN: and for a sign 
 Portentous held me: but familiar grown, 
 1 pleased, arid with attractive graces won 
 The most averse; thee chiefly, who full oft, 
 Thyself in me thy perfect image viewing, 
 
58 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Becamest enamour'd; and such joy tliou took'st 
 With me in secret, that my womb conceived 
 A growing burden. Meanwhile war arose, 
 And fields were fought in Heaven; wherein re- 
 
 main'd, 
 
 For what could else? to our Almighty Foe 
 Clear victory; to our part, loss and rout, 
 Through all the empyrean. Down they fell 
 Driven headlong from the pitch of Heaven, down 
 Into this deep; and, in the general fall, 
 I also: at which time, this powerful key 
 Into my hand was given, with charge to keep 
 These gates for ever shut; which none can pass 
 Without my opening. Pensive here I sat, 
 Alone; but long I sat not, till my womb, 
 Pregnant by thee, and now excessive grown, 
 Prodigious motion felt, and rueful throes. 
 At last this odious offspring whom thou seest, 
 Thine own begotten, breaking violent way, 
 Tore through my entrails; that with fear and pain 
 Distorted, all my nether shape thus grew 
 Transform'd : but he, my inbred enemy, 
 Forth issued, brandishing his fatal dart, 
 Made to destroy. I fled, and cried out, DEATH ! 
 Hell trembled at the hideous name, and sigh'd 
 From all her caves, and back resounded, DEATH ! 
 I fled; but he pursued, though more, it seems, 
 Inflamed with lust than rage, and swifter far, 
 Me overtook, his mother, all dismay'd, 
 And in embraces forcible and foul 
 Ingendering with me, of that rape begot 
 
PARADISE LOST. 59 
 
 These yelling monsters, that with ceaseless cry 
 Surround me, as thou saw'st; hourly conceived, 
 And hourly born, with sorrow infinite 
 To me; for when they list, into the womb 
 That bred them they return, and howl and gnaw 
 My bowels, their repast: then bursting forth 
 Afresh, with conscious terrors vex me round; 
 That rest or intermission none I find. 
 Before mine eyes, in opposition sits 
 Grim Death, my son and foe, who sets them on; 
 And me, his parent, would full soon devour, 
 For want of other prey, but that he knows 
 His end with mine involved; and knows, that I 
 Should prove a bitter morsel, and his bane, 
 Wheneve that shall be: so Fate pronounced. 
 But thou, Father, I forewarn thee, shun 
 His deadly arrow; neither vainly hope 
 To be invulnerable in those bright arms, 
 Though tempered heavenly; for, that mortal dint, 
 Save he who reigns above, none can resist. 
 
 She finish'd; and the subtle fiend his lore 
 Soon learn'd, now milder, and thus answerM 
 
 smooth: 
 
 " Dear daughter, since thou claim'st me for thy sire, 
 And my fair son here show'st me, the dear pledge 
 Of dalliance had with thee in Heaven, and joys 
 Then sweet, now sad to mention, through dire 
 
 change 
 
 Befallen us unforeseen, un thought of; know, 
 I come no enemy, but to set free, 
 From out this dark and dismal house of pain, 
 
60 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Both him and thee; and all the heavenly host 
 Of Spirits, that, in our just pretences arm'd, 
 Fell with us from on high. From them I go 
 This uncouth errand, sole, and one for all, 
 Myself expose; with lonely steps to tread [mense 
 The unfounded deep, and through the void im- 
 To search, with wandering quest, a place foretold 
 Should be, and, by concurring signs, ere now 
 Created, vast and round, a place of bliss, 
 In the gpliej^ of Heaven; and therein placed 
 A race of upstart creatures, to supply 
 Perhaps our vacant room, though more removed ; 
 Lest Heaven, surcharged with potent multitude, 
 Might hap to move new broils. Be this, or augbt 
 Than this more secret, now design'd, I haste 
 To know; and, this once known, shall soon return, 
 And bring ye to the place, where thou and Death 
 Shall dwell at ease; and up and down unseen 
 Wing silently the buxom air, imbalm'd 
 With odours; there ye shall be fed and fill'd 
 Immeasurably: all things shall be your prey." 
 
 He ceased; for both seem'd highly pleased, and 
 G-rinn'd horrible a ghastly smile, to hear [Death 
 His famine should be fill'd; and blessed his maw, 
 Destined to that good hour: no less rejoiced 
 His mother bad, and thus bespake her sire : 
 
 11 The key of this infernal pit by due, 
 And by command of Heaven's all-powerful King, 
 I keep; by him forbidden to unlock 
 These adamantine gates : against all force 
 Death ready stands to interpose his dart, 
 
PARADISE LOST. () 1 
 
 Fearless to be o'errnatch'd by living might. 
 But what owe I to his commands above, 
 Who hates me, and hath hither thrust me down, 
 Into this gloom of Tartarus profound; 
 To sit in hateful office here confined, 
 Inhabitant of heaven, and heavenly-born, 
 Here, in perpetual agony and pain, 
 With terrors and with clamours compass'd round 
 Of mine own brood, that on my bowels feed? 
 Thou art my father, thou my author, thou 
 My being gavest me; whom should I obey 
 But thee? whom follow? thou wilt bring me soon 
 To that new world of light and bliss, among 
 The Gods who live at ease; where I shall reign 
 At thy right hand voluptuous, as beseems 
 Thy daughter and thy darling, without end." 
 
 Thus saying, from her side the fatal key, 
 Sad instrument of all our woe, she took; 
 And towards the gate rolling her bestial train. 
 Forthwith the huge portcullis high up drew; 
 Which, but herself, not all the Stygian Powers 
 Could once have moved: then in the keyhole turns 
 The intricate wards, and every bolt and bar, 
 Of massy iron or solid rock, with ease 
 Unfastens. On a sudden open fly, 
 With impetuous recoil and jarring sound 
 The infernal doors, and on their hinges grate 
 Harsh thunder, that the lowest bottom shook 
 Of Erebus. She open'd, but to shut 
 Excell'd her power; the gates wide open stood, 
 That with extended wings, a banner'd host, 
 
62 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Under spread ensigns marching, might pass through, 
 
 With horse and chariots rarik'd in loose array; 
 
 So wide they stood; and like a furnace-mouth 
 
 Cast forth redounding smoke and ruddy flame. 
 
 Before their eyes, in sudden view appear, 
 
 The secrets of the hoary deep; a dark 
 
 Illimitable ocean, without bound, [height. 
 
 Without dimension; where length, breadth, and 
 
 And time, and place, are lost; where eldest Night 
 
 And Chaos, ancestors of Nature, hold 
 
 Eternal anarchy, amidst the noise 
 
 Of endless wars; and by confusion stand 
 
 For hot, cold, moist, and dry, four champions fierce, 
 
 Strive here for mastery, and to battle bring 
 
 Their embryon atoms: they around the flag 
 
 Of each his faction, in their several clans, 
 
 Light-arm'd, or heavy, sharp, smooth, swift or slow. 
 
 Swarm populous, unnumber'd as the sands 
 
 Of Barca or Gyrene's torrid soil, 
 
 Levied to side with warring winds, and poise 
 
 Their lighter wings. To whom these most adhere 
 
 He rules a moment : Chaos umpire sits, 
 
 And by decision more embroils the fray, 
 
 By which he reigns: next him, high arbiter, 
 
 Chance governs all. Into this wild abyss, 
 
 The womb of Nature, and perhaps her grave, 
 
 Of neither sea, nor shore, nor air, nor fire, 
 
 But all these, in their pregnant causes, mix'd 
 
 Confusedly; and which thus must ever fight, 
 
 Unless the Almighty Maker them ordain, 
 
 His dark materials, to create new worlds : 
 
PARADISE LOST. 63 
 
 Into this wild abyss, the wary fiend 
 
 Stood on the brink of Hell, and look'd a while, 
 
 Pondering his voyage; for no narrow frith 
 
 He had to cross. Nor was his ear less peal'd 
 
 With noises loud and ruinous, to compare 
 
 Great things with small, than when Bellona storms 
 
 With all her battering engines, bent to rase 
 
 Some capi-tal city; or less, than if this frame 
 
 Of Heaven were falling, and these elements 
 
 In mutiny, had from her axle torn 
 
 The steadfast earth. At last, his sail-broad vans 
 
 He spreads for flight, and, in the surging smoke 
 
 Uplifted, spurns the ground: thence many a league, 
 
 As in a cloudy chair ascending; rides 
 
 Audacious; but that seat soon failing, meets 
 
 A vast vacuity. All unawares, 
 
 Fluttering his pennons vain, plumb down he drops 
 Ten thousand fathom deep; and to this hour 
 Down had been falling, had not, by ill chance, 
 The strong rebuff of some tumultuous cloud, 
 Instinct with fire and nitre, hurried him 
 As many miles aloft: that fury stay'd, 
 Quench'd in a boggy jyrtis^ neither sea, 
 Nor good dry land; nigh founder'd, on he fares, 
 Treading the crude consistence, half on foot, 
 Half flying; behoves him now both oar and sail, 
 As when aj|nf<Hir_th rough the wilderness 
 With winged course, o'er hill or moory dale, 
 Pursues the Arimaspian, who by stealth 
 Had, from his wakeful custody, purloin'd 
 The guarded gold : so eagerly the fiend, 
 
64 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 O'er bog, or steep, through strait, rough, dense, or 
 
 rare, 
 
 With head, hands, wings, or feet, pursues his way; 
 And swims, or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or /lies. 
 At length an universal hubbub wild 
 Of stunning sounds, and voices all confused, 
 Borne through the hollow dark, assaults his ear 
 With loudest vehemence. Thither he plies, 
 Undaunted, to meet there, whatever power, 
 Or spirit, of the nethermost abyss, 
 Might in that noise reside; of whom to ask, 
 Which way the nearest coast of darkness lies, 
 Bordering on light: when straight, behold the 
 Of Chaos, and his dark pavilion, spread [throne 
 Wide on the wasteful deep: with him enthroned, 
 Sat sable-vested Night, eldest of things, 
 The consort of his reign; and by them stood 
 Orcus and Ades, and the dreadful name 
 Of Demogorgon: Rumour next, and Chance, 
 And Tumult, and Confusion, all embroil'd; 
 And Discord, with a thousand various months. 
 To whom Satan, turning boldly, thus: " Ye powers 
 And Spirits of this nethermost abyss, 
 Chaos and ancient Night, I come no spy, 
 With purpose to explore, or to disturb 
 The secrets of your realm; but by constraint, 
 Wandering this darksome desert, as my way 
 Lies through your spacious empire, up to light: 
 Alone, and without guide, half lost, I seek [bounds 
 What readiest path leads, where your gloomy 
 Confine with Heaven; or if some other p-ac^, 
 
PARADISE LOST. G-J 
 
 From your dominion won, the ethereal King 
 Possesses lately, thither to arrive, 
 1 travel this profound: direct my course; 
 Directed, no mean recompense it brings 
 To your behoof; if I that region lost, 
 All usurpation thence expell'd, reduce 
 To her original darkness, and your sway 
 Which is my present journey and once more 
 Erect the standard there of ancient Night. 
 Yours be the advantage all, mine the revenge." 
 Thus Satan; and him thus the Anarch old, 
 With faltering speech and visage incomposed, 
 Answer'd: " I know thee, Stranger, who thou art; 
 That mighty leading angel, who of late [thrown 
 Made head against Heaven's King, though over- 
 I saw and heard; for such a numerous host 
 Fled not in silence, through the frighted deep, 
 With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout, 
 Confusion worse confounded; and Heaven-gates 
 Pour'd out by millions her victorious bands, 
 Pursuing. I upon my frontiers here 
 Keep residence; if all I can will serve 
 That little, which is left so to defend, 
 Encroach'd on still, through your intestine broils, 
 Weakening the sceptre of old Night: first Hell, , 
 Your dungeon, stretching far and wide beneath, 
 Now lately Heaven and Earth, another world, 
 Hung o'er my realm, link'd in a golden chain 
 To that side Heaven, from whence your legions fell. 
 If that way be your walk, you have not far; 
 So much the nearer danger: go, and speed: 
 
66 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Havoc, and spoil, and ruin are my gain." 
 
 He ceased; and Satan staid not to reply; 
 But glad, that now his sea should find a shore, 
 With fresh alacrity and force renew'd, 
 Springs upwa'rd, like a pyramid of fire, 
 Into the wild expanse; and, through the shock 
 Of fighting elements, on all sides round 
 Environ'd, wins his way; harder beset 
 And more endanger'd, than when 4rg pass'd 
 Through Bosporus, betwixt the justling rocks: 
 Or when Ulysses, on the larboard, shunn'd 
 Charybdis, and by the other whirlpool steer'd, 
 SoTTeTwith difficulty and labour hard, 
 Moved on; with difficulty and labour he. 
 But he once past, soon after, when man fell, 
 Strange alteration! Sin and Death amain, 
 Following his track, such was the will of Heaven, 
 Paved after him a broad and beaten way, 
 Over the dark abyss, whose boiling gulf 
 Tamely endured a bridge, of wondrous length, 
 From Hell continued, reaching the utmost orb 
 Of this frail world: by which the Spirits perverse. 
 With easy intercourse, pass to and fro 
 To tempt or punish mortals; except whom, 
 God and good angels guard, by special grace. 
 But now, at last, the sacred influence 
 Of light appears; and from the walls of Heaven 
 Shoots far, into the bosom of dim Night, 
 A glimmering dawn. Here Nature first begins 
 Her furthest verge, and Chaos to retire; 
 As from her outmost works, a broken foe. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 67 
 
 With tumult less, and with less hostile din; 
 That Satan, with less toil, and now with ease, 
 Wafts on the calmer wave, by dubious light, 
 And, like a weather-beaten vessel, holds 
 Gladly the port, though shrouds and tackle torn; 
 Or in the emptier waste, resembling air, 
 Weighs his spread wings, at leisure to behold 
 Far off the empyreal Heaven, extended wide 
 In circuit, undetermined, square or round; 
 With opal towers, and battlements adorn'd, 
 Of living sapphire, once his native seat; 
 And fast by, hanging in a golden chain, 
 This pendent world, in bigness as a star 
 Of smallest magnitude, close by the moon. 
 Thither, full fraught with mischievous revenge, 
 Accursed, and in a cursed hour, he hies. 
 
 END OF BOOK IT. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 God sitting on Ms throne sees Satan flying towards this world, 
 then newly created; shows him to the Son, who sat at hi* 
 right hand; foretells the success of Satan in perverting man- 
 kind; clears his own justice and wisdom from all imputa- 
 tion, having created Man, free, and able enough to have 
 withstood his tempter; yet declares his purpose of grace to- 
 wards him, in regard lie fell not of his own malice, as did 
 Satan, but by him seduced. The Son of God renders praises 
 to his Father for the manifestation of his gracious purpose 
 towards Man: but God again declares, that grace cannot be 
 extended towards Man -without the satisfaction of divine 
 justice; Man hath offended the majesty of God, by aspirin;/ 
 to Godhead, and therefore, with all his progeny, devoted to 
 death, must die, unless some one can be found sufficient to 
 answer for his offence, and undergo his punishment. The 
 Son of God freely offers himself a ransom for Man; the 
 Father accepts him, ordains his incarnation, pronounces 
 his exaltation above all names in heaven and earth; com- 
 mands all the angels to adore him; they obey, and, hymning 
 to their harps in full quire, celebrate the Father and the 
 Son. Meanwhile, Satan alights upon the bare convex of 
 this world's outermost orb; where, wandering, he first finds a 
 place, since called the Limbo of Vanity; what persons and 
 things fly up thither; thence comes to the gate of Heaven, de- 
 scribed ascending by stairs, and the waters above the firma- 
 ment that flow about it; his passage thence to the orb of the 
 sun, he finds there Uriel, the regent of that orb, but first 
 changes himself into the shape of a meaner angel; and, pre- 
 tending a zealous desire to behold the new creation, and 
 Man whom God had placed here, inquires of him the place 
 of his habitation, and is directed; alights first on Mount 
 Niphates. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 HAIL, holy Light ! offspring of Heaven first-born; 
 Or, of the Eternal co-eternal beam, 
 May I express thee unblamed? since God is light, 
 And never but in unapproached light 
 Dwelt from eternity; dwelt then in thee, 
 Bright effluence of bright essence increate. 
 Or hear'st thou rather, pure ethereal stream, 
 Whose fountain who shall tell? before the sun, 
 Before the heavens thou wert; and at the voice 
 Of God, as with a mantle, didst invest 
 The rising world of waters, dark and deep, 
 Won from the void and formless infinite. 
 Thee I revisit now with bolder wing, 
 Escaped the Stygian pool; though long detain'd 
 In that obscure sojourn; while, in my flight, 
 Through utter and through middle darkness borne 
 With other notes, than to the Orphean lyre, 
 I sung of Chaos and eternal Night; 
 Taught, by the heavenly muse, to venture down 
 The dark descent, and up to re-ascend, 
 Though hard and rare. Thee I revisit safe. 
 
72 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 And feel thy sovereign vital lamp; but thou 
 Revisit'st not these eyes, that roll in vain 
 To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn; 
 So thick a drop serene hath quench'd their orbs, 
 Or dim suffusion veil'd. Yet not the more 
 Cease I to wander, where the muses haunt, 
 Clear spring, or shady grove, or sunny hill, 
 Smit with the love of sacred song: but chief 
 Thee, Sion, and the flowery brooks beneath, 
 That wash thy hallow'd feet and warbling flow, 
 Nightly I visit. Nor, sometimes, forget 
 Those other two, equall'd with me in fate, 
 So were I equall'd with them in renown, 
 Blind Thamyris, and blind M^onides; 
 And Tiresias, and Phineus, prophets old, 
 Then feed on thoughts, that voluntary move 
 Harmonious numbers; as the wakeful bird 
 Sings darkling, and, in shadiest covert hid, 
 Tunes her nocturnal note. Thus with the year 
 Seasons return; but not to me returns 
 Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, 
 Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, 
 Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine: 
 But cloud instead, and ever-during dark 
 Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men 
 Out off; and, for the book of knowledge fair, 
 Presented with a universal blank 
 Of Nature's works, to me expunged and rased ; 
 And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out. 
 So much the rather thou, celestial Light, 
 Shine inward, arid the mind through all her powers 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Irradiate; there plant eyes; all mist from thence 
 Purge and disperse, that I may see, and tell 
 Of things invisible to mortal sight. 
 
 Now had the Almighty Father from above, 
 From the pure empyrean, where he sits 
 High throned, above all height, bent down his eye, 
 His own works, and their works, at once to view. 
 About him all the Sanctities of Heaven 
 Stood thick as stars, and from his sight received 
 Beatitude past utterance: on his right 
 The radiant image of his glory sat, 
 His only Son. On earth he first beheld 
 Our two first parents, yet the only two 
 Of mankind, in the happy garden placed, 
 Reaping immortal fruits of joy and love; 
 Uninterrupted joy, unrivall'd love, 
 In blissful solitude. He then survey'd 
 Hell, and the gulf between, and Satan there, 
 Coasting the wall of Heaven, on this side Night, 
 In the dun air sublime; and ready now 
 To stoop, with wearied wings, and willing feet, 
 On the bare outside of this world, that seem'd 
 Firm land unbosomed, without firmament, 
 Uncertain which, in ocean or in air. 
 Him God beholding, from his prospect high, 
 Wherein past, present, future he beholds, 
 Thus to his only Son, foreseeing, spake: 
 
 " Only begotten Son ! seest thou what rage 
 Transports our adversary? whom no bounds 
 Prescribed, no bars of Hell, nor all the chains 
 Heap'd on him there, nor yet the main abyss, 
 
74 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Wide interrupt, can hold; so bent he seems 
 On desperate revenge, that shall redound 
 Upon his own rebellious head. And now, 
 Through all restraint broke loose, he wings his way 
 Not far off Heaven, in the precincts of light 
 Directly towards the new created world, 
 And Man there placed; with purpose to essay, 
 If him by force he can destroy, or, worse, 
 By some false guile pervert; and shall pervert : 
 For man will hearken to his glozing lies, 
 And easily transgress the sole command, 
 Sole pledge of his obedience; so will fall 
 He and his faithless progeny. Whose fault? 
 Whose, but his own? Ingrate! he had of me, 
 All he could have: I made him just and right, 
 Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall. 
 Such I created all the ethereal powers [failed; 
 And Spirits, both them who stood, and them who 
 Freely they stood who stood, and fell who fell. 
 Not free, what proof could they have given sincere 
 Of true allegiance, constant faith or love, 
 Where only what they needs must do appear' d, 
 Not what they would? what praise could they re- 
 What pleasure I from such obedience paid, [ceive? 
 When will and reason (reason also is choice) 
 Useless and vain, of freedom both despoiFd, 
 Made passive both, had served necessity, 
 Not me? They, therefore, as to right belong'd 
 So were created ; nor can justly accuse 
 Their Maker, or their making, or their fate, 
 As if predestination over- ruled 
 
PARADISE LOST. 75 
 
 Their will, disposed by absolute decree, 
 Or high foreknowledge. They themselves decreed 
 Their own revolt, not I ; if I foreknew, 
 Foreknowledge had no influence on their fault, 
 Which had no less proved certain, unforeknown. 
 So, without least impulse, or shadow of fate, 
 Or aught by me immutably foreseen, 
 They trespass; authors to themselves in all, 
 Both what they judge, and what they choose; for so 
 I form'd them free, and free they must remain, 
 Till they enthral themselves: I else must change 
 Their nature, and revoke the high decree 
 Unchangeable, eternal, which ordained 
 Their freedom : they themselves ordain'd their fall. 
 The first sort by their own suggestion fell, 
 Self-tempted, self-depraved. Man falls, deceived 
 By the other first; man therefore shall find grace, 
 The other none: in mercy and justice both, [eel; 
 Through Heaven and Earth, so shall my glory ex 
 But mercy, first and last, shall brightest shine." 
 
 Thus while God spake, ambrosial fragrance fill'd 
 All heaven; and in the blessed Spirits elect, 
 Sense of new joy ineffable diffused. 
 Beyond compare the Son of God was seen 
 Most glorious; in him all his Father shone, 
 Substantially expressed ; and in his face 
 Divine compassion visibly appeared, 
 Love without end, and without measure grace; 
 Which uttering thus, he to his Father spake: 
 
 "0 Father! gracious was that word, which closed 
 Thy sovereign sentence, that man should find grace, 
 
76 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 For which, both Heaven and Earth shall high extol 
 Thy praises, with the innumerable sound 
 Of hymns and sacred songs, wherewith thy throne, 
 Encompass'd, shall resound thee ever bless'd. 
 For should man finally be lost? should man, 
 Thy creature late so loved, thy youngest son, 
 Fall circumvented thus by fraud, though joined 
 With his own folly? That be from thee far ! 
 That far be from thee, Father, who art Judge 
 Of all things made, and judgest only right. 
 Or, shall the adversary thus obtain 
 His end, and frustrate thine? shall he fulfil 
 His malice, and thy goodness bring to nought? 
 Or proud return, though to his heavier doom, 
 Yet with revenge accomplished, and to Hell 
 Draw after him the whole race of mankind, 
 By him corrupted? or wilt thou thyself 
 Abolish thy creation, and unmake 
 For him, what for thy glory thou hast made? 
 So should thy goodness, and thy greatness, both 
 Be ques^ion'd, and blasphemed, without defence." 
 
 To whom the great Creator thus replied : 
 " Son, in whom my soul hath chief delight! 
 Son of my bosom ! Son, who art alone 
 My word, my wisdom, and effectual might ! 
 All hast thou spoken, as my thoughts are; all 
 As my eternal purpose hath decreed : 
 Man shall not quite be lost, but saved who will: 
 Yet not of will in him, but grace in me, 
 Freely vouchsafed. Once more I will renew 
 His 1? psed powers, though forfeit, and enthrall'd 
 
PARADISE LOST. 7? 
 
 By sin, to foul exorbitant desires: 
 
 Upheld by rne, yet once more he shall stand, 
 
 On even ground, against his mortal foe; 
 
 By me upheld, that he may know how frail 
 
 His fallen condition is, and to me owe 
 
 All his deliverance, and to none but me. 
 
 Some I have chosen of peculiar grace, 
 
 Elect above the rest; so is my will: 
 
 The rest shall hear me call, and oft be warn'd 
 
 Their sinful state; and to appease betimes 
 
 The incensed Deity, while offer' d grace 
 
 Invites: for I will clear their senses dark, 
 
 What may suffice, and soften stony hearts 
 
 To pray, repent, and bring obedience due. 
 
 To prayer, repentance, and obedience due, 
 
 Though but endeavour'd with sincere intent, 
 
 Mine ear shall not be slow, mine eye not shuf, 
 
 And I will place within them, as a guide, 
 
 My umpire, Conscience; whom if they will hear, 
 
 Light after light, well used, they shall attain; 
 
 And to the end persisting, safe arrive. 
 
 This, my long sufferance, and my day of grace, 
 
 They who neglect and scorn, shall never taste: 
 
 But hard be harden'd, blind be blinded more, 
 
 That they may stumble on, and deeper fall; 
 
 And none but such from mercy I exclude. 
 
 But yet all is not done: man disobeying, 
 
 Disloyal, breaks his fealty, and sins 
 
 Against the high supremacy of Heaven, 
 
 Affecting Godhead, and, so losing all, 
 
 To expiate his treason hath nought left, 
 
78 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 But to destruction sacred and devote, 
 
 He, with his whole posterity, must die; 
 
 Die, he or justice must: unless for him, 
 
 Some other, able, and as willing, pay 
 
 The rigid satisfaction, death for death. 
 
 Say, Heavenly Powers, where shall we find such 
 
 Which of ye will be mortal, to redeem [love? 
 
 Man's mortal crime, and just, the unjust to save? 
 
 Dwells in all Heaven charity so dear?" 
 
 He ask'd; but all the heavenly quire stood mute, 
 
 And silence was in heaven: on man's behalf, 
 
 Patron or intercessor, none appear'd; 
 
 Much less that durst upon his own head draw 
 
 The deadly forfeiture, and ransom set. 
 
 And now, without redemption, all mankind 
 
 Must have been lost, adjudged to death and hell 
 
 By doom severe, had not the Son of God, 
 
 In whom the fulness dwells of love divine, 
 
 His dearest mediation thus renew'd: 
 
 " Father! thy word is pass'd, man shall find grace, 
 And shall grace not find means, that finds her way 
 The speediest of thy winged messengers, 
 To visit all thy creatures, and to all 
 Comes unprevented, unimplored, unsought ? 
 Happy for man, so coming; he her aid 
 Can never seek, once dead in sins and lost: 
 Atonement for himself, or offering meet, 
 Indebted and undone, hath none to bring: 
 Behold ME then; me for him, life for life 
 I offer; on me let thine anger fall: 
 Account me man; I, for his sake, will leave 
 
PARADISE LOST. 79 
 
 Thy bosom; and this glory next to thee, 
 Freely put off; and for him lastly die, 
 Well pleased. On me let Death wreak all his rage; 
 Under his gloomy power I shall not long 
 Lie vanquish'd; thou hast given me to possess 
 Life in myself for ever; by thee I live, 
 Though now to Death I yield, and am his due, 
 All that of me can die: yet that debt paid, 
 Thou wilt not leave me in the loathsome grave, 
 His prey, nor suffer my unspotted soul, 
 For ever with corruption, there to dwell; 
 But I shall rise victorious, and subdue 
 My vanquisher, spoil'd of his vaunted spoil. 
 Death his death's wound shall then receive, and 
 Inglorious, of his mortal sting disarm'd. [stoop 
 I, through the ample air, in triumph high, 
 Shall lead Hell captive, maugre Hell, and show 
 The Powers of darkness bound. Thou, at the sight 
 Pleased, out of Heaven shalt look down and smile; 
 While, by thee raised, I ruin all my foes, 
 Death last, and with his carcass glut the grave: 
 Then, with the multitude of my redeem'd, 
 Shall enter Heaven, long absent, and return, - 
 Father! to see thy face, wherein no cloud 
 Of anger shall remain, but peace assured, 
 And reconcilement: wrath shall be no more 
 Thenceforth, but in thy presence joy entire." 
 His words here ended ; but his meek aspect 
 Silent yet spake, and breathed immortal love 
 To mortal men; above which only shone 
 Filial obedience. As a sacrifice 
 
80 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Glad to be offer'd, lie attends the will 
 Of his great Father. Admiration seized [tend, 
 All Heaven; what this might mean, and whither 
 Wondering: but soon the Almighty thus replied: 
 " thou, in Heaven and Earth the only peace 
 Found out for mankind, under wrath ! thou, 
 My sole complacence ! well thou know'st how dear 
 To me are all my works, nor man the least, 
 Though last created; that for him I spare 
 Thee from my bosom and right hand, to save, 
 By losing thee a while, the whole race lost. 
 Thou, therefore, whom thou only canst redeem, 
 Their nature also to thy nature join; 
 And be thyself man, among men on earth, 
 Made flesh, when time shall be, of virgin seed, 
 By wondrous birth. Be thou, in Adam's room, 
 The head of all mankind, though Adam's son. 
 As in him perish all men, so in thee, 
 As from a second root, shall be restored 
 As many as are restored; without thee, none. 
 His crime makes guilty all his sons; thy merit 
 Imputed shall absolve them, who renounce 
 Their own both righteous and unrighteous deeds, 
 And live in thee transplanted, and from thee 
 Receive new life. So man, as is most just, 
 Shall satisfy for man, be judged and die; 
 And dying rise, and, rising, with him raise 
 His brethren, ransom'd with his own dear life. 
 So heavenly love shall outdo hellish hate, 
 Giving to death, and dying to redeem; 
 So dearly to redeem, what hellish hate 
 
PARADISE LOST. 81 
 
 So easily destroyed, and still destroys 
 
 In those who, when they may, accept not grace. 
 
 Nor shalt thou, by descending to assume 
 
 Man's nature, lessen or degrade thine own, 
 
 Because thou hast, though throned in highest bliss, 
 
 Equal to God, and equally enjoying 
 
 Godlike fruition, quitted all, to save 
 
 A world from utter loss, and hast been found. 
 
 By merit more than birthright, Son of God; 
 
 Found worthiest to be so, by being good, 
 
 Far more than great or high: because in thee 
 
 Love hath abounded more than glory abounds, 
 
 Therefore, thy humiliation shall exalt, 
 
 With thee thy manhood, also to this throne. 
 
 Here shalt thou sit incarnate, here shalt reign, 
 
 Both God and Man, Son both of God and Man, 
 
 Anointed universal King. All power 
 
 1 give thee; reign for ever, and assume 
 
 Thy merits: under thee, as head supreme, 
 
 Thrones, princedoms, powers, dominions, I reduce: 
 
 All knees to thee shall bow, of them that bide 
 
 In Heaven or Earth, or under Earth in Hell. 
 
 When thou, attended gloriously, from Heaven, 
 
 Shalt in the sky appear, and from thee send 
 
 The summoning Arch-angels to proclaim 
 
 Thy dread tribunal; forthwith, from all winds, 
 
 The living, and forthwith, the cited dead, 
 
 Of all past ages, to the general doom 
 
 Shall hasten , such a peal shall rouse their sleep. 
 
 Then all thy saints assembled, thou shalt judge 
 
 Bad men and Angels; they arraigned shall sink 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Beneath thy sentence; Hell, her numbers full, 
 Thenceforth shall be for ever shut. Meanwhile * 
 The world shall burn, and from her ashes spring- 
 New heaven and earth; wherein the just shall 
 And, after all their tribulations long, [dwell, 
 
 See golden days, fruitful of golden deeds, 
 With joy and love triumphing, and fair truth. 
 Then thou thy regal sceptre shalt lay by, 
 For regal sceptre then no more shall need, 
 God shall be all in all. But all ye Gods, 
 Adore him, who to compass all this dies; 
 Adore the Son, and honour him as me." 
 
 No sooner had the Almighty ceased, but all 
 The multitude of Angels, with a shout, 
 Loud, as from numbers without number, sweet, 
 As from bless'd voices, uttering joy; Heaven rung 
 With jubilee, and loud hosannahs fill'd 
 The eternal regions: lowly reverent, 
 Towards either throne they bow, and to the 
 With solemn adoration, down they cast [ground, 
 Their crowns, inwove with amaranth and gold 
 Immortal amaranth, a flower, which once 
 In Paradise, fast by the tree of life, 
 Began to bloom; but soon, for man's^offence, 
 To Heaven removed, where first it grew; there 
 And flowers aloft, shading the fount of life, [grows, 
 And where the river of bliss, through midst of 
 
 Heaven, 
 
 Rolls o'er Elysian flowers her amber stream; 
 With these, that never fade, the Spirits elect 
 Bind their resplendent locks, in wreathed with beams, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 83 
 
 Now in loose garlands, thick thrown off, the bright 
 Pavement, that like a sea of jasper shone, 
 Impurpled with celestial roses, smiled. 
 Then, crown'd again, their golden harps they took, 
 Harps ever tuned, that, glittering by their side, 
 Like quivers hung, and with preamble sweet 
 Of charming symphony, they introduce 
 Their sacred song, and waken raptures high: 
 No voice exempt, no voice but well could join 
 Melodious part; such concord is in Heaven. 
 
 "Thee, Father," first they sung, "omnipotent! 
 Immutable, immortal, infinite, 
 Eternal King! Thee, Author of all being, 
 Fountain of light, thyself invisible, 
 Amidst the glorious brightness, where thou sitt'st 
 Throned inaccessible; but when thou shadest 
 The full blaze of thy beams, and through a cloud 
 Drawn round about thee, like a radiant shrine, 
 Dark with excessive bright, thy skirts appear; 
 Yet dazzle Heaven, that brightest Seraphim 
 Approach not, but with both wings veil their eyes.' 1 
 " Thee," next they sang, " of all creation first, 
 Begotten Son, divine similitude; 
 In whose conspicuous countenance, without cloud 
 Made visible, the Almighty Father shines, 
 Whom else no creature can benold: on thee 
 Impress'd, the effulgence of his glory abides; 
 Transfused on thee, his ample Spirit rests. 
 He Heaven of Heavens, and all the powers therein. 
 By thee created, and by thee, threw down 
 The aspiring dominations: thou, that day, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Thy Father's dreadful thunder didst not spare, 
 Xor stop thy flaming chariot-wheels, that shook 
 Heaven's everlasting frame; while o'er the necks 
 Thou drovest of warring Angels disarrayed. 
 Back from pursuit, thy powers, with loud acclaim. 
 Thee only extolled, Son of thy Father's might, 
 To execute fierce vengeance on his foes: 
 Not so on man: him, through their malice fall'n, 
 Father of mercy and grace, thou didst not doom 
 So striotly, but much more to pity incline. 
 No sooner did thy dear and only Son 
 Perceive thee purposed, not to doom frail man 
 So strictly, but much more to pity inclined, 
 He, to appease thy wrath, and end the strife 
 Of mercy and justice, in thy face discern'd. 
 Regardless of the bliss wherein he sat, 
 Second to thee, offerd himself to die 
 For man's offence. unexampled love! 
 Love no where to be found, less than divine! 
 Hail, Son of God ! Saviour of men ! Thy name 
 Shall be the copious matter of my song, 
 Henceforth, and never shall my harp thy praise 
 Forget, nor from thy Father's praise disjoin." 
 
 Thus they in Heaven, above the starry sphere 
 Their happy hours in joy and hymning spent. 
 Meanwhile, upon the firm opacous globe 
 Of this round world, whose first convex divides 
 The luminous inferior orbs, enclosed 
 From Chaos, and the inroad of darkness old, 
 Satan alighted walks. A globe far off 
 It seem'd, now seems a boundless continent, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Dark, waste, and wild, under the frown of 
 
 Starless exposed, and ever-threatening storms 
 
 Of Chaos blustering round, inclement sky; 
 
 Save on that side, which from the wall of Heaven, 
 
 Though distant far, some small reflection gains 
 
 Of glimmering air, less vex'd with tempest loud : 
 
 Here walk'd the fiend at large in spacious field. 
 
 As when a vulture, on Tmaus bred, 
 
 Whose snowy ridge the roving Tartar bounds, 
 
 Dislodging from a region scarce of prey, 
 
 To gorge the flesh of lambs, or yeanling kids. 
 
 On hills, where flocks are fed, flies toward the 
 
 Of Ganges, or Hydaspes, Indian streams: [springs 
 
 But in his way, lights on the barren plains 
 
 Of Sericana, where Chineses drive, 
 
 With sails and wind, their cany waggons light: 
 
 So, on this windy sea of land, the fiend 
 
 Walk'd up and down, alone, bent on his prey: 
 
 Alone, for other creature in this place, 
 
 Living or lifeless, to be found was none; 
 
 None yet, but store hereafter, from the earth. 
 
 Up hither, like aerial vapours, flew, 
 
 Of all things transitory and vain, when sin 
 
 With vanity had filled the works of men: 
 
 Both all things vain, and all who on vain things 
 
 Built their fond hopes of glory, or lasting fame, 
 
 Or happiness in this, or the other life: 
 
 All, who have their reward on earth, the fruits 
 
 Of painful superstition, and blind zeal, 
 
 Nought seeking but the praise of men, here find 
 
 Fit retribution, empty as their deeds: 
 
85 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 All the unaccomplisli'd works of Nature's hand, 
 Abortive, monstrous, or unkindly mix'd, 
 Dissolv'd on earth, fleet hither, and in vain, 
 Till final dissolution, wander here; [dream'd; 
 
 Not in the neighbouring moon, as some have 
 Those argent fields, more likely habitants, 
 Translated saints, or middle spirits hold, 
 Betwixt the angelical and human kind. 
 Hither, of ill-join'd sons and daughters born, 
 First from the ancient world, those giants came, 
 With many a vain exploit, though then renown'd: 
 The builders next of Babel, on the plain 
 Of Sennaar; and still with vain design, 
 New Babels, had they wherewithal, would build. 
 Others came single; he who. to be deem'd 
 A god, leap'd fondly into -ZEtna flames, 
 Empedocles; and he who, to enjoy 
 Plato's Elysium, leap'd into the sea, 
 Cleombrotus; and many more too long, 
 Embryos, and idiots, eremites, and friars, 
 White, black, and grey, with all their trumpery. 
 Here pilgrims roam, that stray'd so far to seek, 
 In Golgotha, him dead, who lives in Heaven: 
 And they who, to be sure of Paradise, 
 Dying, put on the weeds of Dominic, 
 Or in Franciscan think to pass disguised. 
 They pass'd the planets seven, and pass the fix'd, 
 And that crystalline sphere, whose balance weighs 
 The trepidation talk'd, and that first moved: 
 And now Saint Peter, at Heaven's wicket, seems 
 To wait them with his keys; and now at foot 
 
PARADISE LOST. 87 
 
 Of Heaven's ascent, they lift their feet, when lo, 
 A violent cross wind, from either coast, 
 Blows them transverse, ten thousand leagues awry, 
 Into the devious air: then might ye see 
 Cowls, hoods, and habits, with their wearers, toss'd 
 And flutter'd into rags; then reliques, beads, 
 Indulgences, dispenses, pardons, bulls, 
 The sport of winds: all these, upwhirl'd aloft, 
 Fly o'er the back side of the world, far off, 
 Into a limbo, large and broad, since call'd 
 The Paradise of Fools, to few unknown 
 Long after, now unpeopled, and untrod 
 All this dark globe the Fiend found as he passed; 
 And long he wander'd, till at last, a gleam 
 Of dawning light turn'd thither-ward in haste 
 His travell'd steps: far distant he descries, 
 Ascending by degrees magnificent 
 Up to the wall of Heaven, a structure high: 
 At top whereof, but far more rich, appear'd 
 The work, as of a kingly palace-gate, 
 With frontispiece of diamond and gold 
 Embellish'd; thick with sparkling orient gems 
 The portal shone, inimitable on earth, 
 By model, or by shading pencil drawn. 
 The stairs were such, as whereon Jacob saw- 
 Angels ascending and descending, bands 
 Of guardians bright; when he from Esau fled 
 To Padan-Aram, in the field of Luz 
 Dreaming by night, under the open sky, 
 And waking cried, " This is the gate of Heaven 1" 
 Each stair mysteriously was meant, nor stood 
 
 I 
 
88 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 There always, but drawn up to Heaven, sometimes s 
 
 Viewless; and underneath, a bright sea flow'd 
 
 Of jasper, or of liquid pearl, whereon, 
 
 Who after came from earth, sailing arrived 
 
 Wafted by Angels, or flew o'er the lake, 
 
 Rapt in a chariot drawn by fiery steeds. 
 
 The stairs were then let down, whether to dare 
 
 The fiend by easy ascent, or aggravate 
 
 His sad excursion from the doors of bliss: 
 
 Direct against which, open'd from beneath, 
 
 Just o'er the blissful seat of Paradise, 
 
 A passage down to the earth, a passage wide; 
 
 Wider by far than that of after- times, 
 
 Over Mount Sion, and, though that were large, 
 
 Over the Promised Land, to God so dear: 
 
 By which, to visit oft those happy tribes, 
 
 On high behests, his Angels to and fro 
 
 Pass'd frequent, and his eye with choice regard 
 
 From Paneas, the fount of Jordan's flood, 
 
 To Beersaba, where the* Holy Land 
 
 Borders on Egypt, and the Arabian shore; 
 
 So wide the opening seem'd, where bounds were set 
 
 To darkness, such as bound the ocean-wave. 
 
 Satan from hence, now on the lower stair, 
 
 That scaled by steps of gold to Heaven-gate, 
 
 Looks down with wonder, at the sudden view 
 
 Of all this world at once. As when a scout, 
 
 Through dark and desert ways, with peril gone 
 
 All night, at last by break of cheerful dawn, 
 
 Obtains the brow of some high-climbing hill, 
 
 Which to his eye discovers unaware, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 The goodly prospect of some foreign land 
 
 First seen; or some renown'd metropolis, 
 
 With glistering spires and pinnacles adorn'd, 
 
 Which now the rising sun gilds with his beams. 
 
 Such wonder seized, though after heaven seen, 
 
 The spirit malign; but much more envy seize 
 
 At sight of all this world beheld so fair. 
 
 Round he surveys; and well might, where he stood 
 
 So high, above the circling canopy 
 
 Of night's extended shade; from eastern point 
 
 Of Libra, to the fleecy star that bears 
 
 Andromeda far off Atlantic seas, 
 
 Beyond the horizon. Then from pole to pole, 
 
 He views in breadth; and, without longer pause 
 
 Down right into the world's first region, throws 
 
 His flight precipitant; and winds with ease, 
 
 Through the pure marble air, his oblique way, 
 
 Amongst innumerable stars, that shone 
 
 Stars distant, but nigh hand, seem'd other worlds; 
 
 Or other worlds they seem'd, or happy isles, 
 
 Like those Hesperian gardens, famed of old, 
 
 Fortunate fields, and groves, and flowery vales, 
 
 Thrice happy isles: but who dwelt happy there, 
 
 He staid not to inquire: above them all 
 
 The golden sun, in splendour likest Heaven, 
 
 Allured his eye: thither his course he bends, 
 
 Through the calm firmament; but up or down, 
 
 By centre or eccentric, hard to tell, 
 
 Or longitude; where the great luminary, 
 
 Aloof the vulgar constellations thick, 
 
 That from his lordly eye keep distance due. 
 
90 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Dispenses light from far: they, as they move 
 Their starry dance in numbers that compute [lamp 
 Days, months, and years, towards his all-cheering 
 Turn swift their various motions, or are turn'd 
 By his magnetic beam, that gently warms 
 The universe, and to each inward part, 
 With gentle penetration, though unseen, 
 Shoots invisible virtue, even to the deep: 
 So wondrously was set his station bright. 
 There lands the fiend, a spot like which, perhaps. 
 Astronomer in the sun's lucent orb, 
 Through his glazed optic tube, yet never saw. 
 The place he found beyond expression bright, 
 Compared with aught on earth, metal or stone: 
 Not all parts like, but all alike inform'd, 
 With radiant light, as glowing iron with fire; 
 If metal, part seem'd gold, part silver clear; 
 If stone, carbuncle most or chrysolite, 
 Ruby or topaz, to the twelve that shone 
 In Aaron's breast-plate, and a stone besides, 
 Imagined rather oft, than elsewhere seen; 
 That stone, or like to that, which here below 
 Philosophers in vain so long have sought; 
 In vain, though by their powerful art, they bind 
 Volatile Hermes, and call up unbound, 
 In various shapes, old Proteus from the sea, 
 Drain' d through a limbec to his native form. 
 What wonder then, if fields and regions here 
 Breathe forth elixir pure, and rivers run 
 Potable gold, when, with one virtuous touch, 
 The arch-chemic sun, so far from us remote, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 91 
 
 Produces, with terrestrial humour mix'd, 
 Here in the dark, so many precious things, 
 Of colour glorious, and effect so rare ? 
 Here, matter new to gaze the Devil met, 
 Undazzled: far and wide his eye commands; 
 For sight no obstacle found here, nor shade, 
 But all sunshine: as when his beams at noon 
 Culminate from the equator; as they now 
 Shot upward, still direct, whence no way round, 
 Shadow from body opaque can fall; and the air 
 Nowhere so clear, sharpen'd his visual ray, 
 To objects distant far; whereby he soon 
 Saw within ken, a glorious angel stand, 
 The same, whom John saw also in the sun. 
 His back was turn'd, but not his brightness hid: 
 Of beaming sunny rays, a golden tiar 
 Circled his head; nor less his locks behind, 
 Illustrious on his shoulders, fledge with wings, 
 Lay waving round: on some great charge employed 
 He seem'd, or fix'd in cogitation deep. 
 Glad was the Spirit impure; as now in hope 
 To find, who might direct his wandering flight 
 To Paradise, the happy seat of man, 
 His journey's end, and our beginning woe. 
 But first he casts to change his proper shape, 
 Which else might work him danger or delay: 
 And now, a stripling-cherub he appears, 
 Not of the prime, yet such, as in his face 
 Youth smiled celestial, and, to every limb, 
 Suitable grace diffused; so well hefeign'd. 
 Under a coronet, his flowing hair, 
 
92 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 In curls on either cheek, play'd; wings he wore, 
 Of many a coloured plume, sprinkled with gold; 
 His habit fit for speed succinct, and held 
 Before his decent steps, a silver wand. 
 He drew not nigh unheard; the angel bright, 
 Ere he drew nigh, his radiant visage turn'd, 
 Admonish'd by his ear; and straight was known 
 The arch-angel Uriel, one of the seven 
 Who in God's presence, nearest to his throne, 
 Stand ready at command; and are his eyes, 
 That run through all the Heavens, or down to the 
 Bear his swift errands, over moist and dry, [Earth 
 O'er sea and land: him Satan thus accosts. 
 
 " Uriel, for thou, of those seven Spirits that stand 
 In sight of God's high throne, gloriously bright, 
 The first, art wont his great authentic will, 
 Interpreter through highest Heaven, to bring, 
 Where all his sons thy embassy attend; 
 And here art likeliest, by supreme decree, 
 Like honour to obtain, and, as his eye, 
 To visit oft this new creation round. 
 Unspeakable desire to see and know 
 All these his wondrous works, but chiefly man, 
 His chief delight and favour, him for whom 
 All these his works so wondrous he ordain'd, 
 Hath brought me from the quires of cherubim, 
 Alone, thus wandering. Brightest seraph, tell, 
 In which of all these shining orbs hath man 
 His fixed seat, or fixed seat hath none, 
 But all these shining orbs his choice to dwell: 
 That I may find him, and with secret gaze, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 93 
 
 Or open admiration, him behold, 
 
 On whom the great Creator hath bestow' d 
 
 Worlds, and on whom hath all these graces pour'd: 
 
 That both in him, and all things, as is meet, 
 
 The universal Maker we may praise; 
 
 Who justly hath driven out his rebel foes, 
 
 To deepest Hell; and, to repair that loss, 
 
 Created this new happy race of men, 
 
 To serve him better: wise are all his ways I" 
 
 So spake the false dissembler unperceived; 
 For neither man nor angel can discern 
 Hypocrisy, the only evil that walks 
 Invisible, except to God alone, 
 By his permissive will, through heaven and earth: 
 And oft, though wisdom wake, suspicion sleeps 
 At wisdom's gate, and to simplicity 
 Resigns her charge, while goodness thinks no ill, 
 Where no ill seems : which now, for once, beguiled 
 Uriel, though regent of the sun, and held 
 The sharpest-sighted Spirit of all in Heaven; 
 Who, to the fraudulent impostor foul, 
 In his uprightness, answer thus return'd: 
 
 " Fair angel ! thy desire, which tends to know 
 The works of God, thereby to glorify 
 The great Work-Master, leads to no excess 
 That reaches blame, but rather merits praise, 
 The more it seems excess, that led thee hither, 
 From thy empyreal mansion, thus alone; 
 To witness with thine eyes, what some perhaps, 
 Contented with report, hear only in Heaven: 
 For wonderful indeed are all his works, 
 
94 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Pleasant to know, and worthiest to be all 
 Had in remembrance, always with delight. 
 But what created mind can comprehend 
 Their number, or the wisdom infinite 
 That brought them forth, but hid their causes deep? 
 I saw, when at his word the formless mass, 
 This world's material mould, came to a heap: 
 Confusion heard his voice, and wild uproar 
 Stood ruled; stood vast infinitude confined: 
 Till, at his second bidding, darkness fled, 
 Light shone, and order from disorder sprung. 
 Swift, to their several quarters, hasted then 
 The cumbrous elements, earth, flood, air, fire; 
 And this etherial quintessence of Heaven 
 Flew upward, spirited with various forms, 
 That roll'd orbicular, and turn'd to stars 
 Numberless, as thou seest, and how they move; 
 Each had his place appointed, each his course: 
 The rest in circuit walls this universe. 
 Look downward on that globe, whose hither side, 
 With light from hence, though but reflected, shines; 
 That place is Earth, the seat of man; that light 
 His day; which else, as the other hemisphere, 
 Night would invade: but there the neighbouring 
 So call that opposite fair star, her aid [moon, 
 Timely interposes; and her monthly round 
 Still ending, still renewing through mid heaven, 
 With borrowed light her countenance triform 
 Hence fills and empties to enlighten the earth; 
 And, in her pale dominion, checks the night. 
 That spot, to which I point, is Paradise, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 95 
 
 Adam's abode; those lofty shades, his bower. 
 Thy way thou canst not miss, me mine requires." 
 Thus said, he turn'd; and Satan, bowing low, 
 As to superior spirits is wont in Heaven, 
 Where honour due and reverence none neglects, 
 Took leave; and, toward the coast of earth beneath, 
 Down from the ecliptic, sped with hoped success, 
 Throws his steep flight in many an airy wheel, 
 Nor staid, till on Niphates' top he lights. 
 
 END OF BOOK III. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Satan, now in prospect of Eden, and nigh the place where he 
 must now attempt the bold enterprise which he undertook alone 
 against God and man, falls into many doubts with himself, 
 and many passions, fear, envy, and despair: but at length 
 confirms himself in evil, journeys on to Paradise, whose 
 outward prospect and situation are described; overleaps the 
 bounds; sits in the shape of a cormorant on the Tree of Life, 
 as the highest in the garden, to look about him. The garden 
 described: Satan's first sight of Adam and Eve; his wonder 
 at their excellent form and happy state, but with resolution 
 to work their fall; overhears their discourse, thence gathers 
 that the Tree of Knowledge was forbidden them to eat of, under 
 penalty of death; and thereon intends to found his tempta- 
 tion b>/ seducing them to transgress: then leaves them a while 
 to kiiow farther of their state by some other means. Mean- 
 while Uriel, descending on a sunbeam, warns Gabriel, who 
 had in charge the gate of Paradise, that some evil spirit had 
 escaped the deep, and passed at noon by his sphere, in the 
 shape of a good angel down to Paradise, discovered after- 
 wards by his furious gestures on the mount. Gabriel promises 
 to find him ere morning. Night coming o n, A dam ahd Eoe 
 discourse of going to their rest; their bower described; thtir 
 evening worship. Gabriel, drawing f orth hi* bands of night- 
 watch to walk the rounds of Paradise, appoints two strong 
 angels to Adam's bower, lest the evil spirit should be there 
 doing some harm to Adam or Eve sleeping; there they find 
 hiti at the ear of Eve, tempting her in a dream, and briny 
 him, though unwilling, to Gabriel; by whom questioned, he 
 scornfully answers; prepares resistance: but, hindered by a 
 $i-jtifro)n heaven, fiies out of Paradise. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 FOR that warning voice, which he, who saw 
 The Apocalypse, heard cry in Heaven aloud; 
 Then when the Dragon, put to second rout, 
 Came furious down, to be revenged on men, 
 "Woe to the inhabitants on earth !" that now, 
 While time was, our first parents had been warn'd 
 The coming of their secret foe, and 'scaped 
 Haply so 'scaped his mortal snare. For now 
 Satan, now first inflamed with rage, came down, 
 The tempter ere the accuser of mankind, 
 To wreak on innocent frail man, his loss 
 Of that first battle, and his flight to Hell: 
 Yet, not rejoicing in his speed, though bold, 
 Far off and fearless, nor with cause to boast, 
 Begins his dire attempt; which, nigh the birth, 
 Now rolling, boils in his tumultuous breast, 
 And, like a devilish engine* back recoils 
 Upon himself. Horror and doubt distract 
 His troubled thoughts, and from the bottom, stir 
 The hell within him; for within him hell 
 He brings, and round about him, nor from Hell 
 
i! 100 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 One step, no more than from himself, can fly 
 By change of place. Now conscience wakes despair 
 That slumber'd, wakes the bitter memory 
 Of what he was, what is, and what must be, 
 Worse; of worse deeds, worse sufferings must ensue. 
 Sometimes towards Eden, which now in his view 
 Lay pleasant, his grieved look he fixes sad; 
 Sometimes towards Heaven, and the full-blazing 
 Which now sat high in his meridian tower: [sun, 
 Then, much revolving, thus in sighs began. 
 
 "0 thou! that, with surpassing glory crownYi, 
 Look'st from thy sole dominion, like the God 
 Of this new world; at whose sight all the stars 
 Hide their diminish'd heads; to thee I call, 
 But with no friendly voice, and add thy name, 
 
 Sun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams, 
 That bring to my remembrance from what state 
 
 1 fell, how glorious once above thy sphere; 
 
 Till pride and, worse, ambition, threw me dowii, 
 Warring in Heaven, against Heaven's matchless 
 Ah! wherefore? he deserved no such return [King! 
 From me, whom he created what I was, 
 In that bright eminence, and with his good 
 Upbraided none; nor was his service hard. 
 What could be less than to afford him praise, 
 The easiest recompense, and pay him thanks? 
 How due ! yet all his good proved ill in me, 
 And wrought but malice: lifted up so high 
 I 'sdain'd subjection, and thought one step higher 
 Would set me highest, and, in a moment, quit 
 The debt immense of endless gratitude. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 103 
 
 So burdensome, still paying, still to owe; 
 
 Forgetful what from him I still received; 
 
 And understood not, that a grateful mind 
 
 By owing owes not, but still pays, at once 
 
 Indebted and discharged: what burden then? 
 
 had his powerful destiny ordain'd 
 
 Me some inferior angel, I had stood 
 
 Then happy; no unbounded hope had raised 
 
 Ambition. Yet why not? some other power 
 
 As great might have aspir'd, and me, though mean, 
 
 Drawn to his part: but other powers as great 
 
 Fell not, but stand unshaken, from within, 
 
 Or from without, to all temptations arm'd. 
 
 Had'st thou the same free will and power to stand) 
 
 Thou had'st: whom hast thou then, or wliifr to accuse, 
 
 But Heaven's free love, dealt equally to all? ' 
 
 Be then his love accursed, since love ov ha to. 
 
 To me alike, it deals eternal woe. 
 
 ]S"ay, cursed be thou; since, against his, thy will 
 
 Chose freely, what it now so justly rues. 
 
 Me miserable ! which way shall I fly 
 
 Infinite wrath, and infinite despair 1 ? 
 
 Which way I fly is Hell; myself am Hell: 
 
 And in the lowest deep, a lower deep, 
 
 Still threatening to devour me, opens wide; 
 
 To which the Hell I suffer seems a Heaven ! 
 
 then at last relent: is there no place 
 
 Left for repentance, none for pardon left 1 ? 
 
 None left but by submission; and that word 
 
 Disdain forbids me, and my dread of shame, 
 
 Among the spirits beneath, whom I seduced, 
 
 
100 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 With other promises, and other vaunts. 
 Than to submit; boasting, I could subdue 
 The Omnipotent. Ah me! they little know, 
 How dearly I abide that boast so vain. 
 Under what torments inwardly I groan. 
 While they adore me on the throne of Hell. 
 With diadem and sceptre high advanced, 
 The lower still I fall, only supreme 
 In misery; such joy ambition finds! 
 But say. I could repent, and could obtain, 
 By act of grace, my former state; how soon 
 Would height recall high thoughts, how soon unsay 
 What feign'd submission swore? Ease would recant 
 Vows made in pain, as violent and void: 
 For; never can true reconcilement grow 
 Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep; 
 Which would but lead me to a worse relapse, 
 Arid heavier fall: so should I purchase dear 
 Short intermission, bought with double smart. 
 This knows my punisher, therefore, as far 
 From granting he, as I from begging peace: 
 All hope excluded thus, beheld, instead 
 Of us out-cast, exiled, his new delight, 
 Mankind created; and for him this world. 
 So farewell hope, and with hope, farewell fear, 
 Farewell remorse: all good to me is lost: 
 Evil, be thou my good; by thee, at least, 
 Divided empire with Heaven's King I hold; 
 By thee, and more than half perhaps will reign ; 
 As man ere long, and this new world, shall know. 
 Thus while he spake, each passion dimm'd his face. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 103 
 
 Thrice changed with pale ire, envj, and despair; 
 
 Which marr'd his borrow'd visage, and betray'd 
 
 Him counterfeit, if any eye beheld: 
 
 For heavenly minds from such distempers foul, 
 
 Are ever clear. Whereof he soon aware. 
 
 Each perturbation smooth'd, with outward calm, 
 
 Artificer of fraud; and was the first 
 
 That practised falsehood, under saintly show, 
 
 Deep malice to conceal, couch'd with revenge: 
 
 Yet, not enough had practised to deceive 
 
 Uriel, once warn'd; whose eye pursued him down, 
 
 The way he went, and on the Assyrian Mount 
 
 Saw him disfigured, more than could befall 
 
 Spirit of happy sort: his gestures fierce 
 
 He mark'd, and mad demeanour, then alone 
 
 As he supposed, all unobserved, unseen. 
 
 So on he fares, and to the border comes 
 
 Of Eden, where delicious Paradise, 
 
 Now nearer, crowns with her inclosure green, 
 
 As with a rural mound, the champaign head 
 
 Of a steep wilderness, whose hairy sides, 
 
 With thicket overgrown, grotesque and wild, 
 
 Access denied; and over-head, up grew 
 
 Insuperable height of loftiest shade, 
 
 Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching palm, 
 
 A sylvan scene; and, as the ranks ascend 
 
 Shade above shade, a woody theatre 
 
 Of stateliest view. Yet higher than their tops, 
 
 The verdurous wall of Paradise up sprung; 
 
 Which, to our general sire, gave prospect large, 
 
 Into his nether empire, neighbouring round 
 
104 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 And, higher than that wall, a circling row 
 Of goodliest trees, loaden with fairest fruit, 
 Blossoms and fruits at once, of golden hue, 
 Appear'd, with gay enamell'd colours mix'd; 
 On which the sun more glad impress'd his beams, 
 Than on fair evening cloud, or humid bow, 
 When God hath shower'd the earth; so lovely seem'd 
 That landscape: and of pure, now purer air, 
 Meets his approach, and to the heart inspires 
 Vernal delight and joy, able to drive 
 All sadness but despair. Now gentle gales, 
 Fanning their odoriferous wings, dispense 
 Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stole 
 Those balmy spoils. As when to them, who sail 
 Beyond the Cape of Hope, and now are past 
 Mozambic, off at eea, north-east winds blow 
 Sabean odours, from the spicy shore 
 Of Araby the bless'd; with such delay [league, 
 Well pleased, they slack their course, and many a 
 Cheer'd with the grateful smell, old Ocean smiles. 
 So entertain'd those odorous sweets the fiend 
 Who came their bane; though with them better 
 Than Asmodeus with the fishy fume, [pleased 
 That drove him, tho' enamour'd, from the spouse 
 Of Tobit's son, and with a vengeance sent 
 From Media, post to Egypt, there fast bound. 
 Now, to the ascent of that steep savage hill, 
 Satan had journey'd on, pensive and slow; 
 But further way found none; so thick entwined, 
 As one continued brake, the undergrowth 
 Of shrubs and tangling bushes had perplex'd 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 105 
 
 All path of man or beast, that pass'd that way. 
 
 One gate there only was, and that look'd east, 
 
 On the other side: which when the arch-felon saw, 
 
 Due entrance he disdain'd; and in contempt, 
 
 At one slight bound, high over-leap'd all bound. 
 
 Of hill or highest wall, and sheer within 
 
 Lights on his feet. As when a prowling wolf, 
 
 Whom hunger drives to seek new haunt for prey, 
 
 Watching where shepherds pen their flocks at eve, 
 
 In hurdled cots, amid the field secure, 
 
 Leaps o'er the fence with ease into the fold: 
 
 Or, as a thief, bent to unhoard the cash 
 
 Of some rich burgher, whose substantial doors, 
 
 Cross -barr'd and bolted fast, fear no assault, 
 
 In at the window climbs, or o'er the tiles: 
 
 So clomb this first grand thief into God's fold; 
 
 So since into his church, lewd hirelings climb. 
 
 Thence up he flew, and on the tree of life, 
 
 The middle tree, and highest there that grew, 
 
 Sat like a cormorant; yet not true life 
 
 Thereby regain'd, but sat devising death 
 
 To them who lived; nor, on the virtue thought 
 
 Of that life-giving plant, but only used 
 
 For prospect, what well used, had been the pledge 
 
 Of immortality. So little knows 
 
 Any, but God alone, to value right 
 
 The good before him, but perverts best things 
 
 To worst abuse, or to their meanest use. 
 
 Beneath him, with new wonder, now he views, 
 
 To all delight of human sense exposed, 
 
 In narrow room, nature's whole wealth; yea more 
 
106 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 A Heaven on Earth: for blissful Paradise 
 
 Of God the garden was, by him in the east 
 
 Of Eden planted. Eden stretched her line, 
 
 From Auran eastward to the royal towers 
 
 Of great Seleucia, built by Grecian kings; 
 
 Or where the sons of Eden long before 
 
 Dwelt in Telassar. In this pleasant soil 
 
 His far more pleasant garden God ordain'd : 
 
 Out of the fertile ground he caused to grow 
 
 All trees of noblest kind, for sight, smell, taste; 
 
 And all amid them stood the Tree of Life. 
 
 High, eminent, blooming ambrosial fruit 
 
 Of vegetable gold; and next to Life, 
 
 Our death, the Tree of Knowledge grew fast by; 
 
 Knowledge of good, bought dear, by knowing ill. 
 
 Southward through Eden went a river large, 
 
 Nor changed his course, but through the shaggy hill 
 
 Pass'd underneath ingulf d; for God had thrown 
 
 That mountain, as his garden-mould, high raised 
 
 Upon the rapid current, which, through veins 
 
 Of porous earth with kindly thirst up drawn, 
 
 Hose a fresh fountain, and with many a rill 
 
 Water d the garden; thence united, fell 
 
 Down the steep glade, and met the nether flood. 
 
 Which, from his darksome passage now appears; 
 
 And now, divided into four main streams, 
 
 Euns diverse, wandering many a famous realm 
 
 And country, whereof here needs no account; 
 
 But rather to tell how, if art could tell, 
 
 How from that sapphire fount the crisped brooks, 
 
 Rolling on orient pearl and sands of gold. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 107 
 
 With mazy error under pendent shades 
 Ran nectar, visiting each plant, and fed 
 Flowers worthy of Paradise; which not nice art 
 In beds and curious knots, but Nature boon 
 Pour'd forth profuse on hill, and dale, and plain; 
 Both where the morning sun first warmly smote 
 The open field, and where the unpierced shade 
 Imbrown'd the noontide bowers. Thus was thisplace 
 A happy rural seat of various view: [balm: 
 
 Groves, whose rich trees wept odorous gums and 
 Others, whose fruit, burnish'd with golden rind. 
 Hung amiable, Hesperian fables true, 
 If true, here only, and of delicious taste. 
 Betwixt them lawns, or level downs, and flocks 
 Grazing the tender herb, were interposed; 
 Or palmy hillock, or the flowery lap 
 Of some irriguous valley spread her store ; 
 Flowers of all hue, and without thorn the rose. 
 Another side, umbrageous grots and caves 
 Of cool recess, o'er which the mantling vine 
 Lays forth her purple grape, and gently creeps 
 Luxuriant: meanwhile, murmuring waters fall 
 Down the slope hills, dispersed, or in a lake, 
 That to the fringed bank with myrtle crown'd 
 Her crystal mirror holds, unite their streams. 
 The birds their quire apply; airs, vernal airs, 
 Breathing the smell of field and grove, attune 
 The trembling leaves, while universal Pan, 
 Knit with the Graces and the Hours in dance, 
 Led on the eternal Spring. Not that fair field 
 Of Enna, where Proserpine gathering flowers, 
 
108 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Herself a fairer flower, by gloomy Bis 
 
 Was gather'd, which cost Ceres all that pain 
 
 To seek her through the world; nor that sweet 
 
 Of Daphne, by Orontes, and the inspired [grov^ 
 
 Castalian spring, might with this Paradise 
 
 Of Eden strive; nor that Nyseian isle. 
 
 Girt with the river Triton, where old Cham. 
 
 Whom Gentiles Ammon call and Libyan Jove, 
 
 Hid Amalthea, and her florid son 
 
 Young Bacchus, from his stepdame Khea's eye: 
 
 Nor, where Abassin kings their issue guard, 
 
 Mount Amara, though this by some supposed 
 
 True Paradise, under the Ethiop line, 
 
 By Nilus' head, inclosed with shining rock, 
 
 A whole day's journey high, but wide remote 
 
 From this Assyrian garden, where the fiend 
 
 Saw, undelighted, all delight, all kind 
 
 Of living creatures, new to sight and strange. 
 
 Two of far nobler shape, erect and tall, 
 
 Godlike erect, with native honour clad 
 
 In naked majesty, seem'd lords of all; 
 
 And worthy seem'd : for in their looks divine, 
 
 The image of their glorious Maker shone, 
 
 Truth, wisdom, sanctitude severe and pure, 
 
 Severe, but in true filial freedom placed; 
 
 Whence true authority in men: though both 
 
 Not equal, as their sex not equal seem'd: 
 
 For contemplation he, and valour form'd," 
 
 For softness she, and sweet attractive grace; 
 
 He for God only, she for God in him. 
 
 His fair large front, and eye sublime, declared 
 
PARADISE LOST. 109 
 
 Absolute rule; and hyacinthine locks, 
 
 Round from his parted forelock, manly hung, 
 
 Clustering, but not beneath his shoulders broad; 
 
 She, as a veil, down to the slender waist, 
 
 Her unadorned golden tresses wore, 
 
 Dishevell'd, but in wanton ringlets waved 
 
 As the vine curls her tendrils; which imply'd 
 
 Subjection, but required with gentle sway, 
 
 And by her yielded, by him best received, 
 
 Yielded with coy submission, modest pride, 
 
 And sweet, reluctant, amorous delay. 
 
 Nor those mysterious parts were then conceal'd: 
 
 Then was not guilty shame. Dishonest shame 
 
 Of nature's works, honour dishonourable, 
 
 Sin- bred, how have ye troubled all mankind 
 
 With shews instead, mere shows of seeming pure, 
 
 And banish'd from man's life, his happiest life, 
 
 Simplicity, and spotless innocence. 
 
 So pass'd they naked on, nor shunn'd the sight 
 
 Of God or angel, for they thought no ill: 
 
 So hand in hand they pass'd, the loveliest pair 
 
 That ever since in love's embraces met; 
 
 Adam, the goodliest man of men since born 
 
 His sons, the fairest of her daughters Eve. 
 
 Under a tuft of shade, that on a green 
 
 Stood whispering soft, by a fresh fountain side, 
 
 They sat them down; and after no more toil 
 
 Of their sweet gardening labour, than sufficed 
 
 To recommend cool zephyr, and made ease 
 
 More easy, wholesome thirst and appetite 
 
 More grateful, to their supper-fruits they fellj 
 
110 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Nectarine fruits, which the compliant boughs 
 Yielded them, side-long as they eat, recline 
 On the soft downy bank, damask'd with flowers. 
 The savory pulp they chew, and in the rind, 
 Still as they thirsted, scoop the brimming stream : 
 Nor gentle purpose, nor endearing smiles 
 Wanted, nor youthful dalliance, as beseems 
 Fair couple, link'd in happy nuptial league, 
 Alone as they. About them, frisking play'd, 
 All beasts of the earth, since wild, and of all chase, 
 In wood or wilderness, forest or den: 
 ' Sporting the lion ramp'd, and in his paw 
 Dandled the kid; bears, tigers, ounces, pards, 
 Gamboll'd before them; the unwieldy elephant, 
 To make them mirth, used all his might and 
 
 wreathed 
 
 His lithe proboscis; close the serpent sly 
 Insinuating, wove with Gordian twine 
 His braided train, and of his fatal guile 
 Gave proof unheeded: others on the grass 
 Couch' d, and now, fill'd with pasture, gazing sat, 
 Or bed- ward ruminating: for the sun 
 Declined was hasting now, with prone career, 
 To the ocean isles; and, in the ascending scale 
 Of Heaven, the stars that usher evening rose: 
 When Satan, still in gaze, as first he stood, 
 Scarce thus at length fail'd speech recover' d sad. 
 
 "0 Hell! what do mine eyes with grief behold? 
 Into our room of bliss, thus high advanced, 
 Creatures of other mould, earth-born perhaps, 
 Not spirits, yet to heavenly spirits bright 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Little inferior: whom my thoughts pursue 
 
 With wonder, and could love, so lively shines 
 
 In them divine resemblance, and such grace 
 
 The hand that form'd them on their shape hath 
 
 Ah, gentle pair! ye little think how nigh [pour'd. 
 
 Your change approaches, when all these delights 
 
 Will vanish, and deliver ye to woe; 
 
 More woe, the more your taste is now of joy. 
 
 Happy, but for so happy ill secured, 
 
 Long to continue; and this high seat, your heaven, 
 
 111 fenced for heaven to keep out such a foe 
 
 As now is enter'd: yet no purposed foe 
 
 To you, whom I could pity, thus forlorn. 
 
 Though I unpitied: league with you I seek, 
 
 And mutual amity, so strait, so close, 
 
 That I with you must dwell, or you with rue 
 
 Henceforth: my dwelling haply may not please, 
 
 Like this fair Paradise, your sense; yet such 
 
 Accept your Maker's work: he gave it me, 
 
 Which I as freely give. Hell shall unfold, 
 
 To entertain you two, her widest gates, 
 
 And send forth all her kings; there will be room, 
 
 ]S"ot like these narrow limits, to receive 
 
 Your numerous offspring: if no better place, 
 
 Thank him who puts me, loth to this revenge 
 
 On you, who wrong me not, for him who wrong'd. 
 
 And should I, at your harmless innocence 
 
 Melt, as I do, yet public reason just, 
 
 Honour and empire, with revenge, enlarged, 
 
 By conquering this new world, compels me now 
 
 To do, what else, though damn'd, I should abhor." 
 
112 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 So spake the fiend; and with necessity, 
 The tyrant's plea, excused his devilish deeds. 
 Then, from his lofty stand on that high tree, 
 Down he alights, among the sportful herd 
 Of those four-footed kinds; himself now one, 
 Now other, as their shape served best his end 
 Nearer to view his prey; and unespy'd, 
 To mark, what of their state he more might learn, 
 By word or action mark'd. About them round 
 A lion now he stalks, with fiery glare; 
 Then as a tiger, who by chance hath spy'd, 
 In some purlieu, two gentle fawns at play, 
 Straight couches close, then rising, changes oft 
 His couchant watch; as one who chose his ground, 
 Whence rushing, he might surest seize them both, 
 Griped in each paw : when Adam, first of men, 
 To first of women Eve, thus moving speech, 
 Turn'd him, all ear, to hear new utterance flow: 
 
 " Sole partner, and sole part, of all these joys 
 Dearer thyself than all; needs must the Power 
 That made us, and for us this ample world, 
 Be infinitely good, and of his good 
 As liberal and free as infinite: 
 That raised us from the dust, and placed us here, 
 In all this happiness; who at his hand 
 Have nothing merited, nor can perform 
 Aught, whereof he hath need: He, who requires 
 From us no other service, than to keep 
 This one, this easy charge, of all the trees 
 In Paradise, that bear delicious fruit, 
 So various, not to taste that only tree 
 
PARADISE LOST. 113 
 
 Of knowledge, planted by the tree of life. 
 
 So near grows death to life, whate'er death is; 
 
 Some dreadful thing no doubt; for well thou 
 know'st, 
 
 God hath pronounced it death to taste that tree; 
 
 The only sign of our obedience left, 
 
 Among so many signs of power and rule 
 
 Gonferr'd upon us, and dominion given, 
 
 Over all other creatures, that possess 
 
 Earth, air, and sea. Then let us not think hard 
 
 One easy prohibition, who enjoy 
 
 Free leave so large, to all things else, and choice 
 
 Unlimited, of manifold delights: 
 
 But let us ever praise him, and extol 
 His bounty, following our delightful task, [flowers, 
 To prune these growing plants, and tend these 
 Which, were it toilsome, yet with thee were sweet." 
 To whom thus Eve replied: " thou, for whom, 
 And from whom I was form'd. flesh of thy flesh, 
 And without whom, am to no end, my guide 
 And head, what thou hast said is just and right. 
 For we to Him indeed all praises owe, 
 And daily thanks; I chiefly; who enjoy 
 So far the happier lot, enjoying thee, 
 Pre-eminent by so much odds; while thou 
 Like consort to thyself, canst no where find. 
 That day 1 oft remember, when from sleep 
 I first awaked, and found myself reposed, 
 Under a shade on flowers, much wondering, where 
 And what I was, whence thither brought, and how. 
 Not distant far from thence, a murmuring sound 
 
114 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Of waters issued from a cave, and spread 
 
 Into a liquid plain, then stood unmoved, 
 
 Pure as the expanse of Heaven: I thither went, 
 
 With unexperienced thought, and laid me down 
 
 On the green bank, to look into the clear 
 
 Smooth lake, tha"t to me seem'd another sky. 
 
 As I bent down to look, just opposite, 
 
 A shape within the watery gleam appear'd, 
 
 Bending to look on me: I started back, 
 
 It started back; but pleased, I soon return'd, 
 
 Pleased it return'd as soon, with answering looks 
 
 Of sympathy and love. There I had fix'd 
 
 Mine eyes till now, and pined with vain desire, 
 
 Had not a voice thus warn'd me; l What thou seest, 
 
 What there thou seest, fair creature, is thyself; 
 
 With thee it came and goes: but follow me, 
 
 And I will bring thee, where no shadow stays 
 
 Thy coming, and thy soft embraces; he 
 
 Whose image thou art, him thou shalt enjoy, 
 
 Inseparably thine; to him shalt bear 
 
 Multitudes, like thyself, and thence be call'd 
 
 Mother of human race.' What could I do, 
 
 But follow straight, invisibly thus led 1 
 
 Till I espied thee, fair indeed, and tall, 
 
 Under a platane; yet methought less fair, 
 
 Less winning soft, less amiably mild, 
 
 Than that smooth watery image: back I turn'd; 
 
 Thou following cried'st aloud, " Return, fair Eve; 
 
 Whom fliest thou? whom thou fliest, of him thou 
 
 His flesh, his bone; to give thee being, I lent [art. 
 
 Out of my side to thee, nearest my heart, 
 
PAEADISE LOST. 115 
 
 Substantial life, to have thee by my side 
 Henceforth, an individual solace dear: 
 Part of my soul I seek thee, and thee claim 
 My other half. With that thy gentle hand 
 Seized mine; I yielded; and from that time see, 
 How beauty is excell'd by manly grace 
 And wisdom, which alone is truly fair." 
 
 So spake our general mother; and with eyes 
 Of conjugal attraction, unreproved, 
 And meek surrender, half-embracing, lean'd 
 On our first father; half her swelling breast 
 Naked met his, under the flowing gold 
 Of her loose tresses hid: he, in delight, 
 Both of her beauty and submissive charms, 
 Smiled with superior love, as Jupiter 
 On Juno smiles, when he impregns the clouds, 
 That shed May-flowers; and press'd her matron lip, 
 With kisses pure. Aside the Devil turn'd 
 For envy, yet, with jealous leer malign, 
 Eyed them askance, and to himself thus plain'd: 
 
 " Sight hateful ! sight tormenting ! thus these 
 Imparadised in one another's arms, [two, 
 
 The happier Eden, shall enjoy their fill 
 Of bliss on bliss; while I to Hell am thrust, 
 Where neither joy, nor love, but fierce desire. 
 Among our other torments not the least, 
 Still unfulfill'd, with pain of longing, pines. 
 Yet let me not forget, what I have gain'd 
 From their own mouths: all is not theirs, it seems ; 
 One fatal tree there stands, of knowledge call'd, 
 Forbidden them to taste: Knowledge forbidden ! 
 
116 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Suspicious, reasonless. Why should their Lord 
 Envy them that? Can it be sin to know 1 ? 
 Can it be death? And do they only stand 
 By ignorance? Is that their happy state, 
 The proof of their obedience and their faith? 
 fair foundation laid, whereon to build 
 Their ruin. Hence, I will excite their minds, 
 With more desire to know, and to reject 
 Envious commands, invented with design 
 To keep them low, whom knowledge might exalt, 
 Equal with gods: aspiring to be such. 
 They taste and die: what likelier can ensue? 
 But first with narrow search, 1 must walk round 
 This garden, and no corner leave unspied; 
 A chance, but chance may lead where I may meet 
 Some wandering spirit of Heaven, by fountain-side, 
 Or in thick shade retired, from him to draw 
 What further would be learn'd. Live while ye 
 Yet happy pair; enjoy, till I return, [may 
 
 Short pleasures, for long woes are to succeed." 
 So saying, his proud step he scornful turn'd, 
 But with sly cirumspection; and began [his roam. 
 Through wood, through waste, o'er hill, o'er dale, 
 Meanwhile, in utmost longitude, where heaven 
 With earth and ocean meets, the setting sun 
 Slowly descended, and with right aspect, 
 Against the eastern gate of Paradise, 
 Levell'd his evening rays: it was a rock 
 Of alabaster, piled up to the clouds, 
 Conspicuous far, winding with one ascent 
 Accessible from earth, one entrance high; 
 
PARADISE LOST. 117 
 
 The rest was craggy cliff, that overhung 
 
 Still as it rose, impossible to climb. 
 
 Betwixt these rocky pillars, Gabriel sat, 
 
 Chief of the angelic guards, awaiting night; 
 
 About him, exercised heroic games 
 
 The unarm'd youth of heaven; but nigh at hand 
 
 Celestial armory, shields, helms, and spears, 
 
 Hung high, with diamond flaming, and with gold. 
 
 Thither came Uriel, gliding through the even, 
 
 On a sun- beam, swift as a shooting star 
 
 In autum thwarts the night, when vapours fired 
 
 Impress the air, and show the mariner 
 
 From what point of his compass to beware 
 
 Impetuous winds: he thus began in haste: 
 
 " Gabriel, to thee thy course by lot hath given 
 Charge and strict watch, that to this happy place, 
 No evil thing approach or enter in. 
 This day, at height of noon, came to my sphere 
 A spirit, zealous, as he seem'd, to know 
 More of the Almighty's works, and chiefly man. 
 God's latest image: I described his way, 
 Bent all on speed, and marked his airy gait; 
 But in the mount, that lies from Eden north, 
 Where he first lighted, soon discern'd his looks, 
 Alien from Heaven, with passions foul obscured: 
 Mine eye pursued him still, but under shade 
 Lost sight of him. One of the banish'd crew, 
 I fear, hath ventured from the deep, to raise 
 New troubles ; him thy care must be to find." 
 
 To whom the winged warrior thus return'd: 
 '* Uriel, no wonder if thy perfect sight, 
 
118 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Amid the sun's bright circle, where thou sitt'st, 
 See far and wide. In at this gate none pass 
 The vigilance here placed, but such as come 
 Well known from heaven; and since meridian hour- 
 No creature thence: if spirit of other sort, 
 So minded, have o'erleap'd these earthly bounds 
 On purpose; hard thou know'st it, to exclude 
 Spiritual substance with corporeal bar. 
 But if within the circuit of these walks, 
 In whatsoever shape he lurk, of whom 
 Thou tell'st, by morrow dawning I shall know. 1 " 
 
 So promised he; and Uriel to his charge 
 Return'd on that bright beam, whose point, now 
 
 raised, 
 
 Bore him slope downward to the sun, now fallen 
 Beneath the Azores; whether the prime orb, 
 Incredible how swift, had thither roll'd 
 Diurnal, or this less voluble earth, 
 By shorter flight to the east, had left him there, 
 Arraying, with reflected purple and gold 
 The clouds, that on his western throne attend. 
 Now came still evening on, and twilight gray 
 Had in her sober livery all things clad; 
 Silence accompanied; for beast and bird, 
 They to their grassy couch, these to their nests, 
 Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale; 
 She, all night long her amorous descant sung; 
 Silence was pleased. Now glow'd the firmament 
 With living sapphires; Hesperus, that led 
 The starry host, rode brightest, till the moon, 
 llising in clouded majesty, at length 
 
PARADISE LOST. 119 
 
 Apparent queen, unveiled her peerless light, 
 And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw. 
 
 When Adam thus to Eve: " Fair consort, the 
 Of night, and all things now retired to rest, [hour 
 Mind us of like repose; since God hath set 
 Labour and rest, as day and night, to men 
 Successive; and the timely dew of sleep, 
 j^ow falling with soft slumbrous weight, inclines 
 Our eye-lids: other creatures, all day long, 
 Rove idle, unemployed, and less need rest; 
 Man hath his daily work of body or mind 
 Appointed, which declares his dignity, 
 And the regard of Heaven on all his ways; 
 While other animals inactive range, 
 And of their doings God takes no account. 
 To-morrow, ere fresh morning streak the east, 
 With first approach of light, we must be risen. 
 And at our pleasant labour, to reform 
 Yon flowery arbours, yonder alleys green, 
 Our walk at noon, with branches overgrown, 
 That mock our scant manuring, and require 
 More hands than ours to lop their wanton growth: 
 Those blossoms also, and those drooping gums, 
 That lie bestrown, unsightly, and unsmooth, 
 Ask riddance, if we mean to tread with ease: 
 Meanwhile, as nature wills, night bids us rest. 
 
 To whom thus Eve, with perfect beauty adorn'd: 
 " My author and disposer ! what thou bidst, 
 Unargu'd, I obey; so God ordains: 
 God is thy law, thou mine; to know no more 
 Is woman's happiest knowledge, and her praise. 
 
120 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 With thee conversing, I forget all time; 
 All seasons and their change, all please alike. 
 Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, 
 With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the sun, 
 When first, on this delightful land, he spreads 
 His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower, 
 Glistering with dew; fragrant the fertile earth. 
 After soft showers; and sweet the coming on 
 Of grateful evening mild; then silent night, 
 With this her solemn bird, and this fair moon, 
 And these the gems of Heaven, her starry train: 
 But neither breath of morn, when she ascends 
 With charm of earliest birds; nor rising sun 
 On this delightful land; nor herb, fruit, flower, 
 Glistering with dew; nor fragrance after showers; 
 Nor grateful evening mild; nor silent night, 
 With this her solemn bird; nor walk by moon, 
 Or glittering star-light, without thee is sweet, 
 But wherefore all night long shine these? for whom 
 This glorious sight, when sleep hath shut all eyes?" 
 
 To whom our general ancestor replied: 
 " Daughter of God and man, accomplish'd Eve, 
 These have their course to finish, round the earth, 
 By morrow-evening; and from land to land, 
 In order, though to nations yet unborn, 
 Ministering light prepared, they set and rise: 
 Lest total darkness should, by night, regain 
 Her old possession, and extinguish life 
 In nature and all things; which these soft fires. 
 Not only enlighten, but with kindly heat, 
 Of various influence, foment and warm, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Temper or nourish; or in part shed down 
 Their stellar virtue, on all kinds that grow 
 On earth, made hereby apter to receive 
 Perfection, from the sun's more potent ray. 
 These then, though unbeheld in deep of night, 
 Shine not in vain; nor think, though men were none, 
 That Heaven would want spectators, God want 
 
 praise: 
 
 Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth 
 Unseen, both when we wake and when we sleep: 
 All these, with ceaseless praise, his works behold 
 Both day and night. How often, from the steep 
 Of echoing hill, or thicket, have we heard 
 Celestial voices, to the midnight air. 
 Sole, or responsive each to others note, 
 Singing their great Creator? Oft in bands 
 While they keep watch, or nightly rounding walk, 
 With heavenly touch of instrumental sounds, 
 In full harmonic numbers join'd, their songs 
 Divide the night, and lift our thoughts to heaven." 
 
 Thus talking, hand in hand along, they pass'd 
 On to their blissful bower; it was a place 
 Chosen by the sovereign Planter, when he framed 
 All things to man's delightful use; the roof, 
 Of thickest covert, was inwoven shade, 
 Laurel and myrtle, and what higher grew 
 Of firm and fragrant leaf; on either side 
 Acanthus, and each odorous bushy shrub, 
 Fenced up the verdant wall; each beauteous flower, 
 Iris all hues, roses, and jessamine, [wrought 
 
 Rear'd high their flourish'd heads between, and 
 
122 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Mosaic; under-foot the violet; 
 Crocus, and hyacinth, with rich inlay, 
 Broider'd the ground, more coloured than with stone 
 Of costliest emblem; other creatures here, 
 Bird, beast, insect, or worm durst enter none, 
 Such was their awe of man. In shadier bovver, 
 More sacred and sequester'd, though but feign'd, 
 Pan or Sylvanus never slept, nor Nymph, 
 Nor Faunus haunted. Here, in close recess, 
 With flowers, garlands, and sweet-smelling herbs, 
 Espoused Eve deck'd first her nuptial bed; 
 And heavenly quires the hymenean sung 
 AVhat day, the genial angel to our sire 
 Brought her, in naked beauty more adorn'd; 
 More lovely than Pandora, whom the gods 
 Endow'd with all their gifts, and too like 
 In sad event, when, to the unwiser son 
 Of Japhet, brought by Hermes, she ensnared 
 Mankind, with her fair looks, to be avenged 
 On him who had stole Jove's authentic fire. 
 
 Thus at their shady lodge arrived, both stood, 
 Both turn'd; and under open sky adored 
 The God that made both sky, air, earth, and heaven, 
 Which they beheld, the moon's resplendent globe, 
 And starry pole: "Thou also mad'st the night, 
 Maker Omnipotent, and thou the day; 
 Which we, in our appointed work employ'd, 
 Have finished, happy in our mutual help 
 And mutual love, the crown of all our bliss 
 Ordain'd by thee; and this delicious place, 
 For us too large, where thy abundance wants 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Partakers, and uncropp'd falls, to the ground. 
 But thou hast promised from us two a race, 
 To fill the earth, who shall with us extol 
 Thy goodness infinite, both when we wake, 
 And when we seek, as now, thy gift of sleep." 
 
 This said unanimous, and other rites 
 Observing none, but adoration pure, 
 Which God likes best, into their inmost bower 
 Handed they went; and, eased the putting off 
 These troublesome disguises which we wear, 
 Straight side by side were laid: nor turn'd, I ween, 
 Adam from his fair spouse, nor Eve the rites 
 Mysterious of connubial love refused: 
 Whatever hypocrites austerely talk, 
 Of purity, and place, and innocence, 
 Defaming as impure what God declares 
 Pure, and commands to some; leaves free to all. 
 Our Maker bids increase; who bids abstain 
 But our destroyer, foe to God and man? 
 Hail, wedded love, mysterious law, true source 
 Of human offspring, sole propriety 
 In Paradise, of all things common else. 
 By thee adulterous lust was driven from men, 
 Among the bestial herds to range; by thee, 
 Founded in reason, loyal, just, and pure, 
 Relations dear, and all the charities 
 Of father, son, and brother, first were known. 
 Far be it, that I should write thee sin or blame, 
 Or think thee unbefitting holiest place; 
 Perpetual fountain of domestic sweets: 
 Whose bed is undefiled, and chaste pronounced, 
 
124 PAEADISE LOST. 
 
 
 
 Present, or past, as saints and patriarchs used. 
 Here Love his golden shafts employs, here lights 
 His constant lamp, and waves his purple wings, 
 Reigns here and revels; not in the bought smile 
 Of harlots, loveless, joyless, unendear'd, 
 Casual fruition; nor in court-amours, 
 Mix'd dance, or wanton mask, or midnight ball, 
 Or serenade, which the starved lover sings 
 To his proud fair, best quitted with disdain. 
 These, lull'd by nightingales, embracing slept, 
 And on their naked limbs the flowery roof 
 Shower' d roses, which the morn repair'd. Sleep on, 
 Blest pair; and 0! yet happiest, if ye seek 
 No happier state, and know to know no more. 
 
 Now had night measured, with her shadowy cone, 
 Half way up hill, this vast sublunar vault; 
 And from their ivory port the cherubim, 
 Forth issuing at the accustom'd hour, stood arm'd 
 To their night watches, in warlike parade; 
 When Gabriel to his next in power thus spake: 
 
 " Uzziel, half these draw off, and coast the south, 
 With strictest watch; these other wheel the north ; 
 Our circuit meets full west." As flame they part, 
 Half wheeling to the shield, half to the spear. 
 From these two strong and subtle spirits he call'd 
 That near him stood, and gave them thus in charge: 
 
 "Ithuriel and Zephon, with wing'd speed, 
 Search through this garden, leave unsearch'd no nook ; 
 But chiefly where those two fair creatures lodge, 
 Now laid perhaps asleep, secure of harm. 
 This evening from the sun's decline arrived, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Who tells of some infernal spirit, seen 
 Hitherward bent, (who could have thought 1 ?) es- 
 The bars of Hell, on errand bad, no doubt: [caped 
 Such where ye find, seize fast, and hither bring." 
 
 So saying, on he led his radiant files, 
 Dazzling the moon; these to the bower direct 
 In search of whom they sought: him there they 
 Squat like a toad, close at the ear of Eve, [found 
 Essaying by his devilish art to reach 
 The organs of her fancy, and with them forge 
 Illusions as he list, phantasms and dreams; 
 Or if, inspiring venom, he might taint 
 The animal spirits, that from pure blood arise, 
 Like gentle breaths from rivers pure; thence raise 
 At least distemper'd, discontented thoughts, 
 Vain thoughts, vain aims, inordinate desires, 
 Blown up with high conceits engendering pride. 
 Him thus intent Ithuriel with his spear 
 Touch'd lightly; for no falsehood can endure 
 Touch of celestial temper, but returns 
 Of force, to its own likeness: up he starts 
 Discovered and surprised. As when a spark 
 Lights on a heap of nitrous powder, laid 
 Fit for the tun, some magazine to store 
 Against a ruraour'd war; the smutty grain, 
 With sudden blaze diffused, inflames the air; 
 So started up in his own shape the fiend. 
 Back stepp'd those two fair angels, half amazed 
 So sudden to behold the grisly king- 
 Yet thus, unmoved with fear, accost him soon: 
 
 "Which of those rebel spirits adjudged to Hell 
 
126 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Contest thou, escaped thy prison? and, transformed. 
 
 Why sat'st thou like an enemy in wait, 
 
 Here watching, at the head of these that sleep?" 
 
 "Know ye not then," said Satan, fill'd with scorn, 
 '- Know ye not me? ye knew me once no mate 
 For you, there sitting where ye durst not soar: 
 Not to know me argues yourselves unknown, 
 The lowest of your throng; or, if ye know, 
 Why ask ye, and superfluous begin 
 Your message, like to end as much in vain?" 
 
 To whom thus Zephon, answering scorn with scorn : 
 " Think not, revolted spirit, thy shape the same, 
 Or undiminish'd brightness to be known, [pure; 
 As when thou stood'st in Heaven, upright and 
 That glory then, when thou no more wast good, 
 Departed from thee; and thou resemblest now 
 Thy sin and place of doom obscure and foul. 
 But come; for thou, be sure, shalt give account 
 To him who sent us, whose charge is to keep 
 This place inviolable, and these from harm." 
 
 So spake the cherub; and his grave rebuke, 
 Severe in youthful beauty, added grace 
 Invincible: abash'd the Devil stood, 
 And felt how awful goodness is, and saw 
 Virtue in her shape how lovely; saw, and pined 
 His loss; but chiefly to find here observed 
 His lustre visibly impair'd; yet seem'd 
 Undaunted. " If I must contend," said he, 
 " Best with the best, the sender not the sent, 
 Or all at once; more glory will be won, 
 Or less be lost." " Thy fear," said Zephon bold, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 127 
 
 " Will save us trial what the least can do 
 Single against thee, wicked and thence weak." 
 
 The fiend replied not, overcome with rage; 
 But, like a proud steed rein'd, went haughty on. 
 Champing his iron curb; to strive or fly 
 He held it vain; awe from above had quell'd 
 His heart, not else dismay'd. Now drew they nigh 
 The western point, where those half-rounding 
 
 guards 
 
 Just met, and closing stood in squadron join'd, 
 Awaiting next command. To whom their chief, 
 Gabriel, from the front, thus call'd aloud. 
 
 " friends ! I hear the tread of nimble feet 
 Hasting this way, and now by glimpse discern 
 Ithuriel and Zephon through the shade; 
 And with them comes a third, of regal port, 
 But faded splendour wan; who by his gait 
 And fierce demeanour, seems the prince of Hell, 
 Nor likely to part hence without contest: 
 Stand firm, for in his look defiance lowers." 
 
 He scarce had ended, when those two approach'd; 
 And brief related whom they brought, where found, 
 How busied, in what form and posture couch 'd. 
 
 To whom with stern regard thus Gabriel spake: 
 " Why hast thou, Satan, broke the bounds pre- 
 scribed 
 
 To thy transgressions? and disturb'd the charge 
 Of others, who approve not to transgress 
 By thy example? but have power and right 
 To question thy bold entrance on this place; 
 Einploy'd, it seems, to violate sleep, and those 
 
128 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Whose dwelling God hath planted here, in bliss." 
 To whom thus Satan, with contemptuous brow: 
 " Gabriel, thou hadst in heaven the esteem of wise, 
 And such I held thee; but this question ask'd 
 Puts me in doubt. Lives there who loves his pain? 
 Who would not, finding way, break loose from Hell, 
 Though thither doom'd? Thou wouldst thyself, 
 And boldly venture to whatever place [no doubt, 
 Farthest from pain, where thou might'st hope to 
 Torment with ease, and soonest recompense [change 
 Dole with delight; which in this place I sought. 
 To thee no reason, who know'st only good. 
 But evil hast not tried; and wilt object 
 His will, who bounds us 1 ? Let him surer bar 
 His iron gates, if he intends our stay 
 In that dark durance: thus much what was ask'd. 
 The rest is true, they found me where they say; 
 But that implies not violence, or harm." 
 
 Thus he in scorn. The warlike angel moved, 
 Disdainfully half-smiling, thus replied: 
 " loss of one in Heaven, to judge of wise! 
 Since Satan fell, whom folly overthrew; 
 And now returns him from his prison 'scaped, 
 Gravely in doubt whether to hold them wise 
 Or not, who ask what boldness brought him hither 
 Unlicensed from his bounds in Hell prescribed; 
 So wise he judges it to fly from pain 
 However, and to 'scape his punishment ! 
 So judge thou still, presumptuous; till tire wrath, 
 Which thou incurr'st by flying, meet thy flight 
 Sevenfold, and scourge that wisdom back to Hell. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 129 
 
 Which taught thee yet no better, That no pain 
 Can equal anger infinite provoked. 
 But wherefore thou alone 1 ? wherefore, with thee, 
 Came not all Hell broke loose? Is pain to them 
 Less pain, less to be fled; or thou than they 
 Less hardy to endure? Courageous chief! 
 The first in flight from pain ! hadst thou alleged 
 To thy deserted host this cause of flight, 
 Thou surely hadst not come sole fugitive." 
 
 To which the fiend thus answer'd, frowning stern : 
 " Not that I less endure, or shrink from pain, 
 Insulting angel ! well thou know'st I stood 
 Thy fiercest; when in battle to thy aid 
 The blasting vollied thunder made all speed, 
 And seconded thy else not dreaded spear. 
 But still thy words at random, as before, 
 Argue thy inexperience what behoves 
 From hard assays and ill successes past 
 A faithful leader; not to hazard all 
 Through ways of danger, by himself untried: 
 I therefore, I alone first undertook 
 To wing the desolate abyss, and spy 
 This new-created world, whereof in Hell 
 Fame is not silent; here in hope to find 
 Better abode, and my afflicted powers 
 To settle here on earth, or in mid-air; 
 Though, for possession, put to try once more 
 What thou and thy gay legions dare against; 
 Whose easier business were to serve their Lord, 
 High up in Heaven, with songs to hymn his throne 
 And practised distances to cringe, not fight." 
 
130 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 To whom the warrior-angel soon replied: 
 " To say, and straight unsay, pretending first 
 Wise to fly pain, professing next the spy, 
 Argues no leader, but a liar traced. 
 Satan ! and couldst thou faithful add ? name, 
 sacred name of faithfulness profaned ! 
 Faithful to whom 1 ? to thy rebellious crew? 
 Army of fiends, fit body to fit head. 
 Was this your discipline and faith engaged, 
 Your military obedience, to dissolve 
 Allegiance to the acknowledged Power supreme? 
 And thou, sly hypocrite, who now wouldst seem 
 Patron of liberty, who more than thou 
 Once fawn'd, and cringed, and servilely adored 
 Heaven's awful Monarch 1 ? wherefore but in hope 
 To dispossess him, and thyself to reign 1 
 But mark, what I areed thee now; Avaunt ! 
 Fly thither whence thou fled'st: if, from this hour, 
 Within these hallow'd limits thou appear, 
 Back to the infernal pit I drag thee, chain'd, 
 And seal thee so, as henceforth not to scorn 
 The facile gates of Hell, too slightly barr'd." 
 
 So threaten'd he; but Satan to no threats 
 Gave heed, but waxing more in rage replied: 
 
 " Then, when I am thy captive, talk of chains, 
 Proud limitary cherub; but ere then 
 Far heavier load thyself expect to feel 
 From my prevailing arm; though Heaven's King 
 Ride on thy wings, and thou with thy compeers, 
 Used to the yoke, draw'st his triumphant wheels 
 In progress through the road of heaven, star-paved." 
 
PARADISE LOST. 131 
 
 While thus he spake, the angelic squadron bright 
 Turn'd fiery red, sharpening in mooned horns 
 Their phalanx, and began to hem him round 
 With ported spears, as thick as when a field 
 Of Ceres, ripe for harvest, waving bends 
 Her bearded grove of ears, which way the wind 
 Sways them; the careful ploughman doubting stands, 
 Lest on the threshing-floor his hopeful sheaves 
 Prove chaff. On the other side, Satan, alarm'd, 
 Collecting all his might, dilated stood, 
 Like Teneriffe, or Atlas, unremoved: 
 His stature reach'd the sky, and on his crest 
 Sat horror plumed; nor wanted in his grasp 
 What seem'd both spear and shield. Now dread- 
 Might have ensued; nor only Paradise [ful deeds 
 In this commotion, but the starry cope 
 Of Heaven perhaps, or all the elements 
 At least had gone to wrack, disturb'd and torn 
 With violence of this conflict, had not soon 
 The Eternal, to prevent such horrid fray, 
 Hung forth in Heaven his golden scales, yet seen 
 Betwixt Astrea and the Scorpion sign, 
 Wherein all things created first he weigh'd, 
 The pendulous round earth with balanced air 
 In counterpoise; now ponders all events, 
 Battles, and realms: in these he put two weights, 
 The sequel each of parting and of fight; 
 The latter quick up flew, and kicked the beam: 
 Which Gabriel spying, thus bespake the fiend: 
 
 *' Satan, I know thy strength, and thou know'st 
 Neither our own, but given; what folly then [mine; 
 
132 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 To boast what arms can do! since thine, no more 
 Than Heaven permits, nor mine, though doubled 
 To trample thee as mire: for proof look up, [now, 
 And read thy lot in yon celestial sign, 
 Where thou art weigh'd, and shown how light, how 
 
 weak, 
 
 If thou resist.'' The fiend looked up, and knew 
 His mounted scale aloft: nor more; but fled 
 Murmuring, and with him fled the shades of night. 
 
 END OF 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 BOOK Y. 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Morning approached, Eve relates to Adam her troublesome 
 dream: he likes it not, yet comforts her. They come forth to 
 their day labours: their morning hymn at the door of their 
 lower. God, to render man inexcusable, sends Raphael to 
 admonish him of his obedience, of his free estate, of his ene- 
 my near at hand, who he is, and why his enemy; and what- 
 ever else may avail Adam to know. Raphael comes down 
 to Paradise: his appearance described: his coming discerned 
 by Adam afar off, sitting at the door of his lower: he goes 
 out to meet him, brings him to his lodge, entertains him with 
 the choicest fruits of Paradise got together by Eve; their 
 discourse at table. Raphael perform* his message, minds 
 Adam of his state an^ /,$ memy; relates, at Adam's re- 
 quest, who that enemy is, and how he came to be so, beginning 
 from his first revolt in heaven, and the occasion thereof; 
 how he drew his legions after him to the parts of the north, 
 and there incited them to rebel with him, persuading all but 
 only Abdiel a seraph, who in argument dissuades and 
 opposes him, then forsakes him. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 BOOK Y. 
 
 Now morn, her rosy steps in the eastern clime 
 Advancing, sow'd the earth with orient pearl, 
 When Adam waked, so customed; for his sleep 
 Was airy-light, from pure digestion bred, 
 And temperate vapours bland, which the only sound 
 Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan, 
 Lightly dispersed, and the shrill matin song 
 Of birds on every bough: so much the more 
 His wonder was to find unwaken'd Eve 
 With tresses discomposed and glowing cheek, 
 As through unquiet rest: he, on his side 
 Leaning half-raised, with looks of cordial love 
 Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld 
 Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep, 
 Shot forth peculiar graces; then with voice 
 Mild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes, 
 Her hand soft touching, whisper'd thus: " Awake, 
 My fairest, my espoused, my latest found, 
 Heaven's last best gift, my ever new delight! 
 Awake; the morning shines, and the fresh field 
 Calls us; we lose the prime, to mark how spring 
 
136 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Our tended plants, how blows the citron-grove, 
 What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed, 
 How nature paints her colours, how the bee 
 Sits on the bloom, extracting liquid sweet." 
 
 Such whispering waked her, but with startled eye 
 On Adam, whom embracing, thus she spake : 
 
 " sole in whom my thoughts find all repose, 
 My glory, my perfection; glad I see 
 Thy face, and morn return'd; for I this night 
 (Such night till this I never pass'd,) have dream'd, 
 If dream'd, not, as I oft am wont, of thee, 
 Works of day past, or morrow's next design; 
 But of offence and trouble, which my mind 
 Knew never, till this irksome night. Methought 
 Close at mine ear one call'd me forth to walk 
 With gentle voice; I thought it thine: it said, 
 ' Why sleep'st thou, Eve 1 ? now is the pleasant time, 
 The cool, the silent, save where silence yields 
 To the night-warbling bird, that now awake 
 Tunes sweetest his love-labour'd song; now reigns 
 Full-orb'd the moon, and with more pleasing light 
 Shadowy sets off the face of things; in vain, 
 If none regard: Heaven wakes with all his eyes, 
 Whom to behold but thee, nature's desire? 
 In whose sight all things joy, with ravishment, 
 Attracted by thy beauty still to gaze.' 
 I rose as at thy call, but found thee not; 
 To find thee I directed then my walk; 
 And on, methought, alone I pass'd through ways 
 That brought me on a sudden to the tree 
 Of interdicted knowledge: fair it seem'd, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 137 
 
 Much fairer to my fancy than by day: 
 
 And, as I wondering look'd, beside it stood 
 
 One shaped and wing'd like one of those from 
 
 By us oft seen; his dewy locks distill'd [Heaven 
 
 Ambrosia; on that tree he also gazed: 
 
 ' And, fair plant/ said he, ' with fruit surcharged, 
 
 Deigns none to ease thy load, and taste thy sweet, 
 
 Nor God, nor man*? is knowledge so despised? 
 
 Or envy, or what reserve forbids to taste? 
 
 Forbid who will, none shall from me withhold 
 
 Longer thy offer' d good; why else set here?' 
 
 This said, he paused not, but with venturous arm 
 
 He pluck'd, he tasted; me damp horror chill'd, 
 
 At such bold words vouch'd with a deed so bold: 
 
 But he thus, overjoy'd; ' fruit divine! 
 
 Sweet of thyself, but much more sweet thus cropt; 
 
 Forbidden here, it seems, as only fit 
 
 For gods, yet able to make gods of men: 
 
 And why not gods of men, since good, the more 
 
 Communicated, more abundant grows, 
 
 The author not impair'd, but honour'd more? 
 
 Here, happy creature, fair angelic Eve, 
 
 Partake thou also: happy though thou art, 
 
 Happier thou may'st be, worthier canst not be: 
 
 Taste this, and be henceforth, among the gods, 
 
 Thyself a goddess; not to earth confined, 
 
 But sometimes in the air, as we, sometimes 
 
 Ascend to Heaven, by merit thine, and see 
 
 What life the gods live there, and such live thou.' 
 
 So saying, he drew nigh, and to me held, 
 
 Even to my mouth of that same fruit held part 
 
138 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Which he had pluck'd: the pleasant savoury smell 
 
 So quicken'd appetite, that I, methought, 
 
 Could not but taste. Forthwith up to the clouds 
 
 With him I flew; and underneath beheld 
 
 The earth outstretch'd immense, a prospect wide 
 
 And various: wondering at my flight and change 
 
 To this high exaltation, suddenly 
 
 My guide was gone, and I, methought, sunk down, 
 
 And fell asleep: but 0! how glad I waked, 
 
 To find this but a dream!" Thus Eve her night 
 
 Related, and thus Adam answer'd sad: 
 
 " Best image of myself, and dearer half, 
 The trouble of thy thoughts this night in sleep 
 Affects me equally; nor can I like 
 This uncouth dream, of evil sprung I fear: 
 Yet evil whence 1 in thee can harbour none, 
 Created pure. But know, that in the soul 
 Are many lesser faculties that serve 
 Reason as chief; among these Fancy next 
 Her office holds; of all external things, 
 Which the five watchful senses represent, 
 She forms imaginations, airy shapes, 
 Which Reason, joining or disjoining, frames 
 All what we affirm or what deny, and call 
 Our knowledge, or opinion; then retires 
 Into her private cell, when nature rests. 
 Oft, in her absence mimic fancy wakes 
 To imitate her; butmisjoining shapes, 
 Wild work produces oft, and most in dreams; 
 111 matching words and deeds long past or late. 
 Some such resemblances, methinks, I find 
 
PARADISE LOST. 139 
 
 Of our last evening's talk in this thy dream, 
 
 But with addition strange; yet be not sad: 
 
 Evil into the mind of God or man 
 
 May come and go, so unapproved, and leave 
 
 No spot or blame behind: which gives me hope 
 
 That what in sleep thou did'st abhor to dream, 
 
 Waking thou never wilt consent to do. 
 
 Be not dishearten'd then; nor cloud those looks 
 
 That wont to be more cheerful and serene 
 
 Than when fair morning first smiles on the world; 
 
 And let us to our fresh employments rise 
 
 Among the groves, the fountains, and the flowers, 
 
 That open now their choicest bosom'd smells, 
 
 Reserved from night, and kept for thee in store." 
 
 So cheer'd he his fair spouse, and she was cheer'd; 
 But silently a gentle tear let fall 
 From either eye, and wiped them with her hair; 
 Two other precious drops that ready stood, 
 Each in their crystal sluice, he, ere they fell, 
 Kiss'd, as the gracious signs of sweet remorse, 
 And pious awe, that fear'd to have offended. 
 
 So all was clear'd, and to the field they haste. 
 But first, from under shady arborous roof, 
 Soon as they forth were come to open sight 
 Of day-spring and the sun, who, scarce uprisen, 
 With wheels yet hovering o'er the ocean-brim, 
 Shot parallel to the earth his dewy ray, 
 Discovering in wide landscape all the east 
 Of Paradise and Eden's happy plains; 
 Lowly they bow'd adoring, and began 
 Their orisons, each morning duly paid 
 
140 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 In various style; for neither various style 
 
 Nor holy rapture wanted they to praise 
 
 Their Maker, in fit strains pronounced, or sung 
 
 Unmeditated; such prompt eloquence 
 
 Flow'd from their lips, in prose or numerous verse 
 
 More tunable than needed lute or harp 
 
 To add more sweetness; and they thus began: 
 
 " These are thy glorious works, Parent of good, 
 Almighty! Thine this universal frame, 
 Thus wondrous faij$ thyself how wondrous then! 
 Unspeakable, thou sitt'st above these heavens, 
 To us invisible, or dimly seen 
 In these thy lowest works; yet these declare 
 Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine. 
 Speak, ye who best can tell, ye sons of light, 
 Angels; for ye behold him, and with songs 
 And choral symphonies, day without night, 
 Circle his throne rejoicing; ye in heaven; 
 On earth join all ye creatures to extol 
 Him first, him last, him midst, and without end. 
 Fairest of stars, last in the train of night, 
 If better thou belong not to the dawn, 
 Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling morn 
 With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere, 
 While day arises, that sweet hour of prime. 
 Thou sun, of this great world both eye and soul, 
 Acknowledge him thy greater; sound his praise 
 In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st, 
 And when high noon hast gain'd, and when thou 
 
 fall'st. 
 Moon, that now meet'st the orient sun, now fly'st, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 141 
 
 With the fix'd stars, fix'd in their orb that flies; 
 And ye five other wandering fires, that move 
 In mystic dance not without song, resound 
 His praise, who out of darkness call'd up light. 
 Air, and ye elements, the eldest birth 
 Of nature's womb, that in quaternion run 
 Perpetual circle, multiform, and mix, 
 And nourish all things; let your ceaseless change 
 Vary to our great Maker still new praise. 
 Ye mists and exhalations, that now rise 
 From hill or steaming lake, dusky or gray, 
 Till the sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold, 
 In honour to the world's great Author rise; 
 Whether to deck with clouds the uncolour'd sky, 
 Or wet the thirsty earth with falling showers, 
 Rising or falling, still advance his praise. 
 His praise, ye winds, that from four quarters blow, 
 Breathe soft or loud; and wave your tops, ye pines, 
 With every plant, in sign of worship wave. 
 Fountains, and ye that warble, as ye flow, 
 Melodious murmurs, warbling, tune his praise. 
 Join voices, all ye living souls: ye birds, 
 That singing up to Heaven-gate ascend, 
 Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise. 
 Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk 
 The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep; 
 Witness, if I be silent, morn or even, 
 To hill or valley, fountain or fresh shade, 
 Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise. 
 Hail, universal Lord! be bounteous still 
 To give us only good; and if the night 
 
142 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Have gather'd aught of evil, or concealed, 
 Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark." 
 
 So pray'd they innocent, and to their thoughts 
 Firm peace recover'd soon, and wonted calm. 
 On to their morning's rural work they haste, 
 Among sweet dews and flowers, where any row 
 Of fruit-trees over-woody reach'd too far 
 Their pamper' d boughs, and needed hands to check 
 Fruitless embraces; or they led the vine 
 To wed her elm; she, spoused, about him twines 
 Her marriageable arms, and with her brings 
 Her dower, the adopted clusters, to adorn 
 His barren leaves. Them thus employ'd beheld 
 With pity heaven's high King, and to him call'd 
 Raphael, the sociable spirit, that deign'd 
 To travel with Tobias, and secured 
 His marriage with the seven-times-wedded maid. 
 
 " Raphael," said he, " thou hear'st what stir on 
 
 earth, 
 
 Satan, from Hell 'scaped, through the darksome 
 Hath rais'd in Paradise; and how disturb'd [gulf, 
 This night the human pair; how he designs, 
 In them, at once to ruin all mankind. 
 Go therefore half this day; as friend with friend 
 Converse with Adam, in what bower or shade 
 Thou find'st him from the heat of noon retired 
 To respite his day-labour with repast, 
 Or with repose; and such discourse bring on, 
 As may advise him of his happy state; 
 Happiness in his power left free to will, 
 Left to his own free will, his will though free, 
 
PAEADISE LOST. 143 
 
 Yet mutable; whence warn him to beware 
 He swerve not, too secure; tell him withal 
 His danger, and from whom; what enemy, 
 Late fall'n himself from heaven, is plotting now 
 The fall of others from like state of bliss; 
 By violence? no, for that shall be withstood, 
 But by deceit and lies: this let him know, 
 Lest, wilfully transgressing, he pretend 
 Surprisal, unadrnonish'd, unforewarn'd." 
 
 So spake the Eternal Father, and fulfill'd 
 All justice: nor delay'd the winged saint, 
 After his charge received; but from among 
 Thousand celestial odours, where he stood 
 Veil'd with his gorgeous wings, upspringing light, 
 Flew through the midst of heaven: the angelic 
 
 quires, 
 
 On each hand parting, to his speed gave way 
 Through all the empyreal road; till, at the gate 
 Of heaven arrived, the gate self-open'd wide, 
 On golden hinges turning, as by work 
 Divine the sovereign Architect had framed. 
 From hence no cloud; or, to obstruct his sight, 
 Star interposed, however small, he sees 
 Not uuconform to other shining globes, 
 Earth, and the garden of God, with cedars crown'd 
 Above all hills: as when by night the glass 
 Of Galileo, less assured, observes 
 Imagined lands and regions in the moon: 
 Or pilot, from amidst the Cyclades 
 Delos or Samos first appearing, kens 
 A cloudy spot. Down thither prone in flight 
 
144 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 He speeds, and through the vast ethereal sky, 
 Sails between worlds and worlds, with steady wing; 
 Now on the polar winds, then, with quick fan, 
 Winnows the buxom air; till, within soar 
 Of towering eagles, to all the fowls he seems 
 A phoenix, gazed by all as that sole bird, 
 When, to enshrine his reliques in the Sun's 
 Bright temple, to Egyptian Thebes he flies. 
 At once on the eastern cliff of Paradise 
 He lights, and to his proper shape returns, 
 A seraph winged: six wings he wore, to shade 
 His lineaments divine; the pair that clad 
 Each shoulder broad came mantling o'er his breast. 
 With regal ornament; the middle pair 
 Girt like a starry zone his waist, and round 
 Skirted his loins and thighs with downy gold, 
 And colours dipp'd in Heaven; the third his feet 
 Shadow'd from either heel with feather'd mail, 
 Sky-tinctured grain. Like Maia's son he stood 
 And shook his plumes, that heavenly fragrance 
 
 fill'd 
 
 The circuit wide. Straight knew him all the bands 
 Of angels under watch; and to his state, 
 And to his message high, in honour rise: 
 For on some message high they guess'd him bound. 
 Their glittering ten ts he pass'd, and now is come 
 Into the blissful field, through groves of myrrh, 
 And flowering odours, cassia, nard, and balm; 
 A wilderness of sweets: for nature here 
 Wanton'd as in her prime, and play'd at will 
 Her virgin fancies, pouring forth more sweet, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 145 
 
 Wild above rule or art, enormous bliss. 
 
 Him through the spicy forest onward come 
 
 Adam discern'd, as in the door he sat 
 
 Of his cool bower, while now the mounted sun 
 
 Shot down direct his fervid rays, to warm [needs: 
 
 Earth's inmost womb, more warmth than Adam 
 
 And Eve within, due at her hour prepared 
 
 For dinner savoury fruits, of taste to please 
 
 True appetite, and not disrelish thirst 
 
 Of nectarous draughts between, from milky stream, 
 
 Berry, or grape: to whom thus Adam call'd: 
 
 " Haste hither, Eve, and worth thy sight behold, 
 Eastward among those trees, what glorious shape 
 Comes this way moving; seems another morn 
 Risen on mid-noon: some great behest from Heaven 
 To us perhaps he brings, and will vouchsafe 
 This day to be our guest. But go with speed, 
 And what thy stores contain bring forth, and pour 
 Abundance, fit to honour and receive 
 Our heavenly stranger: well we may afford 
 Our givers their own gifts, and large bestow, 
 Prom large bestow'd, where nature multiplies 
 Her fertile growth, and, by disburdening, grows 
 More fruitful; which instructs us not to spare." 
 
 To whom thus Eve: "Adam, earth's hallo w'd 
 
 mould, 
 
 Of God inspired; small store will serve, where store, 
 All seasons ripe for use, hangs on the stalk; 
 Save what by frugal storing firmness gains 
 To nourish, and superfluous moist consumes: 
 But I will haste, and from each bough and brake, 
 
146 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Each plant and juiciest gourd will pluck such 
 To entertain our angel-guest, as he, [choice 
 
 Beholding, shall confess that here on earth 
 God hath dispensed his bounties as in heaven." 
 
 So saying, with dispatchful looks in haste 
 She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent: 
 What choice to choose for delicacy best; 
 What order, so contrived as not to mix 
 Tastes, not well join'd, inelegant; but bring 
 Taste after taste upheld with kindliest change; 
 Bestirs her then, and from each tender stalk, 
 Whatever earth, all-bearing mother, yields 
 In India East or West, or middle shore 
 In Pontus or the Punic coast, or where 
 Alcinous reign'd; fruit of all kinds, in coat 
 Rough, or smooth rind, or bearded husk, or shell, 
 She gathers tribute large, and on the board 
 Heaps with unsparing hand. For drink the grape 
 She crushes, inoffensive must, and meaths 
 From many a berry, and from sweet kernels press'd, 
 She tempers dulcet creams; nor these to hold 
 Wants her fit vessels pure; then strews the ground 
 With rose and odours from the shrub unfumed. 
 
 Meanwhile our primitive great sire, to meet 
 His godlike guest, walks forth; without more train 
 Accompanied than with his own complete 
 Perfections: in himself was all his state; 
 More solemn than the tedious pomp that waits 
 On princes, when their rich retinue long 
 Of horses led, and grooms besmear'd with gold, 
 Dazzles the crowd, and sets them all agape. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 147 
 
 Nearer his presence, Adam, though not awed, 
 Yet with submiss approach and reverence meek, 
 As to a superior nature bowing low, 
 Thus said: " Native of heaven, for other place 
 None can than heaven such glorious shape contain; 
 Since, by descending from the thrones above, 
 Those happy places thou hast deign'd awhile 
 To want and honour these; vouchsafe with us 
 Two only, who yet by sovereign gift possess 
 This spacious ground, in yonder shady bower 
 To rest; and what the garden choicest bears 
 To sit and taste, till this meridian heat 
 Be over, and the sun more cool decline.' 
 
 Whom thus the angelic Virtue answer' d mild: 
 " Adam, I therefore came; nor art thou such 
 Created, or such place hast here to dwell, 
 As may not oft invite, though spirits of heaven, 
 To visit thee: lead on then where thy bower 
 O'ershades; for these mid-hours, till evening rise, 
 I have at will." So to the sylvan lodge 
 They came, that like Pomona's arbour smiled, 
 With floweret deck'd and fragrant smells; but Eve, 
 Undeck'd save with herself, more lovely far 
 Than wood-nymph, or the fairest goddess feign'd 
 Of three that in Mount Ida naked strove, 
 Stood to entertain her guest from heaven; no veil 
 She needed, virtue-proof; no thought infirm. 
 Alter'd her cheek. On whom the angel Hail 
 Bestow'd; the holy salutation used 
 Long after to bless'd Mary, second Eve: 
 
 " Hail, mother of mankind, whose fruitful womb 
 
148 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Shall fill the world more numerous with thy sons, 
 Than with these various fruits the trees of God 
 Have heap'd this table!" Eaised of grassy turf 
 Their table was, and mossy seats had round, 
 And on her ample square, from side to side, 
 All autumn piled; though spring and autumn here 
 Danced hand in hand. A while discourse they 
 No fear lest dinner cool; when thus began [hold ; 
 Our author: " Heavenly stranger, please to taste 
 These bounties, which our Nourisher, from whom 
 All perfect good, unmeasured out, descends, 
 To us for food and for delight hath caused 
 The earth to yield; unsavoury food perhaps 
 To spiritual natures; only this I know, 
 That one celestial Father gives to all." 
 
 To whom the angel: "Therefore what he gives, 
 (Whose praise be ever sung,) to man in part 
 Spiritual, may of purest spirits be found 
 No ingrateful food: and food alike those pure 
 Intelligential substances require, 
 As doth your rational; and both contain 
 Within them every lower faculty 
 Of sense, whereby they hear, see, smell, touch, taste, 
 Tasting concoct, digest, assimilate, 
 And corporeal to incorporeal turn. 
 For know, whatever was created needs 
 To be sustained and fed: of elements* 
 The grosser feeds the purer; earth the sea; 
 Earth and the sea feed air; the air those fires 
 Ethereal, and as lowest first the moon; 
 Whence in her visage round those spots, unpurged 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 149 
 
 Vapours not yet into her substance turn'd. 
 
 Nor doth the moon no nourishment exhale 
 
 From her moist continent to higher orbs. 
 
 The sun, that light imparts to all, receives 
 
 From all his alimental recompence, 
 
 In humid exhalations, and at even 
 
 Sups with the ocean. Though in heaven the trees 
 
 Of life ambrosial fruitage bear, and vines [morn 
 
 Yield nectar; though from off the boughs each 
 
 We brush mellifluous dews, and find the ground 
 
 Cover'd with pearly grain; yet God hath here 
 
 Varied his bounty so with new delights, 
 
 As may compare with heaven; and to taste 
 
 Think not I shall be nice." So down they sat, 
 
 And to their viands fell; nor seemingly 
 
 The angel, nor in mist, the common gloss 
 
 Of theologians; but with keen dispatch 
 
 Of real hunger, and concoctive heat 
 
 To transubstantiate: what redounds, transpires 
 
 Through spirits with ease; nor wonder, if by fire 
 
 Of sooty coal, the empiric alchemist 
 
 Can turn, or holds it possible to turn, 
 
 Metals of drossiest ore to perfect gold, 
 
 As from the mine." Meanwhile, at table Eve 
 
 Minister'd naked, and their flowing cups 
 
 With pleasant liquors crown'd: innocence 
 
 Deserving Paradise ! If ever, then, 
 
 Then had the sons of God excuse to have been 
 
 Enamour'd at that sight; but in those hearts 
 
 Love unlibidinous reign'd, nor jealousy 
 
 Was understood, the injur'd lover's hell. 
 
150 PARADISE 
 
 Thus, when with meats and drinks they had suf- 
 Not burden'd nature, sudden mind arose [fic'd 
 In Adam, not to let the occasion pass, 
 Given him by this great conference, to know 
 Of things above his world, and of their being 
 Who dwell in heaven, whose excellence he saw 
 Transcend his own so far; whose radiant forms, 
 Divine effulgence, whose high power, so far 
 Exceeded human; and his wary speech 
 Thus to the empyreal minister he fram'd: 
 
 " Inhabitant with God, now know I well 
 Thy favour, in this honour done to man, 
 Under whose lowly roof thou hast vouchsafed 
 To enter, and these earthly fruits to taste, 
 Food not of angels, yet accepted so, 
 As that more willingly thou couldst not seem 
 At heaven's high feasts to have fed; yet what corn- 
 
 To whom the winged hierarch replied: [pare?" 
 " Adam, One Almighty is, from whom 
 All things proceed, and up to him return, 
 If not depraved from good; created all 
 Such to perfection, one first matter all, 
 Endued with various forms, various degrees 
 Of substance, and, in things that live, of life; 
 But more refined, more spiritous, and pure, 
 As nearer to him placed, or nearer tending, 
 Each in their several active spheres assign'd, 
 Till body up to spirit work, in bounds 
 Proportion'd to each kind. So, from the root, 
 Springs lighter the green stalk, from thence the 
 leaves 
 
PARADISE LOST. 151 
 
 More airy; last the bright consummate flower 
 
 Spirits odorous breathes: flowers and their fruit, 
 
 Man's nourishment, by gradual scale sublimed. 
 
 To vital spirits aspire, to animal, 
 
 To intellectual; give both life and sense, 
 
 Fancy and understanding: whence the soul 
 
 Reason receives, and reason is her being, 
 
 Discursive, or intuitive: discourse 
 
 Is oftest yours, the latter most is ours, 
 
 Differing but in degree, of kind the same. 
 
 Wonder not then, what God for you saw good 
 
 If I refuse not, but convert, as you, 
 
 To proper substance. Time may come, when men 
 
 With angels may participate, and find 
 
 No inconvenient diet nor too light fare; 
 
 And from these corporal nutriments perhaps, 
 
 Your bodies may at last turn all to spirit, 
 
 Improved by tract of time, and, wing'd, ascend 
 
 Ethereal, as we; or may, at choice, 
 
 Here, or in heavenly Paradises dwell; 
 
 If ye be found obedient, and retain 
 
 Unalterably firm his love entire, 
 
 Whose progeny you are. Meanwhile, enjoy 
 
 Your fill, what happiness this happy state 
 
 Can comprehend, incapable of more." 
 
 To whom the patriarch of mankind replied. 
 " favourable spirit, propitious guest, 
 Well hast thou taught the way that might direct 
 Our knowledge, and the scale of nature set 
 From centre to circumference; whereon, 
 In contemplation of created things, 
 
152 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 By steps we may ascend to God. But say, 
 
 What meant that caution join'd, * If ye be found 
 
 Obedient V Can we want obedience then 
 
 To him, or possibly his love desert, 
 
 Who form'd us from the dust, and placed us here, 
 
 Full to the utmost of what bliss 
 
 Human desires can seek or apprehend 1 ?" 
 
 To whom the angel: " Son of heaven and earth 
 Attend: that thou art happy, owe to God; 
 That thou continuest such, owe to thyself, 
 That is, to thy obedience; therein stand. 
 This was that caution given thee; be advised. 
 God made thee perfect, not immutable; 
 And good he made thee; but to persevere 
 He left it in thy power; ordain'd thy will 
 By nature free, not over-ruled by fate 
 Inextricable, or strict necessity; 
 Our voluntary service he requires, 
 Not our necessitated; such with him 
 Finds no acceptance, nor can find; for how 
 Can hearts, not free, be tried whether they serve 
 Willing or no, who will but what they must 
 By destiny, and can no other choose? 
 Myself and all the angelic host, that stand 
 In sight of God, enthroned, our happy state 
 Hold, as you yours, while our obedience holds; 
 On other surety none; freely we serve, 
 Because we freely love, as in our will 
 To love or not; in this we stand or fall: 
 And some are fallen, to disobedience fallen, 
 And so from Heaven to deepest Hell; fall, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 153 
 
 From what high state of bliss, into what woe !" 
 To whom our great progenitor: " Thy words 
 Attentive, and with more delighted ear, 
 Divine instructor, I have heard, than when 
 Cherubic songs by night from neighbouring hills 
 Aerial music send: nor knew I not 
 To be both will and deed created free; 
 Yet that we never shall forget to love 
 Our Maker, and obey him whose command 
 Single is yet so just, my constant thoughts 
 Assured me, and still assure: though what thou 
 
 tell'st 
 
 Hath pass'd in Heaven, some doubt within me move, 
 But more desire to hear, if thou consent, 
 The full relation, which must needs be strange, 
 Worthy of sacred silence to be heard; 
 And we have yet large day; for scarce the sun 
 Hath finish' d half his journey, and scarce begins 
 His other half, in the great zone of heaven." 
 
 Thus Adam made request; and Raphael, 
 After short pause assenting, thus began: 
 
 " High matter thou enjoin'st me, prime of 
 Sad task and hard; for how shall I relate [men, 
 To human sense the invisible exploits 
 Of warring spirits? how, without remorse, 
 The ruin of so many, glorious once 
 And perfect while they stood 1 how last unfold 
 The secrets of another world, perhaps 
 Not lawful to reveal? yet for thy good 
 This is dispens'd; and what surmounts the reach 
 Of human sense, I shall delineate so, 
 
154 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 By likening spiritual to corporeal forms, 
 As may express them best; though, what, if Earth 
 Be but the shadow of Heaven, and things therein, 
 Each to other like, more than on earth is thought ? 
 
 " As yet this world was not; and Chaos wild 
 Reign'd where these heavens now roll, where earth 
 Upon her centre pois'd; when on a day, [now rests 
 (For time, though in eternity, applied 
 To motion, measures all things durable 
 By present, past, and future,) on such day 
 As Heaven's great year brings forth, the empyreal 
 Of angels, by imperial summons call'd, [host 
 
 Innumerable before the Almighty's throne 
 Forthwith from all the ends of Heaven appear'd 
 Under their hierarchs in orders bright; 
 Ten thousand thousand ensigns high advanced, 
 Standards and gonfalons 'twixt van and rear 
 Stream in the air, and for distinction serve 
 Of hierarchies, of orders, and degrees; 
 Or, in their glittering tissues bear emblazed 
 Holy memorials, acts of zeal and love 
 Recorded eminent. Thus when in orbs 
 Of circuit inexpressible they stood, 
 Orb within orb, the Father infinite, 
 By whom, in bliss imbosom'd, sat the Son, 
 Amidst, as from a flaming mount, whose top 
 Brightness had made invisible, thus spake: 
 
 " ' Hear, all ye angels, progeny of light, 
 Thrones, dominations, princedoms, virtues, powers, 
 Hear my decree, which unrevoked shall stand: 
 This day I have begot whom I declare 
 
PARADISE LOST. 155 
 
 My only Son, and on this holy hill 
 
 Him have anointed, whom ye now behold 
 
 At my right hand; your Head I him appoint; 
 
 And by myself have sworn, to him shall bow 
 
 All knees in Heaven, and shall confess him Lord. 
 
 Under his great vicegerent-reign abide 
 
 United, as one individual soul, 
 
 For ever happy : him who disobeys, 
 
 Me disobeys, breaks union; and that day, 
 
 Cast out from God and blessed vision, falls 
 
 Into utter darkness, deep ingulf d, his place 
 
 Ordain'd, without redemption, without end.' 
 
 " So spake the Omnipotent, and with his words 
 All seem'd well pleased; all seem'd, but were not 
 That day, as other solemn days, they spent [all. 
 In song and dance about the sacred hill; 
 Mystical dance, which yonder starry sphere 
 Of planets, and of fix'd, in all her wheels, 
 Resembles nearest, mazes intricate, 
 Eccentric, intervolved, yet regular 
 Then most, when most irregular they seem; 
 And in their motions harmony divine [ear 
 
 So smoothes her charming tones, that God's own 
 Listens delighted. Evening now approach'd; 
 (For we have also our evening and our morn, 
 We ours for change delectable, not need;) 
 Forthwith from dance to sweet repast they turn 
 Desirous; all in circles as they stood, 
 Tables are set, and on a sudden piled 
 With angels' food; and rubied nectar flows 
 In pearl, in diamond, and massy gold, 
 
156 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Fruit of delicious vines, the growth of Heaven. 
 On flowers reposed, and with fresh flowerets crown'd, 
 They eat, they drink, and in communion sweet 
 Quaff immortality and joy, secure 
 Of surfeit, where full measure only bounds 
 Excess, before the all-bounteous King, who shower'd 
 With copious hand, rejoicing in their joy. 
 Now when ambrosial night, with clouds exhaled 
 From that high mount of God, whence light and 
 
 shade 
 
 Spring both, the face of brightest Heaven had chang'd 
 To grateful twilight, (for night comes not there 
 In darker veil,) and roseate dews disposed 
 All but the unsleeping eyes of God to rest- 
 Wide over all the plain, and wider far 
 Than all this globose earth, in plain outspread, 
 (Such are the courts of God,) the angelic throng, 
 Dispersed in bands and files, their camp extend 
 By living streams among the trees of life, 
 Pavilion numberless and sudden rear'd, 
 Celestial tabernacles, where they slept [course, 
 Fann'd with cool winds; save those, who, in their 
 Melodious hymns about the sovereign throne 
 Alternate, all night long. But not so waked 
 Satan; so call him now; his former name 
 Is heard no more in Heaven: he, of the first, 
 If not the first arch-angel, great in power, 
 In favour and pre-eminence, yet fraught 
 With envy against the Son of God, that day 
 Honour'd by his great Father, and proclaim'd 
 Messiah King anointed, could not bear, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 157 
 
 Through pride, that sight, and thought himself im- 
 Deep malice thence conceiving, and disdain, [pair'd. 
 Soon as midnight brought on the dusky hour 
 Friendliest to sleep and silence, he resolv'd 
 With all his legions to dislodge, and leave 
 Unworshipp'd, unobey'd, the throne supreme, 
 Contemptuous; and his next subordinate 
 Awakening, thus to him in secret spake: 
 
 " ' Sleep'st thou? companion dear, what sleep can 
 Thy eye-lids? and remember'st what decree [close 
 Of yesterday, so late hath pass'd the lips 
 Of Heaven's Almighty 1 ? Thou to me thy thoughts 
 Wast wont, I mine to thee was wont to impart; 
 Both waking we were one; how then can now 
 Thy sleep dissent ? New laws thou seest impos'd; 
 New laws from him who reigns, new minds may 
 In us who serve, new counsels to debate [raise 
 What doubtful may ensue: more in this place 
 To utter is not safe. Assemble thou, 
 Of all those myriads which we lead, the chief; 
 Tell them, that by command, ere yet dim night 
 Her shadowy cloud withdraws, I am to haste, 
 And all who under me their banners wave, 
 Homeward, with flying march, where we possess 
 The quarters of the north; there to prepare 
 Fit entertainment to receive our King, 
 The great Messiah, and his new commands; 
 Who speedily, through all the hierarchies, 
 Intends to pass triumphant, and give laws.' 
 
 " So spake the false arch- angel, and infused 
 Bad influence into the unwary breast 
 
158 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Of his associates; he together calls, 
 Or several one by one, the regent powers, 
 Under him regent: tells, as he was taught, 
 That the Most High commanding, now ere night 
 Now ere dim night had disincumber'd Heaven, 
 The great hierarchal standard was to move; 
 Tells the suggested cause, and casts between 
 Ambiguous words and jealousies, to sound 
 Or taint integrity: but all obey'd 
 The wonted signal and superior voice 
 Of their great potentate; for great indeed 
 His name, and high was his degree in Heaven: 
 His countenance, as the morning star that guides 
 The starry flock, allured them; and with lies 
 Drew after him the third part of Heaven's host. 
 Meanwhile the Eternal eye, whose sight discerns 
 Abstrusest thoughts, from forth his holy mount, 
 And from within the golden lamps, that burn 
 Nightly before him, saw, without their light, 
 Rebellion rising, saw in whom, how spread 
 Among the sons of morn, what multitudes 
 Were banded to oppose his high decree; 
 And, smiling, to his only Son thus said: 
 
 " ' Son, thou in whom my glory I behold 
 In full resplendence, heir of all my might, 
 Nearly it now concerns us to be sure 
 Of our omnipotence, and with what arms 
 We mean to hold, what anciently we claim 
 Of deity or empire; such a foe 
 Is rising, who intends to erect his throne 
 Equal to ours, throughout the spacious north; 
 
PARADISE LOST. 1-39 
 
 Nor so content, hath in his thought to try, 
 In battle, what our power is, or our right 
 Let us advise, and to this hazard draw 
 With speed what force is left, and all employ 
 In our defence: lest unawares we lose 
 This our high place, our sanctuary, our hill,' 
 
 " To whom the Son, with calm, aspect and clear 
 Lightning divine, ineffable, serene, 
 Made answer: f Mighty Father, thou thy foes 
 Justly hast in derision, and, secure, 
 Laugh'st at their vain designs and tumults vain, 
 Matter to me of glory, whom their hate 
 Illustrates; when they see all regal power 
 Given me to quell their pride, and in event 
 Know whether I be dext'rous to subdue 
 Thy rebels, or be found the worst in Heaven.' 
 
 " So spake the Son: but Satan with his powers 
 Far was advanced, on winged speed, an host 
 Innumerable as the stars of night, 
 Or stars of morning, dew-drops, which the sun 
 Impearls on every leaf and every flower. 
 Regions they pass'd, the mighty regencies 
 Of seraphim, and potentates, and thrones, 
 In their triple degrees; regions, to which 
 All thy dominion, Adam, is no more 
 Than what this garden is to all the earth, 
 And all the sea, from one entire globose 
 Stretch'd into longitude; which having pass'd, 
 At length into the limits of the north 
 They came; and Satan to his royal seat, 
 High on a hill far blazing, as a mount 
 
160 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Eaised on a mount, with pyramids and towers, 
 From diamond quarries hewn, and rocks of gold; 
 The palace of great Lucifer, (so call 
 That structure in the dialect of men 
 Interpreted,) which not long after, he, 
 Affecting all equality with God, 
 In imitation of that mount whereon 
 Messiah was declar'd in sight of Heaven, 
 The Mountain of the Congregation call'd; 
 For thither he assembled all his train, 
 Pretending, so commanded, to consult 
 About the great reception of their King, 
 Thither to come; and with calumnious art 
 Of counterfeited truth thus held their ears: 
 
 " ' Thrones, dominations, princedoms, virtues. 
 If these magnific titles yet remain [powers 
 
 Not merely titular, since by decree 
 Another now hath to himself engross'd 
 All power, and us eclipsed under the name 
 Of .King anointed, for whom all this haste 
 Of midnight march, and hurried meeting here, 
 This only to consult how we may best, 
 With what may be devis'd of honours new, 
 Receive him coming to receive from us 
 Knee-tribute, yet unpaid, prostration vile ! 
 Too much to one ! but double how endured. 
 To one, and to his image now proclaimed 1 ? 
 But what if better counsels might erect 
 Our minds, and teach us to cast off this yoke? 
 Will ye submit your necks and choose to bend 
 The supple knee? ye will not, if I trust 
 
PARADISE LOST. 161 
 
 To know ye right, or if ye know yourselves 
 Natives and sons of heaven, possess'd before 
 By none, and if not equal all, yet free, 
 Equally free; for orders and degrees 
 Jar not with liberty, but well consist. 
 Who can in reason then, or right, assume 
 Monarchy over such as live by right 
 His equals? if in power and splendour less, 
 In freedom equal; or can introduce 
 Law and edict on us'? who without law, 
 Err not: much less for this to be our Lord, 
 And look for adoration, to the abuse 
 Of those imperial titles, which assert 
 Our being ordained to govern, not to serve.' 
 
 " Thus far his bold discourse, without control 
 Had audience, when among the seraphim, 
 Abdiel, than whom none with more zeal adored 
 The Deity, and divine commands obey'd, 
 Stood up, and in a flame of zeal severe 
 The current of his fury thus oppos'd: 
 
 "' argument blasphemous, false, and proud! 
 Words which no ear ever to hear in heaven 
 Expected, least of all from thee. ingrate, 
 In place thyself so high above thy peers, 
 Canst thou with impious obloquy condemn 
 The just decree of God, pronounced and sworn, 
 That to his only Son, by right endued 
 With regal sceptre, every soul in heaven 
 Shall bend the knee, and in that honour due. 
 Confess him rightful King? Unjust, thou say'st, 
 Flatly unjust, to bind with laws the free, 
 
162 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 And equal over equals to let reign, 
 
 One over all, with unsucceeded power. 
 
 Shalt thou give law to God? shalt thou dispute 
 
 With him the points of liberty, who made 
 
 Thee what thou art, and form'd the powers of 
 
 heaven 
 
 Such as he pleased, and circumscrib'd their being? 
 Yet, by experience taught, we know how good, 
 And of our good and of our dignity 
 How provident he is; how far from thought 
 To make us less, bent rather to exalt 
 Our happy state, under one head more near 
 United. But to grant it thee unjust, 
 That equal over equals monarch reign: 
 Thyself, though great and glorious, dost thou count, 
 Or all angelic nature join'd in one, 
 Equal to his Begotten Son 1 ? by whom, 
 As by his word, the mighty Father made 
 All things, even thee; and all the spirits of Heaven 
 By him created in their bright degrees; 
 Crown' d them with glory, and to their glory namV] 
 Thrones, dominations, princedoms, virtues, powers, 
 Essential powers; nor by his reign obscured, 
 But more illustrious made; since he the head 
 One of our number thus reduced becomes; 
 His laws our laws; all honour to him done 
 Returns our own. Cease then this impious rage, 
 And tempt not these; but hasten to appease 
 The incens'd Father, and the incens'd Son, 
 While pardon may be found, in time besought." 
 " So spake the fervent angel; but his zeal 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 1G3 
 
 None seconded, as out of season judged, 
 
 Or singular and rash; whereat rejoiced 
 
 The apostate, and, more haughty, thus replied: 
 
 " ' That we were form'd then, sayst thou? and the 
 Of secondary hand, by task transferred [work 
 
 From Father to his Son? strange point and new! 
 Doctrine which we would know whence learn'd: who 
 When this creation was? Remember'st thou [saw 
 Thy making, while the Maker gave thee being 1 ? 
 We know no time when we were not as now; 
 Know none before us; self-begot, self- raised 
 By our own quickening power, when fatal course 
 Had circled his full orb, the birth mature 
 Of this our native Heaven, ethereal sons. 
 Our puissance is our own; our own right hand 
 Shall teach us highest deeds, by proof to try 
 Who is our equal: then thou shalt behold 
 Whether by supplication we intend 
 Address, and to begirt the Almighty's throne 
 Beseeching, or besieging. This report, 
 These tidings carry to the anointed King; 
 And fly, ere evil intercept thy flight.' 
 
 " He said, and as the sound of waters deep, 
 Hoarse murmur echoed to his words applause 
 Through the infinite host; nor less for that 
 The flaming seraph fearless, though alone, 
 Encompass'd round with foes, thus answer'd bold 
 
 " < alienate from God, spirit accurs'd, 
 Forsaken of all good ! I see thy fall 
 Determined, and thy hapless crew involved, 
 In this perfidious fraud, contagion spread 
 
164 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Both of thy crime and punishment. Henceforth, 
 No more be troubled how to quit the yoke 
 Of God's Messiah; those indulgent laws 
 Will not be now vouchsafed; other decrees 
 Against thee are gone forth without recall, 
 That golden sceptre, which thou didst reject, 
 Is now an iron rod, to bruise and break 
 Thy disobedience. Well thou didst advise: 
 Yet not for thy advice or threats I fly 
 These wicked tents devoted; lest the wrath 
 Impendent, raging into sudden flame, 
 Distinguish not: for soon expect to feel 
 His thunder on thy head, devouring fire: 
 Then who created thee lamenting learn; 
 When, who can uncreate thee, thou shalt know." 
 
 So spake the seraph Abdiel, faithful found. 
 Among the faithless, faithful only he; 
 Among innumerable false, unmoved, 
 Unshaken, unseduced, unterrified, 
 His loyalty he kept, his love, his zeal: 
 Nor number nor example with him wrought 
 To swerve from truth, or change his constant mind, 
 Though single. From amidst them forth he pass'd, 
 Long way through hostile scorn, wh ich he sustain'd 
 Superior, nor of violence fear'd aught: 
 And, with retorted scorn, his back he turn'd 
 On those proud tow'rs, to swift destruction doomM 
 
 THE END OF BOOK V. 
 
PARADISE LOST 
 
 BOOK VI. 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Raphael continues to relate how Michael and Gabriel were 
 sent forth to battle against Satan and his angels. The first 
 
 fight described: Satan and his poivers retire under night: 
 he calls a council, invents devilish engines, which, in the 
 second day's fight, put Michael and his angels to some dis- 
 order; but they at length, pulling up mountains, overwhelm- 
 ed loth the force and machines of Satan: yet the tumult 
 not so ending, God on the third day sends Messiah his Son, 
 
 for wham he had reserved the glory of that victory. He, in 
 the power of his Father, coming to the place, and causing all 
 his legions to stand still on either side, with his chariot and 
 thunder driving into the midst of his enemies, pursues them, 
 unable to resist, towards the wall of Heaven; which opening, 
 they leap down with horror and confusion into the place of 
 punishment prepared for themin'the deep. Messiah returns 
 with triumph to his Father. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 BOOK VI. 
 
 " ALL night the dreadless angel, unpursued, 
 Through heaven's wide champaign held his way; 
 
 till morn, 
 
 Waked by the circling hours, with rosy hand 
 Unbarr'd the gates of light. There is a cave 
 Within the mount of God, fast by his throne, 
 Where light and darkness in perpetual round 
 Lodge and dislodge by turns, which makes through 
 Grateful vicissitude, like day and night; [heaven 
 Light issues forth, and, at the other door, 
 Obsequious darkness enters, till her hour [well 
 To veil the heaven; though darkness there might 
 Seem twilight here. And now went forth the Morn, 
 Such as in highest heaven array'd in gold 
 Empyreal; from before her vanish'd Night 
 Shot through with orient beams; when all the plain, 
 Cover'd with thick embattled squadrons bright, 
 Chariots and flaming arms, and fiery steeds, 
 Reflecting blaze on blaze, first met his view. 
 War he perceived, war in procinct; and found 
 Already known, what he for news had thought 
 
168 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 To have reported; gladly then he mixed 
 Among those friendly pow'rs, who him receiv'd 
 With joy and acclamations loud, that one, 
 That of so many myriads fall'n, yet one 
 Return'd not lost. On to the sacred. hill 
 They led him high applauded, and present 
 Before the seat supreme; from whence a voice 
 From midst a golden cloud, thus mild was heard: 
 " ' Servant of God, well done, well hast thou fought 
 The better fight, who single hast maintain'd 
 Against revolted multitudes the cause 
 Of truth, in word mightier than they in arms; 
 And for the testimony of truth hast borne 
 Universal reproach, far worse to bear 
 Than violence; for this was all thy care, 
 To stand approved in sight of God, though worlds 
 Judged thee perverse; the easier conquest now 
 Remains thee, aided by this host of friends, 
 Back on thy foes more glorious to return, 
 Than scorn'd thou didst depart, and to subdue 
 By force, who reason for their law refuse; 
 Eight reason for their law, and for their king 
 Messiah, who by right of merit reigns. 
 Go, Michael, of celestial armies prince, 
 And thou, in military prowess next, 
 Gabriel, lead forth to battle these my sons 
 Invincible, lead forth my armed saints, 
 By thousands and by millions ranged for fight; 
 Equal in numbers to that godless crew 
 Rebellious; them with fire and hostile arms 
 Fearless assault, and, to the brow of heaven 
 
PARADISE LOST. 169 
 
 ; 
 
 Pursuing, drive them out from God and bliss, 
 Into their place of punishment, the gulf 
 Of Tartarus, which ready opens wide 
 His fiery chaos to receive their fall.' 
 
 "So spake the Sovereign voice; and clouds began 
 To darken all the hill, and smoke to roll 
 In dusky wreaths, reluctant flames, the sign 
 Of wrath awaked; nor with less dread the loud 
 Ethereal trumpet from on high 'gan blow: 
 At which command the powers militant, 
 That stood for heaven, in mighty quadrate join'd 
 Of union irresistible, mov'd on 
 In silence their bright legions, to the sound 
 Of instrumental harmony, that breathed 
 Heroic ardour to adventurous deeds 
 Under their God-like leaders, in the cause 
 Of God and his Messiah. On they move, 
 Indissolubly firm; nor obvious hill, 
 Nor straitening vale, nor wood, nor stream divides 
 Their perfect ranks; for high above the ground 
 Their march was, and the passive air upbore 
 Their nimble tread, as when the total kind 
 Of birds, in orderly array on wing, 
 Came summon'd over Eden to receive 
 Their names of thee : so over many a tract 
 Of heaven they march'd, and many a province wide, 
 Tenfold the length of this terrene. At last, 
 Far in the horizon, to the north, appeared 
 From skirt to skirt a fiery region, stretch'd 
 In battailous aspect, and, nearer view, 
 Bristled with upright beams innumerable 
 
170 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Of rigid spears, and helmets throng'd, and shields 
 Various, with boastful argument portray'd, 
 The handed pow'rs of Satan hasting on 
 With furious expedition; for they ween'd 
 That self-same day, by fight or by surprise. 
 To win the mount of God, and on his throne 
 To set the envier of his state, the proud 
 Aspirer: but their thoughts proved fond and vain 
 In the midway. Though strange to us it seem'd 
 At first, that angel should with angel war, 
 And in fierce hostling meet, who wont to meet 
 So oft in festivals of joy and love 
 Unanimous, as sons of one great Sire 
 Hymning the Eternal Father. But the shout 
 Of battle now began, and rushing sound 
 Of onset ended soon each milder thought. 
 High in the midst, exalted as a god, 
 The apostate in his sun-bright chariot sat, 
 Idol of majesty divine, enclos'd 
 With flaming cherubim and golden shields; 
 Then lighted from his gorgeous throne, for now 
 'Twixt host and host but narrow space was left, 
 A dreadful interval; and front to front 
 Presented stood in terrible array 
 Of hideous length. Before the cloudy van, 
 On the rough edge of battle, ere it join'd, 
 Satan, with vast and haughty strides advanced, 
 Came towering, arm'd in adamant and gold. 
 Abdiel that sight endured not, where he stood 
 Among the mightiest, bent on highest deeds, 
 And thus his own undaunted heart explorer ; 
 
PARADISE LOST. 171 
 
 "'0 Heaven! that such resemblance of the 
 Should yet remain, where faith and realty [Highest 
 Remain not: wherefore should not strength and 
 
 might 
 
 There fail, where virtue fails'? or weakest prove 
 Where boldest, though to sight unconquerable? 
 His puissance, trusting in the Almighty's aid, 
 I mean to try, whose reason I have tried 
 Unsound and false: nor is it aught but just, 
 That he, who in debate of truth hath won, 
 Should win in arms, in both disputes alike 
 Victor; though brutish that contest and foul, 
 When reason hath to deal with force, yet so 
 Most reason is, that reason overcome.' 
 
 " So pondering, and, from his armed peers 
 Forth stepping opposite, half-way he met 
 His daring foe, at this prevention more 
 Incensed, and thus securely him defied: [reach'd 
 
 "' Proud, art thou met? thy hope was to have 
 The height of thy aspiring unopposed 
 The throne of God unguarded, and his side 
 Abandon'd, at the terror of thy power 
 Or potent tongue: fool ! not to think how vain 
 Against the Omnipotent to rise in arms; 
 Who out of smallest things could, without end, 
 Have raised incessant armies to defeat 
 Thy folly; or with solitary hand 
 Keaching beyond all limit, at one blow, 
 Unaided, could have finish'd thee, and whelm'd 
 Thy legions under darkness: but thou seest 
 All are not of thy train; there be, who faith 
 
172 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Prefer, and piety to God, though then 
 To thee not visible, when I alone 
 Seem'd in thy world erroneous to dissent 
 From all: my sect thou seest; now learn too late, 
 How few sometimes may know, when thousands err.' 
 " Whom the grand foe, with scornful eye askance, 
 Thus answered: ' 111 for thee, but in wish'd hour 
 Of my revenge first sought for, thou return'st 
 From flight, seditious angel! to receive 
 Thy merited reward, the first essay 
 Of this right hand provoked, since first that tongue, 
 Inspired with contradiction, durst oppose 
 A third part of the gods, in synod met, 
 Their deities to assert; who, while they feel 
 Vigour divine within them, can allow 
 Omnipotence to none. But well thou com'st 
 Before thy fellows, ambitious to win 
 From me some plume, that my success may show 
 Destruction to the rest: this pause between 
 (Unanswer'd lest thou boast,) to let thee know, 
 At first I thought that liberty and heaven 
 To heavenly souls, had been all one; but now 
 I see that most through sloth had rather serve, 
 Ministering spirits, trained up in feast and song: 
 Such hast thou arm'd, the minstrelsy of Heaven 
 Servility with freedom to contend, 
 As both their deeds compar'd this day shall prove/ 
 
 " To whom in brief thus Abdiel stern replied: 
 * Apostate, still thou err'st, nor end wilt find 
 Of erring, from the path of truth remote: 
 Unjustly thou deprav'st it with the name 
 
PARADISE LOST. 173 
 
 Of servitude, to serve whom God ordains, 
 Or Nature; God and Nature bid the same, 
 When he who rules is worthiest, and excels 
 Them whom he governs. This is servitude, 
 To serve the unwise, or him who hath rebell'd 
 Against his worthier, as thine now serve thee, 
 Thyself not free, but to thyself en thrall' d; 
 Yet lewdly dar'st our ministering upbraid. 
 Reign thou in Hell, thy kingdom; let me serve 
 In Heaven God ever blest, and his divine 
 Behests obey, worthiest to be obey'd: 
 Yet chains in Hell, not realms, expect; meanwhile, 
 From me return'd, as erst thou saidst, from flight, 
 This greeting on thy impious crest receive.' 
 " So saying, a noble stroke he lifted high, 
 Which hung not, but so swift with tempest fell, 
 On the proud crest of Satan, that no sight, 
 Nor motion of swift thought, less could his shield, 
 Such ruin intercept: ten paces huge 
 He back recoil'd; the tenth on bended knee, 
 His massy spear upstay'd; as if on earth, 
 Winds under ground, or waters forcing way, 
 Sidelong, had push'd a mountain from his seat, 
 Half-sunk with all his pines. Amazement seiz'd 
 The rebel thrones, but greater rage, to see 
 Thus foil'd their mightiest; ours joy fill'd,and shout, 
 Presage of victory, and fierce desire 
 Of battle: whereat Michael bid sound 
 The archangel trumpet; through the vast of Heaven 
 It sounded, and the faithful armies rung 
 Hosanna to the Highest: nor stood at gaze 
 
174 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 The adverse legions, nor less hideous join'd 
 The horrid shock. Now storming fury rose, 
 And clamour such as heard in heaven till now 
 Was never; arms on armour clashing bray'd 
 Horrible discord, and the madding wheels 
 Of brazen chariots rag'd; dire was the noise 
 Of conflict; over head the dismal hiss 
 Of fiery darts in flaming volleys flew, 
 And flying vaulted either host with fire. 
 So under fiery cope together rush'd 
 Both battles main, with ruinous assault 
 And inextinguishable rage. All Heaven 
 Resounded, and had earth been then, all earth 
 Had to her centre shook. What wonder 1 ? when 
 Millions of fierce encountering angels fought 
 On either side, the least of whom could wield 
 These elements, and arm him with the force 
 Of all their regions: how much more of power 
 Army against army numberless to raise 
 Dreadful combustion warring, and disturb, 
 Though not destroy, their happy native seat; 
 Had not the Eternal King, Omnipotent, 
 From the stronghold of Heaven high, over-rul'd 
 And limited their might; though number'd such, 
 As each divided legion might have seem'd 
 A numerous host; in strength each armed hand 
 A legion; led in fight, yet leader seem'd 
 Each warrior single, as in chief; expert 
 When to advance or stand, or turn the sway 
 Of battle; open when, and when to close 
 The ridges of grim war; no thought of flight, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 175 
 
 None of retreat, no unbecoming deed 
 That argued fear; each on himself relied,, 
 As only in his arm the moment lay 
 Of victory. Deeds of eternal fame 
 Were done, but infinite; for wide was spread 
 That war and various; sometimes on firm ground 
 A standing fight, then, soaring on main wing, 
 Tormented all the air; all air seem'd then 
 Conflicting fire. Long time in even scale 
 The battle hung; till Satan, who that day 
 Prodigious power had shown, and met in arms 
 No equal, ranging through the dire attack 
 Of fighting seraphim confus'd, at length 
 Saw where the sword of Michael smote, and fell'd 
 Squadrons at once; with huge two-handed sway 
 Brandish'd aloft, the horrid edge came down 
 Wide wasting: such destruction to withstand 
 He hasted, and oppos'd the rocky orb 
 Of tenfold adamant, his ample shield, 
 A vast circumference. At his approach, 
 The great archangel from his warlike toil 
 Surceased; and glad, as hoping here to end 
 Intestine war in Heaven, the arch-foe subdu'd 
 Or captive dragg'd in chains, with hostile frown 
 And visage all inflam'd, first thus began: 
 
 " ' Author of evil, unknown till thy revolt, 
 Unnam'd in Heaven, now plenteous, as thou seest, 
 These acts of hateful strife, hateful to all, 
 Though heaviest by just measure on thyself, 
 And thy adherents: how hast thou disturb'd 
 Heaven's blessed peace, and into nature brought 
 
176 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Misery, uncreated till the crime 
 
 Of thy rebellion 1 how hast thou instill'd 
 
 Thy malice into thousands, once upright 
 
 And faithful, now prov'd false ! But think not here 
 
 To trouble holy rest; Heaven casts thee out 
 
 From all her confines: Heaven, the seat of bliss, 
 
 Brooks not the works of violence and war. 
 
 Hence then, and evil go with thee along, 
 
 Thy offspring, to the place of evil, Hell, 
 
 Thou and thy wicked crew; there mingle broils, 
 
 Ere this avenging sword begin thy doom, 
 
 Or some more sudden vengeance, wing'd from God, 
 
 Precipitate thee with augmented pain.' 
 
 " So spake the prince of angels; to whom thus 
 The adversary: 'Nor think thou with wind 
 Of airy threats to awe whom yet with deeds 
 Thou canst not. Hast thou turn'd the least of these 
 To flight? or if to fall, but that they rise 
 Unvanquish'd, easier to transact with me [threats 
 That thou shouldst hope, imperious, and with 
 To chase me hence ] Err not, that so shall end 
 The strife which thou call'st evil, but we style 
 The strife of glory; which we mean to win, 
 Or turn this Heaven itself into the Hell 
 Thou fablest; here however to dwell free, 
 If not to reign: meanwhile thy utmost force, 
 And join him named Almighty to thy aid, 
 I fly not, but have sought thee far and nigh.' 
 
 " They ended parle, and both addressed for fight 
 Unspeakable; for who, though with the tongue 
 Of angels, can relate, or to what things 
 
PARADISE LOST. 177 
 
 Liken on earth conspicuous, that may lift 
 
 Human imagination to such height 
 
 Of godlike power ? for likest gods they seem'd, 
 
 Stood they or moved, in stature, motion, arms, 
 
 Fit to decide the empire of great Heaven. 
 
 Now waved their fiery swords, and in the air 
 
 Made horrid circles; two broad suns their shields 
 
 Blaz'd opposite, while expectation stood 
 
 In horror: from each hand with speed retired, 
 
 Where erst was thickest fight, the angelic throng, 
 
 And left large field, unsafe within the wind 
 
 Of such commotion; such as, to set forth 
 
 Great things by small, if nature's concord broke, 
 
 Among the constellations war were sprung, 
 
 Two planets, rushing from aspect malign 
 
 Of fiercest opposition, in mid-sky 
 
 Should combat, and their jarring spheres confound. 
 
 Together both, with next to almighty arm 
 
 Uplifted imminent, one stroke they aim'd 
 
 That might determine, and not need repeat 
 
 As not of power at once; nor odds appear'd 
 
 In might or swift prevention: but the sword 
 
 Of Michael, from the armoury of God 
 
 Was given him temper'd so, that neither keen 
 
 Nor solid might resist that edge: it met 
 
 The sword of Satan with steep force to smite 
 
 Descending, and in half cut sheer; nor stay'd, 
 
 But with swift wheel reverse, deep entering, shared 
 
 All his right side. Then Satan first knew pain, 
 
 And writhed him to and fro convolved; so sore 
 
 The grinding sword, with discontinuous wound, 
 
 M 
 
178 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Pass'd through him; but the ethereal substance 
 Not long divisible; and from the gash, [clos'd, 
 A stream of nectarous humour flow'd 
 Sanguine, such as celestial spirits may bleed, 
 And all his armour stain'd, ere while so bright. 
 Forthwith on all sides to his aid was run 
 By angels many and strong, who interpsoed 
 Defence; while others bore him on their shields 
 Back to his chariot, where it stood retired 
 From off the files of war: there they him laid 
 Gnashing for anguish, and despite, and shame, 
 To find himself not matchless, and his pride 
 Humbled by such rebuke; so far beneath 
 His confidence to equal God in power. 
 Yet soon he heal'd; for spirits that live throughout 
 Vital in every part, not as frail man 
 In entrails, heart or head, liver or reins, 
 Cannot but by annihilating die; 
 Nor in their liquid texture mortal wound 
 Receive, no more than can the fluid air: 
 All heart they live, all head, all eye, all ear, 
 All intellect, all sense; and, as they please, 
 They limb themselves, and colour, shape, or size 
 Assume, as likes them best, condense or rare. 
 
 " Meanwhile in other parts like deeds deserv'd 
 Memorial, where the might of Gabriel fought, 
 And with fierce ensigns pierced the deep array 
 Of Moloch, furious king; who him defied, 
 And at his chariot-wheels to drag him bound 
 Threaten'd, nor from the Holy One of Heaven 
 Refrain'd his tongue blasphemous; but anon, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 179 
 
 Down cloven to the waist, with shatter'd arras 
 
 And uncouth pain fled bellowing. On each wing, 
 
 Uriel, and Raphael, his vaunting foe, 
 
 Though huge, and in a rock of diamond arm'd, 
 
 Vanquish'd Adramalech and Asmodai, 
 
 Two potent thrones, that to be less than gods 
 
 Disdain' d, but meaner thoughts learn'd in their 
 
 flight, 
 
 Mangled with ghastly wounds, through plate and 
 Nor stood unmindful Abdiel to annoy [mail. 
 
 The atheist crew, but with redoubled blow 
 Ariel, and Arioch, and the violence 
 Of Ramiel, scorch'd and blasted, overthrew. 
 I might relate of thousands, and their names 
 Eternize here on earth; but those elect 
 Angels, contented with their fame in Heaven, 
 Seek not the praise of men: the other sort, 
 In might though wondrous and in acts of war, 
 Nor of renown less eager, yet by doom 
 Cancell'd from Heaven and sacred memory, 
 Nameless in dark oblivion let them dwell; 
 For strength, from truth divided and from just, 
 Illaudable, nought merits but dispraise 
 And ignominy; yet to glory aspires, 
 Vain-glorious, and through infamy seeks fame: 
 Therefore eternal silence be their doom, [swerv'd, 
 " And now, their mightiest quell'd, the battle 
 With many an inroad gored: deformed rout 
 Enter'd, and foul disorder; all the ground 
 With shiver'd armour strown, and on a heap 
 Chariot and charioteer lay overturn'd, 
 
180 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 And fiery foaming steeds; what stood, recoil'd 
 O'erwearied, through the faint Satanic host, 
 Defensive scarce, or with pale fear surprised, 
 Then first with fear surprised, and sense of pain, 
 Fled ignominious, to such evil brought 
 By sin of disobedience till that hour, 
 Not liable to fear, or flight, or pain. 
 Far otherwise the inviolable saints, 
 In cubic phalanx firm, advanced entire, 
 Invulnerable, impenetrably arm'd; 
 Such high advantages their innocence 
 Gave them above their foes; not to have sinn'd, 
 Not to have disobey'd; in fight they stood 
 Unwearied, unobnoxious to be pain'd [moved. 
 By wound, though from their place by violence 
 " Now Night her course began, and, over Heaven 
 Inducing darkness, grateful truce imposed, 
 And silence on the odious din of war: 
 Under her cloudy covert both retired, 
 Victor and vanquish'd: on the foughten field 
 Michael and his angels prevalent 
 Encamping, placed in guard their watches round, 
 Cherubic waving fires: on the other part, 
 Satan with his rebellious disappear'd, 
 Far in the dark dislodg'd; and, void of rest, 
 His potentates to council call'd by night, 
 And in the midst thus undismay'd began: 
 
 " ' now in danger tried, now known in arms 
 Not to be overpower'd, companions dear, 
 Found worthy not of liberty alone, 
 Too mean pretence! but what we more aflfect, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 181 
 
 Honour, dominion, glory, and renown; 
 
 Who have sustained one day in doubtful fight, 
 
 (And if one day, why not eternal days'?) 
 
 What heaven's Lord had powerfullest to send 
 
 Against us, from about his throne, and judged 
 
 Sufficient to subdue us to his will, 
 
 But proves not so: then fallible, it seems, 
 
 Of future we may deem him, though till now 
 
 Omniscient thought. True is, less firmly arm'd. 
 
 Some disadvantage we endured, and pain, 
 
 Till now not known, but known, as soon contemn'd, 
 
 Since now we find this our empyreal form 
 
 Incapable of mortal injury, 
 
 Imperishable; and, though pierced with wound. 
 
 Soon closing, and by native vigour heal'd. 
 
 Of evil then so small, as easy think 
 
 The remedy; perhaps more valid arms, 
 
 Weapons more violent, when next we meet, 
 
 May serve to better us, and worse our foes; 
 
 Or equal what between us made the odds, 
 
 In nature none: if other hidden cause 
 
 Left them superior, while we can preserve 
 
 Unhurt our minds, and understanding sound, 
 
 Due search and consultation will disclose.' 
 
 " He sat; and in the assembly next upstood 
 Nisroch, of principalities the prime: 
 As one he stood escaped from cruel fight, 
 Sore toil'd, his riven arms to havoc hewn; 
 And, cloudy in aspect, thus answ'ring spake: 
 
 " ' Deliverer from new lords, leader to free 
 Enjoyment of our right as gods; yet hard 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 For gods, and too unequal work we find, 
 Against unequal arms to fight in pain, 
 Against unpain'd, impassive; from which evil 
 Ruin must needs ensue: for what avails [pain 
 Valour or strength, though matchless, quell'd with 
 Which all subdues, and makes remiss the hands 
 Of mightiest ? Sense of pleasure we may well 
 Spare out of life perhaps, and not repine, 
 But live content, which is the calmest life: 
 But pain is perfect misery, the worst 
 Of evils, and, excessive, overturns 
 All patience. He who therefore can invent, 
 With what more forcible we may offend 
 Our yet unwounded enemies, or arm 
 Ourselves with like defence, to me deserves 
 No less than for deliverance what we owe.' 
 
 " Whereto, with look composed, Satan replied: 
 ' Not un in vented that, which thou aright 
 Believest so main to our success, I bring. 
 Which of us, who beholds the bright surface 
 Of this ethereous mould whereon we stand, 
 This continent of spacious Heaven, adorn'd 
 With plant, fruit, flower ambrosial, gems, and gold; 
 Whose eye so superficially surveys 
 These things, as not to mind from whence they grow, 
 Deep under ground, materials dark and crude, 
 Of spirituous and fiery spume, till touch'd 
 With Heaven's ray, and tempered, they shoot forth 
 So beauteous, opening to the ambient light'? 
 These in their dark nativity the deep 
 Shall yield us, pregnant with infernal flame; 
 
PARADISE LOST. 183 
 
 Which into hollow engines long and round 
 Thick-ramm'd, at the other bore with touch of fire 
 Dilated, and infuriate, shall send forth 
 From far, with thundering noise, among our foes 
 Such implements of mischief, as shall dash 
 To pieces and o'erwhelm whatever stands 
 Adverse; that they shall fear we have disarm'd 
 The Thunderer of his only dreaded bolt. 
 Nor long shall be our labour; yet ere dawn, 
 Effect shall end our wish. Meanwhile revive; 
 Abandon fear; to strength and counsel join'd, 
 Think nothing hard, much less to be despair'd.' 
 
 " He ended; and his words their drooping cheer 
 Enlighten'd, and their languish'd hope reviv'd: 
 The invention all admir'd, and each, how he 
 To be the inventor miss'd; so easy it seem'd, 
 Once found, which yet unfound most would have 
 Impossible: yet, haply, of thy race [thought 
 
 In future days, if malice should abound, 
 Some one, intent on mischief, or inspired 
 With devilish machination, might devise 
 Like instrument to plague the sons of men 
 For sin, on war and mutual slaughter bent. 
 Forthwith from council to the work they flew; 
 None arguing stood; innumerable hands 
 Were ready; in a moment up they turned 
 Wide the celestial soil, and saw beneath 
 The originals of nature in their crude 
 Conception; sulphurous and nitrous foam 
 They found, they mingled, and with subtle art 
 Concocted and adusted, they reduced 
 
184: PARADISE LOST. 
 
 To blackest grain, and into store conveyed. 
 Part hidden veins digg'd up (nor hath this earth 
 Entrails unlike,) of mineral and stone, 
 Whereof to found their engines and their balls 
 Of missive ruin; part incentive reed 
 Provide, pernicious with one touch to fire. 
 So all, ere day-spring, under conscious night, 
 Secret they finish'd, and in order set, 
 With silent circumspection, unespied. 
 
 " Now when fair morn orient in Heaven ap- 
 Up rose the victor-angels, and to arms [pear'd, 
 The matin trumpet sung: in arms they stood 
 Of golden panoply, refulgent host, 
 Soon banded; others from the dawning hills 
 Look'd round, and scouts each coast light-armed 
 Each quarter; to descry the distant foe, [scour, 
 Where lodged, or whither fled; or if for fight, 
 In motion or in halt: him soon they met 
 Under spread ensigns, moving nigh, in slow 
 But firm battalion. Back with speediest sail, 
 Zophiel, of cherubim the swiftest wing, 
 Came flying, and in mid air aloud thus cried, 
 
 " ' Arm, warriors, arm for fight; the foe at hand, 
 Whom fled we thought, will save us long pursuit. 
 This day, fear not his flight; so thick a cloud 
 He comes: and settled in his face, I see 
 Sad resolution, and secure. Let each 
 His adamantine coat gird well, and each 
 Fit well his helm, gripe fast his orbed shield. 
 Borne even on high; for this day will pour down, 
 If I conjecture ought, no drizzling shower, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 185 
 
 Bufc rattling storm of arrows, barb'd with fire: 
 
 "So warn'd he them, aware themselves; and 
 In order, quit of all impediment, [soon 
 
 Instant without disturb they took alarm, 
 And onward moved embattled: when behold, 
 Not distant far, with heavy pace, the foe 
 Approaching gross and huge; in hollow cube 
 Training his devilish enginery, impaled 
 On every side with shadowing sqadrons deep, 
 To hide the fraud. At interview both stood 
 A while, but suddenly at head appear'd 
 Satan, and thus was heard commanding loud . 
 
 "' Vanguard, to right and left the front unfold; 
 That all may see, who hate us, how we seek 
 Peace and composure, and with open breast 
 Stand ready to receive them, if they like 
 Our overture, and turn not back perverse: 
 But that I doubt; however, witness Heaven; 
 Heaven, witness thou anon, while we discharge 
 Freely our part; ye, who appointed stand, 
 Do as you have in charge, and briefly touch 
 What we propound, and loud that all may hear.' 
 
 " So scoffing in ambiguous words, he scarce 
 Had ended, when to right and left the front 
 Divided, and to either flank retir'd: 
 Which to our eyes discover'd, new and strange, 
 A triple-mounted row of pillars, laid 
 On wheels; (for like to pillars most they seem'd, 
 Or hollow 1 d bodies, made of oak or fir, 
 With branches lopp'd in wood or mountain fell'd;) 
 Brass, iron, stony mould, had not their mouths 
 
186 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 With hideous orifice, gap'd on us wide, 
 
 Portending hollow truce; at each behind 
 
 A seraph stood, and in his hand a reed 
 
 Stood waving, tipp'd with fire; while we, suspense, 
 
 Collected stood, within our thoughts amus'd; 
 
 Not long; for sudden all at once their reeds 
 
 Put forth, and to a narrow vent applied 
 
 With nicest touch. Immediate in a flame, 
 
 But soon obscured with smoke, all heaven appeared, 
 
 From those deep-throated engines belch'd, whose 
 
 Embowell'd with outrageous noise the air, [roar 
 
 And all her entrails tore, disgorging foul 
 
 Their devilish glut, chain'd thunderbolts, and hail 
 
 Of iron globes, which on the victor host 
 
 Levell'd, with such impetuous fury smote, 
 
 That whom they hit, none on their feet might stand, 
 
 Though standing else as rocks, but down they fell 
 
 By thousands, angel on archangel roll'd; 
 
 The sooner for their arms: unarm' d they might 
 
 Have easily, as spirits, evaded swift 
 
 By quick contraction or remove; but now 
 
 Foul dissipation follow'd, and forced rout; 
 
 Nor served it to relax their serried files. 
 
 What should they do ? If on they rush'd, repulse 
 
 Repeated, and indecent overthrow 
 
 Doubled, would render them yet more despis'd, 
 
 And to their foes a laughter; for in view 
 
 Stood rank'd of seraphim another row, 
 
 In posture to displode their second tire 
 
 Of thunder; back defeated to return 
 
 They worse abhorr'd. Satan beheld their plight, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 187 
 
 And to his mates thus in derision call'd: [proud? 
 
 " ' friends, why come not on these victors 
 Erewhile they fierce were coming; and when we 
 To entertain them fair with open front [terms 
 And breast, (what could we more 1 ?) propounded 
 Of composition, straight they chang'd their minds, 
 Flew off, and into strange vagaries fell, 
 As they would dance; yet for a dance they seenrd 
 Somewhat extravagant and wild, perhaps 
 For joy of offered peace: but I suppose, 
 If our proposals once again were heard, 
 We should compel them to a quick result.' 
 
 " To whom thus Belial, in like gamesome mood : 
 ' Leader, the terms we sent were terms of weight, 
 Of hard contents, and full of force urged home; 
 Such as we might perceive amused them all, 
 Arid stumbled many; who receives them right, 
 Had need from head to foot well understand : 
 Not understood, this gift they had; besides 
 They show us when our foes walk not upright.' 
 
 " So they, among themselves, in pleasant vein 
 Stood scoffing, heighten'd in their thoughts beyond 
 All doubt of victory; eternal Might 
 To match with their inventions they presumed 
 So easy, and of his thunder made a scorn, 
 And all his host derided, while they stood 
 A while in trouble: but they stood not long; 
 Rage prompted them at length, and found them 
 Against such hellish mischief, fit to oppose, [arms, 
 Forthwith, behold the excellence, the power, 
 Which God hath in his mighty angels plac'd, 
 
188 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Their arms away they threw, and to the hills, 
 
 (For earth hath this variety from heaven, 
 
 Of pleasure situate in hill and dale.) 
 
 Light as the lightning-glimpse they ran, they flew; 
 
 From their foundations loosening too and fro, 
 
 They pluck'd the seated hills, with all their load, 
 
 Rocks, waters, woods, and by the shaggy tops 
 
 Uplifting, bore them in their hands. Amaze, 
 
 Be sure, and terror, seiz'd the rebel host, 
 
 When coining towards them so dread they saw 
 
 The bottom of the mountains upward turn'd; 
 
 Till on those cursed engines' triple row 
 
 They saw them whelm'd, and all their confidence 
 
 Under the weight of mountains buried deep; 
 
 Themselves invaded next, and on their heads, 
 
 Main promontories flung, which in the air 
 
 Came shadowing, and oppress'd whole legions arm'd. 
 
 Their armour help'd their harm, cru sh'd in and br uis'd 
 
 Into their sustance pent, which wrought them pain 
 
 Implacable, and many a dolorous groan; 
 
 Long struggling underneath, ere they could wind 
 
 Out of such prison, though spirits of purest light, 
 
 Purest at first, now gross by sinning grown. 
 
 The rest, in imitation, to like arms 
 
 Betook them, and the neighbouring hills uptore; 
 
 So hills amid the air encounter'd hills, 
 
 HuiTd to and fro with jaculation dire, 
 
 That under ground they fought, in dismal shade; 
 
 Infernal noise! War seem'd a civil game 
 
 To this uproar; horrid confusion heap'd 
 
 Upon confusion rose: and now all Heaven 
 
PARADISE LOST. 189 
 
 Had gone to wrack, with ruin overspread, 
 Had not the almighty Father, where he sits 
 Shrin'd in his sanctuary of Heaven secure, 
 Consulting on the sum of things, foreseen 
 This tumult, and permitted all, advised: 
 That his great purpose he might so fulfil, 
 To honour his anointed Son, avenged 
 Upon his enemies; and to declare 
 All power on him transferr'd: whence to his Son, 
 The assessor of his throne, he thus began: 
 " ' Effulgence of my glory, Son belov'd; 
 Son, in whose face invisible is beheld 
 Visibly, what by Deity I am; 
 And in whose hand what by decree I do, 
 Second Omnipotence; two days are pass'd, 
 Two days, as we compute the days of Heaven, 
 Since Michael and his powers went forth to tame 
 These disobedient: sore hath been their fight, 
 As likeliest was, when two such foes met arm'd; 
 For to themselves I left them; and thou know'st, 
 Equal in their creation they were form'd 
 Save what sin hath impair'd, which yet hath 
 Insensibly, for I suspend their doom; [wrought 
 Whence, in perpetual fight, they needs must last 
 Endless, and no solution will be found. 
 War, wearied, hath perform' d what war can do, 
 And to disorder'd rage let loose the reins, [makes 
 With mountains as with weapons arm'd, which 
 Wild work in Heaven, and dang'rous to the main, 
 Two days are therefore pass'd, the third is thine; 
 For thee I have ordain'd it, and thus far 
 
190 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Have suffer' d, that the glory might be thine 
 Of ending this great war, since none but thou 
 Can end it. Into thee such virtue and grace 
 Immense I have transfused, that all may know 
 In Heaven and Hell thy power above compare; 
 And, this perverse commotion governed thus, 
 To manifest thee worthiest to be heir, 
 Of all things to be heir, and to be King 
 By sacred unction, thy deserved right. 
 Go then, thou Mightiest, in thy Father's might; 
 Ascend my chariot, guide the rapid wheels 
 That shake Heaven's basis, bring forth all my war, 
 My bow and thunder; my almighty arms 
 Gird on, and sword upon thy puissant thigh; 
 Pursue these sons of darkness; drive them out 
 From all Heaven's bounds into the utter deep: 
 There let them learn, as likes them, to despise 
 God, and Messiah his anointed King.' 
 
 " He said; and on his Son with rays direct 
 Shone full: he all his Father full express'd 
 Ineffably into his face receiv'd; 
 And thus the filial Godhead answering spake: 
 
 " ' Father, Supreme of Heavenly thrones, 
 First, Highest, Holiest. Best, thou always seek'st 
 To glorify thy Son, I always thee, 
 As is most just; this I my glory account, 
 My exaltation, and my whole delight, 
 That thou, in me well pleased, declar'st thy will 
 Fulfill'd, which to fulfil is all my bliss. 
 Sceptre and power, thy giving, I assume; 
 And gladlier shall resign, when in the end 
 
PARADISE LOST. 191 
 
 Thou shalt be all in all, and I in thee 
 
 For ever; and in me all whom thou lov'st: 
 
 But whom thou hat'st, I hate, and can put on 
 
 Thy terrors, as I put thy mildness on, 
 
 Image of thee in all things; and shall soon, 
 
 Arm'd with thy might, rid Heaven of these rebell'd, 
 
 To their prepar'd ill mansion driven down, 
 
 To chains of darkness, and the undying worm; 
 
 That from thy just obedience could revolt, 
 
 Whom to obey is happiness entire. 
 
 Then shall thy saints unmix'd, and from the im- 
 
 Far separate, circling thy holy mount, [pure 
 
 Unfeigned hallelujahs to thee sing, 
 
 Hymns of high praise, and I among them chief.' 
 
 " So said, he, o'er his sceptre bowing, rose 
 From the right hand of glory, where he sat; 
 And the third sacred morn began to shine, 
 Dawning through Heaven: forth rush'd with whirl- 
 The chariot of paternal Deity, [wind sound 
 
 Flashing thick flames, wheel within wheel undrawn, 
 Itself instinct with spirit, but convoy'd 
 By four cherubic shapes; four faces each 
 Had wondrous; as with stars, their bodies all 
 And wings were set with eyes; with eyes the wheels 
 Of beryl, and careering fires between; 
 Over their heads a crystal firmament, 
 Whereon a sapphire throne, inlaid with pure 
 Amber, and colours of the showery arch. 
 He, in celestial panoply all arm'd, 
 Of radiant Urim, work divinely wrought, 
 Ascended; at his right hand Victory 
 
192 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Sat eagle- wing'd; beside him hung his bow 
 And quiver, with three-bolted thunder stored; 
 And from about him fierce effusion roll'd 
 Of smoke, and bickering flame, and sparkles dire. 
 Attended with ten thousand thousand saints, 
 He onward came; far off his coming shone: 
 And twenty thousand, (I their number heard,) 
 Chariots of God, half on each hand were seen, 
 He on the wings of cherub rode sublime 
 On the crystalline sky, in sapphire throned, 
 Illustrious far and wide; but by his own 
 First seen: them unexpected joy surprised, 
 When the great ensign of Messiah blazed, 
 Aloft by angels borne, his sign in Heaven; 
 Under whose conduct Michael soon reduced 
 His army, circumfused on either wing, 
 Under their Head embodied all in one. 
 Before him Power Divine his way prepared; 
 At his command the uprooted hills retired 
 Each to his place; they heard his voice, and went 
 Obsequious: Heaven his wonted face renew'd, 
 And with fresh flowerets hill and valley smiled. 
 
 " This saw his hapless foes, but stood obdured, 
 And to rebellious fight rallied their powers, 
 Insensate, hope conceiving from despair. 
 In heavenly spirits could such perverseness dwell? 
 But to convince the proud what signs avail, 
 Or wonders move the obdurate to relent 1 ? 
 They, hardened more by what might most reclaim, 
 Grieving to see his glory, at the sight 
 Took envy; and, aspiring to his height, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 193 
 
 Stood re-embattled fierce, by force or fraud 
 
 Weening to prosper, and at length prevail 
 
 Against God and Messiah, or to fall 
 
 In universal ruin lost; and now 
 
 To final battle drew, disdaining flight, 
 
 Or faint retreat; when the great Son of God 
 
 To all his host on either hand thus spake: 
 
 " ' Stand still in bright array, ye saints; here 
 Ye angels arm'd; this day from battle rest: [stand, 
 Faithful hath been your warfare, and of God 
 Accepted, fearless in his righteous cause; 
 And as ye have received, so have ye done 
 Invincibly: but of this cursed crew 
 The punishment to other hand belongs; 
 Vengeance is his, or whose he sole appoints: 
 Number to this day's work is not ordain'd, 
 Nor multitude; stand only, and behold 
 God's indignation on these godless, pour'd 
 By Me; not you, but Me they have despised, 
 Yet envied; against Me is all their rage, 
 Because the Father, to whom in Heaven supreme 
 Kingdom and power and glory appertains, 
 Hath honoured Me according to his will. 
 Therefore to Me their doom he hath assign'd; 
 That they may have their wish, to try with Me 
 In battle, which the stronger proves; they all, 
 Or I alone against them; since by strength 
 They measure all, of other excellence 
 Not emulous, nor care who them excels; 
 No other strife with them do I vouchsafe.' 
 " So spake the Son, and into terror changed 
 
 N 
 
194 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 His countenance, too severe to be beheld, 
 And full of wrath bent on his enemies. 
 At once the four spread out their starry wings, 
 With dreadful shade contiguous, and the orbs 
 Of his fierce chariot roll'd, as with the sound 
 Of torrent floods, or of a numerous host. 
 He on his impious foes right onward drove, 
 Gloomy as night; under his burning wheels 
 The steadfast empyrean shook throughout, 
 All but the throne itself of God. Full soon 
 Among them he arriv'd; in his right hand 
 Grasping ten thousand thunders, which he sent 
 Before him, such as in their souls infix'd 
 Plagues: they, astonish'd, all resistance lost, 
 All courage; down their idle weapons dropp'd: 
 O'er shields, and helms, and helmed heads he rode 
 Of thrones and mighty seraphim prostrate, 
 That wish'd the mountains now might be again 
 Thrown on them, as a shelter from his ire. 
 Nor less on either side tempestuous fell 
 His arrows, from the fourfold- visag'd four, 
 Distinct with eyes, and, from the living wheels 
 Distinct alike with multitude of eyes; 
 One spirit in them ruled, and every eye 
 Glared lightning, and shot forth pernicious fire 
 Among the accurs'd,that wither'd all their strength, 
 And of their wonted vigour left them drain'd, 
 Exhausted, spiritless, afflicted, fall'n. 
 Yet half his strength he put not forth, but check'd 
 His thunder in mid volley; for he meant 
 Not to destroy, but root them out of Heaven: 
 
PARADISE LOST. 195 
 
 The overthrown he raised; and, as a herd 
 Of goats or timorous flock together throng'd 
 Drove them before him, thunder-struck, pursued 
 With terrors and with furies, to the bounds 
 And crystal wall of Heaven; which, opening wide, 
 Roll'd inward, and a spacious gap disclos'd, 
 Into the wasteful deep. The monstrous sight 
 Struck them with horror backward, but far worse 
 Urged them behind; headlong themselves they threw 
 Down from the verge of Heaven; eternal wrath 
 Burned after them to the bottomless pit. 
 
 " Hell heard the insufferable noise, Hell saw 
 Heaven ruining from Heaven, and would have fled 
 Affrighted; but strict fate had cast too deep 
 Her dark foundations, and too fast had bound. 
 Nine days they fell: confounded Chaos roar'd, 
 And felt tenfold confusion in their fall, 
 Through his wild anarchy; so huge a rout 
 Encumber'd him with ruin. Hell at last, 
 Yawning, received them whole, and on them clos'd : 
 Hell, their fit habitation, fraught with fire 
 Unquenchable, the house of woe and pain. 
 Disburdened Heaven rejoiced; and soon repair'd 
 Her mural breach, retuning whence it roll'd. 
 
 " Sole victor, from the expulsion of his foes, 
 Messiah his triumphant chariot turn'd; 
 To meet him, all his saints, who silent stood, 
 Eye-witnesses of his almighty acts, 
 With jubilee advanc'd; and, as they went, 
 Shaded with branching palm, each order bright 
 Sung triumph, and him sung victorious King, 
 
196 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Son, Heir, and Lord, to him dominion given, 
 Worthiest to reign; he, celebrated, rode 
 Triumphant through mid Heaven, into the courts 
 And temple of his mighty Father, throned 
 On high; who into glory him received, 
 Where now he sits at the right hand of bliss. 
 " ' Thus, measuring things in heaven by things 
 
 on earth, 
 
 At thy request, and that thou may'st beware 
 By what is past, to thee I have reveal'd 
 What might have else to human race been hid; 
 The discord which befell, and war in Heaven 
 Among the angelic powers, and the deep fall 
 Of those, too high aspiring, who rebell'd 
 With Satan; he who envies now thy state, 
 Who now is plotting how he may seduce 
 Thee also from obedience, that, with him 
 Bereaved of happiness, thou may'st partake 
 His punishment, eternal misery; 
 Which would be all his solace and revenge, 
 As a despite done against the Most High, 
 Thee once to gain companion of his woe. 
 But listen not to his temptations; warn 
 Thy weaker; let it profit thee to have heard, 
 By terrible example, the reward 
 Of disobedience; firm they might have stood, 
 Yet fell: remember, and fear to transgress." 
 
 END OF BOOK VI. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 BOOK VIL 
 
THE AEGUMENT. 
 
 Raphael, at the request of Adam, relates how and wherefore 
 this world was first created; that God, after the expelling of 
 Satan and his angels out of heaven, declared his pleasure 
 to create another world, and other creatures to dwell therein; 
 sends his Son with glory and attendance of angels to per- 
 form the work of creation in six days; the angels celebrate 
 with hymn* the performance thereof, and his re-ascension 
 into heaven. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 BOOK VII. 
 
 DESCEND from Heaven, Urania, by that name 
 If rightly thou art call'd, whose voice divine 
 Following, above the Olympian hill I soar, 
 Above the flight of Pegasean wing. 
 The meaning, not the name, I call: for thou 
 Nor of the muses nine, nor on the top 
 Of old Olympus dwell'st, but, heavenly born, 
 Before the hills appear'd, or fountain flow'd, 
 Thou with eternal Wisdom didst converse, 
 Wisdom thy sister, and with her didst play, 
 In presence of the almighty Father, pleased 
 With thy celestial song. Upled by thee, 
 Into the Heaven of Heavens, I have presumed, 
 An earthly guest, and drawn empyreal air, 
 Thy tempering: with like safety guided down, 
 He turn me to my native element; 
 Lest from this flying steed unrein'd, (as once 
 Bellerophon, though from a lower clime,) 
 Dismounted, on the Aleian field I fall, 
 Erroneous there to wander, and forlorn. 
 Half yet remains unsung; but narrower bound 
 
 I L - 
 
200 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Within the visible diurnal sphere: 
 Standing on earth, not rapt above the pole, 
 More safe I sing with mortal voice, unchanged 
 To hoarse or mute, though fall'n on evil days, 
 On evil days though fall'n, and evil tongues; 
 In darkness, and with dangers compass'd round, 
 And solitude; yet not alone, while thou 
 Visit'st my slumbers nightly, or when morn 
 Purples the east: still govern thou my song, 
 Urania, and fit audience find, though few: 
 But drive far off the barbarous dissonance 
 Of Bacchus and his revellers, the race 
 Of that vile rout that tore the Thracian bard 
 In Rhodope, where woods and rocks had ears 
 To rapture, till the savage clamour drown'd 
 Both harp and voice; nor could the Muse defend 
 Her son. So fail not thou, who thee implores; 
 For thou art heavenly, she an empty dream. 
 Say, goddess, what ensued, when Raphael, 
 The affable archangel, had forewarn'd 
 Adam, by dire example, to beware 
 Apostacy, by what befell in heaven 
 To these apostates, lest the like befall 
 In Paradise to Adam or his race, 
 Charged not to touch the interdicted tree, 
 If they transgress, and slight that sole command, 
 So easily obey'd, amid the choice 
 Of all tastes else to please their appetite, 
 Though wandering. He, with his consorted Eve, 
 The story heard attentive, and was fill'd 
 With admiration and deep muse, to hear 
 
PARADISE LOST. 201 
 
 Of things so high and strange, things to their 
 So unimaginable, as hate in heaven, [thought 
 And war so near the peace of God in bliss, 
 With such confusion: but the evil, soon 
 Driven back, redounded as a flood on those 
 From whom it sprung; impossible to mix 
 With blessedness. Whence Adam soon repeal'd 
 The doubts that in his heart arose: and now 
 Led on, yet sinless, with desire to know 
 What nearer might concern him; how this world 
 Of Heaven and Earth conspicuous first began; 
 When, and whereof created; for what cause; 
 What within Eden, or without, was done 
 Before his memory: as one, whose drought 
 Yet scarce allay 'd, still eyes the current stream, 
 Whose liquid murmur heard new thirst excites, 
 Proceeded thus to ask his heavenly guest: 
 
 " Great things, and full of wonder in our ears, 
 Far differing from this world, thou hast reveal'd, 
 Divine interpreter! by favour sent 
 Down from the empyrean to forewarn 
 Us timely of what might else have been our loss, 
 Unknown, which human knowledge could not reach; 
 For which to the infinitely Good we owe 
 Immortal thanks, and his admonishment 
 Receive, with solemn purpose to observe 
 Immutably his sovereign will, the end 
 Of what we are. But since thou hast vouchsafed 
 Gently for our instruction, to impart 
 Things above earthly thought, which yet concern'd 
 Our knowing, as to highest Wisdom seem'd; 
 
202 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Deign to descend now lower, and relate 
 
 What may no less perhaps avail us known; 
 
 How first began this Heaven which we behold 
 
 Distant so high, with moving fires adorn'd 
 
 Innumerable; and this which yields or fills 
 
 All space, the ambient air wide interfused, 
 
 Embracing round this florid earth: what cause 
 
 Moved the Creator, in his holy rest 
 
 Through all eternity, so late to build 
 
 In Chaos; and the work begun, how soon 
 
 Absolved; if unforbid thou may'st unfold 
 
 What we, not to explore the secrets, ask 
 
 Of his eternal empire, but the more 
 
 To magnify his works, the more we know: 
 
 And the great light of day yet wants to run [ven, 
 
 Much of his race though steep; suspense in Hea- 
 
 Held by thy voice, thy potent voice, he hears; 
 
 And longer will delay to hear thee tell 
 
 His generation, and the rising birth 
 
 Of Nature from the unapparent deep: 
 
 Or if the star of evening and the moon 
 
 Haste to thy audience, Night with her will bring 
 
 Silence; and Sleep, listening to thee, will watch; 
 
 Or we can bid his absence, till thy song 
 
 End, and dismiss thee ere the morning shine." 
 
 Thus Adam his illustrious guest besought; 
 And thus the godlike angel answer'd mild: 
 
 " This also thy request, with caution ask'd, 
 Obtain; though, to recount Almighty works 
 What words or tongue of seraph can suffice, 
 Or heart of man suffice to comprehend ? 
 
PARADISE LOST. 203 
 
 Yet what thou can'st attain, which best may serve 
 
 To glorify the Maker, and infer 
 
 Thee also happier, shall not be withheld 
 
 Thy hearing; such commission from above 
 
 I have received, to answer thy desire 
 
 Of knowledge, within bounds; beyond, abstain 
 
 To ask, nor let thine own inventions hope 
 
 Things not reveal'd, with the invisible King, 
 
 Only Omniscient, hath suppress'd in night, 
 
 To none communicable in Earth or Heaven: 
 
 Enough is left besides to search and know. 
 
 But knowledge is as food, and needs no less 
 
 Her temperance over appetite, to know 
 
 In measure, what the mind may well contain; 
 
 Oppresses else with surfeit, and soon turns 
 
 Wisdom to folly, as nourishment to wind. 
 
 " Know then, that, after Lucifer from heaven, 
 (So call him, brighter once amidst the host 
 Of angels, than that star the stars among,) 
 Fell with his flaming legions through the deep 
 Into his place, and the great Son returned 
 Victorious with his saints, the omnipotent 
 Eternal Father from his throne beheld 
 Their multitude, and to his Son thus spake: 
 
 " At least our envious foe hath fail'd, who thought 
 All like himself rebellious; by whose aid 
 This inaccessible high strength, the seat 
 Of Deity supreme, us dispossess'd, 
 He trusted to have seized, and into fraud 
 Drew many, whom their place knows here no more; 
 Yet far the greater part have kept, I see, 
 
204 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Their station; Heaven, yet populous, retains 
 Number sufficient to possess her realms 
 Though wide, and this high temple to frequent 
 With ministeries due, and solemn rites: 
 But, lest his heart exalt him in the harm 
 Already done, to have dispeopled Heaven, 
 My damage fondly deem'd, I can repair 
 That detriment, if such it be to lose 
 Self-lost; and in a moment will create 
 Another world, out of one man a race 
 Of men innumerable, there to dwell, 
 Not here, till by degrees of merit raised, 
 They open to themselves at length the way 
 Up hither, under long obedience tried; 
 And Earth be changed to Heaven, and Heaven to 
 One kingdom, joy and union without end. [Earth, 
 Meanwhile inhabit lax, ye powers of Heaven; 
 And thou, my Word, begotten Son, by thee 
 This I perform; speak thou, and be it done! 
 My overshadowing Spirit and Might with thee 
 I send along; ride forth and bid the deep 
 Within appointed bounds be heaven and earth; 
 Boundless the deep, because I Am, who fill 
 Infinitude: nor vacuous the space; 
 Though I, uncircumscribed, myself retire, 
 And put not forth my goodness, which is free 
 To act or not: necessity and chance 
 Approach not me, and what I will is fate.' 
 
 " So spake the Almighty, and to what he spake, 
 His Word, the filial Godhead, gave effect. 
 Immediate are the acts of God, more swift 
 
PARADISE LOST. 203 
 
 Than time or motion; but to human ears 
 
 Cannot without process of speech be told, 
 
 So told as earthly notion can receive. 
 
 Great triumph and rejoicing was in Heaven, 
 
 When such was heard declared the Almighty's will; 
 
 Glory they sung to the Most High, good will 
 
 To future men, and in their dwellings peace: 
 
 Glory to him, whose just avenging ire 
 
 Had driven out the ungodly from his sight 
 
 And the habitations of the just; to him 
 
 Glory and praise, whose wisdom had ordain'd 
 
 Good out of evil to create; instead 
 
 Of spirits malign a better race to bring 
 
 Into their vacant room, and thence diffuse 
 
 His good to worlds and ages infinite. 
 
 " So sang the hierarchies: meanwhile the Son 
 On his great expedition now appear'd, 
 Girt with omnipotence, with radiance crown'd 
 Of majesty divine: sapience and love 
 Immense, and all his Father in him shone. 
 About his chariot numberless were pour'd, 
 Oherub and seraph, potentates and thrones, 
 And virtues, winged spirits, and chariots wing'd 
 From th' armoury of God; where stand of old 
 Myriads, between two brazen mountains lodged, 
 Against a solemn day, harness'd at hand, 
 Celestial equipage; and now came forth 
 Spontaneous, for within them spirit lived, 
 Attendant on their Lord: Heaven open'd wide 
 Her ever-during gates, harmonious sound, 
 On golden hinges moving, to let forth 
 
206 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 The King of Glory, in his powerful Word 
 And Spirit, coming to create new worlds. 
 On heavenly ground they stood: and from the shore 
 They view'd the vast immeasurable abyss, 
 Outrageous as a sea, dark, wasteful, wild, 
 Up from the bottom turn'd by furious winds 
 And surging waves, as mountains, to assault 
 Heaven's height, and with the centre mix the pole. 
 " ' Silence, ye troubled waves ! and thou deep, 
 
 peace;' 
 
 Said then theomnific Word, 'your discord end!' 
 Nor stay'd; but on the wings of cherubim 
 Uplifted, in paternal glory rode 
 Far into Chaos, and the world unborn; 
 For Chaos heard his voice: him all his train 
 Follow'd in bright procession, to behold 
 Creation, and the wonders of his might. 
 Then stay'd the fervid wheels, and in his hand 
 He took the golden compasses, prepared 
 In God's eternal store, to circumscribe 
 This universe, and all created things: 
 One foot he centred, and the other turn'd 
 Round through the vast profundity obscure, 
 And said, ' Thus far extend, thus far thy bounds, 
 This be thy just circumference, world !' 
 Thus God the heaven created, thus the earth, 
 Matter unform'd and void: darkness profound 
 Cover'd the abyss; but on the watery calm 
 His brooding wings the Spirit of God outspread, 
 And vital virtue infused, and vital warmth, 
 Throughout the fluid mass; but downward purg'd 
 . 
 
PARADISE LOST. 207 
 
 The black tartareous cold infernal dregs, 
 Adverse to life: then founded, then conglobed 
 Like things to like; the rest to several place 
 Disparted, and between spun out the air; 
 And earth, self-balanced, on her centre hung. 
 
 " ' Let there be light,' said God, and forthwith 
 Ethereal, first of things, quintessence pure, [light 
 Sprung from the deep, and, from her native east, 
 To journey through the airy gloom began, 
 Sphered in a radiant cloud, for yet the sun 
 Was not; she in a cloudy tabernacle 
 Sojourn'd the while. God saw the light was good; 
 And light from darkness by the hemisphere 
 Divided: light the Day, and darkness Night 
 He named. Thus was the first day even and morn; 
 Nor pass'd uncelebrated, nor unsung 
 By the celestial choirs, when orient light 
 Exhaling first from darkness they beheld, 
 Birth-day of heaven and earth; with joy and shout 
 The hollow universal orb they fill'd, [prais'd 
 
 And touch'd their golden harps, and hymning 
 God and his works; Creator him they sung, 
 Both when first evening was, and when first morn. 
 
 " Again, God said, ' Let there be firmament 
 Amid the waters, and let it divide 
 The waters from the waters;' and God made 
 The firmament, expanse of liquid, pure, 
 Transparent, elemental air, diffused 
 In circuit, to the uttermost convex 
 Of this great round; partition firm and sure, 
 The waters underneath from those above 
 
208 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Dividing: for as earth, so he the world 
 Built on circumfluous waters calm, in wide 
 Crystalline ocean, and the loud misrule 
 Of Chaos far removed; lest fierce extremes 
 Contiguous might distemper the whole frame; 
 And heaven be nam'd the firmament: so even 
 And morning chorus sung the second day. 
 
 " The earth was form'd, but in the womb as yet 
 Of waters, embryon immature involved, 
 Appear'd not: over all the face of earth 
 Main ocean flow'd, not idle, but with warm 
 Prolific humour softening all her globe, 
 Fermented the great mother to conceive, 
 Satiate with genial moisture when God said, 
 1 Be gathered now, ye waters under heaven 
 Into one place, and let dry land appear.' 
 Immediately the mountains huge appear 
 Emergent, and their broad bare backs upheave 
 Into the clouds; their tops ascend the sky: 
 So high as heaved the tumid hills, so low 
 Down sunk a hollow bottom, broad and deep, 
 Capacious bed of waters: thither they 
 Hastened with glad precipitance, uproll'd, 
 As drops on dust conglobing from the dry; 
 Part rise in crystal wall, or ridge direct, 
 For haste; such flight the great command impress'*:! 
 On the swift floods: as armies at the call 
 Of trumpets (for of armies thou hast heard) 
 Troop to their standard, so the watery throng, 
 Wave rolling after wave, where way they found 
 If steep, with torrent rapture, if through plain. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 209 
 
 Soft-ebbing, nor withstood them rock or hill; 
 But they, or under ground, or circuit wide 
 With serpent error wandering, found their way, 
 And on the washy ooze deep channels wore; 
 Easy, ere God had bid the ground be dry, 
 All but within those banks, where rivers now 
 Stream, and perpetual draw their humid train. 
 The dry land, Earth, and the great receptacle 
 Of congregated waters, he call'd Seas: [earth 
 
 And saw that it was good; and said, 'Let the 
 Put forth the verdant grass, herb yielding seed, 
 And fruit-tree yielding fruit, after her kind, 
 Whose seed is in herself upon the earth.' 
 He scarce had said, when the bare earth, till then 
 Desert and bare, unsightly, unadorned, 
 Brought forth the tender grass, whose verdure clad 
 Her universal face with pleasant green; 
 Then herbs of every leaf, that sudden flower'd, 
 Opening their various colours, and made gay 
 Her bosom, smelling sweet: and, these scarce blown, 
 Forth flourish'd thick the clustering vine, forth 
 The smelling gourd, up stood the corny reed [crept 
 Embattled in her field, and the humble shrub, 
 And bush with frizzled hair implicit: last 
 Rose, as in dance, the stately trees, and spread 
 Their branches hung with copious fruit, or gemni'd 
 Their blossoms: with high woods the hills were 
 
 crown'd, 
 
 With tufts the valleys, and each fountain-side; 
 With borders long the rivers; that earth now [dwell, 
 Seem'd like to heaven, a seat where God might 
 
210 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Or wander with delight, and love to haunt 
 Her sacred shades: though God had yet not rain'd 
 Upon the earth, and man to till the ground 
 None was; but from the earth a dewy mist 
 Went up, and water'd all the ground, and each 
 Plant of the field, which, ere it was in the earth, 
 God made, and every herb, before it grew 
 On the green stem; God saw that it was good: 
 So even and morn recorded the third day. 
 
 " Again the Almighty spake, ' Let there be lights 
 High in the expanse of heaven, to divide 
 The day from night; and let them be for signs, 
 For seasons, and for days, and circling years; 
 And let them be for lights, as I ordain 
 Their office in the firmament of heaven, 
 To give light on the earth;' and it was so. 
 And God made two great lights, great for their 
 To man; the greater to have rule by day, [use 
 The less by night, altern; and made the stars, 
 And set them in the firmament of heaven, 
 To illuminate the earth, and rule the day, 
 In their vicissitude, and rule the night, 
 And light from darkness to divide. God saw, 
 Surveying his great work, that it was good: 
 For of celestial bodies tirst the sun, 
 A mighty sphere, he framed, unlightsome first, 
 Though of ethereal mould: then form'd the moon 
 Globose, and every magnitude of stars, 
 And sow'd with stars the heaven, thick as a field: 
 Of light by far the greater part he took, 
 Transplanted from her cloudy shrine, and placed 
 
PARADISE LOST, 
 
 In the sun's orb, made porous to receive 
 And drink the liquid light; firm to retain 
 Her gather'd beams, great palace now of light. 
 Hither, as to their fountain, other stars 
 Repairing, in their golden urns draw light, 
 And hence the morning planet gilds her horns; 
 By tincture or reflection they augment 
 Their small peculiar, though from human sight 
 So far remote, with diminution seen. 
 First in his east the glorious lamp was seen. 
 Regent of day, and all the horizon round 
 Invested with bright rays, jocund to run [gray 
 His longitude through Heaven's high road; the 
 Dawn, and the Pleiades before him danc'd, 
 Shedding sweet influence: less bright the moon, 
 But opposite in levell'd west was set, 
 His mirror, with full face, borrowing her light 
 From him; for other light she needed none 
 In that aspect, and still that distance keeps 
 Till night; then in the east her turn she shines, 
 Revolved on heaven's great axle, and her reign 
 With thousand lesser lights dividual holds, 
 With thousand thousand stars, that then appeared 
 Spangling the hemisphere: then first adorn'd 
 With their bright luminaries, that set and rose, 
 Glad evening and glad morn crown'd the fourth 
 " And God said, ' Let the waters generate [day. 
 Reptile with spawn abundant, living soul; 
 And let fowl fly above the earth, with wings 
 Display'd on the open firmament of heaven.' 
 And God created the great whales, and each 
 
212 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Soul living, each that crept, which plenteously 
 The waters generated by their kinds; 
 And every bird of wing after his kind; 
 And saw that it was good, and bless'd them, saying, 
 'Be fruitful, multiply, and in the seas, 
 And lakes, and running streams, the waters fill; 
 And let the fowl be multiplied on the earth.' 
 Forthwith the sounds, and seas, each creek, arid 
 With fry innumerable swarm, and shoals [bay, 
 Of fish, that with their fins and shining scales 
 Glide under the green wave, in sculls that oft 
 Bank the mid-sea: part single, or with mate, 
 Graze the sea-weed, their pasture, and through 
 
 groves 
 
 Of coral stray; or, sporting with quick glance, 
 Show to the sun their waved coats dropp'd with 
 Or, in their pearly shells at ease, attend [gold; 
 Moist nutriment; or under rocks their food 
 In jointed armour watch. On smooth the seal, 
 And bended dolphins play: part, huge of bulk, 
 Wallowing unwieldy, enormous in their gait, 
 Tempest the ocean: there leviathan, 
 Hugest of living creatures, on the deep, 
 Stretch'd like a promontory, sleeps or swims, 
 And seems a moving land, and at his gills 
 Draws in, and at his trunk spouts out, a sea. 
 Meanwhile the tepid caves, and fens, and shores, 
 Their brood as numerous hatch, from the egg that 
 Bursting with kindly rapture, forth disclosed [soon 
 Their callow young; but feather' d soon and fledge 
 They summ'd their pens, and soaring the air sublime, 
 
PAEAPISE LOST. 213 
 
 With clang despised the ground, under a cloud 
 In prospect; there the eagle and the stork 
 On cliffs and cedar tops their eyries build: 
 Part loosely wing the region; part, more wise, 
 In common, ranged in figure, wedge their way, 
 Intelligent of seasons, and set forth 
 Their airy caravan, high over seas 
 Flying^ and over lands, with mutual wing 
 Easing their flight; so steers the prudent crane 
 Her annual voyage, borne on winds; the air 
 Floats as they pass, fann'd with unnumber'd plumes: 
 From branch to branch the smaller birds with song- 
 Solaced the woods, and spread their painted wings 
 Till even; nor then the solemn nightingale 
 Ceased warbling, but all night tuned her soft lays: 
 Others, on silver lakes and rivers, bathed 
 Their downy breast; the swan with arched neck 
 Between her white wings mantling proudly, rows 
 Her state with oary feet; yet oft they quit 
 The dank, and, rising on stiff pinions, tower 
 The mid aerial sky: others on ground 
 Walk'd firm: the crested cock, whose clarion sounds 
 The silent hours; and the other, whose gay train 
 Adorns him, colour'd with the florid hue 
 Of rainbows and starry eyes. The waters thus 
 With fish replenish'd, and the air with fowl, 
 Evening and morn solemnized the fifth day. 
 
 " The sixth, and of creation last, arose 
 With evening harps and matin; when God said, 
 ' Let the earth bring forth soul living in her kind 
 Cattle, and creeping things, and beast cf the earth, 
 
214 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Each in their kind.' The earth obey'd, and straight 
 Opening her fertile womb, teem'd at a birth 
 Innumerous living creatures, perfect forms, 
 Limb'd and full grown: out of ground uprose, 
 As from his lair, the wild beast where he wons 
 In forest wild, in thicket, brake, or den; 
 Among the trees in pairs they rose, they walk'd: 
 The cattle in the fields and meadows green; 
 Those rare and solitary, these in flocks 
 Pasturing at once, and in broad herds up sprung. 
 The grassy clods now calved; now half appear'd 
 The tawny lion, pawing to get free 
 His hinder parts, then springs as broke from bonds, 
 And rampant shakes his brinded mane: the ounce, 
 The libbard, and the tiger, as the mole 
 Rising, the crumbled earth above them threw 
 In hillocks; the swift stag from under ground, 
 Bore up his branching head : scarce from his mould 
 Behemoth, biggest born of earth, upheaved 
 His vastness: fleeced the flocks and bleating rose, 
 As plants; ambiguous between sea and land, 
 The river-horse, and scaly crocodile. 
 At once came forth whatever creeps the ground, 
 Insect or worm: those waved their limber fans 
 For wings, and smallest lineaments exact, 
 In all the liveries deck'd of summer's pride, 
 With spots of gold and purple, azure and green : 
 These, as a line, their long dimensions drew, 
 Streaking the ground with sinuous trace; not all 
 Minims of nature; some of serpent kind, 
 Wondrous in length and corpulence, involved 
 
PAKADISE LOST. 215 
 
 Their snaky folds, and added wings. First crept 
 
 The parsimonious emmet, provident 
 
 Of future; in small room large heart enclosed, 
 
 Pattern of just equality, perhaps, 
 
 Hereafter, join'd in her popular tribes 
 
 Of commonalty; swarming next appear'd 
 
 The female bee, that feeds her husband drone 
 
 Deliriously, and builds her waxen cells, 
 
 With honey stored: The rest are numberless, 
 
 And thou their natures know'st, and gav'st them 
 
 Needless to thee repeated; nor unknown [names, 
 
 The serpent, subtlest beast of all the field, 
 
 Of huge extent sometimes, with brazen eyes, 
 
 And hairy mane terrific, though to thee 
 
 Not noxious, but obedient at thy call. 
 
 " Now Heaven in all her glory shone, and roll'd 
 Her motions, as the great first Mover's hand 
 First wheel'd their course; Earth in her rich attire 
 Consummate lovely smiled; air, water, earth, 
 By fowl, fish, beast, was flown, was swum, was walk'd 
 Frequent; and of the sixth day yet remain'd : 
 There wanted yet the master-work, the end 
 Of all yet done; a creature, who, not prone 
 And brute as other creatures, but endued 
 With sanctity of reason, might erect 
 His stature, and upright with front serene 
 Govern the rest, self-knowing; and from thence 
 Magnanimous, to correspond with heaven; 
 But grateful, to acknowledge whence his good 
 Descends; thither, with heart, and voice, and eyes, 
 Directed in devotion, to adore 
 
216 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 And worship God supreme, who made him chief , 
 Of all his works; therefore the Omnipotent 
 Eternal Father (for where is not he 
 Present?) thus to his Son audibly spake: 
 
 " ' Let us make now Man in our image. Man 
 In our similitude; and let them rule 
 Over the fish, and fowl, of sea and air, 
 Beast of the field, and over all the earth, 
 And every creeping thing that creeps the ground.' 
 This said, he form'd thee, Adam, thee, man ! 
 Dust of the ground, and in thy nostrils breathed 
 The breath of life; in his own image he 
 Created thee, in the image of God 
 Express, and thou becam'st a living soul. 
 Male he created thee; but thy consort 
 Female, for race; then bless'd mankind, and said, 
 ' Be fruitful, multiply, and fill the earth; 
 Subdue it, and throughout dominion hold, 
 Over fish of the sea, and fowl of the air, 
 And every living thing that moves on the earth, 
 Wherever thus created,' (for no place 
 Is yet distinct by name.) Thence, as thou know'st, 
 He brought thee into this delicious grove, 
 This garden, planted with the trees of God, 
 Delectable both to behold and taste; 
 And freely all their pleasant fruit for food 
 Gave thee; all sorts are here that all the earth 
 Variety without end; but of the tree, [yields, 
 
 Which, tasted, works knowledge of good and evil, 
 Thou may'st not; in the day thou eat'st, thou diest: 
 Death is the penalty imposed; beware, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 217 
 
 And govern well thy appetite, lest Sin 
 Surprise thee, and her black attendant Death. 
 " Here finish'd he; and all that he had made 
 View'd, and behold all was entirely good; 
 So even and morn accomplish'd the sixth day: 
 Yet not till the Creator, from his work 
 Desisting, though unwearied, up return'd, 
 Up to the heaven of heavens, his high abode, 
 Thence to behold this new-created world, 
 The addition of his empire, how it show'd 
 In prospect from his throne, how good, how fair, 
 Answering his great idea. Up he rode, 
 Follow'd with acclamation, and the sound 
 Symphonious of ten thousand harps, that tuned 
 Angelic harmonies: the earth, the air 
 Resounded; (thou remember'st, for thou heardst;) 
 The heavens, and all the constellations rung, 
 The planets in their stations listening stood, 
 While the bright pomp ascended jubilant. 
 ' Open, ye everlasting gates,' they sung; 
 * Open, ye heavens, your living doors; let in 
 The great Creator, from his work return'd 
 Magnificent his six days' work, a world; 
 Open, and henceforth oft; for God will deign 
 To visit oft the dwellings of just men, 
 Delighted; and with frequent intercourse, 
 Thither will send his winged messengers, 
 On errands of supernal grace.' So sung 
 The glorious train ascending: he through heaven 
 That open'd wide her blazing portals, led 
 To God's eternal house direct the way, 
 
218 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 A broad and ample road, whose dust is gold, 
 And pavement stars, as stars to thee appear, 
 Seen in the galaxy, that milky way, 
 Which nightly, as a circling zone thou seest, 
 Powder'd with stars. And now on earth the 
 Evening arose in Eden, for the sun [seventh 
 
 Was set, and twilight from the east came on 
 Forerunning night; when, at the holy mount 
 Of heaven's high-seated top, the imperial throne 
 Of Godhead, fix'd for ever firm and sure, 
 The Filial Power arrived, and sat him down 
 With his great Father; for he also went 
 Invisible, yet stay'd, (such privilege 
 Hath Omnipresence,) and the work ordain'd, 
 Author and end of all things; and from work 
 Now resting, bless'd and hallow'd the seventh day, 
 As resting on that day from all his work; 
 But not in silence holy kept; the harp 
 Had work, and rested not, the solemn pipe, 
 And dulcimer, all organs of sweet stop, 
 All sounds on fret, by string or golden wire, 
 Temper'd soft tunings, intermix'd with voice. 
 Choral or unison: of incense clouds, 
 Fuming from golden censers, hid the mount. 
 Creation, and the six days' acts, they sung: 
 
 " ' Great are thy works, Jehovah ! infinite 
 Thy pow'r! what thought can measure thee, or 
 Relate thee? greater now in thy return, [tongue 
 Than from the giant angels; thee that day 
 Thy thunders magnified; but to create 
 
PARADISE LOST. 219 
 
 Is greater than created to destroy. 
 
 Who can impair thee, mighty King, or bound 
 
 Thy empire? easily the proud attempt 
 
 Of spirits apostate, and their counsels vain, 
 
 Thou hast repell'd, while impiously they thought 
 
 Thee to diminish, and from thee withdraw 
 
 The number of thy worshippers. Who seeks 
 
 To lessen thee, against his purpose, serves 
 
 To manifest the more thy might: his evil 
 
 Thou usest, and from thence creat'st more good. 
 
 Witness this new-made world, another heaven, 
 
 From heaven-gate not far, founded in view 
 
 On the clear hyaline, the glassy sea; 
 
 Of amplitude almost immense, with stars 
 
 Numerous, and every star perhaps a world 
 
 Of destined habitation; but thou know'st 
 
 Their seasons: among these the seat of men, 
 
 Earth with her nether ocean circumfused, 
 
 Their pleasant dwelling-place. Thrice happy men, 
 
 And sons of men, whom God hath thus advanced, 
 
 Created in his image, there to dwell, 
 
 And worship him, and in reward to rule 
 
 Over his works, on earth, in sea, or air, 
 
 And multiply a race of worshippers, 
 
 Holy and just: thrice happy, if they know 
 
 Their happiness, and persevere upright.' 
 
 "So sung they, and the empyrean rung 
 With hallelujahs: Thus was sabbath kept. 
 And thy request think now fulfill' d, that ask'd 
 How first this world and face of things began, 
 
220 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 And what before thy memory was done 
 
 From the beginning; that posterity, 
 
 Inform' d by thee, might know; if else thou seek'st 
 
 Aught, not surpassing human measure, say." 1 
 
 END OF BOOK VII. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 BOOK VIII. 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Adam inquires conceding celestial motions; is doubtfully 
 answered, and exhorted to search rather things more worthy 
 of knowledge: Adam assents; and, still desirous to detain 
 Raphael, relates to him what he remembered since his own 
 creation; his placing in Paradise; his talk with God con- 
 cerning solitude and fit society; his first meeting and nup- 
 tials with Eve; his discourse with tfie angel thereupon; who, 
 after admonitions repeated, departs. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 BOOK VIII. 
 
 THE Angel ended, and in Adam's ear 
 So charming left his voice, that he awhile [hear; 
 Thought him still speaking, still stood fix'd to 
 Then, as new-waked, thus gratefully replied: 
 
 ' What thanks sufficient, or what recompense 
 Equal, have I to render thee, divine 
 Historian, who thus largely hast allay'd 
 The thirst I had of knowledge, and vouchsafed 
 This friendly condescension, to relate 
 Things else by me unsearchable, now heard 
 With wonder, but delight, and, as is due, 
 With glory attributed to the high 
 Creator? Something yet of doubt remains, 
 Which only thy solution can resolve. 
 When I behold this goodly frame, this world, 
 Of heaven and earth consisting, and compute 
 Their magnitudes; this earth, a spot, a grain, 
 An atom, with the firmament compared 
 And all her number'd stars, that seem to roll 
 Spaces incomprehensible, (for such 
 Their distance argues, and their swift return 
 
224 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Diurnal, merely to officiate light 
 
 Round this opacous earth, this punctual spot, 
 
 One day and night; in all their vast survey 
 
 Useless besides; reasoning, I oft admire 
 
 How Nature, wise and frugal, could commit 
 
 Such disproportions, with superfluous hand 
 
 So many nobler bodies to create, 
 
 Greater so manifold, to this one use, 
 
 For aught appears, and on their orbs impose 
 
 Such restless revolution day by day 
 
 Repeated; while the sedentary earth, 
 
 That better might with far less compass move, 
 
 Served by more noble than herself, attains 
 
 Her end without least motion, and receives, 
 
 As tribute, such a sumless journey brought 
 
 Of incorporeal speed, her warmth and light; 
 
 Speed, to describe whose swiftness number fails." 
 
 So spake our sire, and by his countenance seem'd 
 Entering on studious thoughts abstruse; which Eve 
 Perceiving, where she sat retired in sight, 
 With lowliness majestic from her seat, 
 And grace that won who saw to wish her stay, 
 Rose, and went forth among her fruits and flowers, 
 To visit how they prosper'd, bud and bloom, 
 Her nursery: they at her coming sprung, 
 And, touch'd by her fair tendance, gladlier grew. 
 Yet went she not, as not with such discourse 
 Delighted, or not capable her ear 
 Of what was high: such pleasure she reserved, 
 Adam relating, she sole auditress; 
 Her husband the relater she preferr'd 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 225 
 
 Before the angel, and of him to ask 
 
 Chose rather; he, she knew, would intermix 
 
 Grateful digressions, and solve high dispute 
 
 With conjugal caresses; from his lip 
 
 Not words alone pleas'd her. when meet now 
 
 Such pairs, in love and mutual honour join'd? 
 
 With goddess-like demeanour forth she went, 
 
 Not unattended; for on her, as queen, 
 
 A pomp of winning Graces waited still, 
 
 And from about her shot darts of desire 
 
 Into all eyes, to wish her still in sight. 
 
 And Raphael now, to Adam's doubt proposed, 
 
 Benevolent and facile thus replied: 
 
 " To ask or search I blame thee not; for heaven 
 Is as the book of God before thee set, 
 Wherein to read his wondrous works, and learn 
 His seasons, hours, or days, or months, or years: 
 This to attain, whether heaven move or earth, 
 Imports not, if thou reckon right; the rest 
 From man or angel the great Architect 
 Did wisely to conceal, and not divulge 
 His secrets to be scann'd by them who ought 
 Rather admire: or, if they list to try 
 Conjecture, he his fabric of the heavens 
 Hath left to their disputes; perhaps to move 
 His laughter, at their quaint opinions wide, 
 Hereafter, when they come to model heaven 
 And calculate the stars; how they will wield 
 The mighty frame; how build, unbuild, contrive, 
 To save appearances; how gird the sphere, 
 
 With centric and eccentric scribbled o'er, 
 
 p 
 
226 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Cycle and epicycle, orb in orb: 
 
 Already by thy reasoning this I guess. 
 
 Who art to lead thy offspring, and supposest 
 
 That bodies bright and greater should not serve 
 
 The less not bright; nor heaven such journeys run, 
 
 Earth sitting still, when she alone receives 
 
 The benefit. Consider first, that great 
 
 Or bright infers not excellence: the earth, 
 
 Though, in comparison of heaven, so small, 
 
 Nor glistering, may of solid good contain 
 
 More plenty than the sun that barren shines, 
 
 Whose virtue on itself works no effect, 
 
 But in the fruitful earth; there first received, 
 
 His beams, inactive else, their vigour find. 
 
 Yet not to earth are those bright luminaries 
 
 Officious, but to thee, earth's habitant. 
 
 And for the heaven's wide circuit, let it speak 
 
 The Maker's high magnificence, who built 
 
 So spacious, and his line stretch'd out so far, 
 
 That man may know he dwells not in his own: 
 
 An edifice too large for him to fill, 
 
 Lodg'd in a small partition, and the rest 
 
 Ordain'd for uses to his Lord best known. 
 
 The swiftness of those circles attribute, 
 
 Though numberless, to his omnipotence, 
 
 That to corporeal substances could add 
 
 Speed almost spiritual: me thou think'st not slow, 
 
 Who since the morning-hour set out from heaven, 
 
 Where God resides, and ere mid-day arrived 
 
 In Eden; distance inexpressible 
 
 By numbers that have name. But this I urge, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Admitting motion in the heavens, to show 
 Invalid that which thee to doubt it moved; 
 Xot that I so affirm, though so it seem 
 To thee, who hast thy dwelling here on earth. 
 God, to remove his ways from human sense, 
 Placed heaven from earth so far, that earthly sight, 
 If it presume, might err in things too high, 
 And no advantage gain. What if the sun 
 Be centre to the world; and other stars, 
 By his attractive virtue and their own 
 Incited, dance about him various rounds? 
 Their wandering course, now high, now low, then 
 Progressive, retrograde, or standing still, [hid, 
 In six thou seest; and what if seventh to these 
 The planet Earth, so steadfast though she seem, 
 Insensibly three different motions move? 
 Which else to several spheres thou must ascribe, 
 Moved contrary with thwart obliquities; 
 Or save the sun his labour, and that swift 
 Nocturnal and diurnal rhomb supposed, 
 Invisible else above all stars, the wheel 
 Of day and night; which needs not thy belief, 
 If earth, industrious of herself, fetch day 
 Travelling east, and with her part averse 
 From the sun's beam meet night, her other part 
 Still luminous by his ray. What if that light, 
 Sent from her, through the wide transpicuous air, 
 To the terrestrial moon, be as a star, 
 Enlightening her by day, as she by night 
 This earth? reciprocal, if land be there, 
 Fields and inhabitants: her spots thou seest 
 
228 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 As clouds; and clouds may rain, and rain produce 
 Fruits in her soften'd soil, for some to eat, 
 Allotted there; and other suns perhaps, 
 With their attendant moons, thou wilt descry, 
 Communicating male and female light; 
 Which two great sexes animate the world, 
 Stored in each orb perhaps with some that live- 
 For such vast room in nature, unpossessed 
 By living soul, desert and desolate, 
 Only to shine, yet scarce to contribute 
 Each orb a glimpse of light, convey'd so far 
 Down to this habitable, which returns 
 Light back to them, is obvious to dispute. 
 But whether thus these things, or whether not; 
 Whether the sun, predominant in heaven, 
 Rise on the earth, or earth rise on the sun; 
 He from the east his flaming road begin, 
 Or she from west her silent course advance, 
 With inoffensive pace that spinning sleeps 
 On her soft axle; while she paces even, 
 And bears thee soft with the smooth air along; 
 Solicit not thy thoughts with matters hid; 
 Leave them to God above; him serve and fear, 
 Of other creatures, as him pleases best, 
 Wherever placed, let him dispose; joy thou 
 In what he gives to thee, this Paradise 
 And thy fair Eve; heaven is for thee too high, 
 To know what passes there; be lowly wise: 
 Think only what concerns thee and thy being; 
 Dream not of other worlds; what creatures there 
 Live, in what state, condition, or degree: 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 229 
 
 Contented that thus far hath been reveal'd, 
 Not of earth only, but of highest heaven." 
 
 To whom thus Adam, clear' d of doubt, replied: 
 " How fully hast thou satisfied me, pure 
 Intelligence of heaven, angel serene! 
 And, freed from intricacies, taught to live 
 The easiest way; nor with perplexing thoughts 
 To interrupt the sweet of life, from which 
 God hath bid dwell far off all anxious cares, 
 And not molest us; unless we ourselves 
 Seek them with wandering thoughts, and notions 
 But apt the mind or fancy is to rove [vain. 
 
 Uncheck'd, and of her roving is no end; 
 Till warn'd, or by experience taught, she learn, 
 That not to know at large of things remote 
 From use, obscure and subtle; but to know 
 That which before us lies in daily life, 
 Is the prime wisdom; what is more is fume, 
 Or emptiness, or fond impertinence; 
 And renders us, in things that most concern, 
 Unpractised, unprepared, and still to seek. 
 Therefore from this high pitch let us descend 
 A lower flight, and speak of things at hand, 
 Useful; whence, haply, mention may arise 
 Of something not unreasonable to ask, 
 By sufferance, and thy wonted favour deign'd. 
 Thee I have heard relating what was done 
 Ere my remembrance; now, hear me relate 
 My story, which perhaps thou hast not heard: 
 And day is not yet spent; till then thou seest 
 How subtly to detain thee I devise, 
 
230 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Inviting thee to hear while I relate; 
 Fond, were it not in hope of thy reply; 
 For while I sit with thee, I seem in heaven; 
 And sweeter thy discourse is to my ear 
 Than fruits of palm-tree pleasantest to thirst 
 And hunger both, from labour at the hour 
 Of sweet repast; they satiate, and soon fill, 
 Though pleasant; but thy words, with grace divine 
 Imbued, bring to their sweetness no satiety." 
 
 To whom thus Raphael answer'd, heavenly meek : 
 " Nor are thy lips ungraceful, sire of men, 
 Nor tongue ineloquent; for God on thee 
 Abundantly his gifts hath also pour'd, 
 Inward and outward both, his image fair: 
 Speaking or mute, all comeliness and grace 
 Attends thee, and each word, each motion forms: 
 Nor less think we in heaven of thee on earth 
 Than of our fellow-servant, and inquire 
 Gladly into the ways of God with man: 
 For God, we see, hath honour'd thee, and set 
 On man his equal love. Say therefore on; 
 For I that day was absent, as befell, 
 Bound on a voyage uncouth and obscure, 
 Far on excursion toward the gates of hell; 
 Squared in full legion, (such command we had,) 
 To see that none thence issued forth a spy, 
 Or enemy, while God was in his work: 
 Lest he, incens'd at such eruption bold, 
 Destruction with creation might have mix'd. 
 Not that they durst without his leave attempt: 
 But us he sends upon his high behests 
 
PARADISE LOST. 231 
 
 For state, as Sovereign King, and to inure 
 Our prompt obedience. Fast we found, fast shut 
 The dismal gates, arid barricadoed strong; 
 But long ere our approaching heard within 
 Noise, other than the sound of dance or song; 
 Torment, and loud lament, and furious rage. 
 Glad we return'd up to the coasts of light, 
 Ere Sabbath evening: so we had in charge. 
 But thy relation now; for I attend. [mine." 
 
 Pleased with thy words no less than thou with 
 So spake the godlike power; and thus our sire: 
 " For man to tell how human life began 
 Is hard; for who himself beginning knew 1 
 Desire with thee still longer to converse 
 Induced me. As new waked from soundest sleep, 
 Soft on the flowery herb I found me laid, 
 In balmy sweat, which with his beams the sun 
 Soon dried, and on the reeking moisture fed. 
 Straight toward heaven my wondering eyes I turn'd, 
 And gaz'd awhile the ample sky; till, raised 
 By quick instinctive motion, up I sprung, 
 As thitherward endeavouring, and upright 
 Stood on my feet: about me round I saw 
 Hill, dale, and shady woods, and sunny plains, 
 And liquid lapse of murmuring streams; by these 
 Creatures that lived and moved, and walked, or 
 
 flew; 
 
 Birds on the branches warbling; all things smiled; 
 With fragrance and with joy my heart o'erflow'd. 
 Myself I then perused, and limb by limb 
 Survey'd, and sometimes went, and sometimes ran 
 
232 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 With supple joints, as lively vigour led; 
 But who I was, or where, or from what cause, 
 Knew not: to speak I tried, and forthwith spake; 
 My tongue obey'd, and readily could name 
 Whate'er I saw. 'Thou sun,' said I, 'fair light, 
 And thou enlighten'd earth, so fresh and gay, 
 Ye hills and dales, ye rivers, woods, and plains, 
 And ye that live and move, fair creatures, tell, 
 Tell, if ye saw, how I came thus, how here 1 
 Not of myself; by some great Maker then, 
 In goodnesss and in power pre-eminent: 
 Tell me how I may know him, how adore, 
 From whom I have that thus I move and live, 
 And feel that I am happier than I know.' [\rhither, 
 While thus I cali'd, and stray'd, I knew not 
 From where I first drew air, and first beheld 
 This happy light; when answer none return'd, 
 On a green shady bank, profuse of flowers, 
 Pensive I sat me down; there gentle sleep 
 . First found me, and with soft oppression seized 
 My drowsied sense; untroubled, though I thought 
 I then was passing to my former state, 
 Insensible, and forthwith to dissolve; 
 When suddenly stood at my head a dream, 
 Whose inward apparition gently moved 
 My fancy to believe I yet had being, 
 And lived: One came, methought, of shape divine, 
 And said, ' Thy mansion wants thee, Adam; rise, 
 First man, of men innumerable ordain'd 
 First father! cali'd by thee, I come, thy guide 
 To the garden of bliss, thy seat prepared.' 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 233 
 
 So saying, by the hand he took me raised, 
 And over fields and waters, as in air, 
 Smooth sliding without step, last led me up 
 A woody mountain, whose high top was plain, 
 A circuit wide enclosed, with goodliest trees 
 Planted, with walks and bowers; that what I saw 
 Of earth before scarce pleasant seem'd. Each tree 
 Laden with fairest fruit that hung to the eye 
 Tempting, stirr'd in me sudden appetite 
 To pluck and eat; whereat I waked, and found 
 Before mine eyes all real, as the dream 
 Had lively shadow'd: here had new begun 
 My wandering, had not He, who was my guide 
 Up hither, from among the trees appear'd, 
 Presence Divine. Rejoicing, but with awe. 
 In adoration at his feet I fell [I am,' 
 
 Submiss: he rear'd me, and l Whom thou sought'st 
 Said mildly; ' Author of all this thou seest, 
 Above, or round about thee, or beneath. 
 This Paradise I give thee; count it thine, 
 To till and keep, and of the fruit to eat: 
 Of every tree that in the garden grows 
 Eat freely with glad heart; fear here no dearth: 
 But of the tree, whose operation brings 
 Knowledge of good and ill, which I have set, 
 The pledge of thy obedience and thy faith, 
 Amid the garden, by the tree of life, 
 Remember what I warn thee, shun to taste, 
 And shun the bitter consequence: for know, 
 The day thou eat'st thereof, my sole command 
 Transgress'd, inevitably thou shalt die, 
 
334: PARADISE LOST. 
 
 From that day mortal; and this happy state 
 
 Shalt lose, expell'd from hence, into a world 
 
 Of woe and sorrow.' Sternly he pronounced 
 
 The rigid interdiction, which resounds 
 
 Yet dreadful in mine ear, though in my choice 
 
 Not to incur: but soon his clear aspect 
 
 Return'd, and gracious purpose thus renew'd: 
 
 * Not only these fair bounds, but all the earth, 
 
 To thee and to thy race, I give; as lords 
 
 Possess it, and all things that therein live, 
 
 Or live in sea or air, beast, fish, and fowl. 
 
 In sign whereof, each bird and beast behold 
 
 After their kinds; I bring them to receive 
 
 From thee their names, and pay thee fealty 
 
 With low subjection; understand the same 
 
 Of fish within their watery residence, 
 
 Not hither summon'd, since they cannot change 
 
 Their element, to draw the thinner air.' 
 
 As thus he spake, each bird and beast behold 
 
 Approaching two and two; these cowering low 
 
 With blandishment; each bird stoop'd on his wing. 
 
 I named them as they pass'd, and understood 
 
 Their nature; with such knowledge God endued 
 
 My sudden apprehension: but in these 
 
 I found not what methought I wanted still; 
 
 And to the Heavenly Vision thus presumed: 
 
 " * by what name, for thou above all these, 
 Above mankind, or aught than mankind higher, 
 Surpassest far my naming; how may I 
 Adore thee, Author of this universe, 
 And all this good to man? for whose well-being, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 235 
 
 So amply, and with hands so liberal, 
 
 Thou hast provided all things; but with me 
 
 I see not who partakes. In solitude 
 
 What happiness? who can enjoy alone; 
 
 Or, all enjoying, what contentment find?' 
 
 Thus I, presumptuous: and the Vision bright, 
 
 As with a smile more brighten'd, thus replied: 
 
 " ' What call'st thou solitude? Is not the earth 
 With various living creatures, and the air 
 Replenish'd, and all these at thy command 
 To come and play before thee? Know'st thou not 
 Their language, and their ways? They also know, 
 And reason not contemptibly; with these 
 Find pastime, and bear rule; thy realm is large.' 
 So spake the Universal Lord, and seem'd 
 So ordering; I, with leave of speech implored, 
 And humble deprecation, thus replied: 
 
 " ' Let not my words offend thee, heavenly 
 My Maker, be propitious while I speak. [Power; 
 Hast thou not made me here thy substitute, 
 And these inferior far beneath me set? 
 Among unequals, what society 
 Can sort, what harmony, or true delight? 
 Which must be mutual, in proportion due 
 Given and received; but, in disparity, 
 The one intense, the other still remiss, 
 Cannot well suit with either, but soon prove 
 Tedious alike: of fellowship I speak, 
 Such as I seek, fit to participate 
 All rational delight; wherein the brute 
 Cannot be human consort: they rejoice 
 
236 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Each with their kind, lion with lioness: 
 So fitly them in pairs thou hast combined: 
 Much less can bird with beast, or fish with fowl 
 So well converse, nor with the ox the ape; 
 Worse then can man with beast, and least of all.' 
 
 Whereto the Almighty answer'd, not displeased : 
 " * A nice and subtle happiness, I see, 
 Thou to thyself proposest, in the choice 
 Of thy associates, Adam ! and wilt taste 
 No pleasure, though in pleasure, solitary. 
 What think'st thou then of me, and this my state? 
 Seem I to thee sufficiently possess'd 
 Of happiness, or not? who am alone 
 From all eternity; for none I know 
 Second to me or like, equal much less. 
 How have I then with whom to hold converse, 
 Save with the creatures which I made, and those 
 To me inferior, infinite descents 
 Beneath what other creatures are to thee?' 
 
 " He ceased, I lowly answered: ' To attain 
 The height and depth of thy eternal ways, 
 All human thoughts come short, Supreme of things! 
 Thou in thyself art perfect, and in thee 
 Is no deficience found: not so is man, 
 But in degree; the cause of his desire 
 By conversation with his like to help, 
 Or solace his defects. No need that thou 
 Should st propagate, already Infinite, 
 And through all numbers absolute, though One; 
 But man by number is to manifest 
 His single imperfection, and beget 
 
PAKADISE LOST. 237 
 
 Like of bis like, his image multiplied, 
 
 In unity defective; which requires 
 
 Collateral love, and dearest amity. 
 
 Thou in thy secresy, although alone, 
 
 Best with thyself accompanied, seek'st not 
 
 Social communication; yet, so pleased, 
 
 Canst raise thy creature to what height thou wilt 
 
 Of union or communion, deified; 
 
 I, by conversing, cannot these erect 
 
 From prone, nor in their ways complacence find.' 
 
 Thus I emboldened spake, and freedom used 
 
 Permissive, and acceptance found : which gain'd 
 
 This answer from the gracious voice Divine: 
 
 " ' Thus far to try thee, Adam, I was pleased, 
 And find thee knowing, not of beasts alone, 
 Which thou hast rightly named, but of thyself: 
 Expressing well the spirit within thee free, 
 My image, not imparted to the brute; 
 Whose fellowship therefore, unmeet for thee, 
 Good reason was thou freely shouldst dislike, 
 And be so minded still: I, ere thou spak'st, 
 Knew it not good for man to be alone; 
 And no such company, as then thou saw'st 
 Intended thee; for trial only brought, 
 To see how thou couldst judge of fit and meet: 
 What next I bring shall please thee, be assured; 
 Thy likeness, thy fit help, thy other self, 
 Thy wish exactly to thy heart's desire.' 
 
 " He ended, or I heard no more; for now 
 My earthly by his heavenly overpowered, [height. 
 Which it had long stood under strain'd to the 
 
238 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 In that celestial colloquy sublime, 
 
 As with an object that excels the sense, 
 
 Dazzled and spent, sunk down, and sought repair 
 
 Of sleep; which instantly fell on me, call'd 
 
 By nature as in aid, and closed mine eyes. 
 
 Mine eyes he closed, but open left the cell 
 
 Of fancy, my internal sight; by which 
 
 Abstract as in a trance, methought I saw, 
 
 Though sleeping, where I lay, and saw the shape 
 
 Still glorious before whom awake I stood: 
 
 Who stooping, open'd my left side, and took 
 
 From thence a rib, with cordial spirits warm, 
 
 And life-blood streaming fresh; wide was the wound, 
 
 But suddenly with flesh fill'd up, and heal'd: 
 
 The rib he form'd and fashion'd with his hands; 
 
 Under his forming hands a creature grew, 
 
 Manlike, but different sex; so lovely fair, 
 
 That what seem'd fair in all the world, seem'd now 
 
 Mean, or in her summ'd up, in her contain'd, 
 
 And in her looks, which from that time infused 
 
 Sweetness into my heart unfelt before, 
 
 And into all things from her air inspired 
 
 The spirit of love and amorous delight. 
 
 She disappear' d, and left me dark; I waked 
 
 To find her, or for ever to deplore 
 
 Her loss, and other pleasures all abjure: 
 
 When out of hope, beheld her, not far off, 
 
 Such as I saw her in my dream, adorn'd 
 
 With what all earth or heaven could bestow, 
 
 To make her amiable. On she came, 
 
 Led by her heavenly Maker, though unseen, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 239 
 
 And guided by his voice; nor uninform'd 
 Of nuptial sanctity, and marriage rites; 
 Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eye, 
 In every gesture dignity and love. 
 I, overjoy'd, could not forbear aloud: 
 
 " ' This turn hath made amends; thou hast ful- 
 Thy words, Creator bounteous and benign, [fill'd 
 Giver of all things fair! but fairest this 
 Of all thy gifts! nor enviest. I now see 
 Bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh, myself 
 Before me: Woman is her name; of man 
 Extracted: for this cause he shall forego 
 Father and mother, and to his wife adhere; 
 And they shall be one flesh, one heart, one soul.' 
 
 "She heard me thus; and though divinely 
 Yet innocence, and virgin modesty, [brought, 
 Her virtue, and the conscience of her worth, 
 That would be woo'd, and not unsought be won, 
 Not obvious, not obtrusive, but, retired, 
 The more desirable; or, to say all, 
 Nature herself, though pure of sinful thought, 
 Wrought in her so, that, seeing me, she turn'd; 
 I follow'd her; she what was honour knew, 
 And with obsequious majesty appro v'd 
 My pleaded reason. To the nuptial bower 
 I led her blushing like the morn: all heaven, 
 And happy constellations, on that hour 
 Shed their selectest influence; the earth 
 Gave signs of gratulation, and each hill; 
 Joyous the birds; fresh gales and gentle airs 
 Whisper'd it to the woods, and from their wings 
 
240 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Flung rose, flung odours from the spicy shrub 
 Disporting, till the amorous bird of night 
 Sung spousal, and bid haste the evening star, 
 On his hill top, to light the bridal lamp. 
 
 " Thus have I told thee all my state, and brought 
 My story to the sum of earthly bliss 
 Which I enjoy; and must confess to find 
 In all things else delight indeed; but such 
 As, used or not, works in the mind no change, 
 Nor vehement desire; these delicacies [flowers, 
 I mean of taste, sight, smell, herbs, fruits, and 
 Walks, and the melody of birds; but here 
 Far otherwise, transported I behold, 
 Transported touch; here passion first I felt, 
 Commotion strange! in all enjoyments else 
 Superior and unmoved, here only weak, 
 Against the charm of beauty's powerful glance. 
 Or nature fail'd in me, and left some part 
 Not proof enough such object to sustain; 
 Or from my side subducting, took perhaps 
 More than enough; at least, on her bestow'd 
 Too much of ornament, in outward show 
 Elaborate, of inward less exact. 
 For well I understand in the prime end 
 Of nature her the inferior, in the mind 
 And inward faculties, which most excel; 
 In outward also her resembling less 
 His image who made both, and less expressing 
 The character of that dominion given 
 O'er other creatures; yet when I approach 
 Her loveliness, so absolute she seems. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 241 
 
 And in herself complete, so well to know 
 Her own, that what she wills to do or say, 
 Seems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best: 
 All higher knowledge in her presence falls 
 Degraded; wisdom in discourse with her 
 Loses discountenanced, and like folly shows; 
 Authority and reason on her wait, 
 As one intended first, not after made 
 Occasionally; and to consummate all, 
 Greatness of mind, and nobleness, their seat 
 Build in her loveliest, and create an awe 
 About her, as a guard angelic placed." 
 
 To whom the angel with contracted brow: 
 " Accuse not nature, she hath done her part; 
 Do thou but thine, and be not diffident 
 Of wisdom; she deserts thee not, if thou 
 Dismiss not her when most thou need'st her nigh, 
 By attributing overmuch to things 
 Less excellent, as thou thyself perceivest. 
 For what admirest thou, what transports thee so 1 
 An outside; fair, no doubt, and worthy well 
 Thy cherishing, thy honouring, and thy love; 
 Not thy subjection: weigh with her thyself; 
 Then value: oft-times nothing profits more 
 Than self-esteem, grounded on just and right 
 Well managed; of that skill the more thou know'st, 
 The more she will acknowledge thee her head, 
 And to realities yield all her shows: 
 Made so adorn for thy delight the more, 
 So awful, that with honour thou may'st love 
 Thy mate, who sees when thou art seen least wise. 
 
 Q 
 
242 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 But if the sense of touch, whereby mankind 
 Is propagated, seem such dear delight, 
 Beyond all other, think the same vouchsafed 
 To cattle and each beast; which would not be 
 To them made common and divulged, if aught 
 Therein enjoyed were worthy to subdue 
 The soul of man, or passion in him move. 
 What higher, in her society, thou find'st 
 Attractive, human, rational, love still; 
 In loving thou dost well; in passion not, 
 Wherein true love consists not; love refines 
 The thoughts and heart enlarges, hath its seat 
 In reason, and is judicious, is the scale 
 By which to heavenly love thou may'st ascend, 
 Not sunk in carnal pleasure; for which cause 
 Among the beasts no mate for thee was found." 
 
 To whom thus, half abash'd, Adam replied: 
 " Neither her outside, form'd so fair, nor aught 
 In procreation, common to all kinds, 
 (Though higher of the genial bed by far 
 And with mysterious reverence I deem,) 
 So much delights me, as those graceful acts, 
 Those thousand decencies, that daily flow 
 From all her words and actions, mix'd with love, 
 And sweet compliance, which declare unfeign'd 
 Union of mind, or in us both one soul; 
 Harmony to behold in wedded pair, 
 More grateful than harmonious sound to the ear. 
 Yet these subject not; I to thee disclose 
 What inward thence I feel, not therefore foil'd. 
 Who meet with various objects from the sense 
 
PARADISE LOST. 243 
 
 Variously representing; yet still free, 
 Approve the best, and follow what I approve. 
 To love thou blamest me not; for love, thou say'st, 
 Leads up to heaven, is both the way and guide; 
 Bear with me then, if lawful what I ask. 
 Love not the heavenly spirits ? and how their love 
 Express they? by looks only, or do they mix 
 Irradiance, virtual or immediate touch 1 ?" 
 
 To whom the angel, with a smile that glow'd 
 Celestial rosy red, love's proper hue, 
 Answered : " Let it suffice thee, that thou know'st 
 Us happy; and without love no happiness. 
 Whatever pure thou in the body enjoy'st, 
 (And pure thou wert created,) we enjoy 
 In eminence, and obstacle find none, 
 Of membrane, joint, or limb, exclusive bars; 
 Easier than air with air, if spirits embrace, 
 Total they mix, union of pure with pure 
 Desiring; nor restrain'd conveyance need, 
 As flesh to mix with flesh, or soul with soul. 
 But I can now no more; the parting sun, 
 Beyond the earth's green cape and verdant isles 
 Hesperian, sets; my signal to depart. 
 Be strong, live happy, and love, but, first of all. 
 Him, whom to love is to obey, and keep 
 His great command; take heed, lest passion sway 
 Thy judgment to do aught which else free will 
 Would not admit: thine, and of all thy sons, 
 The weal or woe in thee is placed: beware! 
 1 in thy persevering shall rejoice, 
 And all the blest: stand fast; to stand or fall, 
 
244 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Free, in thine own arbitrement it lies. 
 Perfect within, no outward aid require; 
 And all temptation to transgress repel." 
 
 So saying, he arose: whom Adam thus 
 Followed with benediction: " Since to part, 
 Go, heavenly guest, ethereal messenger, 
 Sent from whose sovereign goodness I adore. 
 Gentle to me, and affable hath been 
 Thy condescension; and shall be honour'd ever 
 With grateful memory: thou to mankind 
 Be good and friendly still, and oft return." 
 
 So parted they; the angel up to heaven, 
 From the thick shade, and Adam to his bower. 
 
 END OF BOOK VITI. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 BOOK IX. 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Satan, having compassed the earth, with meditated guile re- 
 turns, as a mist, by ni<jht into Paradise, and enters into the 
 serpent sleeping. Adam and Eve in the morning go forth 
 to their labours, which Eve proposes to divide in several 
 places, each labouring apart. Adam consents not, alleging 
 the danger, lest that enemy, of whom they were forewarned, 
 should attempt her found alone. Eve, loath to be thought not 
 circumspect or firm enough, urges her going apart, the rather 
 desirous to make trial of her strength : Adam at last yields. 
 The serpent finds her alone; his subtle approach, first gaz- 
 ing, then speaking, with much flattery extolling Eve above 
 all other creatures. Eve, wondering to hear the serpent 
 speak, ask show he attained to human speech and such un- 
 derstanding, not till now : the serpent answers, that by tast- 
 ing of a certain tree in the garden he attained both to speech 
 and reason, till then void of both. Eve requires him to bring 
 her to that tree, and finds it to be the tree of knowledge for- 
 bidden. The serpent, now grown bolder t with many wiles 
 and arguments induces her at length to eat; she pleased with 
 the taste, deliberates awhile whether to impart thereof to Adam 
 or not; at last brings him of the fruit; relates what persuaded 
 her to eat thereof. Adam, at first amazed, but perceiving her 
 lost, resolves, through vehemence of love, to perish with her; 
 and, extenuating the trespass, eats also of the fruit. The ef- 
 fects thereof in them both; they seek to cover their nakedness; 
 jall to variance and accusation of one another. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 BOOK IX. 
 
 No more of talk, where God or angel guest 
 With man. as with his friend, familiar used 
 To sit indulgent, and with him partake 
 Rural repast; permitting him the while 
 Venial discourse, unblamed. I now must change 
 Those notes to tragic; foul distrust, and breach 
 Disloyal on the part of man, revolt 
 And disobedience; on the part of Heaven, 
 Now alienated, distance and distaste, 
 Anger and just rebuke, and judgment given, 
 That brought into this world a world of woe, 
 Sin and her shadow Death, and Misery, 
 Death's harbinger. Sad task! yet argument 
 Not less, but more heroic, than the wrath 
 Of stern Achilles on his foe pursued 
 Thrice fugitive about Troy wall; or rage 
 Of Turnus for Lavinia dis-espoused; 
 Or Neptune's ire, or Juno's, that so long 
 Perplex'd the Greek, and Cytherea's son; 
 If answerable style I can obtain 
 Of my celestial patroness, who deigns 
 
248 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Her nightly visitation unimplored, 
 
 And dictates to me slumbering, or inspires 
 
 Easy my unpremeditated verse: 
 
 Since first this subject, for heroic song, 
 
 Pleased me, long choosing, and beginning late; 
 
 Not sedulous by nature to indite 
 
 Wars, hitherto the only argument 
 
 Heroic deem'd; chief mastery, to dissect, 
 
 With long and tedious havoc, fabled knights, 
 
 In battles feign'd; the better fortitude 
 
 Of patience and heroic martyrdom 
 
 Unsung; or to describe races and games, 
 
 Or tilting furniture, emblazon'd shields, 
 
 Impresses quaint, caparisons and steeds, 
 
 Bases and tinsel trappings, gorgeous knights, 
 
 At joust and tournament; then marshall'd feast, 
 
 Served up in hall with sewers and seneschals; 
 
 The skill of artifice or office mean, 
 
 Not that which justly gives heroic name 
 
 To person or to poem. Me, of these 
 
 Nor skill'd nor studious, higher argument 
 
 Remains, sufficient of itself to raise 
 
 That name, unless an age too late, or cold 
 
 Climate, or years, damp my intended wing 
 
 Depress'd; and much they may, if all be mine, 
 
 Not hers, who brings it nightly to my ear. 
 
 The sun was sunk; and after him the star 
 Of Hesperus, whose office is to bring 
 Twilight upon the earth, short arbiter 
 'Twixt day and night; and now, from end to end, 
 Night's hemisphere had veil'd the horizon round: 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 240 
 
 When Satan, who late fled before the threats 
 
 Of Gabriel out of Eden, now improved 
 
 In meditated fraud and malice, bent 
 
 On man's destruction, maugre what might hap 
 
 Of heavier on himself, fearless return' d. 
 
 By night he fled, and at midnight return'd 
 
 From compassing the earth; cautious of day, 
 
 Since Uriel, regent of the sun, descried 
 
 His entrance, and forewarn'd the cherubim [driven, 
 
 That kept their watch; thence full of anguish 
 
 The space of seven continued nights he rode 
 
 With darkness; thrice the equinoctial line 
 
 He circled, four times cross'd the car of night, 
 
 From pole to pole, traversing each colour; 
 
 On the eighth return'd; and on the coast averse 
 
 From entrance or cherubic watch, by stealth 
 
 Found unsuspected way. There was a place, 
 
 Now not, though sin, not time, first wrought the 
 
 Where Tigris, at the foot of Paradise, [change, 
 
 Into a gulf shot under ground, till part 
 
 Hose up a fountain, by the tree of life : 
 
 In with the river sunk, and with it rose 
 
 Satan, involved in rising mist; then sought 
 
 Where to lie hid: sea he had search'd, and land 
 
 From Eden, over Pontus, and the pool 
 
 Maeotis, up beyond the river Ob; 
 
 Downward as far antarctic; and in length, 
 
 West from Orontes to the ocean, barr'd 
 
 At Darien; thence to the land where flows 
 
 Ganges and Indus. Thus the orb he roam'd 
 
 With narrow search; and with inspection deep 
 
250 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Considered every creature, which of all 
 
 Most opportune might serve his wiles, and found 
 
 The serpent subtlest beast of all the field. 
 
 Him, after long debate, irresolute 
 
 Of thoughts revolved, his final sentence chose, 
 
 Fit vessel, fittest imp of fraud, in whom 
 
 To enter, and his dark suggestions hide 
 
 From sharpest sight; for, in the wily snake 
 
 Whatever slights, none would suspicious mark, 
 
 As from his wit and native subtlety 
 
 Proceeding; which, in other beasts observed, 
 
 Doubt might beget of diabolic power 
 
 Active within, beyond the sense of brute. 
 
 Thus he resolved : but first, from inward grief, 
 
 His bursting passion into plaints thus pour'd: 
 
 " earth ! how like to heaven, if not preferr'd 
 More justly, seat worthier of gods, as built 
 With second thoughts, reforming what was old ! 
 For what God, after better, worse would build ? 
 Terrestrial heaven, danc'd round by other heavens, 
 That shine, yet bear their bright officious lamps, 
 Light above light, for thee alone, as seems, 
 In thee concentring all their precious beams 
 Of sacred influence ! As God in heaven 
 Is centre, yet extends to all; so thou, 
 Centring, receiv'st from all those orbs; in thee, 
 Not in themselves, all their known virtue appears 
 Productive in herb, plant, and nobler birth 
 Of creatures, animate with gradual life 
 Of growth, sense, reason, all summ'd up in man. 
 With what delight could I have walk'd thee round 
 
PARADISE LOST. 251 
 
 If I could joy in aught, sweet interchange 
 
 Of hill, and valley, rivers, woods, and plains; 
 
 Now land, now sea, and shores with forest crown'd, 
 
 Rocks, dens, and caves. But I in none of these 
 
 Find place or refuge; and the more I see 
 
 Pleasures about me, so much more I feel 
 
 Torment within me, as from the hateful siege 
 
 Of contraries; all good to me becomes [state. 
 
 Bane, and in heaven much worse would be my 
 
 But neither here seek I, no, nor in heaven 
 
 To dwell, unless by mastering heaven's Supreme; 
 
 Nor hope to be myself less miserable 
 
 By what I seek, but others to make such 
 
 As I, though thereby worse to me redound: 
 
 For only in destroying I find ease 
 
 To my relentless thoughts; and him destroy'd, 
 
 Or won to what may work his utter loss, 
 
 For whom all this was made, all this will soon 
 
 Follow, as to him link'd in weal or woe; 
 
 In woe then; that destruction wide may range. 
 
 To me shall be the glory sole among 
 
 The infernal powers, in one day to have marr'd, 
 
 What he, Almighty styled, six nights and days 
 
 Continued making, and who knows how long 
 
 Before had been contriving? though perhaps 
 
 Not longer than since I, in one night, freed 
 
 From servitude inglorious well nigh half 
 
 The angelic name, and thinner left the throng 
 
 Of his adorers. He, to be avenged, 
 
 And to repair his numbers thus impair'd> 
 
 Whether such virtue spent of old now fail'd 
 
252 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 More angels to create, if they at least 
 
 Are his created; or, to spite us more, 
 
 Determined to advance into our room 
 
 A creature form'd of earth, and him endow, 
 
 Exalted from so base original, 
 
 With heavenly spoils, our spoils. What he decreed, 
 
 He effected; man he made, and for him built 
 
 Magnificent, this world, and earth his seat; 
 
 Him lord pronounced; and, indignity ! 
 
 Subjected to his service angel-wings, 
 
 And flaming ministers, to watch and tend 
 
 Their earthly charge. Of these the vigilance 
 
 I dread; and, to elude, thus wrapp'd in mist 
 
 Of midnight vapour, glide obscure, and pry 
 
 In every bush and brake, where hap may find 
 
 The serpent sleeping, in whose mazy folds 
 
 To hide me, and the dark intent I bring. 
 
 foul descent! that I, who erst contended 
 
 With gods to sit the highest, am now constrained 
 
 Into a beast; and, mix'd with bestial slime, 
 
 This essence to incarnate and imbrute, 
 
 That to the height of deity aspired! 
 
 But what will not ambition and revenge 
 
 Descend to? Who aspires, must down as low 
 
 As high he soar'd; obnoxious, first or last, 
 
 To basest things. Revenge, at first though sweet, 
 
 Bitter ere long, back on itself recoils; 
 
 Let it; I reck not, so it light well aim'd, 
 
 Since higher I fall short, on him who next 
 
 Provokes my envy, this new favourite 
 
 Of heaven, this man of clay, son of despite; 
 
PARADISE LOST. 253 
 
 Whom, us the more to spite, his Maker raised 
 From dust; spite then with spite is best repaid." 
 
 So saying, through each thicket dank or dry, 
 Like a black mist low creeping, he held on 
 His midnight search, where soonest he might find 
 The serpent: him fast sleeping soon he found, 
 In labyrinth of many a round self-roll'd, 
 His head the midst, well stor'd with subtle wiles; 
 Not yet in horrid shade or dismal den, 
 Nor nocent yet, but on the grassy herb 
 Fearless unfear'd he slept. In at his mouth 
 The Devil enter'd, and his brutal sense, 
 In heart or head, possessing, soon inspired 
 With act intelligential; but his sleep 
 Disturb'd not, waiting close the approach of morn. 
 
 Now, when as sacred light began to dawn 
 In Eden on the humid flowers, that breathed 
 Their morning incense, when all things that breathe 
 From the earth's great altar send up silent praise 
 To the Creator and his nostrils fill 
 With grateful smell, forth came the human pair, 
 And join'd their vocal worship to the quire 
 Of creatures wanting voice; that done, partake 
 The season, prime for sweetest scents and airs: 
 Then commune how that day they best may ply 
 Their growing work; for much their work outgrew 
 The hands' dispatch of two, gardening so wide; 
 And Eve first to her husband thus began. 
 
 " Adam, well may we labour still to dress 
 This garden, still to tend plant, herb, and flower, 
 Our pleasant task enjoined; but, still more hands 
 
254 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Aid us, the work under our labour grows, 
 Luxurious by restraint; what we by day 
 Lop overgrown, or prune, or prop, or bind, 
 One night or two with wanton growth derides, 
 Tending to wild. Thou therefore now advise, 
 Or hear what to my mind first thoughts present: 
 Let us divide our labours; thou, where choice 
 Leads thee, or where most needs, whether to wind 
 The woodbine round this arbour, or direct 
 The clasping ivy where to climb: while I, 
 In yonder spring of roses intermix'd 
 With myrtle, find what to redress till noon: 
 For while so near each other thus all day 
 Our task we choose, what wonder if, so near, 
 Looks intervene and smiles, or object new 
 Casual discourse draw on ? which intermits 
 Our day's work, brought to little, though begun 
 Early; and the hour of supper comes unearn'd." 
 
 To whom mild answer Adam thus return'd: 
 " Sole Eve, associate sole, to me beyond 
 Compare above all living creatures dear! [ploy'd 
 Well hast thou motion'd, well thy thoughts em- 
 How we might best fulfil the work which here 
 God hath assign'd us, nor of me shalt pass 
 Unpraised: for nothing lovelier can be found 
 In woman, than to study household good, 
 And good works in her husband to promote. 
 Yet not so strictly hath our Lord imposed 
 Labour, as to debar us when we need 
 Refreshment, whether food, or talk between, 
 Food of the mind or this sweet intercourse 
 
 
PARADISE LOST. 255 
 
 Of looks and smiles; for smiles from reason flow, 
 To brute denied, and are of love the food; 
 Love, not the lowest end of human life. 
 For not to irksome toil, but to delight, 
 He made us, and delight to reason join'd. [hands 
 These paths and bowers doubt not but our joint 
 Will keep from wilderness with ease, as wide 
 As we need walk; till younger hands ere long 
 Assist us: but if much converse perhaps 
 Thee satiate, to short absence I could yield: 
 For solitude sometimes is best society, 
 And short retirement urges sweet return. 
 But other doubt possesses me, lest harm 
 Befall thee severed from me; for thou know'st 
 What hath been warn'd us; what malicious foe, 
 Envying our happiness, and of his own 
 Despairing, seeks to work us woe and shame 
 By sly assault; and somewhere nigh at hand 
 Watches, no doubt, with greedy hope to find 
 His wish and best advantage, us asunder; 
 Hopeless to circumvent us join'd, where each 
 To other speedy aid might lend at need: 
 Whether his first design be to withdraw 
 Our fealty from God, or to disturb 
 Conjugal love, than which, perhaps, no bliss 
 Enjoy 'd by us excites his envy more; 
 Or this, or worse, leave not the faithful side 
 That gave thee being, still shades thee, and pro- 
 The wife, where danger or dishonour lurks, [tects. 
 Safest and seemliest by her husband stays, 
 Who guards her, or with her the worst endures." 
 
256 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 To whom the virgin majesty of Eve, 
 As one who loves, and some unkindness meets, 
 With sweet austere composure, thus replied: 
 " Offspring of heaven and earth, and all earth's 
 That such an enemy we have, who seeks [lord ! 
 Our ruin, both by thee inform' d I learn, 
 And from the parting angel overheard, 
 As in a shady nook I stood behind, 
 Just then returned at shut of evening flowers. 
 But that thou should'st my firmness therefore 
 To God or thee, because we have a foe [doubt, 
 May tempt it, I expected not to hear. 
 His violence thou fear'st not, being such 
 As we, not capable of death or pain, 
 Can either not receive, or can repel. 
 His fraud is then thy fear; which plain infers 
 Thy equal fear, that my firm faith and love 
 Can by his fraud be shaken, or seduced; [breast, 
 Thoughts, which how found they harbour in thy 
 Adam, misthought of her to thee so dear?" 
 
 To whom with healing words, Adam replied: 
 " Daughter of God and man, immortal Eve! 
 For such thou art; from sin and blame entire: 
 Not diffident of thee, do I dissuade 
 Thy absence from my sight, but to avoid 
 The attempt itself, intended by our foe. [asperses 
 For he who tempts, though in vain, at least 
 The tempted with dishonour foul; supposed 
 Not incorruptible of faith, not proof 
 Against temptation: thou thyself with scorn 
 And anger would'st resent the offer'd wron^, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 257 
 
 Though ineffectual found; misdeem not then, 
 If such affront I labour to avert 
 From thee, alone, which on us both at once, 
 The enemy, though bold, will hardly dare; 
 Or daring, first on me the assault shall light. 
 Nor thou his malice and false guile contemn: 
 Subtle he needs must be, who could seduce 
 Angels; nor think superfluous others' aid. 
 I, from the influence of thy looks, receive 
 Access in every virtue; in thy sight 
 More wise, more watchful, stronger if need were 
 Of outward strength; while shame, thou looking 
 Shame to be overcome or overreach'd, [on, 
 
 Would utmost vigour raise, and raised unite. 
 Why should'st not thou like sense within thee feel 
 When I am present, and thy trial choose 
 With me, best witness of thy virtue tried !" 
 
 So spake domestic Adam, in his care 
 And matrimonial love; but Eve, who thought 
 Less attributed to her faith sincere, 
 Thus her reply, with accent sweet, renew'd: 
 
 " If this be our condition, thus to dwell 
 In narrow circuit, straiten'd by a foe, 
 Subtle or violent, we not endued 
 Single, with like defence, wherever met, 
 How are we happy, still in fear of harm? 
 But harm precedes not sin; only our foe, 
 Tempting, affronts us with his foul esteem 
 Of our integrity; his foul esteem 
 Sticks no dishonour on our front, but turns 
 
 Foul on himself: then wherefore shunn'd or fear'd 
 
 R 
 
258 
 
 PAKADISE LOST. 
 
 By us ? who rather double honour gain 
 
 From his surmise, proved false; find peace within, 
 
 Favour from Heaven, our witness, from the event. 
 
 And what is faith, love, virtue unassay'd, 
 
 Alone, without exterior help sustain'd? 
 
 Let us not then suspect our happy state, 
 
 Left so imperfect by the Maker wise, 
 
 As not secure to single, or combined. 
 
 Frail is our happiness if this be so, 
 
 And Eden were no Eden, thus exposed." 
 
 To whom thus Adam fervently replied : 
 " Woman ! best are all things as the will 
 Of God ordain'd them; his creating hand 
 Nothing imperfect or deficient left 
 Of all that he created: much less man, 
 Or aught that might his happy state secure, 
 Secure from outward force; within himself 
 The danger lies, yet lies within his power: 
 Against his will, he can receive no harm: 
 But God left free the will; for what obeys 
 Reason, is free; and reason he made right 
 But bid her well beware, and still erect; 
 Lest, by some fair- appearing good surprised, 
 She dictate false, and misinform the will 
 To do what God expressly hath forbid. 
 Not then mistrust, but tender love, enjoins 
 That I should mind thee oft; and mind thou in*. 
 Firm we subsist, yet possible to swerve; 
 Since reason not impossibly may meet 
 Some specious object, by the foe suborn'd, 
 And fall into deception unaware, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 259 
 
 Not keeping strictest watch, as she was warn'd. 
 
 Seek not temptation then, which to avoid 
 
 Were better, and most likely, if from me 
 
 Thou sever not; trial will come unsought. 
 
 Wouldst thou approve thy constancy, approve 
 
 First thy obedience; the other who can know 1 ? 
 
 Not seeing thee attempted, who attest 1 ? 
 
 But if thou think trial unsought may find 
 
 Us both securer, than thus warn'd thou seem'st, 
 
 Go; for thy stay, not free, absents thee more; 
 
 Go in thy native innocence; rely 
 
 On what thou hast of virtue; summon all; 
 
 For God towards thee hath done his part; do thine.'"' 
 
 So spake the patriarch of mankind; but Eve 
 Persisted; yet submiss, though last, replied: 
 
 " With thy permission then, and thus forewarnM. 
 Chiefly by what thy own last reasoning words 
 Touched only; that our trial, when least sought, 
 May find us both perhaps far less prepared; 
 The willinger I go, nor much expect 
 A foe so proud will first the weaker seek; 
 So bent, the more shall shame him his repulse." 
 
 Thus saying, from her husband's hand her hand 
 Soft she withdrew: and like a wood-nymph light, 
 Oread or Dryad, or of Delia's train, 
 Betook her to the groves; but Delia's self 
 In gait surpass'd, and goddess-like deport; 
 Though not as she, with bow and quiver armed, 
 But with such gardening tools as art, yet rude, 
 Guiltless of fire, had form'd, or angels brought. 
 To Pales, or Pomona, thus adorn'd, 
 
260 PARADISE LOST, 
 
 Likest she seem'd; Pomona, when she fled 
 
 Vertumnus; or to Ceres in her prime, 
 
 Yet virgin of Proserpina from Jove. 
 
 Her long with ardent look his eye pursued, 
 
 Delighted, but desiring more her stay. 
 
 Oft he to her his charge of quick retur 
 
 Repeated; she to him as oft engaged 
 
 To be return'd by noon, amid the bower, 
 
 And all things in best order to invite 
 
 Noontide repast, or afternoon's repose. 
 
 much deceived, much failing, hapless Eve, 
 
 Of thy presumed return ! event perverse ! 
 
 Thou never, from that hour, in Paradise 
 
 Found'st either sweet repast, or sound repose, 
 
 Such ambush, hid among sweet flowers and shades, 
 
 Waited, with hellish rancour imminent, 
 
 To intercept thy way, or send thee back 
 
 Despoil'd of innocence, of faith, of bliss. 
 
 For now, and since first break of dawn, the fiend, 
 
 Mere serpent in appearance, forth was come, 
 
 And on his quest, where likeliest he might find 
 
 The only two of mankind, but in them 
 
 The whole included race, his purposed prey. 
 
 In bower and field he sought, where any tuft 
 
 Of grove, or garden-plot more pleasant, lay, 
 
 Their tendance, or plantation for delight; 
 
 By fountain or by shady rivulet [find 
 
 He sought them both, but wish'd his hap might 
 
 Eve separate; he wish'd, but not with hope 
 
 Of what so seldom chanced, when, to his wish, 
 
 Beyond his hope, Eve separate he spies, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Veil'd in a cloud of fragrance, where she stood, 
 Half spied, so thick the roses blushing round 
 About her glow'd, oft stooping to support [gay 
 Each flower of slender stalk, whose head, though 
 Carnation, purple, azure, or speck'd with gold, 
 Hung drooping, unsustain'd ; them she upstays 
 Gently with myrtle band, mindless the while 
 Herself, though fairest unsupported flower, 
 From her best prop so far, and storm so nigh. 
 Nearer he drew, and many a walk traversed 
 Of statliest covert, cedar, pine, or palm ; 
 Then voluble and bold, now hid, now seen, 
 Among thick-woven arborets and flowers, 
 Imbordered on each bank, the hand of Eve: 
 Spot more delicious than those gardens feign'cl 
 Or of reviv'd Adonis, or renown'd 
 Alcinous, host of old Laertes' son 
 Or that, not mystic, where the sapient king 
 Held dalliance with his fair Egyptian spouse. 
 Much he the place admired, the person more. 
 As one who, long in populous city pent, 
 Where houses thick and sewers annoy the air, 
 Forth issuing, on a summer's morn, to breathe 
 Among the pleasant villages and farms 
 Adjoin'd, from each thing met conceives delight, 
 The smell of grain, or tedded grass, or kine, 
 Or dairy, each rural sight, each rural sound ; 
 If chance, with nymph-like step, fair virgin pass, 
 What pleasing seem'd, for her now pleases more; 
 She most, and in her look sums all delight : 
 Such pleasure took the serpent to behold 
 
262 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 This flowery plat, the sweet recess of Eve, 
 Thus early, thus alone: her heavenly form 
 Angelic, but more soft and feminine, 
 Her graceful innocence, her every air 
 Of gesture, or least action, over-awed 
 His malice, and with rapine sweet bereaved 
 His fierceness of the fierce intent it brought: 
 That space the evil one abstracted stood 
 From his own evil, and for the time remain'd 
 Stupidly good, of enmity disarrn'd, 
 Of guile, of hate, of envy, of revenge; 
 But the hot hell that always in him burns, 
 Though in mid heaven, soon ended his delight, 
 And tortures him now more, the more he sees 
 Of pleasure not for him ordain'd. Then soon 
 Fierce hate he recollects, and all his thoughts 
 Of mischief gratulating, thus excites: 
 
 " Thoughts, whither have ye led me? with what 
 Compulsion, thus transported, to forget [sweet 
 What hither brought us? hate, not love, nor hope 
 Of Paradise for hell; hope here to taste 
 Of pleasure, but all pleasure to destroy, 
 Save what is in destroying: other joy 
 To me is lost. Then, let me not let pass 
 Occasion which now smiles; behold alone 
 The woman, opportune to all attempts; 
 Her husband (for I view far round,) not nigh; 
 Whose higher intellectual more I shun, 
 And strength, of courage haughty, and of limb 
 Heroic built, though of terrestrial mould, 
 Foe not informidable! exempt from wound, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 263 
 
 I not; so much hath hell debased, and pain 
 Enfeebled me, to what I was in heaven. 
 She fair, divinely fair, fit love for gods! 
 Not terrible, though terror be in love 
 And beauty, not approach'd by stronger hate, 
 Hate stronger, under show of love well feign'd, 
 The way which to her ruin now I tend." 
 
 So spake the enemy of mankind, enclosed 
 In serpent, inmate bad; and toward Eve 
 Address'd his way; not with indented wave, 
 Prone on the ground, as since; but on his rear, 
 Circular base of rising folds, that tower'd, 
 Fold above fold, a surging maze; his head 
 Crested aloft, and carbuncle his eyes; 
 With burnish'd neck of verdant gold, erect 
 Amidst his circling spires, that on the grass 
 Floated redundant: pleasing was his shape, 
 And lovely; never since of serpent kind 
 Lovelier; not those that in Illyria changed 
 Hermione and Cadmus, or the god 
 In Epidaurus; nor to which transform'd, 
 Ammonian Jove or Capitoline was seen; 
 He with Olympias, this with her who bore 
 Scipio, the height of Rome. With tract oblique, 
 At first, as one who sought access, but fear'd 
 To interrupt, side-long he works his way: 
 As when a ship, by skilful steersman wrought, 
 Nigh river's mouth, or foreland, where the wind 
 Veers off, as oft so steers, and shifts her sail; 
 So varied he, and of his tortuous train 
 Curl'd many a wanton wreath, in sight of Eve, 
 
264 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 To lure her eye; she, busied, heard the sound 
 
 Of rustling leaves, but minded not, as used 
 
 To such disport before her through the field, 
 
 From every beast; more duteous at her call, 
 
 Than at Circean call, the herd disguised. 
 
 He, bolder now, uncall'd before her stood, 
 
 But as in gaze admiring: oft he bow'd 
 
 His turret crest, and sleek enamell'd neck, 
 
 Fawning; and lick'd the ground whereon she trod, 
 
 His gentle dumb expression turn'd at length 
 
 The eye of Eve to mark his play; he, glad 
 
 Of her attention gain'd, with serpent tongue 
 
 Organic, or impulse of vocal air, 
 
 His fraudulent temptation thus began: 
 
 " Wonder not, sovereign mistress, if perhaps 
 Thou canst, who art sole wonder! much less arm 
 Thy looks, the heaven of mildness, with disdain. 
 Displeased that I approach thee thus, and gaze 
 Insatiate; I, thus single; nor have feared 
 Thy awful brow, more awful thus retired. 
 Fairest resemblance of thy Maker fair, 
 Thee all things living gaze on, all things thine 
 By gift, and thy celestial beauty adore, 
 With ravishment beheld! there best beheld, 
 Where universally admired; but here, 
 In this inclosure wild, these beasts among, 
 Beholders rude, and shallow to discern 
 Half what in thee is fair, one man except, [seen 
 Who sees thee? (and what is one?) who shouldst be 
 A goddess among gods, adored and served 
 By angels numberless, thy daily train." 
 
PARADISE LOST. 265 
 
 So glozed the tempter, and his proem tuned: 
 Into the heart of Eve his words made way, 
 Though at the voice much marvelling; at length, 
 Not unamazed, she thus in answer spake: [nounced 
 
 " What may this mean ? language of man, pro- 
 By tongue of brute, and human sense expressed 
 The first at least of these I thought denied 
 To beasts, whom God, on their creation- day, 
 Created mute to all articulate sound: 
 The latter I demur; for in their looks 
 Much reason, and in their actions, oft appears. 
 Thee, serpent, subtlest beast of all the field 
 I knew, but not with human voice endued: 
 Redouble then this miracle, and say, 
 How earnest thou speakable of mute; and how 
 To me so friendly grown above the rest 
 Of brutal kind, that daily are in sight 
 Say, for such wonder claims attention due." 
 
 To whom the guileful tempter thus replied: 
 " Empress of this fair world, resplendent Eve! 
 Easy to me it is to tell thee all [be obeyed: 
 
 What thou command'st, and right thou should'st 
 I was at first as other beasts that graze 
 The trodden herb, of abject thoughts and low, 
 As was my food; nor aught but food discern'd, 
 Or sex, and apprehended nothing high: 
 Till, on a day roving the field, I chanced 
 A goodly tree far distant to behold 
 Laden with fruit of fairest colours mix'd, 
 Ruddy and gold: I nearer drew to gaze, 
 When from the boughs a savoury odour blown, 
 
266 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Grateful to appetite, more pleased my sense 
 
 Than smell of sweetest fennel, or the teats 
 
 Of ewe or goat dropping with milk at even, 
 
 Unsuck'd of lamb or kid, that tend their play. 
 
 To satisfy the sharp desire I had 
 
 Of tasting those fair apples, I resolved 
 
 Not to defer; hunger and thirst at once, 
 
 Powerful persuaders, quicken'd at the scent 
 
 Of that alluring fruit, urged me so keen. 
 
 About the mossy trunk I wound me soon, 
 
 For, high from ground, the branches would require 
 
 Thy utmost reach, or Adam's: round the tree, 
 
 All other beasts that saw, with like desire, 
 
 Longing and envying stood, but could not reach. 
 
 Amid the tree now got, where plenty hung 
 
 Tempting so nigh, to pluck and eat my fill 
 
 I spared not; for such pleasure till that hour, 
 
 At feed or fountain, never had I found. 
 
 Sated at length, ere long I might perceive 
 
 Strange alteration in me, to degree 
 
 Of reason in my inward powers; and speech 
 
 Wanted not long, though to this shape retain'd. 
 
 Thenceforth to speculations high or deep 
 
 I turn'd my thoughts, and with capacious mind 
 
 Consider'd all things visible in heaven, 
 
 On earth, or middle, all things fair and good; 
 
 But all that fair and good in thy divine 
 
 Semblance, and in thy beauty's heavenly ray, 
 
 United I beheld; no fair to thine 
 
 Equivalent, or second! which compell'd 
 
 Me thus, though importune perhaps, to come 
 
PARADISE LOST. 267 
 
 And gaze, and worship thee, of right declar'd 
 Sovereign of creatures, universal dame!" 
 
 So talk'd the spirited sly snake; and Eve, 
 Yet more amazed, unwary thus replied. 
 u Serpent, thy overpraising leaves in doubt 
 The virtue of that fruit, in thee first proved: 
 But say, where grows the tree? from hence how 
 For many are the trees of God that grow [far? 
 In Paradise, and various, yet unknown 
 To us; in such abundance lies our choice, 
 As leaves a greater store of fruit untouch'd 
 Still hanging incorruptible, till men 
 Grow up to their provision, and more hands 
 Help to disburden Nature of her birth." 
 
 To whom the wily adder, blythe and glad: 
 " Empress, the way is ready, and not long. 
 Beyond a row of myrtles, on a flat, 
 Fast by a fountain, one small thicket past 
 Of blowing myrrh and balm: if thou accept 
 My conduct, I can bring thee thither soon." 
 
 " Lead then," said Eve. He, leading, swiftly roll'd 
 In tangles, and made intricate seem straight, 
 To mischief swift. Hope elevates, and joy 
 Brightens his crest; as when a wandering fire, 
 Compact of unctuous vapour, which the night 
 Condenses, and the cold environs round, 
 Kindled through agitation to a flame, 
 Which oft, they say, some evil spirit attends, 
 Hovering and blazing with delusive light, 
 Misleads the amaz'd night-wanderer from his way, 
 Through bogs and mires, and oft through pond or pool. 
 
268 PAEADISE LOST. 
 
 There swallow'd up and lost, from succour far: 
 
 So glister'd the dire snake, and into fraud 
 
 Led Eve, our credulous mother, to the tree 
 
 Of prohibition, root of all our woe; 
 
 Which when she saw, thus to her guide she spake. 
 
 " Serpent, we might have spared our coming 
 
 hither, 
 
 Fruitless to me, though fruit be here to excess, 
 The credit of whose virtue rests with thee; 
 Wondrous indeed, if cause of such effects! 
 But of this tree we may not taste nor touch; 
 God so commanded, and left that command 
 Sole daughter of his voice; the rest, we live 
 Law to ourselves; our reason is our law." 
 
 To whom the tempter guilefully replied: 
 " Indeed ! hath God then said that of the fruit 
 Of all these garden- trees ye shall not eat, 
 Yet lords declared of all in earth or air?" 
 
 To whom thus Eve, yet sinless: " Of the fruit 
 Of each tree in the garden we may eat; 
 But of the fruit of this fair tree, amidst 
 The garden, God hath said, ' Ye shall not eat 
 Thereof, nor shall ye touch it, lest ye die.' " 
 
 She scarce had said, though brief, when now 
 
 more bold, 
 
 The tempter, but with show of zeal and love 
 To man, and indignation at his wrong, 
 New parts put on; and, as to passion moved, 
 Fluctuates disturb'd, yet comely and in act 
 Raised, as of some great matter to begin. 
 As when of old some orator renowned, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 269 
 
 In Athens or free Rome, where eloquence [dress'd, 
 Flourished, since mute, to some great cause ad- 
 Stood in himself collected; while each part, 
 Motion, each act, won audience ere the tongue; 
 Sometimes in height began, as no delay 
 Of preface brooking, through his zeal of right: 
 So standing, moving, or to height upgrown, 
 The tempter, all impassion'd, thus began. 
 
 " sacred, wise, and wisdom-giving Plant ! 
 Mother of science ! now I feel thy power 
 Within me clear, not only to discern 
 Things in their causes, but to trace the ways 
 Of highest agents, deem'd however wise. 
 Queen of this universe! do not believe 
 Those rigid threats of death: ye shall not die. 
 How should ye? by the fruit? it gives you life 
 To knowledge: by the threatened look on me, 
 Me, who have touch'd and tasted; yet both live, 
 And life more perfect have attain'd than fate 
 Meant me, by venturing higher than rny lot. 
 Shall that be shut to man which to the beast 
 Is open? or will God incense his ire 
 For such a petty trespass? and not praise 
 Kather your dauntless virtue, whom the pain 
 Of death denounced, whatever thing death be, 
 Deterr'd not from achieving what might lead 
 To happier life, knowledge of good and evil; 
 Of good, how just? of evil, if what is evil 
 Be real, why not known, since easier shunn'dl 
 God therefore cannot hurt ye, and be just: 
 Not just, not God; not fear'd then, nor obey'd: 
 
270 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Your fear itself of death removes the fear. 
 
 Why then was this forbid? why, but to awe? 
 
 Why, but to keep ye low and ignorant, 
 
 His worshippers? He knows, that in the day 
 
 Ye eat thereof, your eyes, that seem so clear, 
 
 Yet are but dim, shall perfectly be then 
 
 Open'd and clear'd, and ye shall be as gods, 
 
 Knowing both good and evil, as they know. 
 
 That ye shall be as gods, since I as man, 
 
 Internal man, is but proportion meet; 
 
 I of brute, human; ye of human, gods. 
 
 So ye shall die perhaps, by putting off 
 
 Human, to put on gods; death to be wish'd, [bring. 
 
 Though threaten'd, which no worse than this can 
 
 And what are gods, that man may not become 
 
 As they, participating god-like food? 
 
 The gods are first, and that advantage use, 
 
 On our belief, that all from them proceeds: 
 
 I question it; for this fair earth I see, 
 
 Warm'd by the sun, producing every kind; 
 
 Them, nothing: if they all things, who enclosed 
 
 Knowledge of good and evil in this tree, 
 
 That whoso eats thereof forthwith attains 
 
 Wisdom without their leave? and wherein lies 
 
 The offence, that man should thus attain to know? 
 
 What can your knowledge hurt him, or this tree 
 
 Impart against his will, if all be his? 
 
 Or is it envy? and can envy dwell 
 
 In heavenly breasts? These, these, and many more 
 
 Causes import your need of this fair fruit. 
 
 Goddess humane, reach then, and freely taste." 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 271 
 
 He ended; and his words, replete with guile, 
 Into her heart too easy entrance won. 
 Fix'd on the fruit she gazed, which to behold 
 Might tempt alone; and in her ears the sound 
 Yet rung of his persuasive words, impregn'd 
 With reason, to her seeming, and with truth: 
 Meanwhile the hour of noon drew on, and waked 
 An eager appetite, raised by the smell 
 So savoury of that fruit, which with desire 
 Inclinable now grown to touch or taste, 
 Solicited her longing eye; yet first, 
 Pausing awhile, thus to herself she mused : 
 
 " Great are thy virtues, doubtless, best of fruits, 
 Though kept from man, and worthy to be adrnir'd; 
 Whose taste, too long foreborne, at first essay, 
 Gave elocution to the mute, and taught 
 The tongue not made for speech to speak thy 
 Thy praise He also, who forbids thy use, [praise: 
 Conceals not from us, naming thee the tree 
 Of knowledge, knowledge both of good and evil: 
 Forbids us then to taste; but his forbidding 
 Commends thee more, while it infers the good 
 By thee communicated, and our want: 
 For good unknown sure is not had, or, had 
 And yet unknown, is as not had at all. 
 In plain then, what forbids he but to know, 
 Forbids us good, forbids us to be wise? 
 Such prohibitions bind not. But if death 
 Bind us with after-bands, what profits then 
 Our inward freedom ] In the day we eat 
 Of this fair fruit, our doom is, we shall die ! 
 
272 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 How dies the serpent 1 ? he hath eaten and lives, 
 
 And knows, and speaks, and reasons, and discerns. 
 
 Irrational till then. For us alone 
 
 Was death invented? or to us denied 
 
 This intellectual food, for beasts reserved? 
 
 For beasts it seems: yet that one beast which first 
 
 Hath tasted, envies not, but brings with joy 
 
 The good befallen him, author unsuspect, 
 
 Friendly to man, far from deceit or guile. 
 
 What fear I then? rather, what now to fear, 
 
 Under this ignorance of good or evil, 
 
 Of God or death, of law or penalty? 
 
 Here grows the cure of all, this fruit divine, 
 
 Fair to the eye, inviting to the taste, 
 
 Of virtue to make wise: what hinders then 
 
 To reach, and feed at once both body and mind?" 
 
 So saying, her rash hand, in evil hour, 
 Forth reaching to the fruit, she pluck'd, she eat: 
 Earth felt the wound; and Nature from her seat, 
 Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe 
 That all was lost. Back to the thicket slunk 
 The guilty serpent, and well might; for Eve. 
 Intent now wholly on her taste, nought else 
 Regarded; such delight till then, as seem'd, 
 In fruit she never tasted, whether true 
 Or fancied so, through expectation high 
 Of knowledge: nor was Godhead from her thought. 
 Greedily she ingorged without restraint, 
 And knew not eating death. Satiate at length, 
 And heighten' d as with wine, jocund and boon, 
 Thus to herself she pleasingly began: 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 273 
 
 " sovereign, virtuous, precious of all trees 
 In Paradise ! of operation blest 
 To sapience, hitherto obscured, infamed, 
 And thy fair fruit let hang, as to no end 
 Created; but henceforth my early care, 
 Not without song, each morning, and due praise, 
 Shall tend thee, and the fertile burden ease 
 Of thy full branches, offer'd free to all; 
 Till, dieted by thee, I grow mature 
 In knowledge as the gods, who all things know; 
 Though others envy what they cannot give: 
 For had the gift been theirs, it had not here 
 Thus grown. Experience, next, to thee I owe, 
 Best guide; not following thee, I had remain'd 
 In ignorance; thou open's t wisdom's way, 
 And givest access, though secret she retire. 
 And I perhaps am secret: heaven is high, 
 High, and remote, to see from thence distinct 
 Each thing on earth; and other care perhaps 
 May have diverted from continual watch 
 Our great Forbidder, safe with all his spies 
 About him. But to Adam in what sort 
 Shall I appear] shall I to him make known 
 As yet my change, and give him to partake 
 All happiness with me? or rather not, 
 But keep the odds of knowledge in my power, 
 Without co-partner? so to add what wants 
 In female sex, the more to draw his love, 
 And render me more equal; and perhaps, 
 A thing not undesirable, sometime 
 Superior; for, inferior, who is free? 
 
274 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 This may be well: but what if God have seen, 
 And death ensue? then I shall be no more, 
 And Adam, wedded to another Eve, 
 Shall live with her enjoying; I extinct: 
 A death to think. Confirmed then, I resolve, 
 Adam shall share with me in bliss or woe; 
 So dear I love him, that with him all deaths 
 I could endure, without him life no life." 
 
 So saying, from the tree her steps she turn'd, 
 But first low reverence done, as to the power 
 That dwelt within, whose presence had infused 
 Into the plant sciential sap, derived 
 From nectar, drink of gods. Adam the while 
 Waiting desirous her return, had wove 
 Of choicest flowers a garland, to adorn 
 Her tresses, and her rural labours crown; 
 As reapers oft are wont their harvest- queen. 
 Great joy he promised to his thoughts, and new 
 Solace in her return, so long delayed: 
 Yet oft his heart, divine of something ill, 
 Misgave him; he the faltering measure felt; 
 And forth to meet her went, the way she took 
 That morn, when first they parted: by the tree 
 Of knowledge he must pass; there he her met, 
 Scarce from the tree returning; in her hand 
 A bough of fairest fruit, that downy smiled, 
 New gather d, and ambrosial smell diffused. 
 To him she hasted; in her face excuse 
 Came prologue, and apology too prompt; 
 Which, with bland words at will, she thus address'd : 
 
 " Hast thou not wonder'd, Adam, at my stay? 
 
PARADISE LOST. 275 
 
 Thee I have naiss'd, and thought it long, deprived 
 Thy presence; agony of love till now 
 Not felt, nor shall be twice; for never more 
 Mean I to try, what rash untried I sought, 
 The pain of absence from thy sight. But strange 
 Hath been the cause, and wonderful to hear: 
 This tree is not, as we are told, a tree 
 Of danger, tasted, nor to evil unknown 
 Opening the way; but of divine effect, 
 To open eyes, and make them gods who taste; 
 And hath been tasted such: the serpent, wise, 
 Or not restrained as we, or not obeying, 
 Hath eaten of the fruit; and is become 
 Not dead as we are threaten* d, but thenceforth 
 Endued with human voice, and human sense, 
 Reasoning to admiration; and with me 
 Persuasively hath so prevailed, that I 
 Have also tasted, and have also found 
 The effects to correspond; opener mine eyes, 
 | Dim erst, dilated spirits, ampler heart, 
 And growing up to godhead; which for thee 
 Chiefly I sought, without thee, can despise. 
 For bliss, as thou hast part, to me is bliss; 
 Tedious, unshared with thee, and odious soon. 
 Thou therefore also taste, that equal lot 
 May join us, equal joy, as equal love; 
 Lest, thou not tasting, different degree 
 Disjoin us, and I then, too late, renounce 
 Deity for thee, when fate will not permit." 
 
 Thus Eve with countenance blithe, her story 
 But in her cheek distemper flushing glow'd. [told; 
 
276 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 On the other side, Adam, soon as he heard 
 The fatal trespass done by Eve, amazed, 
 Astonied stood and blank, while horror chill 
 Ran through his veins, and all his joints relax'd; 
 From his slack hand the garland, wreath'd for Eve, 
 Down dropt, and all the faded roses shed: 
 Speechless he stood, and pale, till thus at length, 
 First to himself, he inward silence broke: 
 
 " fairest of creation ! last and best 
 Of all God's works ! creature in whom excell'd 
 Whatever can to sight or thought be form'd, 
 Holy, divine, good, amiable, or sweet ! 
 How art thou lost, how on a sudden lost, 
 Defaced, deflowered, and now to death devote ! 
 Rather, how hast thou yielded to transgress 
 The strict forbiddance, how to violate 
 The sacred fruit forbidden? some cursed fraud 
 Of enemy hath beguiled thee, yet unknown, 
 And me with thee hath ruin'd; for with thee 
 Certain my resolution is to die: 
 How can I live without thee, how forego 
 Thy sweet converse and love, so dearly join'd, 
 To live again in these wild woods forlorn 
 Should God create another Eve, and I 
 Another rib afford, yet loss of thee 
 Would never from my heart: no, no, I feel 
 The link of nature draw me: flesh of flesh, 
 Bone of my bone thou art, and from thy state 
 Mine never shall be parted, bliss or woe." 
 
 So having said, as one from sad dismay 
 He-comforted, and after thoughts disturb' d 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 277 
 
 Submitting to what seem'd remediless, 
 
 Thus in calm mood his words to Eve he turn'd: 
 
 " Bold deed thou hast presumed, ad venturous Eve, 
 And peril great provoked, who thus hast dared, 
 Had it been only coveting to eye 
 That sacred fruit, sacred to abstinence, 
 Much more to taste it under ban to touch. 
 But past, who can recall, or done undo; 
 Not God omnipotent, nor Fate; yet so 
 Perhaps thou shalt not die; perhaps the fact 
 Is not so heinous now; foretasted fruit, 
 Profaned first by the serpent, by him first 
 Made common and unhallow'd, ere our taste: 
 Nor yet on him found deadly; he yet lives, 
 Lives, as thou said'st, and gains to live as man, 
 Higher degree of life, inducement strong 
 To us, as likely tasting to attain 
 Proportional ascent; which cannot be 
 But to be gods, or angels, demi-gods. 
 Nor can I think that God, Creator wise, 
 Though threatening, will in earnest so destroy 
 Us his prime creatures, dignified so high, 
 Set over all his works; which in our fall, 
 For us created, needs with us must fail, 
 Dependant made; so God shall uncreate, 
 Be frustrate, do, undo, and labour lose; 
 Not well conceived of God, who, though his power 
 Creation could repeat, yet would be loth 
 Us to abolish, lest the adversary 
 Triumph, and say, l Fickle their state whom God 
 Most favours; who can please him long] Me first 
 
278 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 He ruin'd; now mankind; whom will he next 1 ?' 
 Matter of scorn, not to be given the foe. 
 However, I with thee have fix'd my lot, 
 Certain to undergo like doom; if death 
 Consort with thee, death is to me as life; 
 So forcible within my heart I feel 
 The bond of nature draw me to my own, 
 My own in thee, for what thou art is mine: 
 Our state cannot be sever'd; we are one, 
 One flesh; to lose thee were to lose myself." 
 
 So Adam, and thus Eve to him replied: 
 " glorious trial of exceeding love, 
 Illustrious evidence, example high ! 
 Engaging me to emulate; but, short 
 Of thy perfection, how shall I attain, 
 Adam 1 ? from whose dear side I boast me sprung, 
 And gladly of our union hear thee speak, 
 One heart, one soul in both; whereof good proof 
 This day affords, declaring thee resolved, 
 Rather than death, or aught than death more 
 Shall separate us, link'd in love so dear, [dread, 
 To undergo with me, one guilt, one crime, 
 If any be, of tasting this fair fruit; 
 Whose virtue (for of good still good proceeds, 
 Direct or by occasion,) hath presented 
 This happy trial of thy love, which else 
 So eminently never had been known. 
 Were it I thought death menac'd would ensue 
 This my attempt, I would sustain alone 
 The worst, and not persuade thee; rather die 
 Deserted, than oblige thee with a fact 
 
PARADISE LOST. 279 
 
 Pernicious to thy peace: chiefly, assured 
 Remarkably so late of thy so true, 
 So faithful, love unequall'd: but I feel 
 Far otherwise the event; not death, but life 
 Augmented, open'd eyes, new hopes, new joys, 
 Taste so divine, that what of sweet before 
 Hath touch'd my sense, flat seems to this, and 
 On my experience, Adam, freely taste, [harsh. 
 And fear of death deliver to the winds." 
 
 So saying, she embraced him, and for joy 
 Tenderly wept; much won that he his love 
 Had so ennobled, as of choice to incur 
 Divine displeasure for her sake, or death. 
 In recompense, (for such compliance bad 
 Such recompense best merits,) from the bougb 
 She gave him of that fair enticing fruit 
 With liberal hand: he scrupled not to eat, 
 Against his better knowledge; not deceived, 
 But fondly overcome with female charm. 
 Earth trembled from her entrails, as again 
 In pangs, and Nature gave a second groan; 
 Sky lour'd, and muttering thunder, some sad drops 
 Wept at completing of the mortal sin 
 Original; while Adam took no thought, 
 Eating his fill; nor Eve to iterate 
 Her former trespass fear'd, the more to soothe 
 Him with her lov'd society; that now, 
 As with new wine intoxicated both, 
 They swim in mirth, and fancy that they feel 
 Divinity within them, breeding wings 
 Wherewith to scorn the earth: but that false fruit 
 
280 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Far other operation first display 'd, 
 Carnal desire inflaming: he on Eve 
 Began to cast lascivious eyes; she him 
 As wantonly repaid; in lust they burn: 
 Till Adam thus 'gan Eve to dalliance move: 
 
 " Eve, now I see thou art exact of taste, 
 And elegant, of sapience no small part; 
 Since to each meaning savour we apply, 
 And palate call judicious: I the praise 
 Yield thee, so well this day thou hast purvey'd. 
 Much pleasure we have lost, while we abstain'd 
 From this delightful fruit, nor known till now 
 True relish, tasting; if such pleasure be 
 In things to us forbidden, it might be wish'd, 
 For this one tree had been forbidden ten. 
 But come, so well refresh'd, now let us play, 
 As meet is, after such delicious fare; 
 For never did thy beauty, since the day 
 I saw thee first and wedded thee, adorn'd 
 With all perfections, so inflame my sense 
 With ardour to enjoy thee, fairer now 
 Than ever, bounty of this virtuous tree!" 
 
 So said he, and forbore not glance or toy 
 Of amorous intent, well understood 
 Of Eve, whose eye darted contagious fire. 
 Her hand he seized; and to a shady bank, 
 Thick over-head with verdant roof embower'd. 
 He led her, nothing loath; flowers were the couch, 
 Pansies, and violets, and asphodel, 
 And hyacinth; earth's freshest, softest lap. 
 Their they their fill of love and love's disport 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 281 
 
 Took largely, of their mutual guilt the seal, 
 
 The solace of their sin; till dewy sleep 
 
 Oppress'd them, wearied with their amorous play. 
 
 Soon as the force of that fallacious fruit, 
 That with exhilarating vapour bland 
 About their spirits had play'd, and inmost powers 
 Made err, was now exhaled; and grosser sleep, 
 Bred of unkindly fumes, with conscious dreams 
 Encumber'd, now had left them; up they rose 
 As from unrest, and, each the other viewing, 
 Soon found their eyes how open'd, and their minds 
 How darken'd; innocence, that as a veil 
 Had shadow'd them from knowing ill, was gone: 
 Just confidence, and native righteousness, 
 And honour, from about them, naked left 
 To guilty shame: he covered, but his robe 
 Uncover'd more. So rose the Danite strong, 
 Herculean Samson, from the harlot-lap 
 Of Philistean Delilah, and waked 
 Shorn of his strength; they destitute and bare 
 Of all their virtue: silent, and in face 
 Confounded, long they sat, as stricken mute; 
 Till Adam, though not less than Eve abash'd, 
 At length gave utterance to these words constrained: 
 
 " Eve, in evil hour thou did'st give ear 
 To that false worm, of whomsoever taught 
 To counterfeit man's voice; true in our fall, 
 False in our promised rising; since our eyes 
 Open'd we find indeed, and find we know 
 Both good and evil; good lost, and evil got; 
 Bad fruit of knowledge, if this be to know; 
 
282 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Which leaves us naked thus, of honour void, 
 Of innocence, of faith, of purity, 
 Our wonted ornaments now soiled and stained, 
 And in our faces evident the signs 
 Of foul concupiscence; whence evil store, 
 Even shame, the last of evils: of the first 
 Be sure then. How shall I behold the face 
 Henceforth, of God or angel, erst with joy 
 And rapture so oft beheld? those heavenly shapes 
 Will dazzle now this earthly, with their blaze 
 Insufferably bright. 0, might I here 
 In solitude live savage, in some glade 
 Obscured; where highest woods, impenetrable 
 To star or sun-light, spread their umbrage broad 
 And brown as evening ! Cover me, ye pines ! 
 Ye cedars, with innumerable boughs, 
 Hide me, where I may never see them more ! 
 But left us now, as in bad plight, devise 
 What best may for the present serve to hide 
 The parts of each from other, that seem most 
 To shame obnoxious, and unseemliest seen: 
 Some tree, whose broad smooth leaves, together 
 And girded on our loins, may cover round [sew'd 
 Those middle parts; that this new comer, Shame, 
 There sit not, and reproach us as unclean." 
 So counsell'd he, and both together went 
 Into the thickest wood; there soon they chose 
 The fig-tree, not that kind for fruit renown'd, 
 But such as at this day, to Indians known 
 In Malabar or Decan, spreads her arms, 
 Branching so broad and long, that in the ground 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 283 
 
 The bended twigs take root, and daughters grow 
 About the mother tree, a pillar'd shade 
 High over-arch'd, and echoing walks between; 
 There oft the Indian herdsman, shunning heat, 
 Shelters in cool, and tends his pasturing herds 
 At loop-holes cut through thickest shade: those 
 They gather'd, broad as Amazonian targe, [leaves 
 And, with what skill they had, together sew'd, 
 To gird their waist; vain covering, if to hide 
 Their guilt and dreaded shame! how unlike 
 To that first naked glory ! Such of late 
 Columbus found the American, so girt 
 With feather'd cincture; naked else, and wild, 
 Among the trees, on isles and woody shores. 
 Thus fenced, and, as they thought, their shame in 
 Cover'd, but not at rest or ease of mind, [part 
 They sat them down to weep; nor only tears 
 Rain'd at their eyes, but high winds worse within 
 Began to rise; high passions, anger, hate, 
 Mistrust, suspicion, discord; and shook sore 
 Their inward state of mind, calm region once, 
 And full of peace, now toss'd and turbulent: 
 For understanding ruled not, and the will 
 Heard not her lore; both in subjection now 
 To sensual appetite, who from beneath, 
 Usurping over sovereign reason, claimed 
 Superior sway; from thus distemper'd breast, 
 Adam, estranged in look and alter'd style, 
 Speech intermitted thus to Eve renew'd: [stay VI 
 " Would thou hadst hearken'd to my words, and 
 With me, as I besought thee, when that strange 
 
284 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Desire of wandering, this unhappy morn, 
 
 I know not whence possess'd thee; we had then 
 
 Remained still happy: not, as now, despoil'd 
 
 Of all our good; sham'd, naked, miserable! 
 
 Let none henceforth seek needless cause to approve 
 
 The faith they owe; when earnestly they seek 
 
 Such proof, conclude they then begin to fail." [Eve: 
 
 To whom, soon moved with touch of blame, thus 
 " What words have passed thy lips, Adam, severe? 
 Imputest thou that to my default, or will 
 Of wandering, as thou call'st it, which who knows 
 But might as ill have happen'd, thou being by, 
 Or to thyself perhaps 1 Hadst thou been there, 
 Or here the attempt, thou couldst not have dis- 
 Fraud in the serpent, speaking as he spake; [cern'd 
 No ground of enmity between us known, 
 Why should he mean me ill, or seek to harm. 
 Was I to have never parted from thy side? 
 As good have grown there still a lifeless rib. 
 Being as I am, why didst not thou, the head, 
 Command me absolutely not to go, 
 Going into such danger, as thou saidst? 
 Too facile then, thou didst not much gainsay, 
 Nay, didst permit, approve, and fair dismiss. 
 Hadst thou been firm and fix'd in thy dissent, 
 Neither had I transgress'd, nor thou with me." 
 
 To whom, then first incensed, Adam replied: 
 " Is this the love, is this the recompense 
 Of mine to thee, ungrateful Eve? express'd 
 Immutable, when thou wert lost, not I; 
 Who might have lived, and joyed immortal bliss, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 285 
 
 Yet willingly chose rather death with thee? 
 
 And am T now upbraided as the cause 
 
 Of thy transgressing? not enough severe, 
 
 It seerns, in thy restraint: what could I more? 
 
 I warn'd thee, I admonish'd thee, foretold 
 
 The danger and the lurking enemy 
 
 That lay in wait: beyond this had been force; 
 
 And force upon free-will hath here no place. 
 
 But confidence then bore thee on; secure 
 
 Either to meet no danger, or to find 
 
 Matter of glorious trial: and perhaps 
 
 I also err'd, in over-much admiring 
 
 What seem'd in thee so perfect, that I thought 
 
 No evil durst attempt thee; but I rue 
 
 That error now, which is become my crime, 
 
 And thou the accuser. Thus it shall befall 
 
 Him who, to worth in woman overtrusting, 
 
 Lets her will rule: restraint she will not brook; 
 
 And, left to herself, if evil thence ensue, 
 
 She first his weak indulgence will accuse." 
 
 Thus they in mutual accusation spent 
 The fruitless hours, but neither self-condemning; 
 And of their vain contest appear'd no end. 
 
 END OF BOOK IX. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 BOOK X. 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Man's transgression, known; the guardian angels forsake 
 Paradise, and return up to heaven to approve their vigi- 
 lance, and are approved; God declaring that the entrance 
 of Satan could not be by them prevented. If e sends his Son 
 to judge the transgressors; who descends and gives sentence 
 accordingly; then in pity clothes them both, and re-ascends. 
 Sin and Death, sitting till then at the gates of hell, by won- 
 drous sympathy, feeling the success of Satan in this new 
 world, and the sin by man there committed, resolve to sit no 
 longer confined in hell, but to follow Satan their sire up to 
 the place of man: to make the way easier from hell to this 
 world to and fro, they pave a broad highway or bridge over 
 Chaos, according to the track that Satan had made; then, 
 preparing for earth, they meet him, proud of his success, re- 
 turning to hell; their mutual gratulation. Satan arrives 
 at Pandemonium; in full assembly relates with boasting his 
 success against man; instead of applause is entertained with 
 a general hiss by all his audience, transformed with himself 
 also suddenly into serpents, according to his doom given in 
 Paradise; then, deluded with a shoiv of the forbidden tree 
 springing up before them, they, greedily reaching to take of 
 the fruit, chew dust and bitter ashes. The proceedings oj 
 Sin and Death; God foretells the final victory of his Son 
 over them, and the renewing of all things; but for the pre- 
 sent commands his angels to make several alterations in the 
 heavens and elements. Adam, more and more perceiving 
 his fallen condition, heavily bewails, rejects the condolement 
 of Eve; she persists, and at length appeases: then, to evade 
 the curse likely to fall on their offspring, proposes to Adam 
 violent ways^ which he approves not; but, conceiving better 
 hope, puts her in mind of the late promise made them, that 
 her seed should be revenged on the serpent; and exhorts her 
 with him to seek peace of the offended Deity by repentance 
 and supplication. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 BOOK X. 
 
 MEANWHILE the heinous and despiteful act 
 Of Satan done in Paradise, and how 
 He in the serpent had perverted Eve, 
 Her husband she, to taste the fatal fruit, 
 Was known in heaven; for what can 'scape the eye 
 Of God all-seeing, or deceive his heart 
 Omniscient? who, in all things wise and just, 
 Hindered not Satan to attempt the mind 
 Of man, with strength entire, and free-will arm'd, 
 Complete, to have discover'd and repulsed 
 Whatever wiles of foe or seeming friend. [ber'd, 
 For still they knew, and ought to have still remem- 
 The high injunction not to taste that fruit, 
 Whoever tempted; which they not obeying, 
 Incurr'd (what could they less?) the penalty; 
 And, manifold in sin, deserved to fall. 
 Up into heaven from Paradise in haste 
 The angelic guards ascended, mute and sad 
 For man; for of his state by this they knew, 
 Much wond'ring how the subtle fiend had stolen 
 
 Entrance unseen. Soon as the unwelcome news 
 
 T 
 
290 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 From earth arrived at heaven-gate, displeased 
 All were who heard; dim sadness did not spare 
 That time celestial visages, yet, mix'd 
 With pity, violated not their bliss. 
 About the new-arriv'd, in multitudes, 
 The ethereal people ran, to hear and know 
 How all befell: they towards the throne supreme, 
 Accountable, made haste to make appear, 
 With righteous plea, their utmost vigilance, 
 And easily approved; when the Most High 
 Eternal Father, from his secret cloud 
 Amidst, in thunder utter'd thus his voice: 
 
 " Assembled Angels, and ye Powers return'd 
 From unsuccessful charge, be not dismay'd, 
 Nor troubled at these tidings from the earth, 
 Which your sincerest care could not prevent; 
 Foretold so lately what would come to pass, 
 When first the tempter cross'd the gulf from hell. 
 I told ye then he should prevail, and speed 
 On his bad errand; Man should be seduced, 
 And flattered out of all, believing lies 
 Against his Maker; no decree of mine 
 Concurring to necessitate his fall, 
 Or touch with lightest moment of impulse, 
 His free-will, to her own inclining left 
 In even scale. But fallen he is; and now 
 What rests, but that the mortal sentence pass 
 On his transgression, death denounced that day? 
 Which he presumes already vain and void, 
 Because not yet inflicted, as he fear'd, 
 By some immediate stroke; but soon shall find 
 
PARADISE LOST. 291 
 
 Forbearance no acquittance, ere day end. 
 
 Justice shall not return as bounty scorn'd. 
 
 But whom send I to judge them? whom but thee, 
 
 Vicegerent Son? to thee I have transferr'd 
 
 All judgment, whether in heaven, or earth, or hell. 
 
 Easy it may be seen that I intend 
 
 Mercy colleague with justice, sending thee, 
 
 Man's Friend, his Mediator, his design'd 
 
 Both Ransom and Redeemer voluntary, 
 
 And destined Man himself to judge man fallen." 
 
 So spake the Father; and, unfolding bright 
 Toward the right hand of his glory, on the Son 
 Blazed forth unclouded Deity; he full 
 Resplendent all his Father manifest 
 Express'd, and thus divinely answer'd mild: 
 
 " Father Eternal, thine is to decree; 
 Mine, both in heaven and earth, to do thy will 
 Supreme; that thou in me, thy Son beloved, 
 May'st ever rest well pleased. I go to judge 
 On earth these thy transgressors; but thou know'st, 
 Whoever judged, the worst on me must light, 
 When time shall be; for so I undertook 
 Before thee; and, not repenting, this obtain 
 Of right, that I may mitigate their doom 
 On me derived: yet I shall temper so 
 Justice with mercy, as may illustrate most 
 Them fully satisfied, and thee appease. 
 Attendance none shall need, nor train, where none 
 Are to behold the judgment but the judg'd, 
 Those two; the third, best absent, is condemn'd, 
 Convict by flight, and rebel to all law; 
 
292 PAEADISE LOST. 
 
 Conviction to the serpent none belongs." 
 
 Thus saying, from his radiant seat he rose 
 Of high collateral glory: him thrones, and powers, 
 Princedoms, and dominations ministrant, 
 Accompanied to heaven-gate; from whence 
 Eden and all the coast in prospect lay. 
 Down he descended straight; the speed of gods 
 Time counts not, tho' with swiftest minutes wing'd. 
 Now was the sun in western cadence low 
 From noon; and gentle airs, due at their hour, 
 To fan the earth now waked, and usher in 
 The evening cool; when he, from wrath more cool, 
 Came the mild Judge and Intercessor both, 
 To sentence man. The voice of God they heard, 
 Now walking in the garden, by soft winds [heard, 
 Brought to their ears while day declined; they 
 And from his presence hid themselves among 
 The thickest trees, both man and wife, till God, 
 Approaching thus to Adam call'd aloud: 
 
 " Where art thou, Adam, wont with joy to meet 
 My coming seen far off? I miss thee here; 
 Not pleased, thus entertained with solitude, 
 Where obvious duty erewhile appear'd unsought: 
 Or come I less conspicuous, or what change 
 Absents thee, or what chance detains? Come forth." 
 He came, and with him Eve, more loath, though 
 
 first 
 
 To offend; discountenanced both, and discomposed; 
 Love was not in their looks, either to God 
 Or to each other; but apparent guilt, 
 And shame, and perturbation, and despair, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 293 
 
 Anger, and obstinacy, and hate, and guile. 
 Whence Adam, faltering long, thus answer'd brief: 
 
 " I heard thee in the garden, and of thy face 
 Afraid, being naked, hid myself." To whom 
 The gracious Judge without revile replied: 
 " My voice thou oft hast heard, and hast not fear'd, 
 But still rejoiced: how is it now become 
 So dreadful to thee? That thou art naked, who 
 Hath told thee? Hast thou eaten of the tree, 
 Whereof I gave thee charge thou shouldst not eat ?" 
 
 To whom thus Adam, sore beset, replied: 
 " Heaven ! in evil strait this day I stand 
 Before my Judge; either to undergo 
 Myself the total crime, or to accuse 
 My other self, the partner of my life; 
 Whose failing, while her faith to me remains, 
 I should conceal, and not expose to blame 
 By my complaint: but strict necessity 
 Subdues me, and calamitous constraint, 
 Lest on my head both sin and punishment, 
 However insupportable, be all 
 Devolved : though, should I hold my peace, yet thou 
 Wouldst easily detect what I conceal. 
 This woman, whom thou mad'st to be my help, 
 And gav'st me as thy perfect gift, so good, 
 So fit, so acceptable, so divine, 
 That from her hand I could suspect no ill; 
 And what she did, whatever in itself, 
 Her doing seem'd to justify the deed; 
 She gave me of the tree, and I did eat." 
 
 To whom the Sovereign Presence thus replied: 
 
294: PARADISE LOST. 
 
 " Was she thy God, that her thou didst obey 
 Before his voice 1 or was she made thy guide, 
 Superior, or but equal, that to her 
 Thou didst resign thy manhood, and the place 
 Wherein God set thee above her made of thee, 
 And for thee, whose perfection far excell'd 
 Her's, in all real dignity? Adorn'd 
 She was indeed, and lovely, to attract 
 Thy love, not thy subjection; and her gifts 
 Were such, as under government, well seem'd 
 Unseemly to bear rule; which was thy part 
 And person, hadst thou known thyself aright." 
 
 So having said, he thus to Eve in few: 
 " Say, woman, what is this which thou hast done?" 
 
 To whom sad Eve, with shame nigh overwhelm'd, 
 Confessing soon, yet not before her Judge 
 Bold or loquacious, thus abash'd replied: 
 " The serpent me beguiled, and I did eat." 
 
 Which, when the Lord God heard, without delay 
 To judgment he proceeded on the accused 
 Serpent, though brute; unable to transfer 
 The guilt on him, who made him instrument 
 Of mischief, and polluted from the end 
 Of his creation: justly then accursed, 
 As vitiated in nature: more to know 
 Concern'd not man, (since he no further knew,) 
 Nor alter'd his offence; yet God at last 
 To Satan, first in sin, his doom applied, 
 Though in mysterious terms, judged as then best; 
 And on the Serpent thus his curse let fall: 
 
 4 ' Because thou hast done this, thou art accursed 
 
PARADISE LOST. 295 
 
 Above all cattle, each beast of the field; 
 
 Upon thy belly grovelling thou shalt go, 
 
 And dust shalt eat all the days of thy life. 
 
 Between thee and the woman I will put 
 
 Enmity, and between thine and her seed; 
 
 Her seed shall bruise thy head, thou bruise his 
 
 So spake this Oracle, then verified [heel.' 
 
 When Jesus, son of Mary, second Eve, 
 Saw Satan fall, like lightning, down from heaven, 
 Prince of the air; then, rising from his grave, 
 Spoil'd principalities and powers, triumph'd 
 In open show; and, with ascension bright, 
 Captivity led captive through the air, 
 The realm itself of Satan, long usurp'd; 
 Whom he shall tread at last under our feet, 
 Even he, who now foretold his fatal bruise; 
 And to the woman thus his sentence turn'd: 
 
 " Thy sorrow I will greatly multiply, 
 By thy conception; children thou shalt bring 
 In sorrow forth; and to thy husband's will 
 Thine shall submit; he over thee shall rule." 
 
 On Adam last thus judgment he pronounced: 
 " Because thou hast hearken'd to the voice of thy 
 And eaten of the tree, concerning which [wife> 
 I charged thee, saying, 'Thou shalt not eat thereof.' 
 Cursed is the ground for thy sake: thou in sorrow 
 Shalt eat thereof all the days of thy life; 
 Thorns also and thistles it shall bring thee forth 
 Unbid; and thou shalt eat the herb of the field: 
 In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, 
 Till thou return unto the ground; for thou 
 
296 PAEADISE LOST. 
 
 Out of the ground wast taken; know thy birth; 
 For dust thou art, and shalt to dust return." 
 
 So judged he man, both Judge and Saviour sent; 
 And the instant stroke of death, denounc'd that 
 Remov'd far off: then, pitying how they stood [day, 
 Before him naked to the air, that now 
 Must suffer change, disdained not to begin 
 Thenceforth the form of servant to assume, 
 As when he wash'd his servants' feet; so now 
 As father of his family, he clad 
 Their nakedness with skins of beasts, or slain, 
 Or, as the snake, with youthful coat repaid; 
 And thought not much to clothe his enemies: 
 Nor he their outward only with the skins 
 Of beasts, but inward nakedness, much more 
 Opprobrious, with his robe of righteousness 
 Arraying, cover'd from his Father's sight. 
 To him with swift ascent he up return'd. 
 Into his blissful bosom re-assumed, 
 In glory, as of old; to him appeased, 
 All, though all-knowing, what had pass'd with 
 Recounted, mixing intercession sweet. [man 
 
 Meanwhile, ere thus was sinn'd and judged on 
 Within the gates of hell sat Sin and Death, [earth, 
 In counter-view within the gates, that now 
 Stood open wide, belching outrageous flame, 
 Far into chaos, since the fiend pass'd through, 
 Sin opening; who thus now to Death began: 
 
 " son, why sit we here, each other viewing 
 Idly, while Satan, our great author, thrives 
 In other worlds, and happier seat provides 
 
PARADISE LOST. 297 
 
 For us, his offspring dear? It cannot be 
 But that success attends him; if mishap, 
 Ere this he had return'd, with fury driven 
 By his avengers; since no place like this 
 Can fit his punishment, or their revenge. 
 Methinks I feel new strength within me rise, 
 Wings growing, and dominion given me large 
 Beyond this deep; whatever draws me on. 
 Or sympathy, or some connatural force, 
 Powerful at greatest distance to unite 
 With secret amity things of like kind, 
 By secretest conveyance. Thou, my shade 
 Inseparable, must with me along; 
 For Death from Sin no power can separate. 
 But, lest the difficulty of passing back 
 Stay his return perhaps over this gulf 
 Impassable, impervious, let us try 
 Adventurous work, yet to thy power and mine 
 Not disagreeable, to found a path 
 Over this main from hell to that new world 
 Where Satan now prevails; a monument 
 Of merit high to all the infernal host, 
 Easing their passage hence, for intercourse, 
 Or transmigration, as their lot shall lead. 
 Nor can I miss the way, so strongly drawn, 
 By this new-felt attraction and instinct." 
 
 Whom thus the meagre shadow answered soon : 
 " Go whither fate and inclination strong 
 Leads thee; I shall not lag behind, nor err 
 The way, thou leading; such a scent I draw 
 Of carnage, prey innumerable, and taste 
 
298 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 The savour of death, from all things there that 
 Nor shall I to the work thou enterprisest [live; 
 Be wanting, but afford thee equal aid." 
 
 So saying, with delight he snuff 'd the smell 
 Of mortal change on earth. As when a flock 
 Of ravenous fowl, though many a league remote, 
 Against the day of battle, to a field, 
 Where armies lie encamp'd, come flying, lured 
 With scent of living carcases design'd 
 For death, the following day, in bloody fight: 
 So scented the grim Feature, and upturn'd 
 His nostril wide into the murky air, 
 Sagacious of his quarry from so far. 
 Then both from out hell-gates into the waste 
 Wide anarchy of Chaos, damp and dark, [great,) 
 Flew diverse; and with power (their power was 
 Hovering upon the waters, what they met, 
 Solid or slimy, as in raging sea 
 Toss'd up and down, together crowded drove, 
 From each side shoaling towards the mouth of hell: 
 As when two polar winds, blowing adverse, 
 Upon the Cronian sea, together drive 
 Mountains of ice, that stop the imagin'd way, 
 Beyond Petsora eastward, to the rich 
 Cathaian coast. The aggregated soil 
 Death, with his mace petrific, cold and dry, 
 As with a trident, smote, and fix'd as firm 
 As Delos, floating once; the rest his look 
 Bound with Gorgonian rigour not to move; 
 And with asphaltic slime, broad as the gate, 
 Deep to the roots of hell the gather'd beach 
 
PARADISE LOST. 299 
 
 They fastened, and the mole immense wrought on, 
 
 Over the foaming deep high-arch 'd, a bridge 
 
 Of length prodigious, joining to the wall 
 
 Immoveable of this now fenceless world, 
 
 Forfeit to Death; from hence, a passage broad, 
 
 Smooth, easy, inoffensive, down to hell. 
 
 So, if great things to small may be compared, 
 
 Xerxes, the liberty of Greece to yoke, 
 
 From Susa, his Memnonian palace high, 
 
 Came to the sea; and, over Hellespont 
 
 Bridging his way, Europe with Asia join'd, [waves. 
 
 And scourged with many a stroke the indignant 
 
 Now had they brought the work, by wondrous art 
 
 Pontifical, a ridge of pendent rock, 
 
 Over the vex'd abyss, following the track 
 
 Of Satan to the self-same place where he 
 
 First lighted from his wing, and landed safe 
 
 From out of Chaos, to the outside bare 
 
 Of this round world: with pins of adamant, 
 
 And chains they made all fast; too fast they made 
 
 And durable ! And now in little space 
 
 The confines met of empyrean heaven, 
 
 And of this world; and, on the left hand, hell 
 
 With long reach interposed; three several ways 
 
 In sight, to each of these three places led. 
 
 And now their way to earth they had descried, 
 
 To Paradise first tending; when, behold! 
 
 Satan in likeness of an angel bright, 
 
 Betwixt the Centaur and the Scorpion steering 
 
 His zenith, while the sun in Aries rose: 
 
 Disguis'd he came; but those his children dear 
 
300 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Their parent soon discern'd, though in disguise. 
 He, after Eve seduced, unminded slunk 
 Into the wood fast by; and, changing shape 
 To observe the sequel, saw his guileful act 
 By Eve, though all unweeting, seconded 
 Upon her husband; saw their shame that sought 
 Vain covertures; but when he saw descend 
 The Son of God to judge them, terrified 
 He fled, not hoping to escape, but shun 
 The present; fearing, guilty, what his wrath 
 Might suddenly inflict; that past, return'd 
 By night, and listening where the hapless pair 
 Sat in their sad discourse and various plaint, 
 Thence gather'd his own doom; which understood 
 Not instant, but of future time, with joy 
 And tidings fraught, to hell he now return'd, 
 And at the brink of Chaos, near the foot 
 Of this new wondrous pontifice, unhop'd, 
 Met, who to meet him came, his offspring dear. 
 Great joy was at their meeting, and at sight 
 Of that stupendous bridge his joy increased. 
 Long he admiring stood: till Sin, his fair 
 Enchanting daughter, thus the silence broke: 
 
 " parent ! these are thy magnific deeds, 
 Thy trophies, which thou view'st as not thine own: 
 Thou art their author and prime architect: 
 For I no sooner in my heart divined 
 (My heart, which by a secret harmony 
 Still moves with thine, join'd in connection sweet,) 
 That thou on earth hadst prosper'd, which thy 
 Now also evidence, but straight I felt, [looks 
 
PARADISE LOST. 301 
 
 Though distant from thee worlds between, yet felt 
 That I must after thee, with this thy son; 
 Such fatal consequence unites us three: 
 Hell could no longer hold us in her bounds, 
 Nor this unvoyageable gulf obscure 
 Detain from following thy illustrious track: 
 Thou hast achieved our liberty, confined 
 Within hell-gates till now; thou us empower'd 
 To fortify thus far, and overlay, 
 With this portentous bridge, the dark abyss. 
 Thine now is all this world; thy virtue hath won 
 What thy hands builded not; thy wisdom gain'd, 
 With odds, what war hath lost, and fully avenged 
 Our foil in heaven: here thou shalt monarch reign, 
 There didst not; there let him still victor sway, 
 As battle hath adjudged, from this new world 
 Retiring, by his own doom alienated; 
 And henceforth monarchy with thee divide 
 Of all things, parted by the empyreal bounds, 
 His quadrature, from thy orbicular world; 
 Or try thee now more dangerous to his throne." 
 Whom thus the Prince of Darkness answer'd, 
 
 glad: 
 
 " Fair daughter, and thou son and grandchild both, 
 High proof ye now have given to be the race 
 Of Satan (for I glory in the name, 
 Antagonist of heaven's Almighty King); 
 Amply have merited of me, of all 
 The infernal empire, that so near heaven's door 
 Triumphal with triumphal act have met, 
 Mine with this glorious work, and made one realm, 
 
302 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Hell and this world, one realm, one continent 
 Of easy thoroughfare. Therefore, while I 
 Descend through darkness on your road with ease, 
 To my associate powers, them to acquaint 
 With these successes, and with them rejoice, 
 You two this way, among these numerous orbs, 
 All yours, right down to Paradise descend; 
 There dwell, and reign in bliss; thence on the earth 
 Dominion exercise, and in the air, 
 Chiefly on man, sole lord of all declared: 
 Him first make sure your thrall, and lastly kill. 
 My substitutes I send ye, and create 
 Plenipotent on earth, of matchless might 
 Issuing from me; on your joint vigour now 
 My hold of this new kingdom all depends, 
 Through Sin to Death exposed by my exploit. 
 If your joint power prevail, the affairs of hell 
 No detriment need fear: go, and be strong!" 
 
 So saying, he dismiss'd them : they with speed 
 Their course through thickest constellations held, 
 Spreading their bane; the blasted stars looked wan ; 
 And planets, planet-struck, real eclipse 
 Then suffer'd. The other way Satan went down 
 The causeway to hell-gate: on either side 
 Disparted Chaos over-built exclaim'd, 
 And with rebounding surge the bars assaiFd, 
 That scorn'd his indignation: through the gate, 
 Wide open and unguarded, Satan pass'd, 
 And all about found desolate; for those 
 Appointed to sit there had left their charge, 
 Flown to the upper world; the rest were all 
 
PARADISE LOST. 303 
 
 Far to the inland retired, about the walls 
 
 Of Pandemonium, city and proud seat 
 
 Of Lucifer; so by allusion called, 
 
 Of that bright star to Satan paragon'd: 
 
 Their kept there watch the legions, while the grand 
 
 In council sat, solicitous what chance 
 
 Might intercept their emperor sent; so he 
 
 Departing gave command, and they observed. 
 
 As when the Tartar from his Russian foe, 
 
 By Astracan, over the snowy plains, 
 
 Retires; or Bactrian Sophi, from the horns 
 
 Of Turkish crescent, leaves all waste beyond 
 
 The realm of Aladule, in his retreat 
 
 To Taurus or Casbeen; so these, the late 
 
 Heaven-banish'd host, left desert utmost hell, 
 
 Many a dark league, reduced in careful watch 
 
 Round their metropolis; and now, expecting 
 
 Each hour their great adventurer, from the search 
 
 Of foreign worlds: he, through the midst, un- 
 
 In show plebeian angel militant [mark'd, 
 
 Of lowest order, pass'd; and from the door 
 
 Of that Plutonian hall, invisible, 
 
 Ascended his high throne, which, under state 
 
 Of richest texture spread, at the upper end 
 
 Was placed in regal lustre. Down a while 
 
 He sat, and round about him saw, unseen; 
 
 At last, as from a cloud, his fulgent head 
 
 And shape, star-bright, appear'd, or brighter; clad 
 
 With what permissive glory since his fall 
 
 Was left him, or false glitter: all amazed: 
 
 At that so sudden blaze, the Stygian throng 
 
304 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Bent their aspect, and whom they wish'd beheld, 
 Their mighty chief return'd: loud was the acclaim; 
 Forth rush'd in haste the great consulting peers; 
 Raised from their dark divan, and with like joy 
 Congratulant approach'd him; who with hand 
 Silence, and with these words attention, won: 
 
 " Thrones, dominations, princedoms, virtues, 
 For in possession such, not only of right, [powers; 
 I call ye, and declare ye now; return'd 
 Successful beyond hope, to lead ye forth 
 Triumphant out of this infernal pit 
 Abominable, accursed, the house of woe, 
 And dungeon of our tyrant: now possess, 
 As lords, a spacious world, to our native heaven 
 Little inferior, by my adventure hard 
 With peril great achieved. Long were to tell 
 What I have done, what suffer'd; with what pain 
 Voyag'd the unreal, vast, unbounded deep 
 Of horrible confusion; over which 
 By Sin and Death a broad way now is paved, 
 To expedite your glorious march; but I 
 Toil'd out my uncouth passage, forc'd to ride 
 The untractable abyss, plung'd in the womb 
 Of unoriginal Night and Chaos wild; 
 That, jealous of their secrets, fiercely oppos'd 
 My journey strange, with clamorous uproar, 
 Protesting fate supreme; thence how I found 
 The new-created world, which fame in heaven 
 Long had foretold, a fabric wonderful 
 Of absolute perfection! therein Man 
 Placed in a Paradise, by our exile 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 305 
 
 Made happy: him By fraud I have seduced 
 From his Creator; and, the more to increase 
 Your wonder, with an apple; he, thereat 
 Offended, (worth your laughter!) hath given up 
 Both his beloved man, and all his world, 
 To Sin and Death a prey; and so to us, 
 Without our hazard, labour, or alarm, 
 To range in, and to dwell, and over man 
 To rule, as over all he should have ruled. 
 True is, me also hath he judged, or rather 
 Me not, but the brute serpent, in whose shape 
 Man I deceived: that which to me belongs 
 Is enmity, which he will put between 
 Me and mankind; I am to bruise his heel: 
 His seed, when is not set, shall bruise my head. 
 A world, who would not purchase with a bruise, 
 Or much more grievous pain? Ye have the account 
 Of my performanee: what remains, ye gods, 
 But up, and enter now into full bliss 1 ?" 
 
 So having said, a while he stood, expecting 
 Their universal shout, and high applause, 
 To fill his ear; when, contrary, he hears 
 On all sides, from innumerable tongues, 
 A dismal universal hiss, the sound 
 Of public scorn; he wondered, but not long 
 Had leisure, wondering at himself now more: 
 His visage drawn he felt to sharp and spare; 
 His arms clung to his ribs; his legs entwining 
 Each other, till, supplanted, down he fell, 
 A monstrous serpent on his belly prone, 
 Beluccant, but in vain; a greater Power 
 
306 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Now ruled him, punish'd in the shape he sinri'd, 
 
 According to his doom. He would have spoke; 
 
 But hiss for hiss return'd with forked tongue 
 
 To forked tongue; for now were all transform'd 
 
 Alike, to serpents all, as accessories 
 
 To his bold riot: dreadful was the din 
 
 Of hissing through the hall, thick-swarming now 
 
 With complicated monsters head and tail, 
 
 Scorpion, and asp, and amphisbsena dire, 
 
 Cerastes horn'd, hydrus, and elops drear, 
 
 And dipsas, (not so thick swarm'd once the soil 
 
 Bedropt with blood of Gorgon, or the isle 
 
 Ophiusa): but still greatest he the midst, 
 
 Now dragon grown, larger than whom the sun 
 
 Engendered in the Pythian vale on slime, 
 
 Huge Python, and his power no less he seem'd 
 
 Above the rest still to retain. They all 
 
 Him followed, issuing forth to the open field, 
 
 Where all yet left of that revolted rout, 
 
 Heav'n-fallen, in station stood or just array, 
 
 Sublime with expectation when to see 
 
 In triumph issuing forth, their glorious chief. 
 
 They saw, but other sight instead! a crowd 
 
 Of ugly serpents; horror on them fell, 
 
 And horrid sympathy; for what they saw [arms, 
 
 They felt themselves, now changing; down their 
 
 Down fell both spear and shield; down they as fast; 
 
 And the dire hiss renew' d, and the dire form 
 
 Catch'd by contagion; like in punishment, [meant 
 
 As in their crime. Thus was th' applause they 
 
 Turn'd to exploding hiss, triumph to shame, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 307 
 
 Cast on themselves from their own mouths. There 
 
 stood 
 
 A grove hard by, sprung up with this their change, 
 His will who reigns above, to aggravate 
 Their penance, laden with fruit, like that 
 Which grew in Paradise, the bait of Eve 
 Used by the tempter: on that prospect strange 
 Their earnest eyes they fix'd, imagining 
 For one forbidden tree a multitude 
 Now risen, to work them farther woe or shame; 
 Yet, parch'd with scalding thirst and hunger fierce, 
 Though to delude them sent, could not abstain; 
 But on they roll'd in heaps, and, up the trees 
 Climbing, sat thicker than the snaky locks 
 That curl'd Megaera. Greedily they pluck'd 
 The fruitage fair to sight, like that which grew 
 Near that bituminous lake where Sodom flam'd; 
 This more delusive, not the touch, but taste 
 Deceived; they fondly thinking to allay 
 Their appetite with gust, instead of fruit 
 Chew'd bitter ashes, which the offended taste 
 With sputtering noise rejected: oft they assay 'd, 
 Hunger and thirst constraining; drugg'd as oft, 
 With hatefulest disrelish writhM their jaws, 
 With soot and cinders fill'd; so oft they fell 
 Into the same illusion, not as man [plagu'd, 
 
 Whom they triumph'd once laps'd. Thus were they 
 And worn with famine, long and ceaseless hiss, 
 Till their lost shape, permitted, they resumed; 
 Yearly enjoin'd, some say, to undergo 
 This annual humbling certain number'd days, 
 
 _____ i I 
 
308 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 To dash their pride and joy for man seduced. 
 However, some tradition they dispersed 
 Among the heathen of their purchase got; 
 And fabled how the serpent, whom they call'd 
 Ophion, with Eurynome, the wide- 
 Encroaching Eve perhaps, had first the rule 
 Of high Olympus; thence by Saturn driven 
 And Ops, ere yet Dictsean Jove was born. 
 
 Meanwhile in Paradise the hellish pair 
 Too soon arrived; Sin, there in power before, 
 Once actual, now in body, and to dwell 
 Habitual habitant; behind her Death, 
 Close following, pace for pace, not mounted yet 
 On his pale horse; to whom Sin thus began: 
 
 " Second of Satan sprung, all conquering Death! 
 What think'st thou of our empire now, though 
 With travail difficult; not better far [earn'd 
 
 Than still at hell's dark threshold to have sat watch, 
 Unnamed, undreaded, and thyself half starved?" 
 
 Whom thus the Sin-born monster answered soon: 
 " To me, who with eternal famine pine, 
 Alike is hell, or paradise, or heaven; 
 There best, where most with ravine I may meet; 
 Which here, though plenteous, all too little seems 
 To stuff this maw, this vast unhidebound corpse." 
 
 To whom the incestuous mother thus replied: 
 " Thou therefore on these herbs, and fruits, and 
 
 flowers, 
 
 Feed first; on each beast next, and fish, and fowl; 
 No homely morsels; and whatever thing 
 The scythe of Time mows down, devour unspared; 
 
PARADISE LOST. 309 
 
 Till I, in man residing, through the race, 
 
 His thoughts, his looks, words, actions, all infect; 
 
 And season him thy last and sweetest prey." 
 
 This said, they both betook them several ways, 
 Both to destroy, or unimmortal make 
 All kinds, and for destruction to mature, 
 Sooner or later; which the Almighty seeing, 
 From his transcendent seat the saints among, 
 To those bright orders utter' d thus his voice: 
 
 " See, with what heat these dogs of hell advance, 
 To waste and havoc yonder world, which I 
 So fair and good created; and had still 
 Kept in that state, had not the folly of man 
 Let in these wasteful furies, who impute 
 Folly to me; so doth the prince of hell 
 And his adherents, that with so much ease 
 I suffer them to enter and possess 
 A place so heavenly; and conniving seem, 
 To gratify my scornful enemies, 
 That laugh, as if transported with some fit 
 Of passion, I to them had quitted all, 
 At random yielded up to their misrule; 
 And know not that I call'd and drew them thither, 
 My hell-hounds, to lick up the draff and filth 
 Which man's polluting sin with taint hath shed 
 On what was pure; till, cramm'd and gorged, nigh 
 With suck'd and glutted offal, at one sling [burst, 
 Of thy victorious arm, well-pleasing Son, 
 Both Sin and Death, and yawning Grave, at last, 
 Through Chaos hurl'd, obstruct the mouth of hell 
 For ever, and seal up his ravenous jaws. 
 
310 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Then heaven and earth, renewed, shall be made 
 To sanctify, that shall receive no stain: [pure 
 Till then, the curse pronounced on both proceeds." 
 
 He ended; and the heavenly audience loud 
 Sung Hallelujah, as the sound of seas, 
 Through multitude that sung: " Just are thy ways, 
 Righteous are thy decrees on all thy works; 
 Who can extenuate theef ' Next to the Son, 
 " Destined Restorer of mankind, by whom 
 New heaven and earth shall to the ages rise, [song; 
 Or down from heaven descend." Such was their 
 While the Creator, calling forth by name 
 His mighty angels, gave them several charge, 
 As sorted best with present things. The sun 
 Had first his precept, so to move, so shine, 
 As might affect the earth with cold and heat, 
 Scarce tolerable, and from the north to call 
 Decrepit winter, from the south to bring 
 Solstitial summer's heat. To the blanc moon 
 Her office they prescribed; to the other five, 
 Their planetary motions, and aspects, 
 In sextile, square, and trine, and opposite, 
 Of noxious efficacy, and when to join 
 In synod unbenign; and taught the fix'd 
 Their influence malignant when to shower, 
 Which of them rising with the sun, or falling, 
 Should prove tempestuous: to the winds they sat 
 Their corners, when with bluster to confound 
 Sea, air, and shore; the thunder when to roll 
 With terror, through the dark aerial hall. 
 Some say, he bid his angels turn askance 
 
PARADISE LOST. 311 
 
 The poles of earth, twice ten degrees and more, 
 From the sun's axle; they with labour push'd 
 Oblique the centric globe. Some say, the sun 
 Was bid turn reins from the equinoctial road 
 Like-distant breadth to Taurus with the seven 
 Atlantic Sisters, and the Spartan Twins, 
 Up to the Tropic Crab: thence down amain 
 By Leo, and the Virgin, and the Scales, 
 As deep as Capricorn; to bring in change 
 Of seasons to each clime; else had the spring 
 Perpetual smiled on earth with verdant flowers, 
 Equal in days and nights, except to those 
 Beyond the polar circles; to them day 
 Had unbenighted shone; while the low sun, 
 To recompense his distance, in their sight 
 Had rounded still the horizon, and not known 
 Or east or west; which had forbid the snow 
 From cold Estotiland, and south as far 
 Beneath Magellan. At that tasted fruit, 
 The sun, as from Thyestian banquet, turn'd 
 His course intended; else, how had the world 
 Inhabited, though sinless, more than now 
 Avoided pinching cold and scorching heat? 
 These changes in the heavens, though slow, pro- 
 Like change on sea and land; sideral blast, [duced 
 Vapour, and mist, and exhalation hot, 
 Corrupt and pestilent. Now from the north 
 Of Norumbega, and the Samoed shore, 
 Bursting their brazen dungeon, arm'd with ice, 
 And snow, and hail, and stormy gust and flaw, 
 Boreas, and Csecias, and Argestes loud, 
 
312 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 And Thrascias, rend the woods, and seas upturn; 
 With adverse blast upturns them from the south 
 Notus, and Afer black with thunderous clouds 
 From Serraliona; thwart of these, as fierce, 
 Forth rush the Levant and the Ponent winds, 
 Eurus and Zephyr, with their lateral noise, 
 Sirocco and Libecchio. Thus began 
 Outrage from lifeless things; but Discord first, 
 Daughter of Sin, among the irrational 
 Death introduced, through fierce antipathy: 
 Beast now with beast 'gan war, and fowl with fowl, 
 And fish with fish; to graze the herb all leaving, 
 Devour'd each other; nor stood much in awe 
 Of man, but fled him, or, with countenance grirn, 
 Glared on him passing. These were from without 
 The growing miseries, which Adam saw 
 Already in part, though hid in gloomiest shade, 
 To sorrow abandon'd, but worse felt within; 
 And in a troubled sea of passion tossed, 
 Thus to disburden sought, with sad complaint: 
 
 " miserable of happy! is this the end 
 Of this new glorious world, and me, so late 
 The glory of that glory, who now become 
 Accursed of blessed 1 ? Hide me from the face 
 Of God, whom to behold was then my height 
 Of happiness ! Yet well, if here would end 
 The misery: I deserved it; and would bear 
 My own deservings; but this will not serve: 
 All that I eat, or drink, or shall beget, 
 Is propagated curse. voice once heard 
 Delightfully, ' Increase and multiply,' 
 
PARADISE LOST. 313 
 
 Now death to hear ! for what can I increase, 
 Or multiply, but curses on my head? 
 Who, of all ages to succeed, but feeling 
 The evil on him brought by me, will curse 
 My head? ' 111 fare our ancestor impure! 
 For this we may thank Adam!' but his thanks 
 Shall be the execration; so, besides 
 Mine own that bide upon me, all from me 
 Shall with a fierce reflux on me rebound; 
 On me, as on their natural centre, light 
 Heavy, though in their place. fleeting joys 
 Of Paradise, dear bought with lasting woes ! 
 Did I request thee, Maker, from my clay 
 To mould me man? did I solicit thee 
 From darkness to promote me, or here place, 
 In this delicious garden? As my will 
 Concurr'd not to my being, it were but right 
 And equal to reduce me to my dust, 
 Desirous to resign and render back 
 All I received; unable to perform 
 Thy terms, too hard, by which I was to hold 
 The good I sought not. To the loss of that, 
 Sufficient penalty, why hast thou added 
 The sense of endless woes? Inexplicable 
 Thy justice seems; yet, to say truth, too late 
 I thus contest; then should have been refused 
 Those terms whatever, when they were proposed. 
 Thou didst accept them; wilt thou enjoy the good 
 Then cavil the conditions? and, though God 
 Made thee without thy leave, what if thy son 
 Prove disobedient, and reproved, retort, 
 
314 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Wherefore didst thou beget me? I sought it riot: 
 
 Wouldst thou admit, for his contempt of thee, 
 
 That proud excuse? yet him, not thy election, 
 
 But natural necessity, begot. 
 
 God made thee of choice his own, and of his own 
 
 To serve him; thy reward was of his grace; 
 
 Thy punishment then justly is at his will. 
 
 Be it so, for I submit; his doom is fair, 
 
 That dust I am, and shall to dust return: 
 
 welcome hour whenever! why delays 
 
 His hand to execute what his decree 
 
 Fix'd on this day? why do I overlive? 
 
 Why am I mock'd with death, and lengthened out 
 
 To deathless pain? How gladly would I meet 
 
 Mortality, my sentence, and be earth 
 
 Insensible! how glad would lay me down, 
 
 As in my mother's lap! there I should rest 
 
 And sleep secure: his dreadful voice no more 
 
 Would thunder in my ears; no fear of worse 
 
 To me and to my offspring would torment me 
 
 With cruel expectation. Yet one doubt 
 
 Pursues me still, lest all I cannot die; 
 
 Lest that pure breath of life, the spirit of man, 
 
 Which God inspired, cannot together perish 
 
 With this corporeal clod: then in the grave, 
 
 Or in some other dismal place, who knows 
 
 But I shall die a living death? thought 
 
 Horrid, if true! Yet why? It was but breath 
 
 Of life that sinned; what dies, but what had life 
 
 And sin? the body properly hath neither. 
 
 All of me then shall die: let this appease 
 
PARADISE LOST. 315 
 
 The doubt, since human reach no farther knows: 
 
 For, though the Lord of all be infinite, 
 
 Is his wrath also? Be it; man is not so, 
 
 But mortal doom'd. How can he exercise 
 
 Wrath without end on man, whom death must endC< 
 
 Can he make deathless death? that were to make 
 
 Strange contradiction, which to God himself 
 
 Impossible is held; as argument 
 
 Of weakness, not of power. Will he draw out, 
 
 For anger's sake, finite to infinite, 
 
 In punish'd man, to satisfy his rigour, 
 
 Satisfied never? That were to extend 
 
 His sentence beyond dust, and nature's law 
 
 By which all causes else, according still 
 
 To the reception of their matter, act; 
 
 Not to the extent of their own sphere. But say 
 
 That death be not one stroke, as I supposed, 
 
 Bereaving sense, but endless misery 
 
 From this day onward; which I feel begun 
 
 Both in me, and without me; and so last 
 
 To perpetuity: ah me! that fear 
 
 Comes thundering back with dreadful revolution 
 
 On my defenceless head; both Death and I 
 
 Are found eternal, and incorporate both; 
 
 Nor I on my part single; in me all 
 
 Posterity stands cursed: fair patrimony 
 
 That I must leave ye, sons! were I able 
 
 To waste it all myself and leave ye none! 
 
 So disinherited, how would ye bless 
 
 Me, now your curse! Ah! why should all mankind, 
 
 For one man's fault, thus guiltless be condemn'd, 
 
316 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 If guiltless? But from me what can proceed, 
 
 But all corrupt; both mind and will deprav'd, 
 
 Not to do only, but to will the same 
 
 With me? How can they then acquitted stand 
 
 In sight of God? Him, after all disputes, 
 
 Forced, I absolve: all my evasions vain, 
 
 And reasonings, though through mazes, lead me 
 
 But to my own conviction: first and last [still 
 
 On me, me only, as the source and spring 
 
 Of all corruption, all the blame lights due; [support 
 
 So might the wrath! Fond wish! couldst thou 
 
 That burden, heavier than the earth to bear; 
 
 Than all the world much heavier, though divided 
 
 With that bad woman? Thus, what thou desir'st, 
 
 And what thou fear'st, alike destroys all hope 
 
 Of refuge, and concludes thee miserable 
 
 Beyond all past example and future: 
 
 To Satan only like both crime and doom. 
 
 conscience! into what abyss of fears 
 
 And horrors hast thou driven me; out of which 
 
 1 find no way, from deep to deeper plunged!" 
 
 Thus Adam to himself lamented loud 
 Through the still night; not now, as ere man fell, 
 Wholesome, and cool, and mild, but with black air 
 Accompanied, with damps and dreadful gloom 
 Which to his evil conscience represented 
 All things with double terror. On the ground 
 Outstretched he lay, on the cold ground, and oft 
 Curs'd his creation;, death as oft accused 
 Of tardy execution, since denounced 
 The day of his offence. " Why comes not death,'* 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 317 
 
 Said he, " with one thrice-acceptable stroke 
 To end me? Shall truth fail to keep her word? 
 Justice divine not hasten to be just? 
 But death comes not at call; justice divine 
 Mends not her slowest pace for prayers or cries. 
 
 woods, fountains, hillocks, dales, and bowers! 
 With other echo late I taught your shades 
 
 To answer, and resound far other song !" 
 Whom thus afflicted when sad Eve beheld, 
 Desolate where she sat, approaching nigh, 
 Soft words to his fierce passion she assay'd; 
 But her, with stern regard, he thus repell'd: 
 
 " Out of my sight, thou serpent! That name best 
 Befits thee with him leagued, thyself as false 
 And hateful; nothing wants, but that thy shape, 
 Like his, and colour serpentine, may show 
 Thy inward fraud, to warn all creatures from thee 
 Henceforth; lest that too heavenly form, pretended, 
 To hellish falsehood snare them ! But for thee, 
 
 1 had persisted happy; had not thy pride, 
 And wandering vanity, when least was safe, 
 Rejected my forewarning, and disdain'd 
 Not to be trusted, longing to be seen, 
 Though by the devil himself, him overweening 
 To over-reach; but, with the serpent meeting, 
 Fool'd and beguil'd: by him thou, I by thee, 
 To trust thee from my side; imagined wise, 
 Constant, mature, proof against all assaults; 
 And understood not all was but a show, 
 Rather than solid virtue; all but a rib 
 Crooked by nature, bent, as now appears, 
 
318 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 More to the part sinister; from me drawn, 
 
 Well if thrown out, as supernumerary 
 
 To my just number found. 0! why did God, 
 
 Creator wise, that peopled highest heaven 
 
 With spirits masculine, create at last 
 
 This novelty on earth, this fair defect 
 
 Of nature, and not fill the world at once 
 
 With men, as angels, without feminine; 
 
 Or find some other way to generate 
 
 Mankind? This mischief had not then befallen; 
 
 And more that shall befall; innumerable 
 
 Disturbances on earth through female snares, 
 
 And strait conjunction with this sex; for either 
 
 He never shall find out fit mate, but such 
 
 As some misfortune brings him, or mistake; 
 
 Or whom he wishes most shall seldom gain, 
 
 Through her perverseness, but shall see her gain'd 
 
 By a far worse; or, if she love, withheld 
 
 By parents; or his happiest choice too late 
 
 Shall meet, already link'd and wedlock-bound 
 
 To a fell adversary, his hate or shame; 
 
 Which infinite calamity shall cause 
 
 To human life, and household peace confound." 
 
 He added not, and from her turn'd. But Eve, 
 Not so repulsed, with tears that ceased not flowing 
 And tresses all disordered, at his feet 
 Fell humble; and, embracing them, besought 
 His peace, and thus proceeded in her plaint: 
 
 " Forsake me not thus, Adam! witness, Heaven, 
 What love sincere and reverence in my heart 
 I bear thee, and unweeting have offended, 
 
PARADISE LOST, 319 
 
 Unhappily deceived! Thy suppliant, 
 
 I beg, and clasp thy knees; bereave me not, 
 
 Whereon I live, thy gentle looks, thy aid, 
 
 Thy counsel, in this uttermost distress 
 
 My only strength and stay : forlorn of thee, 
 
 Whither shall I betake me, where subsist? 
 
 While yet we live, scarce one short hour perhaps, 
 
 Between us two let there be peace; both joining 
 
 As join'd in injuries, one enmity 
 
 Against a foe by doom express assign 'd us, 
 
 That cruel serpent. On me exercise not 
 
 Thy hatred, for this misery befallen; 
 
 On me already lost, me than thyself 
 
 More miserable! both have sinn'd; but thou 
 
 Against God only, I against God and thee; 
 
 And to the place of judgment will return, 
 
 There with my cries importune Heaven, that all 
 
 The sentence, from thy head removed, may light 
 
 On me, sole cause to thee of all this woe; 
 
 Me only, just object of his ire." 
 
 She ended, weeping; and her lowly plight, 
 Immoveable till peace obtain'd from fault 
 Acknowledged and deplored, in Adam wrought 
 Commiseration: soon his heart relented 
 Towards her, his life so late, and sole delight, 
 Now at his feet submissive in distress: 
 Creature so fair his reconcilement seeking, 
 His counsel, whom she had displeased, his aid; 
 As one disarm'd, his anger all he lost; 
 And thus, with peaceful words, upraised her soon: 
 
 " Unwary, and too desirous, as before, 
 
320 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 So now, of what thou know'st not, who desir'st 
 The punishment all on thyself; alas! 
 Bear thine own first, ill able to sustain 
 His full wrath, whose thou feel'st as yet least part, 
 And my displeasure bear'st so ill. If prayers 
 Could alter high decrees, I to that place 
 Would speed before thee, and be louder heard, 
 That on my head all might be visited; 
 Thy frailty and infirmer sex forgiven, 
 To me committed, and by me exposed. 
 But rise; let us no more contend, nor blame 
 Each other, blamed enough elsewhere; but strive, 
 In offices of love, how we may lighten 
 Each other's burden, in our share of woe; 
 Since this day's death denounced, if aught I see, 
 Will prove 110 sudden, but a slow-paced evil, 
 A long day's dying, to augment our pain; 
 And to our seed, (0 hapless seed!) deriv'd." 
 
 To whom thus Eve, recovering heart, replied: 
 " Adam, by sad experiment I know 
 How little weight my words with thee can find, 
 Found so erroneous; thence, by just event, 
 Found so unfortunate: nevertheless, 
 Restored by thee, vile as I am, to place 
 Of new acceptance, hopeful to regain 
 Thy love, the sole contentment of my heart, 
 Living or dying, from thee I will not hide 
 What thoughts in my unquiet breast are risen, 
 Tending to some relief of our extremes, 
 Or end; though sharp and sad, yet tolerable, 
 As in our evils, and of easier choice. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 321 
 
 If care of our descent perplex us most, 
 Which must be born to certain woe, devour'd 
 By death at last; and miserable it is 
 To be to others cause of misery, 
 Our own begotten, and of our loins to bring 
 Into this cursed world a woeful race, 
 That after wretched life must be at last 
 Food for so foul a monster; in thy power 
 It lies, yet ere conception, to prevent 
 The race unblest, to being yet unbegot. 
 Childless thou art. childless remain; so Death 
 Shall be deceiv'd his glut, and with us two 
 Be forced to satisfy his ravenous maw. 
 But if thou judge it hard and difficult, 
 Conversing, looking, loving, to abstain 
 From love's due rites, nuptial embraces sweet, 
 And with desire to languish without hope, 
 Before the present object languishing 
 With like desire, which would be misery 
 And torment, less than none of what we dread; 
 Then, both ourselves and seed at once to free 
 From what we fear for both, let us make short, 
 Let us seek death; or, he not found, supply 
 With our own hands his office on ourselves. 
 Why stand we longer shivering under fears, 
 That show no end but death; and have the power 
 Of many ways to die, the shortest choosing, 
 Destruction with destruction to destroy?" 
 
 She ended here, or vehement despair 
 Broks off the rest; so much of death her thoughts 
 Had entertain'd, as dyed her cheeks with pale. 
 
322 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 But Adam, with such counsel nothing sway'd 
 To better hopes his more attentive mind 
 Labouring had raised; and thus to Eve replied: 
 
 "Eve, thy contempt of life and pleasure seems 
 To argue in thee something more sublime 
 And excellent, than what thy mind contemns; 
 But self-destruction, therefore sought, refutes 
 That excellence thought in thee, and implies, 
 Not thy contempt, but anguish and regret 
 For loss of life and pleasure overloved. 
 Or if thou covet death, as utmost end 
 Of misery, so thinking to evade 
 The penalty pronounced, doubt not but God 
 Hath wiselier arm'd his vengeful ire, than so 
 To be forestalled; much more I fear lest death, 
 So snatch'd, will not exempt us from the pain 
 We are by doom to pay; rather, such acts 
 Of contumacy will provoke the Highest 
 To make death in us live. Then let us seek 
 Some safer resolution, which methinks 
 I have in view, calling to mind with heed 
 Part of our sentence, that thy seed shall bruise 
 The serpent's head; piteous amends! unless 
 Be meant, whom I conjecture, our grand foe, 
 Satan; who, in the serpent, hath contrived 
 Against us this deceit: to crush his head 
 Would be revenge indeed, which will be lost, 
 By death brought on ourselves, or childless days, 
 Resolved as thou proposest: so our foe 
 Shall 'scape his punishment ordain'd, and we, 
 Instead, shall double ours upon our heads. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 No more be mention'd then of violence 
 Against ourselves, and wilful barrenness, 
 Than cuts us off from hope, and savours only 
 Rancour and pride, impatience and despite, 
 Reluctance against God and his just yoke 
 Laid on our necks. Remember with what mild 
 And gracious temper he hath heard and judged, 
 Without wrath or reviling: we expected 
 Immediate dissolution, which we thought 
 Was meant by death that day; when, lo! to thee 
 Pains only in child-bearing were foretold, 
 And bringing forth, soon recompensed with joy 
 Fruit of thy womb : on me the curse aslope 
 Glanced on the ground; with labour I must earn 
 My bread: what harm? Idleness had been worse; 
 My labour will sustain me; and, lest cold 
 Or heat should injure us, his timely care 
 Hath, unbesought, provided; and his hands 
 Clothed us, unworthy, pitying while he judged. 
 How much more, if we pray him, will his ear 
 Be open, and his heart to pity incline, 
 And teach us further, by what means to shun 
 The inclement seasons, rain, ice, hail, and snow. 
 Which now the sky, with various face, begins 
 To show us in this mountain; while the winds 
 Blow moist and keen, shattering the graceful locks 
 Of these fair-spreading trees; which bids us seek 
 Some better shroud, some better warmth to cherisli 
 Our limbs benumb'd, ere this diurnal star 
 Leave cold the night; how we his gather'd beams 
 Reflected, may with matter sere foment 
 Or, by collision of two bodies, grind 
 
324 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 The air attrite to fire; as late the clouds 
 Justling, or push'd with winds, rude in their shock, 
 Time theslant lightning, whose thwart flame, driv'n 
 Kindles the gummy bark of fir or pine, [down, 
 And sends a comfortable heat from far, 
 Which might supply the sun: such fire to use, 
 And what may else be remedy or cure 
 To evils, which our own misdeeds have wrought, 
 He will instruct us praying, and of grace 
 Beseeching him; so as we need not fear 
 To pass comniodiously this life, sustained 
 By him with many comforts, till we end 
 In dust, our final rest and native home. 
 What better can we do, than, to the place 
 Repairing where he judged us, prostrate fall 
 Before him reverent; and there confess 
 Humbly our faults, and pardon beg, with tears 
 Watering the ground, and with our sighs the air 
 Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign 
 Of sorrow unfeign'd, and humiliation meek ? 
 Undoubtedly he will relent, and turn 
 From his displeasure; in whose look serene, 
 When angry most he seem'd and most severe, 
 What else but favour, grace, and mercy shone?" 
 
 So spake our father penitent; nor Eve 
 Felt less remorse: they, forthwith to the place 
 Repairing where he judged them, prostrate fell 
 Before him reverent, and both confess'd 
 Humbly their faults, and pardon begg'd, with tears 
 Watering the ground, and with their sighs the air 
 Frequenting, sent from heart contrite, in sign 
 Of sorrow unfeign'd, and humiliation meek. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 BOOK XL 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The Son of God presents to his Father the prayers of our first 
 parents, now repenting, and intercedes for them. God ac- 
 cepts them, but declares that they must no longer abide in 
 Paradise: sends Michael with a band of cherubim to dis- 
 possess them; but first to reveal to Adam future things. 
 Michael's coming down. A dam shows to Eve certain omin- 
 ous signs; he discerns Michael's approach; goes out to meet 
 him; the angel denounces their departure. Eve's lamenta- 
 tion. Adam pleads, but submits. The angel leads him up 
 to a high hill: sets before him in vision what shall happen 
 till the flood. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 BOOK XL 
 
 THUS they, in lowliest plight, repentant stood, 
 Praying; for from the mercy-seat above 
 Preventant grace, descending, had removed 
 The stony from their hearts, and made new flesh, 
 Regenerate, grow instead; that sighs now breath'd 
 Unutterable; which the spirit of prayer 
 Inspired, and wing'd for heaven with speedier flight 
 Than loudest oratory: yet their port 
 Not of mean suitors; nor important less 
 Seem'd their petition, than when the ancient pair 
 In fables old, less ancient yet than these, 
 Deucalion and chaste Pyrrha, to restore 
 The race of mankind drown'd, before the shrine 
 Of Themis stood devout. To heaven their prayers 
 Flew up, nor miss'd the way, by envious winds 
 Blown vagabond or frustrate; in they pass'd, 
 Dimensionless, through heavenly doors; then clad 
 With incense, where the golden altar fumed, 
 By their great Intercessor, came in sight 
 Before the Father's throne; them the glad Son 
 Presenting, thus to intercede began: 
 
328 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 " See, Father, what first-fruits on earth are sprung 
 From thy implanted grace in man; these sighs 
 And prayers, which in this golden censer mix'd 
 With incense, I thy priest before thee bring; 
 Fruits of more pleasing savour from thy seed, 
 Sown with contrition in his heart, than those 
 Which, his own hand manuring, all the trees 
 Of Paradise could have produced, ere fallen 
 From innocence. Now therefore bend thine ear 
 To supplication; hear his sighs, though mute; 
 Unskilful with what words to pray, let me 
 Interpret for him; me, his Advocate 
 And Propitiation; all his works on me, 
 Good or not good, ingraft; my merit those 
 Shall perfect, and for these my death shall pay. 
 Accept me; and, in me, from these receive 
 The smell of peace toward mankind; let him live 
 Before thee reconciled, at least his days 
 Number' d, though sad; till death his doom (which I 
 To mitigate thus plead, not to reverse,) 
 To better life shall yield him; where with me 
 All my redeem'd may dwell in joy and bliss, 
 Made one with me, as I with thee am one." 
 
 To whom the Father, without cloud, serene: 
 " All thy request for man, accepted Son, 
 Obtain; all thy request was my decree; 
 But longer in that Paradise to dwell 
 The law I gave to nature him forbids: 
 Those pure immortal elements, that know 
 No gross, no inharmonious mixture foul, 
 Eject him, tainted now, and purge him off, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 329 
 
 As a distemper gross, to air as gross, 
 And mortal food; as may dispose him best 
 For dissolution wrought by sin, that first 
 Distemper'd all things, and of incorrupt 
 Corrupted. I, at first, with two fair gifts 
 Created him endow'd; with happiness 
 And immortality: that fondly lost, 
 This other served but to eternize woe, 
 Till I provided death: so death becomes 
 His final remedy; and, after life, 
 Tried in sharp tribulation, and refined 
 By faith and faithful works, to second life, 
 Waked in the renovation of the just, 
 Resigns him up, with heaven and earth renew'd. 
 But let us call to synod all the bless'd, [not hide 
 Through heaven's wide bounds; from them I will 
 My judgments; how with mankind I proceed 
 As how with peccant angels late they saw, [firm'd." 
 And in their state, though firm, stood more con- 
 He ended; and the Son gave signal high 
 To the bright minister that watch'd: he blew 
 His trumpet, heard in Oreb since perhaps, 
 When God descended; and perhaps once more 
 To sound, at general doom. The angelic blast 
 Fill'd all the regions: from their blissful bowers 
 Of amaranthine shade, fountain or spring, 
 By the waters of life, where'er they sat 
 In fellowships of joy, the sons of light 
 Hasted, resorting to the summons high, 
 And took their seats: till from his throne supreme 
 The Almighty thus pronounced his sovereign will: 
 
330 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 " sons, like one of us man is become, 
 To know both good and evil, since his taste 
 Of that defended fruit; but let him boast 
 His knowledge of good lost, and evil got; 
 Happier, had it sufficed him to have known 
 Good by itself, and evil not at all. 
 He sorrows now, repents, and prays contrite, 
 My motions in him; longer than they move, 
 His heart I know how variable and vain, 
 Self-left. Lest therefore his now bolder hand 
 Beach also of the tree of life, and eat, 
 And live for ever, dream at least to live 
 For ever, to remove him I decree, 
 And send him from the garden forth to till 
 The ground, whence he was taken, fitter soil. 
 Michael, this my behest hare thou in charge: 
 Take to thee, from among the cherubim, 
 Thy choice of flaming warriors, lest the Fiend, 
 Or in behalf of man, or to invade 
 Vacant possession, some new trouble raise: 
 Haste thee, and from the Paradise of God 
 Without remorse drive out the sinful pair; 
 From hallow' d ground the unholy; and denounce 
 To them and to their progeny from thence 
 Perpetual banishment. Yet, lest they faint 
 At the sad sentence rigorously urged, 
 (For I behold them soften'd, and with tears 
 Bewailing their excess,) all terror hide. 
 If patiently thy bidding they obey, 
 Dismiss them not disconsolate; reveal 
 To Adam what shall come in future days, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 331 
 
 As I shall thee enlighten; intermix 
 
 My covenant in the woman's seed renew'd: 
 
 So send them forth, though sorrowing, yet in 
 
 And on the east side of the garden place, [peace. 
 
 Where entrance up from Eden easiest climbs, 
 
 Cherubic watch; and of a sword the flame 
 
 Wide-waving; all approach far off to fright, 
 
 And guard all passage to the tree of life: 
 
 Lest Paradise a receptacle prove 
 
 To spirits foul; and all my trees their prey, 
 
 With whose stolen fruit man once more to delude." 
 
 He ceased; and the archangelic power prepared 
 For swift descent; with him the cohort bright 
 Of watchful cherubim; four faces each 
 Had, like a double Janus; all their shape 
 Spangled with eyes, more numerous than those 
 Of Argus, and more wakeful than to drowse, 
 Charm'd with Arcadian pipe, the pastoral reed 
 Of Hermes, or his opiate rod. Meanwhile, 
 To re-salute the world with sacred light, 
 Leucothea waked, and with fresh dews embalm'd 
 The earth, when Adam and first matron Eve 
 Had ended now their orisons, and found 
 Strength added from above; new hope to spring 
 Out of despair; joy, but with fear yet link'd; 
 Which thus to Eve his welcome words renew'd: 
 
 " Eve, easily may faith admit, that all 
 The good which we enjoy from heaven descends; 
 But that from us aught should ascend to heaven, 
 So prevalent, as to concern the mind 
 Of God, high-bless'd, or to incline his will, 
 
332 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Hard to belief may seem; yet this will prayer, 
 Or one short sigh of human breath, upborne 
 Even to the seat of God. For since I sought 
 By prayer the offended Deity to appease, 
 Kneel'd, and before him humbled all my heart, 
 Methought I saw him placable and mild 
 Bending his ear; persuasion in me grew 
 That I was heard with favour; peace returned 
 Home to my breast, and to my memory 
 His promise, that thy seed shall bruise our foe: 
 Which, then not minded in dismay, yet now 
 Assures me that the bitterness of death 
 Is past, and we shall live. Whence hail to thee, 
 Eve rightly call'd, mother of all mankind, 
 Mother of all things living, since by thee 
 Man is to live; and all things live for man." 
 
 To whom thus Eve, with sad demeanour, meek: 
 " Ill-worthy I, such title should belong 
 To me, transgressor; who, for thee ordain'd 
 A help, became thy snare; to me reproach 
 Rather belongs, distrust, and all dispraise: 
 But infinite in pardon was my Judge, 
 That I, who first brought death on all, am graced 
 The source of life: next favourable thou, 
 Who highly thus to entitle me vouch safest, 
 Far other name deserving. But the field 
 To labour calls us, now with sweat imposed, 
 Though after sleepless night; for see ! the morn, 
 All unconcern'd with our unrest, begins 
 Her rosy progress smiling; let us forth; 
 I never from thy side henceforth to stray, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 333 
 
 Where'er our day's work lies, though now enjoin'd 
 Laborious, till day droop: while here we dwell, 
 What can be toilsome in these pleasant walks'? 
 Here let us live, though in fallen state, content." 
 
 So spake, so wish'd, much humbled Eve; but fate 
 Subscribed not: Nature first gave signs, impress'd 
 On bird, beast, air; air suddenly eclipsed, 
 After short blush of morn: nigh in her sight, 
 The bird of Jove, stoop'd from his -airy tour, 
 Two birds of gayest plume before him drove; 
 Down from a hill the beast that reigns in woods, 
 First hunter then, pursu'd a gentle brace, 
 Goodliest of all the forest, hart and hind; 
 Direct to the eastern gate was bent their flight. 
 Adam observed; and with his eye the chase 
 Pursuing, not unmoved, to Eve thus spake: 
 
 " Eve ! some farther change awaits us nigh, 
 Which Heaven by these mute signs in nature 
 Forerunners of his purpose; or to warn [shows, 
 Us, haply too secure of our discharge 
 From penalty, because from death released 
 Some days: how long, and what till then our life, 
 Who knows? or, more than this, that we are dust, 
 And thither must return, and be no more? 
 Why else this double object, in our sight, 
 Of flight pursued in the air, and o'er the ground 
 One way the self-same hour? why in the east 
 Darkness, ere day's mid-course, and morning-light 
 More orient in yon western cloud, that draws 
 O'er the blue firmament a radiant white, [fraught?" 
 And slow descends, with something heavenly 
 
334 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 He err'd not; for by this the heavenly bands 
 Down from a sky of jasper lighted now 
 In Paradise, and on a hill made halt; 
 A glorious apparition, had not doubt 
 And carnal fear that day dimm'd Adam's eye. 
 Not that more glorious, when the angels met 
 Jacob in Mahanaim, where he saw 
 The field pavilion'd with his guardians bright; 
 Nor that, which on the flaming mount appear'd 
 In Dothan, covered with a camp of fire, 
 Against the Syrian king, who to surprise 
 One man, assassin-like, had levied war, 
 War unproclaim'd. The princely hierarch 
 In their bright stand there left his powers, to 
 Possession of the garden: he alone [seize 
 
 To find where Adam shelter'd took his way, 
 Not unperceived of Adam; who to Eve, 
 While the great visitant approach'd, thus spake: 
 
 " Eve, now expect great tidings, which perhaps 
 Of us will soon determine, or impose 
 New laws to be observed; for I descry, 
 From yonder blazing cloud that veils the hill, 
 One of the heavenly host; and, by his gait, 
 None of the meanest: some great potentate, 
 Or of the thrones above; such majesty 
 Invests him coming: yet not terrible, 
 That I should fear, nor sociably mild, 
 As Raphael, that I should much confide; 
 But solemn and sublime; whom, not to offend, 
 With reverence I must meet, and thou retire." 
 
 He ended; and the archangel soon drew nigh; 
 
PARADISE LOST. 335 
 
 Not in his shape celestial, but as man, 
 Clad to meet man; over his lucid arms 
 A military vest of purple flow'd, 
 Livelier than Melibcean, or the grain 
 Of Sarra, worn by kings and heroes old 
 In time of truce; Iris had dipp'd the woof; 
 His starry helm unbuckled show'd him prime 
 In manhood where youth ended; by his side, 
 As in a glistering zodiac, hung the sword, 
 Satan's dire dread; and in his hand the spear. 
 Adam bow'd low; he, kingly, from his state 
 Inclined not; but his coming thus declared: 
 
 "Adam, Heaven's high behest no preface needs: 
 Sufficient that thy prayers are heard; and Death, 
 Then due by sentence when thou didst transgress, 
 Defeated of his seizure many days, 
 Given thee of grace; wherein thou may'st repent, 
 And one bad act with many deeds well done 
 Mayst cover: well may then the Lord, appeased, 
 Redeem thee quite from Death's rapacious claim; 
 But longer in this Paradise to dwell 
 Permits not: to remove thee I am come, 
 And send thee from the garden forth, to till 
 The ground whence thou wast taken, fitter soil." 
 
 He added not; for Adam, at the news 
 Heart-struck, with chilling gripe of sorrow stood, 
 That all his senses bound: Eve, who unseen, 
 Yet all had heard, with audible lament 
 Discovered soon the place of her retire: 
 
 " unexpected stroke, worse than of death ! 
 Must I thus leave thee, Paradise 1 ? thus leave 
 
336 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Thee, native soil! these happy walks and shades, 
 Fit haunt of gods? where I had hope to spend, 
 Quiet, though sad, the respite of that day 
 That must be mortal to us both. flowers! 
 That never will in other climate grow, 
 My early visitation, and my last 
 At even, which I bred up with tender hand 
 From the first opening bud, and gave ye names! 
 Who now shall rear ye to the sun, or rank 
 Your tribes, and water from the ambrosial fount? 
 Thee lastly, nuptial bower! by me adorn'd, 
 With what to sight or smell was sweet! from thee 
 How shall I part, and whither wander down 
 Into a lower world, to this obscure 
 And wild? how shall we breathe in other air 
 Less pure, accustom'd to immortal fruits?" 
 
 Whom thus the angel interrupted mild: 
 " Lament not, Eve, but patiently resign 
 What justly thou hast lost; nor set thy heart, 
 Thus over-fond, on that which is not thine: 
 Thy going is not lonely; with thee goes 
 Thy husband; him to follow thou art bound: 
 Where he abides, think there thy native soil." 
 
 Adam, by this from the cold sudden damp 
 Recovering, and his scatter'd spirits return'd, 
 To Michael thus his humble words address'd: 
 fi Celestial, whether among the thrones, or nam'd 
 Of them the highest; for of such shape may seem 
 Prince above princes! gently hast thou told 
 Thy message, which might else in telling wound, 
 And in performing, end us; what besides 
 
PARADISE LOST. 337 
 
 Of sorrow, and dejection, and despair, 
 
 Our frailty can sustain, thy tidings bring; 
 
 Departure from this happy place, our sweet 
 
 Recess, and only consolation left, 
 
 Familiar to our eyes; all places else 
 
 Inhospitable appear, and desolate; 
 
 Nor knowing us, nor known : and if by prayer 
 
 Incessant I could hope to change the will 
 
 Of him who all things can, I would not cease 
 
 To weary him with my assiduous cries: 
 
 But prayer, against his absolute decree 
 
 No more avails than breath against the wind, 
 
 Blown stifling back on him that breathes it forth: 
 
 Therefore to his great bidding I submit. 
 
 This most afflicts me; that, departing hence, 
 
 As from his face I shall be hid, deprived 
 
 His blessed countenance: here I could frequent 
 
 With worship place by place where he vouchsafed 
 
 Presence Divine: and to my sons relate; 
 
 On this mount he appear'd; under this tree 
 
 Stood visible; among these pines his voice 
 
 I heard; here with him at this fountain talked; 
 
 So many grateful altars I would rear 
 
 Of grassy turf, and pile up every stone 
 
 Of lustre from the brook, in memory 
 
 Or monument to ages; and thereon 
 
 Offer sweet-smelling gums, and fruits, and flowers 
 
 In yonder nether world where shall I seek 
 
 His bright appearances, or footstep trace? 
 
 Eor though I fled him angry, yet, recall'd 
 
 To life prolong'd and promis'd race, I now 
 
338 PAEADISE LOST. 
 
 Gladly behold, though but his utmost skirts 
 Of glory; and far off his steps adore." 
 
 To whom thus Michael, with regard benign: 
 " Adam, thou know'st heaven his, and all the earth; 
 Not this rock only; his omnipresence fills 
 Land, sea, and air, and every kind that lives, 
 Fomented by his virtual power and warni'd: 
 All the earth he gave thee to possess and rule, 
 No despicable gift; surmise not then 
 His presence to these narrow bounds confined 
 Of Paradise, or Eden: this had been 
 Perhaps thy capital seat, from whence had spread 
 All generations, and had hither come 
 From all the ends of the earth, to celebrate 
 And reverence thee, their great progenitor. 
 But this pre-eminence thou hast lost, brought down 
 To dwell on even ground now with thy sons: 
 Yet doubt not but in valley and in plain, 
 God is, as here; and will be found alike 
 Present; and of his presence many a sign 
 Still following thee, still compassing thee round 
 With goodness and paternal love, his face 
 Express, and of his steps the track divine. 
 Which that thou may'st believe, and be confirni'd, 
 Ere thou from hence depart, know, I am sent 
 To show thee what shall come in future days 
 To thee and to thy offspring: good with bad 
 Expect to hear; supernal grace contending 
 With sinfulness of men; thereby to learn 
 True patience, and to temper joy with fear 
 And pious sorrow; equally inured 
 
PARADISE LOST. 339 
 
 By moderation either state to bear, 
 Prosperous or adverse: so shalt thou lead 
 Safest thy life, and best prepared, endure 
 Thy mortal passage when it comes. Ascend 
 This hill; let Eve (for I have drench'd her eyes,) 
 Here sleep below, while thou to foresight wakest; 
 As once thou slept'st, while she to life was form'd." 
 
 To whom thus Adam gratefully replied: 
 "Ascend; I follow thee, safe guide, the path 
 Thou lead'st me; and to the hand of Heaven submit, 
 However chastening; to the evil turn 
 My obvious breast; arming to overcome 
 By suffering, and earn rest from labour won, 
 If so I may attain." So both ascend 
 In the visions of God. It was a hill, 
 Of Paradise the highest, from whose top 
 The hemisphere of earth, in clearest ken, 
 Stretch'd out to the amplest reach of prospect. 
 Not higher that hill, nor wider looking round, 
 Whereon, for different cause, the tempter set 
 Our second Adam, in the wilderness, 
 To show him all earth's kingdoms, and their glory. 
 His eye might there command wherever stood 
 City of old or modern fame, and seat 
 Of mightiest empire, from the destined walls 
 Of Cambalu, seat of Cathaian Can, 
 And Sainarcand by Oxus, Temir's throne, 
 To Paquin of Sinsean kings; and thence 
 To Agra and Lahor of great Mogul, 
 Down to the golden Chersonese, or where 
 The Persian in Ecbatan sat, or since 
 
 i 
 
340 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 In Hispahan; or where the Russian czar 
 
 In Moscow; or the sultan in Bizance, 
 
 Turchestan-born: nor could his eye not ken 
 
 The empire of Negus to his utmost port 
 
 Ercoco, and the less maritime kings, 
 
 Mombaza, and Quiloa, and Melind, 
 
 And Sofala, thought Ophir, to the realm 
 
 Of Congo, and Angola farthest south; 
 
 Or thence from Niger flood to Atlas mount, 
 
 The kingdoms of Almansor, Fez, and Sus, 
 
 Morocco, and Algiers, and Tremisen; 
 
 On Europe thence, and where Home was to sway 
 
 The world: in spirit perhaps he also saw 
 
 Rich Mexico, the seat of Montezume, 
 
 And Cusco in Peru, the richer seat 
 
 Of Atabalipa: and yet unspoil'd 
 
 Guiana, whose great city Geryon's sons 
 
 Call El Dorado. But to nobler sights 
 
 Michael from Adam's eyes the film removed, 
 
 Which that false fruit that promised clearer sight, 
 
 Had bred; then purged with euphrasy and rue 
 
 The visual nerve, for he had much to see; 
 
 And from the well of life three drops instill'd. 
 
 So deep the power of these ingredients pierced, 
 
 E'en to the inmost seat of mental sight, 
 
 That Adam, now enforced to close his eyes, 
 
 Sunk down, and all his spirits became entranced; 
 
 But him the gentle angel by the hand 
 
 Soon raised, and his attention thus recall'd: 
 
 "Adam, now ope thine eyes; and first behold 
 The effects which thy original crime hath wrought 
 
PARADISE LOST. 34 1 
 
 In some to spring from thee; who never touch'd 
 The excepted tree; nor with the snake conspired; 
 Nor sinn'd thy sin; yet from that sin derive 
 Corruption, to bring forth more violent deeds. 
 
 His eyes he open'd, and beheld a field, 
 Part arable and tilth, whereon were sheaves 
 New reap'd; the other part sheep-walks and folds: 
 In the midst an altar as the landmark stood 
 Rustic, of grassy sord: thither anon 
 A sweaty reaper from his tillage brought 
 First fruits, the green ear, and the yellow sheaf, 
 UncuU'd, as came to hand; a shepherd next, 
 More meek, came with the firstlings of his flock, 
 Choicest and best; then, sacrificing, laid 
 The inwards and their fat, with incense strow'd, 
 On the cleft wood, and all due rites perform'd: 
 His offering soon propitious fire from heaven 
 Consumed with nimble glance, and grateful steam; 
 The other's not, for his was not sincere; 
 Whereat he inly raged, and, as they talk'd, 
 Smote him into the midriff with a stone 
 That beat out life: he fell; and, deadly pale, 
 Groan' d out his soul with gushing blood effused. 
 Much at that sight was Adam in his heart 
 Dismay'd, and thus in haste to the angel cried: 
 
 " teacher, some great mischief hath befallen 
 To that meek man, who well had sacrificed: 
 Is piety thus and pure devotion paid?" 
 
 To whom Michael thus, he also moved, replied: 
 " These two are brethren, Adam, and to come 
 Out of thy loins; the unjust the just hath slain. 
 
342 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 For envy that his brother's offering found 
 From Heaven acceptance; but the bloody fact 
 "Will be avenged; and the other's faith, approved, 
 Lose no reward: though here thou see him die, 
 Rolling in dust and gore." To which our sire: 
 
 " Alas ! both for the deed and for the cause ! 
 But have I now seen death? Is this the way 
 I must return to native dust? sight 
 Of terror, foul and ugly to behold, 
 Horrid to think, how horrible to feel!" 
 
 To whom thus Michael: "Death thou hast seen 
 In his first shape on man; but many shapes 
 Of death, and many are the ways that lead 
 To his grim cave, all dismal; yet, to sense. 
 More terrible at the entrance than within. 
 Some, as thou saw'st, by violent stroke shall die; 
 By fire, flood, famine, by intemperance more 
 In meats and drinks, which on the earth shall bring 
 Diseases dire, of which a monstrous crew 
 Before thee shall appear; that thou may'st know 
 What misery the inabstinence of Eve 
 Shall bring on men." Immediately a place 
 Before his eyes appear'd, sad, noisome, dark; 
 A lazar-house it seem'd, wherein were laid 
 Numbers of all diseased; all maladies 
 Of ghastly spasm, or racking torture, qualms 
 Of heart-sick agony, all feverous kinds, 
 Convulsions, epilepsies, fierce catarrhs, 
 Intestine stone and ulcer, colic pangs, 
 Demoniac frenzy, moping melancholy, 
 And moon-struck madness, pining atrophy, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 343 
 
 Marasmus, and wide-wasting pestilence, 
 Dropsies and asthmas, and joint-racking rheums. 
 Dire was the tossing, deep the groans; Despair 
 Tended the sick, busiest from couch to couch; 
 And over thenf triumphant Death his dart 
 Shook, but delay'd to strike, though oft invok'd 
 With vows, as their chief good and final hope. 
 Sight so deform what heart of rock could long 
 Dry-eyed behold? Adam could not, but wept, 
 Though not of woman born; compassion quell'd 
 His best of man, and gave him up to tears 
 A space, till firmer thoughts restrain'd excess; 
 And, scarce recovering words, his plaint renew'd: 
 
 " miserable mankind, to what fall 
 Degraded, to what wretched state reserved ! 
 Better end here unborn. Why is life given, 
 To be thus wrested from us? rather, why 
 Obtruded on us thus? who, if we knew 
 What to receive, would either not accept 
 Life offer'd, or soon beg to lay it down; 
 Glad to be so dismiss'd in peace. Can thus 
 The image of God in man, created once 
 So goodly and erect, though faulty since, 
 To such unsightly sufferings be debased 
 Under inhuman pains? Why should not man, 
 Retaining still Divine similitude 
 In part, from such deformities be free, 
 And for his Maker's image-sake, exempt?" 
 
 *' Their Maker's image," answer'd Michael, "then 
 Forsook them, when themselves they vilified, 
 To serve ungovern'd appetite, and took 
 
344 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 His image whom they serv'd, a brutish vice, 
 Inductive mainly to the sin of Eve. 
 Therefore so abject is their punishment, 
 Disfiguring not God's likeness, but their own: 
 Or if his likeness, by themselves defaced; 
 While they pervert pure Nature's healthful rules 
 To loathsome sickness; worthily, since they 
 God's image did not reverence in themselves." 
 
 " I yield it just," said Adam, " and submit. 
 But is there yet no other way, besides 
 These painful passages, how we may come 
 To death, and mix with our connatural dust?" 
 
 " There is," said Michael, " if thou well observe 
 The rule of Not too much: by temperance taught 
 In what thou eat'st and drink'st, seeking from 
 Due nourishment, not gluttonous delight; [thence 
 Till many years over thy head return; 
 So may'st thou live, till, like ripe fruit, thou drop 
 Into thy mother's lap; or be with ease 
 Gather'd, not harshly pluck'd; for death mature, 
 This is old age; but then thou must outlive [change 
 Thy youth, thy strength, thy beauty, which will 
 To withered, weak, and gray; thy senses then, 
 Obtuse, all taste of pleasure must forego, 
 To what thou hast; and, for the air of youth, 
 Hopeful and cheerful, in thy blood will reign 
 A melancholy damp of cold and dry 
 To weigh thy spirits down; and last consume 
 The balm of life." To whom our ancestor: 
 
 " Henceforth I fly not death, nor would prolong 
 Life much; bent rather, how I may be quit, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 345 
 
 Fairest and easiest, of this cumbrous charge, 
 Which I must keep till my appointed day 
 Of rendering up, and patiently attend 
 My dissolution." Michael replied: 
 
 " Nor love thy life, nor hate; but what thou livest, 
 Live well; how long, or short, permit to Heaven: 
 And now prepare thee for another sight." 
 
 He look'd, and saw a spacious plain, whereon 
 Were tents of various hue; by some, were herds 
 Of cattle grazing; others, whence the sound 
 Of instruments, that made melodious chime, 
 Was heard, of harp and organ; and who moved 
 Their stops and chords were seen; his volant touch, 
 Instinct through all proportions, low and high, 
 Fled and pursued transverse the resonant fugue. 
 In other part stood one, who, at the forge 
 Labouring, two massy clods of iron and brass 
 Had melted, (whether found where casual fire 
 Had wasted woods on mountain or in vale, 
 Down to the veins of earth; thence gliding hot 
 To some cave's mouth; or whether wash'd by stream 
 From under ground;) the liquid ore he drain'd 
 Into fit moulds prepared; from which he form'd 
 First his own tools; then, what might else be 
 Fusil or graven in metal. After these, [wrought 
 But on the hither side, a different sort [seat, 
 
 From the high neighbouring hills, which was their 
 Down to the plain descended; by their guise 
 Just men they seem'd, and all their study bent 
 To worship God aright, and know his works [serve 
 Not hid; nor those things last, which might pre- 
 
346 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Freedom and peace to men: they on the plain 
 Long had not walk'd, when from the tents, behold ! 
 A bevy of fair women, richly gay 
 In gems and wanton dress; to the harp they sung 
 Soft amorous ditties, and in dance came on. 
 The men, though grave, eyed them, and let their 
 Rove without rein; till, in the amorous net [eyes 
 Fast caught, they liked; and each his liking chose. 
 And now of love they treat, till the evening star, 
 Love's harbinger, appear'd; then, all in heat, 
 They light the nuptial torch, and bid invoke 
 Hymen, then first to marriage rites invoked: 
 With feast and music all the tents resound. 
 Such happy interview, and fair event, 
 Of love and youth not lost, songs, garlands, flowers, 
 And charming symphonies, attach'd the heart 
 Of Adam, soon inclined to admit delight, 
 The bent of nature; which he thus express'd: 
 
 " True opener of mine eyes, prime angel bless'd; 
 Much better seems this vision, and more hope 
 Of peaceful days portends, than those two past: 
 Those were of hate and death, or pain, much worse; 
 Here nature seems fulfill'd in all her ends." [best 
 
 To whom thus Michael: " Judge not what is 
 By pleasure, though to nature seeming meet; 
 Created as thou art, to nobler end, 
 Holy and pure, conformity divine. 
 Those tents thou saw'st so pleasant, were the tents 
 Of wickedness, wherein shall dwell his race 
 Who slew his brother; studious they appear 
 Of arts that polish life, inventors rare; 
 
PAEADISE LOST. 347 
 
 Unmindful of their Maker, though his Spirit 
 Taught them; but they his gifts acknowledg'd 
 Yet they a beauteous offspring shall beget; [none. 
 For that fair female troop thou saw'st, that seem'd 
 Of goddesses, so blithe, so smooth, so gay, 
 Yet empty of all good, wherein consists 
 Woman's domestic honour and chief praise; 
 Bred only and completed to the taste 
 Of lustful appetite, to sing, to dance, 
 To dress, and troll the tongue, and roll the eye; 
 To these, that sober race of men, whose lives 
 Religious titled them the sons of God, 
 Shall yield up all their virtue, all their fame, 
 Ignobly, to the trains and to the smiles 
 Of these fair atheists; and now swim in joy, 
 Ere long to swim at large; and laugh, for which 
 The world ere long a world of tears must weep." 
 
 To whom thus Adam, of short joy bereft: 
 " pity and shame, that they, who to live well 
 Enter'd so fair, should turn aside to tread 
 Paths indirect, or in the midway faint ! 
 But still I see the tenor of man's woe 
 Hold on the same, from woman to begin." 
 
 " From man's effeminate slackness it begins," 
 Said the angel, " who should better hold his place, 
 By wisdom and superior gifts received. 
 But now prepare thee for another scene." 
 
 He look'd, and saw wide territory spread 
 Before him, towns, and rural works between; 
 Cities of men with lofty gates and towers, 
 Concourse in arms, fierce faces threatening war, 
 
348 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Giants of mighty bone and bold emprise; 
 
 Part wield their arms, part curb the foaming steed, 
 
 Single or in array of battle ranged, 
 
 Both horse and foot; nor idly mustering stood: 
 
 One way a band select from forage drives 
 
 A herd of beeves, fair oxen and fair kine, 
 
 From a fat meadow ground; or fleecy flock, 
 
 Ewes and their bleating lambs, over the plain, 
 
 Their booty; scarce with life the shepherds fly, 
 
 But call in aid, which makes a bloody fray; 
 
 With cruel tournament the squadrons join; 
 
 Where cattle pastured late, now scatter'd lies 
 
 With carcasses and arms the ensanguined field 
 
 Deserted: others to a city strong 
 
 Lay siege, encamped; by battery, scale, and mine, 
 
 Assaulting; others from the wall defend 
 
 With dart and javelin, stones and sulphurous fire; 
 
 On each hand slaughter, and gigantic deeds. 
 
 In other part, the sceptred heralds call 
 
 To council, in the city gates; anon 
 
 Gray-headed men and grave, with warriors mix'd, 
 
 Assemble, and harangues are heard, but soon 
 
 In factious opposition; till at last, 
 
 Of middle age one rising, eminent 
 
 In wise deport, spake much of right and wrong, 
 
 Of justice, of religion, truth, and peace, 
 
 And judgment from above: him old and young 
 
 Exploded, and had seized with violent hands, 
 
 Had not a cloud descending snatched him thence, 
 
 Unseen amid the throng: so violence 
 
 Proceeded, and oppression, and sword-law, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 349 
 
 Through all the plain, and refuge none was found. 
 Adam was all in tears, and to his guide 
 Lamenting turn'd full sad: "0 what are these, 
 Death's ministers, not men? who thus deal death 
 Inhumanly to men, and multiply 
 Ten thousand-fold the sin of him that slew 
 His brother; for of whom such massacre 
 Make they, but of their brethren, men of men? 
 But who was that just man, whom, had not Heaven 
 Rescued, had in his righteousness been lost ?" 
 
 To whom thus Michael: " These are the product 
 Of those ill-mated marriages thou saw'st; 
 Where good with bad were match'd, who of them- 
 Abhor to join; and, by imprudence mix'd, [selves 
 Produce prodigious births of body or mind. 
 Such were these giants, men of high renown; 
 For in those days might only shall be admired, 
 And valour and heroic virtue call'd; 
 To overcome in battle, and subdue 
 Nations, and bring home spoils with infinite 
 Man-slaughter, shall be held the highest pitch 
 Of human glory; and for glory done 
 Of triumph, to be styled great conquerors, 
 Patrons of mankind, gods, and sons of gods; 
 Destroyers rightlier call'd, and plagues of men. 
 Thus fame shall be achieved, renown on earth; 
 And what most merits fame in silence hid. 
 But he, the seventh from thee, whom thou beheld'st 
 The only righteous in a world perverse, 
 And therefore hated, therefore so beset 
 With foes, for daring single to be just, 
 
350 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 And utter odious truth, that God would come 
 To judge them with his saints: him the Most High, 
 Rapt in a balmy cloud, with winged steeds, 
 Did, as thou saw'st, receive, to walk with God 
 High in salvation and the climes of bliss, 
 Exempt from death; to show thee what reward 
 Awaits the good, the rest what punishment; 
 Which now direct thine eyes, and soon behold." 
 
 He look'd,and saw the face of things quite chang'd; 
 The brazen throat of war had ceased to roar; 
 And all was turn'd to jollity and game, 
 To luxury and riot, feast and dance, 
 Marrying or prostituting, as befell, 
 Rape or adultery, where passing fair 
 Allured them; thence from cups to civil broils. 
 At length a reverend sire among them came, 
 And of their doings great dislike declared, 
 And testified against their ways; he oft 
 Frequented their assemblies, whereso met, 
 Triumphs or festivals, and to them preach'd 
 Conversion and repentance, as to souls 
 In prison, under judgments imminent: 
 But all in vain: which when he saw, he ceas'd 
 Contending, and removed his tents far off. 
 Then from the mountain hewing timber tall, 
 Began to build a vessel of huge bulk, [height, 
 Measured by cubit, length, and breadth, and 
 Smear'd round with pitch, and in the side a door 
 Contrived; and of provisions laid in large, 
 For man and beast: when, lo! a wonder strange! 
 Of every beast, and bird, and insect small, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 351 
 
 Came sevens and pairs, and enter'd in as taught 
 Their order; lasfc the sire and his three sons, 
 With their four wives; and God made fast the door. 
 Meanwhile the south wind rose,and with black wings 
 Wide-hovering, all the clouds together drove, 
 From under heaven; the hills to their supply 
 Vapour and exhalation dusk and moist 
 Sent up amain; and now the thickened sky 
 Like a dark ceiling stood; down rush'd the rain 
 Impetuous, and continued till the earth 
 No more was seen: the floating vessel swam 
 Uplifted, and secure with beaked prow 
 Rode tilting o'er the waves; all dwellings else 
 Flood overwhelm'd, and them with all their pomp 
 Deep under water roll'd; sea covered sea, 
 Sea without shore; and in their palaces, 
 Where luxury late reign'd, sea-monsters whelp'd 
 And stabled: of mankind, so numerous late, 
 All left in one small bottom swam embark'd. 
 How didst thou grieve then, Adam, to behold 
 The end of all thy offspring, end so sad, 
 Depopulation! Thee another flood 
 Of tears and sorrow a flood, thee also drown'd, 
 And sunk thee as thy sons; till, gently rear'd 
 By the angel, on thy feet thou stood'st at last, 
 Though comfortless; as when a father mourns 
 His children all in view destroy'd at once; 
 And scarce to the. angel utter'dst thus thy plaint: 
 
 " visions ill foreseen! better had I 
 Lived ignorant of future! so had borne 
 My part of evil only, each day's lot 
 
352 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Enough to bear; those now, that were dispensed 
 The burden of many ages, on me light 
 At once, by my foreknowledge gaining birth 
 Abortive, to torment me ere their being, 
 With thought that they must be. Let no man seek 
 Henceforth to be foretold what shall befall 
 Him or his children; evil he may be sure, 
 Which neither his foreknowing can prevent; 
 And he the future evil shall no less 
 In apprehension than in substance feel, 
 Grievous to bear: but that care now is past; 
 Man is not whom to warn; those few escaped 
 Famine and anguish will at last consume, 
 Wandering that watery desert: I had hope 
 When violence was ceased, and war on earth, 
 All would have then gone well; peace would have 
 
 crown'd 
 
 With length of happy days the race of man: 
 But I was far deceived; for now I see 
 Peace to corrupt, no less than war to waste. 
 How comes it thus? unfold, celestial guide; 
 And whether here the race of man will end ?" 
 
 To whom thus Michael: " Those whom last thou 
 In triumph and luxurious wealth, are they [saw'st 
 First seen in acts of prowess eminent, 
 And great exploits, but of true virtue void; 
 Who, having spill'd much blood, and done much 
 Subduing nations, and achieved thereby [waste, 
 Fame in the world, high titles, and rich prey, 
 Shall change their course to pleasure, ease, and 
 Surfeit and lust; till wantonness and pride [sloth, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 353 
 
 Baise out of friendship hostile deeds in peace. 
 The conquer'd also, and enslav'd by war, 
 Shall, with their freedom lost, all virtue lose 
 And fear of God; from whom, their piety feign'd 
 In sharp contest of battle found no aid 
 Against invaders; therefore, cool'd in zeal, 
 Thenceforth shall practise how to live secure, 
 Worldly or dissolute, on what their lords 
 Shall leave them to enjoy; for the earth shall bear 
 More than enough, that temperance may be tried: 
 So all shall turn degenerate, all depraved; 
 Justice and temperance, truth and faith forgot; 
 One man except, the only son of light 
 In a dark age, against example good, 
 Against allurement, custom, and a world 
 Offended; fearless of reproach and scorn, 
 Or violence, he of their wicked ways 
 Shall them admonish; and before them set 
 The paths of righteousness, how much more safe 
 And full of peace; denouncing wrath to come, 
 On their impenitence; and shall return, 
 Of them derided, but of God observed 
 The one just man alive by his command; 
 Shall build a wondrous ark, as thou beheld'st, 
 To save himself and household, from amidst 
 A world devote to universal wrack. 
 No sooner he, with them of man and beast 
 Select for life, shall in the ark be lodged, 
 And shelter'd round, but all the cataracts 
 Of heaven set open on the earth shall pour 
 
 Rain day and night; all fountains of the deep, 
 
 z 
 
354 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Broke up, shall heave the ocean to usurp 
 Beyond all bounds; till inundation rise 
 Above the highest hills: then shall this mount 
 Of Paradise by might of waves be moved 
 Out of his place, pushed by the horned flood, 
 With all his verdure spoil'd, the trees adrift, 
 Down the great river to the opening gulf, 
 And there take root, an island salt and bare, 
 The haunt of seals, and ores, and sea-mew's clang: 
 To teach thee that God attributes to place 
 No sanctity, if none be thither brought 
 By men who there frequent, or therein dwell. 
 And now, what further shall ensue, behold." 
 
 He look'd, and saw the ark-hull on the flood, 
 Which now abated; for the clouds were fled, 
 Driven by a keen north wind, that, blowing dry, 
 Wrinkled the face of deluge, as decay 'd; 
 And the clear sun on his wide watery glass 
 Gazed hot, and of the fresh wave largely drew, 
 As after thirst; which made their flowing shrink 
 From standing lake to tripping ebb, that stole 
 With soft foot towards the deep; who now had 
 
 stopp'd 
 
 His sluices, as the heaven his windows shut. 
 The ark no more now floats, but seems on ground, 
 Fast on the top of some high mountain fix'd. 
 And now the tops of hills, as rocks, appear; 
 With clamour thence the rapid currents drive, 
 Towards the retreating sea, their furious tide. 
 Forthwith from out the ark a raven flies; 
 And, after him, the surer messenger, 
 
PAKADISE LOST. 
 
 355 
 
 A dove, sent forth once and again to spy 
 Green tree or ground, whereon his foot may light: 
 The second time returning, in his bill 
 An olive-leaf he brings, pacific sign: 
 Anon dry ground appears, and from his ark 
 The ancient sire descends, with all his train: 
 Then with uplifted hands, and eyes devout, 
 Grateful to Heaven, over his head beholds 
 A dewy cloud, and in the cloud a bow 
 Conspicuous with three listed colours gay, 
 Betokening peace from God, and covenant new: 
 Whereat the heart of Adam, erst so sad, 
 Greatly rejoiced; and thus his joy broke forth: 
 
 " thou, who future things canst represent 
 As present, heavenly instructor ! I revive 
 At this last sight; assured that man shall live, 
 With all the creatures, and their seed preserve. 
 Far less I now lament for one whole world 
 Of wicked sons destroyed, than I rejoice 
 For one man found so perfect, and so just, 
 That God vouchsafes to raise another world 
 From him, and all his anger to forget. [heaven 
 But say, what mean those colour'd streaks in 
 Distended, as the brow of God appeased ? 
 Or serve they, as a flowery verge, to bind 
 The fluid skirts of that same watery cloud, 
 Lest it again dissolve, and shower the earth?" 
 
 To whom the archangel: "Dextrously thou 
 So willingly doth God remit his ire, [aim'st; 
 
 Though late repenting him of man depraved; 
 Grieved at his heart, when looking down he saw 
 
356 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 The whole earth fill'd with violence, and all flesh 
 Corrupting each their way; yet, those removed, 
 Such grace shall one just man find in his sight, 
 That he relents, not to blot out mankind; 
 And makes a covenant never to destroy 
 The earth again by flood; nor let the sea 
 Surpass his bounds; nor rain to drown the world, 
 With man therein or beast; but when he brings 
 Over the earth a cloud, will therein set 
 His triple-colour'd bow, whereon to look, 
 And call to mind his covenant: day and night, 
 Seed-time and harvest, heat and hoary frost, [new, 
 Shall hold their course; till fire purge all things 
 Both heaven and earth, wherein the just shall 
 dwell." 
 
 END OF BOOK XL 
 
DADAniOC I n r -B- 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 BOOK XII. 
 
 Henceforth what is to come I will relate; 
 Thou therefore give due audience, and attend. 
 This second source of men, while yet but few, 
 And while the dread of judgment past remains 
 Eresh in their minds, fearing the Deity, 
 With some regard to what is just and right 
 Shall lead their lives, and multiply apace; 
 Labouring the soil, and reaping plenteous crop, 
 Corn, wine, and oil: and, from the herd or flock, 
 Oft sacrificing bullock, lamb, or kid, 
 
356 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 The whole earth fill'd with violence, and all flesh 
 Corrupting each their way; yet, those removed, 
 Such grace shall one just man find in his sight, 
 That he relents, not to blot out mankind; 
 And makes a covenant never to destroy 
 The earth again by flood; nor let the sea 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The angel Michael continues, from the flood, to relate what shall 
 succeed: then, in the mention of Abraham, comes by degrees 
 to explain who that Seed of the woman shall be, which was 
 promised Adam and Eve in the fall; his incarnation, 
 death, resurrection, and ascension; the state of the church 
 till his second coming. Adam, greatly satisfied and re-com- 
 forted by these relations and promises, descends the hill with 
 Michael; wakens Eve, who all this while had slept, but with 
 gentle dreams composed to quietness of mind and submission. 
 Michael in either hand leads them out of paradise, the fiery 
 sword waving behind them, and the cherubim taking their 
 stations to guard the place. 
 
 END OF BOOK XL 
 
PARADISE LOST 
 
 BOOK XII. 
 
 As one who in his journey bates at noon, [paused 
 Though bent on speed; so here the archangel 
 Betwixt the world destroy'd and world restored, 
 If Adam aught perhaps might interpose; 
 Then, with transition sweet, new speech resumes: 
 
 " Thus thou hast seen one world begin, and end; 
 And man, as from a second stock, proceed. 
 Much thou hast yet to see; but I perceive 
 Thy mortal sight to fail; objects divine 
 Must needs impair and weary human sense: 
 Henceforth what is to come I will relate; 
 Thou therefore give due audience, and attend. 
 This second source of men, while yet but few, 
 And while the dread of judgment past remains 
 Eresh in their minds, fearing the Deity, 
 With some regard to what is just and right 
 Shall lead their lives, and multiply apace; 
 Labouring the soil, and reaping plenteous crop, 
 Corn, wine, and oil: and, from the herd or flock, 
 Oft sacrificing bullock, lamb, or kid, 
 
360 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 With large wine-offerings pour'd, and sacred feast, 
 
 Shall spend their days in joy unblamed; and dwell 
 
 Long time in peace, by families and tribes, 
 
 Under paternal rule: till one shall rise 
 
 Of proud ambitious heart; who, not content 
 
 With fair equality, fraternal state, 
 
 Will arrogate dominion undeserved 
 
 Over his brethren, and quite dispossess 
 
 Concord and law of nature from the earth; 
 
 Hunting, (and men, not beasts, shall be his game,) 
 
 With war, and hostile snare, such as refuse 
 
 Subjection to his empire tyrannous: 
 
 A mighty hunter thence he shall be styled 
 
 Before the Lord; as in despite of Heaven, 
 
 Or from Heaven claiming second sovereignty; 
 
 And from rebellion shall derive his name, 
 
 Though of rebellion others he accuse. 
 
 He with a crew, whom like ambition joins 
 
 With him or under him to tyrannize, 
 
 Marching from Eden, towards the west, shall find 
 
 The plain, wherein a black bitumenous gurge 
 
 Boils out from under ground, the mouth of hell; 
 
 Of brick, and of that stuff, they cast to build 
 
 A city and tower, whose top may reach to heaven, 
 
 And get themselves a name; lest, far dispers'd 
 
 In foreign lands, their memory be lost; 
 
 Regardless whether good or evil fame. 
 
 But God, who oft descends to visit men 
 
 Unseen, and through their habitations walks 
 
 To mark their doings, them beholding soon, 
 
 Comes down to see their city, ere the tower 
 
PARADISE LOST. 361 
 
 Obstruct heaven-towers; and in derision sets 
 Upon their tongues a various spirit, to rase 
 Quite out their native language; and, instead, 
 To sow a jangling noise of words unknown. 
 Forthwith a hideous gabble rises loud, 
 Among the builders; each to other calls, 
 Not understood, till hoarse, and all in rage, [ven, 
 As mock'd they storm: great laughter was in hea- 
 And looking down, to see the hubbub strange, 
 And hear the din: thus was the building left 
 Ridiculous, and the work Confusion named." 
 
 Whereto thus Adam, fatherly displeased: 
 " execrable son, so to aspire 
 Above his brethren: to himself assuming 
 Authority, usurp'd from God, not given ! 
 He gave us only over beast, fish, fowl, 
 Dominion absolute; that right we hold 
 By his donation; but man over men 
 He made not lord: such title to himself 
 Reserving, human left from human free. 
 But this usurper his encroachment proud 
 Stays not on man: to God his tower intends 
 Siege and defiance; wretched man! what food 
 Will he convey up thither, to sustain 
 Himself and his rash army; where thin air 
 Above the clouds will pine his entrails gross, 
 And famish him of breath, if not of bread?" 
 
 To whom thus Michael: Justly thou abhorr'st 
 That son, who on the quiet state of men 
 Such trouble brought, affecting to subdue 
 Rational liberty; yet know withal, 
 
362 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Since thy original lapse, true liberty 
 
 Is lost, which always with right reason dwells 
 
 Twinn'd, and from her hath no dividual being; 
 
 Reason in man obscured, or not obey'd, 
 
 Immediately inordinate desires 
 
 And upstart passions catch the government 
 
 From reason; and to servitude reduce 
 
 Man, till then free. Therefore, since he permits 
 
 Within himself unworthy powers to reign 
 
 Over free reason, God, in judgment just, 
 
 Subjects him from without to violent lords; 
 
 Who oft as undeservedly enthrall 
 
 His outward freedom: tyranny must be; 
 
 Though to the tyrant thereby no excuse. 
 
 Yet sometimes nations will decline so low 
 
 From virtue, which is reason, that no wrong, 
 
 But justice, and some fatal curse annex'd, 
 
 Deprives them of their outward liberty; 
 
 Their inward lost: witness the irreverent son 
 
 Of him who built the ark; who, for the shame 
 
 Done to his father, heard this heavy curse, 
 
 Servant of servants, on his vicious race. 
 
 Thus will this latter, as the former world, 
 
 Still tend from bad to worse; till God at last 
 
 Wearied with their iniquities, withdraw 
 
 His presence from among them, and avert 
 
 His holy eyes; resolving from thenceforth 
 
 To leave them to their own polluted ways; 
 
 And one peculiar nation to select 
 
 From all the rest, of whom to be invoked, 
 
 A nation, from one faithful man to spring: 
 
PARADISE LOST. 363 
 
 Him on this side Euphrates yet residing, 
 Bred up in idol-worship: that men, 
 (Canst thou believe?) should be so stupid grown, 
 While yet the patriarch lived who 'scap'd the 
 As to forsake the living God, and fall [flood, 
 
 To worship their own work in wood and stone 
 For gods! Yet him God the Most High vouch- 
 To call by vision, from his father's house, [safes 
 His kindred, and false gods, into a land 
 Which he will show him; and from him will raise 
 A mighty nation, and upon him shower 
 His benediction so, that in his seed 
 All nations shall be bless'd: he straight obeys; 
 Not knowing to what land, yet firm believes: 
 I see him, but thou canst not, with what faith 
 He leaves his gods, his friends, and native soil, 
 Ur of Chaldea; passing now the ford 
 To Haran; after him a cumbrous train 
 Of herds and flocks, and numerous servitude; 
 Not wandering poor, but trusting all his wealth 
 With God, who call'd him, in a land unknown. 
 Canaan he now attains; I see his tents 
 Pitch'd about Sechem, and the neighboring plain 
 Of Moreh; there by promise he receives 
 Gift to his progeny of all that land, 
 From Hamath northward to the desert south; 
 (Things by their names I call, though yet unnam- 
 From Hermon east to the great western sea; [ed;) 
 Mount Hermon; yonder sea; each place behold 
 In prospect, as I point them; on the shore, 
 Mount Carinel; here, the double-founted stream, 
 
364 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Jardan, true limit eastward; but his sons 
 
 Shall dwell to Senir, that long ridge of hills. 
 
 This ponder, that all nations of the earth 
 
 Shall in his seed be blessed: by that seed 
 
 Is meant thy great Deliverer, who shall bruise 
 
 The serpent's head; whereof to thee anon 
 
 Plainlier shall be reveal'd. This patriarch bless' d, 
 
 Whom faithful Abraham due time shall call, 
 
 A son, and of his son a grandchild, leaves; 
 
 Like him in faith, in wisdom, and renown: 
 
 The grandchild, with twelve sons increased, de- 
 
 From Canaan, to a land hereafter call'd [parts 
 
 Egypt, divided by the river Nile; 
 
 See where it flows, disgorging at seven mouths 
 
 Into the sea: to sojurn in that land 
 
 He comes, invited by a younger son 
 
 In time of dearth; a son whose worthy deeds 
 
 Raise him to be the second in that realm 
 
 Of Pharaoh: there he dies, and leaves his race 
 
 Growing into a nation; and now grown 
 
 Suspected to a sequent king, who seeks 
 
 To stop their overgrowth, as inmate guests [slaves 
 
 Too numerous; whence of guests he makes them 
 
 Inhospitably, and kills their infant males: 
 
 Till by two brethren (these two brethren call 
 
 Moses an.d Aaron) sent from God to claim 
 
 His people from enthralment, they return, 
 
 With glory and spoil, back to their promised land. 
 
 But first, the lawless tyrant, who denies 
 
 To know their God, or message to regard, 
 
 Must be compell'd, by signs and judgments dire; 
 
PARADISE LOST. 365 
 
 To blood unshed the rivers must be turn'd; 
 Frogs, lice, and flies must all his palace fill 
 With loathed intrusion, and fill all the land; 
 His cattle must of rot and murrain die; 
 Botches and blains must all his flesh emboss, 
 And all his people; thunder mix'd with hail, 
 Hail mix'd with fire, must rend the Egyptian sky, 
 And wheel on earth, devouring where it rolls; 
 What it devours not, herb, or fruit, or grain, 
 A darksome cloud of locusts swarming down 
 Must eat, and on the ground leave nothing green: 
 Darkness must overshadow all his bounds, 
 Palpable darkness, and blot out three days; 
 Last, with one midnight stroke, all the first-born 
 Of Egypt must lie dead. Thus with ten wounds 
 The river-dragon tamed at length submits 
 To let his sojourn ers depart, and oft 
 Humbles his stubborn heart: but still, as ice 
 More harden'd after thaw; till, in his rage 
 Pursuing whom he late dismiss'd, the sea 
 Swallows him with his host; but them let pass, 
 As on dry land, between two crystal walls, 
 Awed by the rod of Moses so to stand 
 Divided till his rescued gain their shore: 
 Such wondrous power God to his saint will lend, 
 Though present in his angel; who shall go 
 Before them in a cloud, and pillar of fire; 
 By day a cloud, by night a pillar of fire; 
 To guide them in their journey, and remove 
 Behind them, while the obdurate king pursues: 
 All night he will pursue; but his approach 
 
366 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Darkness defends between till morning watch; 
 
 Then through the fiery pillar and the cloud, 
 
 God looking forth will trouble all his host, 
 
 And craze their chariot- wheels : when b j command 
 
 Moses once more his potent rod extends 
 
 Over the sea; the sea his rod obeys; 
 
 On their embattled ranks the waves return, 
 
 And overwhelm their war: The race elect 
 
 Safe towards Canaan from the shore advance 
 
 Through the wild desert; not the readiest way, 
 
 Lest, entering on the Canaanite alarmed, 
 
 War terrify them inexpert, and fear 
 
 Keturn them back to Egypt, choosing rather 
 
 Inglorious life with servitude; for life 
 
 To noble and ignoble is more sweet 
 
 Untrain'd in arms, where rashness leads not on. 
 
 This also shall they gain by their delay 
 
 In the wide wilderness; there they shall found 
 
 Their government, and their great senate choose 
 
 Through the twelve tribes, to rule by laws ordain'd : 
 
 God from the mount of Sinai, whose gray top 
 
 Shall tremble, he descending, will himself 
 
 In thunder, lightning, and loud trumpet's sound 
 
 Ordain them laws; part, such as appertain 
 
 To civil justice; part religious rites 
 
 Of sacrifice; informing them, by types 
 
 And shadows, of that destined Seed to bruise 
 
 The Serpent, by what means he shall achieve 
 
 Mankind's deliverance. But the voice of God 
 
 To mortal ear is dreadful: they beseech 
 
 That Moses might report to them his will, 
 
PARADISE LOST. 367 
 
 And terror cease: he grants what they besought, 
 
 Instructed that to God is no access 
 
 Without mediator; whose high office now 
 
 Moses in figure bears, to introduce 
 
 One greater, of whose day he shall foretell; 
 
 And all the prophets in their age the times 
 
 Of great Messiah shall sing. Thus, laws and rites 
 
 Established, such delight hath God in men 
 
 Obedient to his will, that he vouchsafes 
 
 Among them to set up his tabernacle; 
 
 The Holy One with mortal men to dwell: 
 
 By his prescript a sanctuary is framed 
 
 Of cedar, overlaid with gold; therein 
 
 An ark, and in the ark his testimony, 
 
 The records of his covenant; over these 
 
 A mercy-seat of gold, between the wings 
 
 Of two bright cherubim; before him burn 
 
 Seven lamps, as in a zodiac representing 
 
 The heavenly fires; over the tent a cloud 
 
 Shall rest by day, a fiery gleam by night; 
 
 Save when they journey, and at length they come, 
 
 Conducted by his angel, to the land 
 
 Promised to Abraham and his seed. The rest 
 
 Were long to tell; how many battles fought; 
 
 How many kings destroyed, and kingdoms won; 
 
 Or how the sun shall in mid heaven stand still 
 
 A day entire, and night's due course adjourn, 
 
 Man's voice commanding, ' Sun, in Gibeon stand. 
 
 And thou, moon, in the vale of Ajalon, 
 
 Till Israel overcome !' so call the third 
 
 From Abraham, son of Isaac; and from him 
 
368 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 His whole descent, who thus shall Canaan win." 
 
 Here Adam interposed: " sent from heaven, 
 Enlightener of my darkness, gracious things 
 Thou hast reveal'd; those chiefly, which concern 
 Just Abraham and his seed: now first I find 
 Mine eyes true opening, and my heart much eased; 
 Erewhile perplex'd with thoughts, what would be- 
 Of me and all mankind: but now I see [come 
 His day, in whom all nations shall be bless'd; 
 Favour unmerited by me, who sought 
 Forbidden knowledge by forbidden means. 
 This yet I apprehend not; why to those, 
 Among whom God will deign to dwell on earth, 
 So many and so various laws are given: 
 So many laws argue so many sins 
 Among them: how can God with such reside?" 
 
 To whom thus Michael: " Doubt not but that 
 Will reign among them, as of thee begot; [sin 
 And therefore was law given them, to evince 
 Their natural pravity, by stirring up 
 Sin against law to fight; that when they see 
 Law can discover sin, but not remove, 
 Save by those shadowy expectations weak, 
 The blood of bulls and goats, they may conclude 
 Some blood more precious must be paid for man; 
 Just for unjust; that in such righteousness 
 To them by faith imputed, they may find 
 Justification towards God, and peace 
 Of conscience; which the law by ceremonies 
 Cannot appease; nor man the moral part 
 Perform; and, not performing, cannot live. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 369 
 
 So law appears imperfect; and but given 
 
 With purpose to resign them, in full time, 
 
 Up to a better covenant; disciplined 
 
 From shadowy types to truth; from flesh to spirit; 
 
 From imposition of strict laws to free 
 
 Acceptance of large grace; from servile fear 
 
 To filial; works of law to works of faith. 
 
 And therefore shall not Moses, though of God 
 
 Highly beloved, being but the minister 
 
 Of law, his people into Canaan lead; 
 
 But Joshua, whom the Gentiles Jesus call, 
 
 His name and office bearing, who shall quell 
 
 The adversary-serpent, and bring back 
 
 Through the world's wilderness long-wander'd 
 
 Safe to eternal Paradise of rest. [man 
 
 Meanwhile they, in their earthly Canaan placed, 
 
 Long time shall dwell and prosper, but when sins 
 
 National interrupt their public peace, 
 
 Provoking God to raise them enemies; 
 
 From whom as oft he saves them penitent 
 
 By judges first, then under kings; of whom 
 
 The second, both for piety renown'd 
 
 And puissant deeds, a promise shall receive 
 
 Irrevocable, that his regal throne 
 
 For ever shall endure; the like shall sing 
 
 All prophecy, that of the royal stock 
 
 Of David (so I name this king) shall rise 
 
 A son, the woman's seed to thee foretold, 
 
 Foretold to Abraham, as in whom shall trust 
 
 All nations; and to kings foretold, of kings 
 
 The last : for of his reign shall be no end. 
 
 2 A 
 
370 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 But first, a long succession must ensue; 
 
 And his next son, for wealth and wisdom famed, 
 
 The clouded ark of God, till then in tents 
 
 Wandering, shall in a glorious temple enshrine. 
 
 iSuch follow him as shall be register'd 
 
 Part good, part bad; of bad the longer scroll: 
 
 Whose foul idolatries and other faults, 
 
 Heap'd to the popular sum, will so incense 
 
 God, as to leave them, and expose their land, 
 
 Their city, his temple, and his holy ark, 
 
 With all his sacred things, a scorn and prey 
 
 To that proud city, whose high walls thou saw'st 
 
 Left in confusion; Babylon thence call'd. 
 
 There in captivity he lets them dwell 
 
 The space of seventy years; then brings them back, 
 
 Remembering mercy, and his covenant sworn 
 
 To David, stablish'd as the days of heaven. 
 
 Return'd from Babylon by leave of kings 
 
 Their lords, whom God disposed, the house of God 
 
 They first re-edify; and for a while 
 
 In mean estate live moderate; till, grown 
 
 In wealth and multitude, factious they grow: 
 
 But first among the priests dissention springs, 
 
 Men who attend the altar, and should most 
 
 Endeavour peace: their strife pollution brings 
 
 Upon the temple itself: at last, they seize 
 
 The sceptre, and regard not David's sons; 
 
 Then lose it to a stranger, that the true 
 
 Anointed King Messiah might be born 
 
 Barr'd of his right; yet at his birth a star, 
 
 Unseen before in heaven, proclaims him come; 
 
PARADISE LOST. 37 
 
 And guides the eastern sages, who inquire 
 
 His place, to offer incense, myrrh, and gold,- 
 
 His place of birth a solemn angel tells 
 
 To simple shepherds, keeping watch by night; 
 
 They gladly thither haste, and by a quire 
 
 Of squadroned angels hear his carol sung. 
 
 A virgin is his mother, but his sire 
 
 The power of the Most High: he shall ascend 
 
 The throne hereditary, and bound his reign 
 
 With earth's wide bounds, his glory with the hea- 
 
 He ceased; discerning Adam with such joy [vens." 
 
 Surcharged, as had like grief been dew'd in tears, 
 
 Without the vent of words; which these he breath'd : 
 
 " prophet of glad tidings, finisher 
 Of utmost hope; now clear I understand 
 What oft my steadiest thoughts have search'd in 
 Why our great Expectation should be call'd [vain ; 
 The seed of woman: virgin mother, hail, 
 High in the love of Heaven; yet from my loins 
 Thou shalt proceed, and from thy womb the Son 
 Of God Most High; so God with man unites. 
 Needs must the serpent now his capital bruise 
 Expect with mortal pain: say where and when 
 Their fight, what stroke shall bruise the victor's 
 heel?" 
 
 To whom thus Michael: " Dream not of their 
 As of a duel, or the local wounds [fight. 
 
 Of head or heel: not therefore joins the Son 
 Manhood to Godhead, with more strength to foil 
 Thy enemy; nor so is overcome 
 Satan, whose fall from heaven, a deadlier bruise, 
 
372 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Disabled not to give thee thy death's-wound: 
 
 Which he, who comes thy Saviour, shall re-cure. 
 
 Not by destroying Satan, but his works 
 
 In thee, and in thy seed: nor can this be, 
 
 But by fulfilling that which thou didst want, 
 
 Obedience to the law of God, imposed 
 
 On penalty of death; and suffering death, 
 
 The penalty to thy transgression due, 
 
 And due to theirs which out of thine will grow: 
 
 So only can high justice rest appaid. 
 
 The law of God exact he shall fulfil 
 
 Both by obedience and by love, though love 
 
 Alone fulfil the law; thy punishment 
 
 He shall endure, by coming in the flesh 
 
 To a reproachful life and cursed death; 
 
 Proclaiming life to all who shall believe 
 
 In his redemption; and that this obedience, 
 
 Imputed, becomes theirs by faith; his merits 
 
 To save them, not their own, though legal, works. 
 
 For this he shall live hated, be blasphemed, 
 
 Seiz'd on by force, judged, and to death condemn'd 
 
 A shameful and accursed, nail'd to the cross 
 
 By his own nation; slain for bringing life: 
 
 But to the cross he nails thy enemies, 
 
 The law that is against thee, and the sins 
 
 Of all mankind, with him there crucified, 
 
 Never to hurt them more who rightly trust 
 
 In this his satisfaction: so he dies, 
 
 But soon revives; death over him no power 
 
 Shall long usurp; ere the third dawning light 
 
 Return, the stars of morn shall see him rise 
 
PARADISE LOST. 373 
 
 Out of his grave, fresh as the dawning light, 
 Thy ransom paid, which man from death redeems, 
 His death for man, as many as offer'd life 
 Neglect not, and the benefit embrace 
 By faith not void of works: this God-like act 
 Annuls thy doom, the death thou should'st have 
 In sin for ever lost from life; this act [died, 
 
 Shall bruise the head of Satan, crush his strength, 
 Defeating Sin and Death, his two main arms; 
 And fix far deeper in his head their stings 
 Than temporal death shall bruise the victor's heel, 
 Or theirs whom he redeems; a death, like sleep, 
 A gentle wafting to immortal life. 
 Nor after resurrection shall he stay 
 Longer on earth, than certain times to appear 
 To his disciples, men who in his life 
 Still follow'd him; to them shall leave in charge 
 To teach all nations what of him they learn'd 
 And his salvation: them who shall believe 
 Baptizing in the profluent stream, the sign 
 Of washing them from guilt of sin to life 
 Pure, and in mind prepared, if so befall, 
 For death, like that which the Redeemer died. 
 All nations they shall teach; for, from that day, 
 Not only to the sons of Abraham's loins 
 Salvation shall be preach'd, but to the sons 
 Of Abraham's faith wherever through the world; 
 So in his seed all nations shall be bless'd. 
 Then to the heaven of heavens he shall ascend 
 With victory, triumphing through the air 
 Over his foes and thine; there shall surprise 
 
/74 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 The serpent, prince of air, and drag in chains 
 Through all his realm, and there confounded leave: 
 Then enter into glory, and resume 
 His seat at God's right hand, exalted high 
 Above all names in heaven; and thence shall come, 
 When this world's dissolution shall be ripe, [dead; 
 With glory and power to judge both quick and 
 To judge the unfaithful dead, but to reward 
 His faithful, and receive them into bliss, 
 Whether in heaven or earth; for then the earth 
 Shall all be Paradise, far happier place 
 Than this of Eden, and far happier days." 
 
 So spake the archangel Michael; then paused, 
 As at the world's great period; and our sire, 
 Replete with joy and wonder, thus replied: 
 
 " goodness infinite, goodness immense ! 
 That all this good of evil shall produce, 
 And evil turn to good; more wonderful 
 Than that, which by creation first brought forth 
 Light out of darkness ! Full of doubt I stand, 
 Whether I should repent me now of sin, 
 By me done and occasioned, or rejoice [spring, 
 Much more, that much more good thereof shall 
 To God more glory, more good-will to men 
 From God, and over wrath grace shall abound. 
 But say, if our Deliverer up to heaven 
 Must reascend, what will betide the few, 
 His faithful, left among the unfaithful herd, 
 The enemies of truth"? Who then shall guide 
 Plis people, who defend? Will they not deal 
 Worse with his followers than with him they dealt]" 
 
PARADISE LOST. 375 
 
 "Be sure they will, said the angel; "but from 
 He to his own a Comforter will send, [heaven 
 The promise of the Father, who shall dwell 
 His Spirit within them; and the law of faith, 
 Working through love, upon their hearts shall 
 To guide them in all truth; and also arm [write, 
 With spiritual armour, able to resist 
 Satan's assaults, and quench his fiery darts; 
 What man can do against them, not afraid, 
 Though to the death: against such cruelties 
 With inward consolations recompensed, 
 And oft supported so as shall amaze 
 Their proudest persecutors; for the Spirit, 
 Pour'd first on his apostles, whom he sends 
 To evangelize the nations, then on all 
 Baptized, shall them with wondrous gifts endue 
 To speak all tongues, and do all miracles, 
 As did their Lord before them. Thus they win 
 Great numbers of each nation to receive [length, 
 With joy the tidings brought from heaven; at 
 Their ministry performed, and race well run, 
 Their doctrine and their story written left, 
 They die; but in their room, as they forewarn, 
 Wolves shall succeed for teachers, grievous wolves, 
 Who all the sacred mysteries of Heaven 
 To their own vile advantages shall turn 
 Of lucre and ambition; and the truth 
 With superstitions and traditions taint, 
 Left only in those written records pure, 
 Though not but by the Spirit understood. 
 Then shall they seek to avail themselves of names. 
 
376 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Places, and titles, and with these to join 
 
 Secular power; though feigning still to act 
 
 By spiritual, to themselves appropriating 
 
 The Spirit of God; promised alike, and given 
 
 To all believers; and, from that pretence, 
 
 Spiritual laws by carnal power shall force 
 
 On every conscience; laws, which none shall find 
 
 Left them enroll'd, or what the Spirit within 
 
 Shall on the heart engrave. What will they then 
 
 But force: the Spirit of grace itself, and bind 
 
 His consort Liberty? what but unbuild 
 
 His living temples, built by faith to stand, 
 
 Their own faith, not another's? for on earth 
 
 Who against faith and conscience can be heard 
 
 Infallible? yet many will presume: 
 
 Whence heavy persecution shall arise 
 
 On all, who in the worship persevere 
 
 Of spirit and truth; the rest, far greater part, 
 
 Will deem in outward rites and specious forms 
 
 Religion satisfied; truth shall retire 
 
 Bestuck with slanderous darts, and works of faith 
 
 Rarely be;found; so shall the world go on, 
 
 To good malignant, to bad men benign; 
 
 Under her own weight groaning; till the day 
 
 Appear of resperation to the just, 
 
 And vengeance to the wicked, at return 
 
 Of him so lately promised to thy aid, 
 
 The woman's seed; obscurely then foretold, 
 
 Now amplier known thy Saviour and thy Lord: 
 
 Last, in the clouds, from heaven to be reveal'd 
 
 In glory of the Father, to dissolve 
 
PARADISE LOST. 377 
 
 Satan with his perverted world; then raise 
 From the conflagrant mass, purged and refined, 
 New heavens, new earth, ages of endless date, 
 Founded in righteousness, and peace, and love; 
 To bring forth fruits, joy and eternal bliss." 
 
 He ended; and thus Adam last replied: 
 " How soon hath thy prediction, seer blest, 
 Measured this transient world, the race of time, 
 Till time stand fix'd! Beyond is all abyss, 
 Eternity, whose end no eye can reach. 
 Greatly instructed I shall hence depart, 
 Greatly in peace of thought, and have my fill 
 Of knowledge, what this vessel can contain; 
 Beyond which was my folly to aspire. 
 Henceforth I learn, that to obey is best, 
 And love with fear the only God; to walk 
 As in his presence, ever to observe 
 His providence, and on him sole depend, 
 Merciful over all his works, with good 
 Still overcoming evil, and by small 
 Accomplishing great things, by things deem'd weak 
 Subverting worldly strong, and worldly wise 
 By simply meek: that suffering for truth's sake 
 Is fortitude to highest victory; 
 And, to the faithful, death the gate of life; 
 Taught this by his example, whom I now 
 Acknowledge my Redeemer ever blest." 
 
 To whom thus also the angel last replied: 
 " This having learn'd, thou hast attain'd the sum 
 Of wisdom: hope no higher, though all the stars 
 Thou knew'st by name, and all the ethereal powers, 
 
378 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 All secrets of the deep, all Nature's works, 
 
 Or works of God in heaven, air, earth, or sea, 
 
 And all the riches of this world enjoy'dst, 
 
 And all the rule, one empire: only add 
 
 Deeds to thy knowledge answerable; add faith, 
 
 Add virtue, patience, temperance; add love, 
 
 By name to come call'd charity, the soul 
 
 Of all the rest: then wilt thou not be loath 
 
 To leave this Paradise, but shalt possess 
 
 A paradise within thee, happier far. 
 
 Let us descend now therefore from this top 
 
 Of speculation; for the hour precise 
 
 Exacts our parting hence; and, see ! the guards, 
 
 By me encamp' d on yonder hill, expect 
 
 Their motion; at whose front a flaming sword, 
 
 * D 
 
 In signal of remove, waves fiercely round. 
 We may no longer stay; go, waken Eve; 
 Her also I with gentle dreams have calm'd, 
 Portending good, and all her spirits composed 
 To meek submission: thou, at season fit, 
 Let her with thee partake what thou hast heard; 
 Chiefly, what may concern her faith to know, 
 The great deliverance by her seed to come 
 (For by the woman's seed) on all mankind; 
 That ye may live, which will be many days, 
 Both in one faith unanimous, though sad, 
 With cause, for evils past; yet much more cheer d 
 With meditation on the happy end." 
 
 He ended, and they both descend the hill: 
 Descended, Adam to the bower, where Eve 
 Lay sleeping, ran before; but found her waked: 
 
PARADISE LOST. 379 
 
 And thus with words not sad she him received: 
 
 " Whence thou return'st, and whither went'st I 
 For God is also in sleep; and dreams advise, [know; 
 Which he hath sent propitious, some great good 
 Presaging, since with sorrow and heart's distress 
 Wearied I fell asleep: but now lead on; 
 In me is no delay; with thee to go, 
 Is to stay here; without thee here to stay, 
 Is to go hence unwilling: thou to me 
 Art all things under heaven, all places thou, 
 Who for my wilful crime art banish'd hence. 
 This further consolation, yet secure, 
 I carry hence; though all by me is lost, 
 Such favour I unworthy am vouchsafed, 
 By me the promised Seed shall all restore." 
 
 So spake our mother Eve, and Adam heard 
 Well pleased, but answered not: for now, too nigh 
 The archangel stood; and from the other hill 
 To their fix'd station, all in bright array 
 The cherubim descended; on the ground 
 Gliding meteorous, as evening mist 
 Risen from a river o'er the marish glides, 
 And gathers ground fast at the labourer's heel 
 Homeward returning. High in front advanced, 
 The brandish'd sword of God before them Mazed, 
 Fierce as a comet; which with torrid heat, 
 And vapour as the Lybian air adust, 
 Began to parch that temperate clime: whereat, 
 In either hand the hastening angel caught 
 Our lingering parents, and to the eastern gate 
 Led them direct, and down the cliff as fast 
 
380 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 To the subjected plain; then disappear'd. 
 They, looking back, all the eastern side beheld 
 Of Paradise, so late their happy seat, 
 Waved over by that flaming brand; the gate 
 With dreadful faces throng'd, and fiery arms, [soon : 
 Some natural tears they dropp'd, but wiped them 
 The world was all before them, where to choose 
 Their place of rest, and Providence their guide. 
 They, hand in hand, with wandering steps and 
 Through Eden took their solitary way. [slow, 
 
 THE END OF PARADISE LOST. 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The subject proposed. Invocation of the Holy Spirit. The 
 poem opens with John baptizing at the river Jordan: Jesus, 
 coming there, is baptized; and is attested by the descent of the 
 Holy Ghost, and by a voice from heaven, to be the Son of 
 God. Satan, who is present, upon this immediately flies up 
 into the regions of the air; where, summoning his infernal 
 council, he acquaints them with his apprehensions that Jesus 
 is that seed of the woman, destined to destroy all their power; 
 and points out to them the immediate necessity of bringing 
 the matter to proof, and of attempting, by snares and fraud, 
 to counteract and defeat the person from whom they have so 
 much to dread: this office he offers himself to undertake; 
 and, his offer being accepted, sets out on his enterprise. In 
 the mean time, God, in the assembly of holy angels, declares 
 that he has given up his Son to be tempted by Satan; but 
 foretells that the tempter shall be completely debated by him: 
 upon which the angel* sing a hymn of triumph. Jesus is 
 led up by the Spirit into the wilderness, while he is medita- 
 ting on the commencement of his great office of Saviour of 
 mankind. Pursuing his meditations, he narrates, in a so- 
 liloquy, what divine and philanthropic impulses he had felt 
 from his early youth, and how his mother, Mary, on per- 
 ceiving these dispositions in him, had acquainted him with 
 the circumstances 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 con- 
 firmation 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, wondering what could have 
 brought him alone into so dangerous a place, and at the same 
 time professing to recognise him for the person lately acknow- 
 ledged 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 wilderness; and en- 
 treats Jesus, if he be really the Son of God, to manifest his 
 divine power, by changing some of the stones into bread. 
 Jesus reproves him, and at the same 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, wiih much semblance of humility, still 
 endeavours to justify himself; and, professing his admira- 
 tion of Jesus and his regard for virtue, requests to be per- 
 mitted at a future time to hear more of his conversation: but 
 is answered, that this must be as he shall find permission 
 from above. Satan then disappears, and the book clones 
 wdh a short description of night coming on in the desert. 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 I, WHO erewhile the happy garden sung 
 By one man's disobedience lost, now sing 
 Recover'd Paradise to all mankind, 
 By one man's firm obedience fully tried 
 Through all temptation, and the tempter foil'd 
 In all his wiles, defeated and repulsed, 
 And Eden raised in the waste wilderness. 
 
 Thou Spirit, who led'st this glorious Eremite 
 Into the desert, his victorious field, [thence 
 
 Against the spiritual foe, and brought'st him 
 By proof the undoubted Son of God, inspire, 
 As'thou art wont, my prompted song, else mute; 
 And bear, through height or depth of nature's 
 
 bounds, 
 
 With prosperous wing full summ'd, to tell of deeds 
 Above heroic, though in secret done, 
 And unrecorded left through many an age; 
 Worthy to have not remained so long unsung. 
 
 Now had the great proclaimer, with a voice 
 More awful than the sound of trumpet, cried 
 Repentance, and heaven's kingdom nigh at hand 
 
384 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 To all baptized: to his great baptism flock'd 
 With awe the regions round, and with them came 
 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 baptized 
 Heaven open'd, and in likeness of a dove 
 The Spirit descended, while the Father's voice 
 From heaven pronounced him his beloved Son. 
 That heard the adversary, who, roving still 
 About the world, at that assembly famed 
 Would not be last; and, with the voice divine 
 Nigh thunder-struck, the exalted man to whom 
 Such high attest was given, a while surveyed 
 With wonder; then, with envy fraught and rage, 
 Flies to his place, nor rests, but in mid air 
 To council summons all his mighty peers, 
 Within thick clouds and dark tenfold involved, 
 A gloomy consistory; and them amidst, 
 With looks aghast and sad, he thus bespake: 
 
 " 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 ruled, 
 In manner at our will, the affairs of earth, 
 Since Adam and his facile consort Eve 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 385 
 
 Lost Paradise, deceived 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 wound, 
 At least, if so we can; and, by the head 
 Broken, be not intended all our power 
 To be infringed, our freedom and our being, 
 In this fair empire won of earth and air: 
 For this ill news I bring; the woman's Seed, 
 Destined 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, display- 
 All virtue, grace, and wisdom, to achieve [ing 
 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 baptized; 
 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 
 
 2B 
 
386 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 A perfect dove descend, (whate'er it meant,) 
 
 And out of heaven the sovereign voice I heard, 
 
 ' This is my Son beloved, in him am pleased.' 
 
 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 opposed, 
 
 (Not force, but well-couch'd fraud, well woven 
 
 Ere in the head of nations he appear, [snares,) 
 
 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 once, 
 
 Induces best to hope of like success." 
 
 He ended, and his words impression left 
 Of much amazement to the infernal crew, 
 Distracted and surprised 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 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 387 
 
 At first against mankind so well had thrived 
 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 raised 
 To end his reign on earth, so long enjoy'd: 
 But, contrary, unweeting he fulfill'd 
 The purposed counsel, preordain'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 things could 
 To her a virgin, that on her should come [be 
 The Holy Ghost, and the power of the Highest 
 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 
 
 
 
388 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 And vaunts of his great cunning to the throng 
 
 Of his apostasy: he might have learn'd 
 
 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 surprised. 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 moved, 
 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! 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 389 
 
 The Father knows the Son; therefore secure 
 
 Ventures his filial virtue, though untried, 
 
 Against what'eer may tempt, what'eer seduce, 
 
 Allure, or terrify, or undermine. 
 
 Be frustrate, all ye stratagems of hell; 
 
 And, devilish machinations, come to nought!'' 
 
 So they in heaven their odes and vigils tuned: 
 Meanwhile the Son of God, who yet some days 
 Lodged in Bethabara, where John baptized, 
 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 Godlike 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, [on, 
 Thought following thought, and step by step led 
 He enter'd now the bordering desert wild, 
 And, with dark shades and rocks environ'd round, 
 His holy meditations thus pursued: 
 
 " 0, what a multitude of thoughts at once 
 Awaken'd in me swarm, while I consider 
 What from within I feel myself, and hear 
 What from without comes often to my ears, 
 111 sorting with my present state compared! 
 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, 
 
390 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 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 nay age 
 
 Had measured twice six years, at our great feast 
 
 I went into the temple, there to hear 
 
 The teachers of our law, and to propose 
 
 What might improve my knowledge or their own; 
 
 And was admired by all: yet this not all 
 
 To which my spirit aspired; victorious deeds 
 
 Flamed in my heart, heroic acts; one while 
 
 To rescue Israel from Roman yoke: 
 
 Then to subdue and quell, o'er all the earth, 
 
 Brute violence and proud tyrannic power, 
 
 Till truth were freed, and equity restored: 
 
 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. [i n g? 
 
 These growing thoughts my mother soon perceiv- 
 
 By words at times cast forth, inly rejoiced, 
 
 And said to me apart: 'High are thy thoughts, 
 
 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 : 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 391 
 
 A messenger from Uod foretold thy birth 
 
 Conceived in me a virgin; he foretold 
 
 Thou shouldst be great, and sit on David's throne. 
 
 And of thy kingdom there should be no end. 
 
 At thy nativity, a glorious quire 
 
 Of angels, in the field of Bethlehem, sung 
 
 To shepherds, watching at their folds by night, 
 
 And told the Messiah was now born, 
 
 Where they might see him, and to thee they came, 
 
 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 thee 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 revolved 
 
 The law and prophets, searching what was writ 
 
 Concerning the Messiah, to our scribes 
 
 Known partly, and soon found, of whom they spake, 
 
 I am; this chiefly, that my way must lie 
 
 Through many a hard assay, e'en to the death, 
 
 Ere I the promised kingdom can attain, 
 
 Or work redemption for mankind, whose sins' 
 
 Full weight must be transferred upon my head. 
 
 Yet, neither thus dishearten'd nor dismay'd, 
 
392 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 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 come 
 Before Messiah, and his way prepare ! 
 I, as all others, to his baptism came, 
 Which I believed was from above; but he [claim'd 
 Straight knew me, and with loudest voice pro- 
 Me him, (for it was shown him so from heaven,) 
 Me him, whose harbinger he was; and first 
 Refused on me his baptism to confer, 
 As much his greater, and was hardly won: 
 But, as I rose out of the laving stream, 
 Heaven open'd 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 pleased: 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 derived 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 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 393 
 
 Accompanied of things past and to come 
 Lodged 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; hungered 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 glared 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 
 Perused him, then with words thus utter'd spake: 
 " Sir, what ill chance hath brought thee to this 
 So far from path or road of men, who pass [place 
 In troop or caravan? for single none 
 Durst ever, who return'd, and dropp'd not here 
 His carcass, pined with hunger and with drought. 
 I ask the rather, and the more admire, 
 For that 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 
 
394 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Who dwell this wild, constrained by want, come 
 To town or village nigh, (nighest is far ; ) [forth 
 Where aught we hear, and curious are to hear 
 What happens new; fame also finds us out." [hither 
 
 To whom the Son of God : " Who brought me 
 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 inured 
 More than the camel, and to drink go far, 
 Men to much misery and hardship born: 
 But, if thou be the Son of God, command 
 That out of these hard stones be made thee bread. 
 So shalt thou save thyself, and us relieve 
 With food, whereof we wretched seldom taste." 
 
 He ended, and the Son of God replied: 
 " Think'st thou such force in bread? Is it not writ- 
 (For I discern thee other than thou seem'st,) [ten, 
 Man lives not by bread only, but each word 
 Proceeding from the mouth of God; who fed 
 Our fathers here with manna; in the mount 
 Moses was forty dys, nor eat, nor drank; 
 And forty days Elijah, without food, 
 Wander' d this barren waste; the same T now: 
 Why dost thou then suggest to me distrust, 
 Knowing who I am, as I know who thou art?" 
 
 Whom thus answer' d the arch-fiend, now undis- 
 ; "Tis true T am that spirit unfortunate, [guised: 
 Who, leagued with millions more in rash revolt, 
 Kept not my happy station, but was driven 
 With them from bliss to the bottomless deep; 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 395 
 
 Yet to that hideous place not so confined 
 
 By rigour unconniving, but that oft, 
 
 Leaving my dolorous prison, I enjoy 
 
 Large liberty to round this globe of earth. 
 
 Or range in the air; nor from the heaven of heavens 
 
 Hath he excluded my resort sometimes. 
 
 I came among the sons of God, when he 
 
 Gave up into my hands Uzzean Job, 
 
 To prove him, and illustrate his high worth; 
 
 And when to all his angels he proposed 
 
 To draw the proud king Ahab into fraud, 
 
 That he might fall in Ramoth, they demurring, 
 
 I undertook that office, and the tongues 
 
 Of all his flattering prophets glibb'd with lies, 
 
 To his destruction, as I had in charge. 
 
 For what he bids I do: though I have lost 
 
 Much lustre of my native brightness, lost 
 
 To be beloved of God; I have not lost 
 
 To love, at least contemplate and admire 
 
 What I see excellent in good, or fair, 
 
 Or virtuous; I should so have lost all sense. 
 
 What can be then less in me than desire 
 
 To see thee, and approach thee, whom I know 
 
 Declared the Son of God, to hear attent 
 
 Thy wisdom, and behold thy Godlike deeds? 
 
 Men generally think me much a foe 
 
 To all mankind: why should II they to me 
 
 Never did wrong or violence; by them 
 
 I lost not what I lost; rather, by them 
 
 I gain'd what I have gain'd, and with them dwell 
 
 Co- partner in these regions of the world, 
 
396 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 If not disposer; lend them oft my aid, 
 
 Oft my advice, by presages and signs, 
 
 And answers, oracles, portents, and dreams, 
 
 Whereby they may direct their future life. 
 
 Envy they say excites me, thus to gain 
 
 Companions of my misery and woe. 
 
 At first it may be; but long since with woe 
 
 Nearer acquainted, now I feel by proof, 
 
 That fellowship in pain divides not smart, 
 
 Nor lightens aught each man's peculiar load. 
 
 Small consolation then, were man adjoin'd: 
 
 This wounds me most, (what can it less?) that man, 
 
 Man fallen shall be restored, I never more." 
 
 To whom our Saviour sternly thus replied: 
 u Deservedly thou griev'st, composed of lies 
 From the beginning, and in lies wilt end; 
 Who boast'st release from hell, and leave to come 
 Into the heaven of heavens: thou comest indeed 
 As a poor miserable captive thrall 
 Comes to the place where he before had sat 
 Among the prime in splendour; now deposed, 
 Ejected, emptied, gazed, unpitied, shunn'd, 
 A spectacle of ruin, or of scorn, 
 To all the host of heaven : the happy place 
 Imparts to thee no happiness, no joy; 
 Rather inflames thy torment, representing 
 Lost bliss, to thee no more communicable, 
 So never more in hell than when in heaven. 
 But thou art serviceable to heaven's King. 
 Wilt thou impute to obedience what thy fear 
 Extorts, or pleasure to do ill excites? 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 397 
 
 What but thy malice moved thee to misdeem 
 
 Of righteous Job, then cruelly to afflict him 
 
 With all inflictions? but his patience won. 
 
 The other service was thy chosen task, 
 
 To be a liar in four hundred mouths; 
 
 For lying is thy sustenance, thy food. 
 
 Yet thou pretend'st to truth; all oracles 
 
 By thee are given, and what confess'd more true 
 
 Among the nations? that hath been thy craft, 
 
 By mixing somewhat true, to vent more lies. 
 
 But what have been thy answers? what but dark 
 
 Ambiguous, and with double sense deluding, 
 
 Which they who ask'd have seldom understood; 
 
 And not well understood, as good not known? 
 
 Who ever by consulting at thy shrine 
 
 Return'd the wiser, or the more instruct, 
 
 To fly or follow what concerned him most, 
 
 And run not sooner to his fatal snare? 
 
 For God hath justly given the nations up 
 
 To thy delusions; justly since they fell 
 
 Idolatrous: but, when his purpose is 
 
 Among them to declare his Providence [truth, 
 
 To thee not known, whence hast thou then thy 
 
 But from him, or his angels president 
 
 In every province, who, themselves disdaining 
 
 To approach thy temples, give thee in command 
 
 What to the smallest tittle thou shalt say 
 
 To thy adorers? Thou, with trembling fear, 
 
 Or like a fawning parasite, obey'st: 
 
 Then to thyself ascrib'st the truth foretold. 
 
 But this thy glory shall be soon retrenched; 
 
398 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 No more shalt thou by oracling abuse 
 
 The Gentiles; henceforth oracles are ceas'd, 
 
 And thou no more with pomp and sacrifice 
 
 Shalt be inquir'd at Delphos, or elsewhere; 
 
 At least in vain, for they shall find thee mute. 
 
 God hath now sent his living oracle 
 
 Into the world to teach his final will; 
 
 And sends his Spirit of truth henceforth to dwell 
 
 In pious hearts, an inward oracle 
 
 To all truth requisite for men to know." 
 
 So spake our Saviour, but the subtle fiend, 
 Though inly stung with anger and disdain, 
 Dissembled, and this answer smooth return'd: 
 " Sharply thou hast insisted on rebuke, 
 And urg'd me hard with doings, which not will 
 But misery hath wrested from me. Where 
 Easily canst thou find one miserable, 
 And not enforced ofttimes to part from truth, 
 If it may stand him more in stead to lie, 
 Say and unsay, feign, flatter, or abjure? 
 But thou art placed above me, thou art Lord; 
 From thee I can, and must, submiss, endure 
 Check or reproof, and glad to 'scape so quit. 
 Hard are the ways of truth, and rough to walk, 
 Smooth on the tongue discours'd, pleasing to the 
 And tuneable as sylvan pipe or song: [ear, 
 
 What wonder then if I delight to hear 
 Her dictates from thy mouth? Most men admire 
 Virtue, who follow not her lore: permit me 
 To hear thee when I come, (since no man comes,) 
 And talk at least, though I despair to attain. 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 399 
 
 Thy Father, who is holy, wise, and pure, 
 Suffers the hypocrite or atheous priest 
 To tread his sacred courts, and minister 
 About his altar, handling holy things, 
 Praying or vowing; and vouchsafed his voice 
 To Balaam reprobate, a prophet yet 
 Inspired: disdain not such access to me." 
 
 To whom our Saviour, with unalter'd brow: 
 " Thy coming hither, though 1 know thy scope, 
 I bid not, or forbid; do as thou find'st 
 Permission from above; thou canst not more." 
 
 He added not; and Satan, bowing low 
 His gray dissimulation, disappear'd 
 Into thin air diffus'd: for now began 
 Night with her sullen wing to double shade 
 The desert; fowls in their clay nests were couch'd; 
 And now wild beasts came forth the woods to 
 roam. 
 
 OF BOOK i. 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 2C 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The disciples of Jesus, uneasy at his long absence, reason 
 amongst themselves concerning it. Mary also gives vent to 
 her maternal anxiety, in the expression of which she reca- 
 pitulates many circumstances respecting the birth and early 
 life of her Son. Satan again meets his infernal council, 
 reports the bad success of his first temptation of our blessed 
 Lord, and calls upon them for counsel and assistance. Be- 
 lial proposes the tempting of Jesus with women. Satan re- 
 bukes him for his dissoluteness, charging on him all the 
 profligacy of that kind ascribed by the poets to the heathen 
 gods, and rejects his proposal as in no respect likely to suc- 
 ceed. Satan then suggests other modes of temptation, par- 
 ticularly proposing to avail himself of the circumstance of 
 our Lord's hungering ; and, taking a band of chosen 
 spirits with him, returns to resume his enterprise. Jesus 
 hungers in the desert. Night comes on; the manner in which 
 our Saviour passes the night is described. Morning advan- 
 ces. Satan again appears to Jesus; and, after expressing 
 wonder that he should be so entirely neglected in the wilder- 
 ness, where others had been miraculously fed, tempts him 
 with a sumptuous banquet of the most luxurious kind. This 
 
 he rejects, and the banquet vanishes Satan, finding our 
 
 Lord not to be assailed on the ground of appetite, tempts 
 him by offering him riches, as the means of acquiring power; 
 this Jesus also rejects, producing many instances of great 
 actions performed by persons under virtuous poverty, and 
 specifying the danger of riches, and the cares and pains in- 
 separable from power and greatness. 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 MEANWHILE the new baptiz'd, who yet remain'd 
 At Jordan with the Baptist, and had seen 
 Him whom they heard so late expressly call'd 
 Jesus, Messiah, Son of God declar'd, 
 And on that high authority had believ'd. 
 And with him talk'd, and with him lodg'd; I mean 
 Andrew and Simon, famous after known, 
 With others though in Holy Writ not nam'd: 
 Now missing him, their joy so lately found, 
 (So lately found, and so abruptly gone,) 
 Began to doubt, and doubted many days, 
 And, as the days increas'd, increas'd their doubt. 
 Sometimes they thought he might be only shown, 
 And for a time caught up to God, as once 
 Moses was in the mount and missing long; 
 And the great Thisbite, who on fiery wheels 
 Rode up to heaven, yet once again to come. 
 Therefore, as those young prophets then with care 
 Sought lost Elijah; so in each place these 
 Nigh to Bethabara, in Jericho 
 The city of palms, Muon } and Salem old, 
 
404 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Machserus, and each town or city wall'd 
 On this side the broad lake Gennesaret, 
 Or in Persea; but return'd in vain. 
 Then on the bank of Jordan, by a creek, 
 Where winds with reeds and osiers whispering play, 
 Plain fishermen, (no greater men them call), 
 Close in a cottage low together got, 
 Their unexpected loss and plaints out breathed: 
 " Alas ! from what high hope to what relapse 
 Unlook'd for are we fall'n ! our eyes beheld 
 Messiah certainly now come, so long 
 Expected of our fathers; we have heard 
 His words, his wisdom full of grace and truth : 
 Now, now, for sure, deliverance is at hand; 
 The kingdom shall to Israel be restor'd: 
 Thus we rejoic'd, but soon our joy is turn'd 
 Into perplexity and new amaze: 
 For whither is he gone? what accident 
 Hath rapt him from us 1 ? will he now retire 
 After appearance, and again prolong 
 Our expectation 1 God of Israel, 
 Send thy Messiah forth; the time is come! 
 Behold the kings of the earth, how they oppress 
 Thy chosen; to what height their power unjust 
 They have exalted, and behind them cast 
 All fear of thee: arise, and vindicate 
 Thy glory; free thy people from their yoke ! 
 But let us wait; thus far he hath perform'd, 
 Sent his Anointed, and to us reveal'd him, 
 By his great Prophet, pointed at and shown 
 In public, and with him we have conversed: 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 405 
 
 Let us be glad of this, and all our fears 
 
 Lay on his providence; he will not fail, 
 
 Nor will withdraw him now, nor will recall, [hence: 
 
 Mock us with his blest sight, then snatch him 
 
 Soon we shall see our Hope, our Joy, return." 
 
 Thus they, out of their plaints, new hope resume 
 To find whom at the first they found unsought: 
 But, to his mother Mary, when she saw 
 Others return'd from baptism, not her Son, 
 Nor left at Jordan, tidings of him none; [pure, 
 Within her breast though calm, her breast though 
 Motherly cares and fears got head, and rais'd 
 Some troubled thoughts, which she in sighs thus 
 
 " what avails me now that honour high [clad: 
 To have conceiv'd of God, or that salute, 
 1 Hail highly favoured, among women bless' d !' 
 While I to sorrows am no less advanc'd, 
 And fears as eminent, above the lot 
 Of other women, by the birth I bore; 
 In such a season born, when scarce a shed 
 Could be obtained to shelter him or me 
 From the bleak air; a stable was our warmth, 
 A manger his; yet soon enforc'd to fly 
 Thence into Egypt, till the murderous king 
 Were dead, who sought his life, and missing fillVl 
 With infant blood the streets of Bethlehem; 
 From Egypt home return'd, in Nazareth 
 Hath been our dwelling many years; his life 
 Private, inactive, calm, contemplative, 
 Little suspicious to any king; but now, 
 Full grown to man, acknowledg'd, as I hear, 
 
406 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 By John the Baptist, and in public shown, 
 
 Son own'd from heaven by his Father's voice, 
 
 I look'd for some great change; to honour? no; 
 
 But trouble, as old Simeon plain foretold, 
 
 That to the fall and rising he should be 
 
 Of many in Israel, and to a sign 
 
 Spoken against, that through my very soul 
 
 A sword shall pierce: this is my favour'd lot, 
 
 My exaltation to afflictions high: 
 
 Afflicted I may be, it seems, and bless'd; 
 
 I will not argue that, nor will repine. 
 
 But where delays he now? some great intent 
 
 Conceals him: when twelve years he scarce had 
 
 I lost him, but so found, as well I saw [seen 
 
 He could not lose himself, but went about 
 
 His Father's business: what he meant I mus'd, 
 
 Since understand; much more his absence now 
 
 Thus long to some great purpose he obscures. 
 
 But I to wait with patience am inur'd; 
 
 My heart hath been a store-house long of things 
 
 And sayings laid up, portending strange events." 
 
 Thus Mary, pondering oft, and oft to mind 
 Recalling what remarkably had pass'd 
 Since her first salutation heard, with thoughts 
 Meekly compos'd awaited the fulfilling: 
 The while her Son, tracing the desert wild, 
 Sole, but with holiest meditations fed. 
 Into himself descended, and at once 
 All his great work to come before him set; 
 How to begin, how to accomplish best 
 His end of being on earth, and mission high: 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 407 
 
 For Satan, with sly preface to return, 
 Had left him vacant, and with speed was gone 
 Up to the middle region of thick air, 
 Where all his potentates in council sat; 
 There, without sign of boast, or sign of joy, 
 Solicitous and blank, he thus began: [thrones, 
 " Princes, Heaven's ancient sons, ethereal 
 Demonian spirits now, from the element 
 Each of his reign allotted, rightlier call'd 
 Powers of fire, air, water, and earth beneath ! 
 (So we may hold our place and these mild seats 
 Without new trouble !) such an enemy 
 Is risen to invade us, who no less 
 Threatens than our expulsion down to hell; 
 I, as I undertook, and with the vote 
 Consenting in full frequence was einpower'd, 
 Have found him, view'd him, tasted him; but find 
 Far other labour to be undergone 
 Than when I dealt with Adam, first of men: 
 Though Adam by his wife's allurement fell, 
 However to this man inferior far; 
 If he be man by mother's side at least, 
 With more than human gifts from Heaven adorn'd, 
 Perfections absolute, graces divine, 
 And amplitude of mind to greatest deeds. 
 Therefore I am return'd, lest confidence 
 Of my success with Eve in paradise 
 Deceive ye to persuasion oversure 
 Of like succeeding here: I summon all 
 Rather to be in readiness, with hand 
 Or counsel to assist; lest I, who erst 
 
408 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 i * 
 
 Thought none my equal, now be over-match'd." 
 
 So spake the old serpent, doubting; and from all 
 With clamour was assured their utmost aid 
 At his command: when from amidst them rose 
 Belial, the dissolutest spirit that fell, 
 The sensualist; and, after Asmodai, 
 The fleshliest incubus; and thus advised : 
 
 " Set women in his eye, and in his walk, 
 Among daughters of men the fairest found: 
 Many are in each region passing fair 
 As the noon sky; more like to goddesses 
 Than mortal creatures; graceful and discreet; 
 Expert in amorous arts, enchanting tongues 
 Persuasive, virgin majesty with mild 
 And sweet allay'd, yet terrible to approach; 
 Skill'd to retire, and, in retiring, draw 
 Hearts after them tangled in amorous nets. 
 Such object hath the power to soften and tame 
 Severest temper, smooth the rugged'st brow, 
 Enerve, and with voluptuous hope dissolve, 
 Draw out with credulous desire, and lead 
 At will the manliest, resolutest breast, 
 As the magnetic hardest iron draws. 
 Women, when nothing else, beguil'd the heart 
 Of wisest Solomon, and made him build, 
 And made him bow, to the gods of his wives." 
 To whom quick answer Satan thus returned: 
 " Belial, in much uneven scale thou weigh'st 
 All others by thyself; because of old 
 Thou thyself doat'st on womankind, admiring 
 Their shape, their colour, and attractive grace, 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 409 
 
 None are, thou think'st, but taken with such toys. 
 
 Before the flood thou with thy lusty crew, 
 
 False titled sons of God, roaming the earth, 
 
 Cast wanton eyes on the daughters of men, 
 
 And coupled with them, and begot a race. 
 
 Have we not seen, or by relation heard, 
 
 In courts and regal chambers how thou lurk'st, 
 
 In wood or grove, by mossy fountain side, 
 
 In valley or green meadow, to waylay 
 
 Some beauty rare, Calisto, Clymene, 
 
 Daphne, or Semele, Antiopa, 
 
 Or Amymone, Syrinx, many more 
 
 Too long; then lay'st thy scapes on names ador'd, 
 
 Apollo, Neptune, Jupiter, or Pan, 
 
 Satyr, or Eaun, or Sylvan ? But these haunts 
 
 Delight not all; among the sons of men, 
 
 How many have with a smile made small account 
 
 Of beauty and her lures, easily scorn'd 
 
 All her assaults, on worthier things intent! 
 
 Remember that Pellean conqueror, 
 
 A youth, how all the beauties of the East 
 
 He slightly view'd, and slightly overpass'd; 
 
 How he, surnam'd of Africa, dismiss'd, 
 
 In his prime youth, the fair Iberian maid. 
 
 For Solomon, he liv'd at ease, and full 
 
 Of honour, wealth, high fare, aim'd not beyond 
 
 Higher design than to enjoy his state; 
 
 Thence to the bait of women lay expos'd: 
 
 But he, whom we attempt, is wiser far 
 
 Than Solomon, of more exalted mind, 
 
 Made arid set wholly on the accomplishment 
 
410 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Of greatest things. What woman will you find. 
 
 Though of this age the wonder and the fame, 
 
 On whom his leisure will vouchsafe an eye 
 
 Of fond desire? Or should she, confident, 
 
 As sitting queen ador'd on beauty's throne, 
 
 Descend with all her winning charms begirt 
 
 To enamour, as the zone of Venus once 
 
 Wrought that effect on Jove, so fables tell; 
 
 How would one look from his majestic brow, 
 
 Seated as on the top of Virtue's hill, 
 
 Discountenance her despis'd, and put to rout 
 
 All her array; her female pride deject, 
 
 Or turn to reverent awe! for beauty stands 
 
 In the admiration only of weak minds 
 
 Led captive; cease to admire, and all her plumes 
 
 Fall flat, and shrink into a trivial toy, 
 
 At every sudden slighting quite abash'd. 
 
 Therefore with manlier objects we must try 
 
 His constancy; with such as have more show 
 
 Of worth, of honour, glory, and popular praise; 
 
 Rocks whereon greatest men have oftest wreck'd; 
 
 Or that which only seems to satisfy 
 
 Lawful desires of nature, not beyond; 
 
 And now I know he hungers, where no food 
 
 Is to be found, in the wide wilderness: 
 
 The rest commit to me; I shall let pass 
 
 No advantage, and his strength as oft assay." 
 
 He ceas'd, and heard their grant in loud acclaim; 
 Then forthwith to him takes a chosen band 
 Of spirits, likest to himself in guile, 
 To be at hand, and at his beck appear, 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 411 
 
 If cause were to unfold some active scene 
 
 Of various persons, each to know his part: 
 
 Then to the desert takes with these his flight; 
 
 Where, still from shade to shade, the Son of God 
 
 After forty days fasting had remain'd, 
 
 Now hungering first, and to himself thus said: [pass'd 
 
 "Where will this end? four times ten days I've 
 Wandering this moody maze, and human food 
 Nor tasted, nor had appetite; that fast 
 To virtue I impute not, or count part 
 Of what I suffer here; if nature need not, 
 Or God support nature without repast 
 Though needing, what praise is it to endure? 
 But now I feel I hunger, which declares 
 Nature hath need of what she asks; yet God 
 Can satisfy that need some other way, 
 Though hunger still remain: so it remain 
 Without this body's wasting, I content me, 
 And from the sting of famine fear no harm; 
 Nor mind it, fed with better thoughts, that feed 
 Me hungering more to do my Father's will." 
 
 It was the hour of night, when thus the Son 
 Commun'd in silent walk, then laid him down 
 Under the hospitable covert nigh 
 Of trees thick interwoven; there he slept, 
 And dream'd, as appetite is wont to dream, 
 Of meats and drinks, nature's refreshment sweet: 
 Him thought, he by the brook of Cherith stood, 
 And saw the ravens with their horny beaks 
 Food to Elijah bringing, even and morn, [brought: 
 Though ravenous, taught to abstain from what they 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 He saw the Prophet also, how he fled 
 
 Into the desert, and how there he slept 
 
 Under a juniper; then how, awak'd, 
 
 He found his supper on the coals prepar'd, 
 
 And by the angel was bid rise and eat, 
 
 And eat the second time after repose, 
 
 The strength whereof suffic'd him forty days: 
 
 Sometimes that with Elijah he partook, 
 
 Or as a guest with Daniel at his pulse. 
 
 Thus wore out night; and now the herald lark 
 
 Left his ground-nest, high towering to descry 
 
 The morn's approach, and greet her with his song; 
 
 As lightly from his grassy couch up rose 
 
 Our Saviour, and found all was but a dream; 
 
 Fasting he went to sleep, and fasting wak'd. 
 
 Up to a hill anon his steps he rear'd, 
 
 From whose high top to ken the prospect round 
 
 If cottage were in view, sheep-cote, or herd; 
 
 But cottage, herd, or sheep-cote none he saw; 
 
 Only in a bottom saw a pleasant grove, 
 
 With chant of tuneful birds resounding loud : 
 
 Thither he bent his way, determin'd there 
 
 To rest at noon; and entered soon the shade 
 
 High-roof d, and walks beneath, and alleys brown, 
 
 That open'd in the midst a woody scene; 
 
 Nature's own work it seem'd, (Nature taught Art,) 
 
 And, to a superstitious eye, the haunt 
 
 Of wood-gods and wood-nymphs: he viewed it 
 
 When suddenly a man before him stood; [round; 
 
 Not rustic as before, but seemlier clad, 
 
 As one in city, or court, or palace bred, 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 413 
 
 And with fair speech these words to him addressed: 
 
 "With granted leave officious I return: 
 But much more wonder that the Son of God 
 In this wild solitude so long should bide, 
 Of all things destitute; and, well I know, 
 Not without hunger. Others of some note, 
 As story tells, have trod this wilderness; 
 The fugitive bond-woman, with her son, 
 Outcast Nebaioth, yet found here relief 
 By a providing angel; all the race 
 Of Israel here had famish'd, had not God [bold, 
 Rain'd from heaven manna; and that prophet 
 Native of Thebez, wandering here was fed 
 Twice by a voice inviting him to eat. 
 Of thee these forty days none hath regard, 
 Forty and more deserted here indeed/' [hence 1 ? 
 To whom thus Jesus: "What conclud'st thou 
 They all had need; I, as thou seest, have none." 
 " How hast thou hunger then 1 ?" Satan replied. 
 " Tell me, if food were now before thee set, 
 Would'st thou not eat?" " Thereafter as I like 
 The giver," answered Jesus. " Why should that 
 Cause thy refusal 1 ?" said the subtle fiend: 
 f Hast thou not right to all created things? 
 Owe not all creatures by just right to thee 
 Duty and service, nor to stay till bid, 
 But tender all their power 1 ? Nor mention I 
 Meats by the law unclean, or offer'd first 
 To idols; those young Daniel could refuse: 
 Nor proffer'd by an enemy; though who 
 Would scruple that, with want oppress'd? Behold 
 
414 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Nature asham'd, or, better to express, 
 Troubled, that thou shouldst hunger, hath pur- 
 From all the elements her choicest store, [vey d 
 To treat thee as beseems, and as her Lord, 
 With honour: only deign to sit and eat." 
 
 He spake no dream; for, as his words had end. 
 Our Saviour, lifting up his eyes, beheld, 
 In ample space under the broadest shade, 
 A table richly spread, in regal mode, 
 With dishes pil'd, and meats of noblest sort 
 And savour; beasts of chase, or fowl of game, 
 In pastry built, or from the spit, or boil'd, 
 Gris-amber-steam'd; all fish, from sea or shore, 
 Freshet or purling brook, of shell or fin, 
 And exquisitest name, for which was drain'd 
 Pontus, and Lucrine bay, and Afric coast. 
 (Alas! how simple, to these cates compar'd. 
 Was that crude apple that diverted Eve!) 
 And at a stately sideboard, by the wine, 
 That fragrant smell diffus'd, in order stood 
 Tall stripling youths rich clad, of fairer hue 
 Than Ganymede or Hylas; distant more 
 Under the trees now tripp'd, now solemn stood, 
 Nymphs of Diana's train, and Naiades 
 With fruits and flowers from Amalthea's horn, 
 And ladies of the Hesperides, that seem'd 
 Fairer than feign'd of old, or fabled since 
 Of fairy damsels, met in the forest wide 
 By knights of Logres, or of Lyones, 
 Lancelot, or Pelleas, or Pellenore. 
 And all the while harmonious airs were heard 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 415 
 
 Of chiming strings, or charming pipes; and winds 
 Of gentlest gale Arabian odours fann'd 
 From their soft wings, and Flora's earliest smells. 
 Such was the splendour; and the tempter now 
 His invitation earnestly renewed: 
 
 " What doubts the Son of God to sit and eat? 
 These are not fruits forbidden; no interdict 
 Defends the touching of these viands pure: 
 Their taste no knowledge works, at least of evil; 
 But life preserves, destroys life's enemy, 
 Hunger, with sweet restorative delight. 
 All these are spirits of air, and woods, and springs, 
 Thy gentle ministers, who come to pay 
 Thee homage, and acknowledge thee their Lord. 
 What doubt'st thou, Son of God? Sit down and 
 
 To whom thus Jesus temperately replied: [eat/' 
 " Said'st thou not that to all things I had right? 
 And who withholds my power that right to use? 
 Shall I receive by gift, what of my own, 
 When and where likes me best, I can command? 
 I can at will, doubt not, as soon as thou, 
 Command a table in this wilderness, 
 And call swift flights of angels ministrant 
 Array'd in glory on my cup to attend: 
 Why should'st thou then obtrude this diligence, 
 In vain, where no acceptance it can find? 
 And with my hunger what hast thou to do? 
 Thy pompous delicacies I contemn, 
 And count thy specious gifts no gifts, but guiles." 
 
 To whom thus answer'd Satan malcontent: 
 " That I have also power to give, thou seest; 
 
416 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 If of that power I bring thee voluntary 
 What I might have bestow'd on whom I pleas'd, 
 And rather opportunely in this place 
 Chose to impart to thy apparent need, 
 Why should'st thou not accept it? but I see 
 What I can do or offer is suspect; 
 Of these things others quickly will dispose, 
 Whose pains have earn'd the far-fet spoil." With 
 Both table and provision vanish' d quite 
 With sound of harpies' wings and talons heard: 
 Only the importune tempter still remained, 
 And with these words his temptation pursued: 
 " By hunger, that each other creature tames, 
 Thou art not to be harm'd, therefore not mov'd; 
 Thy temperance, invincible besides, 
 For no allurement yields to appetite; 
 And all thy heart is set on high designs, 
 High actions: but wherewith to be achiev'd? 
 Great acts require great means of enterprise: 
 Thou art unknown, unfriended, low of birth, 
 A carpenter thy father known, thyself 
 Bred up in poverty and straits at home; 
 Lost in a desert here and hunger-bit. 
 Which way, or from what hope, dost thou aspire 
 To greatness 1 ? whence authority derivest? 
 What followers, what retinue canst thou gain, 
 Or at thy heels the dizzy multitude, 
 Longer than thou can'st feed them on thy cost? 
 Money brings honour, friends, conquest, and realms: 
 What rais'd Antipater the Edomite, 
 And his son Herod plac'd on Judah's throne, 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 417 
 
 (Thy throne,) but gold, that got him puissant friends'? 
 Therefore, if at great things thou would'st arrive, 
 Get riches first, get wealth, and treasure heap, 
 Not difficult, if thou hearken to me: 
 Riches are mine, fortune is in my hand: 
 They whom I favour thrive in wealth amain ; 
 While virtue, valour, wisdom, sit in want." 
 
 To whom thus Jesus patiently replied: 
 " Yet wealth, without these three, is impotent 
 To gain dominion, or to keep it gain'd. 
 Witness those ancient empires of the earth, 
 In height of all their flowing wealth dissolv'd : 
 But men endued with these have oft attain 'd 
 In lowest poverty to highest deeds; 
 Gideon, and Jephthah, and the shepherd lad, 
 Whose offspring on the throne of Judah sat 
 So many ages, and shall yet regain 
 That seat, and reign in Israel without end. 
 Among the heathen, (for throughout the world 
 To me is not unknown what hath been done 
 Worthy of memorial,) canst thou not remember 
 Quintius, Fabricius, Curius, Regulus 1 ? 
 For I esteem those names of men so poor, 
 Who could do mighty things, and could contemn 
 Riches, though offered from the hand of kings. 
 And what in me seems wanting, but that I 
 May also in this poverty as soon 
 Accomplish what they did, perhaps and more? 
 Extol not riches then, the toil of fools, 
 The wise man's cumbrance, if not snare; more apt 
 To slacken Virtue, and abate her edge, 
 
418 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Than prompt her to do aught may merit praise. 
 
 What if with like aversion I reject 
 
 Riches and realms ? yet not, for that a crown, 
 
 Golden in show, is but a wreath of thorns, 
 
 Brings dangers, troubles, cares, and sleepless nights, 
 
 To him who wears the regal diadem, 
 
 When on his shoulders each man's burden lies; 
 
 For therein stands the office of a king; 
 
 His honour, virtue, merit, and chief praise, 
 
 That for the public all this weight he bears. 
 
 Yet he, who reigns within himself, and rules 
 
 Passions, desires, and fears, is more a king; 
 
 Which every wise and virtuous man attains; 
 
 And who attains not, ill aspires to rule 
 
 Cities of men, or headstrong multitudes, 
 
 Subject himself to anarchy within, 
 
 Or lawless passions in him, which he serves. 
 
 But to guide nations in the way of truth 
 
 By saving doctrine, and from error lead, 
 
 To know, and knowing worship God aright, 
 
 Is yet more kingly; this attracts the soul, 
 
 Governs the inner man, the nobler part: 
 
 The other o'er the body only reigns, 
 
 And oft by force; which, to a generous mind, 
 
 So reigning, can be no sincere delight. 
 
 Besides, to give a kingdom hath been thought 
 
 Greater and nobler done, and to lay down 
 
 Far more magnanimous, than to assume. 
 
 Riches are needless then, both for themselves, 
 
 And for thy reason why they should be sought, 
 
 To gain a sceptre, oftest better miss'd." 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Satan endeavours to awaken in Jesus a passion for glory, by 
 particularising various instances of conquests achieved by 
 persons at an early period of life. Our Lord replies, by 
 showing the vanity of worldly fame, and the improper means 
 by which it is generally attained; and contrasts with it the 
 true glory of religious patience and virtuous wisdom, as ex- 
 emplified in the character of Job. Satan justifies the love of 
 glory from the example of God himself. Jesus detects the 
 fallacy of this argument, by showing that, as goodness is 
 the true ground on which glory is due to the great Creator 
 of all things, sinful man can have no right whatever to it. 
 Satan then urges our Lord respecting his claim to the throne 
 of David; he tells him that the kingdom of Judea cannot be 
 got posteuion of without much exertion on his party and 
 'presses him to lose no time in beginning to reign. Jesus refers 
 him to the time allotted for this, as well as all other things; 
 and, after intimating somewhat respecting his own previous 
 sufferings, asks Satan why he should be so solicitous for the 
 exaltation of one whose rising was destined to be his fall? 
 Satan replies, that his own desperate state, by excluding all- 
 hope, leaves little room for fear; and that, as his own punish- 
 ment was equally doomed, he is not interested in preventing 
 the reign of one, from whose apparent benevolence he might 
 rather hope for some interference in his favour. Satan still 
 pursues his former incitements; and, supposing that the 
 seeming reluctance of Jesus to be thus advanced might arise 
 from his being unacquainted with the world and its glories, 
 conveys him to the summit of a high mountain, andfromthence 
 shows him most of the kingdoms of Asia, particularly point- 
 ing out to his notice some extraordinary military prepara- 
 tions of the Parthians to resist the incursions of the Scythians. 
 lie then informs our Lord, that he showed him this purposely, 
 that he might see how necessary military exertions are to re- 
 tain the possession of kingdoms, as well as to subdue them at 
 first; and advises him to consider how impossible it was to 
 maintain Judea against two such powerful neighbours as 
 the Romans and Parthians, and how necessary it would be 
 to form an alliance with one or other of them. At the same 
 time he recommends, and engages to secure to him, that of the 
 Parthians; and tells him that by this means his power will 
 be defended from any thing that Rome or Ccesar might at- 
 tempt against it, and that lie will be able to extend hi* glory 
 wide, and especially to accomplish, what was particularly 
 necessary to make the throne of Judea really the throne of 
 David, the deliverance and restoration of the ten tribes, still 
 in a state of captivity. Jesus says, that when the time comes 
 for ascending his allotted throne he shall not be slack: he re- 
 marks on Satan's extraordinary zeal for the deliverance of 
 the Israelites, and declares their servitude to be the conse- 
 quence of their idolatry; but adds, that at a future time it 
 may perhaps please God to restore them to their liberty and 
 native land. 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 So spake the Son of God; and Satan stood 
 Awhile as mute, confounded what to say, 
 What to reply, confuted, and convinced 
 Of his weak arguing and fallacious drift: 
 At length, collecting all his serpent wiles, 
 With soothing words renew'd him thus accosts: 
 
 " I see thou know'st what is of use to know, 
 What best to say, canst say, to do canst do; 
 Thy actions to thy words accord; thy words 
 To thy large heart give utterance due; thy heart 
 Contains of good, wise, just, the perfect shape. 
 Should kings and nations from thy mouth consult, 
 Thy counsel would be as the oracle 
 Urim and Thummim, those oraculous gems 
 On Aaron's breast; or tongue of seers old, 
 Infallible; or wert thou sought to deeds 
 That might require the array of war, thy skill 
 Of conduct would be such, that all the world 
 Could not sustain thy prowess, or subsist 
 In battle, though against thy few in arms. 
 These godlike virtues wherefore dost thou hide ; 
 
422 PAEADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Affecting private life, or more obscure 
 In savage wilderness? Wherefore deprive 
 All earth her wonder at thy acts, thyself 
 The fame and glory; glory, the reward 
 That sole excites to high attempts, the flame 
 Of most erected spirits, most temper'd pure 
 Ethereal, who all pleasures else despise, 
 All treasures and all gain esteem as dross, 
 And dignities and powers all but the highest? 
 Thy years are ripe and over-ripe; the son 
 Of Macedonian Philip had ere these 
 Won Asia, and the throne of Cyrus held 
 At his dispose; young Scipio had brought down 
 The Carthaginian pride; young Pompey quellVl 
 The Pontic king, and in triumph had rode. 
 Yet years, and to ripe years judgment mature. 
 Quench not the thirst of glory, but augment. 
 Great Julius, whom now all the world admires, 
 The more he grew in years, the more inflamed 
 With glory, wept that he had lived so long 
 Inglorious: but thou yet art not too late." 
 
 To whom our Saviour calmly thus replied: 
 " Thou neither dost persuade me to seek wealth 
 For empire's sake, nor empire to affect 
 For glory's sake, by all thy argument. 
 For what is glory but the blaze of fame, 
 The people's praise, if always praise unmix'd? 
 And what the people but a herd confus'd, 
 A miscellaneous rable, who extol [praise? 
 Things vulgar, and, well weigh'd, scarce worth the 
 They praise, and they admire, they know not what. 
 i . 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 423 
 
 And know not whom, but as one leads the other; 
 And what delight to be by such extoll'd, 
 To live upon their tongues, and be their talk, 
 Of whom to be disprais'd were no small praise? 
 His lot who dares to be singularly good. 
 The intelligent among them and the wise 
 Are few, and glory scarce of few is raised. 
 This is true glory and renown; when God, 
 Looking on the earth, with approbation marks 
 The just man, and divulges him through heaven 
 To all his angels, who with true applause 
 Recount his praises: thus he did to Job, [earth, 
 When, to extend his fame through heaven and 
 As thou to thy reproach may'st well remember, 
 He ask'd thee, ' Hast thou seen my servant Job?' 
 Famous he was in heaven, on earth less known; 
 Where glory is false glory, attributed 
 To things not glorious, men not worthy of fame. 
 They err, who count it glorious to subdue 
 By conquest far and wide, to overrun 
 Large countries, and in field great battles win, 
 Great cities by assault: what do these worthies, 
 But rob and spoil, burn, slaughter, and enslave 
 Peaceable nations, neighbouring or remote, 
 Made captive, yet deserving freedom more 
 Than those their conquerors, who leave behind 
 Nothing but ruin wheresoe'er they rove, 
 And all the flourishing works of peace destroy; 
 Then swell with pride, and must be titled gods, 
 Great benefactors of mankind, deliverers, 
 Worshipped with temple, priest, and sacrifice? 
 
424 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 One is the son of Jove, of Mars the other; 
 Till conqueror Death discover them scarce men, 
 Rolling in brutish vices, and deform'd, 
 Violent or shameful death their due reward. 
 But if there be in glory aught of good, 
 It may by means far different be attain'd, 
 Without ambition, war, or violence; 
 By deeds of peace, by wisdom eminent, 
 By patience, temperance: I mention still 
 Him, whom thy wrongs, with saintly patience borne, 
 Made famous in a land and times obscure; 
 Who names not now with honour patient Job? 
 Poor Socrates, (who next more memorable?) 
 By what he taught, and suffer'd for so doing, 
 For truth's sake suffering death unjust, lives now 
 Equal in fame to proudest conquerors. 
 Yet if for fame and glory aught be done, 
 Aught suffer'd; if young African for fame 
 His wasted country freed from Punic rage; 
 The deed becomes unprais'd, the man at least, 
 And loses, though but verbal, his reward. 
 Shall I seek glory then, as vain men seek, 
 Oft not deserv'd 1 ? I seek not mine, but His 
 Who sent me; and thereby witness whence I am/' 
 To whom the tempter murmuring thus replied: 
 " Think not so slight of glory; therein least 
 Resembling thy great Father: he seeks glory, 
 And for his glory all things made, all things 
 Orders and governs; not content in heaven, 
 By all his angels glorified, requires 
 Glory from men, from all men, good or bad, 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 425 
 
 Wise or unwise, no difference, no exemption: 
 Above all sacrifice or hallow'd gift, 
 Glory he requires, and glory lie receives, 
 Promiscuous from all nations, Jew or Greek, 
 Or barbarous, nor exception hath declar'd: 
 From us, his foes pronounc'd, glory he exacts." 
 
 To whom our Saviour fervently replied: 
 "And reason; since his word all things produc'd, 
 Though chiefly not for glory as prime end, 
 But to show forth his goodness, and impart 
 His good communicable to every soul 
 Freely; of whom what could he less expect 
 Than glory and benediction, that is, thanks, 
 The slightest, easiest, readiest recompense 
 From them who could return him nothing else; 
 And, not returning that, would likeliest render 
 Contempt instead, dishonour, obloquy? 
 Hard recompense, unsuitable return 
 For so much good, so much beneficence! 
 But why should man seek glory, who of his own 
 Hath nothing, and to whom nothing belongs 
 But condemnation, ignominy, and shame ? 
 Who, for so many benefits receiv'd, 
 Turn'd recreant to God, ingrate and false, 
 And so of all true good himself despoil'd : 
 Yet, sacrilegious, to himself would take 
 That which to God alone of right belongs: 
 Yet so much bounty is in God, such grace; 
 That who advance his glory, not their own, 
 Them he himself to glory will advance." 
 
 So spake the Son of God; and here again 
 
426 PAEADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Satan had not to answer, but stood struck 
 With guilt of his own sin; for he himself, 
 Insatiable of glory, had lost all: 
 Yet of another plea bethought him soon: 
 
 " Of glory, as thou wilt, said he, so deem; 
 Worth or not worth the seeking, let it pass. 
 But to a kingdom thou art born, ordain'd 
 To sit upon thy father David's throne, 
 By mother's side thy father; though thy right 
 Be now in powerful hands, that will not part 
 Easily from possession won with arms: 
 Judea now and all the Promis'd Land, 
 Reduc'd a province under Roman yoke, 
 Obeys Tiberius; nor is always rul'd 
 With temperate sway: oft have they violated 
 The temple, oft the law, with foul affronts, 
 Abominations rather, as did once 
 Antiochus: and think'st thou to regain 
 Thy right, by sitting still, or thus retiring? 
 So did not Maccabeus: he indeed 
 Retir'd into the desert, but with arms: 
 And o'er a mighty king so oft prevail'd, 
 That by strong hand his family obtain'd, [usurp'd, 
 Though priests, the crown, and David's throne 
 With Modin and her suburbs once content. 
 If kingdom move thee not, let move thee zeal 
 And duty; zeal and duty are not slow, 
 But on occasion's forelock watchful wait: 
 They themselves rather are occasion best; 
 Zeal of thy father's house, duty to free 
 Thy country from her heathen servitude. 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 427 
 
 So shalt thou best fulfil, best verify 
 
 The prophets old, who sung thy endless reign; 
 
 The happier reign, the sooner it begins: 
 
 Reign then; what canst thou better do the while?" 
 
 To whom our Saviour answer thus return'd: 
 " All things are best fulfilled in their due time; 
 And time there is for all things, Truth hath said. 
 If of my reign Prophetic Writ hath told, 
 That it shall never end; so, when begin, 
 The Father in his purpose hath decreed; 
 He, in whose hand all times and seasons roll. 
 What if he hath decreed that I shall first 
 Be tried in humble state, and things adverse, 
 By tribulations, injuries, insults, 
 Contempts, and scorns, and snares, and violence 
 Suffering, abstaining, quietly expecting, 
 Without distrust or doubt, that he may know 
 What I can suffer, how obey? Who best 
 Can suffer, best can do; best reign, who first 
 Well hath obey'd; just trial, ere I merit 
 My exaltation without change or end. 
 But what concerns it thee, when I begin 
 My everlasting kingdom? Why art thou 
 Solicitous? What moves thy inquisition? 
 Know'st thou not that my rising is thy fall, 
 And my promotion will be thy destruction?" 
 
 To whom the Tempter, inly rack'd, replied: 
 " Let that come when it comes; all hope is lost 
 Of my reception into grace : what worse? 
 For where no hope is left, is left no fear: 
 If there be worse, the expectation more 
 
428 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Of worse torments me than the feeling can. 
 
 I would be at the worst: worst is my port, 
 
 My harbour, and my ultimate repose; 
 
 The end I would attain, my final good. 
 
 My error was my error, and my crime 
 
 My crime; whatever, for itself condemn'd; 
 
 And will alike be punish'd, whether thou 
 
 Reign, or reign not; though that gentle brow 
 
 Willingly could I fly, and hope thy reign, 
 
 From that placid aspect and meek regard, 
 
 Rather than aggravate my evil state, 
 
 Would stand between me and thy Father's ire, 
 
 (Whose ire I dread more than the fire of hell,) 
 
 A shelter and a kind of shading cool 
 
 Interposition, as a summer's cloud. 
 
 If I then to the worst that can be haste, 
 
 Why move thy feet so slow to what is best, 
 
 Happiest, both to thyself and all the world, [king? 
 
 That thou, who worthiest art, should'st be theii 
 
 Perhaps thou linger'st, in deep thoughts detain'd 
 
 Of the enterprise so hazardous and high; 
 
 No wonder; for though in thee be united 
 
 What of perfection can in man be found, 
 
 Or human nature can receive, consider, 
 
 Thy life hath yet been private, most part spent 
 
 At home, scarce view'd the Galilean towns, 
 
 And once a-year Jerusalem, few days' [serve 1 ? 
 
 Short sojourn; and what thence could'st thou ob- 
 
 The world thou hast not seen, much less her glory. 
 
 Empires, and monarchs, and their radiant courts 
 
 Best school of best experience, quickest insight 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 429 
 
 In all things that to greatest actions lead. 
 
 The wisest, inexperienc'd, will be ever 
 
 Timorous and loath, with novice modesty, 
 
 (As he who, seeking asses, found a kingdom,) 
 
 Irresolute, unhardy, unad venturous: 
 
 But I will bring thee where thou soon shalt quit 
 
 Those rudiments, and see before thine eyes 
 
 The monarchies of the earth, their pomp and state: 
 
 Sufficient introduction to inform 
 
 Thee, of thyself so apt, in regal arts 
 
 And regal mysteries; that thou may'st know 
 
 How best their opposition to withstand." 
 
 With that, (such power was given him then,) he 
 The Son of God up to a mountain high. [took 
 It was a mountain at whose verdant feet 
 A spacious plain, outstretch'd in circuit wide. 
 Lay pleasant; from his side two rivers flow'd, 
 The one winding, the other straight, and left be- 
 Fair champain with less rivers intervein'd, [tween 
 Then meeting join'd their tribute to the sea; 
 Fertile of corn the glebe, of oil, and wine; [hills; 
 With herds the pastures throng'd, with flocks the 
 Huge cities and high tower'd, that well might seem 
 The seats of mightiest monarchs; and so large 
 The prospect was, that here and there was room 
 For barren desert, fountainless and dry. 
 To this high mountain too the Tempter brought 
 Our Saviour, and new train of words began: 
 
 " Well have we speeded, and o'er hill and dale, 
 Forest and field and flood, temples and towers, 
 Cut shorter many a league; here thou behold'st, 
 
430 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Assyria, and her empire's ancient bounds, 
 Araxes and the Caspian lake; thence on 
 As far as Indus east, Euphrates west. 
 And oft beyond: to south the Persian bay, 
 And, inaccessible, the Arabian drouth: 
 Here Nineveh, of length within her wall 
 Several days' journey, built by Ninus old, 
 Of that first golden monarchy the seat, 
 And seat of Salmanassar, whose success 
 Israel in long captivity still mourns; 
 There Babylon, the wonder of all tongues 
 As ancient, but rebuilt by him who twice 
 Judah and all thy father David's house 
 Led captive, and Jerusalem laid waste, 
 Till Cyrus set them free; Persepolis, 
 His city, there thou seest, and Bactria there; 
 Ecbatana her structure vast there shows, 
 And Hecatomplos her hundred gates; 
 There Susa by Choaspes, amber stream, 
 The drink of none but kings; of later fame, 
 Built by Emathian or by Parthian hands, 
 The great Seleucia, Nisibis, and there 
 Artaxata, Teredon, Ctesiphon, 
 Turning with easy eye, thou may'st behold. 
 All these the Parthian, (now some ages past, 
 By great Arsaces led, who founded first 
 That empire,) under his dominion holds, 
 From the luxurious kings of Antioch won. 
 And just in time thou com'st to have a view 
 Of his great power; for now the Parthian king 
 In Ctesiphon hath gathered all his host 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 431 
 
 Against the Scythian, whose incursions wild 
 
 Have wasted Sogdiana; to her aid 
 
 He marches now in haste; see, though from far, 
 
 His thousands, in what martial equipage 
 
 They issue forth, steel bows and shafts their arms 
 
 Of equal dread in flight or in pursuit; 
 
 All horsemen, in which fight they most excel; 
 
 See how in warlike muster they appear, 
 
 In rhombs, and wedges, and half-moons and wings. 
 
 He look'd, and saw what numbers numberless 
 The city gates outpour'd, light-armed troops 
 In coats of mail and military pride; 
 In mail their horses clad, yet fleet and strong, 
 Prancing their riders bore, the flower and choice 
 Of many provinces from bound to bound; 
 From Arachosia, from Candaor east, 
 And Margiana to the Hyrcanian cliffs 
 Of Caucasus, and dark Iberian dales; 
 From Atropatia and the neighbouring plains 
 Of Adiabene, Media, and the south 
 Of Susiana, to Balsara's haven. 
 He saw them in their forms of battle rang'd, [shot 
 How quick they wheel'd, and flying behind them 
 Sharp sleet of arrowy showers against the face 
 Of their pursuers, and overcame by flight: 
 The field all iron cast a gleaming brown : 
 Nor wanted clouds of foot, nor on each horn 
 Cuirassiers all in steel for standing fight, 
 Chariots, or elephants indors'd with towers 
 Of archers; nor of labouring pioneers 
 A multitude, with spades and axes arm'd 
 
432 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 To lay hills plain, fell woods, or valleys fill, 
 Or where plain was raise hill, or overlay 
 With bridges rivers proud, as with a yoke: 
 Mules after these, camels and dromedaries, 
 And waggons, fraught with utensils of war. 
 Such forces met not, nor so wide a camp, 
 When Agrican with all his northern powers 
 Besieg'd Albracca, as romances tell, 
 The city of Gallaphrone, from thence to win 
 The fairest of her sex Angelica, 
 His daughter, sought by many prowest knights, 
 Both Paynim, and the peers of Charlemain. 
 Such and so numerous was their chivalry: 
 At sight whereof the fiend yet more presum'd, 
 And to our Saviour thus his words renew'd: 
 
 " That thou may'st know I seek not to engage 
 Thy virtue, and not every way secure 
 On no slight grounds thy safety; hear and mark 
 To what end I have brought thee hither, and shown 
 All this fair sight: thy kingdom, though foretold 
 By prophet or by angel, unless thou 
 Endeavour, as thy father David did, 
 Thou never shalt obtain; prediction still 
 In all things, and all men, supposes means; 
 Without means used, what it predicts revokes. 
 But, say thou wert possess'd of David's throne. 
 By free consent of all, none opposite, 
 Samaritan or Jew; how could'st thou hope 
 Long to enjoy it, quiet and secure, 
 Between two such enclosing enemies, 
 Roman and Parthian ? Therefore one of these 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 433 
 
 Thou must make sure thy own; the Parthian first 
 
 By my advice, as nearer, and of late 
 
 Found able by invasion to annoy 
 
 Thy country, and captive lead away her kings, 
 
 Antigonus and old Hyrcanus, bound, 
 
 Maugre the Roman; it shall be my task 
 
 To render thee the Parthian at dispose; 
 
 Choose which thou wilt, by conquest or by league: 
 
 By him thou shalt regain, without him not, 
 
 That which alone can truly reinstall thee 
 
 In David's royal seat, his true successor, 
 
 Deliverance of thy brethren, those ten tribes, 
 
 Whose offspring in his territory yet serve, 
 
 In Habor, and among the Medes dispers'd: 
 
 Ten sons of Jacob, two of Joseph, lost 
 
 Thus long from Israel, serving, as of old 
 
 Their fathers in the land of Egypt serv'd, 
 
 This offer sets before thee to deliver. 
 
 These if from servitude thou shalt restore 
 
 To their inheritance; then, nor till then, 
 
 Thou on the throne of David in full glory, 
 
 From Egypt to Euphrates, and beyond, 
 
 Shalt reign, and Rome or Caesar not need fear." 
 
 To whom our Saviour answer'd thus, unmoved: 
 " Much ostentation vain of fleshly arm 
 And fragile arms, much instrument of war, 
 Long in preparing, soon to nothing brought, 
 Before mine eyes thou hast set; and in my ear 
 Vented much policy, and projects deep 
 Of enemies, of aids, battles, and leagues, 
 Plausible to the world, to me worth nought. 
 
 2 K 
 
434: PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Means I must use, thou say'st; prediction else 
 
 Will unpredict, and fail me of the throne. 
 
 My time, I told thee, (and that time for thee 
 
 Were better farthest off,) is not yet come: 
 
 When that comes, think not thou to find me slack 
 
 On my part aught endeavouring, or to need 
 
 Thy politic maxims, or that cumbersome 
 
 Luggage of war there shown me, argument 
 
 Of human weakness rather than of strength. 
 
 My brethren, as thou call'st them, those ten tribes, 
 
 I must deliver, if I mean to reign 
 
 David's true heir, and his full sceptre sway 
 
 To just extent over all Israel's sons. 
 
 But whence to thee this zeal? Where was it then 
 
 For Israel, or for David, or his throne, 
 
 When thou stood'st up his tempter to the pride 
 
 Of numbering Israel, which cost the lives 
 
 Of threescore and ten thousand Israelites 
 
 By three days' pestilence 1 ? Such was thy zeal 
 
 To Israel then; the same that now to me ! 
 
 As for those captive tribes, themselves were they 
 
 Who wrought their own captivity, fell off 
 
 From God to worship calves, the deities 
 
 Of Egypt, Baal next and Ashtaroth, 
 
 And all the idolatries of heathen round, 
 
 Besides their other worse than heathenish crimes; 
 
 Nor in the land of their captivity 
 
 Humbled themselves, or penitent besought 
 
 The God of their forefathers; but so died 
 
 Impenitent, and left a race behind 
 
 Like to themselves, distinguishable scarce 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 435 
 
 From Gentiles, but by circumcision vain; 
 And God with idols in their worship join'd. 
 Should I of these the liberty regard, 
 Who, freed, as to their ancient patrimony, 
 Unhumbled, unrepentant, unreform'd, 
 Headlong would follow; and to their gods perhaps, 
 Of Bethel and of Dan? No; let them serve 
 Their enemies, who serve idols with God. 
 Yet he at length, (time to himself best known,) 
 Remembering Abraham, by some wondrous call 
 May bring them back, repentant and sincere, 
 And at their passing cleave the Assyrian flood, 
 While to their native land with joy they haste; 
 As the Red Sea and Jordan once he cleft, 
 When to the Promis'd Land their fathers pass'd: 
 To his due time and providence I leave them." 
 So spake Israel's true King, and to the fiend 
 Made answer meet, that made void all his wiles. 
 So fares it, when with truth falsehood contends. 
 
 END OF BOOK III. 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Satan, shows our Lord imperial Rome in its greatest pomp 
 and splendour, and tells him that he might with the greatest 
 ease expel Tiberius, restore the Romans to their liberty, and 
 make himself master not only of the Roman empire, but by 
 so doing, of the whole world, and inclusively of the throne 
 of David. Our Lord, in reply, expresses his contempt of 
 grandeur and worldly power, and briefly refers to the great- 
 ness of his own future kingdom. Satan, now desperate, 
 to enhance the value of his proffered gifts, professes that the 
 only terms on which he will bestow them, are our Saviour's 
 falling down and worshipping him. Our Lord expresses a 
 firm but temperate indignation at such a proposition, and 
 rebukes the tempter by the title of " Satan for ever damned." 
 Satan, abashed, attempts^ to justify himself: he then assumes 
 a new ground of temptation, and points out to Jesus the cele- 
 brated seat of ancient learning, Athens, its schools, and 
 other various resorts of learned teachers and their disciples; 
 accompanying the view with a highly-finished panegyric on 
 the Grecian musicians, poets, orators, and philosophers of 
 the different sects. Jesus replies, by showing the vanity and 
 insufficiency of the boasted Heathen philosophy; and prefers 
 to the music, poetry, eloquence, and didactic policy of the 
 Greeks, those of the inspired Hebrew writers. Satan up- 
 braids the indiscretion of our Saviour in rejecting his offers; 
 and having foretold the sufferings that our Lord was to un- 
 dergo, carries him back into the wilderness, and leaves him 
 there. Night comes on: Satan raises a tremendous storm, 
 and attempts further to alarm Jesus with frightful dreams, 
 and terrific threatening spectres. A calm, bright, beautiful 
 morning succeeds to the horrors of the night. Satan again 
 presents himself to our blessed Lord, and takes occasion once 
 more to insult him with an account of the sufferings which 
 he was certainly to undergo. This only draws from our Lord 
 a brief rebuke. Satan now at the height of his desperation, 
 confesses that he had frequently watched Jesus from his birth, 
 and, collecting from what passed at the river Jordan that he 
 most probably was the true Messiah, he had from that time 
 more assiduously followed him, in hopes of gaining some 
 advantage over him. In this he acknowledges that he has 
 hitherto completely failed; but still determines to make one 
 more trial of him. Accordingly he conveys him to the temple 
 at Jerusalem, and, placing him on a pointed eminence, re- 
 quires him to prove his Divinity either by standing there, or 
 casting himself down with safety. Our Lord reproves the 
 tempter, and at the same time manifests his own Divinity by 
 standing on this dangerous point. Satan, amazed and ter- 
 rified, instantly falls, and repairs to his infernal compeers, 
 to relate the bad success of his enterprise. Angels in the 
 mean time convey our blessed Lord to a beautiful valley, and, 
 while they minister to him a repast of celestial food, celebrate 
 his victory in a triumphant hymn. 
 
PARADISE REGAINED, 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 PERPLEX'D and troubled at his bad success, 
 The tempter stood, nor had what to reply, 
 Discover'd in his fraud, thrown from his hope 
 So oft, and the persuasive rhetoric 
 That sleek'd his tongue, and won so much on Eve. 
 So little here, nay, lost: but Eve was Eve; 
 This far his over-match, who, self-deceiv'd 
 And rash, beforehand had no better weigh' d 
 The strength he was to cope with, or his own; 
 But as a man, who had been matchless held 
 In cunning over- reached where least he thought, 
 To salve his credit, and for very spite, 
 Still will be tempting him who foils him still, 
 And never cease, though to his shame the more; 
 Or as a swarm of flies in vintage time, 
 About the wine-press where sweet must is pour'd, 
 Beat off, returns as oft with humming sound; 
 Or surging waves against a solid rock, 
 Though all to shivers dash'd, the assault renew, 
 (Vain battery!) and in froth or bubbles end; 
 So Satan, whom repulse upon repulse 
 
440 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Met ever, and to shameful silence brought, 
 
 Yet gives not over, though desperate of success, 
 
 And his vain importunity pursues. 
 
 He brought our Saviour to the western side 
 
 Of that high mountain, whence he might behold 
 
 Another plain, long, but in breadth not wide, 
 
 Wash'd by the southern sea, and, on the north, 
 
 To equal length back'd with a ridge of hills [men, 
 
 That screen'd the fruits of the earth, and seats of 
 
 From cold Septentrion blasts; thence in the midst 
 
 Divided by a river, of whose banks 
 
 On each side an imperial city stood, 
 
 With towers and temples proudly elevate 
 
 On seven small hills, with palaces adorn'd, 
 
 Porches, and theatres, baths, aqueducts, 
 
 Statues, and trophies, and triumphal arcs, 
 
 Gardens, and groves, presented to his eyes, 
 
 Above the height of mountains interpos'd: 
 
 (By what strange parallax, or optic skill 
 
 Of vision, multiplied through air, or glass 
 
 Of telescope, were curious to inquire:) 
 
 And now the tempter thus his silence broke: 
 
 " The city, which thou seest, no other deem 
 Than great and glorious Rome, queen of the earth, 
 So far renown'd, and with the spoils enrich'd 
 Of nations; there the Capitol thou seest, 
 Above the rest lifting his stately head 
 On the Tarpeian rock, her citadel 
 Impregnable; and there Mount Palatine, 
 The imperial palace, compass huge, and high 
 The structure, skill of noblest architects, 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 441 
 
 With gilded battlements conspicuous far, 
 
 Turrets, and terraces, and glittering spires: 
 
 Many a fair edifice besides, more like 
 
 Houses of gods, (so well I have dispos'd 
 
 My airy telescope,) thou may'st behold, 
 
 Outside and inside both, pillars and roofs, 
 
 Carv'd work, the hand of fam'd artificers, 
 
 In cedar, marble, ivory, or gold. 
 
 Thence to the gates cast round thine eye, and see 
 
 What conflux issuing forth, or entering in; 
 
 Praetors, pro-consuls to their provinces 
 
 Hasting, or on return, in robes of state, 
 
 Lictors and rods, the ensigns of their power, 
 
 Legions and cohorts, turrus of horse and wings: 
 
 Or embassies from regions far remote, 
 
 In various habits, on the Appian road, 
 
 Or on the Emilian: some from farthest south, 
 
 Syene, and where the shadow both way falls, 
 
 Meroe, Nilotic isle; and, more to west, 
 
 The realm of Bocchus to the Black-moor sea; 
 
 From the Asian kings, and Parthian among these: 
 
 From India and the golden Chersonese, 
 
 And utmost Indian isle Taprobane, 
 
 Dusk faces with white silken turbans wreath'd; 
 
 From Gallia, Gades, and the British west; 
 
 Germans, and Scythians, and Sarmatians, north 
 
 Beyond Danubius to the Tauric pool. 
 
 All nations now to Home obedience pay; 
 
 To Rome's great emperor, whose wide domain, 
 
 In ample territory, wealth, and power, 
 
 Civility of manners, arts, and arms, 
 
4:42 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 And long renown, thou justly may's t prefer 
 
 Before the Parthian. These two thrones except, 
 
 The rest are barbarous, and scarce worth the sight, 
 
 Shared among petty kings too far remov'd. 
 
 These having shown thee, I have shown thee all 
 
 The kingdoms of the world, and all their glory. 
 
 This emperor hath no son, and now is old, 
 
 Old and lascivious, and from Rome retir'd 
 
 To Caprse, an island small, but strong, 
 
 On the Campanian shore, with purpose there 
 
 His horrid lusts in private to enjoy; 
 
 Committing to a wicked favourite 
 
 All public cares, and yet of him suspicious: 
 
 Hated of all, and hating. With what ease, 
 
 Endued with regal virtues, as thou art, 
 
 Appearing, and beginning noble deeds, 
 
 Mightst thou expel this monster from his throne, 
 
 Now made a stye; and, in his place ascending, 
 
 A victor people free from servile yoke ! 
 
 And with my help thou may'st; to me the power 
 
 Is given, and by that right I give it thee. 
 
 Aim therefore at no less than all the world; 
 
 Aim at the highest: without the highest attain'd, 
 
 Will be for thee no sitting, or not long, 
 
 On David's throne, be prophesied what will." 
 
 To whom the Son of God, unmov'd, replied: 
 "Nor doth this grandeur and majestic show 
 Of luxury, though call'd magnificence, 
 More than of arms before, allure mine eye, [tell 
 Much less my mind; though thou should'st add to 
 Their sumptuous gluttonies, and gorgeous feasts 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 443 
 
 On citron tables or Atlantic stone, 
 
 (For I have also heard, perhaps have read;) 
 
 Their wines of Letia, Gales, and Falerne, 
 
 Chios, and Crete, and how they quaff in gold, 
 
 Crystal, and myrrhine cups, emboss'd with gems 
 
 And studs of pearl: tome should'st tell, who thirst 
 
 And hunger still. Then embassies thou show'st 
 
 From nations far and nigh: what honour that, 
 
 But tedious waste of time, to sit and hear 
 
 So many hollow compliments and lies, 
 
 Outlandish flatteries? Then proceed'st to talk 
 
 Of the emperor, how easily subdued, 
 
 How gloriously: I shall, thou say'st, expel 
 
 A brutish monster; what if I withal 
 
 Expel a devil who first made him such? 
 
 Let his tormentor conscience find him out; 
 
 For him I was not sent, nor yet to free 
 
 That people, victor once, now vile and base; 
 
 Deservedly made vassal; who, once just, 
 
 Frugal, and mild, and temperate, conquer'd well, 
 
 But govern ill the nations under yoke, 
 
 Peeling their provinces, exhausted all 
 
 By lust and rapine; first ambitious grown 
 
 Of triumph, that insulting vanity: 
 
 Then cruel, by their sports to blood inured 
 
 Of fighting beasts, and men to beasts expos'd; 
 
 Luxurious by their wealth, and greedier still, 
 
 And from the daily scene effeminate. 
 
 What wise and valiant man would seek to free 
 
 These, thus degenerate, by themselves enslav'd? 
 
 Or could of inward slaves make outward free? 
 
444 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Know, therefore, when my season comes to sit 
 On David's throne, it shall be like a tree 
 Spreading and overshadowing all the earth; 
 Or as a stone, that shall to pieces dash 
 All monarchies besides throughout the world; 
 And of my kingdom there shall be no end : 
 Means there shall be to this; but what the means, 
 Is not for thee to know, nor me to tell." 
 
 To whom the tempter, impudent, replied: 
 " I see all offers made by me how slight 
 Thou valuest, because offer'd, and reject'st: 
 Nothing will please the difficult and nice, 
 Or nothing more than still to contradict: 
 On the other side, know also thou, that I 
 On what I offer set as high esteem, 
 Nor what I part with mean to give for nought; 
 All these, which in a moment thou behold'st, 
 The kingdoms of the world, to thee I give, 
 (For, given to me, I give to whom I please,) 
 No trifle; yet with this reserve, not else, 
 On this condition; if thou wilt fall down, 
 And worship me as thy superior lord, 
 (Easily done,) and hold them all of me; 
 For what can less so great a gift deserve?" 
 
 Whom thus our Saviour answer'd with disdain: 
 " I never lik'd thy talk, thy offers less; 
 Now both abhor, since thou hast dar'd to utter 
 The abominable terms, impious condition : 
 But I endure the time, till which expir'd 
 Thou hast permission on me. It is written, [ship 
 The first of all commandments, ' Thou shalt wor- 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 445 
 
 The Lord thy God, and only him shalt serve:' 
 And dar'st thou to the Son of God propound 
 To worship thee accurs'd? now more accurs'd 
 For this attempt, bolder than that on Eve, 
 And more blasphemous; which expect to rue. 
 The kingdoms of the world to thee were given ? 
 Permitted rather, and by thee usurp'd; 
 Other donation none thou canst produce. 
 If given, by whom but by the King of kings, 
 God over all supreme ? If given to thee, 
 By thee how fairly is the Giver now 
 Repaid! But gratitude in thee is lost 
 Long since. Wert thou so void of fear or shame, 
 As offer them to me, the Son of God ? 
 To me my own, on such abhorred pact, 
 That I fall down and worship thee as God? 
 Get thee behind me; plain thou now appear'st 
 That Evil One, Satan for ever damn'd." 
 
 To whom the fiend, with fear abash'd, replied : 
 " Be not so sore offended, Son of God, 
 Though sons of God both angels are and men, 
 If I, to try whether in higher sort 
 Than these thou bear'st that title, have propos'd 
 What both from men and angels I receive, 
 Tetrarchs of fire, air, flood, and on the earth, 
 Nations besides from all the quarter'd winds, 
 God of this world invok'd, and world beneath: 
 Who then thou art, whose coming is foretold 
 To me most fatal, me it most concerns; 
 The trial hath indamag'd thee no way, 
 Rather more honour left and more esteem; 
 
446 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Me nought advantag'd, missing what I aim'd. 
 
 Therefore let pass, as they are transitory, 
 
 The kingdoms of this world; I shall no more 
 
 Advise thee; gain them as thou canst, or not. 
 
 And thou thyself seem'st otherwise inclin'd 
 
 Than to a worldly crown; addicted more 
 
 To contemplation and profound dispute; 
 
 As by that early action may be judg'd, 
 
 When, slipping from thy mother's eye, thou went'sc 
 
 Alone into the temple; there wast found 
 
 Among the gravest rabbis, disputant 
 
 On points and questions fitting Moses' chair, 
 
 Teaching, not taught. The childhood shows the 
 
 As morning shows the day: be famous then [man, 
 
 By wisdom; as thy empire must extend, 
 
 So let extend thy mind o'er all the world 
 
 In knowledge, all things in it comprehend. 
 
 All knowledge is not couch'd in Moses' law, 
 
 The Pentateuch, or what the Prophets wrote; 
 
 The Gentiles also know, and write, and teach 
 
 To admiration, led by Nature's light, 
 
 And with the Gentiles much thou must converse, 
 
 Ruling them by persuasion, as thou mean'st. 
 
 Without their learning, how wilt thou with them, 
 
 Or they with thee, hold conversation meet ? 
 
 How wilt thou reason with them, how refute 
 
 Their idolisms, traditions, paradoxes? 
 
 Error by his own arms is best evinc'd. 
 
 Look once more, ere we leave this specular mount, 
 
 Westward, much nearer by southwest, behold; 
 
 Where on the .ZEgean shore a city stands, 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 447 
 
 Built nobly, pure the air, and light the soil; 
 
 Athens, the eye of Greece, mother of arts 
 
 And eloquence, native to famous wits 
 
 Or hospitable, in her sweet recess, 
 
 City or suburban, studious walks and shades. 
 
 See there the olive grove of Academe, 
 
 Plato's retirement, where the Attic bird 
 
 Trills her thick-warbled notes the summer long; 
 
 There flowery hill Hymettus, with the sound 
 
 Of bees' industrious murmur, oft invites 
 
 To studious musing; there Ilissus rolls 
 
 His whispering stream: within the walls then view 
 
 The schools of ancient sages; his, who bred 
 
 Great Alexander to subdue the world, 
 
 Lyceum there, and painted Stoa next: 
 
 There shalt thou hear and learn the secret power 
 
 Of harmony, in tones and numbers hit 
 
 By voice or hand; and various measur'd verse, 
 
 jEolian charms and Dorian lyric odes, 
 
 And his who gave them breath, but higher sung, 
 
 Blind Melesigenes, thence Homer call'd, 
 
 Whose poem Phoebus challeng'd for his own; 
 
 Thence what the lofty grave tragedians taught 
 
 In chorus or iambic, teachers best 
 
 Of moral prudence, with delight receiv'd 
 
 In brief sententious precepts, while they treat 
 
 Of fate, and chance, and change in human life, 
 
 High actions and high passions best describing: 
 
 Thence to the famous orators repair, 
 
 Those ancient, whose resistless eloquence 
 
 Wielded at will that fierce democracy, 
 
448 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Shook the arsenal, and fulmined over Greece 
 To Macedon and Artaxerxes' throne: 
 To sage Philosophy next lend thine ear, 
 From heaven descended to the low-roof d house 
 Of Socrates; see there his tenement, 
 Whom well inspired the oracle pronounced 
 Wisest of men; from whose mouth issued forth 
 Mellifluous streams, that water'd all the schools 
 Of academics old and new, with those 
 Surnamed Peripatetics, and the sect 
 Epicurean, and the Stoic severe. 
 These here revolve, or, as thou lik'st, at home, 
 Till time mature thee to a kingdom's weight: 
 These rules will render thee a king complete 
 Within thyself, much more with empire join." 
 
 To whom our Saviour sagely thus replied: 
 " Think not but that I know these things, or think 
 I know them not; not therefore am I short 
 Of knowing what I ought: he, who receives 
 Light from above, from the fountain of light, 
 No other doctrine needs, though granted true; 
 But these are false, or little else but dreams, 
 Conjectures, fancies, built on nothing firm. 
 The first and wisest of them all profess'd 
 To know this only, that he nothing knew; 
 The next to fabling fell, and smooth conceits; 
 A third sort doubted all things, though plain sense; 
 Others in virtue plac'd felicity, 
 But virtue join'd with riches and long life: 
 In corporal pleasure he, and careless ease: 
 The Stoic last in philosophic pride, 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 449 
 
 By him calFd virtue; and his virtuous man, 
 
 Wise, perfect in himself, and all possessing 
 
 Equal to God, oft shames not to prefer, 
 
 As fearing God nor man, contemning all 
 
 Wealth, pleasure, pain or torment, death and life, 
 
 Which, when he lists, he leaves, or boasts he can, 
 
 For all his tedious talk is but vain boast, 
 
 Or subtle shifts conviction to evade. 
 
 Alas ! what can they teach, and not mislead, 
 
 Ignorant of themselves, of God much more, 
 
 And how the world began, and how man fell 
 
 Degraded by himself, on grace depending? 
 
 Much of the soul they talk, but all awry, 
 
 And in themselves seek virtue, and to themselves 
 
 All glory arrogate, to God give none; 
 
 Rather accuse him under usual names, 
 
 Fortune and Fate, as one regardless quite 
 
 Of mortal things. Who therefore seeks in these 
 
 True wisdom, finds her not; or, by delusion, 
 
 Far worse, her false resemblance only meets, 
 
 An empty cloud. However, many books, 
 
 Wise men have said, are wearisome; who reads 
 
 Incessantly, and to his reading brings not 
 
 A spirit and judgment equal or superior, 
 
 (And what he brings what needs he elsewhere seek?) 
 
 Uncertain and unsettled still remains, 
 
 Deep versed in books, and shallow in himself, 
 
 Crude or intoxicate, collecting toys 
 
 And trifles for choice matters, worth a sponge; 
 
 As children gathering pebbles on the shore. 
 
 Or, if I would delight my private hours 
 
450 PARADISE REGAINED. , 
 
 With music or with poem; where, so soon 
 
 As in our native language, can I find 
 
 That solace? All our law and story strew'd 
 
 With hymns, our psalms with artful terms inscrib - 
 
 Our Hebrew songs and harps, in Babylon [ed, 
 
 That pleased so well our victors' ear, declare, 
 
 That rather Greece from us these arts deriv'd; 
 
 111 imitated, while they loudest sing 
 
 The vices of their deities, and their own, 
 
 In fable, hymn, or song, so personating 
 
 Their gods ridiculous, and themselves past shame. 
 
 Remove their swelling epithets, thick laid 
 
 As varnish on a harlot's cheek; the rest, 
 
 Thin sown with aught of profit or delight, 
 
 Will far be found unworthy to compare 
 
 With Sion's songs, to all true tastes excelling, 
 
 Where God is praised aright, and godlike men, 
 
 The Holiest of Holies, and his saints, 
 
 (Such are from God inspir'd, not such from thee,) 
 
 Unless where moral virtue is express'd 
 
 By light of Nature, not in all quite lost. 
 
 Their orators thou then extoll'st, as those 
 
 The top of eloquence; statists indeed, 
 
 And lovers of their country, as may seem; 
 
 But herein to our prophets far beneath, 
 
 As men divinely taught, and better teaching 
 
 The solid rules of civil government, 
 
 In their majestic unaffected style, 
 
 Than all the oratory of Greece and Rome. 
 
 In them is plainest taught, and easiest learn'd, 
 
 What makes a nation happy, and keeps it so; 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 451 
 
 What ruins kingdoms, and lays cities flat: 
 These only with our law best form a king." 
 
 So spake the Son of God: but Satan, now 
 Quite at a loss, (for all his darts were spent,) 
 Thus to our Saviour with stern brow replied: 
 
 " Since neither wealth nor honour, arms nor arts, 
 Kingdom nor empire pleases thee, nor aught 
 By me propos'd in life contemplative 
 Or active, tended on by glory or fame, 
 What dost thou in this world? The wilderness 
 For thee is fittest place; I found thee there, 
 And thither will return thee: yet remember 
 What I foretell thee: soon thou shalt have cause 
 To wish thou never hadst rejected, thus 
 Nicely or cautiously, my offer'd aid, 
 Which would have set thee in short time with ease 
 On David's throne, or throne of all the world, 
 Now at full age, fulness of time, thy season, 
 When prophecies of thee are best fulfill'd. 
 Now contrary, if I read aught in heaven, 
 Or heaven write aught of fate, by what the stars 
 Voluminous, or single characters, 
 In their conjunction met, give me to spell: 
 Sorrows and labours, opposition, hate 
 Attend thee, scorns, reproaches, injuries, 
 Violence and stripes, and lastly cruel death: 
 A kingdom they portend thee; but what kingdom, 
 Real or allegoric, I discern not; 
 Nor when; eternal sure, as without end, 
 Without beginning; for no date prefix'd 
 Directs me in the starry rubric set." 
 
452 PARADISE REGAINED. , 
 
 So saying, he took, (for still he knew his power 
 Not yet expir'd,) and to the wilderness 
 Brought back the Son of God, and left him there, 
 Feigning to disappear. Darkness now rose, 
 As day-light sank, and brought in lowering Night, 
 Her shadowy offspring; unsubstantial both, 
 Privation mere of light and absent day. 
 Our Saviour meek, and with untroubled mind 
 After his airy jaunt, though hurried sore, 
 Hungry and cold, betook him to his rest, 
 Wherever, under some concourse of shades, [shield 
 Whose branching arms thick intertwin'd might 
 From dews and damps of night his shelter'd head; 
 But, shelter'd, slept in vain: for at his head 
 The tempter watch'd, and soon with ugly dreams 
 Disturbed his sleep. And either tropic now 
 'Gan thunder, and both ends of heaven; the clouds, 
 From many a horrid rift, abortive pour'd 
 Fierce rain with lightning mix'd, water with fire 
 In ruin reconciled : nor slept the winds 
 Within their stony caves, but rush'd abroad 
 From the four hinges of the world, and fell 
 On the vex'd wilderness, whose tallest pines, 
 Though rooted deep as high, and sturdiest oaks, 
 Bow'd their stiff necks, loaden with stormy blasts, 
 Or torn up sheer. Ill wast thou shrouded then, 
 patient Son of God, yet only stood'st 
 Unshaken! Nor yet stay'd the terror there: 
 Infernal ghosts and hellish furies round [shriek'd, 
 Environ'd thee; some howl'd, some yell'd, some 
 Some bent at thee their fiery darts, while thou 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 453 
 
 Sat'st unappall'd in calm and sinless peace! 
 Thus passed the night so foul, till morning fair 
 Came forth, with pilgrim steps, in amice grey; 
 Who with her radiant finger stilPd the roar 
 Of thunder, chas'd the clouds, and laid the winds, 
 And grisly spectres, which the fiend had rais'd 
 To tempt the Son of God with terrors dire. 
 But now the sun with more effectual beams 
 Had cheer'd the face of earth, and dried the wet 
 From drooping plant, or dropping tree; the birds, 
 Who all things now beheld more fresh and green, 
 After a night of storm so ruinous, 
 Clear'd up their choicest notes in bush and spray, 
 To gratulate the sweet return of morn. 
 Nor yet, amidst this joy and brightest morn, 
 Was absent, after all his mischief done, 
 The Prince of Darkness; glad would also seem 
 Of this fair change, and to our Saviour came; 
 Yet with no new device (they all were spent), 
 Rather by this his last affront resolv'd, 
 Desperate of better course, to vent his rage 
 And mad despite to be so oft repell'd. 
 Him walking on a sunny hill he found, 
 Back'd on the north and west by a thick wood: 
 Out of the wood he starts in wonted shape, 
 And in a careless mood thus to him said: 
 
 " Fair morning yet betides thee, Son of God, 
 After a dismal night: I heard the wrack, 
 As earth and sky would mingle; but myself 
 Was distant; and these flaws, though mortals fear 
 As dangerous to the pillar'd frame of heaven, [them 
 i 
 
454 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Or to the earth's dark basis underneath, 
 
 Are to the main as inconsiderable 
 
 And harmless, if not wholesome, as a sneeze 
 
 To man's less universe, and soon are gone; 
 
 Yet, as being ofttimes noxious where they light 
 
 On man, beast, plant, wasteful and turbulent, 
 
 Like turbulencies in the affairs of men, 
 
 Over whose heads they roar, and seem to point, 
 
 They oft fore-signify and threaten ill: 
 
 This tempest at this desert most was bent; 
 
 Of men at thee, for only thou here dwell'st. 
 
 Did I not tell thee, if thou didst reject 
 
 The perfect season offer'd with my aid 
 
 To win thy destin'd seat, but wilt prolong 
 
 All to the push of fate, pursue thy way 
 
 Of gaining David's throne, no man knows when, 
 
 For both the when and how is nowhere told ? 
 
 Thou shalt be what thou art ordain'd, no doubt; 
 
 For angels have proclaim'd it, but concealing 
 
 The time and means. Each act is rightliest done, 
 
 Not when it must, but when it may be best: 
 
 If thou observe not this, be sure to find, 
 
 What I foretold thee, many a hard assay 
 
 Of dangers, and adversities, and pains, 
 
 Ere thou of Israel's sceptre get fast hold; 
 
 Whereof this ominous night, that clos'd thee round, 
 
 So many terrors, voices, prodigies, 
 
 May warn thee, as a sure foregoing sign." 
 
 So talk'd he ; while the Son of God went on 
 And stayed not, but in brief him answer'd thus: 
 
 " Me worse than wet thou find'st not; other harm 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 455 
 
 Those terrors, which thou speak'st of, did me none; 
 I never fear'd they could, though noising loud 
 And threatening nigh: what they can do, as signs 
 Betokening, or ill boding, I contemn 
 As false portents, not sent from God, but thee; 
 Who, knowing I shall reign past thy preventing, 
 Obtrud'st thy offer'd aid, that I, accepting, 
 At least might seem to hold all power of thee, 
 Ambitious spirit! and would'st be thought my 
 And storrn'st refus'd, thinking to terrify [God; 
 Me to thy will ! desist, (thou art discerned, 
 And toil'st in vain,) nor me in vain molest." 
 
 To whom the fiend, now swoln with rage, replied: 
 " Then hear, Son of David, virgin-born, 
 For Son of God to me is yet in doubt; 
 Of the Messiah I have heard foretold 
 By all the prophets; of thy birth at length, 
 Announc'd by Gabriel, with the first I knew, 
 And of the angelic song in Bethlehem field, 
 On thy birth-night that sung thee Saviour born. 
 From that time seldom have I ceas'd to eye 
 Thy infancy, thy childhood, and thy youth, 
 Thy manhood last, though yet in private bred; 
 Till at the ford of Jordan, whither all 
 Flock'd to the Baptist, I, among the rest, 
 (Though not to be baptiz'd,) by voice from heaven 
 Heard thee pronounc'd the Son of God belov'd. 
 Thenceforth I thought thee worth my nearer view 
 And narrower scrutiny, that I might learn 
 In what degree or meaning thou art call'd 
 The Son of God; which bears no single sense. 
 
456 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 The son of God I also am, or was; 
 
 And if I was, I am; relation stands: 
 
 All men are sons of God; yet thee I thought 
 
 In some respect far higher so declar'd : 
 
 Therefore I watch'd thy footsteps from that hour, 
 
 And follow'd thee still on to this waste wild, 
 
 Where, by all best conjectures, I collect 
 
 Thou art to be my fatal enemy: 
 
 Good reason then, if I beforehand seek 
 
 To understand my adversary, who 
 
 And what he is; his wisdom, power, intent; 
 
 By parl or composition, truce or league, 
 
 To win him, or win from him what I can: 
 
 And opportunity I here have had 
 
 To try thee, sift thee, and confess have found thee 
 
 Proof against all temptation, as a rock 
 
 Of adamant, and, as a centre, firm; 
 
 To the utmost of mere man both wise and good, 
 
 Not more; for honours, riches, kingdoms, glory, 
 
 Have been before contemn'd, and may again. 
 
 Therefore, to know what more thou art than man, 
 
 Worth naming Son of God by voice from heaven, 
 
 Another method I must now begin." 
 
 So saying, he caught him up, and without wing 
 Of hippogrif, bore through the air sublime, 
 Over the wilderness and o'er the plain, 
 Till underneath them fair Jerusalem, 
 The holy city, lifted high her towers, 
 And higher yet the glorious temple rear'd 
 Her pile, far off appearing like a mount 
 Of alabaster, topp'd with golden spires: 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 457 
 
 There, on the highest pinnacle, he set 
 The Son of God; and added thus in scorn : 
 
 " There stand, if thou wilt stand; to stand up- 
 Will ask thee skill: I to thy Father's house [right 
 Have brought thee, and highest plac'd: highest is 
 Now show thy progeny; if not to stand, [best: 
 Cast thyself down; safely, if Son of God: 
 For it is written, ' He will give command 
 Concerning thee to his angels, in their hands 
 They shall uplift thee, lest at any time 
 Thou chance to dash thy foot against a stone. 
 
 To whom thus Jesus: " Also it is written, 
 < Tempt not the Lord thy God.' " He said, and 
 But Satan, smitten with amazement, fell, [stood, 
 As when earth's son, Antaeus, (to compare 
 Small things with greatest,) in Irassa strove 
 With Jove's Alcides, and oft foil'd, still rose, 
 Receiving from his mother Earth new strength, 
 Fresh from his fall, and fiercer grapple join'd, 
 Throttled at length in th' air, expir'd and fell; 
 So, after many a foil, the tempter proud, 
 Renewing fresh assaults, amidst his pride, 
 Fell whence he stood to see his victor fall: 
 And as that Theban monster, that propos'd 
 Her riddle, and him who solv'd it not devour'd, 
 That once found out and solv'd, for grief and spite 
 Cast herself headlong from th' Ismenian steep; 
 So, struck with dread and anguish, fell the fiend, 
 And to his crew, that sat consulting, brought 
 (Joyless triumphals of his hop'd success), 
 Ruin, and desperation, and dismay, 
 
458 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Who durst so proudly tempt the Son of God. 
 So Satan fell: and straight a fiery globe 
 Of angels on full sail of wing flew nigh, 
 Who on their plumy vans receiv'd him soft 
 From his uneasy station, and upbore, 
 As on a floating couch, through the blithe air; 
 Then, in a flowery valley, set him down 
 On a green bank, and set before him spread 
 A table of celestial food, divine 
 Ambrosial fruits, fetch'd from the tree of life, 
 And, from the fount of life, ambrosial drink, 
 That soon refresh'd him wearied, and repair'd 
 What hunger, if aught hunger, had impair'd, 
 Or thirst; and, as he fed, angelic quires 
 Sung heavenly anthems of his victory 
 Over temptation and the tempter proud: 
 
 " True image of the Father; whether thron'd 
 In the bosom of bliss, and light of light 
 Conceiving, or, remote from heaven, enshrin'd 
 In fleshly tabernacle, and human form, 
 Wandering the wilderness; whatever place, 
 Habit, or state, or motion, still expressing 
 The Son of God, with godlike force endued 
 Against the attempter of thy Father's throne, 
 And thief of Paradise ! Him long of old 
 Thou didst debel, and down from heaven cast 
 With all his army; now thou hast aveng'd 
 Supplanted Adam, and, by vanquishing 
 Temptation, hast regain'd lost Paradise, 
 And frustrated the conquest fraudulent. 
 He never more henceforth will dare set foot 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 409 
 
 In Paradise to tempt; his snares are broke; 
 For, though that seat of earthly bliss be fail'd, 
 A fairer paradise is founded now 
 For Adam and his chosen sons, whom thou, 
 A Saviour, art come down to reinstall, 
 Where they shall dwell secure, when time shall bfe, 
 Of tempter and temptation without fear. 
 But thou, infernal serpent ! shalt not long 
 Rule in the clouds; like an autumnal star, 
 Or lightning, thou shalt fall from heaven, trod down 
 Under his feet: for proof, ere this thou feel'st 
 Thy wound, (yet not thy last and deadliest wound,) 
 By this repulse receiv'd, and hold'st in hell 
 No triumph: in all her gates Abaddon rues 
 Thy bold attempt. Hereafter learn with awe 
 To dread the Son of God: he, all unarm'd, 
 Shall chase thee with the terror of his voice 
 From thy demoniac holds, possession foul, 
 Thee and thy legions; yelling they shall fly, 
 And beg to hide them in a herd of swine, 
 Lest he command them down into the deep, 
 Bound, and to torment sent before their time. 
 Hail, Son of the Most High, heir of both worlds, 
 Queller of Satan! on thy glorious work, 
 Now enter; and begin to save mankind." 
 
 Thus they the Son of God, our Saviour meek, 
 Sung victor, and, from heavenly feast refresh'd, 
 Brought on his way with joy; he, unobserv'd, 
 Home to his mother's house private return'd. 
 
 THE END OF PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES: 
 
 A DRAMATIC POEM. 
 
THE PERSONS. 
 
 SAMSON. 
 
 MANOAH, the Father of 
 
 Samson. 
 DALILA, his wife. 
 
 HARAPHA of Gath. 
 Public Officer. 
 Messenger. 
 Chorus of Danites. 
 
 The scene before the prison in Gaza. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Samson, made captive, blind, and now in the prison oj Gaza, 
 there to labour as in a common workhouse, on a festival day, 
 in the general cessation from labour, comes forth into the 
 open air, to a place nigh, somewhat retired, there to sit 
 awhile and bemoan his condition. Where lie happens at 
 length to be visited by certain friends and equals of his tribe, 
 which make the Chorus, who seek to comfort him what they 
 can; then by his old father Manoah, who endeavours the 
 like, and withal tells him his purpose to procure his liberty 
 
 J I \Jlll, l/C/e /C-U/yi/U/d VJ kJUilllWIliy WfMiGn 
 
 dfanoah then departs to prosecute his endeavour with the 
 Philistine lords for Samson's redemption; who in the mean 
 ivhile is visited by other persons; and lastly by a public offi- 
 cer, to require his coming to the feast before the lords and 
 people, to play or show his strength in their presence; he at 
 first refuses, dismissing the public officer with absolute denial 
 to come; at length, persuaded inwardly that this was from 
 God, he yields to go along with him, who came now the second 
 time with great threatenings to fetch him: the Cliorus yet re- 
 maining on the place, Manoah returns full of joyful hope, 
 to procure ere Long his son's deliverance: in the midst of 
 which discourse a Hebrew comes in haste, confusedly at 
 first, and afterwards more distinctly, relating the catastro- 
 phe, what Samson had done to the Philistines, and by acci- 
 dent to himself, wherewith the tragedy ends. 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 SAMSON (Attendant leading Mm). 
 
 A LITTLE onward lend thy guiding hand 
 To these dark steps, a little farther on; 
 For yonder bank hath choice of sun or shade: 
 There I am wont to sit, when any chance 
 Eelieves me from my task of servile toil, 
 Daily in the common prison else enjoin'd me, 
 Where I, a prisoner chain' d, scarce freely draw 
 The air, imprison'd also; close and damp, 
 Unwholesome draught: but here I feel amends, 
 The breath of heaven fresh blowing, pure and sweet, 
 With^ day-spring born; here leave me to respire. 
 This day a solemn feast the people hold 
 To Dagon their sea-idol, and forbid 
 Laborious works; unwillingly this rest 
 Their superstition yields me; hence, with leave, 
 Retiring from the popular noise, I seek 
 This unfrequented place to find some ease; 
 Ease to my body some, none to the mind 
 From restless thoughts, that like a deadly swarm 
 Of ^hornets arm'd, no sooner founXalone^ "^v 
 
464 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 But rush upon me, thronging, and present- 
 Times past, what once I was, and what am now. 
 wherefore was my birth from heaven foretold 
 Twice by an angel, who at last, in sight 
 Of both my parents, all in flames ascended 
 From off the altar, where an offering burn'd, 
 As in a fiery column charioting 
 His god-like presence, and from some great act 
 Or benefit reveal'd to Abraham's race 1 
 Why was my breeding order'd and prescribed, 
 As of a person separate to God, 
 Design'd for great exploits, if I must die, 
 Betray'd, captived, and both my eyes put out, 
 Made of my enemies the scorn and gaze; 
 To grind in brazen fetters, under task, 
 With this heaven-gifted strength? glorious 
 Put to the labour of a beast, debased [strength, 
 Lower than bond-slave ! Promise was, that I 
 Should Israel from Philistian yoke deliver: 
 Ask for this great deliverer now, and find him 
 Eyeless in Gaza, at the mill with slaves, 
 Himself in bonds, under Philistian yoke: 
 Yet stay; let me not rashly call in doubt 
 Divine prediction: what if all foretold 
 Had been fulfill'd but through mine own default, 
 Whom have I to complain of but myself? 
 Who this high gift of strength committed to me, 
 In what part lodged, how easily bereft me, 
 Under the seal of silence could not keep, 
 But weakly to a woman must reveal it, 
 O'ercome with importunity and tears. 
 
! 
 
 SAMSON AGONISTES. 465 
 
 impotence of mind, in body strong ! 
 
 But what is strength without a double share 
 
 Of wisdom? vast, unwieldy, burdensome, 
 
 Proudly secure, yet liable to fall, 
 
 By weakest subtleties; not made to rule, 
 
 But to subserve where wisdom bears command! 
 
 God, when he gave me strength, to show withal 
 
 How slight the gift was, hung it in my hair. 
 
 : But peace; I must not quarrel with the will 
 Of highest dispensation, which herein 
 Haply had ends above my reach to know: 
 Suffices that to me strength is my bane, 
 
 5 And proves the source of all my miseries; 
 So many, and so huge, that each apart 
 Would ask a life .tojgajl; but chief of all, 
 loss'oTsight, of thee I most complain ! 
 Blind among enemies, worse than chains, 
 Dungeon, or beggary, or decrepit age ! 
 Light, the prime work of God, to me is extinct, 
 And all her various objects of delight 
 Annull'd, which might in part my grief have 
 Inferior to the vilest now becomfe [eased, 
 
 Of man or worm; the vilest here excel me: 
 They creep, yet see; I, dark in light, exposed 
 To daily fraud, contempt, abuse, and wrong, 
 Within doors, or without, still as a fool, 
 In power of others, never in my own; 
 Scarce half I seem to live, dead more than half. 
 dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of moon, 
 Irrecoverably dark, total eclipse, 
 
 Without all hope of day! 
 
 2 G 
 
466 
 
 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 first created beam, and thou great Word, 
 " Let there be light, and light was over all;" 
 Why am I thus bereaved my prime decree? 
 /The sun to me is dark, 
 [uLnd silent as the moon, 
 i^hen she deserts the night, 
 Hid in her vacant interlunar cave. 
 Since light so necessary is to life, 
 And almost life itself, if it be true 
 That light is in the soul, 
 She all in every part; why was the sight 
 To such a tender ball as the eye confined, 
 So obvious and so easy to be quench'd? 
 And not, as feeling, through all parts diffus'd, 
 That she might look at will through every pore? 
 Then had I not been thus exiled from light, 
 VA.s in the land of darkness, yet in light, 
 To live a life half dead, a living death, 
 And buried; but, yet more miserable! 
 Myself my sepulchre, a moving grave; 
 Buried, yet not exempt, 
 By privilege of death and burial, 
 From worst of other evils, pains and wrongs; 
 But made hereby obnoxious more 
 To all the miseries of life, 
 Life in captivity 
 Among inhuman foes. 
 
 But who are these? for with joint pace I hear 
 The tread of many feet steering this way; 
 Perhaps my enemies, who come to stare 
 At my affliction, and perhaps to insult, 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Their daily practice, to afflict me more. 
 
 Enter CHORUS. 
 
 Chor. This, this is he; softly awhile; 
 Let us not break in upon him; 
 change beyond report, thought, or belief! 
 See how he lies at random, carelessly diffused, 
 With languish'd head unpropp'd, 
 As 5^U2^hP e > abandon'd, 
 And by himself given over; 
 In slavish habit, ill-fitted weeds 
 O'er- worn and soil'd; 
 
 Or do my eyes misrepresent 1 Can this be he, 
 That heroic, that renown'd, 
 
 Irresistible Samson? whom unarm'd [withstand; 
 No strength of man, or fiercest wild beast could 
 Who tore the lion, as the lion tears the kid; 
 Ran on embattled armies clad in iron; 
 And, weaponless himself, 
 Made arms ridiculous, useless the forgery 
 Of brazen shield and spear, the hammer'd cuirass, 
 Chalybean temper'd steel, and frock of mail, 
 Adamantean proof? 
 But safest he who stood aloof, 
 When insupportably his foot advanced, 
 In scorn of their proud arms and warlike tools, 
 Spurn'd them to death by troops. The bold Ascalo- 
 Fled from his lion ramp; old warriors turn'd [nite 
 Their plated backs under his heel; [dust. 
 
 Or, grovelling, soil'd their crested helmets in the 
 Then, with what trivial weapon came to hand, 
 
468 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 The jaw of a dead ass, his sword of bone, 
 A thousand fore- skins fell, tl^flowerjof^J^stifte^ 
 In Ramath-lechi, famous to this day. [bore 
 
 Then by main force pull'd up, and on his shoulders 
 The gates of Azza, post, and massy bar, 
 i | i Up to the hill by Hebron, seat of giants old, 
 No journey of a Sabbath-day, and loaded so; 
 Like whom the Gentiles feign to bear up heaven. 
 Which shall I first bewail, 
 Thy bondage or lost sight, 
 Prison^within prison^ 
 Inseparably"dark ? 
 
 /Thou art become (0 worst imprisonment !) 
 VThe dungeon of thyself; thy soul, 
 (Which men enjoying sight oft without cause com- 
 Imprison'd now indeed, [plain,) 
 
 In real darkness of the body dwells, 
 Shut up from outward light 
 To incorporate with gloomy night; 
 For inward light, alas ! 
 Puts forth no visual beam. 
 mirror of our fickle state, 
 Since man on earth unparallel'd, 
 The rarer thy example stands, 
 By how much from the top of wondrous glory, 
 Strongest of mortal men, 
 
 To lowest pitch of abject fortune thou art fallen. 
 For him I reckon not in high estate, 
 Whom long descent of birth, 
 Or the sphere of fortune raises; [mate. 
 
 But thee, whose strength, while virtue was her 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 469 
 
 Might have subdued the earth, 
 Universally crown'd with highest praises. 
 
 Sam. I hear the sound of words; their sense the 
 Dissolves unjointed ere it reach my ear. [air 
 
 ""TJforTTHe speaks: let us draw nigh. Matchless 
 The glory late of Israel, now the grief; [in might, 
 We come, thy friends and neighbours not unknown, 
 From Eshtaol and Zora's fruitful vale, 
 To visit or bewail thee; or, if better, 
 Counsel or consolation we may bring, 
 Salve to thy sores: apt words have power to 'suage 
 The tumours of a troubled mind, 
 And are as balm to festQrjJ^wounds. \ 
 
 Sam. Your coming, friends, revives me; for I 
 Now of my own experience, not by talk, [learn 
 How counterfeit a coin they are who friends 
 Bear in their superscription: (of the most 
 I would be understood:) in prosperous days r\ 'i* 
 They swarm, but in adverse withdraw their heact, 
 Not to be found, though sought. Ye see, friends, 
 How many evils have enclosed me round; 
 Yet that which was the worst now least afflicts me, 
 Blindness; for had I sight, confused with shame, 
 How could I once look up, or heave the head, 
 Who, like a foolish pilot, have shipwreck'd 
 My vessel trusted to me from above, 
 Gloriously rigg'd; and for a word, a tear, 
 Fool ! have divulged the secret gift of God 
 To a deceitful woman? tell me, friends, 
 Am I not sung and proverb'd for a fool 
 In every street? do they not say, how well 
 
470 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Are come upon him his deserts 1 yet why] 
 Immeasurable strength they might behold 
 In me, of wisdom nothing more than mean; 
 This with the other should, at least, have pair'd; 
 These two, proportioned ill, drove me transverse 
 
 Chor. Tax not Divine disposal; wisest men 
 Have err'd, and by bad women been deceived; 
 And shall again, pretend they ne'er so wise. 
 Deject not then so overmuch thyself, 
 Who hast of sorrow thy full load besides : 
 Yet truth to say, I oft have heard men wonder 
 Why thou should'st wed Philistian women rather 
 Than of thine own tribe fairer, or as fair, 
 At least of thy own nation, and as noble. 
 
 Sam. The first I saw at Timna, and she pleased 
 Me, not my parents, that I sought to wed 
 The daughter of an infidel: they knew not 
 That what I motion'd was of God; I knew 
 From intimate impulse, and therefore urged 
 The marriage on; that by occasion hence 
 I might begin Israel's deliverance, 
 The work to which I was divinely call'd. 
 She proving false, the next I took to wife, 
 (0 that I never had ! fond wish too late !) 
 Was in the vale of Sorec, Dalila, 
 That specious monster, my accomplish'd snare. 
 I thought it lawful from my former act, 
 And the same end; still watching to oppress 
 Israel's oppressors: of what now I suffer, 
 She was not the prime cause, but I myself, [ness !) 
 Who, vanquish'd with a peal of words, (0 weak- 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 471 
 
 Gave up myjforj^,silejice to a woman. 
 
 Chor. In seeking just occasion to provoke 
 The Philistine, thy country's enemy, 
 Thou never wast remiss, I bear thee witness: 
 Yet Israel still serves with all his sons. 
 
 Sam. That fault I take not on me, but transfer 
 On Israel's governors and heads of tribes, 
 Who, seeing those great acts which God had done 
 Singly by me against their conquerors, 
 Acknowledged not, or not at all consider'd 
 Deliverance offer'd: I, on the other side, 
 Used no ambition to commend my deeds; [doer; 
 The 'deeds themselves, though mute, spoke loud the 
 But they persisted deaf, and would not seem 
 To count them things worth notice, till at length 
 Their lords the Philistines, with gather'd powers, 
 Enter'd Judea seeking me, who then 
 Safe to the rock of Etham was retired; 
 Not flying, but fore-casting in what place 
 To set upon them, what advantaged best: 
 Meanwhile the men of Judah, to prevent 
 The harass of their land, beset me round: 
 I willingly on some conditions came 
 Into their hands, and they as gladly yield me 
 To the uncircumcised a welcome prey, [threads 
 Bound with two cords; but cords to me were 
 Touch'd with the flame: on their wTToTe host I flew 
 Uann'd, and with a trivial weapon fell'd 
 Their choicest youth; they only lived who fled. 
 Had Judah that day join'd, or one whole tribe, 
 They had by this possessed the towers of Gath, 
 
472 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 And lorded over them whom they now serve: 
 But what more oft, in nations grown corrupt, 
 And by their vices brought to servitude, 
 Than to love bondage more than liberty, 
 Bondage with ease than strenuous liberty; 
 And to despise, or envy, or suspect 
 Whom God hath of his special favour rais'd 
 As their deliverer? if he aught begin, 
 How frequent to desert him, and at last 
 To heap ingratitude on worthiest deeds? 
 
 Chor. Thy words to my remembrance bring 
 How Succoth and the fort of Penuel 
 Their great deliverer contemned, 
 The matchless Gideon, in pursuit 
 Of Madian and her vanquish'd kings: 
 And how ingrateful Ephraim 
 Had dealt with Jephthah, who by argument, 
 Not worse than by his shield and spear, 
 Defended Israel from the Ammonite, 
 Had not his prowess quell'd their pride 
 In that sore battle, when so many died 
 Without reprieve, adjudged to death, 
 For want of well pronouncing Shibboleth. 
 
 Sam. Of such examples add me to the roll; 
 Me easily indeed mine may neglect, 
 But God's proposed deliverance not so. 
 
 Chor. Just are the ways of God, 
 And justifiable to men; 
 Unless there be, who think not God at all: 
 If any be, they walk obscure; 
 For of such doctrine never was there school, 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 473 j 
 
 But the heart of the fool, '"""v 
 
 And no man therein doctor but himseHr-' 
 
 Yet more there be who doubt his ways not just, 
 As to his own edicts found contradicting, 
 Then give the reins to wandering thought, 
 Regardless of his glory's diminution; 
 Till, by their own perplexities involved, 
 They ravel morje, still less resolved, 
 But never find self-satisfying solution. 
 
 As if they would confine the Interminable, 
 And tie him to his own prescript, 
 Who made our laws to bind us, not himself, 
 And hath full right to exempt 
 Whom so it pleases him by choice 
 From national obstriction, without taint 
 Of sin, or legal debt; 
 For with his own laws he can best dispense. 
 
 He would not else, who never wanted means, 
 Nor in respect of the enemy just cause, 
 To set his people free, 
 Have prompted this heroic Nazarite, 
 Against his vow of strictest purity, 
 To seek in marriage that fallacious bride, 
 Unclean, unchaste. 
 
 Down, reason, then; at least, vain reasonings, 
 Though reason here aver, [down; 
 
 That moral verdict quits her of unclean: 
 Unchaste was subsequent; her stain, not his. 
 
 But see, here comes thy reverend sire 
 With careful step, locks white as down, 
 Old Manoah: advise 
 
474 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Forthwith how thou ought'st to receive him. 
 
 Sam. Ay me! another inward grief, awaked 
 With mention of that name, renews the assault. 
 
 Enter MANOAH. 
 
 Man. Brethren and men of Dan, for such ye seem, 
 Though in this uncouth place; if old respect, 
 As I suppose, towards your once gloried friend, 
 My son, now captive, hither hath inform'd 
 Your younger feet, while mine cast back with age 
 Came lagging after; say, if he be here. 
 
 Chor. {AsjBignal now in low dejected state, 
 As erst in hig]j$fet, behold him where he lies. 
 
 Man. miserable change ! is this the man, 
 That invincible Samson, far renown'd, 
 The dread of Israel's foes, who with~aj3 trench 
 equivalent to angels, walk'd their streets, 
 (Tone offering fight; who single combatant 
 )uell'd their armies rank'd in proud array, 
 limself an army; now unequal match 
 FcTsave himself against a coward arm'd 
 At one spear's length! ever-failing trust 
 In mortal strength! and 0, what not in man 
 Deceivable and vain? Nay, what thing good, 
 Pray'd for, but often proves our woe, our bane? 
 I pray'd for children, and thought barrenness 
 In wedlock a reproach; I gain'd a son, 
 And such a son as all men hail'd me happy; 
 Who would be now a father in my stead 1 
 wherefore did God grant me my request, 
 And, as a blessing, with such pomp adorn'cU 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 475 
 
 Why are his gifts desirable to tempt 
 
 Our earnest prayers, then, given with solemn hand, 
 
 As grajsfiSMka^a-j.coJ'piQn'g ...tail behind? 
 
 For this did the angel twice descend? for this 
 
 Ordain'd thy nurture holy, as of a^plant 
 
 Select and sacred, glorious for a while, 
 
 The miracle of men; then in ai* hour 
 
 Ensnar'd, assaulted, overcome, led bound, 
 
 Thy foes' derision, captive, poor, and blind, 
 
 Into a dungeon thrust, to work with slaves? 
 
 Alas ! methinks whom God hath chosen once 
 
 To worthiest deeds, if he through frailty err, 
 
 He should not so o'erwhelm, and as a thrall 
 
 Subject him to so foul indignities, 
 
 Be it but for honour's sake of former deeds. 
 
 Sam. Appoint not heavenly disposition, father: 
 Nothing of all these evils hath befallen me 
 But justly; I myself have brought them on, 
 Sole author I, sole cause: if aught seem vile, 
 As vile hath been my folly, who have profaned 
 The mystery of God given me under pledge 
 Of vow, and have betray'd it to a woman, 
 A Canaanite, my faithless enemy. 
 This well I knew, nor was at all surpris'd, 
 But warn'd by oft experience: did not she 
 Of Timna first betray me, and reveal 
 The secret wrested from me in her height 
 Of nuptial love profess'd, carrying it straight 
 To them who had corrupted her, my spies 
 And rivals? In this other was there found 
 More faith, who also in her prime of love, 
 
476 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Spousal embraces, vitiated with gold, 
 Though offer'd only, by the scent conceived 
 Hei^purjoTjflJ^ me ? 
 
 Thrice she assay'd, with flattering prayers and 
 And amorous reproaches, to win from me [sighs, 
 My capital secret, in what part my strength 
 Lay stored, in what part summ'd, that she might 
 Thrice I deluded her, and turn'd to sport [know; 
 Her importunity, each time perceiving 
 How openly, and with what impudence 
 She purposed to betray me; and (which was worse 
 Than undissembled hate) with what contempt 
 She sought to make me traitor to myself: 
 Yet the fourth time, when, mustering all her wiles, 
 With blandish'd parlies, feminine assaults, 
 Tongue^batteries, she surceased not, day nor night, 
 TPo storm me~over-watched, and wearied out, 
 At times when men seek most repose and rest, 
 I yielded, and unlock'd her all my heart, 
 Who, with a grain of manhood well resolved, 
 Might easily have shook off all her snares: 
 But foul effeminacy held me yoked 
 Her bond-slave; indignity, blot 
 To honour and religion! servile mind, 
 Rewarded well with servile punishment! 
 The base degree to which I now am fallen, 
 These rags, this grinding, is not yet so base 
 As was my former servitude, ignoble, 
 Unmanly, ignominious, infamous, 
 True slavery; and that blindness worse than this, 
 That saw not how degenerately I served. 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 47' 
 
 Man. I cannot praise thy marriage-choices, son, 
 Rather approved them not; but thou didst plead 
 Divine impulsion prompting how thou might'st 
 Find some occasion to infest our foes. 
 I state not that; this I am sure, our foes 
 Found soon occasion thereby to make thee 
 Their captive, and their triumph; thou the sooner 
 Temptation found'st, or over-potent charms, 
 To violate the sacred trust of silence 
 Deposited within thee; which to have kept 
 Tacit, was in thy power : true, and thou bear'st 
 Enough, and more, the burden of that fault ; 
 Bitterly hast thou paid, and still art paying 
 That rigid score. A worse thing yet remains : 
 This day the Philistines a popular feast 
 Here celebrate in Gaza; and proclaim 
 Great pomp, and sacrifice, and praises loud, 
 To Dagon, as their god, who hath deliver'd 
 Thee, Samson, bound and blind into their hands^ 
 Them out of thine, who slew'st them many a slain. 
 So Dagon shall be magnified, and God, 
 Besides whom is no god, compared with idols, 
 Disglorified, blasphemed, and had in scorn 
 By the idolatrous rout amidst their wine: 
 Which to have come to pass by means of thee, 
 Samson, of all thy sufferings think the heaviest, 
 Of all reproach the most with shame that ever 
 Could have befallen thee and thy father's house. 
 
 Sam. Father, I do acknowledge and confess, 
 That I this honour, I this pomp, have brought 
 To Dagon, and advanced his praises high 
 
478 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Among the heathen round; to God have brought 
 Dishonour, obloquy, and oped the mouths 
 Of idolists and atheists; have brought scandal 
 To Israel, diffidence of God, and doubt 
 In feeble hearts, propense enough before 
 To waver, or fall off and join with idols; 
 Which is my chief affliction, shame and sorrow, 
 The anguish of my soul, that suffers not 
 Mine eye to harbour sleep or thoughts to rest. 
 This only hope relieves me, that the strife 
 With me hath end; all the contest is now 
 'Twixt God and Dagon; Dagon hath presumed, 
 Me overthrown, to enter lists with God, 
 His deity comparing and preferring 
 Before the God of Abraham. He, be sure, 
 Will not connive or linger, thus provoked; 
 But will arise, and his great name assert: 
 Dagon must stoop, and shall ere long receive 
 Such a discomfit, as shall quite despoil him 
 Of all these boasted trophies won on me, 
 And with confusion blank his worshippers. 
 
 Man. With cause this hope relieves thee, and 
 I as a prophecy receive; for God, [these words 
 Nothing more certain, will not long defer 
 To vindicate the glory of his name, 
 Against all competition, nor will long 
 Endure it doubtful whether God be Lord, 
 Or Dagon. But for thee what shall be done? 
 Thou must not in the meanwhile here forgot, 
 Lie in this miserable loathsome plight, 
 Neglected. I already have made way 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 479 
 
 To some Philistian lords, with whom to treat 
 About thy ransom : well they may by this 
 Have satisfied their utmost of revenge 
 By pains and slaveries, worse than death, inflicted 
 On thee, who now no more canst do them harm. 
 
 Sam. Spare that proposal, father; spare the 
 Of that solicitation; let me here, [trouble 
 
 As I deserve, pay on my punishment, 
 And expiate, if possible, my crime, 
 Shameful garrulity. To have reveal'd 
 Secrets of men, the secrets of a friend, 
 How heinous had the fact been, how deserving 
 Contempt, and scorn of all, to be excluded 
 All friendship, and avoided as a blab, 
 The mark of fool set on his front! But I 
 God's counsel have not kept, his holy secret 
 Presumptuously have publish'd, impiously, 
 Weakly at least, and shamefully; a sin 
 That Gentiles in their parables condemn 
 To their abyss and horrid pains confined. 
 
 Man. Be penitent, and for thy fault contrite; 
 But act not in thy own affliction, son; 
 Repent the sin; but, if the punishment 
 Thou canst avoid, self-preservation bids; 
 Or the execution leave to high disposal, 
 And let another hand, not thine, exact 
 Thy penal forfeit from thyself: perhaps 
 God will relent, and quit thee all his debt; 
 Who ever more approves, and more accepts, 
 (Best pleas'd with humble and filial submission,) 
 Him, who, imploring mercy, sues for life, 
 
480 
 
 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Than who, self-rigorous, chooses death as due; 
 Which argues over-just, and self-displeased, 
 For self-offence, more than for God offended. 
 Reject not then what offer'd means, who knows 
 But God hath set before us, to return thee 
 Home to thy country, and his sacred house, 
 Where thou mayst bring thy offerings, to avert 
 His further ire, with prayers and vows renew'd? 
 
 Sam. His pardon I implore; but as for life, 
 To what end should I seek it? when in strength 
 All mortals I excell'd, and great in hopes, 
 With youthful courage, and magnanimous thoughts 
 Of birth from Heaven foretold, and high exploits 
 Full of divine instinct, after some proof 
 Of acts indeed heroic, far beyond 
 The sons of Anak, famous now and blazed ; 
 Fearless of danger, like a petty god 
 I walk'd about admired of all, and dreaded 
 On hostile ground, none daring my affront; 
 Then swollen with pride, into the snare I fell 
 Of fair fallacious looks, venereal trains, 
 Soften'd with pleasure and voluptuous life; 
 At length to lay my head and hallow'd pledge 
 Of all my strength, in the lascivious lap 
 Of a deceitful concubine, who shore me, 
 Like a tame wether, all my precious ileec^; 
 Then turn'd me out ridiculous, despoil'd, 
 Shaven, and disarm'd among mine enemies. 
 
 Ckor. Desire of wine, and all delicious drinks, 
 Which many a famous warrior overturns, 
 Thou couldst repress; nor did the dancing ruby, 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 481 
 
 Sparkling, out-pour' d, the flavour, or the smell, 
 Or taste that cheers the heart of gods and men, 
 Allure thee from the cool crystalline stream. 
 
 Sam. Wherever fountain or fresh current flow'd 
 Against the eastern ray, translucent, pure, 
 With touch ethereal of Heaven's fiery roj, 
 I drank, from the clear milky jujce allaying 
 Thirst, and refresh'd; nor envied them the grape, 
 Whose heads that turbulent liquor fills with fumes. 
 
 Chor. madness, to think use of strongest wines 
 And strongest drinks our chief support of health, 
 When God with these forbidden made choice to 
 His mighty champion, strong above compare, [rear 
 Whose drink was only from the liquid brook. 
 
 Sam. But what avail'd this temperance, not 
 -Against another object more enticing? [complete 
 f vvhat boots it at one gate to make defence, 
 \And at another to let in the foe, 
 
 Effeminately vanquish'd? by which means, 
 
 Now blind, dishearten'd, shamed, dishonour'd, 
 
 To what can I be useful, wherein serve [quell'd, 
 
 My nation, and the work from Heaven imposed, 
 
 But to sit idle on the household hearth, 
 
 A burdenous drone; to visitants a gaze, 
 
 Or pitied object; these redundant locks, 
 
 Robustious to no purpose, clustering down, 
 
 Vain monument of strength; till length of years 
 
 And sedentary numbness^craze^my^limbs 
 
 To a contemptible old age obscure? 
 
 Here rather let me drudge and earn my bread; 
 
 Till vermin, or the draff of servile food, 
 
 211 
 
482 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Consume me, and oft-invocated death 
 
 Hasten the welcome end of all my pains, [that gift 
 
 Man. Wilt thou then serve the Philistines with 
 Which was expressly given thee to annoy them? 
 Better at home lie bed-rid, not only idle, 
 Inglorious, unemployed, with age outworn. 
 But God, who caused a fountain at thy prayer 
 From the dry ground to spring, thy thirst to allay 
 After the brunt of battle, can as easy 
 Cause light again within thy eyes to spring, 
 Wherewith to serve him better than thou hast; 
 And I persuade me so: why else this strength 
 Miraculous yet remaining in those locks ? 
 His might continues in thee not for nought, 
 Nor shall his wondrous gifts be frustrate thus. 
 
 Sam. All otherwise to me my thoughts portend, 
 That these dark orbs no more shall treat with light, 
 Nor other light of life continue long, 
 But yield to double darkness nigh at hand: 
 So much I feel my genial spirits droop, 
 My hopes all flat, nature within me seeing 
 In all her functions weary of herself; -*_/ 
 My race of glory run, and race of shame; 
 And I shall shortly be with them that rest, [ceed 
 
 Man. Believe not these suggestions, which pro- 
 From anguish of the mind and humours black, 
 That mingle with thy fancy. I however 
 Must not omit a father's timely care 
 To prosecute the means of thy deliverance 
 By ransom, or how else: meanwhile be calm, 
 And healing words from these thy friends admit. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 483 
 
 Sam. 0, that torment should not be confined 
 To the body's wounds and sores, 
 With maladies innumerable 
 In heart, head, breast, and reins; 
 But must secret passage find 
 To the inmost mind, 
 There exercise all his fierce accidentsv 
 And on her purest spirits prey, 
 As on entrails, joints, and limbs, -^ 
 With answerable pains, but more intense. 
 Though void of corporal sense. 
 
 My griefs not only pain me 
 As a linking disease, 
 BurSnding no redress, ferment and rage; 
 Nor less than wounds immedicable 
 Rankle, and fester, and gangrene, 
 To black mortification. 
 
 Thoughts, my tormentors, arm'd with deadly stings, 
 Mangle my apprehensive tenderest parts, 
 Exasperate, exulcerate, and raise 
 Dire inflammation, which no cooling herb 
 Or med'cinal liquor can assuage, 
 Nor breath of vernal air from snowy Alp. 
 Sleep hath forsook and given me o'er 
 ^To death's benumbing opium as my only cure: 
 < Thence faintings, swoonings of despair, 
 And sense of Heaven's desertion. 
 
 I was his nursling once, and choice delight, 
 His destined from the womb, 
 Promised by heavenly message twice descending. 
 Under his special eye 
 
484 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Abstemious I grew up and thrived amain: 
 
 He led me on to mightiest deeds, 
 
 Above the nerve of mortal arm, 
 
 Against the uncircumcised, our enemies: 
 
 But now hath cast me off as never known, 
 
 And to those cruel enemies, 
 
 Whom I by his appointment had provoked, 
 
 Left me all helpless, with the irreparable loss 
 
 Of sight, reserved alive to be repeated 
 
 The subject of their cruelty or scorn. 
 
 Nor am I in the list of them that hope: 
 
 Hopeless are all my evils, all remediless: 
 
 This one prayer yet remains, might I be heard, 
 
 No long petition; speedy death, 
 
 The close of all my miseries, and the balm. 
 
 Clio. Many are the sayings of the wise, 
 In ancient and in modern books enroll'd, 
 Extolling patience as the truest fortitude; 
 And to the bearing well of all calamities, 
 All chances incident to man's frail life, 
 Consolatories writ 
 
 With studied argument, and much persuasion 
 Lenient of grief and anxious thought: [sought, 
 But with the afflicted in his pangs their sound 
 Little prevails, or rather seems a tune 
 Harsh, and of dissonant mood from his complaint: 
 Unless he feel within 
 Some source of consolation from above, 
 Secret refreshings, that repair his strength. 
 And fainting spirits uphold. 
 
 God of our fathers, what is man ! 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 485 
 
 That thou towards him, with hand so. various, 
 
 Or might I say contrarious, 
 
 Temper 'st thy providence, through his short course, 
 
 Not evenly, as thou rulest 
 
 The angelic orders, and inferior creatures mute, 
 
 Irrational and brute 1 ? 
 
 Nor do I name of men the common rout 
 
 That, wandering loose about, 
 
 Grow up and perish, as the summer %; 
 
 Heads without name^BO more remember'd; 
 
 But such as thou hast solemnly elected, 
 
 With gifts and graces eminently adorn'd, 
 
 To some great work, thy glory, 
 
 And people's safety, which in part they effect: 
 
 Yet toward these thus dignified, thou oft, 
 
 Amidst their height of noon, 
 
 Changest thy countenance, and thy hand, with no 
 
 Of highest favours past [regard 
 
 From thee on them, or them to thee of service. 
 
 Nor only dost degrade them, or remit 
 To life obscured, which were a fair dismission; 
 But throw'st them lower than thou didst exalt them 
 Unseemly falls in human eye, [high; 
 
 Too grievous for the trespass or omission; 
 Oft leavest them to the hostile sword 
 Of heathen and profane, their carcasses 
 To dogs and fowls a prey, or else captived; 
 Or to the unjust tribunals, under change of times, 
 And condemnation of the ungrateful multitude. 
 If these they 'scape, perhaps in poverty 
 With sickness and disease thou bow'st them down, 
 
486 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Painful diseases and deform'd, 
 
 In crude old age; 
 
 Though not disordinate, yet causeless suffering 
 
 The punishment of dissolute days: in fine, 
 
 Just or unjust alike seem miserable, 
 
 For oft alike both come to evil end. [pion, 
 
 So deal not with this once thy glorious cham- 
 The image of thy strength, and mighty minister. 
 What do I beg? how hast thou dealt already! 
 Behold him in this state calamitous, and turn 
 His labours, for thou canst, to peaceful end. 
 
 But who is this, what thing of sea or land ? 
 Female of sex it seems, 
 That so bedeck'd, ornate, and gay, 
 Comes this way sailing 
 Like a stately ship 
 Of Tarsus, bound for the isles 
 Of Javan or Gadier 
 
 With all her bravery on, and tackle trim, 
 Sails fill'd, and streamers waving, 
 Courted by all the winds that hold them play, 
 An amber scent of odorous perfume 
 Her harbinger, a damsel train behind: 
 Some rich Philistian matron she may eem; 
 And now, at nearer view, no other certain 
 Than Dalila thy wife. [near me. 
 
 Sam. My wife ! my traitress : let her not come 
 
 Chor. Yet on she moves, now stands, and eyes 
 
 thee fixed, 
 
 About to have spoke; but now, with head declined, 
 Like a fair flower surcharged with dew, she weeps, 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 487 
 
 And words addressed seem into tears^dissolved, 
 Wetting the borderTcTf her~ silken veil: 
 But now again she makes address to speak. 
 
 Enter DALILA. 
 
 Dal. With doubtful feet and wavering resolution 
 I came, still dreading thy displeasure, Samson; 
 Which to have merited, without excuse, 
 I cannot but acknowledge; yet, if tears 
 May expiate (though the fact more evil drew 
 In the perverse event than I foresaw,) 
 My penance hath not slacken'd, though my pardon 
 No way assured. But conjugal affection, 
 Prevailing over fear and timorous doubt, 
 Hath led me on, desirous to behold 
 Once more thy face, and know of thy estate, 
 If aught in my ability thee may serve, 
 To lighten what thou suffer'st, and appease 
 Thy mind with what amends is in my power, 
 Though late, yet in some part to recompense 
 My rash but more unfortunate misdeed. 
 
 Sam. Out, out, hyaena ! these are thy wonted arts, 
 And arts of every woman false like thee, 
 To break all faith, all vows, deceive, betray, 
 Then as repentant to submit, beseech, 
 And reconcilement move with feign'd remorse, 
 Confess, and promise wonders in her change; 
 Not truly penitent, but chief to try 
 Her husband, how far urged his patience bears, 
 His virtue or weakness which way to assail: 
 Then with more cautious and instructed skill 
 
488 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Again transgresses, and again submits; 
 That wisest and best men, full oft beguiled, 
 With goodness principled not to reject 
 The penitent, but ever to forgive, 
 Are drawn to wear out miserable days, 
 Entangled with a poisonous .bosom snake, 
 If not by quick destruction soon cut off, 
 As I by thee, to ages an example. 
 
 Dal. Yet hear me, Samson; not that I endea- 
 To lessen or extenuate my offence; [vour 
 
 But that, on the other side, if it be weigh'd 
 By itself, with aggravation not surcharged, 
 Or else with just allowance counterpoised, 
 I may, if possible, thy pardon find 
 The easier towards me, or thy hatred less. 
 First granting, as I do, it was a weakness 
 In me, but incident to all our sex, 
 Curiosity, inquisitive, importune 
 Of secrets, then with like infirmity 
 To publish them, both common female faults; 
 Was it not weakness also to make known 
 For importunity, that is, for naught, 
 Wherein consisted all thy strength and safety? 
 To what I did thou show'dst me first the way. 
 But I to enemies reveal'd, and should not: 
 Nor should'st thou have trusted that to woman's 
 Ere I to thee, thou to thyself wast cruel, [frailty: 
 Let weakness then with weakness come to parl, 
 So near related, or the same of kind, 
 Thine forgive mine; that men may censure thine 
 The gentler, if severely thou exact not 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 489 
 
 More strength from me than in thyself was found. 
 
 And what if love, which thou interpret'st hate, 
 
 The jealousy of love, powerful of sway 
 
 In human hearts, nor less in mine towards thee 
 
 Caused what I did? I saw thee mutable 
 
 Of fancy, fear'd lest one day thou wouldst leave me 
 
 As her at Timna, sought by all means therefore 
 
 How to endear, and hold thee to me firmest: 
 
 No better way I saw than by importuning 
 
 To learn thy secrets, get into my power 
 
 Thy key of strength and safety: thou wilt say, 
 
 Why then reveal'd ? I was assured by those 
 
 Who tempted me, that nothing was design'd 
 
 Against thee but safe custody, and hold: 
 
 That made for me; I knew that liberty 
 
 Would draw thee forth to perilous enterprises, 
 
 While I at home sat full of cares and fears, 
 
 Wailing thy absence in my widow'd bed: 
 
 Here I should still enjoy thee, day and night, 
 
 Mine aadJjpye's prisoner, not the Philistines'; 
 
 Whole to myself, unhazarded abroad, 
 
 Fearless at home of partners in my love. 
 
 These reasons in love's law have pass'd for good, 
 
 Though fond and reasonless to some perhaps; 
 
 And love hath oft, well meaning, wrought much 
 
 Yet always pity or pardon hath obtain'd. [woe, 
 
 Be not unlike all others, not austere 
 
 As thou art strong, inflexible as steel. 
 
 If thou in strength alt 'mortals dost exceed, 
 
 In uncompassionate anger do not so. 
 
 Sam. How cunningly the sorceress displays 
 
490 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Her own transgressions, to upbraid me mine ! 
 
 That malice, not repentance, brought thee hither, 
 
 By this appears: I gave, thou say'st, the example; 
 
 I led the way: bitter reproach, but true : 
 
 I to myself was false ere thou to me; 
 
 Such pardon therefore as I give my folly, 
 
 Take to thy wicked deed; which when thou seest 
 
 Impartial, self-severe, inexorable, 
 
 Then wilt renounce thy seeking, and much rather 
 
 Confess it feign'd. Weakness is thy excuse, 
 
 And I believe it; weakness to resist 
 
 Philistian gold: if weakness may excuse, 
 
 What murderer, what traitor, parricide, 
 
 Incestuous, sacrilegious, but may plead it? 
 
 All wickedness is weakness : that plea therefore 
 
 With God or man will gain thee no remission. 
 
 But love constraint thee; call it furious rage 
 
 To satisfy thy lust : love seeks to have love ; 
 
 My love how couldst thou hope, who took'st the 
 
 To raise in me inexpiable hate, [way 
 
 Knowing, as needs I must, by thee betray'd? 
 
 In vain thou strivest to cover shame with shame, 
 
 Or by evasions thy crime uncover'st more. 
 
 Dal. Since thou determinest weakness for no plea 
 In man or woman, though to thy own condemning, 
 Hear what assaults I had, what snares besides, 
 What sieges girt me round,. ere I consented; 
 Which might have awed the best-resolved of men, 
 The constantest, to have yielded without blame. 
 It was not gold, as to my charge thou lay'st, [trates 
 That wrought with me: thou know'st the magis- 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 491 
 
 And princes of my country came in person, 
 Solicited, commanded, threatened, urged, 
 Adjured by all the bonds of civil duty 
 And of religion, press'd how just it was, 
 How honourable, how glorious, to entrap 
 A common enemy, who had destroy' d 
 Such numbers of our nation: and the priest 
 Was not behind, but ever at my ear, 
 Preaching how meritorious with the gods 
 It would be to ensnare an irreligious 
 Dishonourer of Dagon. What had I 
 To oppose against such powerful arguments'? 
 Only my love of thee held long debate, 
 And combated in silence all these reasons 
 With hard contest: at length, that grounded 
 So rife and celebrated in the mouths [maxim, 
 Of wisest men, that To the public good 
 Private respects must yield with grave authority 
 Took full possession of me, and prevailed: 
 Virtue, as I thought, truth, duty, so enjoining. 
 
 Sam. I thought where all thy circling wiles 
 In feign'd religion, smooth hypocrisy! [would end; 
 But had thy love, still odiously pretended, 
 Been, as it ought, sincere, it would have taught thee 
 Far other reasons, brought forth other deeds. 
 I, before all the daughters of my tribe 
 And of my nation, chose thee from among 
 My enemies, loved thee, as too well thou knew'st; 
 Too well; unbosom'd all my secrets to thee, 
 Not out of levity, but overpower'd 
 By thy request, who could deny thee nothing; 
 
492 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Yet now am judged an enemy. Why then 
 Didst thou at first receive me for thy husband, 
 Then, as since then, thy country's foe profess'd 1 
 Being once a wife, for me thou wast to leave 
 Parents and country; nor was I their subject, 
 Nor under their protection, but my own; 
 Thou mine, not theirs: if aught against my life 
 Thy country sought of thee, it sought unjustly, 
 Against the law of nature, law of nations; 
 No more thy country, but an impious crew 
 Of men conspiring to uphold their state 
 By worse than hostile deeds; violating the ends 
 For which our country is a name so dear; 
 Not therefore to be obey'd. But zeal moved thee; 
 To please thy gods thou didst it: gods unable 
 To acquit themselves and prosecute their foes 
 But by ungodly deeds, the contradiction 
 Of their own deity, gods cannot be; 
 Less therefore to be pleased, obey'd, or fear'd. 
 These false pretexts and varnish'd colours failing, 
 Bare in thy guilt, how foul must thou appear ! 
 
 Dal. In argument with men a woman ever 
 Goes by the worse, whatever be the cause, [breath: 
 
 Sam. For want of words no doubt, or lack of 
 Witness when I was worried with thy peals. 
 
 Dal. I was a fool, too rash, and quite mistaken 
 In what I thought would have succeeded best. 
 Let me obtain forgiveness of thee, Samson; 
 Afford me place to show what recompense 
 Towards thee I intend for what I have misdone, 
 Misguided; only what remains past cure 
 
SAMSON AaONISTES. 493 
 
 Bear not too sensibly, nor still insist 
 
 To afflict thyself in vain: though sight be lost, 
 
 Life yet hath many solaces, enjoy 'd 
 
 Where other senses want not their delights 
 
 At home in leisure and domestic ease, 
 
 Exempt from many a care and chance, to which 
 
 Eye-sight exposes daily men abroad. 
 
 I to the lords will intercede, not doubting 
 
 Their favourable ear, that I may fetch thee 
 
 Forth from this loathsome prison-house, to abide 
 
 With me, where my redoubled love and care 
 
 With nursing diligence, to me glad office, 
 
 May ever tend about thee to old age 
 
 With all things grateful cheer'd, and so supplied, 
 
 That, what by me thou hast lost, thou least shalt 
 
 miss. 
 
 Sam. No, no; of my condition take no care; 
 It fits not; thou and I long since are twain: 
 Nor think me so unwary or accursed, 
 To bring my feet again into the snare 
 Where once I have been caught: I know thy trains, 
 Though dearly to my cost, thy gins, and toils: \ 
 Thy fair enchanted cup, and warbling charmsX- 
 No more on me have power; their force is null'd ; 
 So much of adder's wisdom I have learn'd, 
 To fence my ear against thy sorceries. [men 
 
 If in my flower of youth and strength, when all 
 Loved, honour'd, fear'd me, thou alone couldst 
 
 hate me 
 
 Thy husband, slight me, sell me, and forego me; 
 How wouldst thou use me now, blind, and thereby 
 
494 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Deceivable, in most things as a child 
 Helpless, thence easily contemn'd, and scorn'd, 
 And last neglected ! How wouldst thou insult, 
 When I must live uxorious to thy will 
 In perfect thraldom; how again betray me, 
 Bearing my words and doings to the lords 
 To gloss upon, and, censuring, frown or smile ! 
 This jail I count the house of liberty 
 To thine, whose doors my feet shall never enter. 
 Dal. Let me approach at least and touch thy 
 
 hand. 
 
 Sam. Not for thy life, lest fierce remembrance 
 My sudden rage to tear thee joint by joint, [wake 
 At distance I forgive thee; go with that: 
 
 Bewail thy falsehood, and the pious works 
 It hath brought forth to make thee memorable 
 
 Among illustrious women, faithful wives ! 
 
 Cherish thy hasten'd widowhood with Jthe^goJcL 
 
 Of matrimonial treason ! so farewell. 
 
 Dal. I see thou art implacable, more deaf 
 
 To prayers than winds and seas; yet winds to seas 
 
 Are reconciled at length, and sea to shore: 
 
 Thy anger, unappeasable, still rages, 
 
 Eternal tempest, never to be calm'd. 
 
 Why do I humble thus myself, and, suing 
 
 For peace, reap nothing but repulse and hate; 
 
 Bid go with evil omen, and the brand 
 
 Of infamy upon my name denounced? 
 
 To mix with thy concernments I desist 
 
 Henceforth, nor too much disapprove my own. 
 
 Fame, if not double-faced, is double-mouth'd, 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 495 
 
 And with contrary blast proclaims most deeds; 
 
 On both his wings, one black, the other white, 
 
 Bears greatest names in his wild airy flight. 
 
 My name perhaps among the circumcised 
 
 In Dan, in Judah, and the bordering tribes, 
 
 To all posterity may stand defamed, 
 
 With malediction mention'd, and the blot 
 
 Of falsehood most unconjugal traduced: 
 
 But in my country, where I most desire, 
 
 In Ecron, Gaza, Asdod, and in Gath, 
 
 I shall be named among the famousest 
 
 Of women, sung at solemn festivals, 
 
 Living and dead recorded, who, to save 
 
 Her country from a fierce destroyer, chose 
 
 Above the faith of wedlock- bands; my tomb 
 
 With odours visited and annual flowers; 
 
 Not less renown'd thajL.iGu Mount Ephraim 
 
 Jael, who with inhospitable guile 
 
 Smote Sisera sleeping, through the temples nail'd. 
 
 Nor shall I count it heinous to enjoy 
 
 The public marks of honour and reward, 
 
 Gonferr'd upon me for the piety 
 
 Which to my country I was judg'd to have shown. 
 
 At this whoever envies or repines, 
 
 I leave him to his lot, and like my own. [Exit. 
 
 Cho. She's gone, a manifest serpent by her sting, 
 Discover'd in the end, till now conceal'd. 
 
 Sam. So let her go; God sent her to debase me, 
 And aggravate my folly, who committed 
 To such a viper his most sacred trust 
 Of secrecy, my safety and my life. 
 
496 SAMSON AGONTSTES. 
 
 Cho. Yet beauty, though injurious, hath strange 
 After offence returning, to regain [power, 
 
 Love once possess'd, nor can be easily 
 Eepulsed, without much inward passion felt, 
 And secretLslin..^fcmt5roiis-remorse. 
 
 Sam. Love-quarrels oft in pleasing concord end, 
 Not wedlock treachery endangering life. 
 
 Cho. It is not virtue, wisdom, valour, wit, 
 Strength, comeliness of shape, or amplest merit, 
 That woman's love can win or long inherit; 
 But what it is, hard is to say, 
 Harder to hit, 
 
 Which way soever men refer it; 
 Much like thy riddle, Samson, in one day 
 Or seven, though one should musing sit. 
 
 If any of these, or all, the Timnian bride 
 Had not so soon preferr'd 
 Thy paranymph, worthless to thee compared, 
 Successor in thy bed, 
 Nor both so loosely disallied 
 Their nuptials, nor this last so treacherously 
 Had shorn the fatal harvest of thy head. 
 Is it for that such outward ornament 
 Was lavish'd on their sex, that inward gifts 
 Were left for haste unfinished, judgment scant, 
 Capacity not raised to apprehend 
 Or value what is best 
 In choice, but oftest to affect the wrong? 
 Or was too much of self-love mix'd, 
 Of constancy no root infix'd, 
 That either they love nothing, or not 1 mg ? 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 497 
 
 Whatever it be to wisest men and best 
 Seeming at first all heavenly under virgin veil, 
 Soft, modest, meek, demure, 
 Once join'd, the contrary she proves, a. thorn 
 Intestine, far within defensive arms 
 A cleaving mischief, in his way to virtue 
 Adverse and turbulent, or by her charms 
 Draws him awry enslaved 
 With dotage, and his sense depraved 
 To folly and shameful deeds, which ruin ends. 
 What pilot so expert but needs must wreck/\ 
 Embark' d with such a steers-mate at the helm/ 
 
 Favour'd of Heaven, who finds 
 One virtuous, rarely found, 
 That in domestic good combines; 
 Happy that house ! his way to peace is smooth: 
 But virtue, which breaks through all opposition, 
 And all temptation can remove, 
 Most shines, and most is acceptable above. 
 
 Therefore God's universal law 
 Gave to the man despotic power 
 Over his female in due awe, 
 Nor from that right to part an hour, 
 Smile she or lour: 
 So shall he least confusion draw 
 On his whole life, not sway'd 
 By female usurpation, nor dismay'd. 
 
 But had we best retire? I see a storm, [rain. 
 
 Sam. Fair days have oft contracted wind and 
 
 Cho. But this another kind of tempest brings. 
 
 Sam. Be less abstruse: my riddling days are past. 
 
 21 
 
498 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Cho. Look now for no enchanting voice, nor fear 
 The,l>a&4>f. honeyed words; a rougher tongue 
 Draws hitherward; I know him by his stride, 
 The giant Harapha of Gath, his look 
 Haughty, as in his pile high-built and proud. 
 Comes he in peace 1 ? what wind hath blown him 
 I less conjecture than when first I saw [hither 
 The sumptuous Dalila floating this way: 
 His habit carries .peace, his brow defiance. 
 
 Sam. Or peace or not, alike to me he comes. 
 
 Cho. His fraught we soon shall know: he now 
 arrives. 
 
 Enter HARAPHA. 
 
 Har. I come not, Samson, to condole thy chance, 
 As these perhaps, yet wish it had not been, 
 Though for no friendly intent. I am of Gath; 
 Men call me Harapha, of stock renown'd 
 As Og, or Anak, and the Emims old 
 That Kiriathaim held: thou know'stme now, 
 If thou at all are known. Much I have heard 
 Of thy prodigious might and feats perform'd, 
 Incredible to me, in this displeased, 
 That I was never present on the place 
 Of those encounters, where we might have tried 
 Each other's force in camp or listed field; 
 And now am come to see of whom such noise 
 Hath walk'd about, and each limb to survey, 
 If thy appearance answer loud report. [taste. 
 
 Sam. The way to know were not to see, but 
 Har. Dost thou already single me? I thought 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 499 
 
 Gyves and the mill had tamed thee. 0, that fortune 
 Had brought me to the field, where thou art famed 
 To have wrought such wonders with an ass's jaw! 
 I should have forced thee soon wish other arms, 
 Or left thy carcass where the ass lay thrown: 
 So had the glory of prowess been recover'd 
 To Palestine, won by a Philistine 
 From the unforeskinn'd race, of whom thou bear'st 
 The highest name for valiant acts: that honour 
 Certain to have won by mortal duel from thee, 
 I lose, prevented by thy eyes put out. [but do 
 Sam. Boast not of what thou would'st have done, 
 What then thou wouldst; thou seest it in thy hand. 
 
 Ear. To combat with a blind man I disdain; 
 And thou hast need much washing to be touch'd. 
 
 Sam. Such usage as your honourable lords 
 Afford me, assassinated and betray'd, 
 Who durst not with their whole united powers 
 In fight withstand me single and unarm'd, 
 Nor in the house with chamber- ambushes 
 Close-banded durst attack me, no, not sleeping, 
 Till they had hired a woman with their gold, 
 Breaking her marriage faith, to circumvent me. 
 Therefore, without feign'd shifts, let be assign'd 
 Some narrow place enclosed, where sight may give 
 Or rather flight, no great advantage on me; [thee, 
 Then put on all thy gorgeous arms, thy helmet 
 And brigandine of brass, thy broad habergeon, 
 Vant-brace, and greves, and gauntlet; add thy 
 
 spear, 
 A weaver's beam, and seven- times-folded shield: 
 
500 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 1 only with an oaken staff will meet thee, 
 And raise such outcries on thy clatter' d iron, 
 Which long shall not withhold me from thy head, 
 That in a little time, while breath remains thee, 
 Thou oft shalt wish thyself at Gath, to boast 
 Again in safety what thou wouldst have done 
 To Samson, but shalt never see Gath more. 
 
 Ear. Thou durst not thus disparage glorious 
 Which greatest heroes have in battle worn [arms, 
 Their ornament and safety, had not spells 
 And black enchantments, some magician's art, 
 Arm'd thee or charm'd thee strong, which thou 
 
 from Heaven 
 
 Feign'dst at thy birth was given thee in thy hair, 
 Where strength can least abide, though all thy hairs 
 WereJbristlesrTaBged like those that ridge the back 
 Of chafed wild boars, or ruffled porcupines. 
 
 Sam. I know no spells, use no forbidden arts: 
 My trust is in the Living God, who gave me 
 At my nativity this strength, diffused 
 No less through all my sinews, joints, and bones, 
 Than thine, while I preserved these locks unshorn, 
 The pledge of my unviolated vow. 
 For proof hereof, if Dagon be thy god, 
 Go to his temple, invocate his aid 
 With solemnest devotion, spread before him 
 How highly it concerns his glory now 
 To frustrate and dissolve these magic spells, 
 Which I to be the power of Israel's God 
 Avow, and challenge Dagon to the test, 
 Offering to combat thee his champion bold, 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 501 
 
 With utmost of his godhead seconded: 
 Then thou shalt see, or rather, to thy sorrow, 
 Soon feel, whose God is strongest, thine or mine. 
 
 Har. Presume not on thy God, whate'er he be; 
 Thee he regards not, owns not, hath cut off 
 Quite from his people, and deliver'd up 
 Into thy enemies' hand, permitted them 
 To put out both thine eyes, and fetter'd send thee 
 Into the common prison, there to grind 
 Among the slaves and asses, thy comrades, 
 As good for nothing else; no better service 
 With those thy boisterous locks, no worthy match 
 For valour to assail, nor by the sword 
 Of noble warrior, so to stain his honour, 
 But by the barber's razor best subdued. 
 
 Sam. All these indignities, for such they are 
 From thine, these evils I deserve, and more, 
 Acknowledge them from God inflicted on me 
 Justly, yet despair not of his final pardon, 
 Whose ear is ever open, and his eye 
 Gracious to re-admit the suppliant: 
 In confidence whereof I once again 
 Defy thee to the trial of mortal fight, 
 By combat to decide whose god is God, 
 Thine, or whom I with Israel's sons adore. 
 
 Har. Fair honour that thou dost thy God, in 
 He will accept thee to defend his cause, [trusting 
 A murderer, a revolter, and a robber! 
 
 Sam. Tongue-doughty giant, how dost thou 
 prove me these? 
 
 liar. Is not thy nation subject to our lords? 
 
502 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Their magistrates confess'd it, when they took thee 
 As a league-breaker, and delivered bound 
 Into our hands : for hadst thou not committed 
 Notorious murder on those thirty men 
 At Ascalon, who never did thee harm, 
 Then like a robber stripp'dst them of their robes? 
 The Philistines, when thou hadst broke the league, 
 Went up with armed powers thee only seeking, 
 To others did no violence nor spoil. 
 
 Sam. Among the daughters of the Philistines 
 I chose a wife, which argued me no foe; 
 And in our city held my nuptial feast: 
 But your ill-meaning politician lords, 
 Under pretence of bridal friends and guests, 
 Appointed to await me thirty spies, [bride 
 
 Who, threatening cruel death, constraint the 
 To wring from me, and tell to them, my secret, 
 That solved the riddle which I had proposed. 
 When I perceived all set on enmity, 
 As on my enemies, wherever chanced, 
 I used hostility, and took their spoil, 
 To pay my underminers in their coin. 
 My nation was subjected to your lords; 
 It was the force of conquest: force with force 
 Is well ejected when the conquer'd can. 
 But I, a private person, whom my country 
 As a league-breaker gave up bound, presumed 
 Single rebellion, and did hostile acts. 
 I was no private, but a person raised [Heaven. 
 With strength sufficient, and command from 
 To free my country: if their servile minds 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 503 
 
 Me, their deliverer sent, would not receive, 
 But to their masters gave me up for naught, 
 The unworthier they; whence to this day they 
 I was to do my part from Heaven assign'd, [serve. 
 And had perform' d it, if my known offence 
 Had not disabled me, not all your force: 
 These shifts refuted, answer thy appellant, 
 Though by his blindness maim'd for high attempts, 
 Who now defies thee thrice to single fight, 
 As a petty enterprise of small enforce. 
 
 Har. With thee ? a man condemn'd, a slave in- 
 Due by the law to capital punishment? [roll'd, 
 To fight with thee no man of arms will deign. 
 
 Sam. Camest thou for this, vain boaster, to sur- 
 vey me, 
 
 To descant on my strength, and give thy verdict? 
 Come nearer; part not hence so slight inform'd, 
 But take good heed my hand survey not thee. 
 
 Har. Baal-zebub ! can my ears unused 
 Hear these dishonours, and not render death? 
 
 Sam. No man withholds thee, nothing from thy 
 Fear I incurable; bring up thy van: [hand 
 
 My heels are fetter' d, but my fist is free. 
 
 Har. This insolence other kind of answer fits. 
 
 Sam. Go, baffled coward! lest I run upon thee, 
 Though in these chains, bulk without spirit vast, 
 And with one buffet lay thy structure low, 
 Or swing thee in the air, then dash thee down 
 To the hazard of thy brains and shatter'd sides. 
 
 Har. By Astaroth, ere long thou shalt lament 
 These braveries, in irons laden on thee. [Exit. 
 
504 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Cho. His giantship is gone somewhat crestfallen. 
 Stalking with less unconscionable strides, 
 And lower looks, but in a sultry chafe. 
 
 Sam. I dread him not, nor all his giant brood, 
 Though fame divulge him father of five sons, 
 All of gigantic size, Goliath chief. 
 
 Cho. He will directly to the lords, I fear, 
 And with malicious counsel stir them up 
 Some way or other yet farther to afflict thee. 
 
 Sam. He must allege some cause, and offer'd 
 Will not dare mention, lest a question rise [fight 
 Whether he durst accept the offer or not; 
 And, that he durst not, plain enough appear'd. 
 Much more affliction than already felt 
 They cannot well impose, nor I sustain; 
 If they intend advantage of my labours, 
 The work of many hands, which earns my keeping 
 With no small profit daily to my owners. 
 But come what will, my deadliest foe will prove 
 My speediest friend, by death to rid me hence; 
 The worst that he can give, to me the best. 
 Yet so it may fall out, because their end 
 Is hate, not help to me, it may with mine 
 Draw their own ruin who attempt the deed. 
 
 Cho. 0, how comely it is, and how reviving 
 To the spirits of just men long oppress'd, 
 When God into the hands of their deliverer 
 Puts invincible might 
 
 To quell the mighty of the earth, the oppressor, 
 The brute and boisterous force of violent men, 
 Hardy and industrious to support 
 
SAMSON AGONTSTES. 505 
 
 Tyrannic power, but raging to pursue 
 
 The righteous, and all such as honour truth ! 
 
 He all their ammunition 
 
 And feats of war defeats, 
 
 With plain heroic magnitude of mind 
 
 And celestial vigour arm'd; 
 
 Their armouries and magazines contemns, 
 
 Renders them useless; while 
 
 With winged expedition, 
 
 Swift as the lightning glance, he executes 
 
 His errand on the wicked, who, surprised, 
 
 Lose their defence, distracted and amazed. 
 
 But patience is more oft the exercise 
 Of saints, the trial of their fortitude, 
 Making them each his own deliverer, 
 And victor over all 
 That tyranny or fortune can inflict. 
 Either of these is in thy lot, 
 Samson, with might endued 
 Above the sons of men; but sight bereaved 
 May chance to number thee with those 
 Whom patience finally must crown. 
 
 This idol's day hath been to thee no day of rest, 
 Labouring thy mind 
 More than the working day thy hands. 
 And yet perhaps more trouble is behind, 
 For I descry this way 
 Some other tending; in his hand 
 A sceptre or quaint staff he bears, 
 Comes on amain, speed in his look. 
 By his habit I discern him now 
 
506 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 A public officer, and now at hand: 
 His message will be short and voluble. 
 
 Enter OFFICER. 
 
 Off. Hebrews, the prisoner Samson here I seek. 
 
 Oho. His manacles remark him; there he sits. 
 
 Of. Samson, to thee our lords thus bid me say: 
 This day to Dagon is a solemn feast, 
 With sacrifices, triumph, pomp, and games: 
 Thy strength they know surpassing human rate, 
 And now some public proof thereof require 
 To honour this great feast and great assembly: 
 Rise therefore with all speed, and come along, 
 Where I will see thee hearten'd, and fresh clad, 
 To appear, as fits, before the illustrious lords. 
 
 Sam. Thou know'st I am a Hebrew, therefore 
 Our law forbids at their religious rites [tell them, 
 My presence; for that cause I cannot come. 
 
 Of. This answer, be assured, will not content 
 them. 
 
 Sam. Have they not sword-players, and every 
 Of gymnic artists, wrestlers, riders, runners, [sort 
 Jugglers, and dancers, antics, mummers, mimics, 
 But they must pick me out, with shackles tired, 
 And over-labour'd at their public mill, 
 To make them sport with blind activity? 
 Do they not seek occasion of new quarrels 
 On my refusal to distress me more, 
 Or make a game of my calamities? 
 Return the way thou earnest; I will not come. 
 Of. Regard thyself; this will offend them highly. 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 507 
 
 Sam. Myself? my conscience, and internal peace. 
 Can they think me so broken, so debased 
 With corporal servitude, that my mind ever 
 Will condescend to such absurd commands? 
 Although their drudge, to be their fool or jester, 
 And in my midst of sorrow and heart-grief 
 To show them feats, and play before their god, 
 The worst of all indignities, yet on me 
 Join'd with extreme contempt? I will not come. 
 
 Off. My message was imposed on me with speed, 
 Brooks no delay: is this thy resolution? [needs. 
 
 Sam. So take it with what speed thy message 
 
 Off. I am sorry what this stoutness will pro- 
 duce. [Exit. 
 
 Sam. Perhaps thou shalt have cause to sorrow 
 indeed. 
 
 Gho. Consider, Samson; matters now are strain'd 
 Up to the height, whether to hold or break : 
 He's gone, and who knows how he may report 
 Thy words bv adding juel to > tlie flame? 
 Expect another message more imperious, 
 More lordly thundering than thou well wilt bear. 
 
 Sam. Shall I abuse this consecrated gift 
 Of strength, again returning with my hair 
 After my great transgression; so requite 
 Favour renew'd, and add a greater sin 
 By prostituting holy things to idols? 
 A Nazarite in place abominable 
 Vaunting my strength in honour to their Dagon ! 
 Besides, how vile, contemptible, ridiculous ! 
 What act more execrably unclean, profane? 
 
508 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Cko. Yet with this strength thou serv'st the 
 Idolatrous, uncircumcised, unclean. [Philistines, 
 
 Sam. Not in their idol-worship, but by labour 
 Honest and lawful to deserve my food 
 Of those, who have me in their civil power. 
 
 Cho. Where the heart joins not, outward acts 
 defile not. [tence holds. 
 
 Sam. Where outward force constrains, the sen- 
 But who constrains me to the temple of Dagon, 
 Not dragging? the Philistian lords command. 
 Commands are no constraints. If I obey them, 
 I do it freely, venturing to displease 
 God for the fear of man, and man prefer, 
 Set God behind: which in his jealousy 
 Shall never, unrepented, find forgiveness. 
 Yet that he may dispense with me, or thee, 
 Present in temples at idolatrous rites 
 For some important cause, thou need'st not doubt. 
 
 Cho. How thou wilt here come off surmounts 
 my reach. 
 
 Sam. Be of good courage; I begin to feel 
 Some rousing motions in me, which dispose 
 To something extraordinary my thoughts. 
 I with this messenger will go along, 
 Nothing to do, be sure, that may dishononr 
 Our law, or stain my vow of Nazarite. 
 If there be aught of presage in the mind, 
 This day will be remarkable in my life 
 By some great act, or of my days the last, [turns. 
 
 Cko. In time thou hast resolved; the man re- 
 
 Off. Samson, this second message from our lords 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 509 
 
 To thee I am bid say. Art thou our slave, 
 Our captive, at the public mill our drudge, 
 And darest thou at our sending and command 
 Dispute thy coming? come without delay; 
 Or we shall find such engines to assail 
 And hamper thee, as thou shalt come of force, 
 Though thou wert firmlier fasten'd than a rock. 
 
 Sam. I could be well content to try their art, 
 Which to no few of them would prove pernicious: 
 Yet, knowing their advantages too many, 
 Because they shall not trail me through their streets 
 Like a wild-beast, I am content to go. 
 Masters' commands come with a power resistless 
 To such as owe them absolute subjection; 
 And for a life who will not change his purpose 1 ? 
 (So mutable are all the ways of men !) 
 Yet this be sure, in nothing to comply 
 Scandalous or forbidden in our law. 
 
 Off. I praise thy resolution: doff these links: 
 By this compliance thou wilt win the lords 
 To favour, and perhaps to set thee free. 
 
 Sam. Brethren, farewell; your company along 
 I will not wish, lest it perhaps offend them 
 To see me girt with friends; and how the sight 
 Of me as of a common enemy, 
 So dreaded once, may now exasperate them, 
 I know not: lords are lordliest in their wine: 
 And the well-feasted priest then soonest fired 
 With zeal, if aught religion seem concern'd; 
 No less the people, on their holy-days, 
 Impetuous, insolent, unquenchable: 
 
510 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Happen what may, of me expect to hear 
 Nothing dishonourable, impure, unworthy 
 Our God, our law, my nation, or myself, 
 The last of me or no I cannot warrant. 
 
 [Exit with the Officer. 
 Oho. Go, and the Holy One 
 Of Israel be thy guide 
 
 To what may serve his glory best, and spread his 
 Great among the heathen round; [name 
 
 Send thee the angel of thy birth, to stand 
 Fast by thy side, who from thy father's field 
 Rode up in flames after his message told / 
 Of thy conception, and be now a shield 
 Of Jica; that spirit, that first rush'd on thee 
 In the camp of Dan, 
 Be efficacious in thee now at need! 
 For never was from heaven imparted 
 Measure of strength so great to mortal seed, 
 As in thy wondrous actions hath been seen. 
 But wherefore comes old Manoah in such haste 
 With youthful steps? much livelier than erewhile 
 He seems; supposing here to find his son, 
 Or of him bringing to us some glad news'? 
 
 Enter MANOAH. 
 
 Man. Peace with you, brethren; my inducement 
 Was not at present here to find my son, [hither 
 By order of the lords new parted hence 
 To come and play before them at their feast. 
 I heard all as I came; the city rings, 
 And numbers thither flock: I had no will. 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 511 
 
 Lest I should see him forced to things unseemly. 
 But that which moved my coming now, was chiefly 
 To give ye part with me what hope I have 
 With good success to work his liberty. [take 
 
 Cho. That hope would much rejoice us to par- 
 With thee; say, reverend sire; we thirst to hear. 
 
 Man. I have attempted one by one the lords 
 Either at home, orthrough the high street passing, 
 With supplication prone and father's tears, 
 To accept of ransom for my son their prisoner. 
 Some much averse I found and wondrous harsh, 
 Contemptuous, proud, set on revenge and spite; 
 That part most reverenced Dagon and his priests: 
 Others more moderate seeming, but their aim 
 Private reward, for which both God and state 
 They easily would set to sale: a third 
 More generous far and civil, who confess'd 
 They had enough revenged; having reduced 
 Their foe to misery beneath their fears, 
 The rest was magnanimity to remit, 
 If some convenient ransom were proposed. 
 What noise or shout was that? it tore the sky. 
 
 Cho. Doubtless, the people shouting to behold 
 Their once great dread, captive and blind before 
 
 them, 
 Or at some proof of strength before them shown. 
 
 Man. His ransom, if my whole inheritance 
 May compass it, shall willingly be paid 
 And number'd down: much rather I shall choose 
 To live the poorest in my tribe, than richest, 
 And he in that calamitous prison left. 
 
512 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 No, I am fix'd, not to part hence without him. 
 
 For his redemption all my patrimony, 
 
 If need be, I am ready to forego 
 
 And quit: not wanting him, I shall want nothing. 
 
 Cho. Fathers are wont to lay up for their sons, 
 Thou for thy son art bent to lay out all: 
 Sons wont to nurse their parents in old age, 
 Thou in old age carest how to nurse thy son, 
 Made older than thy age through eye- sight lost. 
 
 Man. It shall be my delight to tend his eyes, 
 And view him sitting in the house ennobled 
 With all those high exploits by him achieved, 
 And on his shoulders waving down those locks, 
 That of a nation arm'd the strength contain'd; 
 And I persuade me, God had not permitted 
 His strength again to grow up with his hair, 
 Garrison' d round about him like a camp 
 Of faithful soldiery, were not his purpose 
 To use him farther yet in some great service; 
 Not to sit idle with so great a gift 
 Useless, and thence ridiculous, about him. 
 And since his strength with eye-sight was not lost, 
 God will restore him eye-sight to his strength. 
 
 Cho. Thy hopes are not ill founded, nor seem 
 Of his delivery, and thy joy thereon [vain 
 
 Conceived, agreeably to a father's love, 
 In both which we, as next, participate. [noise ! 
 
 Man. I know your friendly minds, and 0, what 
 Mercy of Heaven ! what hideous noise was that? 
 Horribly loud, unlike the former shout. 
 
 Cho. Noise call you it, or universal groan, 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 513 
 
 As if the whole inhabitation perish'd ! 
 
 Blood, death, and deathful deeds are in that noise, 
 
 Kuin, destruction at the utmost point. 
 
 Man. Of ruin indeed methought I heard the 
 0! it continues: they have slain my son. [noise: 
 
 Cho. Thy son is rather slaying them; that out- 
 From slaughter of one foe could not ascend, [cry 
 
 Man. Some dismal accident it needs must be: 
 What shall we do; stay here, or run and see ? 
 
 Cho. Best keep together here, lest, running 
 We unawares run into danger's mouth, [thither, 
 This evil on the Philistines is fallen; 
 From whom could else a general cry be heard? 
 The sufferers then will scarce molest us here; 
 From other hands we need not much to fear. 
 What if, his eye-sight (for to Israel's God 
 Nothing is hard) by miracle restored, 
 He now be dealing dole among his foes, 
 And over heaps of slaughter'd walk his way 1 
 
 Man. That were a joy presumptuous to be 
 thought. 
 
 Cho. Yet God hath wrought things as incredible 
 For his people of old; what hinders now ? [will; 
 
 Man. He can, I know, but doubt to think he 
 Yet hope would fain subscribe, and tempts belief. 
 A little stay will bring some notice hither. 
 
 Cho. Of good or bad so great, of bad the sooner; 
 For evil news rides post, while good news baits: 
 And to our wish I see one hither speeding; 
 A Hebrew, as I guess, and of our tribe. 
 
514 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Enter MESSENGER. 
 
 Mes. 0, whither shall I run, or which way fly, 
 The sight of this so horrid spectacle, 
 Which erst mine eyes beheld, and yet behold] 
 For dire imagination still pursues me. 
 But providence or instinct of nature seems, 
 Or reason, though disturbed, and scarce consulted, 
 To have guided me aright, I know not how, 
 To thee first, reverend Manoah, and to these 
 My countrymen, whom here I knew remaining, 
 As at some distance from the place of horror, 
 So in the sad event too much concern'd. [thee 
 
 Man, The accident was loud, and here before 
 With rueful cry, yet what it was we hear not: 
 No preface needs; thou seest we long to know. 
 
 Mes. It would burst forth, but I recover breath 
 And sense distract, to know well what I utter. 
 
 Man. Tell us the sum, the circumstance defer. 
 
 Mes. Gaza yet stands, but all her sons are fallen. 
 All in a moment overwhelm'd and fallen. 
 
 Man. Sad, but thou know'st to Israelites not 
 The desolation of a hostile city. [saddest 
 
 Mes. Feed on that first: there may in grief be 
 
 Man. Relate by whom. [surfeit. 
 
 Mes. By Samson. 
 
 Man. That still lessens 
 
 The sorrow, and converts it nigh to joy. 
 
 Mes. Ah ! Manoah, I refrain too suddenly 
 To utter what will come at last too soon; 
 Lest evil tidings, with too rude irruption 
 Hitting thy aged ear, should pierce too deep. 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 515 
 
 M an. Suspense in news is torture; speak them 
 out. 
 
 Mes. Take then the worst in brief, Samson is 
 dead. [feated 
 
 Man. The worst indeed ! 0, all my hope's de- 
 To free him hence ! but death, who sets all free, 
 Hath paid his ransom now and full discharge. 
 What windy joy this day had I conceived 
 Hopeful of his delivery, which now proves 
 Abortive as the first-born bloom of spring, 
 Nipped with the lagging rear of winter's frost! 
 Yet ere I give the reins to grief, say first, 
 How died he; death to life is crown or shame 
 All by him fell, thou say'st; by whom fell he? 
 What glorious hand gave Samson his deaths 
 
 Mes. Unwounded of his enemies he fell, [wound? 
 
 Man. Wearied with slaughter then, or how? 
 
 Mes. By his own hands. [explain. 
 
 Man. Self- violence? what cause 
 
 Brought him so soon at variance with himself 
 Among his foes? 
 
 Mes. Inevitable cause. 
 
 At once both to destroy, and be destroy'd. 
 The edifice, where all were met to see him, 
 Upon their heads and on his own he pull'd. 
 
 Man. 0, lastly over-strong against thyself! 
 A dreadful way thou took'st to thy revenge. 
 More than enough we know; but while things yet 
 Are in confusion, give us, if thou can's t, 
 Eye-witness of what first or last was done, 
 Relation more particular and distinct. 
 
516 
 
 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Mes. Occasions drew me early to this city; 
 And as the gates I enter'd with sunrise, 
 The morning trumpets festival proclaim'd 
 Through each high street: little I had despatch'd, 
 When all abroad was rumour'd that this day 
 Samson should be brought forth to show the people 
 Proof of his mighty strength in feats and games: 
 I sorrow'd at his captive state, but minded 
 Not to be absent at that spectacle. 
 The building was a spacious theatre 
 Half-round, on two main pillars vaulted high, 
 With seats, where all the lords, and each degree 
 Of sort, might sit in order to behold; 
 The other side was open, where the throng 
 On banks and scaffolds under sky might stand , 
 I among those aloof obscurely stood. 
 The feast and noon grew high, and sacrifice 
 Had fill'd their hearts with mirth, high cheer. 
 
 and wine, 
 
 When to their sports they turn'd. Immediately 
 Was Samson as a public servant brought, 
 In their state livery clad; before him pipes 
 And timbrels, on each side went armed guards, 
 Both horse and foot, before him and behind, 
 Archers and slingers, cataphracts and spears. 
 At sight of him, the people with a shout . 
 Rifted the air, clamouring their god with praise, 
 Who had made their dreadful enemy their thrall. 
 He, patient, but undaunted, where they led him, 
 Came to the place; and what was set before him, 
 Which without help of eye might be assayed, 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 517 
 
 To heave, pull, draw, or break, he still perforiu'd 
 
 All with incredible, stupendous force; 
 
 None daring to appear antagonist. 
 
 At length for intermission sake they led him 
 
 Between the pillars; he his guide requested 
 
 (For so from such as nearer stood we heard) 
 
 As over-tired to let him lean awhile 
 
 With both his arms on those two massy pillars, 
 
 That to the arched roof gave main support. 
 
 He, unsuspicious, led him; which when Samson 
 
 Felt in his arms, with head awhile inclined, 
 
 And eyes fast fixed he stood, as one who pray'd, 
 
 Or some great matter in his mind revolved: 
 
 At last with head erect thus cried aloud: 
 
 " Hitherto, lords, what your commands imposed 
 
 I have perform'd,, as reason was, obeying, 
 
 Not without wonder or delight beheld; 
 
 Now of my own accord such other trial 
 
 I mean to show you of my strength, yet greater, 
 
 As with amaze shall strike all who behold." 
 
 This utter' d, straining all his nerves he bow'd: 
 
 As with the force of winds and waters pent, 
 
 When mountains tremble, those two massy pillars 
 
 With horrible convulsion to and fro 
 
 He tugg'd, he shook, till down they came, and drew 
 
 The whole roof after them, with burst of thunder, 
 
 Upon the heads of all who sat beneath, 
 
 Lords, ladies, captains, counsellors, or priests, 
 
 Their choice nobility and flower, not only 
 
 Of this, but each Philistian city round, 
 
 Met from all parts to solemnize this feast. 
 
518 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Samson, with these immix'd, inevitably 
 Pull'd down the same destruction on himself; 
 The vulgar only 'scaped who stood without. 
 
 Oho. dearly-bought revenge, yet glorious ! 
 Living or dying thou hast fulfill'd 
 The work for which thou wast foretold 
 To Israel, and now liest victorious 
 Among thy slain, self-kill'd, 
 Not willingly, but tangled in the fold 
 Of dire necessity, whose law in death conjoin'd 
 Thee with thy slaughtered foes in number more 
 Than all thy life had slain before. 
 
 1 Semi. While their hearts were jocund and 
 Drunk with idolatry, drunk with wine, [sublime, 
 And fat regorged of bulls and goats, 
 
 Chanting their idol, and preferring 
 
 Before our Living Dread who dwells 
 
 In Silo, his bright sanctuary; 
 
 Among them he a spirit of phrenzy sent, 
 
 Who hurt their minds, 
 
 And urged them on with mad desire, 
 
 To call in haste for their destroyer: 
 
 They, only set on sport and play, 
 
 Unweetingly importuned 
 
 Their own destruction to come speedy upon them. 
 
 So fond are mortal men, 
 
 Fallen into wrath divine, 
 
 As their own ruin on themselves to invite, 
 
 Insensate left, or to sense reprobate, 
 
 And with blindness internal struck. 
 
 2 Semi. But he though blind of sight, 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 519 
 
 Despised, and thought extinguish'd quite, 
 With inward eyes illuminated, 
 His fiery virtue roused 
 From under ashes into sudden flame, 
 And as an evening dragon came, 
 Assailant on the perched roosts 
 And nests in order ranged 
 Of tame villatic fowl: but as an eagle 
 His cloudless thunder bolted on their heads. 
 So Virtue, given for lost, 
 Depress'd and overthrown, as seemM 
 Like that self-begotten bird 
 In the Arabian woods embost, 
 That no second knows nor third, 
 And lay erewhile a holocaust, 
 From out her ashy womb now teem'd, 
 Revives, reflourishes, then vigorous most 
 When most inactive deem'd; 
 And, though her body die, her fame survives 
 A secular bird ages of lives. [now, 
 
 Man. Come, come; no time for lamentation 
 Nor much more cause; Samson hath quit himself 
 Like Samson, and heroicly hath finish'd 
 A life heroic; on his enemies 
 Fully revenged, hath left them years of mourning, 
 And lamentation to the sons of C/aphtor 
 Through all Philistian bounds; to Israel 
 Honour hath left, and freedom, let but them 
 Find courage to lay hold on this occasion : 
 To himself and father's house eternal fame ; 
 And, which is best and happiest yet, all this 
 
520 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 With God not parted from him, as was fear'd, 
 But favouring and assisting to the end. 
 Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail 
 Or knock the breast; no weakness, no contempt, 
 Dispraise, or blame; nothing but well and fair. 
 And what may quiet us in a death so noble. 
 Let us go find the body where it lies 
 Soak'd in his enemies' blood; and from the stream, 
 With lavers pure and cleansing herbs, wash off 
 The clotted gore. I, with what speed the while, 
 (Gaza is not in plight to say us nay) 
 Will send for all my kindred, all my friends, 
 To fetch him hence, and solemnly attend 
 With solemn obsequy, and funeral train, 
 Home to his father's house; there I will build him 
 A monument, and plant it round with shade 
 Of laurel ever green, and branching palm, 
 With all his trophies hung, and acts inroll'd 
 In copious legend, or sweet lyric song. 
 Thither shall all the valiant youth resort, 
 And from his memory inflame their breasts 
 To matchless valour, and adventures high: 
 The virgins also shall, on feastful days, 
 Visit his tomb with flowers; only bewailing 
 His lot unfortunate in nuptial choice, 
 From whence captivity and loss of eyes. 
 Cho. All is best, though we oft doubt 
 What the unsearchable dispose 
 Of Highest Wisdom brings about, 
 And ever best found in the close. 
 Oft he seems to hide his face, 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 521 
 
 But unexpectedly returns, 
 
 And to his faithful champion hath in place 
 
 Bore witness gloriously ; whence Gaza mourns, 
 
 And all that band them to resist 
 
 His uncontrollable intent : 
 
 His servants he, with new acquist 
 
 Of true experience, from this great event, 
 
 With peace and consolation hath dismissed, 
 
 And calm of mind, all passion spent. 
 
 END OF SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 

GOMUS; 
 
 A MASK 
 
 PRESENTED AT LTTDLOW CASTLE, 1634, 
 
 BEFORE 
 
 JOHN EAKL OF BRIDGEWATER, 
 
 Lf 
 
THE PERSONS. 
 
 THE ATTENDANT SPIRIT, afterwards in the habit of 
 
 THYRSIS. 
 
 COMUS, with his crew. 
 THE LADY. 
 FIRST BROTHER. 
 SECOND BROTHER. 
 SABRINA, the Nymph. 
 
 The chief Persons who presented, were 
 The Lord Brackley. 
 Mr Thomas Egerton, his brother. 
 The Lady Alice Egerton. 
 
COMUS. 
 
 The first Scene discovers a wild Wood. 
 The ATTENDANT SPIRIT descends or enters. 
 
 BEFORE the starry threshold of Jove's court 
 My mansion is, where those immortal shapes 
 Of bright aerial spirits live insphered 
 In regions mild of calm and serene air v ^ ^/f^*^" 
 Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot, '"y* 
 Which men call earth; and, with low-thoughted 
 Confined, and pester'd in this pinfold here, [care 
 Strive to keep up a frail and feverish being, 
 Unmindful of the crown that virtue gives, 
 After this mortal change, to her true servants, 
 Amongst the enthroned gods on sainted seats. 
 Yet some there be, that by due steps aspire 
 To lay their just hands on that golden key, 
 That opes the palace of Eternity: 
 To such my errand is; and, but for such, 
 I would not soil these pure ambrosial weeds 
 With the rank vapours of this sin-worn mould. 
 But to my task. Neptune, besides the sway 
 Of every salt flood, and each ebbing stream, 
 Took in by lot 'twixt high and nether Jove 
 
526 COMUS. 
 
 Imperial rule of all the sea-girt isles, 
 
 That, like to rich and various gems, inlay 
 
 The unadorned bosom of the deep: 
 
 Which he, to grace his tributary gods, 
 
 By course commits to several governments, 
 
 And gives them leave to wear their sapphire crowns, 
 
 And wield their little tridents: but this isle, 
 
 The greatest and the best of all the main, 
 
 He quarters to his blue-hair'd deities; 
 
 And all this tract that fronts the falling sun 
 
 A noble peer of mickle trust and power 
 
 Has in his charge, with temper'd awe to guide 
 
 An old and haughty nation, proud in arms: 
 
 Where his fair offspring, nursed in princely lore, 
 
 Are coming to attend their father's state, 
 
 And new-entrusted sceptre: but their way 
 
 Lies through the perplex'd paths of this drear wood, 
 
 The nodding horror of whose shady brows 
 
 Threats the forlorn and wandering passenger; 
 
 And here their tender age might suffer peril, 
 
 But that by quick command from sovereign Jove 
 
 I was dispatch 'd for their defence and guard: 
 
 And listen why; for I will tell you now 
 
 What never yet was heard in tale or song, 
 
 From old or modern bard, in hall or bower. 
 
 Bacchus, that first from out the purple grape 
 Crush'd the sweet poison of misused wine, 
 After the Tuscan mariners transform'd, 
 Coasting the Tyrrhene shore, as the winds listed, 
 On Circe's island fell: (who knows not Circe, 
 The daughter of the Sun, whose charmed cup 
 
COMTTS. 527 
 
 Whoever tasted, lost his upright shape, 
 
 And downward fell into a grovelling swine?) 
 
 This nymph, that gazed upon his clustering locks 
 
 With ivy berries wreathed, and his blithe youth, 
 
 Had by him, ere he parted thence, a son 
 
 Much like his father, but his mother more, 
 
 Whom therefore she brought up, and Comus named: 
 
 Whom ripe and frolic of his full grown age, 
 
 Roving the Celtic and Iberian fields, 
 
 At last betakes him to his ominous wood; 
 
 And, in thick shelter of black shades imbower'd, 
 
 Excels his mother at her mighty art, 
 
 Offering to every weary traveller 
 
 His orient liquor in a crystal glass, [taste, 
 
 To quench the drouth of Phoebus; which as they 
 
 (For most do taste through fond intemperate thirst), 
 
 Soon as the potion works, their human countenance, 
 
 The express resemblance of the gods, is changed 
 
 Into some brutish form of wolf, or bear; 
 
 Or ounce, or tiger, hog, or bearded goat, 
 
 All other parts remaining as they were; 
 
 And they, so perfect in their misery, 
 
 Not once perceive their foul disfigurement, 
 
 But boast themselves more comely than before; 
 
 And all their friends and native home forget, 
 
 To roll with pleasure in a sensual stye. 
 
 Therefore, when any, favour'd of high Jove, 
 
 Chances to pass through this adventurous glade, 
 
 Swift as the sparkle of a glancing star 
 
 I shoot from heaven, to give him safe convoy, 
 
 As now I do: but first I must put off 
 
528 COMUS. 
 
 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 
 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. 
 
 Com. The star, that bids the shepherd fold, 
 Now the top of heaven doth hold; 
 And the gilded car of day 
 His glowing axle doth allay 
 In the steep Atlantic stream; 
 And the slope sun his upward beam 
 Shoots against the dusky pole, 
 Pacing toward the other goal 
 Of his chamber in the East. 
 Meanwhile welcome joy, and feast, 
 Midnight shout, and revelry, 
 Tipsy dance, and jollity. 
 Braid your locks with rosy twine, 
 Dropping odours, dropping wine. 
 Rigour now is gone to bed, 
 And Advice with scrupulous head : 
 
COMUS. 529 
 
 Strict age, and sour Severity, 
 
 With their grave saws, in slumber lie. 
 
 We, that are of purer fire, 
 
 Imitate the starry quire, 
 
 Who, in their nightly watchful spheres, 
 
 Lead in swift round the months and years. 
 
 The sounds and seas, with all their finny drove, 
 
 Now to the moon in wavering morrice move ; 
 
 And, on the tawny sands and shelves, 
 
 Trip the pert fairies and the dapper elves. 
 
 By dimpled brook and fountain-brim, 
 
 The wood-nymphs, deck'd with daisies trim, 
 
 Their merry wakes and pastimes keep : 
 
 What hath night to do with sleep? 
 
 Night hath better sweets to prove; 
 
 Venus now wakes, and wakens Love. 
 
 Come, let us our rites begin ; 
 
 'Tis only day-light that makes sin, 
 
 Which these dun shades will ne'er report. 
 
 Hail, goddess of nocturnal sport, 
 
 Dark-veil'd Cotytto ! to whom the secret flame 
 
 Of midnight torches burns; mysterious dame, 
 
 That ne'er art call'd but when the dragon womb 
 
 Of Stygian darkness spets her thickest gloom, 
 
 And makes one blot of all the air ; 
 
 Stay thy cloudy ebon chair, 
 
 Wherein thou ridest with Hecate, and befriend 
 
 Us thy vow'd priests, till utmost end 
 
 Of all thy dues be done, and none left out; 
 
 Ere the blabbing eastern scout, 
 
 The nice morn, on the Indian steep 
 
530 COMUS. 
 
 From her cabin'd loop-hole peep, 
 
 And to the tell-tale sun descry 
 
 Our conceal' d solemnity. 
 
 Come, knit hands, and beat the ground, 
 
 In a light fantastic round. 
 
 THE MEASURE. 
 
 Break off, break off; I feel the different pace 
 Of some chaste footing near about this ground. 
 Run to your shrouds, within these brakes and trees; 
 Our number may affright: some virgin sure 
 (For so I can distinguish by mine art) 
 Benighted in these woods. Now to my charms, 
 And to my wily trains: I shall ere long 
 Be well stock'd with as fair a herd as grazed 
 About my mother Circe. Thus I hurl 
 My dazzling spells into the spungy air, 
 Of power to cheat the eye with blear illusion, 
 And give it false presentments, lest the place 
 And my quaint habits breed astonishment; 
 And put the damsel to suspicious flight; 
 Which must not be, for that's against my course. 
 I, under fair pretence of friendly ends, 
 And well-placed words of glozing courtesy 
 Baited with reasons not unplausible, 
 Wind me into the easy-hearted man, 
 And hug him into snares. When once her eye 
 Hath met the virtue of this magic dust, 
 I shall appear some harmless villager, 
 Whom thrift keeps up about his country gear. 
 But here she comes: I fairly step aside, 
 
COMTTS. 531 
 
 And hearken, if T may, her business here. 
 
 The LADY enters. 
 
 Lady. This way the noise was, if mine ear be 
 
 true, 
 
 My best guide now: methought it was the sound 
 Of riot and ill-managed merriment, 
 Such as the jocund flute, or gamesome pipe, 
 Stirs up among the loose unletter'd hinds, 
 When for their teeming flocks and granges full, 
 In wanton dance they praise the bounteous Pan, 
 And thank the gods amiss. I should be loath 
 To meet the rudeness and swill'd insolence 
 Of such late wassailers; yet, ! where else 
 Shall I inform my unacquainted feet 
 In the blind mazes of this tangled wood ? 
 My brothers, when they saw me wearied out 
 With this long way, resolving here to lodge 
 Under the spreading favour of these pines, 
 Stepp'd, as they said, to the next thicket-side, 
 To bring me berries, or such cooling fruit 
 As the kind hospitable woods provide. 
 They left me then, when the gray-hooded Even, 
 Like a sad votarist in palmer's weed, 
 Hose from the hindmost wheels of Phoebus' wain. 
 But where they are, and why they came not back, 
 Is now the labour of my thoughts; 'tis likeliest 
 They had engaged their wandering steps too far; 
 And envious darkness, ere they could return, 
 Had stole them from me: else, thievish Night, 
 Why shouldst thou, but for some felonious end, 
 
COMUS. 
 
 In thy dark lantern thus close up the stars, 
 
 That Nature hung in heaven, and fill'd their lamps 
 
 With everlasting oil, to give due light 
 
 To the misled and lonely traveller? 
 
 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 naught 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 
 
 The virtuous mind, that ever walks attended 
 
 By a strong-siding champion, Conscience. 
 
 0, welcome, pure- eyed Faith; white-handed Hope, 
 
 Thou hovering angel, girt with golden wings; 
 
 And thou, unblemish'd 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 unassaiPd. 
 
 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 halloo to my brothers, but 
 
 Such noise as I can make to be heard farthest, 
 
COMUS. 533 
 
 I'll venture; for my new enlivened spirits 
 Prompt me; and they perhaps are not far off. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Sweet Echo, sweetest nymph, that livest unseen 
 
 Within thy airy shell, 
 By slow Meander's margent green, 
 And in the violet-embroider'd vale, 
 
 Where the love-lorn nightingale 
 Nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well ; 
 Gan'st thou not tell me of a gentle pair 
 That likest thy Narcissus are? 
 0, if thou have 
 Hid them in some flowery cave, 
 
 Tell me but where, 
 
 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 harmo- 
 nies. 
 
 Enter COMUS. 
 
 Com. 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, 
 At every fall smoothing the raven-down 
 Of darkness, till it smiled ! I have oft heard 
 My mother Circe with the sirens three, 
 
534 COMFS. 
 
 Amidst the flowery-kirtled Naiades, 
 
 Culling their potent herbs and baleful drugs; 
 
 Who, as they sung, would take the prison'd soul, 
 
 And lap it in Elysium : Scylla wept, 
 
 And chid her barking waves into attention, 
 
 And fell Charybdis murmur'd soft applause : 
 
 Yet they in pleasing slumber lull'd the sense, 
 
 And in sweet sadness robb'd 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, [der ! 
 
 And she shall be my queen. Hail foreign won- 
 
 Whom certain these rough shades did never breed, 
 
 Unless the goddess that in rural shrine 
 
 Dwell'st here with Pan or Sylvan; by bless'd song 
 
 Forbidding every bleak unkindly fog 
 
 To touch the prosperous growth of this tall wood. 
 
 Lady. Nay, gentle shepherd, ill is lost that 
 That is address'd to unattending ears; [praise, 
 Not any boast of skill, but extreme shift 
 How to regain my sever'd company, 
 Compell'd me to awake the courteous Echo 
 To give me answer from her mossy couch, [thus? 
 
 Com. What chance, good lady, hath bereft you 
 
 Lady. Dim darkness, and this leafy labyrinth. 
 
 Com. Could that divide you from near-ushering 
 guides ? 
 
 Lady. They left me weary on a grassy turf. 
 
 Com. By falsehood, or discourtesy, or why? 
 
 Lady. To seek in the valley some cool friendly 
 spring. 
 
COMUS. 535 
 
 Com. And left your fair side all unguarded, lady? 
 
 Lady. They were but twain, and purposed 
 quick return. 
 
 Com. Perhaps forestalling night prevented them. 
 
 Lady. How easy my misfortune is to hit ! 
 
 Com. Imports their loss, beside the present need? 
 
 Lady. No less than if I should my brothers lose. 
 
 Com. Were they of manly prime, or youthful 
 bloom 1 
 
 Lady. As smooth as Hebe's their unrazor'd lips. 
 
 Com. Two such I saw, what time the laboured 
 In his loose traces from the furrow came, [ox 
 And the swink'd 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 fairy vision 
 Of some gay creatures of the element, 
 That in the colours of the rainbow live, [struck, 
 And play in the plighted clouds. I was awe- 
 And, as I pass'd, I worshipp'd; 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? 
 
 Com. Due west it rises from this shrubby point. 
 
 Lady. To find out that, good shepherd, I sup- 
 In such a scant allowance of star-light, [pose, 
 Would overtask the best land-pilot's art, 
 Without the sure guess of well- practised feet. 
 
536 COMUS. 
 
 Com. 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 thatch'd pallet rouse; if otherwise, 
 I can conduct you, lady, to a low 
 But loyal cottage, where you may be safe 
 Till further quest. 
 
 Lady. Shepherd, I take thy word, 
 
 And trust thy honest offer'd 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, bless'd Providence, and square my trial 
 To my proportion'd strength ! Shepherd, lead on. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 Enter the Two BROTHERS. 
 
 El. Br. Unmuffle, ye faint stars; and thou, fair 
 That wont'st to love the traveller's benison, [moon, 
 Stoop thy fair 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 damm'd up 
 With black usurping mists, some gentle taper, 
 
COMUS. 
 
 Though a rush-candle from the wicker hole 
 
 Of some clay habitation, visit us 
 
 With thy long levell'd rule of streaming light; 
 
 And thou shalt be our star of Arcady, 
 
 Or Tyrian cynosure. 
 
 Sec. Er. Or, if our eyes 
 
 Be barr'd that happiness, might we but hear 
 The folded flocks penn'd 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, 
 'T would be some solace yet, some little cheering, 
 In this close dungeon of innumerable boughs. 
 But, 0, that hapless virgin, our lost sister ! 
 Where may she wander now, whither betake her 
 From the chill dew, among rude burs and thistles? 
 Perhaps some cold bank is her bolster now, 
 Or 'gainst the rugged bark of some broad elm 
 Leans her unpillow'd head, fraught with sad fears. 
 What, if in wild amazement and affright; 
 Or, while we speak, within the direful grasp 
 Of savage hunter, or of savage heat! 
 
 El. Er. Peace, brother; be not over exquisite 
 To cast the fashion of uncertain evils: 
 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 
 
538 COMUS. 
 
 And the sweet peace that goodness bosoms ever, 
 As that the single want of light and noise 
 (Not being in danger, as I trust she is not) 
 Could stir the constant mood of her calm thoughts, 
 And put them into misbecoming plight. 
 Virtue could see to do what Virtue would 
 By her own radiant light, though sun and moon 
 Were in the flat sea sunk; and Wisdom's self 
 Oft seeks to sweet retired solitude; 
 Where, with her best nurse, Contemplation, 
 She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings, 
 That in the various bustle of resort 
 Were all too ruffled, and sometimes impair'd. 
 He, that has light within his own clear breast, 
 May sit in the centre, and enjoy bright day: 
 But he, that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts, 
 Benighted walks under the mid-day sun; 
 Himself is his own dungeon. 
 
 Sec. Br. 'Tis most true, 
 
 That musing Meditation most affects 
 The pensive secrecy of desert cell, 
 Far from the cheerful haunt of men and herds, 
 And sits as safe as in a senate-house; 
 For who would rob a hermit of his weeds, 
 His few books, or his beads, or maple dish, 
 Or do his gray hairs any violence ? 
 But Beauty, like the fair Hesperian tree 
 Laden with blooming gold, had need the guard 
 Of dragon watch with unenchanted eye, 
 To save her blossoms, and defend her fruit, 
 From the rash hand of bold Incontinence. 
 
COMUS. 539 
 
 You may as well spread out the unsunn'd heaps 
 Of miser's treasure by an outlaw's den, 
 And tell me it is safe, as bid me hope 
 Danger will wink on opportunity, 
 And let a single helpless maiden pass 
 Uninjured in this wild surrounding waste. 
 Of night or loneliness, it recks me not; 
 I fear the dread events that dog them both, 
 Lest some ill-greeting touch attempt the person 
 Of our unowned sister. 
 
 El. Br. I do not, brother, 
 
 Infer as if I thought my sister's state 
 Secure, without all doubt or controversy; 
 Tet, where an equal poise of hope and fear 
 Does arbitrate the event, my nature is 
 That I incline to hope, rather than fear, 
 And gladly banish squint suspicion. 
 My sister is not so defenceless left 
 As you imagine; she has a hidden strength, 
 Which you remember not. 
 
 Sec. Br. What hidden strength, 
 
 Unless the strength of Heaven, if you mean that? 
 
 El. Br. I mean that too, but yet a hidden 
 
 strength, 
 
 Which, if Heaven gave it, may be term'd her own : 
 'Tis Chastity, my brother, Chastity: 
 She that has that is clad in complete steel; 
 And like a quiver'd nymph with arrows keen, 
 May trace huge forests, and unharbour'd heaths, 
 Infamous hills, and sandy perilous wilds; 
 Where through the sacred rays of Chastity, 
 
540 COMTJS. 
 
 No savage fierce, bandit, or mountaineer, 
 
 Will dare to soil her virgin purity: 
 
 Yea, there, where very desolation dwells, 
 
 By grots and caverns shagg'd with horrid shades, 
 
 She may pass on with unblench'd majesty, 
 
 Be it not done in pride, or in presumption. 
 
 Some say, no evil thing that walks by night 
 
 In fog or fire, by lake or moorish fen, 
 
 Blue meagre hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost 
 
 That breaks his magic chains at curfew time, 
 
 No goblin, or swart fairy of the mine, 
 
 Hath hurtful power o'er true Virginity. 
 
 Do ye believe me yet, or shall I call 
 
 Antiquity from the old schools of Greece 
 
 To testify the arms of Chastity? 
 
 Hence had the huntress Dian her dread bow, 
 
 Fair silver-shafted queen, for ever chaste, 
 
 Wherewith she tamed the brinded lioness 
 
 And spotted mountain-pard, but set at naught 
 
 The frivolous bolt of Cupid ; gods and men 
 
 Fear'd her stern frown, and she was queen of the 
 
 woods. 
 
 What was that snaky-headed Gorgon shield, 
 That wise Minerva wore, unconquer'd virgin, 
 Wherewith she freezed her foes to congeal'd stone, 
 But rigid looks of chaste austerity. 
 And noble grace that dash'd brute violence 
 With sudden adoration and blank awe? 
 So dear to Heaven is saintly chastity, 
 That, when a soul is found sincerely so, 
 A thousand liveried angels lacquey her, 
 
COMUS. 541 
 
 Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt; 
 
 And in clear dream and solemn vision, 
 
 Tell her of things that no gross ear can hear; 
 
 Till oft converse with heavenly habitants 
 
 Begin to cast a beam on the outward shape, 
 
 The unpolluted temple of the mind, 
 
 And turns it by degrees to the soul's essence, 
 
 Till all be made immortal: but when lust, 
 
 By unchaste looks, loose gestures, and foul talk, 
 
 But most by lewd and lavish acts of sin, 
 
 Lets in defilement to the inward parts, 
 
 The soul grows clotted by contagion, 
 
 Imbodies, and imbrutes, till she quite lose 
 
 The divine property of her first being. 
 
 Such are those thick and gloomy shadows damp, 
 
 Oft seen in charnel vaults and sepulchres 
 
 Lingering, and sitting by a new-made grave, 
 
 As loath to leave the body that it loved, 
 
 And link'd itself by carnal sensuality 
 
 To a degenerate and degraded state. 
 
 Sec. Br. How charming is divine philosophy ! 
 Not harsh and crabbed, as dull fools suppose; 
 But musical as is Apollo's lute, 
 And a perpetual feast of nectar'd sweets, 
 Where no crude surfeit reigns. 
 
 El. Br. List, list; I hear 
 
 Some far off halloo break the silent air. 
 
 Sec. Br. Methought so too; what should it be? 
 
 El. Br. For certain 
 
 Either some one like us night-founder'd here. 
 Or else some neighbour woodman, or at worst, 
 
542 COMUS. 
 
 Some roving robber calling to his fellows. 
 
 Sec. Br. Heaven keep my sister ! Again, again, 
 Best draw, and stand upon our guard, [and near! 
 
 HI. Br. I'll halloo: 
 
 If he be friendly, he comes well; if not, 
 Defence is a good cause, and Heaven be for us. 
 
 Enter the ATTENDANT SPIRIT, habited like a 
 Shepherd. 
 
 That halloo I should know; what are you? speak; 
 Come not too near; you fall on iron stakes else. 
 
 Spir. What voice is that? my young lord? speak 
 again. [sure. 
 
 Sec. Br. brother, 'tis my father's shepherd, 
 
 El. Br. Thyrsis? whose artful strains have oft 
 The huddling brook to hear his madrigal, [delay'd 
 And sweeten'd every musk-rose of the dale? 
 How earnest thou here, good swain ? hath any ram 
 Slipp'd from the fold, or young kid lost his dam, 
 Or straggling wether the pent flock forsook? 
 How could'st thou find this dark sequester'd nook? 
 
 Spir. my loved master's heir, and his next 
 I came not here on such a trivial toy [joy, 
 
 As a stray'd ewe, or to pursue the stealth 
 Of pilfering wolf: not all the fleecy wealth, 
 That doth enrich these downs, is worth a thought 
 To this my errand, and the care it brought. 
 But, my virgin lady, where is she? 
 How chance she is not in your company? [blame, 
 
 El. Br. To tell thee sadly, shepherd, without 
 Or our neglect, we lost her as we came. 
 
COMUS. #43 
 
 Spir. Ay me unhappy ! then my fears are true. 
 
 El. Br. What fears, good Thyrsis? Pr'ythee 
 briefly show. 
 
 Spir. I'll tell ye; 'tis not vain or fabulous, 
 (Though so esteem'd by shallow ignorance,) 
 What the sage poets, taught by the heavenly 
 Storied of old, in high immortal verse, [Muse, 
 Of dire chimeras, and enchanted isles, 
 And rifted rocks whose entrance leads to hell; 
 For such there be; but unbelief is blind. 
 
 Within the navel of this hideous wood, 
 Immured in cypress shades, a sorcerer dwells, 
 Of Bacchus and of Circe born, great Comus, 
 Deep skill'd in all his mother's witcheries; 
 And here to every thirsty wanderer 
 By sly enticement gives his baneful cup 4 
 With many murmurs mix'd, whose pleasing poison 
 The visage quite transforms of him that drinks, 
 And the inglorious likeness of a beast 
 Fixes instead, unmoulding reason's mintage 
 Gharacter'd in the face: this have I learn'd, 
 Tending my flocks hard by in the hilly crofts, 
 That brow this bottom-glade; whence night by 
 
 night 
 
 He and his monstrous rout are heard to howl, 
 Like stabled wolves, or tigers at their prey, 
 Doing abhorred rites to Hecate 
 In their obscured haunts of inmost bowers. 
 Yet have they many baits and guileful spells, 
 To inveigle and invite the unwary sense 
 Of them that pass unweeting by the way. 
 
544 COMUS. 
 
 TJiis evening late, by then the chewing flocks 
 Had ta'en their supper on the savoury herb 
 Of knot-grass dew-besprent, and were in fold, 
 I sat me down to watch upon a bank 
 With ivy canopied, and interwove 
 With flaunting honeysuckle; and began, 
 Wrapp'd in a pleasing fit of melancholy, 
 To meditate my rural minstrelsy, 
 Till fancy had her fill; but, ere a close, 
 The wonted roar was up amidst the woods, 
 And fill'd the air with barbarous dissonance; 
 At which I ceased, and listen'd them a while, 
 Till an unusual stop of sudden silence 
 Gave respite to the drowsy frighted steeds, 
 That draw the litter of close-curtain'd sleep: 
 At last a soft and solemn-breathing sound 
 Rose like a stream of rich distill'd perfumes, 
 And stole upon the air, that even silence 
 Was took ere she was 'ware, and wish'd she might 
 Deny her nature, and be never more, 
 Still to be so displaced. I was all ear, 
 And took in strains that might create a soul 
 Under the ribs of death: but, 0! ere long, 
 Too well I did perceive it was the voice 
 Of my most honoured lady, your dear sister. 
 Amazed I stood, harrow' d with grief and fear, 
 And, poor hapless nightingale, thought I, 
 How sweet thou sing'st, how near the deadly snare! 
 Then down the lawns I ran with headlong haste, 
 Through paths and turnings often trod by day; 
 Till, guided by mine ear, I found the place, 
 
COMUS. 545 
 
 Where that damn'd wizard, hid in sly disguise, ' 
 (For so by certain signs I knew,) had met 
 Already, ere my best speed could prevent, 
 The aidless innocent lady, his wish'd prey; 
 Who gently asked if he had seen such two, 
 Supposing him some neighbour villager. 
 Longer I durst not stay, but soon I guess'd 
 Ye were the two she meant; with that I sprung 
 Into swift flight, till I had found you here; 
 But farther know I not. 
 
 Sec. r. night and shades! 
 
 How are ye join'd with hell in triple knot 
 Against the unarm' d weakness of one virgin, 
 Alone and helpless ! Is this the confidence 
 You gave me, brother? 
 
 El. Br. Yes, and keep it still; 
 
 Lean on it safely; not a period 
 Shall be unsaid for me: against the threats 
 Of malice, or of sorcery, or that power 
 Which erring men call chance, this I hold firm; 
 Virtue may be assail' d, but never hurt; 
 Surprised by unjust force, but not enthrall'd; 
 Yea, even that, which mischief meant most harm, 
 Shall in the happy trial prove most glory: 
 But evil on itself shall back recoil, 
 And mix no more with goodness; when at last, 
 Gather'd like scum, and settled to itself, 
 It shall be in eternal restless change 
 Self-fed and self-consumed: if this fail, 
 The pillar'd firmament is rottenness, [let 's on. 
 And earth's base built on stubble. But come; 
 
 2M 
 
546 COMUS. 
 
 Against the opposing will and arm of Heaven 
 May never this just sword be lifted up ! 
 But for that damn'd magician, let him be girt 
 With all the grisly legions that troop 
 Under the sooty flag of Acheron, 
 Harpies and hydras, or all the monstrous forms 
 'Twixt Africa and Ind, I'll find him out, 
 And force him to return his purchase back, 
 Or drag him by the curls to a foul death, 
 Cursed as his life. 
 
 Spir. Alas! good venturous youth, 
 
 I love thy courage yet, and bold emprise; 
 But here thy sword can do thee little stead; 
 Far other arms and other weapons must 
 Be those, that quell the might of hellish charms : 
 He with his bare wand can unthread thy joints, 
 And crumble all thy sinews. 
 
 El. Br. Why, pr'ythee, shepherd, 
 
 How durst thou then thyself approach so near, 
 As to make this relation? 
 
 Spir. Care, and utmost shifts, 
 
 How to secure the lady from surprisal, 
 Brought to my mind a certain shepherd lad, 
 Of small regard to see to, yet well skill'd 
 Tn every virtuous plant, and healing herb, 
 That spreads her verdant leaf to the morning ray: 
 He loved me well, and oft would beg me sing; 
 Which when I did, he on the tender grass 
 Would sit, and hearken ev'n to ecstacy; 
 And in requital ope his leathern scrip, 
 And show me simples of a thousand names, 
 
COMUS. 
 
 547 
 
 Telling their strange and vigorous faculties: 
 
 Amongst the rest a small unsightly root, 
 
 But of divine effect, he cull'd me out; 
 
 The leaf was darkish, and had prickles on it, 
 
 But in another country, as he said, 
 
 Bore a bright golden flower, but not in this soil: 
 
 Unknown, and like esteem'd, and the dull swain 
 
 Treads on it daily with his clouted shoon: 
 
 And yet more med'cinal is it than that moly, 
 
 That Hermes once to wise Ulysses gave: 
 
 J O 
 
 He call'd it hsDmony, and gave it me, 
 
 And bade me keep it as of sovereign use 
 
 'Gainst all enchantments, mildew blast, or damp, 
 
 Or ghastly furies' apparition. 
 
 I pursed it up, but little reckoning made, 
 
 Till now that this extremity compell'd: 
 
 But now I find it true; for by this means 
 
 I knew the foul enchanter though disguised, 
 
 Enter'd the very lime-twigs of his spells, 
 
 And yet came off: if you have this about you, 
 
 (As I will give you when we go,) you may 
 
 Boldly assault the necromancer's hall; 
 
 Where if he be, with dauntless hardihood, 
 
 And brandish'd blade, rush on him; break his glass, 
 
 And shed the luscious liquor on the ground, 
 
 But seize his wand; though he and his cursed crew 
 
 Fierce sign of battle make, and menace high, 
 
 Or like the sons of Vulcan vomit smoke, 
 
 Yet will they soon retire, if he but shrink. 
 
 El. Br. Thyrsis, lead on apace; I'll follow thee; 
 And some good angel bear a shield before us! 
 
548 COMUS. 
 
 The scene changes to a stately palace, set out with all man- 
 ner of deliciousness : soft music : tables spread with all 
 dainties. COMUS appears with his rabble, and the LADY 
 set in an enchanted chair, to whom he offers his glass, which 
 she puts by, and goes about to rise. 
 
 Com. Nay, lady, sit; if I but wave this wand, 
 Your nerves are all chain'd up in alabaster, 
 And you a statue, or, as Daphne was, 
 Root-bound, that fled Apollo. 
 
 Lady. Fool, do not boast; 
 
 Thou canst not touch the freedom of my mind 
 With all thy charms, although this corporal rind 
 Thou hast immanacled, while Heaven sees good. 
 
 Com. Why are you vex'd, lady? Why do you 
 
 frown ? 
 
 Here dwell no frowns, nor anger; from these gates 
 Sorrow flies far: see, here be all the pleasures, 
 That fancy can beget on youthful thoughts, 
 When the fresh blood grows lively, and returns 
 Brisk as the April buds in primrose-season. 
 And first, behold this cordial julep here, 
 That flames and dances in his crystal bonds, 
 With spirits of balm and fragrant syrups mix'd: 
 Not that Nepenthes, which the wife of Thone 
 In Egypt gave to Jove- born Helena, 
 Is of such power to stir up joy as this, 
 To life so friendly, or so cool to thirst. 
 Why should you be so cruel to yourself, 
 And to those dainty limbs, which nature lent 
 For gentle usage and soft delicacy 1 
 But you invert the covenants of her trust, 
 And harshly deal, like an ill borrower, 
 
COMUS. 549 
 
 With that which you received on other terms; 
 Scorning the unexempt condition, 
 By which all mortal frailty must subsist, 
 Refreshment after toil, ease after pain, 
 That have been tried all day without repast, 
 And timely rest have wanted; but, fair virgin. 
 This will restore all soon. 
 
 Lady. 'Twill not, false traitor! 
 
 'Twill not restore the truth and honesty, 
 That thou hast banish'd from thy tongue with lies. 
 Was this the cottage, and the safe abode, 
 Thou toldst me ofl What grim aspects are these, 
 These ugly-headed monsters? Mercy guard me! 
 Hence with thy brew'd enchantments, foul deceiver! 
 Hast thou betray'd my credulous innocence 
 With visor'd falsehood and base forgery; 
 And wouldst thou seek again to trap me here 
 With lickerish baits, fit to ensnare a brute ? 
 Were it a draught for Juno when she banquets, 
 I would not taste thy treasonous offer; none, 
 Lut such as are good men, can give good things; 
 And that which is not good, is not delicious 
 To a well-govern'd and wise appetite. 
 
 Com. foolishness of men ! that lend their ears 
 To those budge doctors of the Stoic fur, 
 And fetch their precepts from the Cynic tub, 
 Praising the lean and sallow abstinence ! 
 Wherefore did Nature pour her bounties forth 
 With such a full and unwithdrawing hand, 
 Covering the earth with odours, fruits, and flocks, 
 Thronging the seas with spawn innumberal)le 
 
550 COMUS. 
 
 But all to please and sate the curious taste? 
 And set to work millions of spinning worms, 
 That in their green shops weave the smooth-hair' d 
 To deck her sons; and, that no corner might [silk, 
 Be vacant of her plenty, in her own loins 
 She hutch'd the all-worshipp'd ore, and precious 
 To store her children with: if all the world [gems, 
 Should in a pet of temperance feed on pulse, 
 Drink the clear stream, and nothing wear but frieze, 
 The All-giver would be unthank'd, would be un- 
 
 praised, 
 
 Not half his riches known, and yet despised: 
 And we should serve him as a grudging master, 
 As a penurious niggard of his wealth; 
 And live like Nature's bastards, not her sons, 
 Who would be quite surcharged with her own weight, 
 And strangled with her waste fertility; [plumes. 
 The earth cumber'd, and the wing'd air dark'd with 
 The herds would over- multitude their lords, 
 The sea o'erfraught would swell, and the unsought 
 
 diamonds 
 
 Would so imblaze the forehead of the deep, 
 And so bestud with stars, that they below 
 Would grow inured to light, and come at last 
 To gaze upon the sun with shameless brows. 
 List, lady; be not coy, and be not cozen'd 
 With that same vaunted name, virginity. 
 Beauty is Nature's coin, must not be hoarded, 
 But must be current; and the good thereof 
 Consists in mutual and partaken bliss, 
 Unsavoury in the enjoyment of itself: 
 
COMUS. 551 
 
 If you let slip time, like a neglected rose, 
 It withers on the stalk with languish'd head. 
 Beauty is Nature's brag, and must be shown 
 In courts, at feasts, and high solemnities, 
 Where most may wonder at the workmanship: 
 It is for homely features to keep home, 
 They had their name thence; coarse complexions. 
 And cheeks of sorry grain, will serve to ply 
 The sampler, and to tease the housewife's wool. 
 What need a vermeil-tinctured lip for that, 
 Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the morn ? 
 There was another meaning in these gifts; [yet. 
 Think what, and be advised : you are but young 
 Lady. I had not thought to have unlocked my 
 In this unhallow'd air, but that this juggler [lips 
 Would think to charm my judgment, as mine eyes, 
 Obtruding false rules prank'd in reason's garb. 
 I hate when Vice can bolt her arguments, 
 And Virtue has no tongue to check her pride. 
 Imposter! do not charge most innocent Nature, 
 As if she would her children should be riotous 
 With her abundance; she, good cateress, 
 Means her provision only to the good, 
 That live according to her sober laws, 
 And holy dictate of spare temperance : 
 If every just man, that now pines with want, 
 Had but a moderate and beseeming share 
 Of that which lewdly-pamper'd luxury 
 Now heaps upon some few with vast excess, 
 Nature's full blessings would be well dispensed 
 In unsuperfluous even proportion, 
 
552 COMUS. 
 
 Arid she no whit encumber'd with her store; 
 And then the Giver would be better thank'd, 
 His praise due paid: for swinish gluttony 
 Ne'er looks to Heaven amidst his gorgeous feast, 
 But with besotted base ingratitude 
 Crams, and blasphemes his Feeder. Shall I go on, 
 Or have I said enow? To him that dares 
 Arm his profane tongue with contemptuous words 
 Against the sun-clad power of chastity, 
 Fain would I something say; yet to what end? 
 Thou hast nor ear, nor soul, to apprehend 
 The sublime notion, and high mystery, 
 That must be utter'd to unfold the sage 
 And serious doctrine of virginity; 
 And thou art worthy that thou shouldst not know 
 More happiness than this thy present lot. 
 Enjoy your dear wit, and gay rhetoric, 
 That hath so well been taught her dazzling fence; 
 Thou art not fit to hear thyself convinced: 
 Yet, should I try, the uncontrolled worth 
 Of this pure cause would kindle my rapt spirits 
 To such a flame of sacred vehemence, 
 That dumb things would be moved to sympathize, 
 And the brute earth would lend her nerves, and 
 Till all thy magic structures, rear'd so high, [shake, 
 Were shatter'd into heaps o'er thy false head. 
 Com. She fables not; I feel that I do fear 
 Her words set off by some superior power; 
 And though not mortal, yet a cold shuddering dew 
 Dips me all o'er, as when the wrath of Jove 
 Speaks thunder, and the chains of Erebus, 
 
COMUS. 553 
 
 To some of Saturn's crew. I must dissemble, 
 And try her yet more strongly. Come, no more; 
 This is mere moral babble, and direct 
 Against the canon-laws of our foundation; 
 I must not suffer this; yet 'tis but the lees 
 And settlings of a melancholy blood: 
 But this will cure all straight; one sip of this 
 Will bathe the drooping spirits in delight, 
 Beyond the bliss of dreams. Be wise, and taste. 
 
 The BROTHERS rush in with swords drawn, wrest his glass out 
 of his hand, and break it against the ground; his rout make 
 sign of resistance, but are all driven in. The ATTENDANT 
 SPIRIT comes in. 
 
 Spir. What, have you let the false enchanter 
 
 'scape? 
 
 0, ye mistook ; ye should have snatch'd his wand, 
 And bound him fast: without his rod reversed, 
 And backward mutters of dissevering power, 
 We cannot free the lady that sits here 
 In stony fetters fix'd, and motionless : 
 Yet stay; be not disturbed; now I bethink me, 
 Some other means I have which may be used, 
 Which once of Meliboeus old I learn'd, 
 The smoothest shepherd that e'er piped on plains. 
 
 There is a gentle nymph not far from hence, 
 That with moist curb sways the smooth Severn 
 Sabrina is her name, a virgin pure; [stream, 
 
 Whilom she was the daughter of Locrine, 
 That had the sceptre from his father Brute. 
 She, guiltless damsel, flying the mad pursuit 
 Of her enraged stepdame Guendolen, 
 
554 COMUS. 
 
 Commended her fair innocence to the flood, 
 That staid her flight with his cross-flowing course. 
 The water-nymphs, that in the bottom play'd, 
 Held up their pearled wrists, and took her in, 
 Bearing her straight to aged Nereus' hall; 
 Who, piteous of her woes, rear'd her lank head, 
 And gave her to his daughters to imbathe 
 In nectar'd lavers, strew'd with asphodel; 
 And through the porch and inlet of each sense 
 Dropp'd in ambrosial oils, till she revived, 
 And underwent a quick immortal change, 
 Made goddess of the river : still she retains 
 Her maiden gentleness, and oft at eve 
 Visits the herds along the twilight meadows, 
 Helping all urchin blasts, and ill-luck signs . 
 That the shrewd meddling elf delights to make; 
 Which she with precious vial'd liquors heals: 
 For which the shepherds at their festivals 
 Carol her goodness loud in rustic lays, 
 And throw sweet garland wreaths into her stream 
 Of pansies, pinks, and gaudy daffodils: 
 And, as the old swain said, she can unlock 
 The clasping charm, and thaw the numming spell, 
 If she be right invoked in warbled song : 
 For maidenhood she loves, and will be swift 
 To aid a virgin, such as was herself, 
 In hard-besetting need: this will I try, 
 And add the power of some adjuring verse. 
 
 SONG. 
 Sabrina fair, 
 
COMUS. 55o 
 
 Listen where thou art sitting 
 Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave, 
 
 In twisted braids of lilies knitting 
 The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair: 
 
 Listen for dear honour's sake, 
 
 Goddess of the silver lake; 
 
 Listen, and save! 
 Listen, and appear to us, 
 In name of great Oceanus; 
 By the earth-shaking Neptune's mace. 
 And Tethy's grave majestic pace; 
 By hoary Nereus' wrinkled look, 
 And the Carpathian wizard's hook; 
 By scaly Triton's winding shell, 
 And old soothsaying Glaucus' spell; 
 By Leucothea's lovely hands, 
 And her son that rules the strands; 
 By Thetis' tinsel- slipper'd feet, 
 And the songs of sirens sweet; 
 By dead Parthenope's dear tomb, 
 And fair Ligea's golden comb, 
 Wherewith she sits on diamond rocks, 
 Sleeking her soft alluring locks; 
 By all the. nymphs that nightly dance 
 Upon thy streams with wily glance; 
 Rise, rise, and heave thy rosy head, 
 From thy coral-paven bed, 
 And bridle in thy headlong wave, 
 Till thou our summons answer'd have. 
 
 Listen, and save! 
 
556 COMTJS. 
 
 SABRINA rises, attended by Water- Nymphs, and 
 sings. 
 
 By the rushy-fringed bank, 
 
 Where grows the willow, and the osier dank, 
 
 My sliding chariot stays, 
 Thick set with agate, and the azure sheen 
 Of turkis blue, and emerald green, 
 
 That in the channel strays; 
 Whilst from off the waters fleet 
 Thus I set my printless feet 
 O'er the cowslip's velvet head, 
 
 That bends not as I tread: 
 Gentle swain, at thy request, 
 
 I am here. 
 
 Spir. Goddess dear, 
 We implore thy powerful hand 
 To undo the charmed band 
 Of true virgin here distress'd, 
 Through the force, and through the wile, 
 Of unbless'd enchanter vile. 
 
 Sab. Shepherd, 'tis my office best 
 To help ensnared chastity: 
 Brightest lady, look on me. 
 Thus I sprinkle on thy breast 
 Drops, that from my fountain pure 
 I have kept, of precious cure; 
 Thrice upon thy finger's tip, 
 Thrice upon thy rubied lip: 
 Next this marble venom'd seat 
 Smear'dwith gums of glutinous heat, 
 
COMUS. 557 
 
 I touch with chaste palms moist and cold : 
 Now the spell hath lost his hold; 
 And I must haste, ere morning hour, 
 To wait in Amphitrite's bower. 
 
 SABRINA descends, and the LADY rises out of her 
 seat. 
 
 Spir. Virgin, daughter of Locrine, 
 Sprung of old Anchises* line, 
 May thy brimmed waves for this 
 Their full tribute never miss 
 From a thousand petty rills, 
 That tumble down the snowy hills: 
 Summer drouth, or singed air 
 Never scorch thy tresses fair, 
 No wet October's torrent flood 
 Thy molten crystal fill with mud; 
 May thy billows roll ashore 
 The beryl and the golden ore; 
 May thy lofty head be crown'd 
 With many a tower and terrace round, 
 And here and there thy banks upon 
 With groves of myrrh and cinnamon ! 
 
 Come, lady, while Heaven lends us grace, 
 Let us fly this cursed place, 
 Lest the sorcerer us entice 
 With some other new device. 
 Not a waste or needless sound, 
 Till we come to holier ground; 
 I shall be your faithful guide 
 Through this gloomy covert wide; 
 
558 COMUS. 
 
 And not many furlongs thence 
 
 Is your father's residence, 
 
 Where this night are met in state 
 
 Many a friend to gratulate 
 
 His wish'd presence; and beside 
 
 All the swains, that there abide, 
 
 With jigs and rural dance resort: 
 
 We shall catch them at their sport; 
 
 And our sudden coming there 
 
 Will double all their mirth and cheer. 
 
 Come, let us haste; the stars grow high; 
 
 But night sits monarch yet in the mild sky. 
 
 The scene changes, presenting Ludlow town and the Presi- 
 dent's castle: then come in Country Dancers; after them 
 the ATTENDANT SPIRIT, with the Two BROTHERS, and the 
 LADY. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Spir. Back shepherds, back; enough your play, 
 Till next sun-shine holiday: 
 Here be, without duck or nod, 
 Other trippings to be trod 
 Of lighter toes, and such court guise 
 As Mercury did first devise, 
 With the mincing Dryades, 
 On the lawns, and on the leas. 
 This second Song presents them to their Father and Mother. 
 
 Noble lord, and lady bright, 
 I have brought ye new delight; 
 Here behold so goodly grown 
 Three fair branches of your own: 
 
COMUS. 559 
 
 Heaven hath timely tried their youth, 
 Their faith, their patience, and their truth; 
 And sent them here through hard assays 
 With a crown of deathless praise, 
 To triumph in victorious dance 
 O'er sensual folly and intemperance. 
 
 The Dances ended } the SPIRIT epiloguizes. 
 
 Spir. To the Ocean now I fly, 
 And those happy climes that lie 
 Where day never shuts his eye, 
 Up in the broad fields of the sky: 
 There I suck the liquid air 
 All amidst the gardens fair 
 Of Hesperus, and his daughters three 
 That sing about the golden tree: 
 Along the crisped shades and bowers 
 Revels the spruce and jocund Spring; 
 The Graces, and the rosy-bosom'd Hours, 
 Thither all their bounties bring; 
 There eternal Summer dwells, 
 And west winds with musky wing, 
 About the cedar'd alleys fling 
 Nard and cassia's balmy smells. 
 Iris there with humid bow 
 Waters the odorous banks, that blow 
 Flowers of more mingled hue 
 Than her purfled scarf can show; 
 And drenches with Elysian dew 
 (List, mortals, if your ears be true) 
 Beds of hyacinth and roses, 
 
560 COMUS. 
 
 Where young Adonis oft reposes, 
 Waxing well of his deep wound 
 In slumber soft, and on the ground 
 Sadly sits the Assyrian queen: 
 But far above in spangled sheen 
 Celestial Cupid, her famed son, advanced, 
 Holds this dear Psyche sweet entraced, 
 After her wandering labours long, 
 Till free consent the gods among 
 Make her his eternal bride, 
 And from her fair unspotted side 
 Two blissful twins are to be born, 
 Youth and joy; so Jove hath sworn. 
 
 But now my task is smoothly done, 
 I can fly, or I can run, 
 Quickly to the green earth's end, 
 Where the bow'd welkin slow doth bend; 
 And from thence can soar as soon 
 To the corners of the moon. 
 
 Mortals, that would follow me, 
 Love virtue; she alone is free: 
 She can teach ye how to climb 
 Higher than the sphery clime; 
 Or, if Virtue feeble were. 
 Heaven itself would stoop to her. 
 
 END OF COMUS. 
 
ARCADES: 
 
 PART OF A MASK OR ENTERTAINMENT, 
 
 Presented to the Countess-Dowager of Derby at Harefield, 
 by some noble persons of her family; who appear on the 
 scene in pastoral habit, moving toward the seat of state, 
 with this song : 
 
 I. SONG. 
 
 LOOK, nymphs and shepherds, look, 
 What sudden blaze of majesty 
 Is that which we from hence descry, 
 Too divine to be mistook: 
 
 This, this is she 
 
 To whom our vows and wishes bend; 
 Here our solemn search hath end. 
 Fame, that, her high worth to raise, 
 Seem'd erst so lavish and profuse, 
 We may justly now accuse 
 Of detraction from her praise: 
 
 Less than half we find express'd; 
 
 Envy bid conceal the rest. 
 Mark, what radiant state she spreads, 
 In circle round her shining throne, 
 Shooting her beams like silver threads: 
 This, this is she alone, 
 
 Sitting like a goddess bright, 
 
 In the centre of her light. 
 
 ft AT 
 
562 ARCADES. 
 
 Might she the wise Latona be, 
 Or the tower'd Cybele, 
 Mother of a hundred gods? 
 Juno dares not give her odds. 
 
 Who had thought this clime had held 
 
 A deity so unparallel'd ? 
 
 As they come forward, the Genius of the wood appears, and, 
 turning toward them, speaks : 
 
 Gen. Stay, gentle swains; for, though in this 
 
 disguise, 
 
 I see bright honour sparkle through your eyes: 
 Of famous Arcady ye are, and sprung 
 Of that renowned flood, so often sung, 
 Divine Alpheus, who by secret sluice 
 Stole under seas to meet his Arethuse; 
 And ye, the breathing roses of the wood, 
 Fair silver-buskin'd nymphs, as great and good; 
 I know, this quest of yours, and free intent, 
 Was all in honour and devotion meant 
 To the great mistress of yon princely shrine, 
 Whom with low reverence I adore as mine; 
 And, with all helpful service, will comply 
 To further this night's glad solemnity; 
 And lead ye, where ye may more near behold 
 What shallow-searching Fame hath left untold; 
 Which I full oft, amidst these shades alone, 
 Have sat to wonder at, and gaze upon: 
 For know, by lot from Jove I am the power 
 Of this fair wood, and live in oaken bower, 
 To nurse the saplings tall, and curl the grove 
 With ringlets quaint, and wanton windings wove: 
 
ARCADES. 
 
 563 
 
 And all my plants I save from nightly ill 
 Of noisome winds, and blasting vapours chill: 
 And from the boughs brush off the evil dew, 
 And heal the harms of thwarting thunder blue, 
 Or what the cross dire-looking planet smites, 
 Or hurtful worm with canker'd venom bites. 
 When evening grey doth rise, I fetch my round 
 Over the mount, and all this hallow'd ground; 
 And early, ere the odorous breath of morn 
 Awakes the slumbering leaves, or tassel'd horn 
 Shakes the high thicket, haste I all about, 
 Number my ranks, and visit every sprout 
 With puissant words, and murmurs made to bless. 
 But else, in deep of night, when drowsiness 
 Hath lock'd up mortal sense, then listen I 
 To the celestial sirens' harmony, 
 That sit upon the nine infolded spheres, 
 And sing to those that hold the vital sheers, 
 And turn the adamantine spindle round, 
 On which the fate of gods and men is wound. 
 Such sweet compulsion doth in music lie, 
 To lull the daughters of Necessity, 
 And keep unsteady Nature to her law, 
 And the low world in measured motion draw 
 After the heavenly tune, which none can hear 
 Of human mould, with gross unpurged ear; 
 And yet such music worthiest were to blaze 
 The peerless height of her immortal praise, 
 Whose lustre leads us, and for her most fit, 
 If my inferior hand or voice could hit 
 Inimitable sounds: yet, as we go, 
 
564 ARCADES. 
 
 Whate'er the skill of lesser gods can show, 
 I will assay her worth to celebrate, 
 And so attend ye toward her glittering state; 
 Where ye may all, that are of noble stem, 
 Approach, and kiss her sacred vesture's hem 
 
 II. SONG. 
 
 O'er the smooth enamell'd green 
 Where no print of step hath been, 
 
 Follow me, as I sing, 
 
 And touch the warbled string, 
 Under the shady roof 
 Of branching elm star- proof. 
 
 Follow me; 
 
 I will bring you where she sits, 
 Clad in splendour as befits 
 
 Her deity. 
 Such a rural queen 
 All Arcadia hath not seen. 
 
 III. SONG. 
 
 Nymphs and shepherds, dance no more 
 By sandy Ladon's lilied banks; 
 On old Lycseus, or Cyllene hoar, 
 
 Trip no more in twilight ranks; 
 Though Erymanth your loss deplore, 
 
 A better soil shall give ye thanks. 
 From the stony Maenalus 
 Bring your flocks, and live with us; 
 Here ye shall have greater grace, 
 To serve the Lady of this place. 
 
ARCADES. 565 
 
 Though Syrinx your Pan's mistress were, 
 Yet Syrinx well might wait on her. 
 
 Such a rural queen 
 All Arcadia hath not seen. 
 
 END OF ARCADES. 
 
LYGIDA8. 
 
 YET once more, ye laurels, and once more 
 Ye myrtles brown, with ivy never sere, 
 I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude; 
 And, with forced fingers rude, 
 Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year: 
 Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear, 
 Compels me to disturb your season due: 
 For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime, 
 Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer. 
 Who would not sing for Lycidas? He knew 
 Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme. 
 He must not float upon his watery bier 
 Unwept, and welter to the parching wind, 
 Without the meed of some melodious tear. 
 
 Begin then, Sisters of the sacred well, 
 That from beneath the seat of Jove doth spring; 
 Begin, and somewhat loudly sweep the string. 
 Hence with denial vain, and coy excuse: 
 So may some gentle Muse 
 With lucky words favour my destined urn; 
 And as he passes, turn, 
 And bid fair peace be to my sable shroud. 
 
 For we were nursed upon the self-same hill; 
 
LTCIBAS 
 
 567 
 
 Fed the same flock by fountain, shade, and rill, 
 Together both, ere the high lawns appear'd 
 Under the opening eyelids of the morn, 
 We drove afield; and both together heard 
 What time the gray-fly winds her sultry horn, 
 Battening our flocks with the fresh dews of night, 
 Oft till the star, that rose at evening bright, 
 Toward heaven's descent had sloped his westering 
 Meanwhile the rural ditties were not mute, [wheel. 
 Temper'd to the oaten flute; 
 Bough Satyrs danced, and Fauns with cloven heel 
 From the glad sound would not be absent long; 
 And old Damoetas loved to hear our song. 
 
 But, 0, the heavy change, now thou art gone, 
 Now thou art gone, and never must return! 
 Thee, shepherd, thee the woods, and desert caves, 
 With wild thyme and gadding vine o'er-grown, 
 And all their echoes, mourn: 
 The willows, and the hazel copses green, 
 Shall now no more be seen 
 Fanning their joyous leaves to thy soft lays. 
 As killing as the canker to the rose, 
 Or taint-worm to the weanling herds that graze, 
 Or frost to flowers, that their gay wardrobe wear, 
 When first the white-thorn blows; 
 Such, Lycidas, thy loss to shepherd's ear. 
 
 Where were ye, Nymphs, when the remorseless 
 Closed o'er the head of your loved Lycidas? [deep 
 For neither were ye playing on the steep, 
 Where your old bards, the famous Druids, lie; 
 Nor on the shaggy top of Mona high; 
 
568 LYCIDAS. 
 
 Nor yet where Deva spreads her wizard stream. 
 Ay me ! I fondly dream ! [done ? 
 
 Had ye been there for what could that have 
 What could the Muse herself that Orpheus bore, 
 The Muse herself, for her enchanting son, 
 Whom universal Nature did lament, 
 When, by the rout that made the hideous roar, 
 His gory visage down the stream was sent, 
 Down the swift Hebrus to the Lesbian shore? 
 
 Alas ! what boots it with incessant care 
 To tend the homely, slighted, shepherd's trade, 
 And strictly meditate the thankless Muse 3 
 Were it not better done, as others use, 
 To sport with Amaryllis in the shade, 
 Or with the tangles of Nesera's hair? 
 Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise, 
 (That last infirmity of noble mind,) 
 To scorn delights, and live laborious days; 
 But the fair guerdon when we hope to find, 
 And think to burst out into sudden blaze, 
 Comes the blind Fury with the abhorred sheers, 
 And slits the thin-spun life. But not the praise, 
 Phcebus replied, and touch' d my trembling ears : 
 Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil, 
 Nor in the glistering foil 
 Set off to the world, nor in broad rumour lies; 
 But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes, 
 And perfect witness of all-judging Jove : 
 As he pronounces lastly on each deed, 
 Of so much fame in heaven expect thy meed. 
 
 0, fountain Arethuse, and thou honour'd flood, 
 
LYCIDAS. 569 
 
 Smooth-sliding Mincius, crown'd with vocal reeds! 
 
 That strain I heard was of a higher mood: 
 
 But now my oat proceeds, 
 
 And listens to the herald of the sea 
 
 That came in Neptune's plea: 
 
 He ask'd the waves, and ask'd the felon winds, 
 
 What hard mishap hath doom'd this gentle swain ? 
 
 And question'd every gust of rugged wings 
 
 That blows from off each beaked promontory: 
 
 They knew not of his story; 
 
 And sage Hippotades their answer brings, 
 
 That not a blast was from his dungeon stray'd; 
 
 The air was calm, and on the level brine 
 
 Sleek Panope with all her sisters play'd. 
 
 It was that fatal and perfidious bark, 
 
 Built in the eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark, 
 
 That sunk so low that sacred head of thine. 
 
 Next Camus, reverend sire, went footing slow, 
 His mantle hairy, and his bonnet sedge, 
 Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge 
 Like to that sanguine flower, inscribed with woe. 
 Ah! who hath reft, quoth he, my dearest pledge? 
 Last came, and last did go, 
 The Pilot of the Galilean lake: 
 Two massy keys he bore of metals twain; 
 The golden opes, the iron shuts amain : 
 He shook his mitred locks, and stern bespake: 
 How well could I have spared for thee, young 
 Enow of such, as for their bellies' sake [swain, 
 Creep, and intrude, and climb into the fold ! 
 Of other care they little reckoning made, 
 
570 LYCIDAS. 
 
 Than how to scramble at the shearers' feast, 
 And shove away the worthy bidden guest ! [to hold 
 Blind mouths ! that scarce themselves know how, 
 A sheep-hook, or have learn'd aught else the least 
 That to the faithful herdman's art belongs ! [sped; 
 What recks it them? What need they? They are 
 And, when they list, their lean and flashy songs 
 Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw : 
 The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed; 
 But swoln with wind, and the rank mist they draw, 
 Wrought inwardly, and foul contagion spread: 
 Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw 
 Daily devours apace, and nothing fed: 
 But that two-handed engine at the door 
 Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more. 
 
 Return, Alpheus; the dread voice is past, 
 That shrunk thy streams; return, Sicilian Muse, 
 And call the vales, and bid them hither cast 
 Their bells, and flowerets of a thousand hues. 
 Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers use 
 Of shades, and wanton winds, and gushing brooks, 
 On whose fresh lap the swart-star sparely looks; 
 Throw hither all your quaint enamell'd eyes, 
 That on the green turf suck the honied showers, 
 And purple all the ground with vernal flowers. 
 Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, 
 The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine, 
 The white pink, and the pansy freak'd with jet, 
 The glowing violet, 
 
 The musk-rose, and the well-attired woodbine, 
 With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, 
 
LYCIDAS. 571 
 
 And every flower that sad embroidery wears : 
 
 Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed, 
 
 And daffadillies fill their cups with tears, 
 
 To strew the laureat hearse where Lycid lies. 
 
 For, so to interpose a little ease, 
 
 Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise. 
 
 Ay me ! Whilst thee the shores and sounding seas 
 
 Wash far away, where'er thy bones are hurl'd; 
 
 Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides, 
 
 Where thou, perhaps, under the whelming tide, 
 
 Visit'st the bottom of the monstrous world; 
 
 Or whither thou, to our moist vows denied, 
 
 Sleep'st by the fable of Bellerus old, 
 
 Where the great vision of the guarded mount 
 
 Looks tow'rd Namancos and Bayona's hold; 
 
 Look homeward, angel, now, and melt with truth: 
 
 And, ye dolphins, waft the hapless youth. 
 
 Weep no more, woful shepherds, weep no more; 
 For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead, 
 Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor: 
 So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed, 
 And yet anon repairs his drooping head, 
 And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore 
 Flames in the forehead of the morning sky: 
 So Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high, [waves; 
 Through the dear might of Him that walk'd the 
 Where, other groves and other streams along, 
 With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves, 
 And hears the unexpressive nuptial song, 
 In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love. 
 There entertain him all the saints above, 
 
572 LYCIDAS. 
 
 In solemn troops, and sweet societies, 
 That sing, and, singing, in their glory move, 
 And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes. 
 Now, Lycidas, the shepherds weep no more: 
 Henceforth thou art the Genius of the shore, 
 In thy large recompense, and shalt be good 
 To all that wander in that perilous flood. 
 Thus sang the uncouth swain to the oaks and rills, 
 While the still morn went out with sandals grey; 
 He touch'd the tender stops of various quills, 
 With eager thought warbling his Doric lay: 
 And now the sun hath stretch'd out all the hills, 
 And now was dropt into the western bay: 
 At last he rose, and twitch'd his mantle blue: 
 To-morrow to fresh woods, and pastures new. 
 
 END OP LYCIDAS. 
 
-Panted ': , 
 
L'ALLEGRO. 
 
 HENCE, loathed Melancholy, 
 
 Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born, 
 
 In Stygian cave forlorn, 
 
 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights 
 Find out some uncouth cell, [unholy ! 
 
 Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous 
 
 And the night raven sings: [wings, 
 
 There, under ebon shades, and low-brow'd rocks, 
 As ragged as thy locks, 
 
 In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell. 
 
 But come, thou goddess fair and free, 
 In Heaven yclep'd Euphrosyne, 
 And by men, heart-easing Mirth; 
 Whom lovely Venus, at a birth, 
 With two sister Graces more, 
 To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore; 
 Or whether, as some sager sing, 
 The frolic wind, that breathes the spring. 
 Zephyr, with Aurora playing, 
 As he met her once a-Maying; 
 There on beds of violets blue, 
 
574 L' ALLEGRO. 
 
 And fresh-blown roses wash'd in dew, 
 Fill'd her with thee a daughter fair, 
 So buxom, blithe, and debonair. 
 
 Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee 
 Jest, and youthful jollity, 
 Quips, and cranks, and wanton wiles, 
 Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles, 
 Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, 
 And love to live in dimple sleek; 
 Sport that wrinkled Care derides, 
 And Laughter holding both his sides. 
 Come, and trip it, as you go, 
 On the light fantastic toe; 
 And in thy right hand lead with thee 
 The mountain-nymph, sweet Liberty; 
 And, if I give thee honour due, 
 Mirth, admit me of thy crew, 
 To live with her, and live with thee, 
 In unreproved pleasures free; 
 To hear the lark begin his flight, 
 And singing, startle the dull night, 
 From his watch-tower in the skies, 
 Till the dappled dawn doth rise; 
 Then to come, in spite of sorrow, 
 And at my window bid good morrow, 
 Through the sweetbrier, or the vine, 
 Or the twisted eglantine^ 
 While the cock, with lively din, 
 Scatters the rear of Darkness thin; 
 And to the stack, or the barn-door, 
 Stoutly struts his dames before: 
 
I/ ALLEGRO. 
 
 575 
 
 Oft listening how the hounds and horn 
 Cheerly rouse the slumbering morn, 
 From the side of some hoar hill, 
 Through the high wood echoing shrill : 
 Sometime walking, not unseen, 
 By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green, 
 Right against the eastern gate, 
 Where the great sun begins his state, 
 Robed in flames, and amber light, 
 The clouds in thousand liveries dight: 
 While the ploughman near at hand, 
 Whistles o'er the furrow'd land, 
 And the milkmaid singeth blithe, 
 And the mower whets his scythe, 
 And every shepherd tells his tale 
 Under the hawthorn in the dale. 
 
 Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures, 
 Whilst the landskip round it measures; 
 Russet lawns, and fallows gray, 
 Where the nibbling flocks do stray; 
 Mountains, on whose barren breast 
 The labouring clouds do often rest; 
 Meadows trim with daisies pied, 
 Shallow brooks, and rivers wide: 
 Towers and battlements it sees 
 Bosom'd high in tufted trees, 
 Where perhaps some beauty lies, 
 The Cynosure of neighbouring eyes. 
 Hard by. a cottage chimney smokes 
 From betwixt two aged oaks, 
 Where Croydon and Thyrsis, met, 
 
576 L' ALLEGRO. 
 
 Are at their savoury dinner set 
 
 Of herbs and other country messes, 
 
 Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses; 
 
 And then in haste her dower she leaves, 
 
 With Thestylis to bind the sheaves; 
 
 Or, if the earlier season lead, 
 
 To the tann'd haycock in the mead. 
 
 Sometimes with secure delight 
 
 The upland hamlets will invite, 
 
 When the merry bells ring round, 
 
 And the jocund rebecks sound 
 
 To many a youth, and many a maid, 
 
 Dancing in the chequer'd shade; 
 
 And young and old come forth to play 
 
 On a sunshine holiday, 
 
 Till the livelong daylight fail : 
 
 Then to the spicy nut-brown ale, 
 
 With stories told of many a feat, 
 
 How fairy Mab the junkets eat: 
 
 She was pinch'd and pull'd, she said; 
 
 And he, by friar's lantern led, 
 
 Tells how the drudging goblin sweat, 
 
 To earn his cream-bowl duly set, 
 
 When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, 
 
 His shadowy flail hath thrash'd the corn, 
 
 That ten day-labourers could not end : 
 
 Then lies him down the lubber fiend, 
 
 And stretched out all the chimney's length, 
 
 Basks at the fire his hairy strength; 
 
 And crop-full out of doors he flings, 
 
 Ere the first cock his matin rings. 
 
L'ALLEGRO. 577 
 
 Thus done the tales, to bed they creep, 
 
 By whispering winds soon lull'd asleep. 
 
 Tower'd cities please us then, 
 
 And the busy hum of men, 
 
 Where throngs of knights and barons bold, 
 
 In weeds of peace, high triumphs hold, 
 
 With store of ladies, whose bright eyes 
 
 Rain influence, and judge the prize 
 
 Of wit or arms, while both contend 
 
 To win her grace, whom all commend. 
 
 There let Hymen oft appear 
 
 In saffron robe, with taper clear, 
 
 And pomp, and feast, and revelry, 
 
 With mask, and antique pageantry; 
 
 Such sights as youthful poets dream 
 
 On summer eaves by haunted stream. 
 
 Then to the well-trod stage anon, 
 
 If Johnson's learned sock be on; 
 
 Or sweetest Shakspeare, Fancy's child, 
 
 Warble his native wood-notes wild. 
 
 And ever, against eating cares, 
 Lap me in soft Lydian airs, 
 Married to immortal verse; 
 Such as the meeting soul may pierce, 
 In notes, with many a winding bout 
 Of linked sweetness long drawn out, 
 With wanton heed and giddy cunning; 
 The melting voice through mazes running, 
 Untwisting all the chains that tie 
 The hidden soul of harmony; 
 
 That Orpheus' self may heave his head 
 
 2 o 
 
578 I/ ALLEGRO. 
 
 From golden slumber on a bed 
 Of heap'd Elysian flowers, and hear 
 Such strains as would have won the ear 
 Of Pluto, to have quite set free 
 His half-regain'd Eurydice. 
 
 These delights if thou canst give, 
 Mirth, with thee I mean to live. 
 
 OF L' ALLEGRO. 
 
IL PENSEROSO. 
 
 HENCE, vain deluding Joys, 
 
 The brood of Folly without father bred ! 
 
 How little you bested, 
 Or fill the fixed mind with all your toys ! 
 Dwell in some idle brain, 
 
 And fancies fond with gaudy shapes possess, 
 
 As thick and numberless 
 
 As the gay motes that people the sun-beams; 
 
 Or likest hovering dreams, 
 The fickle pensioners of Morpheus' train. 
 But hail, thou goddess, sage and holy, 
 Hail, divinest Melancholy! 
 Whose saintly visage is too bright 
 To hit the sense of human sight, 
 And therefore to our weaker view 
 O'erlaid with black, staid Wisdom's hue; 
 Black, but such as in esteem 
 Prince Memnon's sister might beseem. 
 Or that starr'd Ethiop queen that strove 
 To set her beauty's praise above 
 The sea-nymphs, and their powers offended; 
 Yet thou art higher far descended: 
 Thee bright-hair'd Vesta, long of yore, 
 
580 
 
 PENSEROSO. 
 
 To solitary Saturn bore; 
 His daughter she; in Saturn's reign, 
 Such mixture was not held a stain: 
 Oft in glimmering bowers and glades 
 He met her, and in secret shades 
 Of woody Ida's inmost grove, 
 Whilst yet there was no fear of Jove. 
 
 Come, pensive Nun, devout and pure, 
 Sober, steadfast, and demure, 
 All in a robe of darkest grain, 
 Flowing with majestic train, 
 And sable stole of cypress lawn, 
 Over thy decent shoulders drawn. 
 Come, but keep thy wonted state, 
 With even step, and musing gait; 
 And looks commercing with the skies, 
 Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes: 
 Forget thyself to marble, till 
 With a sad leaden downward cast 
 Thou fix them on the earth as fast: 
 And join with thee calm Peace, and Quiet, 
 Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet, 
 And hears the Muses in a ring 
 Aye round about Jove's altar sing. 
 And add to these retired Leisure, 
 That in trim gardens takes his pleasure: 
 But first and chiefest with thee bring, 
 Him that yon soars on golden wing, 
 Guiding the fiery-wheeled throne, 
 The cherub Contemplation; 
 And the mute Silence hist along, 
 
IL PENSEROSO. 581 
 
 'Less Philomel will deign a song, 
 
 In her sweetest, saddest plight, 
 
 Smoothing the rugged brow of night, 
 
 While Cynthia checks her dragon yoke, 
 
 Gently o'er the accustomed oak: 
 
 Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly, 
 
 Most musical, most melancholy ! 
 
 Thee, chauntress, oft, the woods among, 
 
 I woo, to hear thy even- song; 
 
 And, missing thee, I walk unseen 
 
 On the dry smooth-shaven green, 
 
 To behold the wandering moon 
 
 Riding near her highest noon, 
 
 Like one that had been led astray 
 
 Through the heaven's wide pathless way; 
 
 And oft, as if her head she bow'd, 
 
 Stooping through a fleecy cloud. 
 
 Oft, on a plat of rising ground, 
 
 I hear the far-off curfew sound, 
 
 Over some wide-water'd shore, 
 
 Swinging slow with sullen roar: 
 
 Or, if the air will not permit, 
 
 Some still removed place will fit, 
 
 Where glowing embers through the room 
 
 Teach light to counterfeit a gloom; 
 
 Far from all resort of mirth, 
 
 Save the cricket on the hearth, 
 
 Or the bellman's drowsy charm, 
 
 To bless the doors from nightly harm. 
 
 Or let my lamp at midnight hour, 
 
 Be seen in some high lonely tower, 
 
582 IL PENSEROSO. 
 
 Where I may oft outwatch the Bear, 
 With thrice-great Hermes, or unsphere 
 The spirit of Plato, to unfold 
 What worlds or what vast regions hold 
 The immortal mind, that hath forsook 
 Her mansion in her fleshly nook: 
 And of those demons that are found 
 In fire, air, flood, or under ground, 
 Whose power hath a true consent 
 With planet, or with element. 
 Sometimes let gorgeous Tragedy 
 In sceptred pall come sweeping by, 
 Presenting Thebes, or Pelops' line, 
 Or the tale of Troy divine j 
 Or what, though rare, of later age 
 Ennobled hath the buskin'd stage. 
 
 But, 0, sad Virgin, that thy power 
 Might raise Musseus from his bower ! 
 Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing 
 Such notes, as, warbled to the string, 
 Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek, 
 And made Hell grant what love did seek ! 
 Or call up him that left half-told 
 The story of Cambuscan bold, 
 Of Camball and of Algarsife, 
 And who had Cenace to wife, 
 That own'd the virtuous ring and glass; 
 And of the wondrous horse of brass, 
 On which the Tartar king did ride : 
 And if aught else great bards beside 
 In sage and solemn tunes have sung, 
 
IL PENSEROSO. 583 
 
 Of tourneys, and of trophies hung; 
 Of forests and enchantments drear, 
 Where more is meant than meets the ear. 
 
 Thus, Night, oft see me in thy pale career, 
 Till civil-suited Morn appear, 
 Not trick'd and frounced as she was wont 
 With the Attic boy to hunt, 
 But kercheft in a comely cloud, 
 While rocking winds are piping loud, 
 Or usher'd with a shower still, 
 When the gust hath blown his fill, 
 Ending on the rustling leaves, 
 With minute drops from off the eaves. 
 And, when the sun begins to fling 
 His flaring beams, me, goddess, bring 
 To arched walks of twilight groves, 
 And shadows brown, that Sylvan loves, 
 Of pine, or monumental oak, 
 Where the rude axe, with heaved stroke, 
 Was never heard the nymphs to daunt, 
 Or fright them from their hallow'd haunt. 
 There in close covert by some brook, 
 Where no profaner eye may look, 
 Hide me from day's garish eye, 
 While the bee with honeyed thigh, 
 That at her flowery work doth sing, 
 And the waters murmuring, 
 With such consort as they keep, 
 Entice the dewy-feather'd Sleep; 
 And let some strange mysterious Dream 
 Wave at his wings in airy stream 
 
584 IL PENSEROSO. 
 
 Of lively portraiture displayed, 
 
 Softly on my eyelids laid: 
 
 And, as I wake, sweet music breathe 
 
 Above, about, or underneath, 
 
 Sent by some Spirit to mortals good, 
 
 Or the unseen genius of the wood. 
 
 But let my due feet never fail 
 To walk the studious cloisters pale, 
 And love the high-embowed roof, 
 With antic pillars massy proof, 
 And storied windows richly dight, 
 Casting a dim religious light: 
 There let the pealing organ blow, 
 To the full- voiced quire below, 
 In service high, and anthems clear, 
 As may with sweetness, through mine ear, 
 Dissolve me into ecstasies, 
 And bring all heaven before mine eyes. 
 
 And may at last my weary age 
 Find out the peaceful hermitage, 
 The hairy gown and mossy cell, 
 Where I may sit and rightly spell 
 Of every star that neaven doth show 
 And every herb that sips the dew; 
 Till old experience do attain 
 To something like prophetic strain. 
 
 These pleasures, Melancholy, give, 
 And I with thee will choose to live. 
 
 END OF IL PENSEROSO. 
 
SONNETS. 
 
 I. TO THE NIGHTINGALE. 
 
 NIGHTINGALE, that on yon bloomy spray - 
 Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still; ^ 
 Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill, ' 
 While the jolly Hours lead on propitious May. ' 
 
 Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day, ^ ^ 
 First heard before the shallow cuckoo's bill, 
 Portend success in love. 0, if Jove's will ^ 
 Have link'd that amorous power to thy soft lay, 
 
 Now timely sing, ere the rude bird of hate 
 
 Foretell my hopeless doom in some grove nigh; < 
 As thou from year to year hast sung too late c 
 
 For my relief, yet hadst no reason why: 
 
 Whether the Muse or Love call thee his mate, O-- 
 Both them I serve, and of their train am I. ^ 
 
 II. ON HIS BEING ARRIVED AT THE AGE OF 
 TWENTY-THREE. 
 
 How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth,^ ^ 
 Stolen on his wing my three- and- twentieth year! -r 
 My hasting days fly on with full career 
 But my late spring no bud or blossom show'th. 
 
586 SONNETS. 
 
 w 
 
 Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth, 
 That I to manhood am arrived so near; 
 And inward ripeness doth much less appear, v 
 That some more timely-happy spirits endu'th. 
 
 Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow, i 
 
 It shall be still in strictest measure even 
 To that same lot, however mean or high, 
 
 Toward which Time leads me, and the will of j 
 All is, if I have grace to use it so, C- [Heaven; 
 As ever in my great Task-Master's eye. $_/ 
 
 ILL WHEN THE ASSAULT WAS INTENDED TO THE 
 CITY. 
 
 CAPTAIN, or colonel, or knight in arms, [seize, 
 Whose chance on these defenceless doors may 
 If deed of honour did thee ever please, [harms. 
 Guard them, and him within protect from 
 
 He can requite thee; for he knows the charms 
 That call fame on such gentle acts as these, 
 And he can spread thy name o'er land and seas, 
 Whatever clime the sun's bright circle warms. 
 
 Lift not thy spear against the Muses' bower: 
 The great Emathian conqueror bid spare 
 The house of Pindar us, when temple and tower 
 
 Went to the ground: and the repeated air 
 Of sad Electra's poet had the power 
 To save the Athenian walls from ruin bare. 
 
 IV. TO A VIRTUOUS YOUNG LADY. 
 
 LADY, that in the prime of earliest youth [green, 
 Wisely hast shunn'd the broad way and the 
 
SONNETS. 587 
 
 And with those few art eminently seen, 
 That labour up the hill of heavenly truth; 
 
 The better part with Mary and with Euth 
 Chosen thou hast; and they that overween, 
 And at thy growing virtues fret their spleen, 
 No anger find in thee, but pity and ruth. 
 
 Thy care is fix'd, and zealously attends 
 
 To fill thy odorous lamp with deeds of light, 
 And hope that reaps not shame. Therefore be 
 sure, 
 
 Thou, when the bridegroom with his feastful 
 Passes to bliss at the mid hour of night, [friends 
 Hast gain'd thy entrance, Virgin wise and pure. 
 
 V. TO THE LADY MARGAEET LEY. 
 
 DAUGHTER to that good earl, once president 
 Of England's council and her treasury, 
 Who lived in both, unstain'd with gold or fee, 
 
 And left them both, more in himself content, 
 
 Till sad the breaking of that parliament 
 Broke him, as that dishonest victory 
 At Chseronea, fatal to liberty, 
 Kill'd with report that old man eloquent. 
 
 Though later born than to have known the days 
 Wherein your father flourish'd, yet by you, 
 Madam, methinks I see him living yet; 
 
 So well your words his noble virtues praise, 
 That all both judge you to relate them true, 
 And to possess them, honour'd Margaret. 
 
588 SONNETS. 
 
 VI. ON THE DETRACTION WHICH FOLLOWED UPON 
 
 MY WRITING CERTAIN TREATISES. 
 
 A BOOK was writ of late, call'd " Tetrachordon," 
 And woven close, both matter, form, and style; 
 The subject new: it walk'd the town awhile, 
 Numbering good intellects; now seldom pored on. 
 
 Cries the stall-reader, Bless us ! what a word on 
 A title page is this ! and some in file [Mile- 
 Stand spelling false, while one might walk to 
 End green. Why is it harder, sirs, than Gordon, 
 
 Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galasp? [sleek, 
 
 Those rugged names to our like mouths grow 
 That would have made Quintillian stare and 
 gasp. 
 
 Thy age, like ours, soul of Sir John Cheek, 
 Hated not learning worse than toad or asp, 
 When thou taught'st Cambridge, and King 
 Edward, Greek. 
 
 VII. ON THE SAME. 
 
 I DID but prompt the age to quit their clogs 
 By the known rules of ancient liberty, 
 When straight a barbarous noise environs me 
 Of owls, and cuckoos, asses, apes, and dogs: 
 
 As when those hinds that were transform'd to frogs 
 Rail'd at Latona's twin-born progeny, 
 Which after held the sun and moon in fee. 
 But this is got by casting pearl to hogs; 
 
 That bawl for freedom in their senseless mood, 
 And still revolt when truth would set them free. 
 
SONNETS. 589 
 
 License they mean when they cry liberty; 
 For who loves that, must first be wise and good; 
 But from that mark how far they rove we see, 
 For all this waste of wealth, and loss of blood. 
 
 VIII. TO MR H. LA WES, ON THE PUBLISHING 
 
 HIS AIES. 
 
 HARRY, whose tuneful and well-measuring song 
 First taught our English music how to span 
 Words with just note and accent, not to scan 
 With Midas ears, committing short and long; 
 
 Thy worth and skill exempts thee from the throng, 
 With praise enough for Envy to look wan: 
 To after age thou shalt be writ the man, 
 That with smooth air couldst humour best our 
 tongue. [wing 
 
 Thou honour'st verse, and verse must lend her 
 To honour thee, the priest of Phoebus' quire, 
 That tunest their happiest lines in hymn or story. 
 
 Dante shall give Fame leave to set thee higher 
 Than his Casella, whom he woo'd to sing 
 Met in the milder shades of purgatory. 
 
 IX. ON THE RELIGIOUS MEMORY OF MRS CATHERINE 
 THOMSON, MY CHRISTIAN FRIEND, DECEASED DEC. 
 16, 1646. 
 
 WHEN Faith and Love, which parted from thee 
 
 never, 
 
 Had ripen'd thy just soul to dwell with God, 
 Meekly thou didst resign this earthly load [sever. 
 Of death, call'd life; which us from life doth 
 
590 SONNETS. 
 
 Thy works, and alms, and all thy good endeavour, 
 Stay'd not behind, nor in the grave were trod; 
 But, as Faith pointed with her golden rod, 
 Followed thee up to joy and bliss for ever. 
 
 Love led them on; and Faith, who knew them best 
 Thy handmaids, clad them o'er with purple 
 
 beams, 
 And azure wings, that up they flew so drest 
 
 And spake the truth of thee on glorious themes 
 Before the Judge; who thenceforth bid thee rest, 
 And drink thy fill of pure immortal streams. 
 
 X. TO THE LORD GENERAL FAIRFAX. 
 
 FAIRFAX, whose name in arms through Europe 
 
 rings, 
 
 Filling each mouth with envy or with praise, 
 And all her jealous monarchs with amaze 
 And rumours loud, that daunt remotest kings; 
 Thy firm unshaken virtue ever brings 
 
 Victory home, though new rebellions raise 
 Their hydra heads, and the false North displays 
 Her broken league to imp their servant wings. 
 0, yet a nobler task awaits thy hand, 
 
 (For what can war but endless war still breed?) 
 Till truth and right from violence be freed,' 
 And Public faith clear'd from the shameful brand 
 Of public fraud. In vain doth Valour bleed, 
 While Avarice and Rapine share the land. 
 
 XI. TO THE LORD GENERAL CROMWELL. 
 
 CROMWELL, our chief of men, who through a 
 
SONNETS. 591 
 
 Not of war only, but detractions rude, "$" 
 
 Guided by faith and matchless fortitude, 
 
 To peace and truth thy glorious way hast plough'd, 
 
 And on the neck of crowned Fortune proua [ed; ^ 
 Hast rear'd God's trophies, and his work pursu-^ 
 While Darwen stream, with blood of Scots im- 
 
 bued, 
 And Dunbar field resounds thy praises loud, 
 
 And Worcester's laureat wreath. Yet much remains c/ 
 To conquer still; Peace hath her victories A^ 
 No less renown'd than War: new foes arise <^ 
 
 Threatening to bind our souls with secular chains.^ 
 Help us to save free conscience from the paw *" 
 Of hireling wolves, whose gospel is their maw. -^ 
 
 XII. TO SIB HENRY VANE THE YOUNGER. 
 
 VANE, young in years, but in sage counsel old, 
 Than whom a better senator ne'er held 
 The helm of Rome, when gowns, not arms, re- 
 The fierce Epirot and the African bold; [pell'd 
 
 Whether to settle peace, or to unfold 
 
 The drift of hollow states hard to be spell'd; 
 Then to advise how War may, best upheld, 
 Move by her two main nerves, iron and gold, 
 
 In all her equipage: besides to know 
 
 Both spiritual power and civil, what each means, 
 What severs each, thou hast learn'd, which few 
 hare done: 
 
 The bounds of either sword to thee we owe: 
 Therefore on thy firm hand religion leans 
 In peace, and reckons thee her eldest son. 
 
592 SONNETS. 
 
 XIII. ON THE LATE MASSACRE IN PIEDMONT. 
 
 AVENGE, Lord, thy slaughtered saints, whose bones 
 Lie scatter'd on the Alpine mountains cold; 
 Ev'n them who kept thy truth so pure of old, 
 When all our fathers worshipp'd stocks and stones, 
 
 Forget not: in thy book record their groans 
 Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold 
 Slain by the bloody Piedmontese that roll'd 
 Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans 
 
 The vales redoubled to the hills, and they 
 
 To Heaven. Their martyr' d blood and ashes sow 
 O'er all the Italian fields, where still doth sway 
 
 The triple tyrant; that from these may grow 
 A hundred fold, who, having learn'd thy way, 
 Early may fly the Babylonian woe. 
 
 XIV. ON HIS BLINDNESS. 
 
 WHEN I consider how my light is spent 
 
 Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, 
 And that one talent which is death to hide, 
 Lodged with me useless, though my soul more 
 
 To serve therewith my Maker, and present [bent 
 My true account, lest He, returning, chide; 
 Doth God exact day-labour, light denied? 
 I fondly ask: but Patience, to prevent 
 
 That murmur, soon replies; God doth not need 
 Either man's work or his own gifts; who best 
 Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best: his 
 
 Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed, [state 
 And post o'er land and ocean without rest: 
 They also serve who only stand and wait. 
 
SONNETS. 593 
 
 XV. TO MR LAWRENCE. 
 
 LAWRENCE, of virtuous father virtuous son, 
 
 Now that the fields are dank, and ways are mire, 
 Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire 
 Help waste a sullen day, what may be won 
 
 Erom the hard season gaining 1 Time will run 
 On smoother, till Eavonius reinspire 
 The frozen earth, and clothe in fresh attire 
 The lily and rose, that neither sow'd nor spun. 
 
 What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice, 
 Of Attic taste, with wine, whence we may rise 
 To hear the lute well touch'd, or artful voice 
 
 Warble immortal notes and Tuscan air? 
 
 He who of those delights can judge, and spare 
 To interpose them oft, is not unwise. 
 
 XVI. TO CYRIACK SKINNER. 
 
 CYRIACK, whose grandsire on the royal bench 
 Of British Themis, with no mean applause 
 Pronounced, and in his volumes taught, our laws, 
 Which others at their bar so often wrench; 
 
 To-day deep thoughts resolve with me to drench 
 In mirth, that, after, no repenting draws; 
 Let Euclid rest, and Archimedes pause, 
 
 And what the Swede intends, and what the French. 
 
 To measure life learn thou betimes, and know 
 Toward solid good what leads the nearest way; 
 Eor other things mild Heaven a time ordains, 
 
 And disapproves that care, though wise in show, 
 That with superfluous burden loads the day, 
 
 And, when God sends a cheerful hour, refrains. 
 
 2 p 
 
594 SONNETS. 
 
 XVII. TO THE SAME. 
 
 CYRIACK, this three years day these eyes, though 
 To outward view, of blemish or of spot, [clear, 
 Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot; 
 Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear 
 
 Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year, 
 Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not 
 Against Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot 
 Of heart or hope; but still bear up and steer 
 
 Right onward. What supports me, dost thou ask? 
 The conscience, friend, to have lost them over 
 In liberty's defence, my noble task, [plied 
 
 Of which all Europe rings from side to side. 
 This thought might lead me through the 
 
 world's vain mask 
 Content though blind, had I no better guide. 
 
 XVIII. ON HIS DECEASED WIFE. 
 
 METHOTJGHT I saw my late espoused saint 
 Brought to me, like Alcestis, from the grave, 
 Whom Jove's great son to her glad husband 
 gave, 
 
 Rescued from death by force, though pale and faint. 
 
 Mine, as whom wash'd from spot of child-bed 
 Purification in the old Law did save, [taint 
 And such, as yet once more I trust to have 
 Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint; 
 
 Came, vested all in white, pure as her mind: 
 Her face was veil'd; yet to my fancied sight 
 Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shined 
 
SONNETS. 595 
 
 So clear, as in no face with more delight. 
 
 But, 0, as to embrace me she inclined, [night. 
 I waked; she fled; and day brought back my 
 
 END OP SONNETS, 
 
ODES. 
 
 ON THE MORNING OF CHRIST'S NATIVITY. 
 
 THIS is the month, and this the happy morn, & 
 Wherein the Son of Heaven's Eternal King, 
 
 Of wedded Maid and Virgin Mother born, 
 
 Our great redemption from above did bring; 
 
 For so the holy sages once did sing, 
 
 That he our deadly forfeit should release, 
 And with his Father work us a perpetual peace. c 
 
 That glorious form, that light insufferable, 
 And that far-beaming blaze of majesty, 
 Wherewith he wont at heaven's high council-table 
 To sit the midst of Trinal Unity, 
 He laid aside; and here with us to be, 
 
 Forsook the courts of everlasting day, [clay. 
 And chose with us a darksome house of mortal 
 
 Say, heavenly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein 
 
 Afford a present to the Infant God? 
 
 Hast thou no verse, no hymn, or solemn strain, 
 
 To welcome him to this his new abode, 
 
 Now, while the heaven, by the sun's team untrod, 
 
ODES. 597 
 
 Hath took no print of the approachjng lighjfc, 
 And all the spangled host keep watch in squa- 
 drons bright? 
 
 See, how from far, upon the eastern road, 
 The star-led wizards haste with odours sweet: 
 0, run, prevent them with thy humble ode, 
 And lay it lowly at his blessed feet ; 
 Have thou the honour first thy Lord to greet, 
 
 And join thy voice unto the angel quire, [fire. 
 From out his secret altar touch'd with hallow'd 
 
 THE HYMN. 
 IT was the winter wild, 
 While the heaven-born child 
 
 All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies; 
 Nature, in awe to him, 
 
 Had doffd her gaudy trim, C. 
 
 With her great Master so to sympathize: b 
 It was no season then for her cj 
 
 To wanton with the sun, her lusty paramour. 
 
 Only with speeches fair 
 She woos the gentle air 
 
 To hide her guilty front with innocent snow; 
 And on her naked shame, 
 Pollute with sinful blame, 
 
 The saintly veil of maiden white to throw; 
 Confounded, that her Maker's eyes 
 Should look so near upon her foul deformities. 
 
598 ODES. 
 
 But he, her fears to cease, 
 
 Sent down the meek- eyed Peace: 
 
 She, crown'd with olive green, came softly slid- 
 Down through the turning sphere, [ing 
 
 His ready harbinger, 
 
 With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing; 
 And, waving wide her myrtle wand, 
 She strikes a universal peace through sea and land. 
 
 No war, or battle's sound, 
 Was heard the world around; 
 
 The idle spear and shield were high up hung; 
 The hooked chariot stood 
 Unstain'd with hostile blood; 
 
 The trumpet spake not to the armed throng; 
 And kings sat still with awful eye, [by. 
 
 As if they surely knew their sovereign Lord was 
 
 But peaceful was the night, 
 Wherein the Prince of light 
 
 His reign of peace upon the earth began : 
 The winds, with wonder whist, 
 Smoothly the waters kiss'd, 
 
 Whispering new joys to the wild ocean, 
 Who now hath quite forgot to rave, [wave. 
 
 While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed 
 
 The stars, with deep amaze, 
 Stand fix'd in steadfast gaze, 
 
 Bending one way their precious influence : 
 And will not take their flight, 
 
ODES. 
 
 599 
 
 For all the morning light, 
 
 Or Lucifer, that often warn'd them thence ; 
 But in their glimmering orbs did glow, 
 Until their Lord himself bespake, and bid them go. 
 
 And, though the shady gloom 
 Had given day her room, 
 
 The sun himself withheld his wonted speed ; 
 And hid his head for shame, 
 As his inferior flame 
 
 The new-enlighten'd world no more should need: 
 He saw a greater sun appear [bear. 
 
 Than his bright throne, or burning axletree could 
 
 The shepherds on the lawn, 
 Or e'er the point of dawn, 
 
 Sat simply chatting in a rustic row; 
 Full little thought they than, 
 That the mighty Pan 
 
 Was kindly come to live with them below: 
 Perhaps their loves, or else their sheep, 
 Was all that did their silly thoughts so busy keep: 
 
 When such music sweet 
 
 Their hearts and ears did greet, 
 
 As never was by mortal finger strook; 
 Divinely-warbled voice 
 Answered the stringed noise, 
 
 As all their souls in blissful rapture took : 
 The air, such pleasure loath to lose, [close. 
 
 With thousand echoes still prolongs each heavenly 
 
COO ODES. 
 
 Nature that heard such sound, 
 Beneath the hollow round 
 
 Of Cynthia's seat, the airy region thrilling, 
 Now was almost won 
 To think her part was aoue, 
 
 And that her reign had here its last fulfilling : 
 She knew such harmony alone 
 Could hold all heaven and earth in happier union. 
 
 At last surrounds their sight 
 A globe of circular light, 
 
 That with long beams the shamefaced night 
 The helmed cherubim, [array'd ; 
 
 And sworded seraphim, 
 
 Are seen in glittering ranks with wings display'd, 
 Harping in loud and solemn quire, [Heir. 
 
 With unexpressive notes, to Heaven's new-born 
 
 Such music, as 'tis said, 
 Before was never made, 
 
 But when of old the sons of morning sung, 
 While the Creator great 
 His constellations set, 
 
 And the well-balanced world on hinges hung; 
 And cast the dark foundations deep, [keep. 
 
 And bid the weltering waves their oozy channel 
 
 Ring out, ye crystal spheres; 
 Once bless our human ears, 
 
 If ye have power to touch our senses so' 
 And let your silver chime 
 
ODES. 601 
 
 Move in melodious time; 
 
 And let the bass of Heaven's deep organ blow; 
 And with your ninefold harmony, 
 Make up full consort to the angelic symphony. 
 
 For, if such holy song 
 Enwrap our fancy long, 
 
 Time will run back, and fetch the age of gold ; 
 And speckled Vanity 
 Will sicken soon and die, 
 
 And leprous Sin will melt from earthly mould; 
 And Hell itself will pass away, [day. 
 
 And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering 
 
 Yea, Truth and Justice then 
 Will down return to men, 
 
 Orb'd in a rainbow: and, like glories wearing, 
 Mercy will sit between, 
 Throned in celestial sheen, 
 
 With radiant feet the tissued clouds down steer- 
 And Heaven, as at some festival, [ing ; 
 
 Will open wide the gates of her high palace hall. 
 
 But wisest Fate says No, 
 This must not yet be so; 
 
 The Babe yet lies in smiling infancy, 
 That on the bitter cross 
 J\tust redeem our loss; 
 
 So both himself and us to glorify; 
 Yet first, to those enchain'd in sleep, [the deep; 
 The wakeful trump of doom must thunder through 
 
602 ODES. 
 
 With such a horrid clang 
 As on Mount Sinai rang, 
 
 While the red fire and smouldering clouds out 
 The aged earth aghast, [brake: 
 
 With terror of that blast, 
 
 Shall from the surface to the centre shake; 
 When at the world's last session, [throne. 
 
 The dreadful Judge in middle air shall spread his 
 
 And then at last our bliss 
 Full and perfect is, 
 
 But now begins; for, from this happy day, 
 The old dragon, under ground 
 In straiter limits bound, 
 
 Not half so far casts his usurped sway; 
 And, wroth to see his kingdom fail, 
 Swindges the scaly horror of his folded tail. 
 
 The oracles are dumb; 
 No voice or hideous hum 
 
 Runs through the arched roof in words deceiv- 
 Apollo from his shrine [i n g' 
 
 Can no more divine, 
 
 With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. 
 No nightly trance, or breathed spell, [cell. 
 
 Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic 
 
 The lonely mountains o'er, 
 And the resounding shore, 
 
 A voice of weeping heard and loud lament; 
 From haunted spring and dale, 
 
ODES. 603 
 
 Edged with poplar pale, 
 
 The parting Genius is with sighing sent: 
 With flower-inwoven tresses torn, [mourn. 
 
 The nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets 
 
 In consecrated earth, 
 And on the holy hearth, 
 
 The Lars and Lemures moan with midnight 
 In urns, and altars round, [plaint: 
 
 A drear and dying sound 
 
 Affrights the flamens at their service quaint; 
 And the chill marble seems to sweat, 
 While each peculiar Power foregoes his wonted seat. 
 
 Peor and Baalim 
 
 Forsake their temples dim, 
 
 With that twice-batter'd god of Palestine; 
 And mooned Ashtaroth, 
 Heaven's queen and mother both, 
 
 Now sits not girt with tapers' holy shine: 
 The Libyc Hammon shrinks his horn; [mourn: 
 In vain the Tyrian maids their wounded Thammuz 
 
 And sullen Moloch, fled, 
 Hath left in shadows dread 
 
 His burning idol all of blackest hue: 
 In vain with cymbals' ring 
 They call the grisly king, 
 
 In dismal dance about the furnace blue: 
 The brutish gods of Nile as fast, 
 Isis, and Orus, and the dog Anubis, haste: 
 
604 ODES. 
 
 Nor is Osiris seen 
 
 In Memphian grove or green, 
 
 Trampling the unshower'd grass with lowings 
 Nor can he be at rest [loud: 
 
 Within his sacred chest 
 
 Nought but profoundest hell can be his shroud: 
 In vain with timbreli'd anthems dark 
 The sable- stoled sorcerers bear his worshipp'd ark. 
 
 He feels from Juda's land 
 The dreaded Infant's hand; 
 
 The rays of Bethlehem blind his dusky eyn: 
 Nor all the gods beside 
 Longer dare abide; 
 
 Not Typhon huge, ending in snaky twine; 
 Our Babe, to show his Godship true, [crew. 
 
 Can in his swaddling bands control the damned 
 
 So, when the sun in bed, 
 Cur tain' d with cloudy red, 
 
 Pillows his chin upon an orient wave, 
 The flocking shadows pale 
 Troop to the infernal jail; 
 
 Each fetter' d ghost slips to his several grave; 
 And the yellow-skirted fayes [ed maze. 
 
 Fly after the night-steeds, leaving their moon-lov- 
 
 But see, the Virgin blest 
 Hath laid her Babe to rest: 
 
 Time is, our tedious song should here have end- 
 Heaven's youngest-teemed star [ing: 
 Hath fix'd her polish'd car, 
 
ODES. 605 
 
 Her sleeping Lord with handmaid lamp attend- 
 And all about the courtly stable [ing: 
 
 Bright-harness'd angels sit in order serviceable. 
 
 THE PASSION. 
 
 EREWHILE of music, and ethereal mirth, 
 Wherewith the stage of air and earth did ring, 
 And joyous news of heavenly Infant's birth, 
 My Muse with angels did divide to sing; 
 But headlong joy is ever on the wing; 
 
 In wintry solstice, like the shorten'd light, [night. 
 Soon swallow'd up in dark and long out-living 
 
 For now to sorrow must I tune my song, 
 And set my harp to notes of saddest woe, 
 Which on our dearest Lord did seize ere long, 
 Dangers, and snares, and wrongs, and worse than 
 Which he for us did freely undergo: [so, 
 
 Most perfect Hero, tried in heaviest plight [wight! 
 Of labours huge and hard, too hard for human 
 
 He, sovereign Priest, stooping his regal head, 
 That dropt with odorous oil down his fair eyes, 
 Poor fleshly tabernacle entered, 
 His starry front low-rooft beneath the skies: 
 0, what a mask was there, what a disguise ! 
 
 Yet more; the stroke of death he must abide: 
 Then lies him meekly down fast by his brethren's 
 side. 
 
606 ODES. 
 
 These latest scenes confine my roving verse; 
 To this horizon is my Phoebus bound : 
 His Godlike acts, and his temptations fierce, 
 And former sufferings, other where are found; 
 Loud o'er the rest Cremona's trump doth sound : 
 
 Me softer airs befit, and softer strings 
 Of lute, or viol still, more apt for mournful things. 
 
 Befriend me, Night, best patroness of grief : 
 Over the pole thy thickest mantle throw, 
 And work my flatter'd fancy to belief, 
 That heaven and earth are colour'd with my woe; 
 My sorrows are too dark for day to know: 
 The leaves should all be black whereon I write; 
 And letters, where my tears have wash'd, a 
 wannish white. 
 
 See, see the chariot, and those rushing wheels, 
 That whirl'd the prophet up at Chebar flood; 
 My spirit some transporting cherub feels, 
 To bear me where the towers of Salem stood, 
 Once glorious towers, now sunk in guiltless blood : 
 
 There doth my soul in holy vision sit, 
 In pensive trance, and anguish, and ecstatic fit. 
 
 Mine eye hath found that sad sepulchral rock 
 That was the casket of Heaven's richest store; 
 And here, though grief my feeble hands up lock, 
 Yet on the soften'd quarry would I score 
 My plaining verse as lively as before; 
 For sure so well instructed are my tears, 
 
ODES. 607 
 
 That they would fitly fall in order'd characters. 
 
 Or should I thence, hurried on viewless wing, 
 Take up a weeping on the mountains wild, 
 The gentle neighbourhood of grove and spring 
 Would soon unbosom all their echoes mild; 
 And I (for grief is easily beguiled) 
 
 Might think the infection of my sorrows loud 
 Had got a race of mourners on some pregnant 
 cloud. 
 
 This subject the author finding to be above the years he had, 
 when he wrote it, and nothing satisfied with what was 
 begun, left it unfinished. 
 
 UPON THE CIRCUMCISION. 
 YE flaming powers, and winged warriors bright, 
 That erst with music, and triumphant song, 
 First heard by happy watchful shepherds' ear, 
 So sweetly sung your joy the clouds along 
 Through the soft silence of the listening night ; 
 Now mourn ; and, if sad share with us to bear 
 Your fiery essence can distil no tear, 
 Burn in your sighs, and borrow 
 Seas wept from our deep sorrow: 
 He, who with all Heaven's heraldry whilere 
 Enter'd the world, now bleeds to give us ease : 
 Alas, how soon our sin 
 Sore doth begin 
 
 His infancy to seize ! 
 more exceeding love, or law more just ! 
 
608 ODES. 
 
 Just law indeed, but more exceeding love ! 
 
 For we, by rightful doom remediless, 
 
 Were lost in death, till he that dwelt above 
 
 High throned in secret bliss, for us frail dust 
 
 Emptied his glory, ev'n to nakedness ; 
 
 And that great covenant which we still transgress 
 
 Entirely satisfied; 
 
 And the full wrath beside 
 
 Of vengeful justice bore for our excess; 
 
 And seals obedience first, with wounding smart, 
 
 This day; but, ! ere long, 
 
 Huge pangs and strong 
 
 Will pierce more near his heart. 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF A FAIR INFANT, DYING 
 OF A COUGH. 
 
 FAIREST flower, no sooner blown but blasted, 
 Soft silken primrose fading timelessly, 
 Summer's chief honour, if thou hadst out-lasted 
 Bleak Winter's force that made thy blossom dry; 
 For he, being amorous on that lovely dye 
 
 That did thy cheek envermeil, thought to kiss, 
 But kill'd, alas ! and then bewail'd his fatal bliss. 
 
 For since grim Aquilo, his charioteer, 
 By boisterous rape the Athenian damsel got, 
 He thought it touch'd his deity full near, 
 If likewise he some fair one wedded not, 
 Thereby to wipe away the infamous blot, 
 Of long-uncoupled bed and childless eld, 
 
OPES. 609 
 
 Which 'mongst the wanton gods, a foul reproach 
 was held. 
 
 So, mounting up in icy-pearled car, 
 Through middle empire of the freezing air 
 He wander'd long, till thee he spied from far; 
 There ended was his quest, there ceased his care. 
 Down he descended from his snow-soft chair; 
 
 But, all unawares, with his cold-kind embrace 
 Unhoused thy virgin soul from her fair hiding- 
 place. 
 
 Yet art thou not inglorious in thy fate; 
 For so Apollo, with unweeting hand, 
 Whilom did slay his dearly-loved mate, 
 Young Hyacinth, born on Eurotas' strand, 
 Young Hyacinth, the pride of Spartan land; 
 
 But then transform'd him to a purple flower : 
 Alack, that so to change thee Winter had no 
 power ! 
 
 Yet can I not persuade me thou art dead, 
 Or that thy corse corrupts in earth's dark womb, 
 Or that thy beauties lie in wormy bed, 
 Hid from the world in a low-delved tomb. 
 Could Heaven for pity thee so strictly doom ? 
 0, no ! for something in thy face did shine 
 Above mortality, that show'd thou wast divine. 
 
 Resolve me then, soul most surely blest, 
 
 (If so it be that thou these plaints dost hear,) 
 
 2 Q 
 
610 ODES. 
 
 Tell me, bright spirit, where er thou hoverest; 
 Whether above that high first moving sphere, 
 Or in the Elysian fields, (if such there were;) 
 0, say me true if thou wert mortal wight, 
 And why from us so quickly thou didst take thy 
 flight? 
 
 Wert thou some star, which from the ruin'd roof 
 Of shaked Olympus by mischance didst fall ; 
 Which careful Jove in nature's true behoof 
 Took up, and in fit place did reinstal ? 
 Or did of late Earth's sons besiege the wall 
 
 Of sheeny Heaven, and thou, some goddess fled, 
 Amongst here below to hide thy nectar'd head? 
 
 Or wert thou that just maid, who once before 
 Forsook the hated earth, 0, tell me sooth, 
 And earnest again to visit us once more? 
 Or wert thou that sweet smiling youth? 
 Or that crown'd matron sage, white-robed Truth? 
 Or any other of that heavenly brood, [good ? 
 Let down in cloudy throne to do the world some 
 
 Or wert thou of the golden-winged host, 
 Who, having clad thyself in human weed, 
 To earth from thy prefixed seat didst post, 
 And after short abode fly back with speed, 
 As if to show what creatures heaven doth breed : 
 
 Thereby to set the hearts of men on fire 
 TO scorn the sordid world, and unto heaven aspire? 
 
ODES. 611 
 
 But, ! why didst thou not stay here below 
 To bless us with thy Heaven-loved innocence, 
 To slake his wrath whom sin hath made our foe, 
 To turn swift-rushing black Perdition hence, 
 Or drive away the slaughtering Pestilence, 
 
 To stand 'twixt us and our deserved smart? [art. 
 But thou canst best perform that office where thou 
 
 Then thou, the mother of so sweet a child, 
 Her false imagined loss cease to lament, 
 And wisely learn to curb thy sorrows wild : 
 Think what a present thou to God hast sent, 
 And render him with patience what he lent. 
 This, if thou do, he will an offspring give, 
 That, till the world's last end, shall make thy 
 name to live. 
 
 ON TIME. 
 
 FLY, envious Time, till thou run out thy race: 
 Call on the lazy leaden-stepping hours, 
 Whose speed is but the heavy plummet's pace ; 
 And glut thyself with what thy womb devours, 
 Which is no more than what is false and vain, 
 And merely mortal dross ; 
 So little is our loss, 
 So little is thy gain ! 
 
 For when as each thing bad thou hast entomb'd. 
 And last of all thy greedy self consumed, 
 Then long Eternity shall greet our bliss 
 With an individual kiss; 
 
612 ODES. 
 
 And Joy shall overtake us as a flood; 
 When every thing that is sincerely good 
 And perfectly divine, 
 
 With Truth, and Peace, and love, shall ever shine 
 About the supreme throne 
 Of him, to whose happy-making sight alone 
 When once our heavenly-guided soul shall climb; 
 Then, all this earthy grossness quit, 
 Attired with stars, we shall for ever sit, [0 Time. 
 Triumphing over death, and Chance, and thee, 
 
 AT A SOLEMN MUSIC. 
 BLEST pair of Sirens, pledges of Heaven's joy; 
 Sphere-born harmonious sisters, Voice and Verse; 
 Wed your divine sounds, and mix'd power employ 
 Dead things with imbreathed sense able to pierce; 
 And to our high-raised phantasy present 
 That undisturbed song of pure concent, 
 Aye sung before the sapphire-coloured throne 
 To him that sits thereon, 
 With saintly shout, and solemn jubilee; 
 Where the bright seraphim, in burning row, 
 Their loud uplifted angel trumpets blow; 
 And the cherubic host, in thousand quires, 
 Touch their immortal harps of golden wires, 
 With those just spirits that wear victorious palms, 
 Hymns devout and holy psalms 
 Singing everlastingly: 
 
 That we on earth, with undiscording voice, 
 May rightly answer that melodious noise; 
 
ODES. 
 
 613 
 
 As once we did, till disproportion^ sin 
 
 Jarr'd against Nature's chime, and with harsh din 
 
 Broke the fair music that all creatures made 
 
 To their great Lord, whose love their motion 
 
 In perfect diapason, whilst they stood [swing'd 
 
 In first obedience, and their state of good. 
 
 0, may we soon again renew that song, 
 
 And keep in tune with Heaven, till God ere long 
 
 To his celestial concert us unite, 
 
 To live with him, and sing in endless morn of light! 
 
 AN EPITAPH ON THE MARCHIONESS OF 
 WINCHESTER, 
 
 THIS rich marble doth inter 
 
 The honour'd wife of Winchester, 
 
 A viscount's daughter, an earl's heir, 
 
 Besides what her virtues fair 
 
 Added to her noble birth, 
 
 More than she could own from earth. 
 
 Summers three times eight save one 
 
 She had told ; alas ! too soon, 
 
 After so short time of breath, 
 
 To house with darkness and with death. 
 
 Yet had the number of her days 
 
 Been as complete as was her praise, 
 
 Nature and Fate had had no strife 
 
 In giving limit to her life. 
 
 Her high birth, and her graces sweet, 
 Quickly found a lover meet ; 
 The virgin quire for her request 
 
614 ODES. 
 
 The god that sits at marriage feast : 
 He at their invoking came, 
 But with a scarce well-lighted flame; 
 And in his garland, as he stood, 
 Ye might discern a cypress bud. 
 Once had the early matrons run 
 To greet her of a lovely son; 
 And now with second hope she goes, 
 And calls Lucina to her throes : 
 But, whether by mischance or blame, 
 Atropos for Lucina came; 
 And with remorseless cruelty 
 Spoil'd at once both fruit and tree : 
 The hapless babe, before his birth, 
 Had burial, yet not laid in earth; 
 And the languished mother's womb 
 Was not long a living tomb. 
 
 So have I seen some tender slip, 
 Saved with care from winter's nip, 
 The pride of her carnation train, 
 Pluck'd up by some unheedy swain, 
 Who only thought to crop the flower 
 New shot up from vernal shower; 
 But the fair blossom hangs the head 
 Sideways, as on a dying bed; 
 And those pearls of dew she wears 
 Prove to be presaging tears, 
 Which the sad morn had let fall 
 On her hastening funeral. 
 
 Gentle lady, may thy grave 
 Peace and quiet ever have; 
 
ODES. 615 
 
 After this thy travel sore 
 
 Sweet rest seize thee evermore, 
 
 That, to give the world increase, 
 
 Shorten'd hast thy own life's lease. 
 
 Here, besides the sorrowing 
 
 That thy noble house doth bring, 
 
 Here be tears of perfect moan 
 
 Wept for thee in Helicon; 
 
 And some flowers, and some bays, 
 
 For thy hearse, to strew the ways, 
 
 Sent thee from the banks of Came, 
 
 Devoted to thy virtuous name; 
 
 Whilst thou, bright saint, high sitt'st in glory, 
 
 Next her, much like to thee in story, 
 
 That fair Syrian shepherdess, 
 
 Who, after years of barrenness, 
 
 The highly-favour'd Joseph bore 
 
 To him that served for her before ; 
 
 And at her next birth, much like thee, 
 
 Through pangs fled to felicity, 
 
 Far within the bosom bright 
 
 Of blazing Majesty and Light: 
 
 There with thee, new welcome saint, 
 
 Like fortunes may her soul acquaint, 
 
 With thee there clad in radiant sheen, 
 
 No marchioness, but now a queen. 
 
 SONG ON MAY MORNING. 
 
 Now the bright morning-star, day's harbinger, 
 Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her 
 
616 ODES. 
 
 The flowery May, who from her green lap throws 
 The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose. 
 
 Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire 
 
 Mirth, and youth, and warm desire; 
 
 Woods and groves are of thy dressing; 
 
 Hill and dale doth hoast thy blessing ! 
 Thus we salute thee with our early song, 
 And welcome thee, and wish thee long. 
 
 END OP ODES. 
 
MISCELLANIES. 
 
 ANNO ^ETATIS XIX. 
 
 At a Vacation Exercise in the College, part Latin, part 
 English. The Latin speeches ended, the English thus 
 began : 
 
 HAIL, native Language, that by sinews weak 
 Didst move my first endeavouring tongue to speak; 
 And madest imperfect words with childish trips, 
 Half unpronounced, slide through my infant lips; 
 Driving dumb Silence from the portal door, 
 Where he had mutely sat two years before! 
 Here I salute thee, and thy pardon ask, 
 That now I use thee in my latter task: 
 Small loss it is that thence can come unto thee; 
 I know my tongue but little grace can do thee : 
 Thou need'st not be ambitious to be first; 
 Believe me, I have thither pack'd the worst : 
 And, if it happen as I did forecast, 
 The daintiest dishes shall be served up last. 
 I pray thee, then, deny me not thy aid 
 For this same small neglect that I have made: 
 But haste thee straight to do me once a pleasure, 
 And from thy wardrobe bring thy chiefest trea- 
 sure; 
 
618 MISCELLANIES. 
 
 Not those new-fangled toys, and trimming slight, 
 
 Which takes our late fantastics with delight; 
 
 But cull those richest robes, and gayest attire, 
 
 Which deepest spirits and choicest wits desire. 
 
 I have some naked thoughts that rove about, 
 
 And loudly knock to have their passage out; 
 
 And, weary of their place, do only stay, 
 
 Till thou hast deck'd them in thy best array; 
 
 That so they may, without suspect or fears, 
 
 Fly swiftly to this fair assembly's ears : 
 
 Yet I had rather, if I were to choose, 
 
 Thy service in some graver subject use, 
 
 Such as may make thee search thy coffers round, 
 
 Before thou clothe my fancy in fit sound : 
 
 Such where the deep transported mind may soar 
 
 Above the wheeling poles, and at heaven's door 
 
 Look in, and see each blissful deity, 
 
 How he before the thunderous throne doth lie, 
 
 Listening to what unshorn Apollo sings 
 
 To the touch of golden wires, while Hebe brings 
 
 Immortal nectar to her kingly sire; 
 
 Then passing through the sphere of watchful fire, 
 
 And misty regions of wide air next under, 
 
 And hills of snow, and lofts of piled thunder, 
 
 May tell at length how green-eyed Neptune raves, 
 
 In heaven's defiance mustering all his waves; 
 
 Then sing of secret things that came to pass 
 
 When beldame Nature in her cradle was; 
 
 And last of kings, and queens, and heroes old. 
 
 Such as the wise Demodocus once told 
 
 In solemn songs at king Alcinous' feast, 
 
MISCELLANIES. 619 
 
 While sad Ulysses* soul, and all the rest, 
 
 Are held, with his melodious harmony, 
 
 In willing chains and sweet captivity. 
 
 But fie, my wandering Muse, how thou dost stray ! 
 
 Expectance calls thee now another way: 
 
 Thou know'st it must be now thy only bent 
 
 To keep in compass of thy predicament: 
 
 Then quick about thy purposed business come, 
 
 That to the next I may resign my room. 
 
 Then ENS is represented as father of the Predicaments, his 
 ten sons, whereof the eldest stood for Substance with his 
 canons, which ENS, thus speaking, explains : 
 
 Good luck befriend thee, son; for, at thy birth, 
 The fairy ladies danced upon the hearth; 
 Thy drowsy nurse hath sworn she did them spy 
 Come tripping to the room where thou didst lie; 
 And, sweetly singing round about thy bed, 
 Strew all their blessings on thy sleeping head. 
 She heard them give thee this, that thou shouldst 
 From eyes of mortals walk invisible: [still 
 
 Yet there is something that doth force my fear; 
 For once it was my dismal hap to hear 
 A sibyl old, bow-bent with crooked age, 
 That far events full wisely could presage, 
 And in time's long and dark prospective glass 
 Foresaw what future days should bring to pass; 
 Your son, said she, nor can you it prevent, 
 Shall subject be to many an accident: 
 O'er all his brethren he shall reign as king, 
 Yet every one shall make him underling; 
 And those, that cannot live from him asunder, 
 
620 MISCELLANIES. 
 
 Ungratefully shall strive to keep him under: 
 In worth and excellence he shall outgo them; 
 Yet, being above them, he shall be below them; 
 From others he shall stand in need of nothing, 
 Yet on his brothers shall depend for clothing: 
 To find a foe it shall not be his hap, 
 And Peace shall lull him in her flowery lap; 
 Yet shall he live in strife, and at his door 
 Devouring War shall never cease to roar; 
 Yea, it shall be his natural property 
 To harbour those that are at enmity. 
 What power, what force, what mighty spell, if not 
 Your learned hands, can loose this Gordian knot? 
 
 The next, QUANTITY and QUALITY, spake in prose; then 
 RELATION was called by his name. 
 
 Rivers, arise; whether thou be the son 
 Of utmost Tweed, or Oose, or gulfy Dun, 
 Or Trent, who, like some Earth-born giant, spreads 
 His thirty arms along the indented meads; 
 Or sullen Mole, that runneth underneath ; 
 Or Severn swift, guilty of maiden's death ; 
 Or rocky Avon, or of sedgy Lee, 
 Or coaly Tine, or ancient hallow'd Dee; 
 Or Humber loud, that keeps the Scythian's name; 
 Or Medway smooth, or royal-tower'd Thame. 
 [The rest was prose.] 
 
MISCELLANIES. 621 
 
 AN EPITAPH 
 
 ON THE ADMIRABLE DRAMATIC POET WILLIAM 
 SHAKSPEARE. 
 
 WHAT needs my Shakspeare,for his honour'd bones, 
 
 The labour of an age in piled stones? 
 
 Or that his hallow'd reliques should be hid 
 
 Under a starry-pointing pyramid? 
 
 Dear son of Memory, great heir of Fame, 
 
 What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name? 
 
 Thou, in our wonder and astonishment, 
 
 Hast built thyself a live-long monument. 
 
 For whilst, to the shame of slow-endeavouring art, 
 
 Thy easy numbers flow; and that each heart 
 
 Hath, from the leaves of thy unvalued book, 
 
 Those Delphic lines with deep impression took; 
 
 Then thou, our fancy of itself bereaving, 
 
 Dost make us marble with too much conceiving ; 
 
 And, so sepulchred, in such pomp dost lie, 
 
 That kings, for such a tomb, would wish to die. 
 
 ON THE UNIVERSITY CARRIER, 
 
 Who sickened in the time of his vacancy, being forbid to go 
 to London by reason of the plague. 
 
 HERE lies old Hobson ; Death hath broke his girt, 
 And here, alas ! hath laid him in the dirt; 
 Or else, the ways being foul, twenty to one, 
 He's here stuck in a slough, and overthrown. 
 'Twas such a shifter, that, if truth were known, 
 Death was half glad when he had got him down : 
 
622 
 
 MISCELLANIES. 
 
 For he had, any time this ten years full, 
 
 Dodged with him betwixt Cambridge and the Bull: 
 
 And surely Death could never have prevail'd, 
 
 Had not his weekly course of carriage fail'd- 
 
 But lately finding him so long at home, 
 
 And thinking now his journey's end was come, 
 
 And that he had ta'en up his latest inn; 
 
 In the kind office of a chamberlain [night, 
 
 Show'd him his room where he must lodge that 
 
 Pull'd off his boots, and took away the light; 
 
 If any ask for him. it shall be said, 
 
 Hobson has supp'd, and's newly gone to bed. 
 
 ANOTHER ON THE SAME. 
 
 HERE lieth one, who did most truly prove 
 
 That he could never die while he could move; 
 
 So hung his destiny, never to rot 
 
 While he might still jog on and keep his trot, 
 
 Made of sphere-metal, never to decay 
 
 Until his revolution was at stay. 
 
 Time numbers motion; yet, without a crime 
 
 'Gainst old truth, motion number'd out his time; 
 
 And, like an engine moved with wheel and weight. 
 
 His principles being ceased, he ended straight. 
 
 Rest, that gives all men life, gave him his death, 
 
 And too much breathing put him out of breath ; 
 
 Nor were it contradiction to affirm, 
 
 Too long vacation hasten'd on his term. 
 
 Merely to drive the time away he sicken'd, [en'd; 
 
 Fainted, and died, nor would with ale be quick- 
 
MISCELLANIES. 623 
 
 Nay, quoth he, on his swooning bed outstretch'd, 
 If I may n't carry, sure I'll ne'er be fetch'd, [ers, 
 But vow, though the cross doctors all stood hear- 
 For one carrier put down to make six bearers. 
 Ease was his chief disease; and, to judge right, 
 He died for heaviness that his cart went light : 
 His leisure told him that his time was come, 
 And lack of load made his life burdensome, 
 That ev'n to his last breath, there be that say 't, 
 As he were press'd to death, he cried, More weights 
 But, had his doings lasted as they were, 
 He had been an immortal carrier. 
 Obedient to the moon, he spent his date 
 In course reciprocal, and had his fate 
 Link'd to the mutual flowing of the seas; 
 Yet strange to think, his wain was his increase : 
 His letters are deliver'd all and gone; 
 Only remains this superscription. 
 
 ON THE NEW FORCERS OF CONSCIENCE, 
 UNDER THE LONG PARLIAMENT. 
 
 BECAUSE you have thrown off your prelate lord, 
 And with stiff vows renounced his liturgy, 
 To seize the widow'd whore Plurality 
 From them whose sin ye envied, not abhorr'd ; 
 
 Dare ye for this adjure the civil sword 
 
 To force our consciences that Christ set free, 
 And ride us with a classic hierarchy 
 Taught ye by mere A. S. and Rotherford? 
 
 Men, whose life, learning, faith, and pure intent 
 
 Would have been held in high esteem with Paul, 
 
624 MISCELLANIES. 
 
 Must now be named and printed heretics 
 By shallow Edwards and Scotch what d' ye call : 
 But we do hope to find out all your tricks, 
 Your plots and packing, worse than those of 
 Trent; 
 
 That so the parliament 
 
 May, with their wholesome and preventive shears, 
 Clip your phylacteries, though balk your ears, 
 
 And succour our just fears, 
 When they shall read this clearly in your charge, 
 New Presbyter is but Old Priest writ large. 
 
 END OF MISCELLANIES. 
 
TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 THE FIFTH ODE OF HORACE, LIB. I. 
 WHAT slender youth, bedew'd with liquid odours, 
 Courts thee on roses in some pleasant cave, 
 
 Pyrrha? For whom bind'st thou 
 
 In wreaths thy golden hair, 
 Plain in thy neatness? 0, how oft shall he 
 On faith and changed gods complain, and seas 
 
 Rough with black winds, and storms 
 
 Unwonted shall admire! 
 Who now enjoys thee credulous, all gold, 
 Who always vacant, always amiable 
 
 Hopes thee, of flattering gales 
 
 Unmindful. Hapless they, [vow'd 
 
 To whom thou untried seem'st fair ! Me, in my 
 Picture, the sacred wall declares to have hung 
 
 My dank and dropping weeds 
 
 To the stern god of sea. 
 
 FROM GEOFFREY OF MONMOUTH. 
 
 BRUTUS thus addresses DIANA in the country of Leogecia: 
 GODDESS of shades, and huntress, who at will [deep; 
 Walk'st on the rowling spheres, and through the 
 
 2R 
 
626 TEANSLATIONS. 
 
 On thy third reign, the earth, look now, and tell 
 What land, what seat of rest, thou bidd'st me seek, 
 What certain seat, where I may worship thee 
 For aye, with temples vow'd and virgin quires. 
 
 To whom, sleeping before the altar, DIANA answers in a 
 vision the same night: 
 
 Brutus, far to the west, in the ocean wide, 
 Beyond the realm of Gaul, a land there lies, 
 Sea-girt it lies, where giants dwelt of old; 
 Now void, it fits thy people : thither bend 
 Thy course; there shalt thou find a lasting seat; 
 There to thy sons another Troy shall rise, 
 And kings be born of thee, whose dreadful might 
 Shall awe the world, and conquer nations bold. 
 
 FROM DANTE. 
 
 AH, Constantine ! of how much ill was cause, 
 Not thy conversion, but those rich domains 
 That the first wealthy pope received of thee! 
 
 FROM DANTE. 
 
 FOUNDED in chaste and humble poverty, [horn, 
 'Gainst them that rais'd thee dost thou lift thy 
 Impudent whore? where hast thou placed thy 
 In thy adulterers, or thy ill-got wealth? [hope? 
 Another Constantine comes not in haste. 
 
 FROM ARIOSTO. 
 
 : THEN pass'd he to a flowery mountain green, 
 Which once smelt sweet, now stinks as odiously: 
 
TRANSLATIONS. 627 
 
 This was the gift, if you the truth will have, 
 That Constantine to good Sylvester gave. 
 
 FROM HORACE. 
 
 WHOM do we count a good man? Whom but he 
 Who keeps the laws and statutes of the senate, 
 Who judges in great suits and controversies, 
 Whose witness and opinion wins the cause ? 
 But his own house, and the whole neighbourhood, 
 Sees his foul inside through his whited skin. 
 
 FROM EURIPIDES. 
 
 THIS is true liberty, when freeborn men, 
 Having to advise the public, may speak free; 
 Which he who can, and will, deserves high praise: 
 Who neither can, nor will, may hold his peace : 
 What can be juster in a state than this? 
 
 FROM HORACE. 
 
 LAUGHING, to teach the truth, 
 What hinders? As some teachers give to boys 
 Junkets and knacks, that they may learn apace. 
 
 FROM HORACE. 
 
 JOKING decides great things, 
 Stronger and better oft than earnest can. 
 
 FROM SOPHOCLES. 
 
 'Tis you that say it, not I. You do the deeds, 
 And your ungodly deeds find me the words. 
 
628 TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 FROM SENECA. 
 
 THERE can be slain 
 No sacrifice to God more acceptable, 
 Than an unjust and wicked king. 
 
 PSALM I. 
 
 Done into verse, 1653. 
 
 BLESS'D is the man who hath not walk'd astray 
 
 In counsel of the wicked, and in the way 
 
 Of sinners hath not stood, and in the seat 
 
 Of scorners hath not sat. But in the great 
 
 Jehovah's law is ever his delight, 
 
 And in his law he studies day and night. 
 
 He shall be as a tree, which planted grows 
 
 By watery streams, and in his season knows 
 
 To yield his fruit, and his leaf shall not fall ; 
 
 And what he takes in hand shall prosper all. 
 
 Not so the wicked; but as chaff which fann'd 
 
 The wind drives, so the wicked shall not stand 
 
 In judgment, or abide their trial then, 
 
 Nor sinners in the assembly of just men. 
 
 For the Lord knows the upright way of the just, 
 
 And the way of bad men to ruin must. 
 
 PSALM II. 
 
 Done August 8, 1653. Terzette. 
 
 WHY do the Gentiles tumult, and the nations 
 Muse a vain thing, the kings of the earth upstand 
 With power, and princes in their congregations 
 
 Lay deep their plots together through each land 
 
TRANSLATIONS. 629 
 
 Against the Lord and his Messiah dear? 
 
 Let us break off, say they, by strength of hand 
 Their bonds, and cast from us, no more to wear, 
 
 Their twisted cords: He, who in heaven doth 
 dwell, [severe, 
 
 Shall laugh; the Lord shall scoff them; then, 
 Speak to them in his wrath, and in his fell 
 
 And fierce ire trouble them ; but I, saith he, 
 
 Anointed have my King (though ye rebel) 
 On Zion, my holy hill. A firm decree 
 
 I will declare : the Lord to me hath said, 
 
 Thou art my Son, I have begotten thee 
 This day: ask of me, and the grant is made; 
 
 As thy possession I on thee bestow 
 
 The heathen; and, as thy conquest to be sway'd, 
 Earth's utmost bounds: them shalt thou bring 
 full low 
 
 With iron sceptre bruised, and them disperse 
 
 Like to a potter's vessel shiver'd so. 
 And now be wise at length, ye kings averse ; 
 
 Be taught, ye judges of the earth; with fear 
 
 Jehovah serve, and let your joy converse 
 With trembling : kiss the Son, lest he appear 
 
 In anger, and ye perish in the way, 
 
 If once his wrath take fire, like fuel sere. 
 Happy all those who have in him their stay! 
 
 PSALM III. Augusts, 1653. 
 
 When he fled from Absalom. 
 LIED, how many are my foes! 
 How many those, 
 
630 TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 That in arms against me rise ! 
 
 Many are they, 
 
 That of my life distrustfully thus say; 
 No help for him in God there lies. 
 But thou, Lord, art my shield, my glory, 
 
 Thee, through my story, 
 The exalter of my head I count: 
 
 Aloud I cried 
 
 Unto Jehovah : He full soon replied, 
 And heard me from his holy mount. 
 I lay and slept; I waked again; 
 
 For my sustain 
 Was the Lord. Of many millions 
 
 The populous rout 
 
 I fear not, though, encamping round about, 
 They pitch against me their pavilions. 
 Rise, Lord; save me, my God; for Thou 
 
 Hast smote ere now 
 On the cheek-bone all my foes ; 
 
 Of men abhorr'd 
 
 Hast broke the teeth. This help was from the 
 Thy blessing on thy people flows. [Lord; 
 
 PSALM IV. August 10,1653. 
 
 ANSWER me when I call, 
 God of my righteousness ; 
 In straits, and in distress, 
 Thou didst me disenthrall 
 And set at large; now spare, 
 
 Now pity me, and hear my earnest prayer. 
 Great ones, how long will ye 
 
TRANSLATIONS. 631 
 
 My glory have in scorn 1 ? 
 How long be thus forborne 
 Still to love vanity ? 
 To love, to seek, to prize, 
 
 Things false and vain, and nothing else but lies? 
 Yet know, the Lord hath chose, 
 Chose to himself apart, 
 The good and meek of heart ; 
 (For whom to choose He knows;) 
 Jehovah from on high 
 
 Will hear my voice, what time to him I cry. 
 Be awed, and do not sin ; 
 Speak to your hearts alone, 
 Upon your beds, each one, 
 And be at peace within. 
 Offer the offerings just 
 
 Of righteousness, and in Jehovah trust. 
 Many there be that say, 
 Who yet will show us good? 
 Talking like this world's brood : 
 But, Lord, thus let me pray; 
 On us lift up the light, 
 
 Lift up the favour of thy countenance bright. 
 Into my heart more joy 
 And gladness thou hast put, 
 Than when a year of glut 
 Their stores doth overcloy, 
 And from their plenteous grounds 
 
 With vast increase their corn and wine abounds. 
 In peace at once will I 
 Both lay me down and sleep, 
 
632 TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 For thou alone dost keep 
 Me safe where'er I lie; 
 As in a rocky cell, 
 
 Thou, Lord, alone, in safety makest me dwell. 
 
 PSALM V. August 12, 1653. 
 
 JEHOVAH, to my words give ear, 
 My meditation weigh ; 
 
 The voice of my complaining hear, 
 My King and God; for unto thee I pray. 
 
 Jehovah, thou my early voice 
 Shalt in the morning hear; 
 
 In the morning I to thee with choice 
 Will rank my prayers, and watch till thou appear. 
 For thou art not a God that takes 
 In wickedness delight; 
 
 Evil with thee no biding makes ; 
 Fools or madmen stand not within thy sight. 
 
 All workers of iniquity 
 
 Thou hatest; and them unblest 
 
 Thou wilt destroy that speak a lie; 
 The bloody and guileful man God doth detest. 
 
 But I will in thy mercies dear, 
 Thy numerous mercies, go 
 
 Into thy house ; I, in thy fear, 
 Will towards thy holy temple worship low. 
 
 Lord, lead me in thy righteousness, 
 Lead me because of those 
 
 That do observe if I transgress; 
 Set thy ways right before, where my step goes. 
 
 For, in his faltering mouth unstable, 
 
TRANSLATIONS. 633 
 
 No word is firm or sooth; 
 Their inside, troubles miserable; 
 An open grave their throat, their tongue they 
 God, find them guilty; let them fall, [smooth. 
 
 By their own counsels quell'd ; 
 Push them in their rebellions all 
 Still on; for against thee they have rebell'd. 
 Then all who trust in thee, shall bring 
 
 Their joy; while thou from blame 
 Defend'st them, they shall ever sing 
 And shall triumph in thee, who love thy name. 
 For thou, Jehovah, wilt be found 
 
 To bless the just man still; 
 As with a shield, thou wilt surround 
 Him with thy lasting favour and good will. 
 
 PSALM VI. August 13, 1653. 
 
 LORD, in thine anger do not reprehend me, 
 
 Nor in thy hot displeasure me correct; 
 
 Pity me, Lord, for I am much deject, 
 
 And very weak and faint; heal and amend me: 
 
 For all my bones, that ev'n with anguish ache, 
 
 Are troubled; yea, my soul is troubled sore; 
 
 And thou, Lord, how long? Turn, Lord; 
 
 restore 
 
 My soul; 0, save me for thy goodness sake : 
 For in death no remembrance is of thee; 
 
 Who in the grave can celebrate thy praise? 
 
 Wearied I am with sighing out my days 
 Nightly my couch I make a kind of sea ; 
 My bed I water with my tears ; mine eye 
 
634 TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Through grief consumes, is waxen old and dark 
 In the midst of all mine enemies that mark. 
 
 Depart, all ye that work iniquity, 
 
 Depart from me ; for the voice of my weeping 
 The Lord hath heard; the Lord hath heard my 
 My supplication with acceptance fair [prayer; 
 
 The Lord will own, and have me in his keeping. 
 
 Mine enemies shall all be blank and dash'd 
 
 With much confusion; then, grown red with 
 
 shame, 
 They shall return in haste the way they came, 
 
 And in a moment shall be quite abash'd. 
 
 PSALM VII. August 14, 1653. 
 Upon the words of Chush the Benjamite against him. 
 LORD, my God, to thee I fly; 
 Save me and secure me under 
 Thy protection, while I cry; 
 Lest, as a lion, and no wonder, 
 He haste to tear my soul asunder, 
 Tearing, and no rescue nigh. 
 Lord, my God, if I have thought 
 Or done this ; if wickedness 
 Be in my hands ; if I have wrought 
 111 to him that meant me peace; 
 Or to him have render'd less, 
 And not freed my foe for nought ; 
 Let the enemy pursue my soul, 
 And overtake it; let him tread 
 My life down to the earth, and roll 
 In the dust my glory dead, 
 
TRANSLATIONS. G3D 
 
 In the dust ; and there, outspread. 
 
 Lodge it with dishonour foul. 
 
 Rise, Jehovah, in thine ire, 
 
 Rouse thyself, amidst the rage 
 
 Of my foes, that urge like fire ; 
 
 And wake for me, their fury assuage: 
 
 Judgment here thou didst engage 
 
 And command, which I desire. 
 
 So the assemblies of each nation 
 
 Will surround thee, seeking right; 
 
 Thence to thy glorious habitation 
 
 Return on high, and in their sight. 
 
 Jehovah judgeth most upright 
 
 All people from the world's foundation. 
 
 Judge me, Lord; be judge in this 
 
 According to my righteousness, 
 
 And the innocence which is 
 
 Upon me: cause at length to cease 
 
 Of evil men the wickedness, 
 
 And their power that do amiss: 
 
 But the just establish fast, 
 
 Since thou art the just God that tries 
 
 Hearts and reins. On God is cast 
 
 My defence, and in him lies, 
 
 In him, who, both just and wise, 
 
 Saves the upright of heart at last. 
 
 God is a just judge and severe, 
 
 And God is every day offended; 
 
 If the unjust will not forbear, 
 
 His sword he whets, his bow hath bended 
 
636 TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Already, and for him intended 
 
 The tools of death, that waits him near. 
 
 His arrows purposely made he 
 
 For them that persecute. Behold, 
 
 He travels big with vanity; 
 
 Trouble he hath conceived of old, 
 
 As in a womb; and from that mould 
 
 Hath at length brought forth a lie. 
 
 He digg'd a pit, and delved it deep, 
 
 And fell into the pit he made: 
 
 His mischief, that due course doth keep, 
 
 Turns on his head; and his ill trade 
 
 Of violence will, undelay'd, 
 
 Fall on his crown with ruin steep. 
 
 Then will I Jehovah's praise 
 
 According to his justice raise, 
 
 And sing the name and deity 
 
 Of Jehovah, the Most High. 
 
 PSALM VIII. August 14, 1653. 
 
 JEHOVAH, our Lord, how wondrous great 
 
 And glorious is thy name through all the earth ! 
 So as above the heavens thy praise to set 
 
 Out of the tender mouths of latest birth. 
 Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings thou 
 
 Hast founded strength because of all thy foes, 
 To stint the enemy, and slack the avenger's brow, 
 
 That bends his rage thy providence to oppose. 
 When I behold thy heavens, thy fingers' art; [set 
 
 The moon and stars which thou so bright hast 
 
TRANSLATIONS. 637 
 
 In the pure firmament; then saith my heart, 
 
 0, what is man, that thou remember'st yet 
 And think'st upon him; or of man begot, 
 
 That him thou visit'st, and of him art found ? 
 Scarce to be less than gods, thou madest his lot; 
 
 With honour and with state thou hast him 
 
 crown'd. 
 O'er the works of thy hand thou madest him lord; 
 
 Thou hast put all under his lordly feet; 
 All flocks and herds, by the commanding word; 
 
 All beasts, that in the field or forest meet; 
 Fowl of the heavens, and fish that through the wet 
 
 Sea-paths in shoals do slide, and know no dearth. 
 Jehovah, our Lord, how wondrous great 
 
 And glorious is thy name through all the earth ! 
 
 April, 1648. J. M. 
 
 Nine of the Psalms done into metre, wherein all, but what 
 is in a different character, are the very words of the text, 
 translated from the original. 
 
 PSALM LXXX. 
 
 1 THOU, Shepherd, that dost Israel keep, 
 
 Give ear in time of need; 
 Who leadest like a flock of sheep 
 
 Thy loved Joseph's seed; 
 That sitt'st between the cherubs bright, 
 
 Between their wings outspread; 
 Shine forth, and from thy cloud give light, 
 
 And on our foes thy dread. 
 
 2 In Ephraim's view and Benjamin's, 
 
 And in Manasses' sight, 
 
638 TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Awake thy strength, come, and be seen 
 To save us by thy might. 
 
 3 Turn us again; thy grace divine 
 
 To us, God, vouchsafe; 
 Cause thou thy face on us to shine, 
 And then we shall be safe. 
 
 4 Lord God of Hosts, how long wilt thou, 
 
 How long wilt thou declare 
 Thy smoking wrath and angry brow 
 Against thy people's prayer? 
 
 5 Thou feed'st them with the bread of tears , 
 
 Their bread with tears they eat; 
 And makest them largely drink the tears 
 Wherewith their cheeks are wet. 
 
 6 A strife thou makest us and a prey 
 
 To every neighbour foe; 
 Among themselves they laugh, they play, 
 And flouts at us they throw. 
 
 7 Return us, and thy grace divine, 
 
 God of Hosts, vouchsafe; 
 Cause thou thy face on us to shine, 
 And then we shall be safe. 
 
 8 A vine from Egypt thou hast brought, 
 
 Thy free love made it thine; 
 And drovest out nations, proud and haut, 
 To plant this lovely vine. 
 
 9 Thou didst prepare for it a place, 
 
 And root it deep and fast; 
 
 That it began to grow apace, 
 
 And fill'd the land at last. 
 
TRANSLATIONS. 639 
 
 10 With her green shade that cover'd all, 
 
 The hills were overspread; 
 Her boughs as high as cedars tall 
 Advanced their lofty head. 
 
 1 1 Her branches on the western side 
 
 Down to the sea she sent, 
 
 And upward to that river wide 
 
 Her other branches went. 
 
 12 Why hast thou laid her hedges low, 
 
 And broken down her fence; 
 That all may pluck her, as they go, 
 With rudest violence ? 
 
 13 The tusked boar out of the wood 
 
 Upturns it by the roots; 
 Wild beasts there browse, and make their food 
 Her grapes and tender shoots. 
 
 14 Return now, God of Hosts; look down 
 
 From heaven, thy seat divine ; 
 Behold us, but without a frown; 
 And visit this thy vine. 
 
 15 Visit this vine, which thy right hand 
 
 Hath set, and planted long; 
 And the young branch, that for thyself 
 Thou hast made firm and strong. 
 
 16 But now it is consumed with fire, 
 
 And cut with axes down; 
 They perish at thy dreadful ire, 
 At thy rebuke and frown. 
 
 17 Upon the man of thy right hand 
 
 Let thy good hand be laid; 
 
640 TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Upon the son of man, whom thou 
 
 Strong for thyself hast made. 
 10 So shall we not go back from thee 
 
 To ways of sin and shame : 
 Quicken us thou; then gladly we 
 
 Shall call upon thy name. 
 19 Return us, and thy grace divine, 
 
 Lord God of Hosts, vouchsafe : 
 Cause thou thy face on us to shine, 
 
 And then we shall be safe. 
 
 PSALM LXXXI. 
 
 1 To God our strength sing loud and clear, 
 
 Sing loud to God our King; 
 To Jacob's God, that all may hear, 
 Loud acclamations ring. 
 
 2 Prepare a hymn, prepare a song, 
 
 The timbrel hither bring; 
 The cheerful psaltery bring along, 
 And harp with pleasant string. 
 
 3 Blow, as is wont, in the new moon, 
 
 With trumpets' lofty sound 9 
 The appointed time, the day whereon 
 Our solemn feast comes round. 
 
 4 This was a statute given of old 
 
 For Israel to observe; 
 A law of Jacob's God, to hold, 
 
 From whence they might not swerve. 
 
 5 This he a testimony ordain'd 
 
 Tn Joseph, not to change, 
 
TRANSLATIONS. 641 
 
 When as he pass'd through Egypt land; 
 The tongue I heard was strange. 
 
 6 From burden, and from slavish toil, 
 
 I set his shoulder free : 
 His hands from pots, and miry soil, 
 Deliver'd were by me. 
 
 7 When trouble did thee sore assail, 
 
 On me then didst thou call; 
 And I to free thee did not fail, 
 
 And led thee out of thrall. 
 I answer'd thee in thunder deep, 
 
 With clouds encompass'd round 
 I tried thee at the water steep 
 
 Of Meriba renown 'd. 
 
 8 Hear, my people, hearken well, 
 
 I testify to thee, 
 Thou ancient stock of Israel, 
 If thou wilt list to me : 
 
 9 Throughout the land of thy abode 
 
 No alien god shall be ; 
 Nor shalt thou to a foreign god 
 In honour bend thy knee. 
 
 10 I am the Lord thy God, which brought 
 
 Thee out of Egypt land; 
 Ask large enough, and I, besought, 
 Will grant thy full demand. 
 
 1 1 And yet my people would not hear, 
 
 Nor hearken to my voice, 
 And Israel, whom I loved so dear, 
 
 Misliked me for his choice. 
 
 2 s 
 
642 TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 12 Then did I leave them to their will, 
 
 And to their wandering mind ; 
 Their own conceits they follow' d still, 
 
 Their own devices blind. 
 130, that my people would be wise, 
 
 To serve me all their days! 
 
 And, 0, that Israel would advise 
 
 To walk my righteous ways ! 
 
 14 Then would I soon bring down their foes, 
 
 That now so proudly rise; 
 And turn my hand against all those 
 That are their enemies. 
 
 15 Who hate the Lord should then be fain 
 
 To bow to him and bend; 
 But they, his people should remain; 
 Their time should have no end: 
 
 16 And he would feed them/rom the shock 
 
 With flour of finest wheat. 
 
 And satisfy them from the rock 
 
 With honey for their meat. 
 
 PSALM LXXXII. 
 
 1 GOD in the great assembly stands 
 
 Of kings and lordly states; 
 Among the gods, on both his hands, 
 He judges and debates. 
 
 2 How long will ye pervert the right 
 
 With judgment false and wrong, 
 Favouring the wicked by your might, 
 Who thence grow bold and strong? 
 
TRANSLATIONS. 643 
 
 3 Regard the weak and fatherless; 
 
 Dispatch the poor man's cause; 
 And raise the man in deep distress 
 By just and equal laws. 
 
 4 Defend the poor and desolate, 
 
 And rescue from the hands 
 Of wicked men the low estate 
 Of him that help demands. 
 
 5 They know not, nor will understand ; 
 
 In darkness they walk on; 
 The earth's foundations are all moved, 
 And out of order gone. 
 
 6 I said that ye were gods, yea, all 
 
 The sons of God Most High ; 
 
 7 But ye shall die like men, and fall, 
 
 As other princes die. 
 
 8 Rise, God; judge thou the earth in might, 
 
 This wicked earth redress ; 
 For thou art He who shall by right 
 The nations all possess. 
 
 PSALM LXXXIIL 
 
 1 BE thou not silent now at length, 
 
 God; hold not thy peace; 
 Sit thou not still, God of strength, 
 We cry, and do not cease. 
 
 2 For, lo, thy furious foes now swell, 
 
 And storm outrageously; 
 And they that hate thee, proud and fell, 
 Exalt their heads full hi oft. 
 
644 TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 3 Against thy people they contrive 
 
 Their plots and counsels deep; 
 
 Them to ensnare they chiefly strive, 
 
 Whom thou dost hide and keep. 
 
 4 Come, let us cut them off, say they. 
 
 Till they no nation be; 
 That Israel's name for ever may 
 Be lost in memory. 
 
 5 For they consult with all their might; 
 
 And all, as one in mind, 
 Themselves against thee they unite 
 And in firm union bind. 
 
 6 The tents of Edom, and the brood 
 
 Of scornful Ishmael, 
 Moab, with them of Hagar's blood. 
 
 That in the desert dwell; 
 1 Gebal and Ammon there conspire, 
 
 And hateful Amalek; 
 The Philistines, and they of Tyre, 
 
 Whose bounds the sea doth check. 
 
 8 With them great Ashur also bands, 
 
 And doth confirm the knot: 
 All these have lent their armed hands 
 To aid the sons of Lot. 
 
 9 Do to them as to Midian bold, 
 
 That wasted all the coast; 
 To Sisera; and, as is told, 
 
 Thou didst to Jabin's host, 
 When, at the brook of Kishon old, 
 
 They were repulsed and slain 9 
 
TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 645 
 
 10 At Endor quite cut off, and roll'd 
 
 As dung upon the plain. 
 
 11 As Zeb and Oreb evil sped, 
 
 So let their princes speed; 
 As Zeba and Zalmunna lied, 
 So let their princes bleed. 
 
 12 For they amidst their pride have said, 
 
 By right now shall we seize 
 God's houses, and will now invade 
 Their stately palaces. 
 
 13 My God, 0, make them as a wheel; 
 
 No quiet let them find; 
 Giddy and restless let them reel, 
 Like stubble from the wind. 
 
 14 As when an aged wood takes fire, 
 
 Which on a sudden strays; 
 The greedy flame runs higher and higher, 
 Till all the mountains blaze ; 
 
 15 So with thy whirlwind them pursue, 
 
 And with thy tempest chase; 
 
 16 And till they yield thee honour due, 
 
 Lord, fill with shame their face. 
 
 1 7 Ashamed and troubled let them be, 
 
 Troubled and shamed for ever; 
 Ever confounded, and so die 
 With shame, and 'scape it never. 
 
 18 Then shall they know, that Thou, whose name 
 
 Jehovah is alone, 
 
646 TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Art the Most High, and Thou the same 
 O'er all the earth art One. 
 
 PSALM LXXXIV. 
 
 1 How lovely are thy dwellings fair ! 
 
 Lord of Hosts how dear 
 The pleasant tabernacles are, 
 Where thou dost dwell so near! 
 
 2 My soul doth long, and almost die, 
 
 Thy courts, Lord, to see; 
 My heart and flesh aloud do cry, 
 living God, for thee. 
 
 3 There ev'n the sparrow, freed from wrong, 
 
 Hath found a house of rest; 
 The swallow there, to lay her young, 
 
 Hath built her brooding nest: 
 Ev'n by thy altars, Lord of Hosts, 
 
 They find their safe abode; 
 And home they fly from round the coasts, 
 
 Toward thee, ray King, my God. 
 
 4 Happy, who in thy house reside, 
 
 Where thee they ever praise! 
 
 5 Happy, whose strength in thee doth bide, 
 
 And in their hearts thy ways ! 
 
 6 They pass through Baca's thirsty vale, 
 
 That dry and barren ground; 
 As through a fruitful, watery dale, 
 Where springs and showers abound. 
 
 7 They journey on from strength to strength 
 
 With joy and gladsome cheer, 
 
TRANSLATIONS. 647 
 
 Till all before our God at length 
 In Zion do appear. 
 
 8 Lord God of Hosts, hear now my prayer ; 
 
 Jacob's God, give ear; 
 
 9 Thou God, our shield, look on the face 
 
 Of thy anointed dear: 
 
 10 For one day in thy courts to be, 
 
 Is better, and more blest, 
 Than in the joys of vanity 
 
 A thousand days at best. 
 I, in the temple of my God, 
 
 Had rather keep a door; 
 Than dwell in tents, and rich abode, 
 
 With sin for evermore. 
 
 11 For God the Lord, both sun and shield, 
 
 Gives grace and glory bright; 
 No good from them shall be withheld 
 Whose ways are just and right. 
 
 12 Lord God of Hosts, that reign' st on high, 
 
 That man is truly blest, 
 Who only on thee doth rely, 
 And in thee only rest. 
 
 PSALM LXXXV. 
 
 1 THY land to favour graciously 
 
 Thou hast not, Lord, been slack; 
 Thou hast from hard captivity 
 Returned Jacob back: 
 
 2 The iniquity thou didst forgive 
 
 That wrought thy people woe; 
 
648 TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 And all their sin, that did thee grieve, 
 Hast hid where none shall know. 
 
 3 Thine anger all thou hadst removed, 
 
 And calmly didst return 
 From thy fierce wrath, which we had proved 
 Far worse than fire to burn. 
 
 4 God of our saving health and peace, 
 
 Turn us, and us restore; 
 Thine indignation cause to cease 
 Toward us, and chide no more. 
 
 5 Wilt thou be angry without end 
 
 For ever angry thus? 
 Wilt thou thy frowning ire extend 
 From age to age on us? 
 
 6 Wilt thou not turn, and hear our voice, 
 
 And us again revive; 
 That so thy people may rejoice, 
 By thee preserved alive 1 
 
 7 Cause us to see thy goodness, Lord; 
 
 To us thy mercy show; 
 Thy saving health to us afford, 
 And life in us renew. 
 
 8 And now, what God the Lord will speak, 
 
 I will go straight and hear; 
 For to his people he speaks peace, 
 
 And to his saints full dear, 
 To his dear saints, he will speak peace; 
 
 But let them never more 
 Return to folly, but surcease 
 
 To trespass as before. 
 
TRANSLATIONS. G49 
 
 9 Surely, to such as do him fear, 
 
 Salvation is at hand; 
 And glory shall ere long appear 
 To dwell within our land. 
 
 10 Mercy and Truth, that long were miss'd, 
 
 Now joyfully are met; 
 Sweet Peace and righteousness have kiss'J, 
 And hand in hand are set. 
 
 1 1 Truth from the earth, like to a flower, 
 
 Shall bud and blossom then; 
 And Justice, from her heavenly bower, 
 Look down on mortal men. 
 
 12 The Lord will also then bestow 
 
 Whatever thing is good; 
 Our land shall forth in plenty throw 
 Her fruits to be our food. 
 
 13 Before him Righteousness shall go, 
 
 His royal harbinger: 
 Then will he come, and not be slow; 
 His footsteps cannot err. 
 
 PSALM LXXXVI. 
 
 1 THY gracious ear, Lord, incline; 
 
 hear me, / thee pray; 
 For I am poor, and almost pine 
 With need, and sad decay. 
 
 2 Preserve my soul; for I have trod 
 
 Thy ways, and love the just: 
 
 Save thou thy servant, my God, 
 
 Who still in thee doth trust. 
 
6-50 TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 3 Pity me, Lord, for daily thee 
 I call; 4. 0, make rejoice 
 Thy servant's soul; for, Lord, to thee 
 I lift my soul and voice: 
 
 5 For thou art good; thou. Lord, art prone 
 
 To pardon; thou to all 
 Art full of mercy, thou alone, 
 To them that on thee call. 
 
 6 Unto my supplication, Lord, 
 
 Give ear, and to the cry 
 
 Of my incessant prayers afford 
 
 Thy hearing graciously. 
 
 7 I, in the day of my distress, 
 
 Will call on thee for aid; 
 For thou wilt grant me free access. 
 And answer what I prayed. 
 
 8 Like thee among the gods is none, 
 
 Lord; nor any works, 
 Of all that other gods have done, 
 Like to thy glorious works. 
 
 9 The nations all whom thou hast made 
 
 Shall come, and all shall frame 
 To bow them low before thee, Lord, 
 And glorify thy name : 
 
 10 For great thou art, and wonders great 
 
 By thy strong hand are done : 
 Thou, in thy everlasting seat, 
 Remainest God alone. 
 
TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 651 
 
 1 1 Teach me, Lord, thy way most right; 
 
 I in thy truth will bide; 
 To fear thy name my heart unite; 
 So shall it never slide. 
 
 12 Thee will 1 praise, Lord my God, 
 
 Thee honour and adore 
 With my whole heart, and blaze abroad 
 Thy name for evermore. 
 
 13 For great thy mercy is toward me, 
 
 And thou hast freed my soul, 
 Ev'n from the lowest hell set free, 
 From deepest darkness foul. 
 
 14 God, the proud against me rise, 
 
 And violent men are met 
 To seek my life, and in their eyes 
 No fear of thee have set. 
 
 15 But thou, Lord, art the God most mild, 
 
 Readiest thy grace to show, 
 Slow to be angry, and art styled 
 
 Most merciful, most true, 
 160, turn to me thy face at length, 
 
 And me have mercy on; 
 Unto thy servant give thy strength, 
 
 And save thy handmaid's son. 
 1 7 Some sign of good to me afford, 
 
 And let my foes then see, 
 And be ashamed; because thou, Lord, 
 
 Dost help and comfort me. 
 
652 TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 PSALM LXXXVIL 
 
 1 AMONG the holy mountains high 
 
 Is his foundation fast; 
 There seated is his sanctuary; 
 His temple there is placed. 
 
 2 Sion's fair gates the Lord loves more 
 
 Than all the dwellings fair 
 Of Jacob's landy though there be store, 
 And all within his care. 
 
 3 City of God, most glorious things 
 
 Of thee abroad are spoke ; 
 
 4 I mention Egypt, where proud kings 
 
 Did our forefathers yoke. 
 I mention Babel to my friends, 
 
 Philistia/M^ of scorn ; 
 And Tyre, with Ethiop's utmost ends : 
 
 Lo, this man there was born : 
 
 5 But twice that praise shall in our ear 
 
 Be said of Sion last; 
 This and this man was born in her; 
 High God shall fix her fast. 
 
 6 The Lord shall write it in a scroll 
 
 That ne'er shall be outworn, 
 When he the nations doth inroll; 
 That this man there was born. 
 
 7 Both they who sing, and they who dance, 
 
 With sacred songs, are there; 
 In thee fresh brooks and soft streams glance, 
 And all my fountains clear. 
 
TRANSLATIONS. 653 
 
 PSALM LXXXVII. 
 
 1 LORD GOD, that dost me save and keep, 
 
 All day to thee I cry; 
 And all night long before thee weep, 
 Before thee prostrate lie. 
 
 2 Into thy presence let my prayer 
 
 With sighs devout ascend; 
 And to my cries that ceaseless are, 
 Thine ear with favour bend. 
 
 3 For, cloy'd with woes and trouble store, 
 
 Surcharged my soul doth lie; 
 My life, at Death's uncheerful door, 
 Unto the grave draws nigh. 
 
 4 Keckon'd I am with them that pass 
 
 Down to the dismal pit : 
 
 I am a man ; but weak, alas ! 
 
 And for that name unfit. 
 
 5 From life discharged, and parted quite 
 
 Among the dead to sleep; 
 And like the slain in Woody fight, 
 
 That in the grave lie deep. 
 Whom thou rememberest no more, 
 
 Dost never more regard ; 
 Them, from thy hand deliver'd o'er, 
 
 Death's hideous house hath barred. 
 
 6 Thou in the lowest pit profound 
 
 Hast set me all forlorn, 
 Where thickest darkness hovers round, 
 In horrid deeps to mourn. 
 
654 TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 7 Thy wrath, from which no shelter saves, 
 
 Full sore doth press on me; 
 Thou break'st upon me all thy waves, 
 And all thy waves break me. 
 
 8 Thou dost my friends from me estrange, 
 
 And makest me odious, 
 Me to them odious, for they change, 
 And I here pent up thus. 
 
 9 Through sorrow and affliction great, 
 
 Mine eyes grow dim and dead ; 
 Lord, all the day I thee entreat, 
 My hands to thee I spread. 
 
 10 Wilt thou do wonders on the dead? 
 
 Shall the deceased arise, 
 And praise thee from their loathsome bed 
 With pale and hollow eyes ? 
 
 11 Shall they thy loving kindness tell, 
 
 On whom the grave hath hold? 
 Or they, who in perdition dwell, 
 Thy faithfulness unfold? 
 
 12 In darkness can thy mighty hand 
 
 Or wondrous acts be known 1 ? 
 Thy justice in the gloomy land 
 Of dark oblivion ? 
 
 13 But I to thee, Lord, do cry, 
 
 Ere yet my life be spent; 
 And up to thee my prayer doth hie, 
 Each morn, and thee prevent. 
 
 14 Why wilt thou, Lord, my soul forsake, 
 
 And hide thy face from me, 
 
TRANSLATIONS. 655 
 
 15 That am already bruised, and shake 
 
 With terror sent from thee 1 ? 
 Bruised, and afflicted, and so low 
 
 As ready to expire; 
 While I thy terrors undergo, 
 
 Astonished with thine ire. 
 
 16 Thy fierce wrath over me doth flow, 
 
 Thy threatenings cut me through ; 
 
 17 All day they round about me go ; 
 
 Like waves they me pursue. 
 
 18 Lover and friend thou hast remov'd, 
 
 And sever'd from me far : 
 They/y me now whom I have loved, 
 And as in darkness are. 
 
 A PARAPHRASE ON PSALM CXIV. 
 
 This and the following Psalm were done by the author at 
 fifteen years old. 
 
 WHEN the blest seed of Terah's faithful son, 
 After long toil, their liberty had won ; 
 And pass'd from Pharian fields to Canaan land, 
 Led by the strength of the Almighty's hand; 
 Jehovah's wonders were in Israel shown, 
 His praise and glory were in Israel known. 
 That saw the troubled sea, and shivering fled, 
 And sought to hide his froth-becurled head 
 Low in the earth; Jordan's clear streams recoil, 
 As a faint host that hath received the foil. 
 The high huge bellied mountains skip, like rams 
 Amongst their ewes; the little hills, like lambs. 
 
656 TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Why fled the ocean? And why skipt the moun- 
 tains 1 
 
 Why turned Jordan toward his crystal fountains? 
 Shake, Earth ; and at the presence be aghast 
 Of Him that ever was, and aye shall last; 
 That glassy floods from rugged rocks can crush, 
 And make soft rills from fiery flint-stones gush ! 
 
 PSALM CXXXVI. 
 
 LET us, with a gladsome mind, 
 Praise the Lord, for he is kind; 
 
 For his mercies aye endure, 
 
 Ever faithful, ever sure. 
 
 Let us blaze his name abroad, 
 For of gods he is the God : 
 For his, &c. 
 
 0, let us his praises tell, 
 Who doth the wrathful tyrants quell : 
 For his, &c. 
 
 Who, with his miracles, doth make 
 Amazed heaven and earth to shake : 
 For his, &c. 
 
 Who, by his wisdom, did create 
 The painted heavens so full of state: 
 For his, &c. 
 
 Who did the solid earth ordain 
 To rise above the watery plain : 
 For his, &c. 
 
TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 657 
 
 Who, by his all-commanding might, 
 Did fill the new-made world with light : 
 For his, &c. 
 
 And caused the golden-tressed sun 
 All the day long his course to run : 
 For his, &c. 
 
 The horned moon to shine by night, 
 Amongst her spangled sisters bright : 
 For his, &c. 
 
 He, with his thunder- clasping hand, 
 Smote the first-born of Egypt land : 
 For his, &c. 
 
 And, in despite of Pharaoh fell, 
 He brought from thence his Israel : 
 For his, &c. 
 
 The ruddy waves he cleft in twain 
 Of the Erythraean main : 
 For his, &c. 
 
 The floods stood still, like walls of glass, 
 While the Hebrew bands did pass: 
 For his, &c. 
 
 But full soon they did devour 
 The tawny king with all his power : 
 For his, &c. 
 
 His chosen people he did bless 
 In the wasteful wilderness: 
 For his, &c. 
 
 2T 
 
658 TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 In bloody battle he brought down * 
 Kings of prowess and renown : 
 
 For his, &c. 
 
 He foil'd bold Seon and his host, 
 That ruled the Amorrean coast : 
 
 For his, &c. 
 
 And large-limb'd Og he did subdue, 
 With all his over-hardy crew: 
 
 For his, &c. 
 
 And, to his servant Israel, 
 He gave their land therein to dwell : 
 
 For his, &c. 
 
 He hath, with a piteous eye, 
 Beheld us in our misery: 
 
 For his, &c. 
 
 And freed us from the slavery 
 Of the invading enemy: 
 
 For his, &c. 
 
 All living creatures he doth feed, 
 And with full hand supplies their need : 
 
 For his, &c. 
 
 Let us therefore warble forth 
 His mighty majesty and worth: 
 
 For his, &c. 
 
 That his mansion hath on high 
 Above the reach of mortal eye : 
 
 For his mercies aye endure, 
 
 Ever faithful, ever sure. 
 
 THE END. 
 
t*r+ti foi*4 
 
 


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