UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 AT LOS ANGELES 

 
 MILTON'S 
 
 POETICAL WORKS. 
 
 5
 
 UAI.LANTVNE, PRINTER, EDINBURGH.
 
 MILTON'S 
 
 POETICAL WORKS. 
 
 miti) ILtTe, Critical Dissertation, anti 
 explanatory iiMes, 
 
 BY THE 
 
 REV. GEORGE GILFILLAN. 
 
 VOL. 1. 
 
 4 G 4 3 ^ 
 
 EDINBURGH: 
 
 JAMES NICHOL, 9 NORTH BANK STREET. 
 
 LONDON : JAMES NISBET AND CO. 
 
 DUBLIN : W. ROBERTSON. 
 
 M.DCCC.U1I.

 
 N \ 
 
 THE LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 
 
 All biographies are, more or less, skeletons. Even Boswell's 
 Life of Johnson, which is the fullest in the world, is but an 
 outline of its gigantic subject. This is much more true of the 
 lives of those distinguished men who lived before biography 
 had become a necessary article of public entertainment — before 
 conversation was a marketable commodity — who were either 
 lost in the general melee of the warfare and action of their 
 times, or who cultivated a majestic solitude, living " collaterally 
 or aside " to the world and their own age. It is remarkable, 
 that the four greatest of all poets, Homer, Dante, Shakspere, 
 and Milton, are those precisely of whom least has been told us, 
 and the incidents of whose private history are in a peculiar 
 degree at once scanty and uncertain. Homer is little more 
 than a Voice, lonely, melancholy, and powerful, rhapsodizing 
 on the Chian strand. Dante stands forth more clearly from the 
 clouds of the past, but he, too, is surrounded by darkness, and 
 his personality is that of a shade. Shakspere has been described 
 as a munificent and modest benefactor, who knocked at the door 
 of the human family by night — threw in inestimable wealth- 
 fled — and the sound of his footsteps was all the tidings he 
 gave of himself. Of Milton what we know is only sufficient 
 to make us regret that we know no more — a regret increased 
 by the reflection, that his life was as lofty as his genius, and 
 that his conversation seems to have been as rich as his poetry.
 
 VI LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 
 
 It shall be our endeavour in the pages that follow to condense 
 in brief compass the leading facts known of the great author 
 of Paradise Lost, interposing a few occasional comments, and 
 reserving for the next volume our fuller views on his poetry 
 and genius. 
 
 .John Milton was the son of John ami-Sarah Milton, and 
 was born in London on the 9th of December 1G08. His father 
 was a scrivener to trade, and lived at the sign of the Spread 
 Eagle in Bread Street — a street lying — in what is called tech- 
 nically the City — under the shadow of St Paul's. lie had 
 in his youth attended Christ Church, Oxford, where he was 
 converted to the Protestant faith, and abjured publicly the 
 errors of Popery, for which his father, a bigoted Papist, dis- 
 inherited him. The student was thus compelled to enter on 
 the profession mentioned above, and prospered in it to such a 
 degree, as to be able to give his children a liberal education, 
 and to secure a comfortable competence for his closing years, 
 which were spent in the country. There can be little doubt 
 that the hatred of Popery and arbitrary power which dis- 
 tinguished the illustrious son was instilled into him from 
 childhood, and intensified by the recollection of his father's 
 wrongs. II is mother's name was Caston. She was of Welsh 
 descent, and had perhaps some sparks of the wild poetical enthu- 
 siasm of the ancient Britons in her blood. Her son speaks of 
 her worth and liberality to the poor, and praises his father for 
 his love of letters and his sterling integrity of character. He 
 possessed another artistic taste, which he transmitted to the 
 poet. He was passionately fond of music, and as a composer 
 ranked with the best of that a^e. 
 
 O 
 
 To the unspeakable privilege of two admirable parents was 
 added that of a most careful and copious education. Milton 
 was one of the few who have enjoyed the benefits both of 
 private and public tuition. His first tutor was one Thomas 
 Young, a genuine Koundhead from Essex, who, according 
 to Aubrey, " cutt his hair short," who enjoyed afterwards 
 the honour of banishment to Holland for his religion, but 
 returned, and, during Cromwell's reign, was master of Jesus 
 College, ( Jambridge. Young, though a Puritan, loved poetry,
 
 LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. Vll 
 
 and, according to Milton, taught his pupil to love it. He died 
 in the year 1674. When approaching the age of fifteen, his 
 tutor having gone abroad, Milton was removed to St Paul's 
 school. There, under the care of Alexander Gill the master, 
 and his son the usher of the school, he appears to have profited 
 much in learning. Even then he was a hard student, seldom 
 quitting his books till midnight, and frequent headaches gave, 
 in vain, warning of the disease which was ultimately to quench 
 his eyes in darkness. His favourite reading was in books of 
 poetry, among which are particularly mentioned, Sylvester's 
 Du Bartas (a vast curious medley of sense and nonsense, 
 childish platitudes and genuine poetry, quaint pedantry and 
 profound learning) and Spenser. It was Spenser, too, we re- 
 member with interest, who first awakened the muse of Cowley. 
 The season of an author's life in which love for books 
 prompts to imitation of their beauties, and the yearning admi- 
 ration and despair with which the student leans over the 
 burning page of genius are exchanged for lively, hopeful, and 
 determined emulation of its wonders, is always profoundly 
 interesting and instructive, whether it occur late in life, as in 
 the case of Dryden, or early, as in that of Pope and Milton. 
 If the latter could hardly be said to " lisp the numbers," he 
 was certainly a boy-poet. In 1623, while still fifteen, he 
 paraphrased the 114th and 136th Psalms, productions which, 
 amid much that is imperfect and juvenile, discover the ascend- 
 ancy the Hebrew genius had already acquired over his mind, 
 and something of that unequalled command of poetical language 
 — that knowledge of the magic of words — which distinguished 
 him in after days. Take the following specimen : — 
 
 " He with his thunder-clasping hand 
 Smote the first-born of Egypt land ; 
 And in despite of Pharaoh fell 
 He brought from thence his Israel. 
 The ruddy waves he cleft in twain 
 Of the Erythraean main : 
 The flood stood still, like walls of glass, 
 While the Hebrew bands did pass : 
 But full soon they did devour 
 The tawny king with all his power."
 
 viil LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 
 
 Two years later, lie wrote his quaint but ingenious poem on 
 the " Death of a Fair Infant, Dying of a Cough," said to be 
 his niece, daughter of his sister Phillipps. Previous to this, 
 in February 1624, he was sent from St Paul's school to 
 Christ's College, Cambridge. There he seems at first to have 
 been treated with considerable severity, but soon attracted 
 attention by his diligence, his scholarship, and the exquisite 
 Latin and English exercises he produced. At college, too, he 
 wrote his " Sonnet on Shakspere," and his magnificent " Hymn 
 on the Morning of Christ's Nativity," which alone might have 
 preserved his name, and which seems, more than any of his 
 earlier poems, a miniature of Paradise Lost, in all its leading 
 qualities of religious feeling, solemn grandeur of conception, 
 slow and majestic movement of verse, massive strength of 
 diction, language that " may be felt," and the inimitable ma- 
 nagement of mythological and classic images. 
 
 From Christ's College he was, as all acquainted with his 
 history know, rusticated. There is less evidence for the com- 
 mon story that he was whipped by his tutor for contumacy, 
 although it is affirmed by Aubrey. Certain it is that, like 
 many men of genius, he seems to have derived little benefit 
 from his University, and to have cherished little affection for 
 it. He took, however, the ordinary degree of M.A. ; and 
 then, in 1G32, we see him, with a proud full heart, and having 
 shaken the dust off his feet, leaving Cambridge for the country, 
 to return to its inglorious shades no more. 
 
 His lather had meanwhile retired from business, and settled 
 in Horton, near Colncbrooke, Buckinghamshire. To his scat 
 the rusticated poet repaired, and remained there from 1G32 to 
 1638, ")• from his twenty-fourth to his thirtieth year. This 
 seems to us one of the most interesting portions of his life. lie 
 had ample leisure for study, and used it in laying up those 
 vrasl stnns of recondite learning which were commensurate 
 with his genius, and on which that genius was afterwards to 
 teed, free and unbounded, as a fire feeds upon a mighty forest. 
 The country around is rich and beautiful, in the English sense 
 of that word ; and Milton in his solitary walks gathered ma- 
 terials tor his descriptions of nature, and we find the groves
 
 LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. IX 
 
 and fields of Buckinghamshire reproduced not only in the 
 scenery of " L' Allegro" and " Lycidas," but in his pictures of 
 the arbours of Eden and the valleys of Heaven. His family 
 circle was not numerous, but it was select, consisting of his 
 father and mother, a married sister older than himself, and a 
 younger brother engaged in the study of the law. By living 
 in the country he was enabled with greater ease to preserve 
 entire his personal purity and his temperate and devotional 
 habits. His amusements consisted principally of botanising 
 excursions through the neighbouring country, of musical enter- 
 tainments, and of occasional visits to London for books, lessons 
 in mathematics, and the like. Here, doubtless, passages of 
 early love occurred, which tended still more to fan his poetic 
 fire, although no trace of their particulars can now be discovered. 
 He seems to have occasionally visited the accomplished Coun- 
 tess Dowager of Derby, residing in Harefield Place, hard by 
 Horton, whose grandchildren performed the " Arcades." 
 According to some accounts, he at this time, in the course of 
 visits to the beautiful village of Foresthill, near Oxford, met 
 with Mary Powell, daughter of Squire Powell, and destined 
 to become his wife. Here, certainly, he wrote those beautiful 
 minor poems, " L' Allegro," " Penseroso," " Arcades," " Ly- 
 cidas," and " Comus," which themselves constitute a claim to 
 a reputation at least as great as Tasso's or Wordsworth's, even 
 although " Paradise Lost" and " Paradise Regained" had never 
 appeared. "Comus" was written for his father's landlord, 
 the Earl of Bridge water, and enacted in 1634 at his lordship's 
 residence of Castle Ludlow. 
 
 In 1637 his mother died, and Milton prevailed on his 
 father to permit him to visit the Continent. Probably he 
 found his sphere at Horton but too comfortable and contracted 
 for his expanding genius, and it might be that one of those 
 sudden longings for travel which often cross the souls of 
 the solitary had come irresistibly over his. Like Keats, he 
 felt that " happy was England, sweet her artless daughters," 
 but felt, too, a strong desire to see " beauties of deeper glance," 
 and to 
 
 " Sit upon an Alp as on a throne."
 
 X LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 
 
 He wished, besides, to visit Italy for the sake of its music, and 
 designed to form a collection of it whilst there. Having obtained 
 directions as to his travels from Sir Henry Wotton, to whom 
 he had communicated his purpose, he set out in 1638, attended 
 
 q>y a single servant. We remember few finer subjects for con- 
 emplation or picture than that of Milton in the prime of his 
 life — w ith youth and manhood mingling on his brow — with 
 his lono; auburn hair — with his beautiful Grecian face — with a 
 mild majestic enthusiasm glowing in his eyes — with cheek ten- 
 derly flushed by exercise and country air — with a form erect 
 and buoyant with hope — with a body and soul pure and un- 
 contaminated — and bearing, like one of the ancient gods, a 
 musical instrument in his hand, leaving the Horton solitude 
 upon his travels to the lands of romance and poetry. How 
 different from the spectacle presented nearly two centuries 
 afterwards, of Byron, soured, satiated, old in passion and 
 miseiy, although younger than Milton in years, setting out on 
 his journey in search of oblivion ! The one seemed a mon- 
 strous mixture of Apollo the beautiful, and Vulcan the vicious 
 and lame ; the other the very god of poesy himself, as when 
 he kept the flocks of Admetus, or tuned his lute — 
 
 " Sole sitting on the shores of old Romance." \ 
 
 He went first to Paris, where he remained a few days, and 
 was, through Lord Scudamore, introduced to Grotius, then the 
 Swedish ambassador to France, and in his fifty-sixth year. 
 The interview between the young poet and the mature scholar 
 must have been interesting. Milton could appreciate the 
 learning of Grotius, and probably liked him none the less for 
 his Arminianism. Grotius, as his metrical translations from 
 the Greek prove, was far from destitute of poetical feeling, 
 and must have loved the ingenuous and high-minded English- 
 man. Indeed, Milton's nephew tells us that he took the visit 
 kindly, and gave him entertainment suitable to his worth, and 
 to the high commendations he had heard of him. From Paris 
 he went to Nice, and thence to Genoa, and thence to Florence, 
 where he stayed for two months. He was received with the 
 highest honours by the literati of that city, and became a
 
 LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. XI 
 
 welcome guest at their " academies," as the reunions of the 
 learned were then termed. We can conceive the rapture with 
 which he felt himself in the city of Dante, perused the mas- 
 terpieces of Italian art, gazed on the beautiful environs of the 
 city, and, above all, mingled for the first time, to any full 
 measure, in the society of men of kindred tastes and feelings. 
 Of these, Dati wrote a Latin eulogy on him, and Francini an 
 Italian ode in his praise, and Malatesti dedicated to him one 
 of his works. At this time, too, occurred his celebrated inter- 
 view with Galileo, then in the dungeons of the Inquisition ; 
 surely another theme for the noblest pencil — the meeting of 
 Italy's old savan and England's young genius, — the gray- 
 haired sage, each wrinkle on his forehead the furrow of a star, 
 and the " Lady of his College," with his long curling locks, 
 and a dream of Eden sleeping on his smooth brow ; while the 
 dim twilight of the cell, spotted by the fierce eyes of the offi- 
 cials, seemed the age too late or too early on which both had 
 fallen — a meeting like that of Morning with her one star, and 
 day in the distance, and of Midnight, with all her melancholy 
 maturity and host of diminished suns. 
 
 From Florence he went by way of Sienna to Rome, where 
 other and yet rarer thrills of delight awaited him. Although 
 few if any allusions to the works of Italian statuary, painting, 
 or architecture occur in his writings ; and although some of 
 his commentators have in vain sought to find traces of resem- 
 blance between some great Italian pictures and certain scenes 
 in his " Paradise Lost," there can be no doubt that a mind so 
 susceptible as his, drank in influence and inspiration from the 
 sculptures, the paintings, and buildings of the Eternal City, 
 from the dome of St Peter's seen by morning light, and from 
 the ruins of Mount Palatine dim-discovered in the midnight 
 moon. Michael Angelo, like Dante, was of a genius kindred 
 to Milton's own — stern, lofty, ever covered by the shadow of 
 the Infinite ; and it were treason against both to suppose that 
 the one was not enchanted by the productions of the other. 
 At Rome, as at Florence, he was treated with the utmost con- 
 sideration, particularly by Holstenius, the keeper of the Vati- 
 can library ; by Cardinal Barberini, the patron cardinal of the
 
 Xll LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 
 
 English ; and by Salvaggi and Salsilli, who praised his powers 
 and learning in verses which were afterwards prefixed to his 
 Latin poems. 
 
 From Rome, after two months' stay, he proceeded to Naples 
 in the company of a religious recluse, who introduced him to 
 John Baptista Manso, the Marquis of Villa. This eminent 
 person had been the patron of Tasso, and received with open 
 arms a far greater than he. Such were his attentions to 
 Milton that, in gratitude, on his departure from Naples, he 
 presented him with his elegant eclogue entitled " Mansus," a 
 poem well calculated, by even Dr Johnson's confession, to 
 raise in the noble Italian a very high opinion of English taste 
 and literature. Manso, in his turn, addressed a complimentary 
 distich to Milton. From Naples he intended to have pro- 
 ceeded to Sicily and Greece. How he must have regretted, 
 and how much we also may, that he had not fulfilled his in- 
 tention — not seen with that anointed and anointing eye of his — 
 
 " Etna's fires grow dim before the rising day " — 
 
 the vale of Tempo, the pastures of Pcneus, the heights of 
 Parnassus, the unmclted snows of Olympus, the gray plain 
 of Marathon, and the marvellous combination of natural and 
 artistic beauties which gathers round the city of Athens ; nay, 
 that ltc had not extended his torn- eastwards to those awful 
 lands which must far oftener have visited" his dreams, where 
 Siloa's brook still flows, where Olivet still looks down on 
 the Holy City, and the scathed summits of Sinai tower into 
 the torrid air as boldly as on that morning when the Ancient 
 of Days descended on them ! But he had heard of the great 
 controversy which was raging in his native country, and this 
 drew him back from what had been the cherished purpose of 
 his soul. " I thought it base," he says, " to be travelling for 
 amusement abroad while my fellow-citizens were fighting for 
 liberty at home." And with probably a few natural sighs and 
 wistful looks cast to the cast, he turned his steps and went 
 back to Borne. His language, while in that city before, on 
 the subject of religion, had been fearless and outspoken. This 
 had made him enemies, and had restrained the kindness of
 
 LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. Xlll 
 
 friends. He was now warned that the Jesuits were framing 
 plots against him, and that if he would escape their malice he 
 must " keep his thoughts close and his countenance open." 
 Such warnings and advices he did not regard, but continued 
 two more months in Home, and altered in no whit either his 
 conduct or his language. From Rome he proceeded again to 
 Florence, and then visited Lucca. He next crossed the Apen- 
 nines, and went by Bologna and Ferrara to Venice, in which 
 city he spent a month; thence he took his course through 
 Verona, Milan, and along the lake Leman, to Geneva. In this 
 part of his journey he, of course, saw the Alps ; and the eye 
 of Milton, looking at the dome of Mont Blanc, must itself 
 have been a sight. After spending some time in Geneva, 
 where he became intimate with Deodati and Spanheim, he 
 returned through France, and arrived at home after fifteen 
 months' absence. During that time, the scenery and manners 
 with which he came in contact were silently and unalterably 
 daguerreotyping themselves upon his mind; but it is even 
 more important to observe that, according to his own express 
 and solemn statement, he came back as he had gone out, a 
 virgin, free of all taint from the licentious lands he had tra- 
 versed. Art alone could not thus have preserved her votary, 
 however ardent and sincere — Religion only could. 
 
 Returned to London, he hired a lodging in St Bride's 
 Churchyard, Fleet Street, and undertook the education of his 
 sister's sons, John and Edward Phillipps, the first ten, the 
 other nine years of age; and in a year's time made them 
 capable of interpreting a Latin author at sight ! From Fleet 
 Street, finding his house not large enough, he passed to 
 Aldersgate Street, where he took a commodious and hand- 
 some house, situated at the end of an entry, and in a garden, 
 and received a few more pupils besides his nephews. It has 
 been objected to him that, instead of taking public part in the 
 grand struggle of the age, he should have sunk down into a 
 schoolmaster. Milton was himself the best judge. He felt 
 that he could serve the popular cause better by his pen than 
 by his sword. He sate calmly down, therefore, to write 
 down every species of arbitrary power, and supported himself 
 
 b
 
 XIV LIFE OP JOHN MILTON. 
 
 honourably the while by teaching a school. In this we see no 
 disgrace and no cowardice ; but, on the contrary, recognise in 
 it the conduct of a man as brave and honest as he was wise. 
 
 The mode of education he established was strict and pecu- 
 liar. Occasionally, however, he relaxed in the hard study 
 and spare diet which he had allotted to his pupils and him- 
 self ; and spent with them a general day of harmless enjoy- 
 ment in the country. In 1641, he published his Treatise on 
 Reformation, in two books, strongly and eloquently defending 
 the Puritanic side. He was moved to this the more, that he 
 knew that the Puritans were inferior in learning to their oppo- 
 nents. His opinions on the controverted questions had been 
 made up long before. The accession of such a man to the 
 party of the movement, was of the utmost importance. Its 
 other writers had courage, determination, and talent; but 
 M ilton and Howe alone had genius ; and Milton had, what 
 Howe wanted, the ear of Em-ope and an imperial command 
 over the purest Latinity, to which only that ear was then 
 willing to hearken. This treatise, indeed, was in English, but 
 contained some of the most magnificent passages of prose in the 
 language — passages, according to Coleridge, as distinctly pro- 
 phetic of the " Paradise Lost," as the red clouds of dawn are of 
 the rising of the sun. In the same year, he issued, in reply to 
 Bishop Usher's Confutation of Smectymnuus, a treatise of Pre- 
 latical Episcopacy. Usher, that u great luminary of the Irish 
 Church," as I)r Johnson calls him, had at last met his match, 
 not perhaps to the full in learning, but certainly in fervid sin- 
 cerity, acute intellect, and powerful eloquence. One is re- 
 minded of Milton's own — 
 
 "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." 
 
 We cannot add, however, in this case, although Johnson does 
 in another, that " Hell grew darker at their frown." Milton 
 treats Usher, on the whole, respectfully, and compliments him 
 on his learning, in his next publication. That was the Reason
 
 LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. XV 
 
 of Church Government urged against Prelacy , and it was fol- 
 lowed by Animadversions on Bishop HalVs Defence of the 
 Humble Remonstrance. In the former occurs the celebrated 
 passage in which he announces his intention of writing a He- 
 roic Poem, " not to be raised from the heat of youth or the 
 vapours of wine, like that which flows at waste from the pen of 
 some vulgar amorist, or the trencher fury of a riming para- 
 site, nor to be obtained by the invocation of Dame Memory and 
 her siren daughters ; but by devout prayer to that Eternal 
 Spirit who can enrich with all utterance and knowledge, and 
 sends out his seraphim with the hallowed fire of his altar, to 
 touch and purify the lips of whom he pleases." He finally 
 closed this controversy with an Apology for Smectymnuus, 
 confessing ingenuously, however, that he was " led by the 
 genial power of nature to another task ;" and that in this he 
 had but the " use, as it were, of his left hand." He panted for 
 beholding the " bright countenance of truth in the quiet and 
 still air of delightful studies," and had yet long enough to pant. 
 Hitherto, Milton had remained alone — and his life, on the 
 whole, had been a monologue. He was now to enter upon 
 the married state. About Whitsuntide 1643, when he had 
 reached his thirty-fifth year, he, to use the words of his 
 nephew, Phillipps, " took a journey into the country, nobody 
 about him certainly knowing the reason, or that it was more 
 than a journey of recreation, till after a month's stay, home 
 he returns a married man, that went out a bachelor." His 
 bride was Mary, the eldest daughter of Mr Powell, formerly 
 mentioned as a squire residing at Forest Hill. Hastily got 
 up, this match turned out miserably ill; contradicting for 
 once the common notion that marriages made in middle life 
 are the happiest. His wife seems to have been a gay, com- 
 monplace girl, fond of dancing and other trifling amuse- 
 ments — in short, the last person fitted to be the companion of 
 an austere and lofty-souled scholar like Milton. At the end 
 of a month, wearied with the monotony of his life, terrified at 
 the statuesque precision of his habits and character, and sigh- 
 ing after the parties and pleasures of the gay corner from 
 which ske came, under pretext of a visit to her friends, she
 
 X vi LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 
 
 left him, and when asked to return at the time appointed, 
 positively refused. He sent letter after letter to induce her to 
 alter her resolution, — they were returned unopened ; he even 
 despatched a messenger, — he was dismissed from her father's 
 house with contempt. His grief and surprise were soon 
 changed into fury ; he determined to repudiate her, and pro- 
 ceeded to justify the step by writing four treatises, The 
 Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce ; The Judgment of Martin 
 Bucer concerning Divorce; Tetrachordon ; and Colasterion. 
 Without defending the loose and dangerous doctrines advo- 
 cated in these treatises, we must say that Milton's conduct 
 admits of more excuse than that of other celebrated men 
 who have been in a similar domestic predicament. Cole- 
 ridge's irregularities would have tried the patience of any 
 woman that ever lived. Shelley married too young, and it 
 was not much wonder that such u calf-love" did not con- 
 tinue. Byron seems to have behaved badly, if not brutally, 
 to his lady, and was, we fear, unfaithful ere the one year of 
 their connexion had elapsed. But Milton's wife had nothing 
 to complain of except his austere manners and life, and of 
 these she might have been aware before the marriage. " Hear- 
 ing his nephews cry sometimes under his severe discipline" 
 is the only fact alleged in her excuse. The truth simply is, 
 they were uncongenial, and had, in the mysterious providence 
 of God, met for mutual misery. But it had been braver and 
 nobler, and in the long run better far for both, had they 
 submitted in silence, instead of kicking against what was their 
 fixed and forefated lot. His principal defence is, that she 
 was the aggressor. 
 
 These treatises, new in doctrine, uncompromising in spirit, 
 and bold in language, could not fail of attracting attention, 
 and of exciting controversy. Many sneered at them ; some 
 replied in print ; others attacked them from the pulpit ; and 
 a few rallied around them, who gained the name of Divorcists 
 or Miltonists. It was unfortunate for their effect that they 
 so manifestly sprung from the bitterness of personal dis- 
 appointment. The fox had lost his tail, and must persuade 
 all future foxes to claim the liberty of cutting off theirs when-
 
 LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. XV11 
 
 ever they chose ! The Presbyterians were especially inimical 
 to his views. They had him summoned before the House of 
 Lords, by whom, however, he was speedily dismissed ; and 
 one of their leading clergy, Herbert Palmer, abused his book 
 in the bitterest terms. These facts seem to have determined 
 the balance of Milton's mind against Presbyterianism and in 
 favour of the Independent party. Meanwhile, he was carry- 
 ing out the principles of his work, by paying his addresses 
 to the daughter of Dr Davis, described as a lady of great 
 beauty and intelligence. He had apparently not heard the 
 Scottish proverb, "It is best to be off with the old love, 
 before you are on with the new." A short time afterwards, 
 he was startlingly reminded of its truth. 
 
 Although agonised and almost " driven to atheism" by 
 this distressing event, his mind continued as active and 
 powerful as ever. In 1644, he published his Tractate on 
 Education, developing a plan of training rather Utopian, 
 and which seems scarcely worth being realised. Any student 
 subjected to it would have turned out a curious mixture; 
 one-third farmer, one-third pedant, and one-third poet. In 
 the same year, Milton wrote a far nobler production ; indeed, 
 his grandest in prose, The Areopagitica ; a Speech for the 
 Liberty of Unlicensed Printing. The most elaborate speeches 
 or treatises of the ancients, the Philippics of Demosthenes 
 and the orations of Cicero, seem but the discourses of Lilliput 
 compared to this. It had suited an audience of "giant 
 angels " better than even that stately senate to which it was 
 addressed. J/ti^ almost entirely free from the quaintness, 
 stiffness, and involution which mark his ordinary prose-style, 
 and rises more easily into its altitudes. It is as " thunder 
 mingled with clear echoes ; " and amid all its merits, its 
 strong argument, its sounding-march, the " deep organ-tone " 
 of its diction, there is nothing more remarkable about it 
 than its sustained, cheerful, and majestic calmness. One 
 wonders how it could be written by one so strangely widowed 
 as its author had been, and is tempted to suspect that the 
 bright eyes of Miss Davis had in part inspired it. Like 
 almost all first-rate speeches, such as Burke's, and Fox's, and
 
 XV111 LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 
 
 Chatham's best, it failed in gaining its object, and would have 
 failed even had Milton been permitted to read it in person to 
 the Parliament. The Presbyterians when they got the press 
 into their hands were as unfriendly to its unrestricted freedom 
 as the Prelatists had been. 
 
 His father had now come to reside with him, and the 
 number of his pupils increasing, he took a larger house. 
 Before removing to it, he was astonished, upon one of his 
 usual visits to a relation in St Martin's le Grand, to see his 
 wife coming in from another room and beseeching forgiveness. 
 A scene followed, at which some will be disposed to laugh, 
 and others to cry. She fell on her knees, she bathed him 
 with her tears, and he, overpowered by her solicitations, took 
 her once more to his bosom. It was magnanimous conduct, 
 although undoubtedly the scheme was pre-concerted on the 
 part of her friends, who felt the declining state of the royal 
 cause, who foresaw that Milton's star was soon to culminate, 
 and had heard that he was paying his addresses to another 
 lady. This sets, we think, their conduct in a very mean 
 light, and reminds us of that of the Armour family, who per- 
 secuted poor Burns when " hungry ruin had him in the 
 wind," but fawned on him, and made him welcome to visit 
 Jean, after his triumphant return from Edinburgh. What 
 became of Miss Davis we are not informed. The Poet 
 removed soon after to Barbican, where he received, besides 
 his wife, his pupils and his own father, his wife's father and 
 mother, after they were impoverished by the success of the 
 Roundheads. Todd has discovered some curious documents, 
 ■which shew that Powell had been in debt to Milton's father, 
 and that after his death, Milton, to reimburse himself, took 
 possession of his mortgaged property, and so Powell's widow 
 and eight children were left destitute. This is not a story 
 much to Milton's credit, and constitutes, in fact, the one small 
 thing recorded against him. But we are not acquainted with 
 all the circumstances. In 1646-7, Powell died a broken- 
 hearted bankrupt ; and soon after, Milton's own father expired. 
 Before this, he had published, for the first time in a collected 
 form, his juvenile poems in Latin and English.
 
 LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. XIX 
 
 In 1647, his family circle having been lessened by the death 
 of his father and father-in-law, and by the departure of widow 
 Powell and her family, he took a smaller dwelling in Holborn, 
 opening backward into Lincoln's Inn Fields, and continued to 
 instruct a few scholars. From this date till the death of 
 Charles I. his pen seems to have remained idle, with the ex- 
 ception of turning into English verse a few of the Psalms, 
 sooth to say, with no great success. If Milton failed, can we 
 wonder that no one else has fully succeeded in translating 
 these divine lyrics ? 
 
 On the 30th of January 1648-9, Divine Right, in the person 
 of Charles I., was publicly put to death before Whitehall, and 
 the blow " resounded through the universe ! " Thousands 
 awoke at the sound — many to scream out contradiction and 
 rage — many to shed bitter tears, and many to express a faint 
 and faltering approbation. Milton belonged to none of these 
 classes, but dared to echo the falling axe, and to cry aloud, " It 
 is the judgment of God." He published a treatise entitled 
 the Tenure of Kings and Magistrates, in which he elabo- 
 rately shews " that it is lawful, and hath been held so through 
 all ages, for any who have the power to call to account a tyrant 
 or wicked king." This strong and seasonable argument, from 
 the most powerful pen then extant, led to important advan- 
 tages. Grateful for his aid, the government appointed him 
 their Latin secretary, with a salary of £288 a-year. " As 
 Latin secretary," says an able writer, " his duties were multi- 
 farious and somewhat onerous. As it had been resolved that 
 all the government correspondence with foreign princes and 
 states should be in Latin, he had daily to attend at Whitehall 
 to lend his services as a compiler and translator. A collection 
 of the letters written by him in this capacity, both for the 
 Council of State and for Cromwell, is published among his 
 prose works. But, besides these strictly official duties, others 
 naturally devolved upon him in consequence of his general 
 literary abilities." To this class belong his Critical Observa- 
 tions on the Articles of Peace between the Earl of Ormond and 
 the Irish Rebels — his Eiconoclastes, written in reply to the 
 famous Eicon Basilike, the supposed production of Charles I.,
 
 XX LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 
 
 and his Defensio pro Populo Anglicano, an answer to the Latin 
 Defence of Charles L, produced by Salmasius, a Frenchman, 
 and reputed one of the best scholars in Europe. 
 
 Of these, the first two were published in 1649, and the last 
 in 1651. All made more or less a profound sensation, and 
 were in different measures distinguished by the same qualities 
 — profuse learning — scholastic subtlety — eloquence of a rich 
 and massive but involved and intricate texture — decision of 
 tone, amounting to dogmatism and defiance — a fierce con- 
 temptuous bitterness to his opponents — passages of almost 
 superhuman dignity and splendour, alternating with bad jokes, 
 word-playings, and the vilest of all possible puns. On the 
 whole, when he became a controversialist, if not weak as other 
 men, his stature, like that of his own angels ere entering the 
 halls of Pandemonium, was dwarfed and dwindled. Two 
 passages from his Defensio are worthy of all admiration — 
 those, namely, describing Cromwell and Bradshaw, pictures 
 which reduce to mere daubs all the sketches of character pro- 
 duced before or since from Plutarch to Lord Brougham. 
 
 Salmasius answered Milton's attack by an assault on his 
 private character. Indeed, the personalities on both sides were 
 atrocious and disgusting, as was the manner of that age. Peter 
 de Moulin also replied to the Defensio pro Popuh, and provoked 
 a rejoinder still fiercer from Milton's pen, entitled Defensio 
 Socunda. Salmasius shortly after died, according to some, 
 broken-hearted, owing to the neglect he experienced after 
 Milton's book appeared. For several years thereafter he was 
 principally occupied in his official duties; and having given 
 up his pupils, and finding his health somewhat impaired, he 
 removed to Scotland Yard, and thence to Garden House in 
 Westminster, where he continued till near the time of the 
 Restoration. In 1652, a calamity which had long impended 
 over at last came down on him — Ave allude to his blindness. 
 This had been slowly gaining on him, and the labours con- 
 nected with the Salmasian controversy brought it to a point. 
 Of course, there were many to cry out, a " judgment," and to 
 dream that it was a drop of the king's blood which had 
 quenched his eyes ! Milton has written more than one noble
 
 LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. XXI 
 
 complaint over his completed blindness. We could have con- 
 ceived him penning an expostulation to the advancing shadow, 
 equally sublime and equally vain, for it was God's pleasure 
 that this great spirit should, like himself, dwell for a season in 
 the thick darkness. The same year his wife died in childbed, 
 leaving him alone, blind, and with the care of three infant 
 daughters, the oldest of whom was not more than six years of 
 age. But he was only forty-four — his circumstances were 
 comfortable — his resolution was unconquerable, and he girded 
 himself up to mate with and overcome his difficulties. Mr 
 Philip Meadowes was appointed to assist him in his secretary- 
 ship, and yet his salary was not at first diminished. He was 
 married, in the year 1656, a second time. His wife was the 
 daughter of Captain Woodcock of Hackney. This marriage 
 was veiy happy, but of short continuance. She, too, died in 
 childbirth, within a year after marriage, and her memory lives 
 in one of his sweetest sonnets. By and by his salary was 
 reduced one-half, and his duties were divided, although his 
 pen was ever ready to defend the government down almost to 
 the date of the Restoration, 
 
 Relieved, first by the appointment of Meadowes, and then 
 of the celebrated Andrew Marvel, as his colleague, he began 
 to revolve certain vast literary projects, such as a Latin The- 
 saurus, a Body of Divinity out of the Bible, a History of his 
 Native Country, and an Epick Poem. For the Dictionary the 
 preparations were begun, but left in a fragmentary state — the 
 History was commenced after the " Paradise Lost" was finished 
 — the System of Divinity was discovered, and published in 1825 
 — and the design of the Epick was built up into the sublimest 
 production of the human mind. Meanwhile, in 1659, he pub- 
 lished his Treatise of Civil Power in Ecclesiastical Causes, 
 shewing that it is not lawful for any power on earth to compel 
 in matters of religion ; and, in the same year, Considerations 
 touching the Likeliest Means to Remove Hirelings out of the 
 Church ; a Letter to a Friend concerning the Ruptures of the 
 Commonwealth ; and a Letter to General Monk on the Present 
 Means of a Free Commonwealth. In February, he gave to the 
 world what he hoped might not contain the " last words of
 
 xxii LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 
 
 expiring liberty," in a Ready and Easy Way to Establish a 
 Free Commonwealth. 
 
 These efforts to retard the Restoration were strong, but con- 
 vulsive and ineffectual. Cromwell's genius was latterly the 
 one bulwark against the return of Charles ; he was now re- 
 moved, and there was nothing for it but that the nation, " like 
 a tame elephant, should kneel" and receive its worthless rider. 
 The consequences to Milton were disastrous ; he had sat for 
 years at ease in his " garden-house," labouring, but not toiling, 
 visited by friends such as Lawrence, Skinner, Needham, and 
 Marvel ; visited, too, by foreigners, many of whom came to 
 England simply to see Cromwell and Milton — in the posses- 
 sion of competence, if not wealth — blind, but full of internal 
 light, of celestial cheer, and with great projects passing 
 across his mind, and causing his eyes, as they passed, to 
 twinkle with joy. Now his secretaryship was lost, he was 
 obliged to take refuge in a friend's house in Bartholomew 
 Close ; nay, according to some accounts, to give himself out 
 for dead, and to have a mock funeral made for him. His 
 Eiconoclastes and Defensio were burned by the hands of the 
 common hangman. He was not relieved from danger till 
 the act of indemnity was passed ; and, even after that, he was 
 a short time in the custody of the serjeant-at-arms. As we 
 have elsewhere said, although the heat of persecution was 
 abated, the prospects of Milton were aught but cheering. He 
 was poor, blind, solitary — his second wife dead — his daughters 
 undutiful, unkind, and anxious for his death — his country was 
 enslaved — the hopes of the Church and the world seemed 
 blasted — one might have expected that disappointment, regret, 
 and vexation would have completed their work. It was the 
 greatest crisis in the history of the individual man. Napoleon 
 survived the loss of his empire, and men call him great 
 because he survived it. ( Sir Walter Scott not only survived 
 the loss of his fortune, but he struggled manfully amid the 
 sympathy of the civilised species to repair it. But Milton, 
 amid the loss of friends, fortune, fame, sight, domestic comfort, 
 long cherished hopes, not only survived, but stood firm as a 
 god over the ruins of a world — and not only stood firm, but,
 
 LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. XX111 
 
 alone and unaided, built to himself an everlasting monument. 
 "Verily, lie was one of the celestial coursers who feed on no 
 vulgar or earthly food. He had " meat to eat that the world 
 knew not of." 
 
 As soon as he felt himself out of danger, he settled in 
 Holborn, and then in Jewin Street, Aldersgate, and resumed 
 his wonted studies. In 1664 he married his third wife, 
 Elizabeth Minshull, daughter of Sir Edward Minshull, in 
 Cheshire. It was a " made-up match," she having been 
 chosen at his request by his friend Dr Paget, to be the nurse 
 of his declining years. Like his other two wives, she was a 
 maiden. He had an aversion to marrying widows. His 
 daughters, three in number, Anne, Mary, and Deborah, acted 
 as his amanuenses till the period of their respective marriages. 
 They were taught to read, without understanding, Latin, 
 Greek, and Hebrew, to their blind father. From this slavery 
 it is not to be wondered that they shrunk ; but, besides, they 
 are said to have combined with his maid-servant in cheating 
 him, and to have pawned his books. On what terms he lived 
 with his third wife is not quite certain. A little after his 
 marriage, he is said to have been offered the Latin secretary- 
 ship again, but declined it. About this time commenced his 
 intimacy with Ellwood the Quaker. This amiable and intel- 
 ligent young man used to come every afternoon except that of 
 Sunday, and to read Latin to him. Ellwood, though himself 
 an object of persecution, found means to be serviceable to 
 Milton. He had got a situation as tutor in the family of a 
 rich Quaker in Chalfont, Buckinghamshire, and when the 
 plague broke out in London in 1665, he hired there a 
 house for the poet, who removed to Chalfont with all his 
 family. When he arrived, he found Ellwood imprisoned in 
 Aylesbury gaol on account of his religion. As soon, however, 
 as he obtained his liberty, he paid Milton a visit, who put 
 into his hands a MS., requesting him to read it, and give him 
 his opinion. It was Paradise Lost ! He had commenced this 
 marvellous poem two years before the Restoration, and it had 
 thus occupied him seven years — a time neither too long nor 
 too short for the construction of such a piece of Cyclopean
 
 Xxiv LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 
 
 masonry. His purpose of writing an epic had never been 
 relinquished, and from harsh and crabbed controversies he 
 returned gladly to poetry, like a wearied sea-bird to his nest. 
 It was not composed, as might have been imagined, in slow 
 and regular succession of effort, but at fits and snatches, the 
 " spirit moving him at times," as it did of old his Danite 
 hero. It is curious, that, though the most intensely cultivated 
 of poets, he was most dependent on moods and moments ; 
 his favourite season was from the " autumnal to the vernal 
 equinox." Now, he could only indite coarse and clumsy 
 prose, and, anon, " flowed free his unpremeditated verse" in 
 a " torrent rapture " of beauty, music, and power. The poem, 
 though completed and approved of by Ellwood, was nearly 
 stifled in its cradle by the licenser, who detected treason in 
 that noble simile of the eclipse — 
 
 " "With fear of change perplexing monarchs." 
 
 Perhaps, also, he felt some little spite to the author of the 
 Areopagitica, who had treated his tribe with such crushing 
 contempt. At length, however, licensed the poem was, and 
 Milton sold his copy, April 27, 1667, to Samuel Symmons, 
 for an immediate payment of five pounds — an agreement with 
 the bookseller, however, entitling him to a conditional pay- 
 ment of five pounds more when thirteen hundred copies should 
 be sold of the first edition ; of the same sum after the same 
 number of the second edition ; and of another five pounds after 
 the same sale of the third ; the number of each edition was not 
 to exceed fifteen hundred copies. It appeared in a small quarto 
 form, in ten books, and was sold for three shillings. We have 
 seen this first edition as well as the third, and, humble as they 
 were in binding, they seemed to our eyes covered all over, like 
 a summer's sunset, with glory. In two years the sale gave the 
 author a right to his second instalment. The second edition 
 appeared in 1647, and was arranged into twelve books. Milton 
 lived not to receive the price stipulated for this impression. 
 The third edition was published in 1678, and, on the receipt 
 of eight pounds, the widow of the poet gave it over entire to 
 Symmons, who sold it for twenty-five pounds to Aylmer, and
 
 LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. XXV 
 
 from him it passed into Jacob Tonson's hands. It is singular, 
 contrasting this " goodly price " at which the greatest of 
 English poems was prized, with the large sums which have 
 been paid since for Marmions, and Lalla Rookhs, and Childe 
 Harolds, or even with the experiences of our own day, in 
 which, a month or two ago, a young author sold his first poem 
 for one hundred pounds. But readers were then scarce, poetry 
 was still more than now a drug ; Milton's name had become 
 odious from his principles, and he seems to have never com- 
 plained of his bargain. He saw, shall we say, those poor five 
 bank-notes fluttering in the breath of eternal fame ? He cast 
 his book upon the waters, knowing that it would be found after 
 many days. 
 
 Slowly and surely it made its way. First Barrow and 
 Marvel prefixed complimentary verses to the second edition, 
 then Dryden wrote his celebrated hexastich, beginning, 
 
 a Three poets in three distant ages born," &c. 
 
 which accompanies the fourth, besides praising it in the preface 
 to his " State of Innocence" as u one of the greatest, most noble, 
 and most sublime poems which either this age or nation has 
 produced." Woodford, Lord Roscommon, Sheffield, Duke of 
 Buckingham, and Bishop Atterbury, followed in diversified 
 measures of praise; and even before Addison wrote his long 
 analysis of it in the Spectator, its character and fame were 
 established on an indestructible basis. 
 
 We must not omit the numerous prose works he wrote before 
 or after the u Paradise Lost." These were his Accidence or 
 Commenced Grammar of the Latin Tongue, published in 1661; 
 a History of Britain to the Norman Conquest, in 1670; a tract 
 published in 1673, entitled, Of True Religion, Heresy, Schism, 
 Toleration, and what best Means may he used against the Growth 
 of Popery — a Latin treatise on logic — a collection of his familiar 
 epistles in Latin — a brief History of Muscovy and the countries 
 beyond Russia, which was left by him in MS., besides the mate- 
 rials for his Thesaurus, and his treatise on Christian Doctrine. 
 One is utterly amazed at the industry, the determination, the 
 energy, the power of mind and memory, the almost miraculous
 
 XXVI LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 
 
 concentration, as well as the multiformity of nature which these 
 works evince. He seems one of his own angels, now talking 
 familiarly to Adam, and now plucking up, and tossing to and 
 fro, the rooted hills of heaven. " Truly," says Johnson, " he 
 was born for whatever was arduous, and difficulties vanished at 
 his touch." 
 
 After the plague was over, and the city cleansed, Milton had 
 returned to Banhillfields, Ere leaving Chalfont, he had com- 
 menced, at Ellwood's suggestion (who had playfully asked him, 
 since he had sung Paradise Lost so well, to give the world 
 something on Paradise Found), and finished " Paradise Re- 
 gained." To this, on returning to town, he added " Samson 
 Agonistes," and published them both in one volume in 1671. 
 That Milton preferred " Paradise Regained" to the larger work 
 has often been asserted, but is not true. According to Phillipps, 
 he merely expressed his mortification at finding it treated as 
 so much inferior to the u Paradise Lost." At this feeling few 
 will now be astonished. That the " Paradise Regained" is not 
 so long as the other is, of course, admitted. Its plan did not 
 permit such lofty and daring flights ; but in Homeric simpli- 
 city, in sustained dignity, in calmness of spirit, and nice 
 beauty of image and language, it is superior, and may rank as 
 the Odyssey of his genius. More of this, however, afterwards. 
 
 But the time was now come when this great spirit was to 
 put off this tabernacle, and join his starry kindred in those 
 regions calm, of mild and serene air, where his imagination 
 and heart had long taken up their permanent abode. The 
 u Lord had shut him in" in his darkened framework, as Noah in 
 the ark of old ; but he was now to open the ark and let him 
 forth free, and free for ever. His disease was gout, attended 
 with a general decay of the vital powers. Feeling himself near 
 his end, he sent for his brother Christopher, then a bencher in 
 the Inner Temple, to aid him in making his will. In fine 
 keeping his death took place, amid the stillness and solemn 
 pause of a Sabbath-day. This was the 8th of November 1674. 
 It was a quiet and Godlike dismissal. There were attendants 
 in the room, but they did not notice the moment of his ex- 
 piration, it was so easy. Milton died, as he had lived, alone.
 
 LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. XXV11 
 
 It is with a certain severe satisfaction that we contemplate 
 the death of such a man. We feel that tears and lamentations 
 were here unbecoming, and would mar the solemn sweetness 
 of the scene. With serenity — nay, joy — we witness this 
 majestic manchild caught up to God and to his throne. Were 
 we to behold a star re-absorbed into its source, melted down 
 in God, would it not generate a delight, graver, indeed, but 
 as real, as had we stood by its creation ? and although there 
 were no shouting as on its natal morn, might there not be 
 silence, the silence of joyous wonder, among the sons of God ? 
 Thus died Milton, the prince of modern men. He accepted 
 death as gently and complacently as the sky receives into its 
 arms the waning moon. 
 
 His remains were followed to the grave by " all his learned 
 and great friends in London, not without a friendly concourse 
 of the vulgar." He was buried next his father in the chancel 
 of St Giles, Cripplegate. The stone laid at first on his grave 
 was speedily removed, and no monument was raised over his 
 dust till 1793, when a marble bust from Bacon's chisel was, 
 at the instance of Mr Whitbread, erected in the middle aisle 
 of the church. Fifty-six years previous, Benson had pro- 
 cured the admission of his bust into Westminster Abbey. 
 But what need of busts or monuments, any more than of de- 
 grees or titles, to him ? The plain name, John Milton, more 
 securely preserves his memory, 
 
 " Than if a pyramid formed his monumental fane." 
 
 This part of our task is now nearly done. The personal 
 appearance, habits, and manners of the great Poet, are too 
 familiar to require lengthened remark. He was of the middle 
 size, neither lean nor corpulent, his skin fresh and fair, his 
 eyes gray, his features regular, his hair light-brown, parted at 
 the fore-top, and hanging in curls upon his shoulders. In his 
 food and liquor he was not an anchorite, but extremely tempe- 
 rate, his rule being, Not too much. His days were regulated by an 
 exact and severe system. He was in conversation affable and 
 easy, although his temper was severe, and he was a " good 
 hater." His favourite enjoyment was music, and his favourite
 
 XXV111 LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 
 
 instrument the organ. His life, even in youth, and in the 
 countries of the south, was entirely unstained by sensual im- 
 purities. His literature was enormous. The languages, 
 Hebrew, Greek, Latin, Italian, French, and Spanish, hung 
 like keys from his girdle, and he had employed them to unlock 
 all the treasures they commanded. His favourite book was 
 the Bible in the original, and next to it, Homer and Euripides 
 in Greek, Ovid in Latin, Dante in Italian, and Spenser, 
 Shakspere, and Cowley in English. Liberty and religion 
 were the two master passions of his soul, although his views 
 of the former were rather ultra, even for our age, and although 
 in theology he was very far from what is called orthodox, 
 being a Millennarian, an Arminian, an Anti-sabbatarian, and 
 verging on Arianism. His personal piety has never been 
 questioned. It was not obtrusive nor unctuous, and would not 
 tell in our " religious obituaries," but was manly, enlightened, 
 sincere, and fervid. 
 
 And yet Milton does not seem to have been a happy man. 
 Domestic infelicities, public affairs, and personal neglect, seem 
 latterly to have made him sour, though never savage. In 
 fact, this earth was a sphere too narrow for him. He was 
 u before all ages." Space was his only fitting abode, and eter- 
 nity his only adequate day. And when we look at him and 
 the other men of his time, we are tempted to say, " There were 
 giants in those days," while we have fallen on the days of 
 little men ; nay, to ciy out with her of old, " I sa,w gods ascend- 
 ing from the earth, and one of them is like to an old man, 
 whose face is covered with a mantle"
 
 PARADISE LOST.
 
 THE VERSE. 
 
 The measure is English heroic verse without rhyme, as that of Ilomer in Greek, 
 and of Virgil in Latin ; rhyme being no necessary adjunct or true ornament of 
 poem or good verse, in longer works especially, but the invention of a barbarous 
 age, to set off wretched matter and lame metre ; graced, indeed, since by the 
 use of some famous modern poets, carried away by custom, but much to their 
 own vexation, hindrance, and constraint to express many things otherwise, 
 and for the most part worse, than else they would have expressed them. Not 
 without cause, therefore, some both Italian and Spanish poets of prime note 
 have rejected rhyme both in longer and shorter works, as have also long since 
 our best English tragedies, as a thing of itself, to all judicious cars, trivial, and 
 of no true musical delight ; which consists only in apt numbers, fit quantity of 
 syllables, and the sense variously drawn out from one verse into another, not in 
 the jingling sound of like endings, a fault avoided by the learned ancients both 
 in poetry and all good oratory. This neglect, then, of rhyme so little is to 
 be taken for a defect, though it may seem so perhaps to vulgar readers, that 
 it is rather to be esteemed an example set, the first in English, of ancient 
 liberty recovered to heroic poem, from the troublesome and modem bondage of 
 rhyming.
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 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 centre (for heaven and earth may be supposed as 
 yet not made, certainly not yet accursed), but in a place of utter darkness, 
 fitliest called Ghaos : here Satan, with his angels, lying on the burning 
 lake, thunderstruck and astonished, after a certain space recovers as from 
 confusion, calls up him who next in order and dignity lay by him : they 
 confer 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 named 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 a new kind of creature to be created, according to an 
 ancient prophecy or report in heaven ; 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 what to determine thereon, he refers to a 
 full council. What his associates thence attempt. Pandemonium, the 
 palace of Satan, rises suddenly, built out of the deep : the infernal peers 
 there sit in council. 
 
 Op Man's first disobedience, and the fruit 
 
 Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste 
 
 Brought death into the world, and all our woe, 
 
 "With loss of Eden, till one greater Man 
 
 Restore us, and regain the blissful seat, 
 
 Sing, heavenly Muse, that, on the secret top g
 
 4 TARAD1SE LOST. 
 
 Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire 7 
 
 That shepherd, who first taught the chosen seed, 
 In the beginning how the Heavens and Earth 
 Hose out of Chaos : Or, if Sion hill 
 Delight thee more, and Siloa's 1 brook that flow'd 
 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 
 L Things unattempted yet in prose or rhime. 
 ^ 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 20 
 Dove-like, sat'st brooding on the vast abyss, 
 And mad'st it pregnant : What in me is dark, 
 Illumine : what is low, raise and support ; 
 That to the highth of this great argument 
 I may assert Eternal Providence, 
 
 And justify the ways of God to men. 
 
 Say first, for Heaven hides nothing from thy view, 
 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 yo 
 
 From their Creator, and transgress his will 
 For one restraint, lords of the world besides'? 
 Who first seduced them to that foul revolt 1 
 The infernal Serpent ; he it was, whose guile, 
 Stirr'd up with envy and revenge, deceiv'd 
 The mother of mankind, what time his pride 
 Had cast him out from Heaven, with all his host 
 Of rebel Angels ; by whose aid aspiring 
 To set himself in glory above his peers, 
 
 1 ' Biloa : ' a small brook flowing near the Temple of Jerusalem.
 
 BOOK I. 5 
 
 He trusted to have equall'd the Most High, 40 
 
 If he oppos'd ; and, with ambitious aim 
 
 Against the throne and monarchy of God, 
 
 Raised impious war in Heaven, and battle proud, 
 
 With vain attempt. Him the Almighty Power 
 
 Hurl'd 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 so 
 
 To mortal men, he with his horrid crew 
 
 Lay vanquish'd, rolling in the fiery gulf, 
 
 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, 
 
 As one great furnace flam'd ; yet from those flames 
 
 No light ; but rather darkness visible 
 
 Serv'd only to discover sights of woe, 
 
 Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace 
 
 And rest can never dwell , hope never comes, 
 
 That comes to all ; but torture without end 
 
 Still urges, and a fiery deluge, fed 
 
 With ever-burning sulphur unconsumed : 
 
 Such place Eternal Justice had prepared 70 
 
 For those rebellious ; here their prison ordain'd 
 
 In utter darkness, and their portion set 
 
 As far removed from God and light of Heaven,
 
 6 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 As from the center thrice to the utmost pole. M 
 
 how unlike the place from whence they fell ! 
 There the companions of his fall, o'erwhelni'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, 
 Long after known in Palestine, and named 
 Beelzebub. 1 To whom the Arch-Enemy, 
 And thence in Heaven called Satan, with bold words 
 Breaking the horrid silence, thus began : 
 
 1 If thou beest he ; but 0, how fallen ! how chang'd 
 From him, who, in the happy realms of light, 
 Cloth'd with transcendent brightness, didst outshine 
 Myriads though bright ! If he, whom mutual league, 
 United thoughts and counsels, equal hope 
 And hazard in the glorious enterprise, 
 Join'd with me once, now misery hath join'd 90 
 
 In equal ruin ! Into what pit thou seest, 
 From what highth fallen; so much the stronger proved 
 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 chang'd in outward lustre, that fix'd mind, 
 And high disdain, from sense of injur'd merit, 
 That with the Mightiest raised me to contend, 
 And to the fierce contention brought along ioo 
 
 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 though the field be lost ? 
 All is not lost ; the unconquerable will, 
 
 1 ' Beelzebub : ' see 2 Kinys i. 2.
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 And study of revenge, immortal hate, 107 
 
 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 terrour of this arm so late 
 
 Doubted his empire ; that were low indeed, 
 
 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 120 
 
 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. 
 1 Prince ! Chief of many throned Powers, 
 That led the embattled Seraphim to war 
 Under thy conduct, and, in dreadful deeds iso 
 
 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,
 
 » PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Though all our glory extinct, and happy state i« 
 
 Here swallow'd up in endless misery. 
 
 But what if He our Conquerour (whom I now 
 
 Of force believe Almighty, since no less 
 
 Than such could have o'erpower'd such force as ours) 
 
 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, 1 50 
 
 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 undiminished, 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, 16 ° 
 
 As being the contrary to his high will 
 
 Whom we resist^ If then his providence 
 
 Out of oufevil 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 17 ° 
 
 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 receiv'd us falling ; and the thunder,
 
 BOOK I. S 
 
 Wing'd with, red lightning and impetuous rage, 175 
 
 Perhaps hath spent his shafts, and ceases now 
 
 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, iso 
 
 The seat of Desolation, void of light, 
 
 Save what the glimmering of these livid flames 
 
 Casts pale and dreadful 1 Thither let us tend 
 
 From off the tossing of these fiery w 7 aves ; 
 
 There rest, if any rest can harbour there ; 
 
 And, reassembling our afflicted Powers, 
 
 Consult how w T e may henceforth most offend 
 
 Our Enemy ; our own loss how repair ; 
 
 How overcome this dire calamity ; 
 
 What re-enforcement we may gain from hope ; 390 
 
 If not, what resolution from despair. *' 
 
 Thus Satan talking to his nearest mate 
 With head uplift above the w r ave, and eyes 
 That sparkling blaz'd ; 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, 1 whom the den 
 By ancient Tarsus held ; or that sea-beast 200 
 
 Leviathan, 2 which God of all his works 
 Created hugest that swim the ocean stream : 
 Ilim, 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 
 
 1 i Briareos or Typhon : ' two mythological monsters commemorated in 
 Ovid. — - ' Leviathan : ' Milton means evidently the whale.
 
 10 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Moors by his side under the lee, while night 207 
 
 Invests the sea, and wished morn delays : 
 
 So stretch'd out huge in length the Arch-Fiend lay, 
 
 Chain'd on the burning lake : nor ever thence 
 
 Had risen, or heav'd 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, enrag'd, might see 
 
 How all his malice serv'd 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. 220 
 
 Forthwith upright he rears from off the pool 
 
 His mighty stature; on each hand the flames, 
 
 Driven backward, slope their pointing spires, and roll'd 
 
 In billows, leave i' the midst a horrid vale. 
 
 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 230 
 
 Of subterranean wind transports a hill 
 
 Torn from Pelorus, 1 or the shattcr'd side 
 
 Of thundering zEtna, whose combustible 
 
 And fuelFd entrails thence conceiving fire, 
 
 Sublimed with mineral fury, aid the winds, 
 
 And leave a singed bottom all involved 
 
 With stench and smoke : such resting found the sole 
 
 Of unblest feet. Him follow'd his next mate ; 
 
 1 • Felorus : ' one of the three great promontories of Sicily, now Cape Faro, 
 near Etna.
 
 BOOK I. 11 
 
 Both glorying to have 'scaped the Stygian flood 239 
 As gods, and by their own recover'd strength, 
 Not by the sufferance of supernal Power. 
 
 ' Is this the region, this the soil, the clime, 
 Said then the lost Arch- Angel, this the seat 
 That we must change for Heaven ; this mournful gloom, 
 For that celestial light \ Be it so ! since he, 
 Who now is Sovran, can dispose, and bid 
 What shall be right : farthest from Him is best, 
 Whom reason hath equall'd, force hath made supreme 
 Above his equals. Farewell, nappy fields, 
 Where joy for ever dwells ! Hail, horrours ! hail, 250 
 Infernal world ! And thou, profoundest Hell,. 
 Receive thy new possessour ! — one wlrc> 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 
 W^e shall be free ; the Almighty hath not built 
 Here for his envy, will not drive us hence : 260 
 
 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 copartners 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 w r hat may be yet 
 Regained in Heaven, or what more lost in Hell V 270 
 
 So Satan spake, and him Beelzebub 
 Thus answer'd. Leader of those armies bright,
 
 12 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Which, but the Omnipotent, none could have foil'd ! 273 
 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 rag'd, 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, 280 
 
 As we erewhile, astounded and amaz'd; 
 No wonder, fallen such a pernicious highth. 
 
 lie scarce had ceas'd, when the superiour Fiend 
 Was moving toward the shore : his ponderous shield, 
 Ethereal temper, massy, large and round, 
 y Behind him cast ; the broad circumference 
 Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose orb 
 Through optick glass the Tuscan artist 1 views 
 At evening from the top of Fesole, 
 Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands, 290 
 
 Rivers, or mountains, in her spotty globe. 
 His spear, to equal which the tallest pine, 
 Hewn on Norwegian hills to be the mast 
 Of some great ammiral, were but a wand, 
 He walk'd 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 : 
 Nathlcss he so endur'd, till on the beach 
 Of that inflamed sea he stood, and calTd 300 
 
 His legions, Angel forms, who lay intrane'd 
 Thick as autumnal leaves that strow the brooks 
 In Vallombrosa, 2 where the Etrurian shades, 
 High ovcr-arch'd, imbowcr ; or scatter d sedge 
 
 * ' 'Tuscan artist:' Galileo. — * 'Vallombrosa:' a beautiful wooilcd vale, 
 eighteen miles from Florence.
 
 BOOK I. 13 
 
 Afloat, when with fierce winds Orion 1 arm'd 305 
 
 Hath vex'd the Red Sea coast, whose waves o'erthrew 
 
 Busiris 2 and his Memphian chivalry, 
 
 While with perfidious hatred they pursued 
 
 The sojourners of Goshen, who beheld 
 
 From the safe shore their floating carcasses sio 
 
 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, 
 
 Warriours, the flower of heaven ! once yours, now lost, 
 
 If such astonishment as this can seize 
 
 Eternal Spirits ! or have ye chosen this place 
 
 After the toil of battle to repose 
 
 Your wearied virtue, for the ease you find 320 
 
 To slumber here as in the vales of Heaven ? 
 
 Or in this abject posture have ye sworn 
 
 To adore the Conquerour \ 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 1 
 
 Awake, arise, or be for ever fallen ! 330 
 
 They heard, and were abash'd, and up they sprung 
 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 ; 
 
 14 Orion:' the -warrior constellation, symbolizing storms. — 2 'Busiris:' 
 Pharaoh.
 
 14 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Yet to tlicir General's voice they soon obey'd, 337 
 
 Innumerable. As when the potent rod 
 
 Of Amram's son, 1 in Egypt's evil day, 
 
 Wav'd round the coast, upcall'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 clown they light 
 
 On the firm brimstone, and fill all the plain ; 350 
 
 A multitude, like which the populous North 
 
 Pour'd never from her frozen loins, to pass 
 
 Rhene 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 
 
 Tlicir great Commander ; Godlike shapes and forms 
 
 Excelling human ; princely Dignities 
 
 And Powers that erst in Heaven sat on thrones; :3C0 
 
 Though of their names in heavenly records now 
 
 Be no memorial ; blotted out and ras'd 
 
 By their rebellion from the books of life. 
 
 Nor had they yet among the sons of Eve 
 
 Got them new names ; till wandering o'er the earth, 
 
 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 
 
 1 ' Amram's son :' Moses.
 
 BOOK I. 15 
 
 Glory of him that made them to transform 3 "o 
 
 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 last, 
 Rous'd from the slumber, on that fiery couch, 
 At their great Emperour's call, as next in worth 
 Came singly where he stood on the bare strand, 
 While the promiscuous crowd stood yet aloof. 3so 
 
 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, thron'd 
 Between the Cherubim ; yea, often placed 
 Within his sanctuary itself their shrines, 
 Abominations ; and with cursed things 
 His holy rites and solemn feasts profan'd, 390 
 
 And with their darkness durst affront his lidit. 
 
 Fi rst, Moloch, 1 horrid king, besmear'd with blood 
 Of human sacrifice, and parents' tears ; 
 Though, for the noise of drums and timbrels loud, 
 Their children's cries unheard, that pass'd through fire 
 To his grim idol. Him the Ammonite 
 Worshipp'd in Rabba and her watery plain, 
 In Argob and in Basan, to the stream 
 Of utmost Arnon ; nor content with such 
 Audacious neighbourhood, the wisest heart 400 
 
 Of Solomon he led by fraud to build 
 
 1 ' Moloch :' god of the Ammonites, by some supposed identical with the 
 Mars of the Greeks.
 
 16 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 His temple right against the temple of God 402 
 
 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 Chenios^ 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 floVry dale of Sibma clad with vines ; 410 
 
 And Eleale 2 to the Asphaltic pool : 3 
 
 Peor 4 his other name, when he entie'd 
 
 Israel in Sittim, on their march from Nile, 
 
 To do him wanton rites, which cost them woe. 
 
 Yet thence his lustful orgies he enlarg'd 
 
 Even to that hill of scandal, by the grove 
 
 Of Moloch homicide ; lust hard by hate ; 
 
 Till sood Josiah drove them thence to Hell. 
 
 With these came they, who, from the bordering flood 
 
 Of old Euphrates to the brook that parts 5 420 
 
 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 
 
 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 choose, 
 
 Dilated or condens'd, bright or obscure, 
 
 Can execute their aery purposes, 430 
 
 And works of love or enmity fulfil. 
 
 For those the race of Israel oft forsook 
 
 •'Chcmos:' idol of Moabitcs.— 2l Aroer,' 'Nebo,' ' Ilcscbon,' 'Sibma,' 
 ' Elciile,' &c. ; all cities of Moab.— 3 ' Aphakic pool:' the Dead Sea, so 
 called from the asphaltus or bitumen in it.— 4 '1W:' Baal Boor.— s ' The 
 brook that parts :' the brook Besor.
 
 BOOK I. 17 
 
 Their Living Strength, and unfrequented left 433 
 
 His righteous altar, bowing lowly down 
 
 To bestial gods ; for which their heads as low 
 
 Bow'cl down in battle, sunk before the spear 
 
 Of despicable foes. With these in troop 
 
 Came Astoreth, whom the Phoenicians call'd 
 
 Astarte, 1 queen of Heaven, with crescent horns ; 
 
 To whose bright image nightly by the moon 440 
 
 Sidonian virgins paid their vows and songs ; 
 
 In Sion also not unsung, where stood 
 
 Her temple on the offensive mountain, 2 built 
 
 By that uxorious king, whose heart, though large, 
 
 Beguiled by fair idolatresses, fell 
 
 To idols foul. Thammuz 3 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 4 from his native rock 450 
 
 Ran 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, 
 
 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 grunsel edge, 5 460 
 
 Where he fell flat, and sham'd his worshippers ; 
 
 Dagon his name, sea-monster, upward man 
 
 14 Astarte:' the moon. — 2 ' Offensive mountain:' Mount of Olives. — 
 3 'Thammuz :' or Adonis, god of the Syrians, fabled to die and revive each 
 year. — * ' Adonis : ' the name of a river rising in Lebanon. — 5 ' Grunsel 
 edge :' edge of foot-post of his temple. 
 
 B
 
 18 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 And downward fish : jet had his temple high 463 
 
 Eear'd in Azotus, dreaded through the coast 
 
 Of Palestine, in Gath, and Ascalon, 
 
 And Accaron and Gaza's frontier bounds. 
 
 Him follow'd Rimmon, 1 whose delightful seat 
 
 Was fair Damascus, on the fertile banks 
 
 Of Abbana and Pharphar, lucid streams. 
 
 He also 'gainst the house of God was bold : 470 
 
 A leper once he lost, and gain'd a king ; 
 
 Ahaz, his sottish conquerour, whom he drew 
 
 God's altar to disparage, and displace, 
 
 For one of Syrian mould, whereon to burn 
 
 Ilis 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, 2 and their train, 
 
 With monstrous shapes and sorceries abus'd 
 
 Fanatic Egypt and her priests, to seek 480 
 
 Their wandering gods disguis'd in brutish forms 
 
 Rather than human. Nor did Israel 'scape 
 
 The infection, when their borrow'd gold compos'd 
 
 The calf in Oreb ; and the rebel king 
 
 Doubled that sin in Bethel, and in Dan, 
 
 Lik'ning his Maker to the grazed ox ; 
 
 Jehovah, who, in one night, when he pass'd 
 
 From Egypt marching, equall'd with one stroke 
 
 Botli her first-born and all her bleating gods. 
 
 Belial came last, than whom a Spirit more lewd 490 
 
 Fell not from Heaven, or more gross to love 
 
 Vice for itself: to him no temple stood 
 
 Or altar smok'd ; yet who more oft than he 
 
 1 ' Rimmon :' god of Syrians. — 2 ' Orus:' son of Osiris and Isis. It was 
 fabled that when the giants invaded heaven, the gods concealed themselves 
 in Egypt in the forms of various animals.
 
 BOOK I. 19 
 
 In temples and at altars, when the priest 494 
 
 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 500 
 
 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 JavanV issue ; held 
 Gods, yet confess'd later than Heaven and Earth, 2 
 Their boasted parents : Titan, Heaven's first-born, 510 
 With his enormous brood, and birthright 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, rul'd the middle air, 
 Their highest Heaven ; or on the Delphian cliff 
 Or in Dodona, and through all the bounds 
 Of Dorick land ; 3 or who, with Saturn old, 
 Fled over Adria 4 to the Hesperian fields, 5 520 
 
 And o'er the Celtick 6 roam'd the utmost isles. 7 
 
 All these and more came flocking ; but with looks 
 Downcast and damp ; yet such wherein appear'd 
 
 1 ' Javan : ' fourth son of Japhet ; whence supposed to issue the gods of 
 Greece. But an older race had preceded them. — 2 ' Heaven and Earth:' the 
 Titans, &c. See Keats' Hyperion.— 3 'Dorick land:' Greece.— 4 'Adria:' 
 the Adriatic. — 5 ' Hesperian fields:' Italy.— 6 ' Celtick:' regions inhabited 
 by the Celts. — 7 ' Utmost isles :' Britain, Ireland, &c.
 
 20 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Obscure some glimpse of joy, to have found their Chief 
 Not in despair, to have found themselves not lost 525 
 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 rais'd 
 Their fainting courage, and dispelled their fears. 530 
 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 imblaz'd, 
 Seraphic arms and trophies ; all the while 
 Sonorous metal blowing; martial sounds : 54 o 
 
 At which the universal host upsent 
 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 
 Appcar'd, and serried shields in thick array 
 Of depth immeasurable : Anon they move 
 In perfect phalanx to the Dorian mood 550 
 
 Of flutes and soft recorders ; such as rais'd 
 To highth of noblest temper heroes old 
 Arming to battle ; and, instead of rage, 
 Deliberate valour brcath'd, firm and unmov'd 
 With dread of death to flight or foul retreat ; 
 + Nor wanting power to mitigate and swage, 
 With solemn touches troubled thoughts, and chase
 
 BOOK I. 21 
 
 Anguish, and doubt, and fear, and sorrow, and pain, 558 
 
 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, 
 
 Advanc'd in view, they stand ; a horrid front 
 
 Of dreadful length and dazzling arms, in guise 
 
 Of warriours old with order'd spear and shield ; 
 
 Awaiting what command their mighty Chief 
 
 Had to impose : He through the armed files 
 
 Darts his experienc'd eye, and soon traverse 
 
 The whole battalion views ; their order due ; 
 
 Their visages and stature as of gods ; 570 
 
 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 imbodied force, as nam'd with these 
 
 Could merit more than that small infantry 1 
 
 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 
 
 Mix'd with auxiliar gods ; and what resounds 
 
 In fable or romance of Uther's son 2 sso 
 
 Begirt with British and Armorick knights ; 
 
 And all who since, baptiz'd or infidel, 
 
 Jousted in Aspramont, or Montalban, 
 
 Damasco, or Marocco, or Trebisond, 
 
 Or whom Biserta sent from Africk shore, 
 
 When Charlemain with all his peerage fell 
 
 By Fontarabbia. 3 Thus far these beyond 
 
 Compare of mortal prowess yet observ'd 
 
 1 ' Small infantry : ' Pygmies. — 2 ' Uther's son : ' King Arthur.— 3 ' Aspramont,' 
 'Montalban,' 'Biserta,' 'Fontarabbia,' &c. ; all places famous in romantic 
 history, and chiefly for contests between Saracens and Christians.
 
 22 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Their dread Commander : He, above the rest 539 
 
 In shape and gesture proudly eminent, 
 Stood like a tower : his form had yet not lost 
 All its original brightness ; nor appear'd 
 Less than Arch- Angel 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. Darkened so, yet shone 
 I Above them all, the Arch-Angel : but his face eoo 
 
 Deep scars of thunder had intrench'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) condemn'd 
 For ever now to have their lot in pain ; 
 Millions of spirits for his fault amere'd 
 Of Heaven, and from eternal splendours flung 6io 
 
 For his revolt ; yet faithful how they stood, 
 Their glory withered : 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 prcpar'd 
 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 assay 'd, and thrice, in spite of scorn, 
 Tears, such as Angels weep, burst forth : at last 620 
 Words, interwove with sighs, found out their way. 
 Myriads of immortal Spirits ! Powers
 
 BOOK I. 23 
 
 Matchless but with the Almighty ! and that strife 623 
 
 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 1 630 
 
 For who can yet believe, though after loss, 
 
 That all these puissant legions, whose exile 
 
 Hath emptied Heaven, shall fail to reascend 
 
 Self-raised, and repossess their native seat \ 
 
 For me, be witness all the host of Heaven, 
 
 If counsels different, or dangers 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 640 
 
 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 provok'd : 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 65 ° 
 
 There went a fame in Heaven that he erelong 
 
 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 :
 
 
 24 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 For this infernal pit shall never hold 6.^7 
 
 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 resolv'd. 
 
 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 rag'd 
 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 gto 
 
 Belch'd fire and rolling smoke ; the rest entire 
 Shone with a glossy scurf; undoubted sign 
 That in his womb was hid metallick ore, 
 The work of sulphur. 1 Thither, wing'd with speed, 
 A numerous brigad hastened : as when bands 
 Of pioneers, with spade and pickaxe arm'd, 
 Forerun the royal camp, to trench a field, 
 Or cast a rampart. Mammon 2 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 csi 
 
 The riches of Heaven's pavement, trodden gold, 
 Than aught, divine or holy, else enjoy 'd 
 1 n vision beatifick : by him first 
 Men also, and by his suggestion taught, 
 Ransack'd the center, and with impious hands 
 Killed the bowels of their mother Earth, 
 For treasures, better hid. Soon had his crew 
 
 1 'The work of sulphur:' sulphur in ancient dayB was thought the genitrix 
 
 of gold. — 2 'Mammon:' the word is Syriac, and signifies riches.
 
 BOOK I. 25 
 
 Open'd into the hill a spacious wound, 689 
 
 And digg'd 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 outdone 
 
 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 prepar'd, 700 
 
 That underneath had veins of liquid fire 
 
 Sluiced from the lake, a second multitude 
 
 With wonderous art, founded the massy ore, 
 
 Severing each kind, and scumm'd the bullion dross : 
 
 A third as soon had form'd within the ground 
 
 A various mould, 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 710 
 
 Rose like an exhalation, with the sound 
 
 Of dulcet symphonies and voices sweet, 
 
 Built like a temple, where pilasters round 
 
 Were set, and Dorick pillars overlaid 
 
 With golden architrave ; nor did there want 
 
 Cornice or freeze, with bossy sculptures graven : 
 
 The roof was fretted gold. Not Babylon, 
 
 Nor great Alcairo, such magnificence 
 
 Equalled in all their glories, to enshrine 
 
 Belus or Serapis, 1 their gods ; or seat 720 
 
 Their kings, when Egypt with Assyria strove 
 
 1 ' Sernpis : ' an Egyptian god.
 
 26 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 In wealth and luxury. The ascending pile 722 
 
 Stood fix'd her stately highth : and straight the doors, 
 
 Opening their brazen folds, discover, wide 
 
 Within, her ample spaces, o'er the smooth 
 
 And level pavement : from the arched roof, 
 
 Pendent by subtle magick, many a row 
 
 Of starry lamps and blazing cressets, 1 fed 
 
 With naphtha and asphaltus, yielded light 
 
 As from a sky. The hasty multitude 730 
 
 Admiring enter'd ; and the work some praise, 
 
 And some the architect : his hand was known 
 
 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 unador'd 
 
 In ancient Greece ; and in Ausonian 2 land 
 
 Men called him Mulciber ; 3 and how he fell 74 
 
 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 iE'gean isle : thus they relate, 
 
 Erring ; for he with his rebellious rout 
 
 Fell lonsz before ; nor aught avail'd him now 
 
 To have built in Heaven high towers ; nor did he 'scape 
 
 By all his engines, but was headlong sent 750 
 
 With his industrious crew to build in Hell. 
 
 Meanwhile, the winged heralds, by command 
 Of sovran power, with awful ceremony 
 
 1 'Cressets:' beacon lights, which anciently had a cross on their top, and 
 were called ' croisettes.' 1 — 2 ' Ausonian :' Italian. — 3 ' Mulciber :' Vulcan.
 
 BOOK I. 27 
 
 And trumpet's sound, throughout the host proclaim 754 
 
 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, 760 
 
 Attended : all access was throng'd ; the gates 
 
 And porches wide, but chief the spacious hall 
 
 (Though like a cover'd field, where champions bold 
 
 Wont ride in arm'd, and at the Soldan's 1 chair 
 
 Defied the best of Panim 2 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 3 rides, 
 
 Pour forth their populous youth about the hive 770 
 
 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 rubb'd with balm, expatiate and confer 
 
 Their state affairs. So thick the aery 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 780 
 
 Beyond the Indian mount ; or faery elves, c^a '3 
 
 Whose midnight revels, by a forest-side 
 
 Or fountain, some belated peasant sees, r 1 -* i<W»\ 
 
 Or dreams he sees, while overhead the moon 
 
 1 ' Solclan :' Sultan. — 2 ' Panim :' Pagan ; referring to ancient single com- 
 bats between the Christians and Saracens. — 3 ' Taurus :' the Bull— the sign of 
 April.
 
 28 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Sits arbitress, and nearer to the earth 785 
 
 Wheels her pale course ; they, on their mirth and dance 
 
 Intent, with jocund music charm his ear ; 
 
 At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds. 
 
 Thus incorporeal Spirits to smallest forms 
 
 Reduc'd 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 
 
 In close recess and secret conclave sat ; 795 
 
 A thousand demigods on golden seats, 
 
 Frequent and full. After short silence then, 
 
 And summons read, the great consult began.
 
 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 tradition in heaven concerning another 
 world, and another kind of creature, equal, or not much inferior, to them- 
 selves, 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 employments, as their inclinations lead 
 them, to entertain the time till Satan return. He passes on his journey 
 to Hell-gates ; — finds them shut, and M'ho 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 passes through, directed 
 by Chaos, the Power of that place, to the sight of this new world which 
 he sought. 
 
 High on a throne of royal state, which far 
 
 Outshone the wealth of Ormus 1 and of Ind, 
 
 Or where the gorgeous East, with richest hand, 
 
 Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold, 
 
 Satan exalted sat, by merit rais'd 
 
 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 2 untaught, 
 
 His proud imaginations thus display'd. 10 
 
 JlPowers and Dominions, Deities of Heaven ! 
 For since no deep within her gulf can hold 
 Immortal vigour, though oppress'd and fallen, 
 I give not Heaven for lost. From this descent 
 
 1 1 Ormus :' an island in the Persian Gulf. — 2 ' Success : ' i. e., bad success.
 
 30 PAEADISE LOST. 
 
 Celestial virtues rising, will appear 15 
 
 More glorious and more dread than from no fall, 
 
 And trust themselves to fear no second fate. 
 
 Me, though just right, and the fix'd laws of Heaven 
 
 Did first create your Leader ; next, free choice, 
 
 "With what besides, in council or in fight, 20 
 
 Hath been achieved of merit ; yet this loss, 
 
 Thus far at least recover'd, 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 inferiour ; 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 % Where there is then no good 30 
 
 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 assur'd us ; and, by what best way, 40 
 
 Whether of open war or covert guile, 
 
 Wo now debate : Who can advise, may speak. 
 
 He ceas'd ; and next him Moloch, sccpter'd 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 
 Car'd not to be at all ; with that care lost
 
 60 
 
 BOOK II. 31 
 
 Went all his fear : of God, or hell, or worse, 49 
 
 lie reck'd not ; and these words thereafter spake : 
 
 ^My sentence is foropenwar : Of wiles, * 
 
 More unexpert, I boast not : them let those 
 
 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 1 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 honour 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 70 
 
 The way seems difficult and deep to scale 
 
 With upright wing against a higher foe. 
 
 Let such bethink them, if the sleepy drench 
 
 Of that forgetful lake benum 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 so 
 
 We sunk thus low 1 The ascent is easy then ; 
 
 The event is fear'd ; should we again provoke
 
 32 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Our stronger, some worse way his wrath may find 83 
 
 To our destruction ; if there be in Hell 
 
 Fear to be worse destroyed : What can be worse 
 
 Than to dwell here, driven out from bliss, condemned 
 
 In this abhorred deep to utter woe ; 
 
 When pain of unextinguishable fire 
 
 Must exercise us without hope of end, 
 
 The vassals of his anger, when the scourge oo 
 
 Inexorably, and the torturing hour, 
 
 Calls us to penance 1 More destroy'd than thus, 
 
 We should be quite abolish'd, and expire. 
 
 What fear we then 1 what doubt we to incense 
 
 His utmost ire 1 which, to the highth enraged, 
 
 Will either quite consume us, and reduce 
 
 To nothing this essential ; happier far 
 
 Than miserable to have eternal being : 
 
 Or if our substance be indeed divine, 
 
 And cannot cease to be, we are at worst 100 
 
 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/ ' f 
 
 He ended frowning, and his look denounc'd 
 Desperate revenge, and battle dangerous 
 To less than gods. On the other side up-rose 
 Belial, in act more graceful than humane : 
 A fairer person lost not Heaven ; he seem'd no 
 
 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 
 Maturest counsels : for his thoughts were low : 
 To vice industrious, but to nobler deeds
 
 ^ 
 
 EOOK n. 33 
 
 Timorous and slothful : jet he pleas'd the ear, 117 
 
 And with persuasive accent thus began. 
 
 I should be much for open war, Peers, 
 As not behind in hate ; if what was urg'd 
 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 Heavn are fill'd 
 "^WTtlTarmed watch7that render all access iso 
 
 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 . 
 Bj force, and at our heels all Hell should rise 
 With blackest insurrection, to confound 
 Heaven's purest light ; jet our great Enemy, 
 All incorruptible, would on his throne 
 Sit unpolluted ; and the ethereal mould, 
 Incapable of stain, would soon expel uo 
 
 Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire, 
 Victorious. Thus repuls'd, 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, 
 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 y 
 In the wide womb of uncreated night, J 150 
 
 c
 
 34 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Devoid of sense and motion ? And who knows, 151 
 
 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 \ Wherefore cease we then % 
 
 Say they who counsel war, we are decreed, ieo 
 
 Reserv'd, and destin'd to eternal woe ; 
 
 Whatever doing, what can we suffer more, 
 
 What can we suffer worse % 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 ? 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, 170 
 
 Awak'd, should blow them into sevenfold 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, 
 
 Impendent horrours, 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, 180 
 
 Each on his rock transfix'd, the sport and prey 
 
 Of racking whirlwinds : or for ever sunk 
 
 Under yon boiling ocean, wrapt in chains ; 
 
 There to converse with everlasting groans,
 
 BOOK II. 35 
 
 Unrespited, unpitied, unreprieved, 185 
 
 Ages of hopeless end % This would be worse. 
 
 War therefore, open or conceal'd, alike 
 
 My voice dissuades ; for what can force or guile 
 
 "With Him, or who deceive his mind, whose eye 
 
 Views all things at one view \ He from Heaven's highth 
 
 All these our motions vain sees, and derides ; 
 
 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 1 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 200 
 
 That so ordains : This was at first resolv'd, 
 
 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, 
 
 The sentence of their Conquerour : This is now 
 
 Our doom ; which if we can sustain and bear, 
 
 Our Supreme Foe in time may much remit 210 
 
 His anger ; and perhaps, thus far remov'd, 
 
 Not mind us not offending, satisfied 
 
 With what is punish'd ; whence these raging fires 
 
 Will slacken, if his breath stir not their flames. 
 
 Our purer essence then will overcome 
 
 Their noxious vapour ; or, inur'd, not feel ; 
 
 Or, chang'd at length, and to the place conform'd 
 
 In temper and in nature, will receive
 
 36 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 
 
 Familiar the fierce heat, and void of pain ; 219 
 
 This horronr will grow mild, this darkness light ; 
 
 Besides what hope the never-ending flight 
 
 Of future days may bring, what chance, what change 
 
 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 disenthrone the King of Heaven 
 We war, if war be best, or to regain 2so 
 
 Our own riirht 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 
 Within Heaven's bound, unless Heaven's Lord Supreme 
 We overpower \ Suppose he should relent, 
 And publish grace to all, on promise made 
 Of new subjection ; with what eyes could we 
 Stand in his presence humble, and receive 240 
 
 {Strict laws impos'd, to celebrate his throne 
 With warbled hymns, and to his Godhead sing 
 Forced Halleluiahs ; while he lordly sits 
 Our envied Sovran, and his altar breathes 
 Ambrosial odours, and ambrosial flowers, 
 Our servile offerings 1 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 obtain'd 250 
 
 Unacceptable, though in Heaven, our state 
 Of splendid vassalage ; but rather seek
 
 BOOK II. 37 
 
 Our own good from ourselves, and from our own 253 
 
 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, 
 
 Useful of hurtful, prosperous of adverse, 
 
 We can create ; and in what place soe'er 260 
 
 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 Sire 
 
 Choose to reside, his glory unobscur'd, 
 
 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 
 
 Imitate when we please 1 This desart soil 270 
 
 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 1 
 
 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 \ 280 
 
 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 finish'd, when such murmur fill'd 
 The assembly, as when hollow rocks retain 
 The sound of blustering winds, which all night long 
 
 f L 4-3 7 
 
 r
 
 38 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Had rous'd the sea, now with hoarse cadence lull 2sr 
 Seafaring men o'er-watch'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 pleas'd, 
 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 perceiv'd, than whom, 
 Satan except, none higher sat, with grave 30 ° 
 
 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 noontide air, while thus he spake. 
 ^Thrones and Imperial Powers, Offspring of Heaven, 
 Ethereal Virtues ! or these titles now 311 
 
 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 hath doom'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,
 
 BOOK II. 39 
 
 In strictest bondage, though thus far remov'd 321 
 
 Under the inevitable curb, reserv'd 
 
 His captive multitude : For He, be sure, 
 
 In highth 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 scepter rule 
 
 Us here, as with his golden those in Heaven. 
 
 What sit we then projecting peace and war ? 
 
 War hath determin'd us, and foil'd with loss 330 
 
 Irreparable ; terms of peace yet none 
 
 Vouchsaf'd or sought ; for what peace will be given 
 
 To us enslav'd, but custody severe, 
 
 And stripes, and arbitrary punishment 
 
 Inflicted % and what peace can we return, 
 
 But to our power hostility and hate, 
 
 Untam'd reluctance, and revenge though slow, 
 
 Yet ever plotting how the Conquerour least 
 
 May reap his conquest, and may least rejoice 
 
 In doing what we most in suffering feel % 3 40 
 
 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 % There is a place 
 
 (If ancient and prophetick fame in Heaven 
 
 Err not), another world, the happy seat 
 
 Of some new race called Man, about this time 
 
 To be created like to us, though less 
 
 In power and excellence, but favour'd more 35 ° 
 
 Of Him who rules above : so was his will 
 
 Pronounc'd among the gods, and by an oath, 
 
 That shook heaven's whole circumference, confirmed. 
 
 Thither let us bend all our thoughts, to learn
 
 40 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 What creatures there inhabit, of what mould, 355 
 
 Or substance, how endued, and what their power, 
 
 And where their 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 expos'd, 360 
 
 The utmost border of his kingdom, left 
 
 To their defence who hold it : Here perhaps 
 
 Some advantageous act may be 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 
 
 Abolish his own works. This would surpass 370 
 
 Common revenge, and interrupt his joy 
 
 In our confusion, and our joy upraise 
 
 In his disturbance ; when his darling sons, 
 
 HmTd headlong to partake with us, shall curso 
 
 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 devis'd 
 
 By Satan, and in part propos'd : For whence, 380 
 
 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 1 But their spite still serves 
 
 His glory to augment. The bold design 
 
 Pleas'd highly those infernal States, and joy
 
 BOOK II. 41 
 
 Sparkled in all their eyes ; with full assent 388 
 
 They vote : whereat his speech he thus renews. 
 
 Well have ye judg'd, well ended long debate, 
 Synod of gods ! and, like to what ye are, 
 Great things resolv'd, which, from the lowest deep, 
 Will once more lift us up, in spite of fate, 
 Nearer our ancient seat ; perhaps in view 
 Of those bright confines, whence, with neighbouring arms 
 And opportune excursion, we may chance 
 Reenter Heaven ; or else in some mild zone 
 Dwell, not unvisited of Heaven's fair light, 
 Secure ; and at the brightening orient beam 
 Purge off this gloom : the soft delicious air, 400 
 
 To heal the scar of these corrosive fires, 
 Shall breathe her balm. But first, whom shall we send 
 In search of this new world 1 whom shall we find # 
 Sufficient 1 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 aery flight, 
 Upborne with indefatigable wings, 
 Over the vast abrupt, ere he arrive 
 The happy isle \ What strength, what art, can then 4io 
 Suffice, or what evasion bear him safe 
 Through the strict senteries, and stations thick 
 Of Augels watching round 1 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, 420 
 
 Pondering the danger with deep thoughts ; and each
 
 42 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 In other's countenance read his own dismay, 422 
 
 Astonish'd : None, among the choice and prime 
 Of those Heaven-warring champions, could be found 
 So hardy, as to proffer, or accept 
 Alone, the dreadful voyage ; till at last 
 Satan, whom now transcendent glory rais'd 
 Above his fellows, with monarchal pride, 
 Conscious of highest worth, unmov'd thus spake : 
 
 ' Progeny of Heaven, empyreal Thrones ! 43 ° 
 
 With reason hath deep silence and demur 
 Seiz'd us, though unclismay'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, 
 Barr'd 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 ii0 
 
 Threatens him, plung'd 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 sovranty, adorn'd 
 With splendour, arm'd with power, if aught propos'd 
 And judg'd of public moment, in the shape 
 Of difficulty or danger, could deter 
 Me from attempting. Wherefore do I assume 450 
 
 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
 
 BOOK II. 43 
 
 High honour'd sits ? Go, therefore, mighty Powers, 456 
 
 Terrour of Heaven, though fallen ! 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 rne. Thus saying, rose 
 
 The Monarch, and prevented all reply ; 
 
 Prudent, lest, from his resolution rais'd, 
 
 Others among the chief might offer now 
 
 (Certain to be refus'd) what erst they fear'd : 470 
 
 And, so refus'd, might in opinion stand 
 
 His rivals ; winning cheap the high repute, 
 
 Which he through hazard huge must earn. But they 
 
 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 prais'd 4so 
 
 That for the general safety he despis'd 
 
 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 
 
 Ended, rejoicing in their matchless Chief : 
 
 As when from mountain-tops the dusky clouds 
 
 Ascending, while the north wind sleeps, o'erspread
 
 44 PAEADISE LOST. 
 
 Heaven's cheerful face, the louring element 49 ° 
 
 Scowls o'er the darken'd landskip 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 rings. 
 
 shame to men ! Devil with devil damn'd 
 
 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, 500 
 
 Among themselves, and levy cruel wars, 
 
 Wasting the earth, each other to destroy ; 
 
 As if (which might induce us to accord) 
 
 Man had not hellish foes enow besides, 
 
 That day and night, for his destruction wait. 
 
 The Stygian council thus dissolv'd ; 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 Empcrour, with pomp supreme, 510 
 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 : 
 Towards the four winds four speedy Cherubim 
 Put to their mouths the sounding alchemy, 1 
 By herald's voice cxplain'd ; the hollow abyss 
 Heard far and wide, and all the host of Hell 
 With deafening shout rcturn'd them loud acclaim. 520 
 Thence more at case their minds, and somewhat rais'd 
 By false presumptuous hope, the ranged Powers 
 
 1 ' Alchemy' means here any mixed metal.
 
 BOOK II. 45 
 
 Disband ; and wandering, each his several way 523 
 
 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 : 530 
 
 Part curb their fiery steeds, or shun the goal 
 
 With rapid wheels, or fronted brigads 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 aery knights, and couch their spears, 
 
 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 540 
 
 In whirlwind : Hell scarce holds the wild uproar. 
 
 As when Alcides, 1 from Oechalia 2 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 Oeta threw 
 
 Into the Euboic sea. Others more mild, 
 
 Retreated in a silent valley, sing 
 
 With notes angelical to many a harp 
 
 Their own heroick deeds and hapless fall 
 
 By doom of battle ; and complain that fate 550 
 
 Free virtue should enthrall to force or chance. 
 
 Their song was partial ; but the harmony 
 
 (What could it less, when Spirits immortal sing 1) 
 
 Suspended Hell, and took with ravishment 
 
 The thronging audience. In discourse more sweet, 
 
 1 ' Alcides : ' Hercules. — 2 ' Oechalia : ' a mount in Thessaly.
 
 \ 
 
 46 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 (For eloquence the soul, song charms the sense,) 556 
 (Others apart sat on a hill retir'd, 
 In thoughts more elevate, and reason'd high 
 Of providence, foreknowledge, will and fate ; 
 Fix'd fate, free-will, foreknowledge absolute ; 
 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 ; 
 \Yain 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, 570 
 
 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 Styx, the flood of deadly hate ; 
 Sad Acheron, of sorrow, black and deep ; 
 Cocytus, nam'd of lamentation loud 
 Heard on the rueful stream ; fierce Phlegethon, sso 
 
 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
 
 BOOK II. 47 
 
 Thaws not, but gathers heap, and ruin seems 590 
 
 Of ancient pile ; or else deep snow and ice, 
 
 A gulf profound as that Serbonian bog 1 
 
 Betwixt Damiata and Mount Casius old, 
 
 Where armies whole have sunk : The parching air 
 
 Burns frore, and cold performs the effect of fire. 
 
 Thither, by harpy-footed Furies hal'd, 
 
 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 600 
 
 Their soft ethereal warmth, and there to pine 
 
 Immoveable, 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 ; 
 
 But Fate withstands, and, to oppose the attempt, 610 
 
 Medusa with Gorgonian terrour 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 confus'd march forlorn, the adventurous bands, 
 
 With shuddering horrour 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, 620 
 
 Rocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens, and shades of death, 
 
 1 'Serbonian bog:' the Lake Serbonis in Egypt, surrounded by hills of loose 
 sand, which fall into it — in compass one thousand furlongs.
 
 48 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 A universe of death ; which God by curse 622 
 
 Created evil, for evil only good, 
 
 Where all life dies, death lives, and nature breeds, 
 
 Perverse, all monstrous, all prodigious things, 
 
 Abominable, inutterablc, and worse 
 
 Than fables yet have feign'd, or fear conceiv'd, 
 
 Gorgons, and Hydras, and Chimeras dire. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Adversary of God and man, 
 Satan, with thoughts inflam'd of highest design, 630 
 
 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 descried 
 Hangs in the clouds, by equinoctial winds 
 Close sailing from Bengala, or the isles 
 Of Ternate and Tidore, 1 whence merchants bring 
 Their spicy drugs ; they, on the trading flood 2 640 
 
 Through the wide Ethiopian to the Cape, 
 Ply stemming nightly towards the pole : So seem'd 
 Far off the flying Fiend. At last appear 
 Hell bounds, high reaching to the horrid roof, 
 And thrice threefold the gates ; three folds were brass, 
 Three iron, three of adamantine rock, 
 Impenetrable, impal'd with circling fire, 
 Yet unconsum'd. Before the gates there sat 
 On either side a formidable shape ; 
 The one seem'd woman to the waist, and fail* -, cso 
 
 But ended foul in many a scaly fold 
 Voluminous and vast ; a serpent arni'd 
 With mortal sting : About her middle round 
 
 1 'Ternate and Tidore :' two of the Molucca islands in the East Indian Sea.- 
 * ' Trading flood : ' flood propelled by the trade winds.
 
 BOOK II. 49 
 
 A cry of Hell-hounds never-ceasing bark'd, 654 
 
 With wide Cerberean mouths, full loud, and rung 
 
 A hideous peal ; yet when they list would creep, 
 
 If aught disturbed their noise, into her womb 
 
 And kennel there ; yet there still bark'd, and howl'd 
 
 "Within unseen. Far less abhorr'd than these 
 
 Vex'd Scylla, 1 bathing in the sea that parts 660 
 
 Calabria from the hoarse Trinacrian 2 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 called that shadow seem'd, 
 
 For each seem'd either ; black it stood as Night, 670 
 
 Fierce as ten Furies, terrible as Hell, 
 
 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 admir'd, 
 
 Admir'd, not fear'd ; God and his Son except, 
 
 Created thing not valued he, nor shunn'd ; 
 
 And, with disdainful look, thus first began. 680 
 
 1 Whence, and what art thou, execrable shape! 
 That dar'st, though grim and terrible, advance 
 Thy miscreated front athwart my way 
 To yonder gates % through them I mean to pass, 
 That be assured, without leave ask'd of thee : 
 
 1 ' Scylla:' See Ovid's Metamorphoses, 14th Book— 2 ' Trinacrian:' Sicilian. 
 
 D
 
 
 50 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Retire, or taste thy folly ; and learn by proof, gsq 
 
 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 then 
 Unbroken ; and in proud, rebellious arms, 
 Drew after him the third part of Heaven's sons 
 Conjur'd against the Highest ; for which both thou 
 And they, outcast from God, are here condemn'd 
 To waste eternal days in woe and pain 1 
 And reckon'st thou thyself with Spirits of Heaven, 
 Hell-dooni'd ! and breath'st 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, 7oo 
 
 Lest with a whip of scorpions I pursue 
 Thy lingering, or with one stroke of this dart 
 Strange horrour seize thee, and pangs unfelt before. 
 
 So spake the grizly Terrour, and in shape, 
 So speaking and so threatening, grew tenfold 
 More dreadful and deform. On the other side, 
 Incens'd with indignation, Satan stood 
 Unterrified, and like a comet burn'd, 
 That fires the length of Ophiuchus 1 huge 
 In the arctic sky, and from his horrid hair 7io 
 
 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 : 
 
 1 ' Ophiuchus : ' or Scrpcntarius, a constellation extending over forty degrees.
 
 BOOK II. 51 
 
 So frown'd the mighty combatants, that Hell 719 
 
 Grew darker at their frown ; so match'd they stood ; 
 For never but once more 1 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. 
 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 ; 730 
 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 ; 
 His wrath, which one day will destroy ye both. 
 She spake, and at her words the hellish Pest 
 Forbore ; then these to her Satan return'd : 
 
 teo 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, 740 
 
 What thing thou art, thus double-form'd ; and why, 
 In this infernal vale first met, thou call'st 
 Me Father, and that phantasm call'st 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 forgotten 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 
 
 1 ' But once more : ' referring to the Messiah, who is to destroy ' Death and 
 him that hath the power of Death.'
 
 52 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 In bold conspiracy against Heaven's King, 751 
 
 All on a sudden miserable pain 
 
 Surpris'd thee, dim thine eyes and dizzy swum 
 
 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 sprung : Amazement seiz'd 
 
 All the host of Heaven ; back they recoil'd, afraid 
 
 At first, and call'd me Sin, and for a sign 760 
 
 Portentous held me ; but, familiar grown, 
 
 I pleas'd and with attractive graces won 
 
 The most averse, thee chiefly, who full oft 
 
 Thyself in me thy perfect image viewing, 
 
 Becam'st enamour'd, and such joy thou took'st 
 
 With me in secret, that my womb conceived 
 
 A growing burden. Meanwhile, war arose, 
 
 And fields were fought in Heaven ; wherein remain'd 
 
 (For what could else?) to our Almighty Foe 
 
 Clear victory ; to our part loss and rout, 770 
 
 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. 780 
 
 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
 
 BOOK II. 53 
 
 Transform'd : But he my inbred enemy 785 
 
 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 790 
 
 Inflam'd "with lust than rage,) and, swifter far, 
 
 Me overtook his mother all disniay'd, 
 
 And, in embraces forcible and foul, 
 
 Ingendering with me, of that rape begot 
 
 These yelling monsters, that, with ceaseless cry, 
 
 Surround me, as thou saw'st ; hourly conceiv'd, 
 
 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 soo 
 
 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, 
 
 Whenever that shall be ; so Fate pronounced. 
 
 But thou, Father ! I forewarn thee, shun sio 
 
 His deadly arrow ; neither vainly hope 
 
 To be invulnerable in those bright arms, 
 
 Though temper'd heavenly ; for that mortal dint, 
 
 Save He who reigns above, none can resist. 
 
 She finished ; and the subtle Fiend his lore 
 Soon learn'd, now milder, and thus answer'd smooth. 
 Dear Daughter ! since thou claim'st me for thy sire, 
 And my fair son here show'st me, the dear pledge
 
 54 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Of dalliance had with thee in Heaven, and joys 819 
 
 Then sweet, now sad to mention, through dire change 
 
 Befallen us, unforeseen, unthought of ; know, 
 
 I come no enemy, but to set free 
 
 From out this dark and dismal house of pain 
 
 Both him and thee, and all the heavenly host 
 
 Of Spirits, that, in our just pretences arru'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 
 
 The unfounded deep, and through the void immense 
 
 To search with waud'ring quest a place foretold 830 
 
 Should be, and, by concurring signs, ere now 
 
 Created, vast and round, a place of bliss 
 
 In the pourlieus 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 aught 
 
 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 840 
 
 Shall dwell at ease, and up and down unseen 
 
 Wing silently the buxom 1 air imbalm'd 
 
 "With odours ; there ye shall be fed and fill'd 
 
 Immeasurably, all things shall be your prey. 
 
 He ceased, for both seeni'd highly pleased ; and Death 
 
 Grinu'd horrible a ghastly smile, to hear 
 
 His famine should be fill'd ; and blest his maw 
 
 Destined to that good hour : No less rejoiced 
 
 His mother bad ; and thus bespake her sire. 
 
 The key of this infernal pit by due, 850 
 
 And by command of Heaven's all-powerful King, 
 
 1 ' Buxom : ' yielding.
 
 BOOK II. 55 
 
 I keep ; by him forbidden to unlock 852 
 
 These adamantine gates ; against all force 
 
 Death ready stands to interpose his dart, 
 
 Fearless to be o'ermatch'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 confin'd, 
 
 Inhabitant of Heaven, aDd heavenly born, 860 
 
 Here, in perpetual agony and pain, 
 
 With terrours and with clamours compass'd round 
 
 Of mine own brood, that on my bowels feed 1 
 
 Thou art my father, thou my author, thou 
 
 My being gav'st 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. 870 
 
 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 key-hole 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, 880 
 
 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,
 
 56 PAEADISE LOST. 
 
 Under spread ensigns marching, might pass through 886 
 
 "With horse and chariots rank'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, 
 
 Without dimension ; where length, breadth, and highth, 
 
 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 900 
 
 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 Cyrene's 1 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, 91 o 
 
 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 
 
 Confus'dly, and which thus must ever fight, 
 
 Unless the Almighty Maker them ordain 
 
 His dark materials to create more worlds ; 
 
 Into this wild abyss the wary Fiend 
 
 Stood on the brink of Hell, and look'd a while, 
 
 1 ' Barca aud Cyrene : ' regions of Africa.
 
 BOOK II. 57 
 
 Pondering his voyage ; for no narrow frith 919 
 
 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 1 storms, 
 
 With all her battering engines bent to rase 
 
 Some capital 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 930 
 
 Audacious ; but, that seat soon failing, meets 
 
 A vast vacuity : All unawares, 
 
 Fluttering his pennons vain, plump 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 staid, 
 
 Quench'd in a boggy Syrtis, 2 neither sea 
 
 Nor good dry land : Nigh founder'd on he fares, 940 
 
 Treacling the crude consistence, half on foot, 
 
 Half flying ; behoves him now both oar and sail. 
 
 As when a gryphon, 3 through the wilderness 
 
 With winged course, o'er hill or moory dale, 
 
 Pursues the Arimaspian, 4 who by stealth 
 
 Had from his wakeful custody purloin'd 
 
 The guarded gold : So eagerly the Fieud 
 
 O'er bog, or steep, through strait, rough, dense, or rare, 
 
 With head, hands, wings, or feet, pursues his way, 
 
 1 ' Bellona : ' the war goddess. — 2 ' Syrtis : ' a bog. — 3 ' Gryphon : ' a fabulous 
 creature ; upper part like an eagle, lower part like a lion ; said to guard gold 
 mines. — 4 ' Arimaspian : ' a people of Scythia, said to be one-eyed, and fond of 
 gold.
 
 58 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 And swims, or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flies : 950 
 
 At length, a universal hubbub wild 
 
 Of stunning sounds, and voices all confus'd, 
 
 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 throne 
 
 Of Chaos, and his dark pavilion spread 96§ 
 
 Wide on the wasteful deep ; with him enthroned 
 
 Sat sable-vested Night, eldest of things, 
 
 The consort of his reign ; and by him stood 
 
 Orcus and Ades, and the dreaded Name 
 
 Of Demogorgon -, 1 Rumour next and Chance, 
 
 And Tumult and Confusion all embroil'd, 
 
 And Discord with a thousand various mouths. 
 
 To whom Satan, turning boldly, thus : Ye Powers 
 And Spirits of this nethermost abyss, 
 Chaos and ancient Night ! I come no spy, 87© 
 
 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 
 What readiest path leads where your gloomy bounds 
 Confine with Heaven ; or, if some other place, 
 From your dominion won, the ethereal King 
 Possesses lately, thither to arrive 
 I travel this profound ; direct my course ; 98 ° 
 
 Directed, no mean rccompence it brings 
 To your behoof, if I that region lost, 
 
 1 ' Demogorgon : ' the mystic name of an enchanter.
 
 BOOK II. 59 
 
 All usurpation thence expell'd, reduce 983 
 
 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 ; 9 90 
 That mighty leading Angel, who of late 
 Made head against Heaven's King, though overthrown. 
 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, 1000 
 
 Encroach'd on still through your intestine broils, 
 Weakening the scepter 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 ! 
 Havoc, and spoil, and ruin, are my gain. 
 
 He ceas'd ; and Satan staid not to reply, 1010 
 
 But, glad that now his sea should find a shore, 
 With fresh alacrity, and force renew'd, 
 Springs upward, 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,
 
 60 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 And more endanger'd, than when Argo 1 pass'd 1017 
 
 Through Bosporus 2 betwixt the justling rocks : 
 
 Or when Ulysses on the larboard shunn'd 
 
 Charjbdis, and by the other whirlpool 3 steer'd. 
 
 So he with difficulty aud labour hard 
 
 Mov'd 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, 
 
 Pav'd after him a broad and beaten way 
 
 Over the dark abyss, whose boiling gulf 
 
 Tamely endured a bridge of wonderous length, 
 
 From Hell continued, reaching the utmost orb 
 
 Of this frail world ; by which the Spirits perverse, 1030 
 
 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 farthest verge, and Chaos to retire 
 
 As from her outmost works, a broken foe 
 
 With tumult less, and with less hostile din ; 1040 
 
 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 
 
 1 ' Argo : ' the first long 6hip ever seen in Greece, which conveyed Jason in 
 search of the Golden Fleece. — * ' Bosporus : ' the Straits of Constantinople. — 
 ' ' The other whirlpool : ' Scylla.
 
 BOOK II. 61 
 
 In circuit, undetermined square or round, 1048 
 
 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, 1 in bigness as a star 
 Of smallest magnitude close by the moon. 
 Thither, full fraught with mischievous revenge, 
 Accurs'd, and in a cursed hour, he hies. 1055 
 
 1 ' Pendent world : ' not the earth, but the newly-created heavens and earth.
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 God, sitting on his throne, sees Satan flying towards this world, then newly- 
 created ; shows him to the Son, who sat at his right hand ; foretells the suc- 
 cess of Satan in perverting mankind ; clears his own justice and wisdom 
 from all imputation, having created man free and able enough to have 
 withstood his tempter ; yet declares his purpose of grace towards him, in 
 regard he 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 
 tfe extended towards man without the satisfaction of divine justice : man 
 hath offended the majesty of God by aspiring 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 ; commands all the angels to adore him : they obey, and 
 hymning to their harps in fidl choir, 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, described 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 pretending 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. 
 
 Hail, holy Light, offspring of Heaven first born, 
 
 Or of the Eternal co-eternal beam 
 
 May I express thee unblani'd ? since God is light, 
 
 And never but in unapproaclicd light 
 
 Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then in thee, 5 
 
 Bright effluence of bright essence increate. 
 
 Or hear'st thou 1 rather pure ethereal stream, 
 
 1 k Bear'st thou :' i. e., art pleased rather to be called.
 
 BOOK III. 63 
 
 Whose fountain who shall tell % Before the sun, 8 
 
 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 re-visit 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 reasccnd, 20 
 
 Though hard and rare : Thee I revisit safe, 
 
 And feel thy sovran 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 1 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 2 beneath, so 
 
 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, 3 and blind Mseonides, 4 
 
 And Tiresias, and Phineus, 5 prophets old : 
 
 Then feed on thoughts, that voluntary move 
 
 1 ' Drop serene : ' Gutta Serena — 2 ' The flowery brooks : ' Siloali and Kedron. 
 — s ' Thamyris : ' a Thracian poet — 4 ' Mseonides : ' Homer, son of Maaon. — 
 5 ' Tiresias and Phineus : ' one a Thebar., the other King of Arcadia — both blind 
 poets and prophets.
 
 64 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Harmonious numbers ; as the wakeful bird 38 
 
 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 
 
 Cut off, and, for the book of knowledge fair 
 
 Presented with a universal blank 
 
 Of nature's works to me expung'd and ras'd, 
 
 And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out. 50 
 
 So much the rather thou, celestial Light, 
 
 Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers 
 
 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 thron'd above all highth, bent down his eye, 
 His own works, and their works, at once to view : 
 About him all the Sanctities of Heaven 60 
 
 Stood thick as stars, and from his sight receiv'd 
 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 plac'd, 
 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 70 
 
 Coasting the wall of Heaven on this side Night,
 
 BOOK III. 65 
 
 In the dun air sublime, and ready now 72 
 
 To stoop with wearied wings, and willing feet 
 On the bare outside of this world, that seem'd 
 Firm land imbosom'd, 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 so 
 
 Transports our Adversary 2 whom no bounds 
 Prescribed, no bars of Hell, nor all the chains 
 Heap'd on him there, nor yet the main abyss 
 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 assay 90 
 
 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 loo 
 
 And Spirits, both them who stood, and them who fail'd ; 
 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, 
 
 E
 
 66 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Not what they would 1 What praise could they receive 1 
 What pleasure I from such obedience paid, 107 
 
 When will and reason (reason also is choice) 
 ^ Useless and vain, of freedom both despoil' d, 
 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 overrul'd 
 Their will dispos'd by absolute decree 
 Or high foreknowledge ; they themselves decreed 
 Their own revolt, not 1 : 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, 120 
 
 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 enthrall themselves ; I else must change 
 Their nature, and revoke the high decree 
 Unchangeable, eternal, which ordain'd 
 Their freedom ; they themselves ordain'd their fall. 
 The first sort by their own suggestion fell, 
 Self-tempted, self-deprav'd : Man falls, deceived iso 
 By the other first : Man therefore shall find grace, 
 The other none : In mercy and justice both, 
 Through Heaven and Earth, so shall my glory excel ; 
 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 diifus'd. 
 Beyond compare the Son of God was seen 
 Most glorious : in him all his Father shone
 
 BOOK III. 67 
 
 Substantially express'd ; and in Lis face no 
 
 Divine compassion visibly appear'd, 
 Love without end, and without measure grace, 
 Which uttering, thus he to his Father spake. 
 
 Father ! gracious was that word which clos'd 
 Thy sovran sentence, that Man should find grace ; 
 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 blest. 
 For should Man finally be lost, should Man, I50 
 
 Thy creature late so lov'd, thy youngest son, 
 Fall circumvented thus by fraud, though join'd 
 "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 accomplish'd, and to Hell i 60 
 
 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 question'd and blasphem'd 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, no 
 
 All hast thou spoken as my thoughts are, all 
 As my eternal purpose hath decreed ; 
 Man shall not quite be lost, but sav'd who will ;
 
 68 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Yet not of will in him, but grace in me 174 
 
 Freely vouchsafe! ; once more I will renew 
 
 His lapsed powers, though forfeit, and enthrall'd 
 
 By sin to foul exorbitant desires ; 
 
 Upheld by me, yet once more he shall stand 
 
 On even ground against his mortal foe ; 
 
 By inc upheld, that he may know how frail iso 
 
 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. 190 
 
 To prayer, repentance, and obedience due, 
 
 Though but endeavour'd with sincere intent, 
 
 Mine ear shall not be slow, mine eye not shut. 
 
 And I will place within them as a guide, 
 
 My umpire Conscience ; whom if they will hear, 
 
 Light after light, well us'd, 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 hardened, blind be blinded more, 200 
 
 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,
 
 BOOK III. 69 
 
 But, to destruction sacred and devote, 203 
 
 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 love ? 
 
 Which of ye will be mortal, to redeem 
 
 Man's mortal crime, and just the unjust to save 1 
 
 Dwells in all Heaven charity so dear ? 
 
 He ask'd, but all the heavenly choir stood mute, 
 And silence was in Heaven : On Man's behalf 
 Patron or intercessour none appear'd, 
 Much less that durst upon his own head draw 220 
 
 The deadly forfeiture, and ransom set. 
 And now without redemption all mankind 
 Must have been lost, adjudg'd 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 past, 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 230 
 
 Comes unprevented, unimplor'd, 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 fallj^ 
 Account me Man ; I for his sake will leave 
 Thy bosom, and this glory next to thee 
 Freely put off, and for him lastly die 
 Well pleas'd ; on me let Death wreak all his rage ;
 
 70 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Under his gloomy power I shall not long 242 
 
 Lie vanqnish'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 250 
 
 My vanquisher, spoil'd of his vaunted spoil ; 
 
 Death his death's wound shall then receive, and stoop 
 
 Inglorious, of his mortal sting disarm'd. 
 
 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 
 
 Pleas'd, out of Heaven shalt look down, and smile, 
 
 While, by thee rais'd, I ruin all my foes, 
 
 Death last, and with his carcase glut the grave : 
 
 Then, with the multitude of my redeem'd, 260 
 
 Shall enter Heaven, long absent, and return, 
 
 Father, to see thy face, wherein no cloud 
 
 Of anger shall remain, but peace assur'd 
 
 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 breath'd immortal love 
 To mortal men, above which only shone 
 Filial obedience : As a sacrifice 
 
 Glad to be offer'd, he attends the will 270 
 
 Of his great Father. Admiration seiz'd 
 All Heaven, what this might mean, and whither tend, 
 Wondering ; but soon the Almighty thus replied. 
 
 thou, in Heaven and Earth the only peace 
 Found out for mankind under wrath ! thou,
 
 BOOK III. 71 
 
 My sole complacence ! well thou know'st how dear 270 
 
 To ine 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 awhile, 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 wonderous 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 restor'd 
 
 As many as are restor'd, without thee none. 
 
 His crime makes guilty all his sons ; thy merit, 290 
 
 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 judg'd 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 300 
 
 So easily destroy'd, 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 thron'd in highest bliss 
 
 Equal to God, and equally enjoying 
 
 God-like fruition, quitted all, to save 
 
 A world from utter loss, and hast been found, 
 
 By merit more than birthright, Son of God,
 
 72 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Found worthiest to be so, by being good, 310 
 
 Far more than great or high ; because in thee 
 
 Lore hath abounded more than glory abounds ; 
 
 Therefore thy humiliation shall exalt 
 
 "With thee thy manhood also to his throne : 
 
 Here shalt thou sit incarnate, here shalt reifirn 
 
 Both God and Man, Son both of God and Man, 
 
 Anointed universal King ; all power 
 
 I give thee ; reign for ever, and assume 
 
 Thy merits ; under thee, as head supreme, 
 
 Thrones, Princedoms, Powers, Dominions, I reduce : 320 
 
 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 330 
 
 Bad men and Angels ; they, arraign'd, shall sink 
 
 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 dwell, 
 
 And, after all their tribulations lone;, 
 
 See golden days, fruitful of golden deeds, 
 
 With joy and love triumphing, and fair truth. 
 
 Then thou thy regal scepter shalt lay by, 
 
 For regal scepter then no more shalt need, 340 
 
 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.
 
 BOOK III. 73 
 
 No sooner had the Almighty ceas'd, but all 344 
 
 The multitude of Angels, with a shout 
 Loud as from numbers without number, sweet 
 As from blest voices, uttering joy, Heaven rung 
 With jubilee, and loud Hosannas filled 
 The eternal regions : Lowly reverent 
 Towards either throne they bow, and to the ground, 350 
 With solemn adoration down they cast 
 Their crowns inwove with amarant and gold ; 
 Immortal amarant, 1 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 grows, 
 And flowers aloft shading the fount of life, 
 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 36 
 
 Bind their resplendent locks, inwreath'd with beams ; 
 Now in loose garlands thick thrown off, the bright 
 Pavement, that like a sea of jasper shone, 
 Impurpled with celestial roses smil'd. 
 Then crown'd again, their golden harps they took, 
 Harps ever tun'd, 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 37 
 
 Melodious part, such concord is in Heaven. 
 
 Thee, Father, first they sung, Omnipotent, 
 Immutable, Immortal, Infinite, 
 Eternal King ; the Author of all being, 
 Fountain of light, thyself invisible 
 
 1 ' Amaraut,' ' incorruptible : ' a flower of a purple colour, which never 
 withers.
 
 74 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Amidst the glorious brightness where thou sitt'st 376 
 
 Thron'd inaccessible, but when thou shad'st 
 
 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. 
 
 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 behold ; on thee 
 
 Impress'd the effulgence of his glory abides, 
 
 Transfused on thee his ample Spirit rests. 
 
 lie Heaven of Heavens, and all the Powers therein 390 
 
 By thee created ; and by thee threw down 
 
 The aspiring Dominations ; Thou that day 
 
 Thy Father's dreadful thunder didst not spare, 
 
 Nor stop thy flaming chariot-wheels, that shook 
 
 Heaven's everlasting frame, while o'er the necks 
 
 Thou drov'st of warring Angels disarray 'd. 
 
 Back from pursuit thy Powers with loud acclaim 
 
 Thee only extoll'd, Son of thy Father's might, 
 
 To execute fierce vengeance on his foes, 
 
 Not so on Man : Him through their malice fallen, 400 
 
 Father of mercy and grace, thou didst not doom 
 
 So strictly, 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 disccrn'd, 
 
 Regardless of the bliss wherein he sat 
 
 Second to thee, offer'd himself to die
 
 BOOK III. 75 
 
 For Man's offence. unexampled love, 410 
 
 Love nowhere 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 opaceous globe 
 Of this round world, whose first convex divides 
 The luminous inferior orbs, enclosed 420 
 
 From Chaos, and the inroad of Darkness old, 
 Satan alighted walks : A globe far off 
 It seem'd, now seems a boundless continent 
 Dark, waste, and wild, under the frown of Night 
 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. 430 
 As when a vulture on Iinaus 1 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 towards the springs 
 Of Ganges or Hydaspes, Indian streams ; 
 But in his way lights on the barren plains 
 Of Sericana, 2 where Chineses drive 
 With sails and wind their cany waggons light : 
 So, on this windy sea of land, the Fiend 4i0 
 
 Walk'd up and down alone, bent on his prey ; 
 
 1 'Imaus:' a mountain in Asia.— 2 ' Sericana:' a level plain between China 
 and Imaus.
 
 76 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Alone, for other creature in this place, 442 
 
 Living or lifeless, to be found was none ; 
 
 None jet, but store hereafter from the earth 
 
 Up hither, like aereal vapours flew 
 
 Of all things transitory and vain, when sin 
 
 AVith vanity had fill'd the works of men : 
 
 Both all things vain, and all who in vain things 
 
 Built their fond hopes of glory or lasting fame, 
 
 Or happiness in this or the other life ; 450 
 
 All who have their reward on earth, the fruits 
 
 Of painful superstition and blind zeal, 
 
 Nought seeking but the praise of men, here find 
 
 Pit retribution, empty as their deeds ; 
 
 All the unaccomplish'd works of Nature's hand, 
 
 Abortive, monstrous, or unkindly mix'd, 
 
 Dissolved on earth, fleet hither, and in vain, 
 
 Till final dissolution, wander here ; 
 
 Not in the neighbouring moon, as some have dream'd ; 
 
 Those argent fields more likely habitants, 460 
 
 Translated Saints, or middle Spirits hold, 
 
 Betwixt the angelical and human kind. 
 
 Hither of ill-joined 1 sons and daughters born 
 
 First from the ancient world those giants came 
 
 AVith many a vain exploit, though then renown'd : 
 
 The builders next of Babel on the plain 
 
 Of Sennaar, 2 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 ^Etna's flames, 470 
 
 Kmpedoclcs ; 3 and lie who, to enjoy 
 
 Plato's Elysium, leap'd into the sea, 
 
 1 ' Ill-joined,' &e. : alluding In the sons of God wedding the daughters of 
 men. Sec Gen. vi. 4. — '-' ' Sennaar:' Sliinar. — * ' Empedocles :' who, to be 
 deemed a god, threw himself unseen into Etna; but whose brazen slij pers, cast 
 out, betrayed the secret.
 
 BOOK III. 77 
 
 Cleombrotus ; 2 and many more too long, 473 
 
 Embryos and idiots, eremites and friars, 
 
 White, black, and grey, 2 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 Dominick, 
 
 Or in Franciscan think to pass disguis'd ; 48a 
 
 They pass the planets seven, and pass the fix'd, 
 
 And that crystalline 3 sphere whose balance weighs 
 
 The trepidation talk'd, and that first mov'd ; 4 
 
 And now Saint Peter at Heaven's wicket seems 
 
 To wait them with his keys, and now at foot 
 
 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, Tossed 490 
 
 And flutter'd into rags ; then relics, beads, 
 
 Indulgences, dispenses, pardons, bulls, 
 
 The sport of winds : All these, upwhirl'd aloft, 
 
 Fly o'er the backside 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 pass'd, 
 
 And long he wander'd, till at last a gleam 
 
 Of dawning light turn'd thitherward in haste soo 
 
 His travell'd steps : far distant he descries 
 
 Ascending by degrees magnificent 
 
 1 ' Cleombrotus :' a youth of Epirus, who, having read Plato on the Immor- 
 tality of the Soul, threw himself into the sea. — 2 ' White, black, and grey : ' 
 Carmelites, Dominicans, and Franciscans.— 3 'The Crystalline:' or Tremulous 
 Sphere. — 4 ' First moved : ' the Primum Mobile.
 
 78 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Up to tlie wall of Heaven a structure high ; 503 
 
 At top whereof, but far more rich, appeared 
 
 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 510 
 
 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. 
 
 Each stair mysteriously was meant, nor stood 
 
 There always, but drawn up to Heaven sometimes 
 
 Viewless ; and underneath a bright sea flow'd 
 
 Of jasper, or of liquid pearl, whereon 
 
 Who after came from earth, sailing arriv'd 520 
 
 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 exclusion from the doors of bliss : 
 
 Direct against which opcn'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, 530 
 
 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, 1 the fount of Jordan's flood, 
 
 1 ' Paneas :' a city at the foot of Lebanon.
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 79 
 
 To Beersaba, where the Holy Land 536 
 
 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 
 
 The goodly prospect of some foreign land 
 
 First seen, or some renown'd metropolis 
 
 With glistering spires and pinnacles adorn'd, sso 
 
 Which now the rising sun gilds with his beams : 
 
 Such wonder seiz'd, though after Heaven seen, 
 
 The Spirit malign, but much more envy seiz'd, 
 
 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 1 to the fleecy star that bears 
 
 Andromeda far off Atlantic seas 
 
 Beyond the horizon ; then from pole to pole 560 
 
 He views in breadth, and, without longer pause 
 
 Downright 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 fam'd of old, 
 
 1 ' Libra : ' the Balance.
 
 80 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Fortunate fields, and groves, and flow'ry vales, 5C9 
 
 Thrice happy isles ; but who dwelt happy there 
 
 He stay'd not to enquire : Above thein all 
 
 The golden sun, in splendour likest Heaven, 
 
 Allur'd 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, 
 
 Dispenses light from far ; they, as they move 
 
 Their starry dance in numbers that compute 53 o 
 
 Days, months, and years, towards his all-cheering lamp 
 
 Turn swift their various motions, or are turn'd 
 
 By his magnetick beam, that gently warms 
 
 The universe, and to each inward part 
 
 With gentle penetration, though unseen, 
 
 Shoots invisible virtue even to the deep ; 
 
 So wonderously 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. 590 
 
 The place he found beyond expression bright, 
 
 Compar'd 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 coo 
 
 Philosophers in vain so long have sought, 
 
 In vain, though by their powerful art they bind
 
 BOOK III. 81 
 
 Volatile Hermes, 1 and call up unbound, 603 
 
 In various shapes old Proteus from the sea, 
 
 Drain'd through a limbeck 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-chemick sun, so far from us remote, 
 
 Produces, with terrestrial humour mix'd, 610 
 
 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 620 
 
 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 employ 'd 
 
 He seem'd, or fixed in cogitation deep. 
 
 Glad was the Spirit impure, as now in hope 630 
 
 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, 
 
 1 ' Hermes,' ' Proteus:' alluding to the pursuit and escape of Matter through 
 its thousand forms, in the researches of Alchemy. 
 
 P
 
 82 PAEADISE LOST. 
 
 Which else might work him clanger or delay ; 635 
 
 And now a stripling Cherub he appears, 
 
 Not of the prime, yet such as in his face 
 
 Youth smil'd celestial, and to every limb 
 
 Suitable grace diffus'd, so well he feign'd : 
 
 Under a coronet his flowing hair 64 ° 
 
 In curls on either cheek play'd ; wings he wore, 
 
 Of many a colour'd 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, 1 one of the seven 
 
 "Who in God's presence, nearest to his throne, 
 
 Stand ready at command, and are his eyes 650 
 
 That run through all the Heavens, or down to the Earth 
 
 Bear his swift errands over moist and dry, 
 
 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 authentick 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 G60 
 
 To visit oft this new creation round; 
 Unspeakable desire to see and know 
 All these his wonderous works, but chiefly Man, 
 His chief delight and favour, him for whom 
 All these his works so wonderous he ordain'd, 
 Hath brought me from the choirs of Cherubim 
 Alone thus wandering. Brightest Seraph, tell 
 
 1 Uriel : ' the Angel of Light.
 
 BOOK III. 83 
 
 In which of all these shining orbs hath Man 668 
 
 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 
 
 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. 680 
 
 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 beguil'd 
 Uriel, though regent of the sun, and held 690 
 
 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 Workmaster, 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, 700 
 
 Contented with report hear only in Heaven :
 
 84 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 For wonderful indeed are all bis works, 702 
 
 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 710 
 
 Stood rul'd, stood vast infinitude confin'd ; 
 
 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 ethereal quintessence of Heaven 
 
 Flew upward, spirited with various forms, 
 
 That rolled orbicular, and turn'd to stars 
 
 Numberless, as thou seest, and how they move ; 
 
 Each had his place appointed, each his course ; 720 
 
 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 moon 
 
 (So call that opposite fair star) her aid 
 
 Timely interposes, and her monthly round 
 
 Still ending, still renewing, through mid Heaven, 
 
 With borrow'd light her countenance triform 730 
 
 Hence fills and empties to enlighten the Earth, 
 
 And in her pale dominion checks the night. 
 
 That spot, to which I point, is Paradise, 
 
 Adam's abode ; those lofty shades, his bower. 
 
 Thy way thou canst not miss, me mine requires.
 
 BOOK III. 85 
 
 Thus said, he turn'd ; and Satan, bowing low, 736 
 As to superiour Spirits is wont in Heaven, 
 Where honour due and reverence none neglects, 
 Took leave, and toward the coast of earth beneath, 
 Down from the ecliptick, sped with hop'd success, 
 Throws his steep flight in many an aery wheel, 
 Nor staid, till on Niphates' 1 top he lights. 
 
 1 ' Niphates : ' a mount in Assyria near the supposed seat of Paradise.
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Satan, now in prospect ot Eden, and nigh the place where he must now attempt 
 the bold enterprise whicli lie 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 is described ; overleaps the bounds ; 
 sits in the shape of a cormorant on the tree of life, as 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 temptation, by seducing them to 
 transgress; then leaves them a while to know further of their state by 
 some other means. Meanwhile Uriel, descending on a sunbeam, warns 
 Gabriel, who had in charge the gate of Faradise, 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 by his furious gestures in the 
 mount. Gabriel promises to find him ere morning. Night coming on, 
 Adam and Eve discourse of going to their rest ; their bower described ; 
 their evening worship. Gabriel, drawing forth his bauds of night-watch 
 to walk the round 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 him at the ear of Eve tempting her in a 
 dream, and bring him, though unwilling, to Gabriel ; by whom questioned, 
 he scornfully answers ; prepares resistance, but, hindered by a sign from 
 heaven, flies out of Paradise. 
 
 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, 5 
 
 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 inilam'd with rage, came down,
 
 BOOK IV. 87 
 
 The tempter ere the accuser of mankind, 10 
 
 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; horrour and doubt distract 
 His troubled thoughts, and from the bottom stir 
 The Hell within him ; for within him Hell 20 
 
 He brings, and round about him, nor from Hell 
 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 griev'd look he fixed sad ; 
 Sometimes towards Heaven, and the full-blazing sun 
 Which now sat high in his meridian tower : .30 
 
 Then, much revolving, thus in sighs began. — 
 vtl thou that, with surpassing glory crown'd, 
 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 down 40 
 
 Warring in Heaven against Heaven's matchless King : 
 Ah ! wherefore % he deserved no such return 
 From me, whom he created what I was
 
 
 88 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 In that bright eminence, and with his good u 
 
 Upbraided none ; nor was his service hardj 
 
 What could be less than to afford him praise, 
 
 The easiest recompence, and pay him thanks, 
 
 How due ! yet all his good prov'd ill in me, 
 
 And wrought but malice ; lifted up so high 
 
 I sdeincd subjection, and thought one step higher 50 
 
 Would set me highest, and in a moment quit 
 
 The debt immense of endless gratitude, 
 
 So burdensome still paying, still to owe, 
 
 Forgetful what from him I still receiv'd, 
 
 And understood not that a grateful mind 
 
 By owing owes not, but still pays, at once 
 
 Indebted and discharged ; what burden then % ^y 
 
 had his powerful destiny ordain'd 
 
 Me some inferiour Angel, I had stood 
 
 Then happy ; no unbounded hope had raised 6° 
 
 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. 
 
 Hadst thou the same free will and power to stand % 
 
 Thou hadst : whom hast thou, then, or what to accuse, 
 
 Rut Heaven's free love dealt equally to all ? 
 
 Be then his love accurs'd, since love or hate, 
 
 To me alike, it deals eternal woe. *o 
 
 Nay, curs'd 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'? 
 
 Which way I fly is Hell ; myself am Hell ; 
 
 And in the lowest deep, a lower deep 
 
 Still threatening to devour me opens wide,
 
 BOOK IV. 89 
 
 To which the Hell I suffer seems a Heaven. 78 
 
 then at last relent : Is there no place 
 
 Left for repentance, none for pardon left % 
 
 None left but by submission ; and that word 
 
 Disdain forbids me, and my dread of shame 
 
 Among the Spirits beneath, whom I seduc'd 
 
 With other promises and other vaunts 
 
 Than to submit, boasting I could subdue 
 
 The Omnipotent. Ay 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 scepter high advanc'd 90 
 
 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 highth recall high thoughts, how soon unsay 
 
 What feigned submission swore 1 Ease would recant 
 
 Vows made in pain, as violent and void, 
 
 For never can true reconcilement grow, 
 
 Where wounds of deadly hate have pierc'd so deep : 
 
 Which would but lead me to a worse relapse ioo 
 
 And 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, behold, instead 
 
 Of us outcast, exil'd, 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 no 
 
 Divided empire with Heaven's King I hold,
 
 90 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 By thee, and more than half perhaps will reign ; 112 
 As Man erelong, and this new world, shall know.' 1 
 
 Thus while he spake, each passion dirnin'd his face 
 Thrice chang'd with pale, ire, envy, 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, 120 
 
 Artificer of fraud ; and was the first 
 That practis'cl falsehood under saintly show, 
 Deep malice to conceal, couch'd with revenge : 
 Yet not enough had practis'd to deceive 
 Uriel once warn'd ; whose eye pursued him down 
 The way he went, and on the Assyrian mount 
 Saw him disfigur'd, more than could befall 
 Spirit of happy sort : His gestures fierce 
 He niark'd, and mad demeanour, then alone, 
 As he suppos'd, all unobserv'd, unseen. 130 
 
 So on he fares, and to the border comes 
 Of Eden, where delicious Paradise, 
 Now nearer, crowns with her enclosure green, 
 As with a rural mound, the champain head 
 Of a steep wilderness, whose hairy sides 
 With thicket overgrown, grottesque and wild, 
 Access denied ; aud overhead up grew 
 Insuperable highth of loftiest shade, 
 Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching palm, 
 A sylvan scene ; and, as the ranks ascend 140 
 
 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.
 
 BOOK IV. 91 
 
 And higher than that wall a circling row 146 
 
 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 in 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 160 
 
 Mozambiek, 1 off at sea north-east winds blow 
 Sabean odours from the spicy shore 
 Of Araby the blest ; with such delay 
 Well pleas'd they slack their course, and many a league 
 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 pleased 
 Than Asmodeus 2 with the fishy fume 
 That drove him, though enamour'd, from the spouse 
 Of Tobit's son, and with a vengeance sent 170 
 
 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 entwin'd, 
 As one continued brake, the undergrowth 
 Of shrubs and tangling bushes had perplex'd 
 All path of man, or beast that pass'd that way. 
 
 1 'Mozambique,' Straits of, dividing Madagascar from Africa. — - ' Asmodeus :' 
 see Tobit in Apocrypha.
 
 
 92 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 One gate there only was, and that look'd east 1 ^s 
 
 On the other side : which when the arch-felon saw, 
 
 Due entrance he disdain'd ; and, in contempt, 
 
 A.t 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 cotes 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, 190 
 
 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 us'd 
 
 For prospect, what, well us'd, had been the pledge 200 
 
 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 expos'd, 
 In narrow room, Nature's whole wealth , yea more, 
 A Heaven on Earth : For blissful Paradise 
 Of God the garden was, by him in the cast 
 Of Eden planted ; Eden stretch'd her line
 
 BOOK IV. 93 
 
 From Auran 1 eastward to the royal towers 211 
 
 Of great Seleucia, 2 built by Grecian kings, 
 
 Or where the sons of Eden long before 
 
 Dwelt in Telassar : 3 In this pleasant soil 
 
 His far more pleasant garden God ordain'd ; 
 
 Out of the fertile ground he caus'd 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, 220 
 
 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 chang'd his course, but through the shaggy hill 
 
 Pass'd underneath ingulf d, for God had thrown 
 
 That mountain as his garden-mould high rais'd 
 
 Upon the rapid current, which, through veins 
 
 Of porous earth with kindly thirst updrawn, 
 
 Rose a fresh fountain, and with many a rill 
 
 Water'd the garden ; thence united fell 230 
 
 Down the steep glade, and met the nether flood, 
 
 Which from his darksome passage now appears, 
 
 And now, divided into four main streams, 
 
 Runs 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, 
 
 With mazy errour under pendant shades 
 
 Ran nectar, visiting each plant, and fed 240 
 
 Flowers worthy of Paradise, which not nice Art 
 
 In beds and curious knots, but Nature boon 
 
 ''Auran:' a city of Mesopotamia near Euphrates. — 2 'Seleucia:' a city 
 built by Seleucus on the Tigris. — 3 ' Telassar : ' a province in Babylonia.
 
 94 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Pour'd forth profuse on hill, and dale, and plain, 243 
 
 Both where the morning sun first warmly smote 
 
 The open field, and where the unpierc'd shade 
 
 Imbrown'd the noontide bowers : Thus was this place 
 
 A happy rural seat of various view ; 
 
 Groves whose rich trees wept odorous gums and balm, 
 
 Others w r hose fruit, burnish'd wdth golden rind, 
 
 Hung amiable, Hesperian fables true, 250 
 
 If true, here only, and of delicious taste : 
 
 Betwixt them lawns, or level downs, and flocks 
 
 Grazing the tender herb, were interpos'd ; 
 
 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 wmich the mantling vine 
 
 Lays forth her purple grape, and gently creeps 
 
 Luxuriant : meanwhile murmuring waters fall 260 
 
 Down the slope hills, dispers'd, or in a lake, 
 
 That to the fringed bank with myrtle crown'd 
 
 Her crystal mirrour 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, 1 where Proserpine gathering flowers, 
 
 Herself a fairer flower, by gloomy Dis 2 270 
 
 Was gather'd, which cost Ceres all that pain 
 
 To seek her through the world ; nor that sweet grove 
 
 Of Daphne by Orontcs, and the inspir'd 
 
 Castalian spring, might with this Paradise 
 
 1 ' Enna,' ' Daphne, 1 ' Xy.-cian isle,' ' Amara:' places in Sicily, or Greece, or 
 Africa, famed among the ancients for their beaut)'. — 2 ' Dis:' l'luto.
 
 BOOK IV. 95 
 
 Of Eden strive ; nor that Nyseian isle 275 
 
 Girt with the river Triton, where old Cham, 
 
 Whom Gentiles Amnion call and Lybian Jove. 
 
 Hid Amalthea, and her florid son, 
 
 Young Bacchus, from his step-dame Rhea's eye ; 
 
 Nor where Abassin 1 kings their issue guard, 280 
 
 Mount Amara, though this by some suppos'd 
 
 True Paradise under the Ethiop line 
 
 By Nilus' head, enclosed with shining rock, 
 
 A whole day's journey high, but wide remote 
 
 From this Assyrian garden, where the Fiend 
 
 Saw, undelighted, all delight, all kindK 
 
 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 : 290 
 
 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 plac'd,) 
 
 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, declar'd 3oo 
 
 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 wav'd 
 
 As the vine curls her tendrils, which implied 
 
 1 ' Abassin : ' Abyssinian.
 
 96 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Subjection, but required with gentle sway, 308 
 
 And by her yielded, by him best receiv'd, 
 
 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 shows 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 : 320 
 
 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 suffic'd 
 
 To recommend cool Zephyr, and made ease 
 
 More easy, wholesome thirst and appetite 330 
 
 More grateful, to their supper-fruits they fell, 
 
 Nectarine fruits which the compliant boughs 
 
 Yielded them, sidelong as they sat recline 
 
 On the soft downy bank damask'd with flowers : 
 
 The savoury 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 340 
 
 All beasts of the earth, since wild, and of all chase
 
 BOOK IV. 97 
 
 In wood or wilderness, forest or den ; 342 
 
 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, us'd all his might and wrcath'd 
 
 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 350 
 
 Couch'd, and, now fill'd with pasture gazing sat 
 
 Or bedward ruminating ; for the sun, 
 
 Declin'd, 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 iu gaze, as first he stood, 
 
 ^Scarce thus at length fail'd speech recover'd sad. 
 
 ji^V) Hell ! what do mine eyes with grief behold ! 
 Into our room of bliss thus high advanc'd 
 Creatures of other mould, earth-born perhaps, sgo 
 
 Not Spirits, yet to heavenly Spirits bright 
 Little inferiour ; 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 pour'd. 
 Ah, gentle pair! ye little think how nigh 
 Your change approaches, when all these delights 
 Will vanish, and deliver ye to woe ; 
 More woe, the more you taste is now of joy ; 
 Happy, but for so happy ill secur'd 37c 
 
 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 purpos'd foe 
 To you, whom I could pity thus forlorn, 
 Though I unpitied : League with you I seek, 
 
 G
 
 98 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 And mutual amity, so strait, so close, 376 
 
 That I with you must dwell, or you with me, 
 
 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, 
 
 Not 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 publick reason just, 
 
 Honour and empire with revenge enlarg'd 390 
 
 By conquering this new world, compels me now 
 
 To do what else, though damn'd, I should abhor, 'if 
 
 So spake the Fiend, and with necessity, 
 The tyrant's plea, excus'd 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 scrv'd best his end 
 Nearer to view his prey, and, unespied. 
 To mark what of their state he more might learn, 400 
 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 spied 
 In some purlieu two gentle fawns at play, 
 Straight crouches close, then rising, changes oft 
 His couchaut watch, as one who chose his ground, 
 "Whence rushing he might surest seize them both, 
 Grip'd in each paw ; when, Adam first of men,
 
 BOOK IV. 99 
 
 To first of women, Eve thus moving speech, 409 
 
 Turn'd him, all ear, to hear new utterance flow. 
 1 1 Sole partner, and sole part, of all these jojs,-~ 
 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 plac'd 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 420 
 
 This one, this easy charge, of all the trees 
 In Paradise, that bear delicious fruit 
 So various, not to taste that only tree 
 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 
 Conferral upon us, and dominion given 430 
 
 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, 
 To prune these growing plants, and tend these flowers, 
 Which were it toilsome, yet with thee were sweet.' 
 
 To whom thus Eve replied. thou for whom 4 40 
 And from whom, I was form'd, flesh of thy fleshy 
 And without whom am to no end, my guide
 
 100 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 And head ! — what thou hast said is just and right. 443 
 
 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 nowhere find. 
 
 That day I oft remember, when from sleep 
 
 I first awak'd, aud found myself repos'd 450 
 
 Under a shade on flowers, much wondering where, 
 
 And what I was, whence thither brought, and how. 
 
 i\ot distant far from thence a murmuring sound 
 
 Of waters issued from a cave, and spread 
 
 Into a liquid plain, then stood unmov'd, 
 
 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, that to me seem'd another sky. 
 
 As I bent down to look, just opposite 460 
 
 A shape within the watery gleam appear d 
 
 Bending to look on me ; I started back, 
 
 It started back ; but pleas'd I soon return'd, 
 
 Pleas'd it returned as soon, with answering looks 
 
 Of sympathy and love : There I had fix'd 
 
 Mine eyes till now, and pin'd with vain desire, 
 
 Had not a voice thus warned me ; "What thou secst, 
 
 What there thou seest, fair creature, is thyself ; 
 
 With thee it came and goes : but follow me, 
 
 And I will bring (lice where no shadow stays 470 
 
 Thy coining, and thy soft embraces, he 
 
 Whose image thou art ; him thou shalt enjoy 
 
 Inseparably thine, to him slialt bear 
 
 Multitudes like thyself, and thence be calfd 
 
 Mother of human race." What could I do, 
 
 But follow straight, invisibly thus led 1
 
 BOOK IV. 101 
 
 Till I espied thee, fair indeed and tall, 477 
 
 Under a platane ; yet, niethought, less fair, 
 
 Less winning soft, less amiably mild, 
 
 Than that smooth watery image : back I turn'd ; 
 
 Thou following cry'dst aloud, " Return, fair Eve ; 
 
 Whom fly'st thou 1 whom thou fly'st, of him thou art, 
 
 His flesh, his bone • to give thee being I lent 
 
 Out of my side to thee, nearest my heart, 
 
 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 
 
 Seiz'd mine : I yielded , and from that time see 
 
 How beauty is excell'd by manly grace, 490 
 
 And wisdom, which alone is truly fair. " 
 
 So spake our general mother, and with eyes 
 Of conjugal attraction unreprov'd 
 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 superiour love, as Jupiter 
 On Juno smiles, when he impregns the clouds 500 
 
 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 
 Ey'd them askance, and to himself thus plain'd. 
 
 ' Sight hateful, sight tormenting ! thus these two, 
 Imparadis'd in one another's arms, 
 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,
 
 102 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Still unfulfiU'd with pain of longing pines. sn 
 
 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 caU'd, 
 Forbidden them to taste : Knowledge forbidden 1 
 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 1 Is that their happy state, 
 The proof of their obedience and their faith 1 520 
 
 fair foundation laid whereon to build 
 Their rain ! 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 1 
 But first with narrow search I must walk round 
 This garden, and no corner leave unspied ; 
 A chance but chance may lead where I may meet 530 
 Some wandering Spirit of Heaven by fountain-side, 
 Or in thick shade retir'd, from him to draw 
 What further would be learn'd. Live while ye may, 
 Ye happy pair : enjoy, till I return, 
 Short pleasures, for long woes are to succeed^ 
 So saying, his proud step he scornful turu'd, 
 But with sly circumspection, and began 
 Through wood, through waste, o'er hill, o'er dale, his roam. 
 Meanwhile, in utmost longitude, where Heaven 
 With earth and ocean meets, the setting sun 540 
 
 Slowly descended, and, with right aspect, 
 Against the eastern gate of Paradise 
 Levell'd his evening rays: It was a rock 
 Of alabaster, pil'd up to the clouds,
 
 BOOK IV. 103 
 
 Conspicuous far, winding with one ascent 545 
 
 Accessible from earth, one entrance high; 
 
 The rest was craggy cliff, that overhung 
 
 Still as it rose, impossible to climb. 
 
 Betwixt these rocky pillars Gabriel 1 sat, 
 
 Chief of the angelick guards, awaiting night ; 550 
 
 About him exercis'd heroick games 
 
 The unarm'd youth of Heaven, but nigh at hand 
 
 Celestial armoury, shields, helms, and spears, 
 
 Hung high with diamond flaming and with gold. 
 
 Thither came Uriel, gliding through the even 
 
 On a sunbeam, swift as a shooting star 
 
 In autumn thwarts the night, when vapours fir'd 
 
 Impress the air, and show the mariner 
 
 From what point of his compass to beware 
 
 Impetuous winds : He thus began in haste. 500 
 
 1 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 highth 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 describ'd his way, 
 
 Bent all on speed, and mark'd his aery gait ; 
 
 But, in the mount that lies from Eden north, 
 
 AVhere he first lighted, soon discern'd his looks 57 ° 
 
 Alien from Heaven, with passions foul obscur'd : 
 
 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 warriour thus return'd. 
 if . 
 
 Uriel, no wonder if thy perfect sight, 
 
 1 ' Gabriel :' an archangel mentioned in Daniel, Luke, &c.
 
 104 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Amid the sun's bright circle where thou sitst, srs 
 
 See far and wide : In at this gate none pass 
 
 The vigilance here plac'd, 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. 
 
 So promised he ; and Uriel to his charge 
 Returned on that bright beam, whose point now rais'd 59 o 
 Bore him slope downward to the sun now fallen 
 Beneath the Azores ; J whether the prime orb, 
 Incredible how swift, had hither roll'd 
 Diurnal, or this less volubil 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, 6 °o 
 
 They to their grassy couch, these to their nests 
 Wqrc slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale ; 
 She all night long her amorous descant sung ; 
 Silence was pleas'd : Now glow'd the firmament 
 With living sapphires : Hesperus, that led 
 The starry host, rode brightest, till the moon, 
 Rising in clouded majesty, at length 
 Apparent queen, unveil'd her peerless light, 
 And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw. 
 
 1 'The Azores:' nine islands in the Atlantic, sometimes called the Tercera9, 
 from Teroera the largest.
 
 BOOK IV. 105 
 
 When Adam thus to Eve. Fair Consort, the hour 
 Of night, and all things now retired to rest, en 
 
 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, 
 Now falling with soft slumberous weight, inclines 
 Our eyelids: Other creatures all day long 
 Rove idle, unemploy'd, and less need rest 
 Man hath his daily work_of body or mind 
 
 1&Y 
 
 K^O 
 
 Appointed, which declares his dignity, 
 
 And the regard of Heaven on all his ways ; 620 
 
 While other animals unactive 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 present labour, to reform 
 
 Yon flow'ry arbour 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 dropping gums, eso 
 
 That lie bestrown, unsightly and unsmooth, 
 
 A sk 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 
 Unargued I obey : So God ordains ; 
 God is thy law, thou mine : To know no more 
 Is woman's happiest knowledge and her praise. 
 With thee conversing I forget all time ; 
 All seasons, and their change, all please alike. 640 
 
 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
 
 106 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 His orient beams on herb, tree, fyuit, anjl flower, 6U 
 
 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 650 
 
 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, 660 
 
 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 prepar'd, 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, 
 Temper or nourish, or in part shed down 670 
 
 Their stellar virtue on all kinds that crow 
 On earth, made hereby apter to receive 
 Perfection from the sun's more potent ray. 
 These then, though unbehcld 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
 
 BOOK IV. 107 
 
 Unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep : crs 
 
 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 other's note, 
 
 Singing their Great Creator % oft in bands 
 
 While they keep A^atch, or nightly rounding walk, 
 
 With heavenly touch of instrumental sounds 
 
 In full harmonick number join'd, their songs 
 
 Divide the night, and lift our thoughts to Heaven. 
 
 Thus talking, hand in hand alone they pass'd 
 On to their blissful bower : it was a place 69 ° 
 
 Chosen by the Sovran 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, 
 Fenc'd up the verdant wall ; each beauteous flower, 
 Iris all hues, roses, and jessamin, 
 
 Rear'd high their flourish'd heads between, and wrought 
 Mosaick ; under foot the violet, 7oo 
 
 Crocus, and hyacinth, with rich inlay 
 Broider'd the ground, more colour'd than with stone 
 Of costliest emblem : Other creature here, 
 Bird, beast, insect, or worm, durst enter none, 
 Such was their awe of Man. In shadier bower 
 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 ; 710 
 
 And heavenly choirs the hymensean sung,
 
 108 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 What day the genial Angel to our sire 712 
 
 Brought her, in naked beauty more adorn'd, 
 
 More lovely than Pandora, 1 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 ensnar'd 
 
 Mankind with her fair looks, to be aveng'd 
 
 On him who had stole 2 Jove's authentick fire. 
 
 Thus, at their shady lodge arrived, both stood, 720 
 Both turn'd, and under open sky ador'd 
 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 clay, 
 Which we, in our appointed work employ 'd, 
 Have finish'd, 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 730 
 
 Partakers, and uncropt falls to the ground. 
 But thou hast promis'd 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, eas'd the putting off 
 These troublesome disguises which we wear, 710 
 
 Straight side by side were laid ; nor turn'd, I ween, 
 Adam from his fair spouse, nor Eve the rites 
 
 1 ' Pandora : ' sent on earth to revenge the theft of Prometheus, married to 
 Epimetheos, and downed With a box, which, when opened by her husband, let 
 loose all manner of evils on the world. — - ' Him who stole,' &c. : Prometheus.
 
 BOOK IV. 109 
 
 Mysterious of connubial love refused : 743 
 
 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 encrease ; who bids abstain, 
 
 But our Destroyer, foe to God and man 1 
 
 Hail, wedded Love, mysterious law, true source ? 50 
 
 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, ?G0 
 
 Whose bed is undenTd and chaste pronounc'd, 
 
 Present or past, as saints and patriarchs us'd. 
 
 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 serenate, which the starv'd lover sings 
 
 To his proud fair, best quitted with disdain. 77 ° 
 
 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 ! yet happiest, if ye seek 
 
 No happier state, and know to know no more.
 
 110 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Now had Night measur'd 1 with her shadowy cone rrc 
 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. 2 
 From these, two strong and subtle Spirits he call'd 
 That near him stood, and gave them thus in charge. 
 
 Ithuriel and Zcphon, with wing'd speed 
 Search through this garden, leave unsearch'd no nook ; 
 But chiefly where those two fair creatures lodge, 790 
 Now laid perhaps asleep, secure of harm. 
 This evening from the sun's decline arriv'd, 
 Who tells of some infernal Spirit seen 
 Hitherward bent (who could have thought 1) escap'd 
 The bars of Hell, on errand bad no doubt : 
 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 found 
 Squat like a toad, close at the ear of Eve, 800 
 
 Assaying, 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, 
 
 1 ' Night measur'd,' &c. : t. e., it was about nine evening. — - ' To the shield,' 
 ' to the spear : ' i. e., to right and left.
 
 BOOK IT. Ill 
 
 Vain hopes, vain aims, inordinate desires, 80s 
 
 Blown up with high conceits ingendering 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 rumour'd war, the smutty grain, 
 
 With sudden blaze diffus'd, inflames the air ; 
 
 So started up, in his own shape the Fiend. 
 
 Back stept those two fair Angels, half amaz'd 8 ' 20 
 
 So sudden to behold the grisly king ; 
 
 Yet thus, unmov'd with fear, accost him soon. 
 
 Which of those rebel Spirits, adjudg'd to Hell, 
 Com'st thou, escap'd thy prison % and, transform'd, 
 Why sat'st thou like an enemy in wait, 
 Here watching at the head of these that sleep % 
 
 Know ye not then, said Satan, till'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, 830 
 
 The lowest of your throng ; or, if ye know, 
 Why ask ye, and superfluous begin 
 Your message, like to end as much in vain 1 
 
 To whom thus Zephon, answering scorn with scorn. 
 Think not, revolted Spirit, thy shape the same, 
 Or undiminish'd brightness to be known, 
 As when thou stood'st in Heaven upright and pure ; 
 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. 84 ° 
 
 But come, for thou, be sure, shalt give account
 
 112 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 To him who sent us, whose charge is to keep 842 
 
 This place inviolable, and these from harm. 
 
 So spake the Cherub ; and this 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 pin'd 
 His loss ; but chiefly to find here observ'd 
 His lustre visibly impair'd ; yet seem'd sso 
 
 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, 
 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 860 
 
 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 870 
 
 And fierce demeanour seems the Prince of Hell, 
 Not likely to part hence without contest ; 
 Stand firm, for in his look defiance lowers. 
 
 He scarce had ended, when those two approach'd,
 
 BOOK IV. 113 
 
 And brief related whom they brought, where found, 875 
 How busied, in what form and posture couch'd. 
 
 To whom with stern regard thus Gabriel spake : 
 Why hast thou, Satan, broke the bounds prescrib'd 
 To thy transgressions, and disturb'd the charge 
 Of others, who approve not to transgress 880 
 
 By thy example, but have power and right 
 To question thy bold entrance on this place ; 
 Employ'd, it seems, to violate sleep, and those 
 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 1 
 Who would not, finding way, break loose from Hell, 
 Though thither doom'd 1 Thou would'st thyself, no doubt, 
 And boldly venture to whatever place 89i 
 
 Farthest from pain, where thou might'st hope to change 
 Torment with ease, and soonest recompense 
 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 % 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 ; 900 
 But that implies not violence or harm. 
 
 Thus he in scorn. The warlike angel mov'd, 
 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 
 
 H
 
 114 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Unlicensed, from his bounds in Hell prescrib'd ; 9° 9 
 
 So wise he judges it to fly from pain 
 
 However, and to 'scape his punishment ! 
 
 So judge thou still, presumptuous ! till the wrath 
 
 Which thou incurr'st by flying, meet thy flight 
 
 Sevenfold, and scourge that wisdom back to Hell, 
 
 Which taught thee yet no better, that no pain 
 
 Can equal anger infinite provok'd. 
 
 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 ! 920 
 
 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, 930 
 
 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 ; 940 
 
 Though for possession, put to try once more 
 What thou and thy gay legions dare against ;
 
 BOOK IV. 115 
 
 Whose easier business were to serve their Lord 943 
 
 High up in Heaven, with songs to hymn his throne.. 
 And practised distances to cringe, not fight. 
 
 To whom the warriour- Angel soon replied. 
 To say and straight unsay, pretending first 
 Wise to fly pain, professing next the spy, 
 Argues no leader, but a liar trac'cl, 
 Satan ; and could'st thou faithful add 1 name, 950 
 sacred name of faithfulness profan'd ! 
 Faithful to whom 1 to thy rebellious crew % 
 Army of Fiends, fit body to fit head. 
 Was this your discipline and faith engag'd. 
 Your military obedience, to dissolve 
 Allegiance to the acknowledg'd Power supreme 1 
 And thou, sly hypocrite, who now wouldst seem 
 Patron of liberty, who more than thou 
 Once fawn'd, and cring'd, and servilely ador'd 
 Heaven's awful Monarch \ wherefore, but in hope 960 
 To dispossess him, and thyself to reign % 
 But mark what I areed 1 thee now, Avant ; 
 Fly thither whence thou fledst ! 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, 9 ?o 
 
 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, 
 
 1 ' Areed : ' appoint, or decree.
 
 116 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Us'd to the joke, draw'st his triumphant "wheels 975 
 
 In progress through the road of Heaven star-pav'd. 
 
 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 1 spears, as thick as when a field 9S0 
 
 Of Ceres, ripe for harvest, waving bends 
 Her bearded grove of ears, which way the wind 
 Sways them ; the careful plowman 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 Teneriif or Atlas, unremov'd : 
 His stature reached the sky, and on his crest 
 Sat Horrour plum'd ; nor wanted in his grasp 
 What seem'd both spear and shield : Now dreadful deeds 
 Might have ensued, nor only Paradise, 99i 
 
 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, 2 yet seen 
 Betwixt Astrea and the Scorpion sign, 
 Wherein all things created first he weigh'd, 
 The pendulous round earth with balanc'd air 1000 
 
 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 ilew, and kick'd the beam ; 
 Which Gabriel spying, thus bespakc the Fiend. 
 
 Satan, I know thy strength, and thou know'st mine ; 
 
 1 ' Ported : ' ;i military term — lornr, pointed. — 2 ' Golden scales : ' tire con- 
 stellation Libra, or the Balance
 
 BOOK IV. 117 
 
 Neither our own, but given : What folly then 1007 
 To boast what arms can do % since thine no more 
 Than Heaven permits, nor mine, though doubled now 
 To trample thee as mire : For proof look up, 
 And read thy lot in yon celestial sign ; 
 Where thou art weigh'd, and shown how light, how weak, 
 If thou resist. The Fiend look'd up, and knew 
 His mounted scale aloft : Nor more ; but fled 
 Murmuring, and with him fled the shades of night. 1015
 
 BOOK V. 
 
 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 morn- 
 ing hymn at the door of their bower. God, to render man inexcusable, 
 sends Raphael to admonish him of his obedience, of his free estate, of 
 his enemy near at hand, who he is, and why his enemy, and whatever 
 else may avail Adam to know. Raphael comes down to Paradise ; Ins 
 appearance described ; his coming discerned by Adam afar off, sitting at 
 ihe door of his bower ; 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 performs his message, minds Adam of 
 his state aud of his enemy ; relates, at Adam's request, 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. 
 
 Now Morn, her rosy steps in the eastern clime 
 
 Advancing, sow'd the earth with orient pearl, 
 
 When Adam wak'd, so custoni'd ; for his sleep 
 
 Was aery-light, from pure digestion bred, 
 
 And temperate vapours bland, which the only sound 
 
 Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan, 
 
 Lightly dispers'd, 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, 10 
 
 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 Making or asleep, 
 
 Shot forth peculiar graces ; then, with voice
 
 BOOK V. 119 
 
 Mild, as when Zeplijrus on Flora breathes, 16 
 
 Her hand soft touching, whisper'd thus : Awake, 
 My fairest, my espous'd, 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 
 Our tender 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 wak'd 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 30 
 
 (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 \ now is the pleasant time, 
 The cool, the silent, save where silence yields 
 To the night- warbling bird, that now awake 40 
 
 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 1 
 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 ;
 
 120 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 And on, methouglit, alone I pass'd through ways 5 o 
 
 That brought me on a sudden to the tree 
 
 Of interdicted knowledge : fair it seem'd, 
 
 Much fairer to my fancy than by clay : 
 
 And, as I wondering look'd, beside it stood 
 
 One shap'd and wing'd like one of those from Heaven 
 
 By us oft seen ; his dewy locks distill'd 
 
 Ambrosia ; on that tree he also gaz'd ; 
 
 And " fair plant," said he, " with fruit surcharg'd, 
 
 " Deigns none to ease thy load, and taste thy sweet, 
 
 " Nor god, nor man \ Is knowledge so despis'd % 60 
 
 " 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 V 
 
 This said, he paus'd not, but with venturous arm 
 
 He pluck'd, he tasted ; me damp horrour chill'd 
 
 At such bold words vouch'd with a deed so bold : 
 
 But lie 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 : 70 
 
 And why not gods of men '? since good, the more 
 " Communicated, more abundant grows, 
 " The author not impair'd, but honour'd more 1 
 " Here, happy creature, fair angelick Eve ! 
 " Partake thou also ; happy though thou art, 
 " Happier thou may'st be, worthier can'st not be : 
 " Taste this, and be heuceforth among the gods 
 " Thyself a goddess, not to earth coufin'd, 
 " But sometimes in the air, as we, sometimes 
 " Ascend to Heaven, by merit thine, and see so 
 
 " 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
 
 BOOK V. 12] 
 
 Which he had pluck'd : the pleasant savoury smell 84 
 
 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 90 
 
 My guide was gone, and I, methought, sunk down, 
 
 And fell asleep ; but 0, how glad I wak'd 
 
 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 10 ° 
 
 Are many lesser faculties, that serve 
 Reason as chief ; among these F ancy next 
 HeFoffice'holds ; of all external things, 
 Which the five watchful senses represent, 
 She forms imaginations, aery 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 mimick Fancy wakes 110 
 
 To imitate her ; but, misjoining shapes, 
 Wild work produces oft, and most in dreams ; 
 111 matching words and deeds, long past or late. 
 Some such resemblances, methinks, I find 
 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
 
 122 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 May come and go, so unapprov'd, and leave 
 
 No spot or blame behind : Which gives me hope 
 
 That what in sleep thou didst 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, 
 
 Reserv'd 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 130 
 
 From either eye, and wip'd 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, ho 
 
 Shot parallel to the earth his dewy ray, 
 Discovering in wide landskip all the east 
 Of Paradise and Eden's happy plains, 
 Lowly they bow'd adoring, and began 
 Their orisons, each morning duly paid 
 In various style ; for neither various style 
 Nor holy rapture wanted they to praise 
 Their Maker, in fit strains pronoune'd, or sung 
 Unmeditated ; such prompt eloquence 
 Flow'd from their lips, in prose or numerous verse,
 
 > BOOK V. 123 
 
 More tunable than needed lute or harp 151 
 
 To add more sweetness ; and thej thus began. 
 These are thj glorious works, Parent of good, 
 Almighty ! Thine this universal frame, 
 Thus wonderous fair ; Thyself how wonderous then ! 
 Unspeakable, who sit'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, 160 
 
 v 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. 170 
 
 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 
 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 
 
 v His praise who out of darkness call'd up light. 
 Air, and ye Elements, the eldest birth iso 
 
 Of Nature's womb, that in quaternion run 
 Perpetual circle, multiform ; and mix 
 And nourish all things ; let your ceaseless change i 
 Vary to our Great Maker still new praise.
 
 124 TAEADISE LOST. 
 
 Ye Mists and Exhalations that now rise 185 
 
 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, 190 
 
 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 200 
 
 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 
 Have gathered aught of evil, or conccal'd, 
 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. 210 
 
 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, spous'd, about him twines 
 Her marriageable arms, and with her brings 
 Her dower, the adopted clusters, to adorn
 
 BOOK V. 125 
 
 His barren leaves. Them thus employ'd beheld 219 
 
 With pity Heaven's high King, and to him call'd 
 
 Raphael, the sociable Spirit, that deign'd 
 
 To travel with Tobias, 1 and secur'd 
 
 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 gulf, 
 Hath rais'd in Paradise ; and how disturb'd 
 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 230 
 
 Thou find'st him, from the heat of noon retir'd 
 To respite his day-labour with repast, 
 Or with repose ; and such discourse bring on, 
 As may adv ise him of his happy state, 
 Happiness in his power left fr ee to will, 
 Left to his own free will, his will though free, 
 Yet mutable ; whence warn him to beware 
 He swerve not, too secure : Tell him withal 
 His danger, and from whom ; what enemy, 
 Late fallen himself from Heaven, is plotting now 240 
 The fall of others from like state of bliss ; 
 By violence 1 no, for that shall be withstood ; 
 But by deceit and lies : This let him know, 
 Lest, wilfully transgressing, he pretend 
 Surprisal, unadmonish'd, unforewarn'd. 
 
 So spake the Eternal Father, and fulfill'd 
 All justice : Nor delay'd the winged Saint 
 After his charge receiv'd; but from among 
 Thousand celestial Ardours, where he stood 
 Veil'd with his gorgeous wings, upspringing light, 250 
 Flew through the midst of Heaven : the angelick quires 
 
 1 ' Tobias : ' see book of Tobit in Apocrypha.
 
 126 PAEADISE LOST. 
 
 On each Land parting, to his speed gave way 252 
 
 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 Sovran Architect had fram'd. 
 
 From hence no cloud, or, to obstruct his sight, 
 
 Star interpos'd, however small, he sees, 
 
 Not imconform'd to other shining globes, 
 
 Earth, and the garden of God, with cedars crown'd 260 
 
 Above all hills. As when by night the glass 
 
 Of Galileo, less assur'd, observes 
 
 Imagin'd 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 
 
 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 270 
 
 Of towering eagles, to all the fowls he seems 
 
 A phoenix, 1 gazed by all as that sole bird, 
 
 When, to enshrine his relics 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 2 returns, 
 
 A Seraph wing'd : 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 280 
 
 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 
 
 1 • Thoenix. ' It is not meant that he assumed the form, but only that he 
 appeared a phoenix. — 2 ' Proper shape : ' i. e., was seen in his true form.
 
 BOOK V. 127 
 
 Shadow'd from either heel with feather'd mail, 2S4 
 
 Sky-tinctur'd 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. 290 
 
 Their glittering tents 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, 
 
 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 300 
 
 Shot down direct his fervid rays to warm 
 
 Earth's inmost womb, more warmth than Adam needs : 
 
 And Eve within, due at her hour, prepar'd 
 
 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 310 
 
 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
 
 128 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 From large bestow'd, where Nature multiplies 31 8 
 
 Her fertile growth, and by disburdening grows 
 More fruitful, which instructs us not to spare. 
 
 To whom thus Eve. Adam, earth's hallow'd mould, 
 Of God inspir'd ! 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, 
 Each plant and juiciest gourd, will pluck such choice 
 To entertain our Angel-guest, as he, 
 Beholding, shall confess, that here on Earth 
 God hath dispens'd his bounties as in Heaven. 330 
 
 So saying, with dispatchful looks in haste 
 She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent 
 What choice to choose for delicacy best, 
 What order, so contriv'd 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 1 or the Punick 2 coast, or where 340 
 
 Alcinous reign'd, 3 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 4 
 From many a berry, and from sweet kernels press'd 
 She tempers dulcet creams ; nor these to hold 
 Wants her fit vessels pure ; then strows the ground 
 With rose and odours from the shrub unfum'd. 
 
 1 'Pontus:' part of Asia. — 2 'Punick coast:' part of Africa. — 3 'Where 
 Alcinous reign'd : ' an island in the Ionian Sea, now called Corfu. — * ' Meaths : ' 
 sweet drinks like mead.
 
 BOOK V. 12,0 
 
 Meanwhile our primitive greatsire, to meet 350 
 
 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 croud, and sets them all agape. 
 Nearer his presence Adam, though not aw'd, 
 Yet with submiss approach, and reverence meek, 
 As to a superiour nature, bowing low, 360 
 
 Thus said. Native of heaven, for other place 
 None can than Heaven such glorious shape contain ; 
 Since, bj descending from the thrones above, 
 Those happy places thou hast deign'd a while 
 To want, and honour these, vouchsafe with us 
 Two only, who yet by sovran 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. 370 
 
 Whom thus the Angelick 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 1 arbour smiled, 
 With flowerets deck'd, and fragrant smells ; but Eve, 
 Undeck'd save with herself, more lovely fair 380 
 
 Than Wood-Nymph, or the fairest goddess feign'd 
 
 1 ' Pomona : ' goddess of fruit-trees. 
 I
 
 130 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Of three 1 that in mount Ida naked strove, 3S2 
 
 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 us'd 
 Long after to blest Mary, second Eve. 
 
 Hail, Mother of Mankind, whose fruitful womb 
 Shall fill the world more numerous with thy sons, 
 Than with these various fruits the trees of God 390 
 
 Have heap'd this table ! Rais'd of grassy turf 
 Their table was, and mossy seats had round, 
 And on her ample square from side to side, 
 All autumn pil'd, though spring and autumn here 
 Danc'd hand in hand. A while discourse they hold ; 
 Nor fear lest dinner cool ; when thus began 
 Our author. Heavenly stranger, please to taste 
 These bounties, which our Nourisher, from whom 
 All perfect good, unmeasur'd out, descends, 
 To us for food and for delight hath caus'd 400 
 
 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 
 IntelligentiaJ substances require, 
 As doth your rational ; and both contain 
 "Within them every lower faculty 4io 
 
 Of sense, whereby they hear, see, smell, touch, taste, 
 Tasting concoct, digest, assimilate, 
 And corporeal to incorporeal turn. 
 
 1 ' Three : ' Venus, Juno, and Minerva, fur the golden apple, given by Paris 
 to Venus.
 
 BOOK V. 131 
 
 For know, whatever was created needs 4H 
 
 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, unpurg'd 
 
 Vapours not yet into her substance turn'd. 4 20 
 
 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 
 
 Yield nectar ; though from off the boughs each morn 
 
 We brush mellifluous dews, and find the ground 
 
 Cover'd with pearly grain : Yet God hath here 430 
 
 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 despatch 
 
 Of real hunger, and concoctive heat 
 
 To transubstantiate : What redounds, transpires 
 
 Through Spirits with ease ; nor wonder ; if by fire 
 
 Of sooty coal the empirick alchemist 44 ° 
 
 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 liquours crown'd : innocence 
 
 Deserving Paradise ! if ever, then, 
 
 Then had the sons of God excuse to have been
 
 132 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Enamour'd at that sight ; but in those hearts 44s 
 
 Love unlibidinous reign'd, nor jealousy 
 Was understood, the injur'd lover's hell. 
 
 Thus when with meats and drinks they had suffic'd, 
 Not burden'd nature, sudden mind arose 
 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 : 46 ° 
 
 Inhabitant with God, now know I well, 
 Thy favour, in this honour done to Man ; 
 Under whose lowly roof thou hast vouchsafd 
 To enter, and these earthly fruits to taste, 
 Food not of Angels, yet accepted so, 
 As that more willingly thou could'st not seem 
 At Heaven's high feasts to have fed : yet what compare? 
 
 To whom the winged Hicrarch replied. 
 Adam, One Almighty is, from whom 
 All things proceed, and up to him return, 470 
 
 If not deprav'd 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 rcfin'd, more spirituous and pure, 
 As nearer to him plac'd, 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 479 
 
 Springs lighter the green stalk, from thence the leaves 
 More aery, last the bright consummate flower
 
 BOOK v. 133 
 
 Spirits odorous breathes : flowers, and their fruit. 4S2 
 
 Man's nourishment, by gradual scale sublim'd, 
 
 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. 490 
 
 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, 
 
 Improv'd by tract of time, and wing'd, ascend 
 
 Ethereal, as we ; or may, at choice, 
 
 Here, or in heavenly Paradises, dwell ; soo 
 
 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 center to circumference ; whereon, sio 
 
 In contemplation of created things, 
 By steps we may ascend to God. But say 
 What meant that caution join'd, If ye be found 
 Obedient f Can we want obedience then 
 To Him, or possibly his love desert,
 
 134 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 AYho form'd us from the dust and placed us here 516 
 Full to the utmost measure of what bliss 
 Human desires can seek or apprehend ? 
 
 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 advis'd. 
 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 overrul'd by fate 
 Inextricable, or strict necessity: 
 Our voluntary service he requires, 
 Not our necessitated ; such with him 530 
 
 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 angelick host, that stand 
 In sight of God, enthron'd, 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 Mill 
 To love or not ; in this we stand or fall : 540 
 
 And some are fallen, to disobedience fallen, 
 And so from Heaven to deepest Hell ; fall, 
 From what high state of bliss, into what woe ! 
 
 To whom our great progenitor. Thy words 
 Attentive, and with more delighted car, 
 Divine instructor, I have heard, than when 
 Cherubick songs by night from neighbouring hills 
 Aereal music send : Nor knew I not 
 To be both will and deed created free ;
 
 book y. 135 
 
 Yet, that we never shall forget to love 550 
 
 Our Maker, and obey Him whose command 
 
 Single is jet so just, my constant thoughts 
 
 Assur'd 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. 560 
 
 Thus Adam made request ; and Raphael, 
 After short pause assenting, thus began. 
 
 High matter thou enjoin'st me, prime of men, 
 Sad task, and hard : For how shall I relate 
 To human sense the invisible exploits 
 Of warring Spirits 1 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 570 
 
 This is dispensed ; and what surmounts the reach 
 
 Of human sense, I shall delineate so, 
 
 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 now rests 
 Upon her center pois'd ; when on a day 
 (For time, though in eternity, applied sso 
 
 To motion, measures all things durable 
 By present, past, and future,) on such day 
 As Heaven's great year brings forth, the empyreal host
 
 13G PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Of Angels, by imperial summons call'd, 5S4 
 
 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 advanc'd, 
 
 Standards and gonfalons 1 'twixt Tan and rear 
 
 Stream in the air, and for distinction serve 590 
 
 Of hierarchies, of orders, and degrees ; 
 
 Or in their glittering tissues bear imblazed 
 
 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, 600 
 
 Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Virtues, Powers ; 
 Hear my decree, which unrevok'd shall stand. 
 This day I have begot whom I declare 
 My only Son, and on this holy hill 
 Iliin 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, cio 
 
 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 
 
 1 ' Gonfalons : ' flags, or streamers.
 
 BOOK v. 137 
 
 All secra'd well pleas'd ; all seem'd, but were not all. 
 
 That day, as other solemn days, they spent 6X8 
 
 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, 
 
 Eccentrick, intervolv'd, yet regular, 
 
 Then most when most irregular they seem ; 
 
 And in their motions harmony divine 
 
 So smooths her charming tones, that God's own ear 
 
 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 630 
 
 Desirous ; all in circles as they stood, 
 
 Tables are set, and on a sudden pil'd 
 
 With Angels' food, and rubied nectar flows 
 
 In pearl, in diamond, and massy gold, 
 
 Fruit of delicious vines, the growth of Heaven. 
 
 On flowers repos'd, and with fresh flowerets crown'd. 
 
 They eat, they drink, and in communion sweet 
 
 QuaiF immortality and joy, secure 
 
 Of surfeit, where full measure only bounds 639 
 
 Excess, before the All-bounteous King, who shower'd 
 
 With copious hand, rejoicing in their joy. 
 
 Now when ambrosial night, with clouds exhal'd 
 
 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 globous earth in plain outspread, 
 
 (Such are the courts of God) the angelick throng,
 
 138 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Dispers'd in bands and files, their camp extend 65i 
 
 By living streams among the trees of life, 
 
 Pavilions numberless, and sudden rear'd 
 
 Celestial tabernacles, where they slept 
 
 Fann'd with cool winds ; save those who, in their course, 
 
 Melodious hymns about the sovran throne 
 
 Alternate all night long : but not so wak'd 
 
 Satan ; so call him now, his former name 
 
 Is heard no niore in Heaven ; he of the first, 
 
 If not the first Arch-Angel, great in power, 660 
 
 In favour and pre-eminence, yet fraught 
 
 AVith envy against the Son of God, that day 
 
 Honour'd by his Great Father, and proclaim'd 
 
 Messiah King anointed, could not bear 
 
 Through pride that sight, and thought himself impair'd. 
 
 Deep malice thence conceiving and disdain, 
 
 Soon as midnight brought on the dusky hour 
 
 Friendliest to sleep and silence, he rcsolv'd 
 
 With all his legions to dislodge, and leave 
 
 Unworshipt, unobey'd, the throne supreme, 670 
 
 Contemptuous ; and his next subordinate 1 
 
 Awakening, thus to him in secret spake. 
 
 Sleep'st thou, Companion dear 1 What sleep can close 
 Thy eyelids % and remember'st what decree 
 Of yesterday, so late hath pass'd the lips 
 Of Heaven's Almighty % 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 raise 
 In us who serve, new counsels to debate csi 
 
 What doubtful may ensue : More in this place 
 To utter is not safe. Assemble thou 
 
 1 'Next subordinate : ' Beelzebub.
 
 BOOK V. 139 
 
 Of all those myriads which we lead the chief ; 684 
 
 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, 690 
 
 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 infus'd 
 Bad influence into the unwary breast 
 Of his associate : 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 disencumber'd Heaven, <"oo 
 
 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 superiour 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, allur'd them, and with lies 
 Drew after him the third part of Heaven's host. 710 
 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
 
 140 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Were banded to oppose his high decree ; 717 
 
 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 ; 
 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 730 
 
 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. 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 740 
 
 Know whether I be dextrous to subdue 
 Thy rebels, or be found the worst in Heaven. 
 
 So spake the Son ; but Satan, with his Powers, 
 Far was advane'd 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
 
 BOOK V. 141 
 
 All thy dominion, Adam, is no more 751 
 
 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 
 
 Rais'd on a mount, with pyramids and towers 
 
 From diamond quarries hewn, and rocks of gold ; 
 
 The palace of great Lucifer, (so call 7G0 
 
 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 declared in sight of Heaven, 
 
 The Mountain of the Congregation 1 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 770 
 
 Of counterfeited truth thus held their ears. 
 
 Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Virtues, Powers ; 
 If these magnifick titles yet remain 
 Not merely titular, since by decree 
 Another now hath to himself engross'd 
 All power, and us eclips'd, 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 devised of honours new, 780 
 
 Receive him coming to receive from us 
 Knee-tribute yet unpaid, prostration vile ! 
 
 1 ' Mountain of Congregation : ' see Isaiah xiv. 13.
 
 142 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Too much to one ! but double how endur'd, 783 
 
 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 joke ? 
 
 Will ye submit your necks, and choose to bend 
 
 The supple knee % Ye will not, if I trust 
 
 To know ye right, or if ye know yourselves 
 
 Natives and sons of Heaven possess'd before 790 
 
 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 soo 
 
 Of those imperial titles, which assert 
 
 Our being ordain'd to govern, not to serve. 
 
 Thus far his bold discourse without controul 
 Had audience ; when among the Seraphim 
 Abdiel, than whom none with more zeal ador'd 
 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 8io 
 
 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, pronounc'd and sworn, 
 That to his only Son, by right endued 
 With regal scepter, every soul in Heaven
 
 BOOK v. 143 
 
 Shall bend the knee, and in that honour due 817 
 
 Confess him rightful King % unjust, thou say'st, 
 
 Flatly unjust, to bind with laws the free, 
 
 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 pleas'd, and circumscrib'd their being 1 
 
 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 830 
 
 United. But to grant it thee unjust, 
 
 That equal over equals monarch reign : 
 
 Thyself though great and glorious, dost thou count, 
 
 Or all angelick nature join'd in one, 
 
 Equal to him, 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 named 
 
 Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Virtues, Powers, 840 
 
 Essential Powers ; nor by his reign obscur'd, 
 
 But more illustrious made ; since he the Head, 
 
 One of our number thus reduc'd 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 incensed Father and the incensed Son, 
 
 While pardon may be found in time besought. 
 
 So spake the fervent Angel ; but his zeal 
 None seconded, as out of season judg'd,
 
 144 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Or singular and rash : Whereat rejoiced 85i 
 
 The Apostate, and, more haughty, thus replied : 
 
 That we were form'd then, say'st thou? and the work 
 Of secondary hands, by task transferred 
 From Father to his Son 1 strange point and new ! 
 Doctrine which we would know whence learn'd : who saw 
 Whence this creation was 1 remember'st thou 
 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-rais'd 8G0 
 
 By our own quick'ning 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 throne 
 Beseeching or besieging. This report, 
 These tidings carry to the anointed King ; sro 
 
 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 
 Dctcrmin'd, and thy hapless crew involved 
 In this perfidious fraud, contagion spread sso 
 
 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 vouchsaf d ; other decrees
 
 BOOK V. 145 
 
 Against theo are gone forth without recall ; 885 
 
 That golden scepter, 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 890 
 
 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 Abcliel, faithful found 
 Among the faithless, faithful only he ; 
 Among innumerable false, unmov'd, 
 Unshaken, unscduc'd, unterrified. 
 His loyalty he kept, his love, his zeal ; 90 ° 
 
 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, which he sustain'd 
 Superiour, nor of violence fear'd aught ; 
 And, with retorted scorn, his back he turn'd 
 On those proud towers to swift destruction doom'cl. 
 
 K
 
 BOOK VL 
 
 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 
 powers 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 both the force 
 and machines of Satan : yet the tumult not so ending, God, on the third 
 day, sends Messiah his Son, for whom 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 them in the deep : 
 Messiah returns with triumph to his Father. 
 
 All night the dreadless Angel, unpursued, 
 
 Through Heaven's wide cliampain held his way ; till Morn, 
 
 Wak'd 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 Heaven 
 
 Grateful vicissitude, like day and night ; 
 
 light issues forth, and at the other door 
 
 Obsequious darkness enters, till her hour 10 
 
 To veil the heaven, though darkness there might well 
 
 Seem twilight here : And now went forth the Mom, 
 
 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, 
 
 Covcr'd with thick embattled squadrons bright, 
 
 Chariots, and flaming arms, and fiery steeds, 
 
 Reflecting blaze on blaze, first met his view :
 
 BOOK VI. 147 
 
 War he perceiv'd, war in procinct -, 1 and found 19 
 
 Already known what he for news had thought 
 
 To have reported : Gladly then he inix'd 
 
 Among those friendly Powers, who him receiv'd 
 
 With joy and acclamations loud, that one, 
 
 That of so many myriads fallen, 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 light, who single hast maintain'd, 30 
 
 Against revolted multitudes, the cause ; 
 
 Of truth, in word mightier than they in arms ; 
 And for the testimony of truth has borne 
 Universal reproach, far worse to bear 
 Than violence ; for this was all thy care, 
 To stand appro v'd in sight of God, though worlds 
 Judg'd 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 40 
 
 By force who reason for their law refuse, 
 Right 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, rang'd for fight, 
 Equal in number to that godless crew 
 Rebellious : Them with fire and hostile arms so 
 
 Fearless assault ; and, to the brow of Heaven 
 
 1 'Procinct:' i. e., on the very point of beginning.
 
 / 
 
 145 PAEADISE LOST. 
 
 Pursuing, drive thein out from God and bliss, 52 
 
 Into their place of punishment, the gulf 
 Of Tartarus, which ready opens wide 
 His fiery Chaos to receive their fall. 
 
 So spake the Sovran Voice 7 and clouds began 
 To darken all the hill, and smoke to roll 
 In dusky wreaths, reluctant flames, the sign 
 Of wrath awak'd ; nor with less dread the loud 
 Ethereal trumpet from on high 'gan blow : 60 
 
 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 breath'd 
 Heroick ardour to adventurous deeds 
 Under their godlike 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 70 
 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 so 
 
 In battailous aspect, and nearer view 
 Bristled with upright beams innumerable 
 Of rigid spears, and helmets throng'd, and shields 
 Various, with boastful argument portray 'd, 
 The banded Powers of Satan, hasting on
 
 BOOK VI. 149 
 
 With furious expedition ; for they ween'd 86 
 
 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 rain 
 
 In the midway : Though strange to us it seem'd 
 
 At first, that Angel should with Angel war, 
 
 And in fierce hosting 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, 100 
 
 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 advanc'd, 
 
 Came towering, arrn'd in adamant and gold ; no 
 
 Abdiel that sight endur'd not, where he stood 
 
 Among the mightiest, bent on highest deeds, 
 
 And thus his own undaunted heart explores. 
 
 Heaven ! that such resemblance of the Highest 
 Should yet remain, where faith and realty 
 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,
 
 150 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 I mean to try, whose reason I have tried 120 
 
 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 
 Incens'd, and thus securely him defied. iso 
 
 Proud, art thou met 1 ? thy hope was to have reach'd 
 The highth of thy aspiring unoppos'd, 
 The throne of God unguarded, and his side 
 Abandon'd at the terrour 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 
 Reaching beyond all limit, at one blow, 140 
 
 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 
 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 answer'd. Ill for thee, but in wish'd hour 3 50 
 Of my revenge, first sought for, thou return'st 
 From flight, seditious Angel ! to receive 
 Thy merited reward, the first assay
 
 BOOK VI. 151 
 
 Of this right hand provok'd, since first that tongue, 154 
 
 Inspir'd 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 comest 
 
 Before thy fellows, ambitious to win 160 
 
 From me some plume, that thy 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, train'd 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. 170 
 
 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 clepravest it with the name 
 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, iso 
 
 Thyself not free, but to thyself enthrall'd ; 
 Yet lewdly darest 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,
 
 152 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 From me return'd, as erst thou saidst, from flight. 187 
 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 upstaid ; 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 seized 
 The rebel Thrones, but greater rage to see 199 
 
 Thus foiTd their mightiest ; ours joy fill'd, and shout, 
 Presage of victory, and fierce desire 
 Of battle : Whereat Michael bid sound 
 The Arch-Angel trumpet ; through the vast of Heaven 
 It sounded, and the faithful armies rung 
 Hosanna to the Highest : Nor stood at gaze 
 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 210 
 
 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 center shook. What wonder ? when
 
 BOOK VI. 153 
 
 Millions of fierce encountering Angels fought 220 
 
 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 his stronghold of Heaven, high overrul'd 
 
 And limited their might ; though number'd such 
 
 As each divided legion might have seem'd 
 
 A numerous host ; in strength each armed band 
 
 A legion ; led in fight, yet leader seem'd 230 
 
 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, 
 
 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 240 
 
 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 250 
 
 Squadrons at once ; with huge two-handed sway 
 
 Brandish'd aloft, the horrid edge came down 
 
 Wide-wasting; such destruction to withstand
 
 154 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 He hasted, and opposed the rocky orb 254 
 
 Of tenfold adamant, his ample shield, 
 A vast circumference. At his approach 
 The great Arch- Angel from his warlike toil 
 Surceased, and glad, as hoping here to end 
 Intestine war in Heaven, the arch-foe subdued 
 Or captive dragg'd in chains, with hostile frown 269 
 
 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 disturbed 
 Heaven's blessed peace, and into nature brought 
 Misery, uncreated till the crime 
 Of thy rebellion! how hast thou instill'd 
 Thy inalice into thousands, once upright 270 
 
 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. 280 
 
 So spake the Prince of Angels ; to whom thus 
 The Adversary : Nor think thou with wind 
 Of aery 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 
 That thou shouldst hope, imperious, and with threats
 
 BOOK VI. 155 
 
 To chase me hence 1 err not, that so shall end 2ss 
 
 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 nam'd Almighty to thy aid, 
 
 I fly not, but have sought thee far and nigh. 
 
 They ended parle, and both address'd for fight 
 Unspeakable ; for who, though with the tongue 
 Of Angels, can relate, or to what things 
 Liken on earth conspicuous, that may lift 
 Human imagination to such highth 300 
 
 Of Godlike power % for likest Gods they seem'd, 
 Stood they or mov'd, in stature, motion, arms, 
 Fit to decide the empire of great Heaven. 
 Now wav'd 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 retir'd 
 Where erst was thickest fight, the angelick throng, 
 And left large field, unsafe within the wind 
 Of such commotion ; such as to set forth 310 
 
 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 320 
 
 Of Michael from the armoury of God
 
 156 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Was given him temper'd so, that neither keen 322 
 
 Nor solid might resist that edge : it met 
 
 The sword of Satan, with steep force to smite 
 
 Descending, and in half cut sheer; nor staid, 
 
 But, with swift wheel reverse, deep entering shar'd 
 
 All his right side : Then Satan first knew pain, 
 
 And writh'd him to and fro convolv'd ; so sore 
 
 The gridiug 1 sword with discontinuous 2 wound 
 
 Pass'cl through him : But the ethereal substance clos'd, 
 
 Not long divisible ; and from the gash 331 
 
 A stream of nectarous humour issuing fiow'd 
 
 Sanguine, such as celestial Spirits may bleed, 
 
 And all his armour stain'd, erewhile so bright. 
 
 Forthwith on all sides to his aid was run 
 
 By Angels many and strong, who interpos'd 
 
 Defence, while others bore him on their shields 
 
 Back to his chariot, where it stood retir'd 
 
 From off the files of war : There they him laid 
 
 Gnashing for anguish, and despite, and shame, 340 
 
 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, 350 
 
 All intellect, all sense ; and, as they please, 
 
 They limb themselves, and colour, shape, or size 
 
 Assume, as likes them best, condense or rare. 
 
 "Griding:' cutting.— 2 ' Discontinuous :' separating the contiuuity of the 
 parts.
 
 BOOK VI. 157 
 
 Meanwhile, in other parts, like deeds desery'd 354 
 Memorial, where the might of Gabriel fought, 
 And with fierce ensigns pierc'd 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 360 
 
 Down cloven to the waist, with shatter'd arms 
 And uncouth pain fled bellowing. On each wing 
 Uriel and Raphael, his vaunting foe, 
 Though, huge and in a rock of diamond arm'd, 
 
 DO ' 
 
 Vanquished Adramelech and Asmadai, 1 
 
 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 mail. 
 
 Nor stood unmindful Abdiel to annoy 
 
 The atheist crew, but with redoubled blow 370 
 
 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 wonderous 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, 38 o 
 
 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. 
 
 And now, their mightiest quell'd, the battle swerv'd, 
 
 1 ' Adramelech,' 'Asmadai :' idols afterwards of Samaria.
 
 158 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 "With many an inroad gor'd ; deformed rout 3S7 
 
 Enter'd, and foul disorder ; all the ground 
 
 With shiver'd armour strown, and on a heap 
 
 Chariot and charioteer lay overturn'd, 
 
 And fiery-foaming steeds ; what stood, recoil'd 
 
 O'er-wearied, through the faint Satanick host 
 
 Defensive scarce, or with pale fear surpris'd, 
 
 Then first with fear surpris'd, 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 cubick phalanx firm, advanc'd entire. 
 
 Invulnerable, impenetrably arm'd ; 400 
 
 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 
 
 By wound, though from their place by violence mov'd. 
 
 Now Night her course began, and, over Heaven 
 Inducing darkness, grateful truce impos'd, 
 And silence on the odious din of war : 
 Under her cloudy covert both retir'd, 
 Victor and vanquish'd : On the foughten field 410 
 
 Michael and his Angels prevalent 
 Encamping, plac'd in guard their watches round, 
 Cherubick waving fires : On the other part, 
 Satan with his rebellious disappear'd, 
 Far in the dark dislodged ; 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,
 
 BOOK YI. 159 
 
 Too mean pretence ! but, what we more affect, 421 
 
 Honour, dominion, glory, and renown ; 
 
 Who have sustain'd 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 judg'd 
 
 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, 430 
 
 Some disadvantage we endur'd 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 pierc'd 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, 440 
 
 Or equal what between us made the odds, 
 
 In nature none : If other hidden cause 
 
 Left them superiour, 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, 1 of Principalities the prime ; 
 As one he stood escap'd from cruel fight, 
 Sore toil'd, his riven arms to havock hewn, 
 And, cloudy in aspect, thus answering spake. 450 
 
 Deliverer from new lords, leader to free 
 Enjoyment of our rights as gods ; yet hard 
 For gods, and too unequal work we find, 
 
 1 ' Nisroch :' god of the Assyrians ; see 2 Kings xix. 37.
 
 160 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Against unequal arms to fight in pain, 4 ^4 
 
 Against unpain'd, impassive ; from which evil 
 
 Ruin must needs ensue : for what avails 
 
 Valour or strength, though matchless, quell'd with pain 
 
 Which all subdues, and makes remiss the hands 
 
 Of mightiest % Sense of pleasure we may well 
 
 Spare out of life perhaps, and not repine, 4«o 
 
 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. 
 
 Yfhereto, with look compos'd, Satan replied : 
 Not uninvented that, which thou aright 470 
 
 Believ'st 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 spiritous and fiery spume, till, touch'd 
 With Heaven's ray, and temper'd, they shoot forth 4 80 
 So beauteous, opening to the ambient light 1 
 These in their dark nativity the deep 
 Shall yield us, pregnant with infernal flame ; 
 Which, into hollow engines, long and round, 
 Thick-ramm'd, at the other bore with touch of fire 
 Dilated and infuriate, shall send forth 
 Vom far, with thundering noise, among our foes,
 
 BOOK VI. 161 
 
 Sucli implements of mischief, as shall clash 488 
 
 To pieces, and o'erwhelin 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 languished hope reviv'd. 
 The invention all admired, and each how he 
 To be the inventor miss'd ; so easy it seem'd 499 
 
 Once found, which yet unfound most would have thought 
 Impossible : Yet, haply, of thy race 
 In future days, if malice should abound, 
 Some one intent on mischief, or inspir'd 
 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 turn'd 
 Wide the celestial soil, and saw beneath 5io 
 
 The originals of nature in their crude 
 Conception : sulphurous and nitrous foam 
 They found, they mingled, and with subtle art, 
 Concocted and adjusted, they reduc'd 
 To blackest grain, and into store convey'd : 
 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 of fire. 520 
 
 So all ere day-spring, under conscious night 
 
 L
 
 1G2 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Secret they finished, and in order set, 522 
 
 With silent circumspection, unespied. 
 
 Now when fair morn orient in Heaven appear'd, 
 Up rose the Victor- Angels, and to arms 
 The matin trumpet sung : In arms they stood 
 Of golden panoply, refulgent host, 
 Soon banded : others from the dawning hills 
 Look round, and scouts each coast light-armed scour, 
 Each quarter to descry the distant foe, 530 
 
 Where lodg'd, or whither fled, or if for fight, 
 In motion or in halt : Him soon they met 
 Under spread ensigns moving nigh, iu slow 
 But firm battallion : back with speediest sail 
 Zophicl, 1 of Cherubim the swiftest wing, 
 Came flying, and in mid-air aloud thus cried. 
 
 Arm, Warriours, 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 540 
 
 Sad resolution, and secure : Let each 
 His adamantine coat gird well, and each 
 Fit well his helm, gripe fast his orbed shield, 
 Borne even or high ; for this day will pour down, 
 If I conjecture aught, no drizzling shower, 
 But rattling storms of arrows barb'd with fire. 
 
 So warn'd he them, aware themselves, and soon 
 In order, quit of all impediment ; 
 Instant without disturb they took alarm, 
 And onward mov'd embattled : When, behold ! 550 
 Not distant far with heavy pace the foe 
 Approaching gross and huge, in hollow cube 
 Training his devilish enginery, impal'd 
 On every side with shadowing squadrons deep 
 
 1 4 Zophiel :' meaning in Hebrew, the Spy of God.
 
 BOOK VI. 163 
 
 To bide the fraud. At interview both stood 555 
 
 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, 560 
 
 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 : 570 
 
 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'd bodies made of oak or fir, 
 With branches lopt, in wood or mountain fell'd,) 
 Brass, iron, stony mould, had not their mouths 
 With hideous orifice gaped on us wide, 
 Portending hollow truce : At each behind 
 A Seraph stood, and in his hand a reed 
 Stood waving tipt with fire ; while we, suspense, 58 
 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 obscur'd with smoke, all Heaven appear'd, 
 From those deep-throated engines belch'd, whose roar 
 Embowell'd with outrageous noise the air, 
 And all her entrails tore, disgorging foul
 
 164 PAEADISE LOST. 
 
 Their devilish glut, chain'd thunderbolts and hail 589 
 
 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 Arch-Angel 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 ; 
 
 ]\ T or served it to relax their serried files. 
 
 What should they do % if on they rush'd, repulse coo 
 
 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, 
 
 And to his mates thus in derision call'd : 
 
 Friends ! why come not on these victors proud ? 
 Ere while they fierce were coming ; and when we, 6io 
 To entertain them fair with open front 
 And breast (what could we more ?) propounded terms 
 Of composition, straight they chang'd their minds, 
 Flew off, and into strange vagaries fell, 
 As they would dance ; yet for a dance they seem'd 
 Somewhat extravagant and wild ; perhaps 
 For joy of offer'd 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. 620 
 Leader ! the terms we sent were terms of weight, 
 Of hard contents, and full of force urg'd home ;
 
 BOOK VI. 1G5 
 
 Such as we might perceive amus'd them all, 623 
 
 And stumbled many : Who receives them right, 
 Had need from head to foot well understand ; 
 Not understood, this gift they have besides, 
 They show us when our foes walk not upright. 
 So they among themselves in pleasant vein 
 Stood scoffing, highten d in their thoughts beyond 
 All doubt of victory : Eternal Might 630 
 
 To match with their inventions they presum'd 
 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 arms 
 Against such hellish mischief fit to oppose. 
 Forthwith (behold the excellence, the power, 
 Which God hath in his mighty Angels plac'd !) 
 Their arms away they threw, and to the hills 
 (For Earth had this variety from Heaven 640 
 
 Of pleasure situate in hill and dale,) 
 Light as the lightning glimpse they ran, they flew ; 
 From their foundations loosening to 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 terrour seiz'd the rebel host, 
 When, coming towards them so dread they saw 
 The bottom of the mountains upward turn'd ; 
 Till on those cursed engines' triple row 650 
 
 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, crush'd in and bruis'd
 
 166 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Into their substance pent, which wrought them pain 657 
 
 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, 
 
 Hurl'd to and fro with jaculation dire : 
 
 That underground 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 
 
 Had gone to wrack, with ruin overspread ; cto 
 
 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, advis'd: 
 
 That his great purpose he might so fulfil, 
 
 To honour his anointed Son aveng'd 
 
 Upon his enemies, and to declare 
 
 All power on him transferr'd : Whence to his Son, 
 
 The Assessour 1 of his throne, he thus began. 
 
 Effulgence of my glory, Son bclov'd, 68 ° 
 
 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 past, 
 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 
 
 ' ' Assessour : ' i. e., seated with him on the throne.
 
 BOOK VI. If 7, 
 
 Equal in their creation they were form'd, (m 
 
 Save what sin hath impair'd ; which yet hath wrought 
 
 Insensibly, for I suspend their doom ; 
 
 Whence in perpetual fight they needs must last 
 
 Endless, and no solution will be found : 
 
 War wearied hath performed what war can do, 
 
 And to disorder'd rage let loose the reins, 
 
 With mountains, as with weapons, arm'd ; which makes 
 
 Wild work in Heaven, and dangerous to the main. 
 
 Two days are therefore past, the third is thine : 
 
 For thee I have ordain'd it, and thus far 700 
 
 Have suffer'd, that the glory may 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 govern'd 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 ; 7io 
 
 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 720 
 
 Ineffably into his face received ; 
 And thus the Filial Godhead answering spake. 
 
 Father, Supreme of heavenly Thrones,
 
 168 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 First, Highest, Holiest, Best ; thou always seek'st 724 
 
 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 pleas'd, declarest thy will 
 
 FulfilTd, which to fulfil is all my bliss. 
 
 Scepter and power, thy giving, I assume, 730 
 
 And gladlier shall resign, when in the end 
 
 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 terrours, 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, 740 
 
 Whom to obey is happiness entire. 
 
 Then shall thy Saints unmix'd, and from the impure 
 Far separate, circling thy holy mount, 
 Unfeigned Halleluiahs to thee sing, 
 Hymns of high praise, and I among them Chief. 
 
 So said, he, o'er his scepter 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 whirlwind sound 
 The chariot of Paternal Deity, 7 50 
 
 Flashing thick flames, wheel within wheel undrawn, 
 Itself instinct with Spirit, but convoy'd 
 By four Chcrubick shapes : four faces each 
 Had wouderous ; as with stars, their bodies all 
 And wings were set with eyes ; with eyes the wheels 1 
 
 1 • Wheels :' see Ezekicl.
 
 BOOK VI. 169 
 
 Of beryl, and careering fires between ; 756 
 
 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, 2 work divinely wrought, 
 
 Ascended : at his right hand Victory 
 
 Sat eagle-wing'd ; beside him hung his bow 
 
 And quiver with three-bolted thunder stor'd ; 
 
 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 ; 770 
 
 He on the wings of Cherub rode sublime 
 
 On the crystalline sky ; in sapphire thron'd, 
 
 Illustrious far and wide : but by his own 
 
 First seen ; Then unexpected joy surpris'd, 
 
 When the great ensign of Messiah blaz'd 
 
 Aloft, by Angels borne, his sign in Heaven ; 
 
 Under whose conduct Michael soon reduc'd 
 
 His army, circumfus'd on either wing, 
 
 Under their Head imbodied all in one. 
 
 Before him Power Divine his way prepar'd ; 780 
 
 At his command the uprooted hills retir'd, 
 
 Each to his place ; they heard his voice, and went 
 
 Obsequious ; Heaven his wonted face renew'd, 
 
 And with fresh flow'rets hill and valley smil'd. 
 
 This saw his hapless foes, but stood obdur'd, 
 
 And to rebellious fight rallied their Powers, 
 
 Insensate, hope conceiving from despair. 
 
 1 ' Crystal firmament : ' the l terrible crystal' of Ezekiel— 2 ' Urim :' referring 
 to the stones of mystic import on the high priest's breast.
 
 1 70 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 In heavenly Spirits could such perverseness dwell % 788 
 
 But to convince the proud what signs avail, 
 
 Or wonders move the obdurate to relent % 
 
 They, harden'd more by what might most reclaim, 
 
 Grieving to see his glory, at the sight 
 
 Took envy ; and, aspiring to his highth, 
 
 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 last ; 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. 800 
 
 Stand still in bright array, ye Saints, here stand, 
 Ye Angels arin'd ; this day from battle rest : 
 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 8io 
 
 God's indignation on these godless pour'd 
 By me ; not you, but me, they have despis'd, 
 Yet envied ; against me is all their rage, 
 Because the Father, to whom in Heaven supreme 
 Kingdom, and power, and glory appertains, 
 Hath honour'd 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 820 
 
 They measure all, of other excellence
 
 BOOK VI. 171 
 
 Not emulous, nor care who them excels ; 822 
 
 Nor other strife with them do I vouchsafe. 
 
 So spake the Son, and into terrour chang'd 
 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. 830 
 
 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 dropt : 
 O'er shields, and helms, and helmed heads he rode 840 
 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-visaged Four 
 Distinct with eyes, and from the living wheels 
 Distinct alike with multitude of*eyes ; 
 One Spirit in them ruled ; and every eye 
 Glar'd lightning, and shot forth pernicious fire 
 Among the accurs'd, that withered all their strength, 850 
 And of their wonted vigour left them drain'd, 
 Exhausted, spiritless, afflicted, fallen. 
 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 :
 
 172 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 The overthrown he raised, and as a herd S56 
 
 Of goats or timorous flock together throng'd, 
 Drove them before him thunder-struck, pursued 
 With terrours 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 horrour backward, but far worse 
 Urg'd them behind : Headlong themselves they threw 
 Down from the verge of Heaven ; eternal wrath 
 Burnt after them to the bottomless pit. 
 
 Hell heard the unsufferable 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. s:o 
 
 Nine days they fell : Confounded Chaos roar'd, 
 And felt tenfold confusion in their fall 
 Through his wild anarchy, so huge a rout 
 Incumber'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. 
 Disburden'd Heaven rejoic'd, and soon repair'd 
 Her mural breach, returning whence it roll'd. 
 Sole Victor, from the expulsion of his foes, 880 
 
 Messiah his triumphal chariot turn'd : 
 To meet him all his Saints, who silent stood 
 Eye-witnesses of his almighty acts, 
 With jubilee advane'd ; and, as they went, 
 Shaded with branching palm, each order bright, 
 Sung triumph, and him sung victorious King, 
 Son, Heir, and Lord, to him dominion given, 
 Worthiest to reign : He, celebrated, rode 
 Triumphant through mid Heaven, into the courts
 
 BOOK VI. 1 73 
 
 And temple of his Mighty Father thron'd 890 
 
 On high ; who into glory him receiv'd, 
 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 Angelick Powers, and the deep fall 
 Of those too high aspiring who rebell'd 
 With Satan ; he who envies now thy state, soo 
 
 Who now is plotting how he may seduce 
 Thee also from obedience, that, with him, 
 Bereav'd 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. 912
 
 BOOK VII. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 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 
 perform the work of creation in six days : the angels celebrate with hymns 
 the performance thereof, and his re-ascension into heaven. 
 
 Descend from heaven, Urania, 1 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 10 
 
 In presence of the Almighty Father, pleas'd 
 
 With thy celestial song. Up led by thee 
 
 Into the Heaven of Heavens I have presum'd, 
 
 An earthly guest, and drawn empyreal air, 
 
 Thy tempering : with like safety guided down, 
 
 Return me to my native element : 
 
 Lest, from this flying steed unrein'd (as once 
 
 Bellerophon, 2 though from a lower clime), 
 
 Dismounted, on the Aleian field I fall, 
 
 Erroneous there to wander, and forlorn. 
 
 1 ' Urania : ' heavenly muse. — - ' Bellerophon, 1 who attempted to ride to 
 heaven on Pegasus, but fell down on the Aleian field, where he wandered till 
 he died.
 
 BOOK VII. 175 
 
 Half yet remains unsung, but narrower bound 21 
 
 Within the visible diurnal sphere ; 
 
 Standing on earth, not rapt above the pole, 
 
 More safe I sing with mortal voice, unchang'd 
 
 To hoarse or mute, though fallen on evil days, 
 
 On evil days though fallen, 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, so 
 
 Urania, and fit audience find, though few. 
 
 But drive far off the barbarous dissonance 
 
 Of Bacchus and his revellers, the race 
 
 Of that wild rout that tore the Thracian bard 1 
 
 In Rhodope, 2 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, 40 
 
 The affable Arch- Angel, had forewarned 
 Adam, by dire example, to beware 
 Apostasy, by what befell in Heaven 
 To those apostates ; lest the like befall 
 In Paradise to Adam or his race, 
 Charge 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, so 
 The story heard attentive, and was filled 
 With admiration, and deep muse, to hear 
 Of things so high and strange ; things to their thought 
 
 2 ' Thracian bard : ' Orpheus. — 2 ' Rhodope : ' a mountain in Thrace.
 
 176 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 So unimaginable, as hate in Heaven, 54 
 
 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 60 
 
 Led on, jet 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 drouth 
 
 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, 70 
 
 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 sovran will, the end 
 Of what we are. But since thou hast vouchsaf d 80 
 Gently, for our instruction, to impart 
 Things above earthly thought, which yet concern'd 
 Our knowing, as to highest wisdom seem'd, 
 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
 
 BOOK VII. 177 
 
 Innumerable ; and this -which yields or fills 88 
 
 All space, the ambient air wide interfus'd 
 
 Embracing round this florid earth ; what cause 
 
 Mov'd the Creator, in his holy rest 
 
 Through all eternity, so late to build 
 
 In Chaos ; and the work begun, how soon 
 
 Absolved ; 1 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 
 
 Much of his race though steep ; suspense in Heaven 
 
 Held by thy voice, thy potent voice, he hears, 100 
 
 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. no 
 
 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 % 
 Yet what thou canst 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 
 
 1 ' Absolved : ' finished. 
 H
 
 1 78 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 To ask ; nor let thine own inventions hope i 21 
 
 Things not reveal'd, which 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. J30 
 
 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 return'd 
 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 no 
 
 This inaccessible high strength, the seat 
 Of Deity supreme, us dispossess'd, 
 He trusted to have seiz'd, and into fraud 
 Drew many, whom their place kn^ws here no more : 
 Yet far the greater part have kept, I see, 
 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 15 ° 
 
 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
 
 BOOK VII. 179 
 
 Another world, out of one man a race 155 
 
 Of men innumerable, there to dwell, 
 
 Not here ; till, bj degrees of merit raised, 
 
 Thej open to themselves at length the waj 
 
 Up hither, under long obedience tried ; 
 
 And Earth be chang'd to Heaven, and Heaven to Earth. 
 
 One kingdom, joy and union without end. 161 
 
 Meanwhile inhabit lax, 1 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, uncircumscrib'd myself, retire, 17 ° 
 
 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 
 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, 180 
 
 When such was heard declar'd 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 
 
 1 ' Inhabit lax :' i. e., dwell more at large.
 
 180 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Good out of evil to create ; instead 188 
 
 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 
 Cherub, and Seraph, Potentates, and Thrones, 
 And Virtues, winged Spirits, and chariots wing'd 
 From the armoury of God ; where stand of old 200 
 
 Myriads, between two brazen mountains lodg'd 
 Against a solemn day, harness'd at hand, 
 Celestial equipage ; and now came forth 
 Spontaneous, for within them Spirit liv'd, 
 Attendant on their Lord : Heaven open'd wide 
 Her ever-during gates, harmonious sound 
 On golden hinges moving, to let forth 
 The King of Glory, in his powerful Word 
 And Spirit, coming to create new worlds. 
 On heavenly ground they stood; and from the shore 210 
 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 highth, and with the center mix the pole. 
 
 Silence, ye troubled Waves, and thou Deep, peace, 
 Said then the Omnifick Word; your discord end! 
 Nor staid ; but on the wings of Cherubim 
 Uplifted, in paternal glory rode 
 
 Far into Chaos, and the world unborn ; 220 
 
 For Chaos heard his voice : Him all his train
 
 BOOK VII. 181 
 
 Followed in bright procession, to behold 222 
 
 Creation, and the wonders of his might. 
 
 Then staid the fervid wheels, and in his hand 
 
 He took the golden compasses, prepar'd 
 
 In God's eternal store, to circumscribe 
 
 This universe, and all created things : 
 
 One foot he center'd, and the other turn'd 
 
 Round through the vast profundity obscure ; 
 
 And said, Thus far extend, thus far thy bounds, 230 
 
 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 infus'd, and vital warmth, 
 
 Throughout the fluid mass : but downward purg'd 
 
 The black tartareous cold infernal dregs, 
 
 Adverse to life : then founded, then conglob'd 
 
 Like things to like ; the rest to several place 240 
 
 Disparted, and between spun out the air ; 
 
 And Earth self-balanced on her center hung. 
 
 Let there be light, said God; and forthwith Light 
 Ethereal, first of things, quintessence pure, 
 Sprung from the deep ; and from her native east 
 To journey through the aery gloom began, 
 Spher'd 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 250 
 
 Divided : light the Day, and darkness Night, 
 He nam'd. 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;
 
 182 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Birth-day of Heaven and Earth ; with joy and shout 
 The hollow universal orb they fill'd, 257 
 
 And touch'd their golden harps, and hymning prais'd 
 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 
 Dividing ; for as earth, so he the world 
 Built on circumfluous waters calm, in wide 270 
 
 Crystalline ocean, and the loud misrule 
 Of Chaos far remov'd ; lest fierce extremes 
 Contiguous might distemper the whole frame : 
 And Heaven he named 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 involv'd, 
 Appear'd not: over all the face of Earth 
 Main ocean flow'd, not idle ; but, with warm 
 Prolifick humour softening all her globe, 280 
 
 Fermented the great mother to conceive, 
 Satiate with genial moisture ; when God said, 
 Be gather'd 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 hcavd the tumid hills, so low 
 Down sunk a hollow bottom broad and deep,
 
 BOOK VII. 183 
 
 Capacious bed of waters : Thither they 290 
 
 Hasted 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'd 
 
 On the swift floods : As armies at the call 
 
 Of trumpet (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, 
 
 Soft-ebbing ; nor withstood them rock or hill ; 300 
 
 But they, or under ground, or circuit wide 
 
 With serpent errour 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 called Seas : 
 
 And saw that it was good ; and said, Let the Earth 
 
 Put forth the verdant grass, herb yielding seed, 310 
 
 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, unadorn'd, 
 
 Brought forth the tender grass, whose verdure clad 
 
 Her universal face with pleasant green ; 
 
 Then herbs of every leaf, that sudden flower'd, 
 
 Op'ning their various colours, and made gay 
 
 Her bosom, smelling sweet : and, these scarce blown, 
 
 Forth flourish'd thick the clustering vine, forth crept 320 
 
 The swelling gourd, up stood the corny reed 
 
 Embattled in her field, and the humble shrub,
 
 184 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 And bush with frizzled hair implicit i 1 Last 323 
 
 Rose, as in dance, the stately trees, and spread 
 Their branches hung with copious fruit, or geinm'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 
 Seem'd like to Heaven, a seat where gods might dwell, 
 Or wander with delight, and love to haunt 330 
 
 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 340 
 
 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 use 
 To Man, the greater to have rule by day, 
 The less by night, altera ; and made the stars, 
 And set them in the firmament of Heaven 
 To illuminate the Earth, and rule the day 350 
 
 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 first the sun, 
 A mighty sphere he fram'd, unlightsome first, 
 
 1 'Implicit:' i.e., entangled.
 
 BOOK VII. 185 
 
 Though of ethereal mould : then form'd the moon 356 
 Globose, and every magnitude of stars, 
 And sow'd with stars the Heaven, thick as a field : 
 Of light bj far the greater part he took, 
 Transplanted from her cloudy shrine, and plac'd 
 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, 370 
 
 Regent of day, and all the horizon round 
 Invested with bright rays, jocund to run 
 His longitude through Heaven's high road ; the gray 
 Dawn, and the Pleiades, 1 before him dane'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, 3S0 
 
 Revolv'd on Heaven's great axle, and her reign 
 With thousand lesser lights dividual holds, 
 With thousand thousand stars, that then appear'd 
 Spangling the hemisphere : Then first adorn'd 
 With their bright luminaries that set and rose, 
 Glad evening and glad morn crown'd the fourth day. 
 And God said, Let the waters generate 
 
 1 'The Pleiades:' meaning that the Creation took place in Spring, when they 
 rise.
 
 186 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Reptile with spawn abundant, living soul : 338 
 
 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 
 
 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 and bay, 
 
 With fry innumerable swarm, and shoals ^oo 
 
 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 wav'd coats dropt with gold; 
 
 Or, in their pearly shells at ease, attend 
 
 Moist nutriment ; or under rocks their food 
 
 In jointed armour watch : on smooth the seal 
 
 And bended dolphins play : part huge of bulk 410 
 
 Wallowing unwieldy, enormous in their gait, 
 
 Tempest the ocean : there leviathan, 
 
 Hugest of living creatures, on the deep 
 
 Strctch'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 num'rous hatch'd, from the egg that soon, 
 
 Bursting with kindly rupture forth disclosed 
 
 Their callow young ; but fcather'd soon and fledge
 
 BOOK VII. 187 
 
 The j summ'd their pens j 1 and, soaring the air sublime, 
 
 With clang despis'd the ground, under a cloud 422 
 
 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 aery caravan, high over seas 
 
 Flying, and over lands, with mutual wing 
 
 Easing their flight ; so steers the prudent crane 430 
 
 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 
 
 Solac'd the woods, and spread their painted wings 
 
 Till even ; nor then the solemn nightingale 
 
 Ceas'd warbling, but all night tun'd her soft lays : 
 
 Others, on silver lakes and rivers, bath'd 
 
 Their downy breast ; the swan, with arched neck, 
 
 Between her white wings mantling proudly, rows 
 
 Her state 2 with oary feet ; yet oft they quit 440 
 
 The dank, and, rising on stiff pennons, tower 
 
 The mid aereal 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, 
 
 Ev'ning and morn solemnized the fifth day. 
 
 The sixth, and of creation last, arose 
 With evening harps and matin ; when God said, 450 
 Let the Earth bring forth soul living in her kind, 
 Cattle, and creeping things, and beast of the Earth, 
 
 1 'Summed their pens:' a term in falconry, signifying the full growth of 
 hawks' feathers. — 2 ' State :' t. e., like a barge of state.
 
 188 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Each in their kind. The Earth obey'd, and straight, 
 
 Opening her fertile womb teem'd at a birth 454 
 
 Innumerous living creatures, perfect forms, 
 
 Limb'd and full-grown : Out of the 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 : 4co 
 
 Those rare and solitary, these in flocks 
 
 Pasturing at once, and in broad herds upsprung. 
 
 The grassy clods now calv'd ; 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 469 
 
 Bore up his branching head : Scarce from his mould 
 
 Behemoth, 1 biggest born of earth, upheav'd 
 
 His vastness: Fleec'd the flocks and bleating rose, 
 
 As plants: Ambiguous between sea and laud, 
 
 The river-horse, and scaly crocodile. 
 
 At once came forth whatever creeps the ground, 
 
 Insect or worm: those wav'd 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 dimension drew, 4so 
 
 Streaking the ground with sinuous trace ; not all 
 
 Minims 2 of nature; some of serpent kind, 
 
 Wonderous in length and corpulence, involv'd 
 
 Their snaky folds, and added wings. First crept 
 
 1 'Behemoth: 1 Milton means the elephant. — '"Minims,' i. e., smallest 
 productions.
 
 BOOK VII. 189 
 
 The parsimonious enirnet, provident 4 S5 
 
 Of future ; in small room large heart enclos'd ; 
 
 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 490 
 
 Deliciously, and builds her waxen cells 
 
 With honey stor'd ; The rest are numberless, 
 
 And thou their natures know'st, and gav'st them names, 
 
 Needless to thee repeated ; nor unknown 
 
 The serpent, subtlest beast of all the field, 
 
 Of huge extent sometimes, with brazen eyes 
 
 And hairy mane terrifick, 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 500 
 
 First wheel'd their course : Earth in her rich attire 
 Consummate lovely smil'd ; air, water, earth, 
 By fowl, fish, beast, was flown, was swum, was walk'c 
 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 5io 
 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 
 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.
 
 190 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Let us make now Man in our image, Man 519 
 
 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 breath'd 
 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, 530 
 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 54 o 
 
 Gave thee; all sorts are here that all the Earth yields, 
 Variety without end ; but of the tree 
 "Which, tasted, works knowledge of good and evil, 
 Thou may'st not ; in the day thou eat'st, thou diest; 
 Death is the penalty impos'd ; beware, 
 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 : 550 
 
 Yet not till the Creator, from his work 
 Desisting, though unwearied, up return'd,
 
 BOOK VII. 191 
 
 Up to the Heaven of Heavens, his high abode ; 553 
 
 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 
 
 Angelick harmonies : The earth, the air 560 
 
 Resounded, (thou remember'st, for thou heard'st,) 
 
 The heavens and all the constellations rung, 
 
 The planets in their station listening stood, 
 
 While the bright pomp ascended jubilant. 
 
 Open, ye everlasting gates! thej sung, 
 
 Open, ye Heavens ! jour 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, 570 
 
 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; 
 
 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 580 
 
 Powder'd with stars. And now on Earth the seventh 
 
 Evening arose in Eden, for the sun 
 
 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,
 
 192 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 The Filial Power arrived, and sat him down 537 
 
 With his Great Father ; for he also went 
 
 Invisible, yet staid, (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, intermixed with voice 
 
 Choral or unison : of incense clouds, 
 
 Fuming from golden censers, hid the mount. 600 
 
 Creation and the six days' acts they sung : 
 
 Great are thy works, Jehovah! infinite 
 
 Thy power! what thought can measure thee, or tongue 
 
 Relate thee! Greater now in thy return 
 
 Than from the giant Angels : Thee that day 
 
 Thy thunders magnified; but to create 
 
 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, 610 
 
 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 crcat'st more good. 
 
 Witness this new-made world, another Heaven 
 
 From Heaven-gate not far, founded in view 
 
 On the clear hyaline, 1 the glassy sea; 
 
 1 ■ Hyaline:' translated immediately the glassy sea.
 
 BOOK VII. 193 
 
 Of amplitude almost immense, with stars 620 
 
 Numerous, and every star perhaps a world 
 Of destin'd habitation ; but thou know'st 
 Their seasons : among these the seat of Men, 
 Earth, with her nether ocean circumfus'd, 
 Their pleasant dwelling-place. Thrice happy Men, 
 And sons of Men. whom God hath thus advanc d ! 
 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 630 
 
 Holy and just : Thrice happy, if they know 
 Their happiness, and persevere upright! 
 So sung they, and the empyrean rung 
 With halleluiahs ; Thus was sabbath kept. 
 And thy request think now fulfilled, that ask'd 
 How first this world and face of things began, 
 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. 64 o 
 
 N
 
 BOOK VIII. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Adam inquires concerning celestial motions ; is doubtfully answered, and ex- 
 horted 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 nuptials with Eve; 
 his discourse with the angel thereupon ; who, after admonitions repeated, 
 departs. 
 
 The Angel ended, and in Adam's ear 
 So charming left his voice, that he awhile 
 Thought him still speaking, still stood fix'd to hear; 
 Then, as new-wak'd, thus gratefully replied. 
 
 What thanks sufficient, or what recompence 
 Equal, have I to render thee, divine 
 Historian, who thus largely hast allay'd 
 The thirst I had of knowledge, and vouchsaf'd 
 This friendly condescension to relate 
 Things, else by me unsearchable; now heard 10 
 
 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. 
 
 AVlicn 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 numbered stars, that Beem to roll 
 Spaces incomprehensible, (for such 20 
 
 Their distance argues, and their swift return 
 Diurnal,) merely to officiate light
 
 BOOK VIII. 195 
 
 Round this opacous Earth, this punctual spot, 1 23 
 
 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 30 
 
 Such restless revolution day by day 
 
 Repeated; while the sedentary Earth, 
 
 That better might with far less compass move, 
 
 Serv'd 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 40 
 Perceiving, where she sat retir'd 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, 50 
 
 Adam relating, she sole auclitress; 
 Her husband the relater she preferr'd 
 Before the angel, and of him to ask 
 Chose rather : he, she knew, would intermix 
 Grateful digressions, and solve high dispute 
 
 1 ' Punctual spot : ' spot like a point in size.
 
 196 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 With conjugal caresses : from his lip 56 
 
 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 propos'd, 
 
 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 wonderous works, and learn 
 His seasons, hours, or days, or months, or years : 
 This to attain, whether Heaven move or Earth, 70 
 
 Imports not, if thou reckon right ; the rest 
 From Man or Angel the Great Architect 
 Hid 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 fabrick 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 80 
 
 The inighty frame; how build, unbuild, contrive 
 To save appearances; how gird the sphere 
 With centrick and ecccntrick scribbled o'er, 
 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
 
 BOOK VIII. 197 
 
 The benefit : Consider first that great 90 
 
 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 receiv'd, 
 
 His beams, unactive 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 100 
 
 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, no 
 
 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, 
 
 Admitting motion in the Heavens, to show 
 
 Invalid that which thee to doubt it mov'd; 
 
 Not 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, 
 
 Plac'd Heaven from Earth so far, that earthly sight, 120 
 
 If it presume, might err in things too high, 
 
 And no advantage gain. What if the sun 
 
 Be center to the world ; and other stars,
 
 1.98 PAEADISE LOST. 
 
 By his attractive virtue and their own 124 
 
 Incited, dance about him various rounds ? 
 
 Their wandering course, now high, now low, then hid, 
 
 Progressive, retrograde, or standing still, 
 
 In six thou seest ; and what if seventh to these 
 
 The planet earth, so steadfast though she seem, 
 
 Insensibly three different motions move % 130 
 
 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 1 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, 1 40 
 
 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 
 
 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 ; 150 
 
 Which two great sexes animate the world, 
 
 Stor'd in each orb perhaps with some that live. 
 
 For such vast room in Nature unpossess'd 
 
 By living soul, desart, and desolate, 
 
 Only to shine, yet scarce to contribute 
 
 1 'Nocturnal and diurnal rhomb:' tixeprimum mobile — an imaginary sphere 
 above that of the sun and the fixed stars.
 
 BOOK VIII. 1.99 
 
 Each orb a glimpse of light, convey'd so far 156 
 
 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 plac'd, let him dispose ; joy thou 170 
 
 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 ; 
 
 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 iso 
 
 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 vain. 
 But apt the mind or fancy is to rove 
 Uncheck'd, and of her roving is no end ;
 
 200 TAIUDISE LOST. 
 
 Till warn'd, or by experience taught, she learn, 190 
 
 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, 
 
 Unpractis'd, unprepar'd, 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 200 
 
 Of something not unseasonable 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; 
 
 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 ; 210 
 
 And sweeter thy discourse is to my ear 
 
 Than fruits of palm-tree plcasantest 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 ineloqucnt ; for God on thee 
 Abundantly his gifts hath also pour'd ; 220 
 
 Inward and outward both, his image fair : 
 Speaking ; or mute, all comeliness and grace 
 Attends thee, and each word, each motion forms ;
 
 BOOK VIII. 201 
 
 Nor less think we in Heaven of thee on Earth 224 
 
 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, 230 
 
 Far on excursion towards the gates of Hell : 
 
 Squar'd 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 
 
 For state, as Sovran King; and to inure 
 
 Our prompt obedience. Fast we found, fast shut, 240 
 
 The dismal gates, and barricado'd 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 returned up to the coasts of light 
 
 Ere sabbath evening : so we had in charge. 
 
 But thy relation now ; for I attend, 
 
 Pleas'd with thy words no less than thou with mine. 
 
 So spake the Godlike Power, and thus our Sire. 
 For Man to tell how human life began 250 
 
 Is hard ; for who himself beginning knew? 
 Desire with thee still longer to converse 
 Induc'd me. As new wak'd 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
 
 202 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 And gaz'd awhile the ample sky ; till rais'd 258 
 
 By quick instinctive motion, up I spniDg, 
 
 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 liv'd and mov'd, and walk'd or flew ; 
 
 Birds on the branches warbling ; all things smiFd 
 
 With fragrance, and with joy my heart o'erflow'd. 
 
 Myself I then perus'd, and limb by limb 
 
 Survey 'd; and sometimes went, and sometimes ran 
 
 With supple joints, as lively vigour led: 
 
 But who I was, or where, or from what cause, 270 
 
 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 ? — 
 
 Not of myself; — by some great Maker then, 
 
 In goodness and in power pre-eminent : 
 
 Tell me, how I may know Him, how adore, 280 
 
 From whom I have that thus I move and live, 
 
 And feel that I am happier than I know. — 
 
 While thus I call'd, and stray 'd I knew not whither, 
 
 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 1 sat me down : There gentle sleep 
 
 First found me, and with soft oppression seiz'd 
 
 My drowsed sense, untroubled, though I thought 
 
 I then was passing to my former state, 290 
 
 Insensible, and forthwith to dissolve :
 
 BOOK VIII. 203 
 
 When suddenly stood at my head a dream, 292 
 
 Whose inward apparition gently moved 
 
 My fancy to be Key e I yet had being, 
 
 And liv'd : One came, methought, of shape divine, 
 
 And said, " Thy mansion wants thee, Adam ; rise, 
 
 First Man, of men innumerable ordain'd 
 
 First Father ! call'd by thee, I come thy guide 
 
 To the garden of bliss, thy seat prepar'd." 
 
 So saying, by the hand he took me rais'd, 300 
 
 And over fields and w r aters, as in air, 
 
 Smooth-sliding without step, last led me up 
 
 A woody mountain ; whose high top was plain, 
 
 A circuit wide, enclos'd, with goodliest trees 
 
 Planted, with walks and bowers ; that what I saw 
 
 Of Earth before scarce pleasant seem'd. Each tree, 
 
 Loaden with fairest fruit that hung to the eye 
 
 Tempting, stirr'd in me sudden appetite 
 
 To pluck and eat ; whereat I wak'd, and found 
 
 Before mine eyes all real, as the dream 310 
 
 Had lively shadow'd : Here had new begun 
 
 My wandering, had not He, who was my guide 
 
 Up hither, from among the trees appeared, 
 
 Presence Divine. Rejoicing, but with awe, 
 
 In adoration at his feet I fell 
 
 Submiss; He rear'd me, and, "Whom thou sought'st I am," 
 
 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 : 320 
 
 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,
 
 204 PAKADISE LOST. 
 
 Amid the garden and the tree of life, 326 
 
 Remember what I warn thee, shun to taste, 
 
 And shun the bitter consequence : for know, 
 
 The day thou eat'st thereof, mj sole command 
 
 Transgress'd, inevitably thou shalt die, 
 
 From that day mortal ; and this happy state 
 
 Shalt lose, expell'd from hence into a world 
 
 Of woe and sorrow." Sternly He pronoune'd 
 
 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, 340 
 
 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, 
 
 Nor 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 350 
 
 With blandishment ; each bird stoop'd on his wing. 
 
 I nam'd 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 presum'd. 
 
 0, by what name, for Thou above all these, 
 Above mankind, or aught than mankind higher, 
 Surpassest far my naming ; how may I
 
 BOOK VIII. 205 
 
 Adore Thee, Author of this universe, 360 
 
 And all this good to man ? for whose wellbeing 
 
 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, 370 
 
 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 implor'd, 
 And humble deprecation, thus replied. 
 
 Let not my words offend Thee, Heavenly Power ; 
 My Maker, be propitious while I speak. 380 
 
 Hast thou not made me here thy substitute, 
 And these inferiour far beneath me set? 
 Among unequals what society 
 Can sort, what harmony, or true delight? 
 Which must be mutual, in proportion due 
 Given and receiv'd ; 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 390 
 
 All rational delight; wherein the brute 
 Cannot be human consort : They rejoice 
 Each with their kind, lion with lioness;
 
 206 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 So fitly them in pairs thou hast combin'd : 394 
 
 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 displeas'd. 
 A nice and subtle happiness, I see, 
 Thou to thyself proposest, in the choice 400 
 
 Of thy associates, Adam ! and wilt taste 
 No pleasure, though in pleasure, solitary. 
 What think'st thou, then, of me, and this my state 1 
 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 inferiour, infinite descents 410 
 
 Beneath what other creatures are to thee % 
 
 He ceas'd ; I lowly answer'd. To attain 
 The highth 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; 420 
 
 And through all numbers absolute, though One : 
 But Man by number is to manifest 
 His single imperfection, and beget 
 Like of his like, his image multiplied, 
 In unity defective; which requires 
 Collateral love, and dearest amity. 
 Thou in Thy secrecy although alone,
 
 BOOK VIII. 207 
 
 Best with Thyself accompanied, seek'st not 428 
 
 Social communication; jet, so pleas'd, 
 
 Canst raise Thy creature to what highth Thou wilt 
 
 Of union or communion, deified : 
 
 I, by conversing, cannot these erect 
 
 From prone ; nor in their ways complacence find. 
 
 Thus I embolden'd 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 pleas'd ; 
 And find thee knowing, not of beasts alone, 
 Which thou hast rightly named, but of thyself; 
 Expressing well the spirit within thee free, 440 
 
 My image, not imparted to the brute ; 
 Whose fellowship therefore unmeet for thee, 
 Good reason was thou freely should'st dislike ; 
 And be so minded still: I, ere thou spakest, 
 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 assur'd, 
 Thy likeness, thy fit help, thy other self, 460 
 
 Thy wish exactly to thy heart's desire. 
 
 He ended, or I heard no more ; for now 
 My earthly by his heavenly overpower'd, 
 Which it had long stood under, strain'd to the highth 
 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 clos'd mine eyes. 
 Mine eyes he clos'd, but open left the cell 460 
 
 Of fancy, my internal sight ; by which,
 
 208 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Abstract as in a trance, methought I saw, 462 
 
 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, 470 
 
 Man-like, 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 infus'd 
 
 Sweetness into my heart, unfelt before, 
 
 And into all things from her air inspir'd 
 
 The spirit of love and amorous delight. 
 
 She disappeared, and left me dark : I wak'd 
 
 To find her, or for ever to deplore 
 
 Her loss, and other pleasures all abjure : 480 
 
 When out of hope, behold 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, 
 
 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 : 490 
 
 This turn hath made amends : Thou hast fulfill'd 
 Thy words, Creator bounteous and benign, 
 Giver of all things fair ! but fairest this 
 Of all thy gifts ! nor envicst. I now see 
 Bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh, myself
 
 BOOK VIII. 209 
 
 Before me : "Woman is her name ; of Man 496 
 
 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 brought, 
 Yet innocence, and virgin modesty, 
 Her virtue, and the conscience of her worth, 
 That would be woo'd, and not unsought be won, 
 Not obvious, not obtrusive, but, retir'd, 
 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 510 
 
 I led her blushing like the morn : All heaven, 
 And happy constellations, on that hour 
 Shed their selectest influence ; the Earth 
 Gave sign of gratulation, and each hill ; 
 Joyous the birds; fresh gales and gentle airs 
 Whisper'd it to the woods, and from their wings 
 Flung rose, flung odours from the spicy shrub, 
 Disporting, till the amorous bird of night 
 Sung spousal, and bade haste the evening star 
 On his hill-top, to light the bridal lamp. 520 
 
 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, us'd or not, works in the mind no change, 
 Nor vehement desire ; these delicacies, 
 I mean, of taste, sight, smell, herbs, fruits, and flowers, 
 Walks, and the melody of birds ; but here 
 Far otherwise, transported I behold, 
 

 
 210 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Transported touch; here passion first I felt, 530 
 
 Commotion strange! in all enjoyments else 
 
 Superiour and nninov'd ; 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 inferiour, 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 
 
 And in herself complete, so well to know 
 
 Her own, that what she wills to do or say, 
 
 Seems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best : . l. sso 
 
 All higher knowledge in her presence falls 
 
 Degraded ; Wisdom in discourse with her 
 
 Loses discountenanc'd, 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 angclick plac'd. 
 
 To whom the Angel, with contracted brow. 560 
 
 Accuse not Nature, she hath done her part ; 
 Do thou but thine ; and be not diffident 
 Of Wisdom ; she deserts thee not, if thou
 
 BOOK VIII. 211 
 
 Dismiss not her, when most thou need'st her nigh, 564 
 
 By attributing oyer much to things 
 
 Less excellent, as thou thyself perceiv'st. 
 
 For, what admir st thou, what transports thee so, 
 
 An outside % fair, no doubt, and worthy well 
 
 Thy cherishing, thy honouring, and thy love ; 
 
 Not thy subjection : Weigh with her thyself ; 570 
 
 Then value : Ofttimes nothing profits more 
 
 Than self-esteem, grounded on just and right 
 
 Well manag'd ; 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. 
 
 But if the sense of touch, whereby mankind 
 
 Is propagated, seem such dear delight 5so 
 
 Beyond all other, think the same vouchsaf d 
 
 To cattle and each beast ; which would not be 
 
 To them made common and divulg'd, if aught 
 
 Therein enjoy 'd 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 his seat 590 
 
 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 formed so fair, nor aught 
 In procreation common to all kinds
 
 212 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 (Though higher of the genial bed by far, 598 
 
 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 
 
 Variously representing; yet still free, 61 ° 
 
 Approve the best, and follow what I approve. 
 
 To love, thou blam'st 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 1 by looks only ? or do they mix 
 
 Irradiance, virtual or immediate touch'? 
 
 To whom the Angel, with a smile that glow'd 
 Celestial rosy red, Love's proper hue, 
 Answer'd. Let it suffice thee that thou know'st eso 
 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
 
 BOOK VIII. 213 
 
 Beyond the earth's green Cape 1 and verdant Isles 631 
 
 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 plac'd ; beware ! 
 
 I in thy persevering shall rejoice, 
 
 And all the Blest: Stand fast; to stand or fall 640 
 
 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 
 Follow'd with benediction. Since to part, 
 Go, heavenly Guest, ethereal Messenger, 
 Sent from whose sovran goodness I adore ! 
 Gentle to me and affable hath been 
 Thy condescension, and shall be honour'd ever 
 With grateful memory : Thou to mankind 650 
 
 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. 
 
 1 ' Green Cape : ' Cape de Verd.
 
 6 '- ' 
 
 BOOK IX. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Satan, Laving compassed the earth, with meditated guile returns, as a mist, 
 by night into Paradise ; enters into the serpent sleeping. Adam and Eve 
 in the morning go forth to their labours, which Eve proposes to divide iu 
 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 : bis subtle 
 approach, first gazing, then speaking ; with much flattery extolling Eve 
 above all other creatures. Eve, wondering to hear the serpent speak, asks 
 how he attained to human speech, and such understanding, not till now ; 
 the serpent answers, that by tasting 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 
 forbidden : the serpent, now grown bolder, with many wiles and argu- 
 ments, induces her at length to eat : she, pleased with the taste, deliber- 
 ates a while 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 effects thereof in them both ; they seek to cover their naked- 
 ness ; then fall to variance and accusation of one another. 
 
 No more of talk where God or Angel guest 
 
 With Man, as with his friend, familiar us'd 
 
 To sit indulgent, and with him partake 
 
 Rural repast; permitting him the while 
 
 Venial discourse unblam'd. I now must change 
 
 Those notes to tragick ; 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 judgement given, 10 
 
 That brought into this world a world of woe,
 
 BOOK IX. 215 
 
 Sin and her shadow Death, and Misery, 12 
 
 Death's harbinger : Sad task ! yet argument 
 
 Not less but more heroick than the wrath 
 
 Of stern Achilles on his foe pursued 
 
 Thrice fugitive about Troy wall; or rage 
 
 Of Turnus for Lavinia disespoused ; 
 
 Or Neptune's ire, or Juno's, that so long 
 
 Perplex'd the Greek, and Cytherea's son; 
 
 If answerable style I can obtain 20 
 
 Of my celestial patroness, who deigns 
 
 Her nightly visitation unimplor'd, 
 
 And dictates to me slumbering ; or inspires 
 
 Easy my unpremeditated verse : 
 
 Since first this subject for heroick song 
 
 Pleas'd me long choosing, and beginning late ; 
 
 Not sedulous by nature to indite 
 
 Wars, hitherto the only argument 
 
 Heroick deem'd; chief mastery to dissect 
 
 With long and tedious havoc, fabled knights 30 
 
 In battles feign'd: the better fortitude 
 
 Of patience and heroick martyrdom 
 
 Unsung; or to describe races and games, 
 
 Or tilting furniture, imblazon'd shields, 
 
 Impresses quaint, 1 caparisons and steeds, 
 
 Bases 2 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 heroick name 40 
 
 To person or to poem. Me, of these 
 
 Nor skill'd nor studious, higher argument 
 
 Remains ; sufficient of itself to raise 
 
 1 ' Impresses quaint : ' devices on the shield. — 2 ' Bases : ' mantles worn by 
 knights.
 
 216 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 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 50 
 
 'Twixt day and night, and now from end to end 
 Night's hemisphere had veil'd the horizon round : 
 When Satan, who late fled before the threats 
 Of Gabriel out of Eden, now improv'd 
 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 60 
 
 His entrance, and forewarn'd the Cherubim 
 That kept their watch ; thence full of anguish driven, 
 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 colure J 1 
 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 change. 
 Where Tigris, at the foot of Paradise, 71 
 
 Into a gulf shot under ground, till part 
 Rose 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, 
 
 1 ' Colure :' a circle at right angles with the poles of the world.
 
 BOOK IX. 217 
 
 From Eden over Pontus and the pool 
 
 Maeotis, up beyond the river Ob ; 1 
 
 Downward as far antarctick : and in length, 
 
 West from Orontes 2 to the ocean barr'd 
 
 At Darien; 3 thence to the land where flows 
 
 Ganges and Indus : Thus the orb he roam'd 
 
 With narrow search ; and with inspection deep 
 
 Consider'd 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 revolv'd, his final sentence chose 
 
 Fit vessel, fittest imp of fraud, in whom 
 
 To enter, and his dark suggestions hide 90 
 
 From sharpest sight ; for, in the wily snake 
 
 Whatever sleights, none would suspicious mark, 
 
 As from his wit and native subtlety 
 
 Proceeding; which, in other beasts observ'd, 
 
 Doubt might beget of diabolick 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 100 
 
 With second thoughts, reforming what was old ! 
 For what god, after better, worse would build % 
 Terrestrial Heaven, danced round by other Heavens 
 That shine, yet bear their bright officious lamps, 
 Light above light, for thee alone, as seems, 
 In thee concentering all their precious beams 
 Of sacred influence ! As God in heaven 
 Is center, yet extends to all ; so thou, 
 
 1 'Ob:' a river of Russia, near the north pole. — 2 'Orontes:' a river of 
 Syria. — 3 ' Darien :' the isthmus joining North and South America together.
 
 218 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Centering, receiv'st from all those orbs: in thee, 109 
 
 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, 
 
 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 120 
 
 Torment within me, as from the hateful siese 
 
 Of contraries ; all good to me becomes 
 
 Bane, and in Heaven much worse would be my state. 
 
 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 destroyed, 130 
 
 Or won to what may work his utter loss, 
 
 For whom all this was made, all this will soon 
 
 Follow, as to him link'cl 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 no 
 
 From servitude inglorious well nigh half 
 
 The Angclick name, and thinner left the throng
 
 BOOK IX. 219 
 
 Of his adorers : He, to be avenged, 143 
 
 And to repair his numbers thus impair'd, 
 
 Whether such virtue spent of old now fail'd 
 
 More Angels to create, if they at least 
 
 Are his created, or, to spite us more, 
 
 Determin'd to advance into our room 
 
 A creature forin'd of earth, and him endow, 
 
 Exalted from so base original, 15 ° 
 
 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 pronounc'd; 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 wrapt in mist 
 
 Of midnight vapour glide obscure, and pry 
 
 In every bush and brake, where hap may find leo 
 
 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 constrain'd 
 
 Into a beast ; and, mix'd with bestial slime, 
 
 This essence to incarnate and imbrute, 
 
 That to the highth of Deity aspir'd ! 
 
 But what will not ambition and revenge 
 
 Descend tol Who aspires, must down as low 
 
 As high he soar'd; obnoxious, first or last, 170 
 
 To basest things. Revenge, at first though sweet, 
 
 Bitter ere long, back on itself recoils : 
 
 Let it; I reck not, so it light well aini'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,
 
 220 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Whom, us the more to spite, his Maker rais'd 177 
 
 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 stored with subtile 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'cl; and his brutal sense, 
 In heart or head, possessing, soon inspir'd 
 With act intelligential ; but his sleep 190 
 
 Disturb'd not, waiting close the approach of morn. 
 Now, when as sacred light began to dawn 
 In Eden on the humid flowers, that breath'd 
 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 : 200 
 
 Then commune how that day they best may ply 
 Their growing work : for much their work outgrew 
 The hands' despatch of two gardening so wide ; 
 And Eve first to her husband thus bejian : 
 Adam, well may we labour still to dress 
 This garden, still to tend plant, herb, and flower^' 
 Our pleasant task enjoin'd; but, till more hands • 
 Aid us, the work under our labour grows, 
 Luxurious by restraint ; what we by day 
 Lop overgrown, or prune, or prop, or bind,
 
 BOOK IX. 221 
 
 One night or Wo with wanton growth derides 211 
 
 Tending to wild. Thou therefore now advise, 
 Or bear 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 22 ° 
 
 Our task we choose, what wonder if so near 
 Looks intervene and smiles, or objects 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 ! 
 Well hast thou motion'd, well thy thoughts employ 'd 
 How we might best fulfil the work which here 230 
 
 God hath assign'd us ; nor of me shalt pass 
 Unprais'd; for nothing lovelier can be found- 
 In woman, than to study household good, 
 And good works in her husband to promote, j 
 Yet not so strictly hath our Lord impos'd 
 Labour, as to debar us when we need 
 Refreshment, whether food or talk between, 
 Food of the mind, or this sweet intercourse 
 Of looks and smiles ; for smiles from reason flow, 
 To brute denied, and are of love the food ; 24 ° 
 
 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.j 
 These paths and bowers doubt not but our joint hands 
 
 /
 
 222 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Will keep from wilderness with ease, as wide 245 
 
 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. 250 
 
 But other doubt possesses me, lest harm 
 
 Befall thee sever'd 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 : 260 
 
 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 protects. 
 
 The wife, where danger or dishonour lurks, 
 
 Safest and seemliest by her husband stays, 
 
 Who guards her, or with her the worst endures. 
 
 To whom the virgin majesty of Eve, — 270 
 
 As one who loves, and some unkindness meets, 
 With sweet austere composure thus replied. 
 
 Offspring of Heaven and Earth, and all Earth's lord ! 
 That such an enemy we have, who seeks 
 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 return'd at shut of evening flowers. 

 
 book ix. 223 
 
 But that thou shouldst my firmness therefore doubt 279 
 
 To God or thee, because we have a foe 
 
 May tempt it, I expected not to hear. 
 
 Plis 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 seduc'd; 
 
 Thoughts, which how found they harbour in thy breast, 
 
 Adam, misthought of her to thee so dear 1 ? 
 
 To whom with healing words Adam replied. 290 
 
 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. 
 For he who tempts, though in vain, at least asperses 
 The tempted with dishonour foul ; suppos'd 
 Not incorruptible of faith, not proof 
 Against temptation : Thou thyself with scorn 
 And anger wouldst resent the offer'd wrong, 30 ° 
 
 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 31 o 
 
 More wise, more watchful, stronger if need were 
 Of outward strength ; while shame, thou looking on,
 
 224 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Shame to be overcome or oyerreacli'd, sis 
 
 Would utmost vigour raise, aud rais'd unite. 
 Why shouldst 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 domestick Adam in his care 
 And matrimonial love ; but Eve, who thought 
 Less attributed to her faith sincere, S20 
 
 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 330 
 
 Foul on himself; then wherefore shunn'd or fear'd 
 By us? who rather double honour gain 
 From his surmise prov'd false; find peace within, 
 Favour from Heaven, our witness, from the event. 
 And what is faith, love, virtue, unassay'd 
 Alone, without exteriour help sustain'd % 
 Let us not then suspect our happy state 
 Left so imperfect by the Maker wise, 
 As not secure to single or combin'd. 
 Frail is our happiness, if this be so, 340 
 
 And Eden were no Eden, thus expos'd. 
 
 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,
 
 BOOK ix. 22:3 
 
 Or aught that might his happy state secure, 347 
 
 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 surpris'd, 
 
 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 me. 
 
 Firm we subsist, yet possible to swerve; 
 
 Since Reason not impossibly may meet 3G0 
 
 Some specious object by the foe suborn'd, 
 
 And fall into deception unaware, 
 
 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, 
 
 Not seeing thee attempted, who attest \ 
 
 But if thou think, trial unsought may find 3 ?o 
 
 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 forewarn'd, 
 Chiefly by what thy own last reasoning words 
 Touch'd only ; that our trial, when least sought, 
 
 P
 
 226 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 May find us both perhaps far less prepar'd, 381 
 
 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 j and, like a AVoocl-Nymph light, 
 Oread or Dryad, or of Delia's 1 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 arm'd, 
 But with such gardening tools as Art yet rude, 
 Guiltless of fire, had form'd, or Angels brought. 
 To Pales, or Pomona, 2 thus adorn'd, 
 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 return 
 Repeated; she to him as oft engag'd *oo 
 
 To be return'd by noon amid the bower, 
 And all things in best order to invite 
 Noontide repast, or afternoon's repose. 
 much deceiv'd, 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 immiuent 
 To intercept thy way, or send thee back, 41 ° 
 
 Dcspoil'd of innocence, of faith, of bliss. 
 For now, and since first break of dawn, the Fiend, 
 
 1 'Delia:' Diana. — 2 'Pales, Pomona, Ceres:' heathen goddepscs, presiding 
 over fruits, gardening, and husbandry.
 
 BOOK IX. 227 
 
 Mere serpent in appearance, forth was come; 413 
 
 And on his quest, where likeliest he might find 
 
 The only two of mankind, but in them 
 
 The whole included race, his purpos'd 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 
 
 He sought them both, but wish'd his hap might find 
 
 Eve separate ; he wish'd, but not with hope 
 
 Of what so seldom chanc'd ; when to his wish, 
 
 Beyond his hope, Eve separate he spies, * 
 
 Veil'd in a cloud of fragrance, where she stood, 
 
 Half spied, so thick the roses bushing round 
 
 About her glow'd, oft stooping to support 
 
 Each flower of slender stalk, whose head, though gay 
 
 Carnation, purple, azure, or speck'd with gold, 
 
 Hung drooping unsustain'd ; them she upstays 430 
 
 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 travers'd 
 
 Of stateliest covert, cedar, pine, or palm ; 
 
 Then voluble and bold, now hid, now seen, 
 
 Among thick-woven arborets, and flowers 
 
 Imborder'd on each bank, the hand of Eve : 
 
 Spot more delicious than those gardens 1 feign'd, 
 
 Or of revived Adonis, or renown'd 440 
 
 Alcinous, 2 host of old Laertes' son ; 
 
 Or that, not mystic, where the sapient king 3 
 
 Held dalliance with his fair Egyptian spouse. 
 
 1 ' Gardens of Adonis : ' small earthen pots of lettuces carried at the festivals 
 in honour of Adonis. — 2 ' Alcinous:' see the Odyssey. — 3 'Sapient king:' 
 Solomon.
 
 228 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Much he the place admir'd, the person more. 444 
 
 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, 450 
 
 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 
 
 This flowery plat, the sweet recess of Eve 
 
 Thus early, thus alone : Her heavenly form 
 
 Angelick, but more soft and feminine, 
 
 Her graceful innocence, her every air 
 
 Of gesture or least action, overaw'd 4go 
 
 His malice, and with rapine sweet bereav'd 
 
 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 disarm'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 470 
 
 Fierce hate he recollects, and all his thoughts 
 
 Of mischief, gratulating, thus excites. 
 
 Thoughts, whither have ye led me! with what sweet ■ 
 Compulsion thus transported, to forget 
 What hither brought us! hate, not love; nor hope 
 Of Paradise for Hell, hope here to taste 
 Of pleasure ; but all pleasure to destroy,
 
 book ix. 229 
 
 Save what is in destroying ; other joy 473 
 
 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 
 
 Heroick built, though of terrestrial mould ; 
 
 Foe not informidable ! exempt from wound, 
 
 I not ; so much hath Hell debas'd, and pain 
 
 Enfeebled me, to what I was in Heaven. 
 
 She fair, divinely fair, fit love for gods ! 
 
 Not terrible, though terrour be in love 1 490 
 
 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. v 
 
 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; 500 
 
 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, 2 or the god 
 In Epidaurus ; 3 nor to which transform^ 
 
 1 l Terrour be in love,' &c. : i.e., a beautiful woman begets terror, unless 
 you approach her with a hatred that overpowers fear. — 2 ' Hermione and Cad- 
 mus' were changed into serpents for having slain one sacred to Mars. — 3 ' God 
 in Epidaurus : ' Esculapius, who was worshipped there.
 
 230 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 508 
 
 520 
 
 Ainrnonian Jove, 1 or Capitoline, 2 was seen; 
 
 He with Olyinpias ; this with her who bore 
 
 Scipio, the highth of Rome. With tract oblique 
 
 At first, as one who sought access, but fear'd 
 
 To interrupt, sidelong he works his way. 
 
 As when a ship, by skilful steersman wrought 
 
 Nidi river's mouth, or foreland, where the wind 
 
 Veers oft, 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, 
 
 To lure her eye ; she, busied, heard the sound 
 
 Of rustling leaves, but minded not, as us'd 
 
 To such disport before her through the field, 
 
 From every beast ; more duteous at her call 
 
 Than at Circean call the herd disguis'd. 
 
 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, 53 ° 
 
 His fraudulent temptation thus began : 
 
 Wonder not, sovran Mistress, if perhaps 
 Thou canst, who art sole wonder ! much less arm 
 Thy looks, the Heaven of mildness, with disdain, 
 Hisplcas'd that I approach thee thus, and gaze 
 Insatiate ; I thus single ; nor have fear'd 
 Thy awful brow, more awful thus retii'd. 
 Fairest resemblance of thy Maker fair, 
 Thee all things living gaze on, all things thine 
 
 ' ' Ammonian Jove:' pretended Father of Alexander the Great. — ''Capi- 
 toline: 1 pretended father of Scipio Africanua.
 
 BOOK IX. 231 
 
 By gift, and thy celestial beauty adore 540 
 
 With ravishment beheld ! there best beheld, 
 
 Where universally adniir'd; but here 
 
 In this enclosure wild, these beasts among, 
 
 Beholders rude, and shallow to discern 
 
 Half what in thee is fair, one man except, 
 
 Who sees thee? (and what is one?) who should be seen 
 
 A goddess among gods, ador'd and serv'd 
 
 By Angels numberless, thy daily tram. — * 
 
 So gloz'd the Tempter, and his proem tun'd: 
 Into the heart of Eve his words made way, 550 
 
 Though at the voice much marvelling ; at length, 
 Not unamaz'd, she thus in answer spake. 
 
 What may this mean'? language of man pronoun c'd 
 By tongue of brute, and human sense express'd % 
 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 560 
 
 I knew, but not with human voice endued ; 
 Redouble then this miracle, and say 
 How cam'st 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 N 
 
 W T hat thou command'st; and right thou should'st be obey'd: 
 I was at first as other beasts that graze 571 
 
 The trodden herb, of abject thoughts and low, 
 As was my food ; nor aught but food discerned
 
 232 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Or sex, and apprehended nothing high: 571 
 
 Till, on a day roving the field, I chanc'd 
 
 A goodly tree far distant to behold, 
 
 Loaden with fruit of fairest colours mix'd, 
 
 Ruddy and gold : I nearer drew to gaze ; 
 
 When from the boughs a savoury odour blown, 
 
 Grateful to appetite, more pleas'd my sense sso 
 
 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 resolv'd 
 
 Not to defer ; hunger and thirst at once, 
 
 Powerful persuaders, quicken'd at the scent 
 
 Of that alluring fruit, urg'd me so keen. 
 
 About the mossy trunk I wound me soon ; 
 
 For, high from ground, the branches would require 5yo 
 
 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 spar'd 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 power ; and speech 600 
 
 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, 
 
 Or 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,
 
 book ix. 233 
 
 United I beheld ; no fair to thine 608 
 
 Equivalent or second ; which compelled 
 
 Me thus, though importune perhaps, to come 
 
 And gaze, and worship thee of right declar'd 
 
 Sovran of creatures, universal Dame ! 
 
 So talk'd the spirited sly Snake ; and Eve, 
 OTet more amaz'd, unwary thus replied. 
 
 Serpent, thy overpraising leaves in doubt 
 The virtue of that fruit, in thee first prov'd : 
 But say, where grows the tree? from hence how far'* 
 For many are the trees of God that grow 
 In Paradise, and various, yet unknown 
 To us; in such abundance lies our choice, 620 
 
 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, blithe and glad. 
 Empress, the way is ready, and not long ; 
 Beyond a row of myrtles, on a fiat, 
 Fast by a fountain, one small thicket past 
 Of blowing myrrh and balm : if thou accept 
 My conduct, I can bring thee thither soon. 030 
 
 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 640 
 To bogs and mires, and oft through pond or pool,
 
 234 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 There swallow'd up and lost, from succour far. 642 
 
 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 rest with thee; 
 
 Wonderous indeed, if cause of such effects. 6o ° 
 
 But of this tree Ave 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 cat, 
 Yet lords declared of all in earth or air? 
 To whom thus Eve, ye^sjiiless^; Of the fruit 
 Of each tree in the"garden we may eat ; 660 
 
 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 part puts on ; and, as to passion inov'd, 
 Fluctuates disturb'd, yet comely and in act 
 Rais'd, as of some great matter to begin. 
 As when of old some orator renown'd, c7 ° 
 
 In Athens or free Rome, where eloquence 
 Flourished, since mute ! to some great cause addrcss'd, 
 Stood in himself collected ; while each part, 
 Motion, each act, won audience ere the tongue ; 
 Sometimes in highth began, as no delav
 
 
 BOOK IX. 235 
 
 Of preface brooking, through his zeal of right : 676 
 
 So standing, moving, or to highth 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, cleem'd however wise. 
 Queen of this universe ! do not believe 
 Those rigid threats of death : ye shall not die : 
 How should you? By the fruit? it gives you life 
 To knowledge ; by the threatener ? 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 my lot. 69o 
 
 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 
 Rather your dauntless virtue, whom the pain 
 Of death denounc'd, 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'd ? 
 God therefore cannot hurt ye, and he_jnst; Too 
 
 Not just, not God; not feartLthen,. nor_oJhcyjL_ 
 /Your fear itself of death removes the feajjl) 
 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.
 
 23 G PARADISE LOST. 
 
 That ye shall be as gods, since I as man, HO 
 
 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, 
 
 Though threaten'd, which no worse than this can bring. 
 
 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, ?2o 
 
 Warm'd by the sun, producing every kind , 
 
 Them, nothing : if they all things, who enclos'd 
 
 Knowledge of good and evil in this tree, 
 
 That whoso eats thereof forthwith attains 
 
 Wisdom without their leave 1 ? 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 730 
 
 Causes, import your need of this fair fruit. 
 
 Goddess humane, reach then, and freely taste. 
 
 He ended ; and his words, replete with guile, 
 Into her heart too easy entrance won : 
 Fix'd on the fruit she gaz'd, 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 wak'd 
 An eager appetite, raised by the smell 740 
 
 So savoury of that fruit, which with desire, 
 Inclinable now grown to touch or taste,
 
 BOOK IX. 2d7 
 
 Solicited her longing eye ; yet first 7i:i 
 
 Pausing awhile, thus to herself she mus'd. 
 
 Great are thy virtues, doubtless, best of fruits, 
 Though kept from man, and worthy to be admir'd; 
 Whose taste, too long forborne, at first assay 
 Gave elocution to the mute, and taught 
 The tongue not made for speech to speak thy praise : 
 Thy praise he also, who forbids thy use 750 
 
 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 760 
 
 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 ! 
 How dies the Serpent 7 ? he hath eat'n 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 reserv'd ? 
 For beasts it seems : yet that one beast which first 
 Hath tasted envies not, but brings with joy 7T0 
 
 The good befallen him, author unsuspect, 
 Friendly to man, far from deceit or guile. 
 What fear I then % rather, what know to fear 
 Under this ignorance of good and evil, 
 Of God or death, of law or penalty? 
 Here grows the cure of all, this fruit divine,
 
 238 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Fair to the eye, inviting to the taste, 777 
 
 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. 7oo 
 Greedily she ingorg'd without restraint, 
 And knew not eating death: Satiate at length, 
 And highten'd as with wine, jocund and boon, 
 Thus to herself she pleasingly began. 
 
 sovran, virtuous, precious of all trees 
 In Paradise ! of operation blest 
 To sapience, hitherto obscur'd, infam'd, 
 And thy fair fruit let hang, as to no end 
 Created; but henceforth my early care, 
 Not without song, each morning, and due praise, soo 
 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'st Wisdom's way, 
 And giv'st access, though secret she retire.
 
 book ix. 239 
 
 And I perhaps am secret: Heaven is high, 8ii 
 
 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 
 
 Full happiness with me % or rather not, 
 
 But keep the odds of knowledge in my power 820 
 
 Without copartner % 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 
 
 Superiour; for, inferiour, who is free? 
 
 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 ! Confirm'd then I resolve, 830 
 
 Adam shall share with me in bliss or woe : 
 
 So dear I love him, that with him all deaths 
 
 I could endure, without him live no life. 
 
 So saying, from the tree her step she turn'd; 
 But first low reverence done, as to the Power 
 That dwelt within, whose presence had infus'cl 
 Into the plant sciential sap, deriv'd 
 From nectar, drink of gods. Adam the while, 
 Waiting desirous her return, had wove 
 Of choicest flowers a garland, to adorn 840 
 
 Her tresses, and her rural labours crown; 
 As reapers oft are wont their harvest queen. 
 Great joy he promis'd to his thoughts, and new 
 Solace in her return, so long delay 'd ;
 
 240 PAltADJSE LOST. 
 
 Yet oft his heart, divine of 1 something ill, 845 
 
 Misgave him ; he the faltering measure 2 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 850 
 
 A bough of fairest fruit, that downy smil'd, 
 
 New gather'd, and ambrosial smell diffus'd. 
 
 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 I 
 Thee I have miss'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, *go 
 
 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 restrain'd as we, or not obeying, 
 Hath eaten of the fruit ; and is become, 
 Not dead, as we are threaten'd, but thenceforth S70 
 
 Endued with human voice and human sense, 
 Reasoning to admiration ; and with me 
 Persuasively hath so prevail'd, that I 
 Have also tasted, and have also found 
 The effects to correspond; opener mine eyes, 
 Dim erst, dilated spirits, ampler heart, 
 
 ''Divine of:' foreboding. — 2 ' Faltering measure:' unequal beatings of 
 heart and pulse.
 
 BOOK IX. 241 
 
 And growing up to Godhead; which for thee 877 
 
 Chiefly I sought, without thee can despise. 
 
 For bliss, as thou hast part, to me is bliss ; 
 
 Tedious, unshar'd 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 told ; 
 But in her cheek distemper flushing glow'd. 
 On the other side Adam, soon as he heard 
 The fatal trespass done by Eve, amaz'd, 
 Astonied stood, and blank, while horrour chill 890 
 
 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, 900 
 
 Defac'd, deflower'd, and now to death devote ! 
 Rather, how hast thou yielded to transgress 
 The strict forbiddence, how to violate 
 The sacred fruit forbidd'n ! Some cursed fraud 
 Of enemy hath beguil'd 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 ! 
 
 Q
 
 242 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Should God create another Eve, and I 9ii 
 
 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 
 Recomforted, and after thoughts disturb'd 
 Submitting to what seem'd remediless, 
 Thus in calm mood his words to Eve he turn'd. 920 
 
 Bold deed thou hast presumed, adventurous Eve, 
 And peril great provoked, who thus hast dar'd, 
 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, 
 Profan'd first by the serpent, by him first 930 
 
 Made common, and unhallow'd, ere our taste ; 
 Nor yet on him found deadly ; he yet lives, 
 Lives, as thou saidst, 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, demigods. 
 Nor can I think that God, Creator wise, 
 Though threatening, will in earnest so destroy 
 Us his prime creatures, dignified so high, 010 
 
 Set over all his works ; which in our fall, 
 For us created, needs with us must fail, 
 Dependent made : so God shall uncrcate, 
 Be frustrate, do, undo, and labour lose ;
 
 book ix. 243 
 
 Not well conceiv'd of God, who, though his power 945 
 
 Creation could repeat, jet would be loath 
 
 Us to abolish, lest the Adversary 
 
 Triumph, and saj, " Fickle their state whom God 
 
 Most favours ; who can please him long 1 Me first 
 
 He ruin'd, now Mankind; whom will he next?" 950 
 
 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. 960 
 
 glorious trial of exceeding love, 
 Illustrious evidence, example high! 
 Engaging me to emulate ; but, short 
 Of thy perfection, how shall I attain, 
 Adam, 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 resolv'd 
 Rather than death, or aught than death more dread, 
 Shall separate us, link'd in love so dear, 97 
 
 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
 
 244 PAEADISE LOST. 
 
 The worst, and not persuade thee, rather die 979 
 
 Deserted, than oblige 1 thee with a fact 
 
 Pernicious to thy peace ; chiefly assur'd 
 
 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'cl eyes, new hopes, new joys, 
 
 Taste so divine, that what of sweet before 
 
 Hath touch'd my sense, flat seems to this, and harsh. 
 
 On my experience, Adam, freely taste, 
 
 And fear of death deliver to the winds. 
 
 So saying, she embrac'd him, and for joy 990 
 
 Tenderly wept; much won, that he his love 
 Had so ennobled, as of choice to incur 
 Divine displeasure for her sake, or death. 
 In rccompence (for such compliance bad 
 Such recompence best merits), from the bough 
 She gave him of that fair enticing fruit 
 With liberal hand: he scrupled not to eat, 
 Against his better knowledge ; not deceiv'd, 
 But fondly overcome with female charm. 
 
 Earth trembled from her entrails, as again 1000 
 
 In pangs; and Nature gave a second groan; 
 Sky lower'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 fcar'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, 1010 
 
 "Wherewith to scorn the earth: But that false fruit 
 
 1 ' Oblige :' in its old sense of rendering obnoxious to punishment.
 
 BOOK IX. 245 
 
 Far other operation first display 'd, 1012 
 
 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 1020 
 
 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 forbidd'n, it might be wish'd 
 For this one tree had been forbidden ten. 
 But come, so well refreshed, 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 *030 
 
 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 seiz'd ; and to a shady bank, 
 Thick overhead with verdant roof imbower'd, 
 He led her nothing loth; flowers were the couch, 
 Pansies, and violets, and asphodel, 1040 
 
 And hyacinth ; Earth's freshest, softest lap. 
 There they their fill of love and love's disport 
 Took largely, of their mutual guilt the seal, 
 The solace of their sin ; till dewy sleep 
 Oppress'd them, wearied with their amorous play.
 
 246 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Soon as the force of that fallacious fruit, 1046 
 
 That with exhilarating vapour bland 
 About their spirits had play'd, and inmost powers 
 Made err, was now exhal'd ; and grosser sleep, 
 Bred of unkindly fumes, with conscious dreams 
 Incumbered, 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 1000 
 
 Of Philistean Delilah, and wak'd 
 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 constraint. 
 
 Eve, in evil hour thou didst 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 1070 
 
 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; 
 Which leaves us naked thus, of honour void, 
 Of innocence, of faith, of purity, 
 Our wonted ornaments now soil'd and stain'd, 
 And in our faces evident the signs 
 Of foul concupiscence; whence evil store; 
 Even shame, the last of evils ; of the first
 
 book ix. 247 
 
 Be sure then. — How shall I behold the face ioso 
 
 Henceforth of God or angel, erst with joy 
 
 And rapture so oft beheld 1 ? Those heavenly shapes 
 
 Will dazzle now this earthly with their blaze, 
 
 Insufferably bright. might I here 
 
 In solitude live savage, in some glade 
 
 Obscur'd, where highest woods, impenetrable 
 
 To star or sunlight, 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 ! — 1000 
 
 But let 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 sew'd, 
 
 And girded on our loins, may cover round 
 
 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 1100 
 
 The fig-tree ; not that kind for fruit renown'd, 
 But such 1 as at this day, to Indians known 
 In Malabar or Decan spreads her arms, 
 Branching so broad and long, that in the ground 
 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 loopholes cut through thickest shade : Those leaves 
 They gather'd, broad as Amazonian targe; 1111 
 
 And, with what skill they had, together sew'd, 
 
 1 ' But such,' &e. : namely, the banyan tree.
 
 248 PAEADISE LOST. 
 
 To gird their waist; rain covering, if to hide 1113 
 
 Their guilt and dreaded shame ! how unlike 
 
 To that first naked glory! Such of late 
 
 Columbus found the American, so girt 
 
 With fcather'd cincture; naked else, and wild 
 
 Among the trees, on isles and woody shores. 
 
 Thus fenc'd, and, as they thought, their shame in part 
 
 Cover'd, but not at rest or ease of mind, 1120 
 
 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 tost and turbulent : 
 
 For Understanding rul'd not, and the Will 
 
 Heard not her lore; both in subjection now 
 
 To sensual Appetite, who, from beneath, 
 
 Usurping, over sovran Reason claim'd 1130 
 
 Superiour sway : From thus distemper'd breast, 
 
 Adam, estrang'd in look, and alter'd style, 
 
 Speech intermitted thus to Eve renew'd. 
 
 Would thou hadst hearken'd to my words, and stay'd 
 With me, as I besought thee, when that strange 
 Desire of wandering this unhappy morn, 
 I know not whence possess'd thee ; we had then 
 Remain'd 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 n« 
 
 Such proof, conclude they then begin to fail. 
 
 To whom, soon mov'd with touch of blame, thus Eve. 
 What words have pass'd thy lips, Adam severe ! 
 Imputest thou that to my default, or will 
 Of wandering, as thou call'st it, which who knows
 
 book ix. 249 
 
 But might as ill have happened, thou being by, 1147 
 Or to thyself perhaps 1 Hadst thou been there, 
 Or here the attempt, thou couldst not have discern'd 
 Fraud in the serpent, speaking as he spake ; 
 No ground of enmity between us known, 
 Why he should 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, 116O 
 
 Neither had I transgress'd, nor thou with me. 
 To whom, then first incens'cl, Adam replied. 
 Is this the love, is this the recompence 
 Of mine to thee, ingrateful Eve ! expressed 
 Immutable, when thou wert lost, not I ; 
 Who might have lived, and 'joyed immortal bliss, 
 Yet willingly chose rather death with thee'? 
 And am I now upbraided as the cause 
 Of thy transgressing % Not enough severe, 
 It seems, in thy restraint : What could I more 1 1170 
 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 overmuch admiring 
 What seem'd in thee so perfect, that I thought 
 No evil durst attempt thee ; but I rue
 
 250 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 That errour now, which is become my crime, . usi 
 
 And thou the accuser. Thus it shall befall 
 Him who, to worth in women oYertrusting, 
 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 appeared no end.
 
 BOOK X. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT 
 
 Man's trangression known, the guardian angels forsake Paradise, and return up 
 to heaven to approve their vigilance, and are approved; God declaring 
 that the entrance of Satan could not be by them prevented. He sends his 
 Son to judge the transgressors; who descends and gives sentence accord- 
 ingly; then in pity clothes them both, and reascends. Sin and Death, 
 sitting till then at the gates of hell, by wondrous 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 first made; then preparing for earth, they meet him, 
 proud of his success, returning to hell; their mutual gratulation. Satan 
 arrives at Pandemonium ; in full assembly relates with boasting his suc- 
 cess against man ; instead of applause is entertained witli 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 show of 
 the forbidden tree springing up before them, they, greedily reaching to 
 take of the fruit, chew dust and bitter ashes. The proceedings of Sin and 
 Death ; God foretells the final victory of his Son over them, and the 
 renewing of all things; but, for the present, 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 him; 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 repent- 
 ance and supplication. 
 
 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,
 
 252 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Hinder'd not Satan to attempt the mind i 
 
 Of man, with strength entire and free-will arm'd ; 
 
 Complete to have discover'd and rcpuls'd, 
 
 Whatever wiles of foe or seeming friend. 
 
 For still they knew, and ought to have still remembcr'd, 
 
 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 Angelick guards ascended, mute, and sad 
 For Man; for of his state by this they knew, 
 Much wondering how the subtle Fiend had stolen 20 
 Entrance unseen. Soon as the unwelcome news 
 From Earth arrived at Heaven-gate, displeas'd 
 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'cl, in multitudes 
 The ethereal people ran, to hear and know 
 How all befel : They towards the throne supreme, 
 Accountable, made haste, to make appear, 
 With righteous plea, their utmost vigilance, 30 
 
 And easily approv'd : when the Most High 
 Eternal Father, from his secret cloud 
 Amidst, in thunder uttcr'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 this tempter cross'd the gulf from Hell. 
 I told ye then he should prevail, and speed 40 
 
 On his bad errand ; Man should be sedue'd,
 
 BOOK X. 253 
 
 And flatter'd out of all, believing lies 42 
 
 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 denounc'd that day? 
 
 Which he presumes already vain and void, 50 
 
 Because not yet inflicted, as he fear'd, 
 
 By some immediate stroke; but soon shall find 
 
 Forbearance no acquittance, ere day end. 
 
 Justice shall not return as bounty scorn'd. 
 
 But whom send I to judge them 1 ? Whom but thee, 
 
 Vicegerent Son 1 ? To thee I have transferr'd 
 
 All judgement, 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 clesign'd go 
 
 Both ransom and Redeemer voluntary, 
 
 And destin'd Man himself, to judge Man fallen. 
 
 So spake the Father, and, unfolding bright 
 Toward the right hand his glory, on the Son 
 Blaz'd 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, 70 
 
 May'st ever rest well pleas'd. I go to judge 
 On Earth these thy transgressors ; but thou know'st, 
 Whoever judg'd, the worst on me must light 
 When time shall be ; for so I undertook 
 Before thee ; and, not repenting, this obtain
 
 254 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Of right, that I may mitigate their doom 76 
 
 On me deriv'd : jet 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 judgement, but the judg'd, 
 Those two ; the third, best absent, is condemn'd, 
 Convict by flight, and rebel to all law : 
 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 so 
 
 Time counts not, though 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 wak'd, and usher in 
 The evening cool ; when he, from wrath more cool, 
 Came, the mild Judge and Intercessour both, 
 To sentence Man : The voice of God they heard, 
 Now walking in the garden, by soft winds 
 Brought to their ears while day declined; they heard, 
 And from his presence hid themselves among 100 
 
 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 entcrtain'd with solitude, 
 Where obvious duty crewhile 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 loth, though first
 
 book x. 255 
 
 To offend; discountenanc'd both, £ and discoinpos'd : no 
 
 Love was not in their looks, either to God 
 
 Or to each other ; but apparent guilt, 
 
 And shame, and perturbation, and despair, 
 
 Anger, and obstinacy, and hate, and guile. 
 
 Whence Adam, faltering long, thus answered brief. 
 
 I heard thee in the garden, and of thy voice 
 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 rejoic'd; how is it now become 120 
 
 So dreadful to thee 7 ? 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 straight 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, 
 
 1 should conceal, and not expose to blame 130 
 By my complaint; but strict necessity 
 
 Subdues me, and calamitous constraint; 
 
 Lest on my head both sin and punishment 
 
 However insupportable, be all 
 
 Devolv'd : 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, 14 ° 
 
 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.
 
 256 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 To whoin the Sovran Presence thus replied. 144 
 
 Was she thy God, that her thou didst obey ^ 
 Before His voice ? or was she made thy guide, 
 Superiour, 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 150 
 
 Hers 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 seeni'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 160 
 
 Bold or loquacious, thus abash'd replied. 
 The Serpent me beguil'd, and I did eat. 
 
 Which when the Lord God heard, without delay 
 To judgement he proceeded on the accus'd 
 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, accurs'd, 
 As vitiated in nature : More to know 
 Conccrn'd not man (since he no further knew), 170 
 
 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. 
 
 Because thou hast done this, thou art accurs'd 
 Above all cattle, each beast of the field ; 
 Upon thy belly grovelling thou shalt go,
 
 book x. 257 
 
 And dust slialt eat all the days of thy life. 1W 
 
 Between thee and the woman I will put 
 
 Enmity, and between thine and her seed ; 
 
 Her seed shall bruise thy head, thou bruise his heel. 
 
 So spake this Oracle, then verified 
 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, 190 
 
 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 judgement he pronounc'd. 
 Because thou hast hearken'd to the voice of thy wife, 
 And eaten of the tree, concerning which 
 I charg'd thee, saying, Thou shalt not eat thereof ; 200 
 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 of the herb of the field ; 
 In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, 
 Till thou return unto the ground ; for thou 
 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 day, 
 Remov'd far off ; then, pitying how they stood
 
 258 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Before him naked to the air, that now 212 
 
 Must suffer change, clisdain'd not to begin 
 
 Thenceforth the form of servant to assume ; 
 
 As when he wash'd his servants' feet ; 1 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 220 
 
 Of beast, but inward nakedness, much more 
 
 Opprobrious, with his robe of righteousness 
 
 Arraying, covered from his Father's sight. 
 
 To Him with swift ascent he up return'd, 
 
 Into his blissful bosom reassum'd 
 
 In glory, as of old ; to Him appeas'd 
 
 All, though all-knowing, what had pass'd with Man 
 
 Recounted, mixing intercession sweet. 
 
 Meanwhile, ere thus was sinn'd and judg'd on earth, 
 Within the gates of Hell sat Sin and Death, 230 
 
 In counterview 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 
 For us his offspring dear % It cannot be 
 But that success attends him : if mishap, 
 Ere this he had return'd, with fury driven 240 
 
 By his avengers ; since no place like this 
 Can fit his punishment, or their revenge. 
 Methinks I feel new strength within me rise, 
 Wiu£s growing, and dominion given me lan>;e 
 
 1 c WashM his servants' feet:' his disciples. See John xiii. 5.
 
 book x. 259 
 
 Beyond this deep ; whatever draws me on, 245 
 
 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 : 250 
 
 For Death from Sin no power can separate. 
 
 But, lest the difficulty of passing back 
 
 Stay his return, perhaps, over this gulph 
 
 Impassable, impervious ; let us try 
 
 Adventurous work, yet to thy power and mine 
 
 Not unagreeable, 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, >2 <>o 
 
 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 meager Shadow answer'd 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 
 The savour of death from all things there that live : 
 Nor shall I to the work thou enterprisest 270 
 
 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, lur'd 
 With scent of living carcasses design'd 
 For death, the following day, in bloody fight :
 
 260 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 So scented the grim Feature, and upturn'd 279 
 
 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, 
 
 Flew diverse ; and with power (their power was great) 
 
 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, 1 together drive 290 
 
 Mountains of ice, that stop the imagined way 
 
 Beyond Petsora 2 eastward, to the rich 
 
 Cathaian coast. 3 The aggregated &0 \\ 
 
 Death, with his mace petrifick, cold and dry, 
 
 As with a trident, smote, and fix'd as firm 
 
 As Delos, 4 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 
 
 They fasten'd, and the mole immense wrought on soo 
 
 Over the foaming deep high-arch'd, a bridge 
 
 Of length prodigious, joining to the wall 
 
 Immovable 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 compar'd, 
 
 Xerxes, the liberty of Greece to yoke, 
 
 From Susa, 5 his Mcmnonian palace high, 
 
 Came to the sea; and, over Hellespont 
 
 ''Cronian sea:' the northern frozen sea. — 2 ' Petsora:' the most north- 
 eastern province of Ilusssia. — 3 ' Cathaian coast : ' the northern part of China. 
 — 4 ' Delos:' an island in the Archipelago. — * ' Susa:' called the palace, and 
 MemnoDia.
 
 BOOK X. 261 
 
 Bridging his way, Europe with Asia join'd, sio 
 
 And scourg'd with many a stroke the indignant waves. 
 Now had they brought the work, by wonderous art 
 Pontifical, 1 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 820 
 
 The confines met of empyrean Heaven, 
 And of this world ; and on the left hand, Hell 
 With long reach interpos'd : 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 2 steering 
 His zenith, while the sun in Aries rose : 
 Disguis'd he came ; but those his children dear 330 
 
 Their parent soon discern'd, though in disguise. 
 He, after Eve seduc'd, 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 
 
 1 ' Pontifical : ' the art of building bridges. — 2 ' Centaur and Scorpion : ' 
 farthest removed from Aries, where the sun then was ; and Satan wishing to 
 keep as far as possible from the sun, and Uriel its regent.
 
 262 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Might suddenly inflict ; that past return'd 341 
 
 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 wonderous pontifice, unhop'd 
 
 Met, who to meet him came, his offspring dear. 
 
 Great joy was at their meeting, and at sight 350 
 
 Of that stupendous bridge his joy encreas'd. 
 
 Long he admiring stood, till Sin, his fair 
 
 Enchanting daughter, thus the silence broke. 
 
 Parent, these are thy magnifick 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 divin'd, 
 My heart, which by a secret harmony 
 Still moves with thine, join'd in connexion sweet, 
 That thou on earth hadst prosper'd, which thy looks 360 
 Now also evidence, but straight I felt, 
 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 our bounds, 
 Nor this unvoyageable gulf obscure 
 Detain from following thy illustrious track. 
 Thou hast achieved our liberty, confin'd 
 Within Hell-gates till now : thou hast impower'd 
 To fortify thus far, and overlay, 370 
 
 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 full aveng'd
 
 book x. 263 
 
 Our foil in Heaven : here thou shalt monarch reign, 375 
 
 There didst not: there let him still victor sway, 
 
 As battle hath adjudg'd; from this new world 
 
 Retiring, by his own doom alienated ; 
 
 And henceforth monarchy with thee divide 
 
 Of all things, parted by the empyreal bounds, 3S0 
 
 His quadrature, 1 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, 390 
 
 Mine, with this glorious work ; and made one realm, 
 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, 40 ° 
 
 Chiefly on Man, sole lord of all declar'd ; 
 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 expos'd by my exploit. 
 
 1 ' Quadrature:' See Rev. xxi. 16, ' The city lieth four-square,' &c.
 
 264 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 If your joint power prevail, the affairs of Hell 408 
 
 No detriment need fear; go, and be strong! 
 
 So saying he disiniss'd them ; they with speed 
 Their course through thickest constellations held, 
 Spreading their bane; the blasted stars look'd wan, 
 And planets, planet-struck, real eclipse 
 Then suffer'd. The other way Satan went down 
 The causey to Hell-gate : On either side 
 Disparted Chaos overbuilt exclaim'd, 
 And with rebounding surge the bars assail'd, 
 That scorn'd his indignation : Through the gate, 
 Wide open and unguarded, Satan pass'd 
 And all about found desolate ; for those 420 
 
 Appointed to sit there had left their charge, 
 Flown to the upper world; the rest were all 
 Far to the inland retir'd, about the walls 
 Of Pandemonium ; city and proud seat 
 Of Lucifer, so by allusion call'd 
 Of that bright star to Satan paragon'd ; 
 There kept their watch the legions, while the Grand 
 In council sat, solicitous what chance 
 Might intercept their emperour sent; so he 
 Departing gave command, and they observ'd. 430 
 
 As when the Tartar from his Russian foe, 
 By Astracan, over the snowy plains, 
 Retires ; or Bactrian Sophi, 1 from the horns 
 Of Turkish crescent, leaves all waste beyond 
 The realm of Aladule, 2 in his retreat 
 To Tauris or Casbecn: 3 So these, the late 
 Heaven-banish'd host, left desart utmost Hell 
 Many a dark league, redue'd in careful watch 
 
 1 'Bactrian Sophi:' Persian emperor. — • 'Aladule:' the Greater Armenia; 
 called so from its last king, Aladules, who was slain in his retreat to Taurus 
 or Ecbatana. — 3 • Casbecn : ' another great city of Persia.
 
 book x. 265 
 
 Round their metropolis ; and now expecting 439 
 
 Each hour their great adventurer from the search 
 
 Of foreign worlds : He through the midst unmark'd, 
 
 In show plebeian Angel militant 
 
 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 
 
 AVas 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 45 ° 
 
 With what permissive glory since his fall 
 
 Was left him, or false glitter : All amaz'd 
 
 At that so sudden blaze, the Stygian throng 
 
 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 approached him ; who with hand 
 
 Silence, and with these words attention, won. 
 
 Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Virtues, Powers; 
 For in possession such, not only of right, 461 
 
 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 inferiour, by my adventure hard 
 With, peril great achiev'd. Long were to tell 
 What I have done ; what suffer'd ; with what pain 470 
 Voyag'd the unreal, vast, unbounded deep 
 Of horrible confusion : over which,
 
 266 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 By Sin and Death, a broad way now is pav'd 473 
 
 To expedite your glorious march ; but I 
 
 Toil'd out my uncouth passage, forc'd to ride 
 
 The uu tractable 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 4so 
 
 The new-created world, which fame in Heaven 
 
 Long had foretold, a fabrick wonderful 
 
 Of absolute perfection ! therein man, 
 
 Plac'd in a Paradise, by our exile 
 
 Made happy: Him by fraud I have seduc'd 
 
 From his Creator; and, the more to encrease 
 
 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, 490 
 
 Without our hazard, labour, or alarm ; 
 
 To range in, and to dwell, and over Man 
 
 To rule, as over all he should have rul'd. 
 
 True is, me also hath he judg'd, or rather 
 
 Me not, but the brute serpent in whose shape 
 
 Man I deceiv'd : 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, 500 
 
 Or much more grievous pain 1 — Ye have the account 
 
 Of my performance : What remains, ye gods, 
 
 But up, and enter now into full bliss'? 
 
 So having said, a while he stood, expecting 
 Their universal shout, and high applause, 
 To fill his ear; when, contrary, he hears
 
 book x. 267 
 
 On all sides, from innumerable tongues, 507 
 
 A dismal universal hiss, the sound 
 
 Of publick scorn ; he wonder'd, 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 
 
 Reluctant, but in vain ; a greater power 
 
 Now rul'd him, punish'd in the shape he sinn'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 520 
 
 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 1 horn'd, Hydrus, 2 and Elops drear, 
 
 And Dipsas; 3 (not so thick swarm'd once the soil 
 
 Bedropp'd with blood of Gorgon, or the isle 
 
 Ophiusa), 4 but still greatest he the midst, 
 
 Now Dragon grown, larger than whom the sun 
 
 Engender'd in the Pythian vale or slime, 530 
 
 Huge Python, 5 and his power no less he seem'd 
 
 Above the rest still to retain : they all 
 
 Him follow'd, issuing forth to the open field, 
 
 Where all yet left of that revolted rout, 
 
 Heaven-fallen, in station stood or just array ; 
 
 Sublime with expectation when to see 
 
 1 Cerastes : ' a homed snake. — 2 ' Hydrus : ' the' water-snake. — 3 ' Dipsas : ' 
 called so, because those stung by it were tormented with incurable thirst. — 
 4 'Ophiusa:' a small island in the Mediterranean, infested with serpents.— 
 5 ' Python :' see Ovid.
 
 2G8 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 In triumph issuing forth their glorious Chief ; 537 
 
 They saw, but other sight instead! a crowd 
 Of ugly serpents : horrour on them fell, 
 And horrid sympathy ; for, what they saw, 
 They felt themselves, now changing: down their arms, 
 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, 
 As in their crime. Thus was the applause they meant 
 Turn'd to exploding hiss, triumph to shame 
 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 fair fruit, like that 550 
 
 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 further 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 Megaara: 1 greedily they pluck'd 560 
 
 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 
 Decciv'd : they, fondly thinking to allay 
 Their appetite with gust, instead of fruit 
 Chew'd bitter ashes, which the offended taste 
 With spattering noise rejected : oft they assay 'd, 
 Hunger and thirst constraining; drugg'd as oft, 
 With hatefullest disrelish writh'd their jaws, 
 1 ' Megaera : ' one of the Furies.
 
 book x. 269 
 
 With soot and cinders fill'd ; so oft they fell 570 
 
 Into the same illusion, not as Man [plagu'd 
 
 Whom they triumph'd once lapsed. Thus were they 
 And worn with famine, long and ceaseless hiss, 
 Till their lost shape, permitted, they resum'd ; 
 Yearly enjoin'd, some say, to undergo 
 This annual humbling certain number'd days, 
 To dash their pride and joy for Man seduc'd, 
 However, some tradition they dispers'd 
 Among the heathen, of their purchase got, 
 And fabled how the Serpent, whom they call'd 58 o 
 
 Ophion, 1 with Eurynome, the wide- 
 Encroaching Eve perhaps, had first the rule 
 Of high Olympus ; thence by Saturn driven 
 And Ops, ere yet Dictaean 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 Heath, 
 Close following pace for pace, not mounted yet 
 On his pale horse : To whom sin thus began. 590 
 
 Second of Satan sprung, all-conquering Heath ! 
 What think'st thou of our empire now, though earn'd 
 W T ith travel difficult, not better far 
 Than still at Hell's dark threshold to have sat watch, 
 Unnam'd, undreaded, and thyself half-starv'd % 
 
 Whom thus the Sin-born monster answer'd 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 600 
 To stuff this maw, this vast unhide-bound corps. 
 
 1 ' Ophion and Eurynome' were said to bave inhabited Olympus, till expelled 
 by Saturn and Ops. Milton sees in this story a tradition of the fall.
 
 270 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 To whom the incestuous mother thus replied. 602 
 
 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 sithe of Time mows down, devour unspar'd; 
 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, 610 
 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 620 
 
 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 «so 
 
 Which Man's polluting sin with taint hath shed 
 On what was pure ; till, cramm'd and gorg'd, nigh burst 
 With suck'd and glutted offal, at one sling 
 Of thy victorious arm, well-pleasing Son, 
 Both Sin and Death, and yawning Grave, at last
 
 BOOK x. 271 
 
 Through Chaos hurl'd, obstruct the mouth of Hell 636 
 
 For ever, and seal up his ravenous jaws. 
 
 Then Heaven and Earth renew'd shall be made pure 
 
 To sanctity, that shall receive no stain : 
 
 Till then, the curse pronounced on both proceeds. 
 
 He ended, and the heavenly Audience loud 
 Sung Halleluiah, as the sound of seas, 
 Through multitude that sung: Just are Thy ways, 
 Righteous are Thy decrees on all Thy works; 
 Who can extenuate Thee? Next, to the Son, 
 Destined Restorer of mankind, by whom 
 New Heaven and Earth shall to the ages rise, 
 Or down from Heaven descend. — Such was their song; 
 While the Creator, calling forth by name 
 His mighty Angels, gave them several charge, 650 
 
 As sorted best with present things. The sun 
 Had first his precept so to move, so shine, 
 As mio;ht 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 1 moon 
 Her office they prescribed; to the other five 
 Their planetary motions and aspects, 
 In sextile, square, and trine, and opposite, 2 
 Of noxious efficacy, and when to join 660 
 
 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 set 
 Their corners, when with bluster to confound 
 Sea, air, and shore ; the thunder when to roll 
 With terrour through the dark aereal hall. 
 Some say he bid his Angels turn ascance 
 
 1 'Blanc:' French for white. — 2 ' Sextile, square,' &c. : astrological jargon.
 
 272 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 The poles of earth, twice ten degrees and more, 699 
 
 From the sun's axle ; they with labour push'd 
 
 Oblique the centrick globe : Some say, the sun 
 
 Was bid turn reins from the equinoctial road 
 
 Like-distant breadth to Taurus with the seven 
 
 Atlantic Sisters, 1 and the Spartan Twins, 
 
 Up to the tropick 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 vernant flowers, 
 
 Equal in days and nights, except to those 6so 
 
 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, 2 and south as far 
 
 Beneath Magellan. 3 At that tasted fruit 
 
 The sun, as from Thyestean banquet 4 turn'd 
 
 His course intended; else how had the world 
 
 Inhabited, though sinless, more than now, 690 
 
 Avoided pinching cold and scorching heat? 
 
 These changes in the Heavens, though slow, produced 
 
 Like change on sea and land : sideral blast, 
 
 Vapour, and mist, and exhalation hot, 
 
 Corrupt and pestilent: Now from the north 
 
 Of Norumbega, 5 and the Samocd shore, 6 
 
 Bursting their brazen dungeon, arm'd with ice, 
 
 1 ' The seven Atlantic Sisters : ' the Pleiades on the neck of the Bull. — 
 2 ' Estotiland :' a large tract of country in North America. — 3 'Magellan:' a 
 district in South America. — ■ ' Thyestean banquet : ' the banquet Atreus gave 
 to his brother Thye'stes of his own children, at which the sun was said to turn 
 away. — 5 'Norumbega:' a province in North America. — 6 Samocd shore:' a 
 province in Russia.
 
 book x. 273 
 
 And snow, and hail, and stormy gust and flaw, 698 
 
 Boreas, 1 and Caecias, and Argestes loud, 
 
 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, 710 
 
 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 grim, 
 
 Glar'd 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 toss'd, 
 
 Thus to disburden sought with sad complaint. 
 
 miserable of happy ! Is this the end 720 
 
 Of this new glorious world, and me so late 
 The glory of that glory, who now become 
 Accurs'd of blessed'? hide me from the face 
 Of God, whom to behold was then my highth 
 Of happiness ! Yet well, if here would end 
 The misery ; I deserv'd 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 
 
 1 ' Boreas,' &c. : a strange jumble of Latin and Italian names for varied 
 winds. 
 
 S
 
 274 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Delightfully, Encrease and multiply ; ?so 
 
 Now death to hear ! for what can I encrease, 
 
 Or multiply, but curses on my head 1 
 
 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 thauk 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 center, light 74 o 
 
 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 1 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 receiv'd ; unable to perform Too 
 
 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 too 
 
 Prove disobedient ; and, rcprov'd, retort, 
 
 " Wherefore didst thou beget me 1 I sought it not : " 
 
 Wouldst thou admit for his contempt of thee
 
 book x. 275 
 
 That proud excuse ? yet him not thy election, 7C4 
 
 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 : 770 
 
 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 7so 
 
 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 inspir'd, 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 1 It was but breatli 
 
 Of life that sinn'd : what dies, but what had life * 90 
 
 And sin % The body properly had neither. 
 
 All of me, then, shall die ; let this appease 
 
 The doubt, since human reach no further knows. 
 
 For though the Lord of all be infinite, 
 
 Is his wrath also 1 Be it ; Man is not so, 
 
 But mortal doom'd. How can he exercise 
 
 Wrath without end on Man whom death must end ?
 
 276 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Can he make deathless death % That were to make 798 
 
 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 suppos'd, 
 
 Bereaving sense, but endless misery sio 
 
 From this day onward ; which I feel begun 
 
 Both in me and without me; and so last 
 
 To perpetuity ; — Ay me ! that fear 
 
 Comes thundering back with dreadful revolution 
 
 On my defenceless head : both Death and I 
 
 Am found eternal, and incorporate both ; 
 
 Nor I on my part single ; in me all 
 
 Posterity stands curs'd : Fair patrimony 
 
 That I must leave ye, Sons ! were I able 
 
 To waste it all myself, and leave ye none ! 820 
 
 So disinherited, how would you bless 
 
 Me, now your curse ! Ah ! why should all mankind, 
 
 For one man's fault, thus guiltless be condemn'd, 
 
 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 % ITim, after all disputes, 
 
 Forc'd I absolve ; all my evasions vain, 
 
 And reasonings, though through mazes, lead me still sso 
 
 But to my own conviction : first and last
 
 book x. 277 
 
 On me, me only, as the source and spring 832 
 
 Of all corruption, all the blame lights due ; 
 
 So might the wrath ! Fond wish ! couldst thou support 
 
 That burden, heavier than the earth to bear ; 
 
 Than all the world much heavier, though divided 
 
 With that bad Woman 1 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 ; s4 ° 
 
 To Satan only like both crime and doom. 
 
 Conscience ! into what abyss of fears 
 
 And horrours hast thou driven me ! out of which 
 
 1 find no way, from deep to deeper plung'd ! 
 
 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 terrour : On the ground sso 
 Outstretch'd he lay, on the cold ground ; and oft 
 Curs'd his creation ; Death as oft accus'd 
 Of tardy execution, since denounc'd 
 The day of his offence. Why comes not Death, 
 Said he, with one thrice acceptable stroke 
 To end me 1 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 ! 860 
 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,
 
 278 PAKADISE LOST. 
 
 Soft words to his fierce passion she assay'd ; 865 
 
 But her with stern regard he thus repell'd. 
 
 Out of my sight, thou Serpent ! That name best 
 Befits thee with him leagu'd, thyself as false 
 And hateful ; nothing wants, but that thy shape, 
 Like his, and colour serpentine, may show 87u 
 
 Thy inward fraud ; to warn all creatures from thee 
 Henceforth ; lest that too heavenly form, pretended l 
 To hellish falsehood, snare them ! But for thee 
 I 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 overreach ; but, with the Serpent meeting, 
 Fool'd and beguil'd : by him thou, I by thee, sso 
 
 To trust thee from my side ; imagin'd 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, 
 More to the part sinister, from me drawn ; 
 Well if thrown out, as supernumerary 
 To my just number found. why did God, 
 Creator wise, that peopled highest Heaven 
 With Spirits masculine, create at last S90 
 
 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, 
 
 1 ' Pretended : ' i. e., placed before hellish, &c.
 
 book x. 279 
 
 And strait conjunction with this sex ; for either S9S 
 
 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 repuls'd, with tears that ceas'd not flowing, 9io 
 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, 
 Unhappily deceiv'd ! 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, *S20 
 
 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 930 
 
 Against God only : I against God and thee ; 

 
 280 PAEADISE LOST. 
 
 •And to the place of judgement will return, 932 
 
 There with rny cries importune Heaven ; that all 
 The sentence, from thy head remov'd, may light 
 On me, sole cause to thee of all this woe ; 
 Me, me only, just object of his ire ! 
 
 She ended weeping ; and her lowly plight, 
 Immovable, till peace obtain'd from fault 
 Acknowledged and deplor'd, in Adam wrought 
 Commiseration : Soon his heart relented 040 
 
 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 displeas'd, his aid. 
 As one disarm'd, his anger all he lost, 
 And thus with peaceful words uprais'd her soon. 
 
 Unwary, and too desirous, as before, 
 So now of what thou know'st not, who desirest 
 The punishment all on thyself ; alas ! 
 Bear thine own first, ill able to sustain 950 
 
 His full wrath, whose thou feel'st as yet least part, 
 And my displeasure bcar'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 expos'd. 
 But rise ; — let us no more contend, nor blame 
 Each other, blam'd enough elsewhere ; but strive 
 In offices of love, how we may lighten 960 
 
 Each other's burden, in our share of woe ; 
 Since this day's death denoune'd, if aught I see, 
 Will prove no sudden, but a slow-pac'd evil ; 
 A long day's dying, to augment our pain ; 
 And to our seed (0 hapless seed !) deriv'd. 
 

 
 BOOK X. 281 
 
 To whom thus Eve, recovering heart, replied. 966 
 
 Adam, by sad experiment I know 
 How little weight mj words with thee can find, 
 Found so erroneous ; thence by just event 
 Found so unfortunate : Nevertheless, 
 Restor'd 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. 
 If care of our descent perplex us most, 
 Which must be born to certain woe, devour'd 980 
 
 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 woful 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 990 
 
 Be forc'd 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 
 
 % 
 
 jtfe
 
 282 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 From what we fear for both, let us make short, — 1000 
 
 Let us seek Death ; — or, he uot 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 
 Broke off the rest ; so much of death her thoughts 
 Had entertain'd, as dy'd her cheeks with pale. 
 But Adam, with such counsel nothing sway'd, 1010 
 
 To better hopes his more attentive mind 
 Labouring had rais'd ; 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 excellent thought in thee ; and implies, 
 Not thy contempt, but anguish and regret 
 For loss of life and pleasure overlov'd, 
 Or if thou covet death, as utmost end 102 ° 
 
 Of misery, so thinking to evade 
 The penalty pronounced, doubt not but God 
 Hath wiselier arm'd his vengeful ire, than so 
 To be forestall'd ; 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, 
 1 have in view, calling to mind with heed 103 ° 
 
 Part of our sentence, that thy Seed shall bruise 
 The Serpent's head ; piteous amends ! unless 
 Be meant, whom. I conjecture, our grand foe,
 
 book x. 283 
 
 Satan ; who, in the serpent, hath contriv'd 1034 
 
 Against us this deceit : To crush his head 
 
 Would be revenge indeed ! which will be lost 
 
 By death brought on ourselves, or childless days 
 
 Resolv'd, as thou proposest ; so our foe 
 
 Shall 'scape his punishment ordain'd, and we 
 
 Instead shall double ours upon our heads. 1040 
 
 No more be mention'd, then, of violence 
 
 Against ourselves ; and wilful barrenness, 
 
 That 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 both heard and judg'd, 
 
 Without wrath or reviling : we expected 
 
 Immediate dissolution, which we thought 
 
 Was meant by death that day ; when lo ! to thee 1050 
 
 Pains only in childbearing were foretold, 
 
 And bringing forth ; soon recompens'd 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 
 
 Cloth'd us unworthy, pitying while He judg'd ; 
 
 How much more, if we pray Him, will His ear 1060 
 
 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
 
 284 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Some better shroud, some better warmth to cherish iocs 
 
 Our limbs benumm'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 
 
 The air attrite to fire ; as late the clouds 
 
 Justling, or push'd with winds, rude in their shock, 
 
 Tine 1 the slant lightning ; whose thwart flame, driven down. 
 
 Kindles the gummy bark of fir or pine, 
 
 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, ioso 
 
 He will instruct us praying, and of grace 
 
 Beseeching Him ; so as we need not fear 
 
 To pass coinm odiously this life, sustain'd 
 
 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 judg'd 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 1090 
 
 Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign 
 
 Of sorrow unfcign'd, and humiliation meek 1 
 
 Undoubtedly He will relent, and turn 
 
 From His displeasure ; in whose look serene, 
 
 When angry most He secm'd and most severe, 
 
 What else but favour, grace, and mercy, shone 1 
 
 So spake our father penitent : nor Eve 
 Felt less remorse : they forthwith to the place 
 Repairing, where He judg'd them, prostrate fell 
 
 1 ■ Tine : ' kindle.
 
 book x. 285 
 
 Before Him reverent ; and both confess'd noo 
 
 Humbly their faults, and pardon begg'd ; with tears 
 Watering the ground, and with their sighs the air 
 Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign 
 Of sorrow unfeign'd, and humiliation meek.
 
 BOOK XL 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The Son of God presents to his Father the prayers of our first parents now re- 
 penting, and intercedes for them : God accepts them, but declares that 
 they must no longer abide in Paradise ; sends Michael with a band of 
 cherubim to dispossess them ; but first to reveal to Adam future things : 
 Michael's coming down. Adam shows to Eve certain ominous signs ; 
 he discerns Michael's approach ; goes out to meet him : the angel de- 
 nounces their departure. Eve's lamentation. Adam pleads, but submits ; 
 the angel leads him up to a high hill ; sets before him in vision what 
 shall happen till the Flood. 
 
 Thus they, in lowliest plight, repentant stood 
 
 Praying ; for, from the mercy-seat above, 
 
 Prevenient grace descending had remoy'd 
 
 The stony from their hearts, and made new flesh 
 
 Regenerate grow instead ; that sighs now breath'd 
 
 Unutterable, which the Spirit of prayer 
 
 Inspir'd, 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 10 
 
 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 1 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 fum'd 
 
 By their great Intcrcessour, came in sight 
 
 1 ' Themis : ' the goddess of justice.
 
 book xi. 287 
 
 Before the Father's throne : them the glad Son 20 
 
 Presenting, thus to intercede began. 
 
 See, Father, what first-fruits on earth are sprung 
 From thy implanted grace in Man ; these sighs 
 And prayers, which .in 1 this goLdeiixenseiv mii!d. 
 With incense, I thy priest before thee bring ; 
 Fruits oFmore 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 30 
 To supplication ; hear his sighs, though mute ; 
 Unskilful with what words to pray, let me 
 Interpret for him ; me, his advocate ^ h, 
 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 reconcil'd, at least his days 
 Number'd, though sad ; till death, his doom (which I io 
 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 unharmonious mixture foul, 
 Eject him, tainted now ; and purge him off, 
 As a distemper, gross, to air as gross,
 
 
 
 288 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 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 ; 60 
 
 Till I provided death : so death becomes 
 
 His final remedy ; and, after life, 
 
 Tried in sharp tribulation, and refin'd 
 
 By faith and faithful works, to second life, 
 
 Wak'd in the renovation of the just, 
 
 Resigns him up with Heaven and Earth rencw'd. 
 
 But let us call to synod all the Blest 
 
 Through Heaven's wide bounds : from them I will not hide 
 
 My judgements ; how with mankind I proceed, 
 
 As how with peccant Angels late they saw, 
 
 And in their state, though firm, stood more confirm'd. 
 
 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 angelick blast 
 Fill'd all the regions : from their blissful bowers 
 Of amarantine shade, fountain or spring, 
 By the waters of life, where'er they sat 
 In fellowships of joy, the sons of light 80 
 
 Hasted, resorting to the summons high ; 
 And took their scats ; till, from his throne supreme, 
 The Almighty thus pronoune'd his sovran will. 
 
 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 ;
 
 book xi. 289 
 
 Happier, had it sufficed hini to have known ss 
 
 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 
 
 Eeach 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 have thou in charge ; 
 Take to thee from among the Cherubim 100 
 
 Thy choice of flaming warriours, 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 urg'd 
 (For I behold them soften'd, and with tears no 
 
 Bewailing their excess), all terrour hide. 
 If patiently thy bidding they obey, 
 Dismiss them not disconsolate ; reveal 
 To Adam what shall come in future days, 
 As I shall thee enlighten ; intermix B 
 
 "My covenant in the Woman's seed renew'd ; 
 . So send them forth, though sorrowing, yet in peace : 
 And on the east side of the garden place, 
 Where entrance up from Eden easiest climbs, 
 Cherubick watch ; and of a sword the flame 12 ° 
 
 Wide waving ; all approach far off to fright, 
 
 T
 
 290 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 And guard all passage to the tree of life : 122 
 
 Lest Paradise a receptacle prove 
 
 To Spirits foul, and all my trees their prey ; 
 
 With whose stolen fruit Man once more to delude. 
 
 He ceas'd ; and the Arch-angelick power prepar'd 
 For swift descent ; with him the cohort bright 
 Of watchful Cherubim : four faces each 
 Had, like a double Janus j 1 all their shape 
 Spangled with eyes more numerous than those 130 
 
 Of Argus, and more wakeful than to drouse, 
 Charm'd with Arcadian pipe, the pastoral reed 
 Of Hermes, or his opiate rod. 2 Meanwhile, 
 To re-salute the world with sacred light, 
 Leucothea 3 wak'd,. and with fresh dews imbalm'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 ; 
 AVhich thus to Eve his welcome words renew'd. no 
 
 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 blest, or to incline His will, 
 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; 
 Kncel'd, and before him humbled all my heart ; iso 
 
 Mcthouglit I saw him placable and mild, 
 Bending His ear ; persuasion in me grew 
 
 1 'Janus:' a king, afterwards a god in Italy, represented with two faces. — 
 3 ' Opiate rod : ' a wand of Mercury, able to give sleep to whomsoever he 
 pleased. - 3 ' Leucothea:' the goddess of morning.
 
 BOOK XI. 291 
 
 That I was heard with favour ; peace return'd 153 
 
 Home to rny 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 160 
 
 Man is to live ; and all things live for Man. 
 
 "T"To whom thus Eve, with sad demeanour meek. ■— — L~ 
 
 111 worthy I such title should belong 
 
 To me transgressour ; 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 grac'd 
 
 The source of life : next favourable thou, 
 
 Who highly thus to entitle me vouchsaf'st, i"° 
 
 Far other name deserving. But the field 
 
 To labour calls us now with sweat impos'd, 
 
 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, 
 
 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 1 
 
 Here let us live, though in fallen state, con tent. 180 
 
 So spake, so wish'd much humbled Eve ; but Fate 
 Subscrib'd not : Nature first gave signs, impress'd 
 On bird, beast, air ; air suddenly eclips'd, 
 After short blush of morn ; nigh in her sight 
 The bird of Jove stoop'd from his aery tour, 
 Two birds of gayest plume before him drove ;
 
 292 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Down from a hill the beast that reigns in woods, 1 187 
 First hunter then, pursued a gentle brace, 
 Goodliest of all the forest, hart and hind ; 
 Direct to the eastern gate was bent their flight. 
 Adam observ'd, and with his eye the chase 
 Pursuing, not unmov'd, to Eve thus spake. 
 
 Eve, some further change awaits us nigh, 
 "Which Heaven, by these mute signs in Nature, shows 
 Forerunners of his purpose ; or to warn 
 
 Us, haply too secure of our discharge 
 
 From penalty, because from death releas'd 
 
 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 1 20c 
 
 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, 
 
 And slow descends with something heavenly fraught \ 
 
 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 ; 210 
 
 A glorious apparition, had not doubt 
 And carnal fear that day dimin'd Adam's eye. 
 Not that more glorious, when the angels met 
 Jacob in Mahanaim, 2 where he saw 
 The field pavilion'd with his guardians bright ; 
 Nor that, which on the (laming mount appear'd 
 In Dothan, cover'd with a camp of fire, 
 Against the Syrian king, who, to surprise 
 
 1 'Beast that reigna in woods,' i. e., a lion.— 2 'Mahanaim:' see Genesis 
 xxxii. 1, &c.— * ' Dothan : ' see 2 Kings vi. 13.
 
 book xi. 293 
 
 One man, assassin-like, had levied war, 219 
 
 War improclaim'd. The princely Hierarch 
 
 In their bright stand there left his Powers, to seize 
 
 Possession of the garden : he alone 
 
 To find where Adam shelter'd, took his way ; 
 
 Not unperceiv'd of Adam, who to Eve, 
 
 While the great visitant approach'cl, thus spake. 
 
 Eve, now expect great tidings, which perhaps 
 Of us will soon determine, or impose 
 New laws to be observ'd ; for I descry 
 From yonder blazing cloud that veils the hill, 
 One of the heavenly host, and, by his gait, 230 
 
 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 Arch- Angel soon drew nigh, 
 Not in his shape celestial, but as man 
 Clad to meet man ; over his lucid arms 24 ° 
 
 A military vest of purple flow'd, 
 Livelier than Melibcean, 1 or the grain 
 Of Sarra, 2 worn by kings and heroes old 
 In time of truce ; Iris 3 had dipt the woof ; 
 His starry helm unbuckled show'd him prime 
 In manhood where youth ended : by his side, 
 As in a glistering zodiack, hung the sword, 
 Satan's dire dread ; and in his hand the spear. 
 Adam bow'd low : he, kingly, from his state 
 Inclin'd not, but his coming thus declar'd. 
 
 1 ' Melibcean : ' from a city in Thessaly, famous for purple. — 2 ' Grain of Sar- 
 ra : ' from the name of a Ty rian fish which bleeds purple. — 3 ' Iris : ' the rainbow .
 
 294 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Aclaui, Heaven's high behest no preface needs : 251 
 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 
 May'st cover : Well may then thy Lord, appeas'd, 
 Redeem thee quite from Death's rapacious claim ; 
 But longer in this Paradise to dwell 
 Permits not : to remove thee I am come, 260 
 
 And send thee from the garden forth to till 
 The ground whence thou was 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 
 Discover'd soon the place of her retire. 
 
 unexpected stroke, worse than of Death ! 
 [ust I thus leave thee, Paradise \ thus leave 
 Thee, native soil ! these happy walks and shades, 270 
 Fit haunt of gods 1 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 1 
 Thee lastly, nuptial bower, by me adorn'd 280 
 
 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 
 
 V 
 
 Ju/l 
 
 Mi
 
 book xi. 295 
 
 And wild \ how shall we breathe in other air 284 
 
 Less pure, accustomed 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 290 
 
 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, 
 TVMichael thus his humble words address'd. 
 \_ Celestial, whether among the Thrones, or nam'd 
 Of them the highest ; for such of 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 300 
 
 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 : 310 
 
 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 1 submit. 
 This most afflicts me, that departing hence 
 As from His face, I shall be hid, depriv'd 
 His blessed countenance : Here I could frequent
 
 296 PAEADISE LOST. 
 
 With worship place by place where He vouchsaf d 318 
 
 Presence Divine ; and to niy sons relate, 
 
 " On this mount lie appcar'd ; under this tree 
 
 Stood visible, among these pines His voice 
 
 I heard ; here with Him at this fountain talk'd : " 
 
 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 % 
 
 For though I fled Him angry, yet recall'd 330 
 
 To life prolong'd and promis'd race, I now 
 
 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 warm'd : 
 All the earth He gave thee to possess and rule, 
 No despicable gift ; surmise not, then, 34 ° 
 
 His presence to these narrow bounds confin'd 
 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 250 
 
 Present ; and of His presence many a sign
 
 book xi. 297 
 
 Still following thee, still compassing thee round 352 
 
 With goodness and paternal love, His face 
 
 Express, and of His steps the track divine. 
 
 Which that thou may'st believe, and be confirm'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 360 
 
 True patience, and to temper joy with fear 
 
 And pious sorrow ; equally inur'd 
 
 By moderation either state to bear, 
 
 Prosperous or adverse : so shalt thou lead 
 
 Safest thy life, and best prepar'd 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 wak'st ; 
 
 As once thou slept'st, while she to life was form'd. 
 
 To whom thus Adam gratefully replied. 3 ™ 
 
 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 lay. sso 
 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
 
 298 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 City of old or modern fame, the seat 386 
 
 Of mightiest empire, from the destined wall 
 
 Of Cambalu, 1 seat of Cathaian Can, 
 
 And Samarchand by Oxus, Temir's 2 throne. 
 
 To Paquin 3 of Sinsean 4 kings ; and thence 
 
 To Agra and Lahor of Great Mogul, 
 
 Down to the golden Chersonese ; 5 or where 
 
 The Persian in Ecbatan sat, or since 
 
 In Hispahan ; or where the Russian Kzar 
 
 In Mosco ; or the Sultan in Bizance, 6 
 
 Turchestan-born ; 7 nor could his eye not ken 
 
 The empire of Negus 8 to his utmost port 
 
 Ercoco, 9 and the less maritim kings 
 
 Mombaza, 10 and Quiloa, and Melind, 
 
 And Sofala, thought Ophir, to the realm 400 
 
 Of Congo, and Angola farthest south ; 
 
 Or thence, from Niger flood to Atlas mount, 
 
 The kingdoms of Almansor, 11 Fez, and Sus, 
 
 Morocco, and Algiers, and Tremisen ; 
 
 On Europe thence, and where Rome was to sway 
 
 The world : in spirit perhaps he also saw 
 
 Rich Mexico, the seat of Montezume, 12 
 
 And Cusco in Peru, the richer seat 
 
 Of Atabalipa ; 13 and yet unspoil'd 
 
 Guiana, 14 whose great city Geryon's sons 15 41 ° 
 
 Call El Dorado. But to nobler sights 
 
 Michael from Adam's eyes the film removed, 
 
 1 ' Cambalu : ' the principal city of Cathay.— 2 ' Temir : ' Tamerlane. — 
 s 'Paquin:' i. e., Pekin. — * ' Sinsean:' Chinese. — 5 * Chersonese,' t. e., 
 Malacca. — 6 ' Bizance : ' Byzantium, iidw Constantinople.—' ' Turehestaa : ' a 
 province of Tartary.— 8 ' Negus : ' king of Upper Ethiopia.— 9 ' Ercoco : ' 
 Erquico, on the Red Sea.— 10 ' Mombaza,' &0. : all in Africa.— 11 ' Almansor,' 
 &c. : kingdoms in Barbary. — 12 ' Montezume : ' an Indian chief subdued by 
 Cortez. — "'Atabalipa:' the last Indian emperor subdued by Pizarro. — 
 14 'Guiana:' in South America.— 15 ' Geryou'a sons:' Spaniards, from the 
 name of an ancient king of Spain.
 
 book xi. 299 
 
 Which that false fruit, that promis'd clearer sight, 413 
 
 Had bred ; then purg'd 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 pierc'd, 
 
 Even to the inmost seat of mental sight, 
 
 That Adam now enforc'd to close his eyes, 
 
 Sunk down, and all his spirits became entranc'd ; 420 
 
 But him the gentle Angel by the hand 
 
 Soon rais'd, and his attention thus recalled. 
 
 Adam, now ope thine eyes ; and first behold 
 The effects which thy original crime hath wrought 
 In some to spring from thee ; who never touched 
 The excepted tree, nor with the snake conspir'd, 
 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 430 
 
 New-reap'd ; the other part sheep-walks and folds ; 
 T the midst an altar as the land-mark stood, 
 Rustick, of grassy sord ; x thither anon 
 A sweaty reaper from his tillage brought 
 First-fruits, the green ear, and the yellow sheaf, 
 Uncull'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 strew'd, 
 On the cleft wood, and all due rites perform'd : 440 
 
 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 
 
 1 ' Sord : ' sward.
 
 300 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 That beat out life ; lie fell ; and, deadly pale, 446 
 
 Groan'd out his soul with gushing blood effus'd. 
 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 sacrific'd ; 
 Is piety thus and pure devotion paid ? 
 
 To whom Michael thus, he also mov'd, replied. 
 These two are brethren, Adam, and to come 
 Out of thy loins : the unjust the just hath slain, 
 For envy that his brother's offering found 
 From Heaven acceptance ; but the bloody fact 
 Will be aveng'd ; and the other's faith approv'd, 
 Lose no reward ; though here thou see him die, 
 Rolling in dust and gore. To which our sire : 460 
 
 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 terrour, 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. ±~o 
 
 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 appcar'd, sad, noisome, dark ; 
 A lazar-house it seem'd ; wherein were laid
 
 BOOK XI. 301 
 
 Numbers of all diseas'd ; all maladies 4S0 
 
 Of ghastly spasm, or racking torture, qualms 
 Of heart-sick agony, all feverous kinds, 
 Convulsions, epilepsies, fierce catarrhs, 
 Intestine stone, and ulcer, colick pangs, 
 Demoniac phrensy, moping melancholy, 
 And moon-struck madness, pining atrophy, 
 Marasmus, 1 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 ; 490 
 
 And over them 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 500 
 
 Degraded, to what wretched state reserv'd ! 
 Better end here unborn. Why is life given 
 To be thus wrested from us 1 rather, why 
 Obtruded on us thus 1 who, if we knew 
 What we 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 debas'd 510 
 
 Under inhuman pains I Why should not Man, 
 Retaining still divine similitude 
 
 1 ' Marasmus : ' a slow feverish consumption.
 
 302 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 In part, from such deformities be free, Bi3 
 
 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 
 His image whom they served, a brutish vice, 
 Inductive mainly to the sin of Eve. 
 Therefore so abject is their punishment,' 520 
 
 Disfiguring not God's likeness, but their own ; 
 Or if His likeness, by themselves defae'd ; 
 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 530 
 
 The rule of Not too much ; by temperance taught, 
 In what thou eat'st and drink'st ; seeking from thence 
 Due nourishment, not gluttonous delight, 
 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 
 Gathcr'd, not harshly pluck'd, for death mature : 
 This is Old Age ; but then, thou must outlive 
 Thy youth, thy strength, thy beauty, which will change 
 To withcr'd, weak, and gray ; thy senses then, 540 
 
 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 clamp of cold and dry 
 To weigh thy spirits down, and last consume 
 The balm of life. To whom our ancestor.
 
 BOOK XI. 30-3 
 
 Henceforth I fly not death, nor would prolong 547 
 Life much : bent rather, how I may be quit, 
 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 liv'st 
 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 hues ; 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 mov'd 1 seo 
 Their stops and chords, was seen ; his volant touch, 
 Instinct through all proportions, low and high, 
 Fled and pursued transverse the resonant fugue. 2 
 In other part stood one who, at the forge 3 
 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 underground ;) the liquid ore he drain'd 570 
 
 Into fit moulds prepar'd ; from which he form'd 
 First his own tools ; then what might else be wrought 
 Fusil or graven in metal. After these, 
 But on the hither side, a different sort 
 From the high neighbouring hills, which was their seat, 
 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 
 
 1 ' Who mov'd :' Tubal. — 2 ' Fugue : ' a term in music, expressing the corre- 
 spondency of the parts. — 3 ' One who, at the forge:' Tubal-Cain.
 
 304 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Not hid ; nor those things last, winch might preserve 
 
 Freedom and peace to men ; they on the plain sso 
 
 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 eyes 
 
 Rove without rein ; till, in the amorous net 
 
 Fast caught, they lik'd ; 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 5uo 
 
 Hymen, then first to marriage rites invok'd : 
 
 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 blest 
 Much better seems this vision, and more hope 
 Of peaceful days portends, than those two past ; coo 
 Those were of hate and death, or pain much worse ; 
 Here Nature seems fulfill'd in all her ends. 
 
 To whom thus Michael. Judge not what is best 
 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; 610 
 
 Unmindful of their Maker, though his Spirit 
 Taught them ; but they his gifts acknowlcdg'd none.
 
 BOOK XI. 305 
 
 Yet they a beauteous offspring shall beget ; 6is 
 
 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 domestick honour and chief praise ; 
 
 Bred only and completed to the taste 
 
 Of lustful appetence, to sing, to dance, 
 
 To dress, and troll 1 the tongue, and roll the eye : 620 
 
 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, 
 
 Erelong to swim at large ; and laugh, for which 
 
 The world erelong 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 630 
 
 Paths indirect, or in the midway faint ! 
 But still I see the tenor of Man's woe 
 Holds 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 superiour gifts receiv'd. 
 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, 6i0 
 
 Concourse in arms, fierce faces threatening war, 
 Giants of mighty bone and bold emprise ; 
 Part wield their arms, part curb the foaming steed, 
 Single or in array of battle rang'd 
 Both horse and foot, nor idly mustering stood ; 
 
 1 ' Troll :' to use the tongue volubly aud affectedly. 
 U
 
 306 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 One way a band select from forage drives 64a 
 
 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 pastur'd late, now scatter'd lies 
 
 "With carcasses and arms the ensanguin'd field, 
 
 Deserted. Others to a city strong 
 
 Lay siege, encamp'd ; 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 parts the scepter'd heralds call 6C0 
 
 To council, in the city-gates ; anon 
 
 Gray-headed men and grave, with warriours mix'd, 
 
 Assemble, and harangues are heard ; but soon, 
 
 In factious opposition ; till at last, 
 
 Of middle age one rising, 1 eminent 
 
 In wise deport, spake much of right and wrong, 
 
 Of justice, of religion, truth, and peace, 
 
 And judgement from above : him old and young 
 
 Exploded, and had seized with violent hands. 
 
 Had not a cloud descending snatch'd him thence, ^to 
 
 Unseen amid the throng : so violence 
 
 Proceeded, and oppression, and sword-law, 
 
 Through all the plain, and refuge none was found 
 
 Adam was all in tears, and to his guide 
 
 Lamenting turn'd full sad ; what are these, 
 
 Death's ministers, not men % who thus deal death 
 
 Inhumanly to men, and multiply 
 
 Ten thousandfold the sin of him who slew 
 
 1 ' One rising : ' Enoch, namely.
 
 BOOK XL 307 
 
 His brother : for of whom such massacre 679 
 
 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 themselves 
 Abhor to join ; and, by imprudence mix'd, 
 Produce prodigious births of body or mind. 
 Such were these giants, men of high renown ; 
 For in those days might only shall be admir'd, 
 And valour and heroick virtue call'd ; 690 
 
 To overcome in battle, and subdue 
 Nations, and bring home spoils with infinite 
 Manslaughter, shall be held the highest pitch 
 Of human glory ; and for glory done 
 Of triumph, to be styl'd great conquerours, 
 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 ?oo 
 The only righteous in a world perverse, 
 And therefore hated, therefore so beset 
 With foes, for daring single to be just, 
 And utter odious truth, that God would come 
 To judge them with his Saints : him the Most High, 
 Wrapt 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 ; 710 
 
 Which now direct thine eyes and soon behold. 
 
 He look'd, and saw the face of things quite chang'd :
 
 308 PAEADISE LOST. 
 
 The brazen throat of war had ceased to roar ; 713 
 
 All now 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 
 Allur'd them ; thence from cups to civil broils. 
 At length a reverend sire 1 among them came, 
 And of their doings great dislike declar'd, 720 
 
 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 judgements imminent : 
 But all in vain : which, when he saw, he ceas'd 
 Contending, and remov'd his tents far off ; 
 Then, from the mountain hewing timber tall, 
 Began to build a vessel of huge bulk ; 
 Measured by cubit, length, and breadth, and highth : 
 Smear'd round with pitch ; and in the side a door 781 
 Contriv'd ; and of provisions laid in large, 
 For man and beast : when, lo, a wonder strange ! 
 Of every beast, and bird, and insect small, 
 Came sevens and pairs ; and enter'd in as taught 
 Their order : last 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 
 AVidc hovering, all the clouds together drove 
 From under Heaven : the hills to their supply 740 
 
 Vapour, and exhalation, dusk and moist, 
 Sent up amain ; aud now the thicken'd sky 
 Like a dark cieling stood : down rush'd the rain 
 Impetuous ; and continued, till the earth 
 No more was seen : the floating vessel swum 
 1 ' Reverend sire : ' Noah.
 
 BOOK XI. 309 
 
 Uplifted, and secure with beaked prow 746 
 
 Rode tilting o'er the waves ; all dwellings else 
 
 Flood overwhelm'd, and them with all their pomp 
 
 Deep under water roll'd : sea cover'd 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 swum imbark'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 rso 
 
 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 
 Enough to bear : those now, that were dispens'd 
 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 771 
 
 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 escap'd 
 Famine and anguish will at last consume, 
 Wandering that watery desart. I had hope
 
 310 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 When violence was ceased and war on earth, 780 
 
 All would have then gone well ; peace would have crown 'd 
 
 "With length of happy days the race of Man ; 
 
 But I was far deceiv'd ; 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 saw'st 
 In triumph and luxurious wealth, are they 
 First seen in acts of prowess eminent 
 And great exploits, but of true virtue void ; ft>o 
 
 Who, having spilt much blood, and done much waste, 
 Subduing nations, and achiev'd thereby 
 Fame in the world, high titles, and rich prey ; 
 Shall change their course to pleasure, ease, and sloth, 
 Surfeit, and lust ; till wantonness and pride 
 Raise 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 800 
 
 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 deprav'd ; 
 Justice and temperance, truth and faith, forgot ; 
 One man 1 except, the only son of light 
 In a dark age, against example good, 
 Against allurement, custom, and a world 810 
 
 Offended : fearless of reproach and scorn, 
 
 1 ' One man : ' Noah literally, but the passage faithfully describes Milton 
 himself.
 
 BOOK XI. 311 
 
 Or violence, lie of their wicked ways 812 
 
 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 observ'd 
 
 The one just man alive ; by his command 
 
 Shall build a wonderous ark, as thou beheld'st, 
 
 To save himself and household from amidst S20 
 
 A world devote to universal wrack. 
 
 No sooner he, with them of man and beast 
 
 Select for life, shall in the ark be lodg'd 
 
 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, 
 
 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 mov'd sso 
 
 Out of his place, push'd by the horned flood, 
 
 With all his verdure spoil'd, and 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, 1 and sea-mews' 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, 840 
 
 Which now abated ; for the clouds were fled, 
 Driven by a keen north wind, that, blowing dry, 
 Wrinkled 2 the face of deluge, as decay'd ; 
 
 1 ' Ores : ' a kind of whale. — 2 ' Wrinkled : ' this reminds us of Byron's famous 
 line iu his Address to the Ocean, " Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow.*'
 
 312 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 And the clear sun on his wide watery glass su 
 
 Gaz'd 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 stopt 
 
 His sluices, as the Heaven his windows shut. 
 
 The ark no more now floats, but seems on ground, S50 
 
 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, 
 
 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, pacifick sign : soo 
 
 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 1 gay, 
 
 Betokening peace from God, and covenant new. 
 
 Whereat the heart of Adam, erst so sad, 
 
 Greatly rcjoic'd ; and thus his joy broke forth. 
 
 thou, who future things canst represent 87 ° 
 
 As present, heavenly Instructor ! I revive 
 At this last sight, assur'd that Man shall live, 
 With all the creatures, and their seed preserve. 
 Far less I now lament for one whole world 
 Of wicked sons destroy 'd, than I rejoice 
 For one man found so perfect, and so just, 
 
 1 ' Three colours : ' i. e., azure, green, and red.
 
 BOOK XI. 313 
 
 That God vouchsafes to raise another world 877 
 
 From him, and all his ano;er to fonret. 
 
 But say, what mean those colour'd streaks in heaven, 
 
 Distended, as the brow of God appeas'd % 
 
 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 Arch-Angel. Dexterously thou aim'st ; 
 So willingly doth God remit his ire, 
 Though late repenting Him of Man deprav'd ; 
 Griev'd at His heart, when looking down He saw 
 The whole earth fill'd with violence, and all flesh 
 Corrupting each their way ; yet, those remov'd, 
 Such grace shall one just man find in His sight, soo 
 
 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, 
 Shall hold their course ; till fire purge all things new, 
 Both Heaven and Earth, wherein the just shall dwell.
 
 BOOK XII. 
 
 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 recomforted 
 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. 
 
 As one who in his journey bates at noon, 
 
 Though bent on speed ; so here the Arch- Angel paus'd, 
 
 Betwixt the world destroy 'd and world restor'd, 
 
 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 : 10 
 
 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 judgement past remains 
 Fresh 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, 20 
 
 With large wine-offerings pour'd, and sacred feast,
 
 BOOK XII. 315 
 
 Shall spend their days in joy unblain'd ; and dwell 22 
 
 Long time in peace, by families and tribes, 
 
 Under paternal rule : till one 1 shall rise 
 
 Of proud ambitious heart, who, not content 
 
 With fair equality, fraternal state, 
 
 Will arrogate dominion undeserv'd 
 
 Over his brethren, and quite dispossess 
 
 Concord and love of nature from the earth ; 
 
 Hunting (and men not beasts shall be his game) 30 
 
 With war and hostile snare such as refuse 
 
 Subjection to his empire tyrannous : 
 
 A mighty hunter thence he shall be styl'd 
 
 Before the Lord ; as in despite of Heaven, 
 
 Or from Heaven, claiming second sovranty ; 
 
 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 40 
 
 The plain, wherein a black bituminous gurge 
 
 Boils out from underground, 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 w T alks 
 
 To mark their doings, them beholding soon, 50 
 
 Comes down to see their city, ere the tower 
 
 Obstruct Heaven-towers; and in derision sets 
 
 Upon their tongues a various spirit, 2 to rase 
 
 1 'One:' Nimrod. — 2 'Various spirit:' a spirit varying and confusing the 
 sounds by which they would express their thoughts.
 
 316 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Quite out their native language; and, instead, £4 
 
 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, 
 As mock'd they storm : great laughter was in Heaven, 
 And looking down, to see the hubbub strange, co 
 
 And hear the din : Thus was the building left 
 Ridiculous, and the work Confusion nam'd. 
 
 Whereto thus Adam, fatherly displeas'd. 
 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 fo 
 
 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 so 
 
 Such trouble brought, affecting to subdue 
 Rational liberty ; yet know withal, 
 Since thy original lapse, true liberty 
 Is lost, which always with right reason dwells 
 Twinn'd, and from her hath no dividual beimr: 
 Reason in man obscur'd, or not obey'd, 
 Immediately inordinate desires,
 
 BOOK XII. 317 
 
 And upstart passions, catch the government g s 
 
 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 judgement just, 
 
 Subjects him from without to violent lords; 
 
 Who oft as undeservedly enthral 
 
 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; 100 
 
 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; HO 
 
 And one peculiar nation to select 
 From all the rest, of whom to be invok'd, 
 A nation from one faithful man 1 to spring : 
 Him, on this side Euphrates yet residing, 
 Bred up in idol- worship : that men, 
 (Canst thou believe X) should be so stupid grown, 
 While yet the patriarch lived who 'scaped the flood, 
 As to forsake the living God, and fall 
 To worship their own work in wood and stone 
 For gods ! Yet him God the Most High vouchsafes 
 
 1 ' One faithful mail : ' Abraham.
 
 318 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 To call by vision, from his father's house, 121 
 
 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 blest: 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 Chaldsea, passing now the ford 1 30 
 
 To Haran ; after him a cumbrous train 
 
 Of herds, and ilocks, and num'rous 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 Scchem, 1 and the neighbouring plain 
 
 Of Moreh ; there, by promise, he receives 
 
 Gift to his progeny of all that land, 
 
 From Hamath northward to the Desart south ; 
 
 (Things by their names I call, though yet unnam'd) ; 
 
 From Hermon east to the great western sea: 1 41 
 
 Mount Hermon, yonder sea; each place behold 
 
 In prospect, as I point them; on the shore 
 
 Mount Carinel ; here, the double-fountcd stream, 
 
 Jordan, 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 150 
 
 Plainlicr shall be rcveal'd. This patriarch bless'd. 
 
 Whom faithful Abraham due time shall call, 
 
 A son, and of his son a grandchild, leaves ; 
 
 1 ' Sechcm,' &c. : see Genesis.
 
 BOOK XII. 319 
 
 Like liim in faith, in wisdom, and renown. 
 
 The grandchild, with twelve sons encreas'd. departs 
 
 From Canaan to a land hereafter call'd 
 
 Egvpt ; divided by the river Nile : 
 
 See where it flows, disgorging at seven months 
 
 Into the sea : To sojonrn in that land 
 
 He comes, invited by a younger son - - 
 
 In time of dearth : a son, whose wort:: y 
 
 B him to be the second in that realm 
 Of Pharaoh : There he dies, and leaves his race 
 Growing into a nation, and now grown 
 8 spected to a sequent king, who seeks 
 To stop their overgrowth, as inmate guests 
 Too numerous ; whence of guests he makes them sla~ 
 Inhospitably, and kills their infant males ; 
 Till by two brethren (these two brethren call 
 Moses and 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 compel!' d by signs and judgements eft 
 To blood unshed the rivers must be turn'd : 
 Frogs, lice, and flies, must all his palace fill 
 With loath'd intrusion, and fill all the land: 
 His cattle must of rot and murren die ; 
 Botches and blains must all his flesh eml> --. 
 And all his people ; thunder mix'd with hail. 
 Hail mix'd with fire, must rend the Egyptian 
 And wheel on the 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.
 
 320 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Palpable darkness, and blot out three days; iss 
 
 Last, with one midnight stroke, all the first-born 
 
 Of Egypt must lie dead. Thus with ten wounds 
 
 The river-dragon tani'd, at length submits 
 
 To let his sojourners depart, and oft 
 
 Humbles his stubborn heart ; but still, as ice 
 
 More hardened after thaw ; till, in his rage, 
 
 Pursuing whom he late dismiss'd, the sea 
 
 Swallows him with his host ; but them lets pass, 
 
 As on dry land, between two crystal walls ; 
 
 Aw'd by the rod of Moses so to stand 
 
 Divided, till his rescued gain their shore : 
 
 Such wonderous power God to his saint will lend, 200 
 
 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 
 
 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, by command, 
 
 Moses once more his potent rod extends 211 
 
 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 Desart, not the readiest way; 
 
 Lest, entering on the Canaanite alarm'd, 
 
 War terrify them inexpert, and fear 
 
 Return them back to Egypt, choosing rather 
 
 Inglorious life with servitude; for life 220 
 
 To noble and ignoble is more sweet
 
 BOOK XII. 321 
 
 Untrain'd in arms, where rashness leads not on. 2 ^ 
 
 This also shall they gain bj their delay 
 
 In the wide wilderness ; there they shall found 
 
 Their government, and their great senate choose 
 
 Through the twelve tribes, to rule by la ws ord ain'di 
 
 'God from the mount 6T Sinai, whose gray top 
 
 Shall tremble, He descending, will Himself 
 
 .In thunder, lightning, and loud trumpets' sound, 
 
 Ordain them laws ; part, such as appertain 230 
 
 To civil justice; part, religious rites \ 
 
 f 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, 
 And terrour cease : He grants what they besought, - 
 Instructed that to God is no access 
 Without Mediator, whose high office now \—24o 
 
 Moses in figure bears ; to introduce 
 One greater, of whose day he shall foretel, 
 And all the Prophets in their age the times 
 Of great Messiah shall sing. Thus laws and rites 
 Establish'd, 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 frarn'd 
 Of cedar, overlaid with gold ; therein 250 
 
 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 zodiack representing
 
 322 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 The heavenly fires; 1 over the tent a cloud 256 
 
 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 clestroy'd, 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 Aialon, 
 
 Till Israel overcome!" so call the third 
 
 From Abraham, son of Isaac; and from him 
 
 His whole descent, who thus shall Canaan win. 
 
 Here Adam interpos'd. 0, sent from heaven, 270 
 Enlighten er 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 cas'd, 
 Erewhile perplex'd with thoughts, what would become 
 Of me and all mankind : But now I see 
 His day in whom all nations shall be blest ; 
 Favour unmerited by me, who sought 
 Forbidden knowledge by forbidden means. 
 This yet I apprehend not, why to those 28 ° 
 
 Among whom God will deign to dwell on earth 
 
 r 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 sin 
 
 /Will reign among them, as of thee begot; 
 
 I And therefore was law given them, to evince 
 Their natural pravity, by stirring up 
 
 1 • The heavenly fires :' the seven planets only then known. 

 
 boor xii. 323 
 
 Sin against law to fight; that when they see 2sy 
 
 Law can discover sin, but not remove, 
 
 Save by those shadowy expiations 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. 
 
 So kw appears imperfect, and but given soo 
 
 With purpose to resign them, in full time, 
 
 Up to a better covenant ; disciplin'd 
 
 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 belov'd, being but the minister 
 
 Of law, his people into Canaan lead ; 
 
 But Joshua, whom the Gentiles Jesus call, _sio 
 
 His name and office bearing, who shall quell 
 
 The adversary-Serpent, and bring back 
 
 Through the world's wilderness long wander'd Man 
 
 Safe to eternal Paradise of rest. 
 
 Meanwhile they, in their earthly Canaan plac'd, 
 
 Long time shall dwell and prosper, but when sins 
 
 National interrupt their publick peace, 
 
 Provoking God to raise them enemies; 
 
 From whom as oft he saves them penitent, 
 
 By Judges first, then under Kings ; of whom 320 
 
 The second, both for piety renown'd 
 
 And puissant deeds, a promise shall receive
 
 324 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Irrevocable, that his regal throne 323 
 
 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. sso 
 
 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. 
 
 Such 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, 34 o 
 
 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, 'stablished as the days of Heaven. 
 
 Return'd from Babylon by leave of kings 
 
 Their lords, whom God dispos'd, the house of God 
 
 They first re-edify; and for a while 350 
 
 In mean estate live moderate; till, grown 
 
 In wealth and multitude, factious they grow ; 
 
 But first among the priests dissension springs, 
 
 Men who attend the altar, and should most 
 
 Endeavour peace : their strife pollution brings 
 
 I'pon the temple itself: at last they seize
 
 BOOK XII. 325 
 
 The sceptre, and regard not David's sons ; 357 
 
 Then lose it to a stranger, that the true 
 
 Anointed King Messiah might be born 
 
 Barr'd of his right : jet at his birth a star, 
 
 Unseen before in Heaven, proclaims him come ; 
 
 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 choir 
 
 Of squadron'd 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 370 
 
 With earth's wide bounds, his glory with the heavens. 
 
 He ceased, discerning Adam with such joy 
 Surcharg'd, 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 vain ; 
 Why our Great Expectation should be call'd 
 The seed of Woman : Virgin mother, hail, 
 High in the love of Heaven ; yet from my loins 380 
 
 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 fight 
 As of a duel, or the local wounds 
 Of head or heel : Not therefore joins the Son 
 Manhood to Godhead, with more strength to foil 
 Thy enemy ; nor so is overcome
 
 326 PAEAD1SE LOST. 
 
 Satan, whose fall from Heaven, a deadlier bruise, 391 
 
 Disabled not to give thee thy death's wound : 
 
 Which He, who conies thy Saviour, shall recure, 
 
 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, impos'd 
 
 On penalty of death, and suffering death, 
 
 The penalty to thy transgression due, 
 
 And due to their's which out of thine will grow : 4oo 
 
 So only can high Justice rest appaid. 1 
 
 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 his obedience, 
 
 Imputed, becomes theirs by faith; his merits 
 
 To save them, not their own though legal works. 41 ° 
 
 For this he shall live hated, be blasphem'd, 
 
 Seiz'd on by force, judg'd, and to death condemned, 
 
 A shameful and accurs'd, 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 420 
 
 Shall long usurp; ere the third dawning light 
 
 Return, the stars of morn shall sec him rise 
 
 Out of his grave, fresh as the dawning light. 
 
 1 ' Appaid:' satisfied.
 
 book xii. 327 
 
 Tli j ransom paid, which Man from death redeems, 424 
 
 His death for Man, as many as offer'd life 
 
 Neglect not, and the benefit embrace 
 
 By faith not void of works ; This Godlike act 
 
 Annuls thy doom, the death thou shouldst have died. 
 
 In sin for ever lost from life ; this act 
 
 Shall bruise the head of Satan, crush his strength, 430 
 
 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 their's 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 followed him ; to them shall leave in charge 
 
 To teach all nations what of him they leara'd, ii0 
 
 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 prepar'd, 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 blest. 45 ° 
 
 Then to the Heaven of Heavens he shall ascend 
 
 With victory, triumphing through the air 
 
 Over his foes and thine ; there shall surprise 
 
 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,
 
 328 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Above all names in Heaven ; and tlience shall come, 
 AVhen this world's dissolution shall be ripe, 459 
 
 With glory and power to judge both quick and dead ; 
 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 Arch Angel Michael ; then paus'd, 
 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, 4 70 
 
 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 occasion'd ; or rejoice 
 Much more, that much more good thereof shall spring ; 
 To God more glory, more goodwill 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 48 ° 
 
 His faithful, left among the unfaithful herd, 
 The enemies of truth'? Who then shall guide 
 His people, who defend 1 Will they not deal 
 Worse with his followers than with him they dealt ? 
 
 Be sure they will, said the Angel ; but from Heaven 
 He to his own a Comforter will send, 
 The promise of the Father, who shall dwell 
 His Spirit within them ; and the law of faith, 
 Working through love, upon their hearts shall write, 
 To guide them in all truth ; and also arm 49 ° 
 
 With spiritual armour, able to resist
 
 book xii. 329 
 
 Satan's assaults, and quench his fiery darts ; 492 
 
 What man can do against them not afraid, 
 
 Though to the death ; against such cruelties 
 
 With inward consolations recompens'd, 
 
 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 
 
 Baptiz'd, shall them with wonderous gifts endue soo 
 
 To speak all tongues and do all miracles, 
 
 As did their Lord before them. Thus they win 
 
 Great numbers of each nation to receive 
 
 With joy the tidings brought from Heaven : At length 
 
 Their ministry perform'd, 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 5io 
 
 Of lucre and ambition ; and the truth 
 
 With superstitions and traditions taint, 
 
 Left only in those written records pure, 
 
 Though not but by the SpinlHKd'erstooo^r*" 
 
 Then shall they seek to avail themselves of names, 
 
 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, 520 
 
 Spiritual laws by carnal power shall force 
 
 On every conscience ; laws which none shall find 
 
 Left them inroll'd, or what the Spirit within 
 
 Shall on the heart engrave. What will they then 
 
 But force the Spirit of Grace itself, and bind
 
 330 
 
 TAEADISE LOST. 
 
 His consort Liberty'? what, but unbuild 526 
 
 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 respiration 1 to the just, 540 
 
 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 aud thy Lord; 
 Last, in the clouds from Heaven to be reveal'd 
 In glory of the Father, to dissolve 
 Satan with his perverted world; then raise 
 From the conflagrant mass, purg'd and refin'd, 
 New Heavens, new Earth, ages of endless date, 
 Founded in righteousness, and peace, and love ; 5iu 
 
 To bring forth fruits, joy, and eternal bliss ! 
 He ended; and thus Adam last replied. 
 How soon hath thy prediction, Seer blest, 
 Measur'd 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 
 1 ' Respiration :' refreshing. See Aets iii. 19.
 
 BOOK XII. 331 
 
 Of knowledge, what this vessel can contain ; 559 
 
 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, 57 ° 
 
 And, to the faithful, death the gate of life; 
 
 Taught this by his example, wh om 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, 
 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, sso 
 
 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, wo 
 By me encamp'd on yonder hill, expect 
 Their motion ; at whose front a flaming sword,
 
 332 TARAD1SE LOST. 
 
 In signal of remove, waves fiercely round. 593 
 
 We may no longer stay ; go, waken Eve ; 
 
 Her also I with gentle dreams have calm'd, 
 
 Portending good, and all her spirits compos'd 
 
 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 eoo 
 
 (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 wak'd ; 
 And thus with words not sad she him receiv'd. 608 
 
 Whence thou return'st, and whither went'st, I know ; 
 For God is also in sleep ; and dreams advise, 
 AVhich 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 
 A it all things under Heaven, all places thou, 
 Who for my wilful crime are banish'd hence. 
 This further consolation yet secure 02 ° 
 
 1 carry hence ; though all by me is lost, 
 Such favour I unworthy am vouchsaf 'd, 
 By me the Promised Seed shall all restore. 
 
 So spake our mother Eve; and Adam heard, 
 Well pleas'd but answer'd not : For now, too nigh 
 The Arch-Angel stood ; and from the other hill
 
 book xil. 333 
 
 To their fix'd station, all in bright array ti27 
 
 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 advanc'd, 
 
 The branclish'd sword of God before them blaz'd, 
 
 Fierce as a comet; which with torrid heat, 
 
 And vapour as the Libyan 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 
 
 To the subjected plain ; then disappear'd. <ho 
 
 They, looking back, all the eastern side beheld 
 
 Of Paradise, so late their happy seat, 
 
 Wav'd over by that flaming brand ; the gate 
 
 With dreadful faces throng'd, and fiery arms. 
 
 Some natural tears they dropt, but wip'd them soon : 
 
 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 slow, 
 
 Through Eden took their solitary way. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 EAt.I.ANTVNK, PRINTER, EDINBURGH.
 
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