Book X
Paradise Lost
BOOK IX.
THE ARGUMENT.
Satan having 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 in several places, each labouring apart: Adam consents not, alleging the danger, lest that enemy, of whom they were forewarn'd, should attempt her found alone: Eve loath to be thought not circumspect or firm enough, urges her going apart, the rather desirous to make trial of her strength; Adam at last yields: The Serpent finds her alone; his subtle approach, first gazing, then speaking, with much flattery extolling Eve above all other creatures. Eve wondering to hear the Serpent speaks, 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 arguments induces her at length to eat; she pleas'd with the taste deliberates 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 nakedness; 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 tragic; foul distrust, and breach Disloyal on the part of man, revolt, And disobedience: on the part of heav'n Now alienated, distance and distaste, Anger and just rebuke, and judgement giv'n, That brought into this world a world of woe, Sin and her shadow Death, and misery Death's harbinger: sad task, yet argument Not less but more heroic than the wrath Of stern Achilles on his foe pursu'd Thrice fugitive about Troy wall; or rage Of Turnus for Lavinia disespous'd, Or Neptun's ire or Juno's, that so long Perplex'd the Greek and Cytherea's son; If answerable style I can obtain Of my celestial patroness, who deigns Her nightly visitation unimplor'd, And dictates to me slumbring, or inspires Easy my unpremeditated verse: Since first this subject for heroic song Pleas'd me long choosing, and beginning late; Not sedulous by Nature to indite Wars, hitherto the only argument Heroic deem'd, chief mastery to dissect With long and tedious havoc fabl'd knights In battles feign'd; the better fortitude Of patience and heroic martyrdom Unsung; or to describe races and games, Or tilting furniture, emblazon'd shields, Impreses quaint, caparisons and steeds; Bases and tinsel trappings, gorgeous knights At joust and tournament; then marshal'd feast Serv'd up in hall with sewers, and seneschals; The skill of artifice or office mean, Not that which justly gives heroic name To person or to poem. me of these Nor skilled nor studious, higher argument Remaines, sufficient of it self to raise That name, unless an age too late, or cold Climate, or years damp my intended wing Depressed, and much they may, if all be mine, Not hers who brings it nightly to my ear.
The sun was sunk, and after him the star Of Hesperus, whose office is to bring Twilight upon the earth, short arbiter Twixt day and night, and now from end to end Night's hemisphere had veil'd the horizon round: 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 descri'd His entrance, and forewarn'd the cherubim That kept their watch; thence full of anguish driv'n, The space of seven continu'd nights he rode With darkness, thrice the equinoctial line He circl'd, four times cross'd the carr of night From pole to pole, traversing each colure; 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 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 involv'd in rising mist, then sought Where to lie hid; sea he had search'd and land From Eden over Pontus, and the pool Maeotis, up beyond the river Ob; Downward as far Antarctic; and in length West from Orontes to the ocean barr'd At Darien, thence to the land where flowes 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 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 diabolic pow'r Active within beyond the sense of brute. Thus he resolv'd, but first from inward grief His bursting passion into plaints thus pour'd:
O earth, how like to heav'n, if not preferr'd More justly, seat worthier of Gods, as built With second thoughts, reforming what was old! For what God after better worse would build? Terrestrial heav'n, danced round by other heav'ns That shine, yet bear their bright officious lamps, Light above light, for thee alone, as seems, In thee concentring all their precious beams Of sacred influence: as God in heav'n Is centre▪ yet extends to all, so thou Centring receiv'st from all those orbs; in thee, Not in themselves, all their known virtue appears Productive in herb, plant, and nobler birth Of creatures animate with gradual life Of growth, sense, reason, all summ'd up in man. With what delight could I have walkt 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 Torment within me, as from the hateful siege Of contraries; all good to me becomes Bane, and in heav'n much worse would be my state. But neither here seek I, no nor in heav'n To dwell, unless by mastering heav'n's supreme; Nor hope to be my self 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 destroyd, Or won to what may work his utter loss, For whom all this was made, all this will soon Follow, as to him linkt in weal or woe, In wo 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 styl'd, six nights and days Continu'd making, and who knows how long Before had been contriving, though perhaps Not longer than since I in one night freed From servitude inglorious well-nigh half Th' angelic name, and thinner left the throng Of his adorers▪ he to be aveng'd, And to repaire 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 form'd of earth, and him endow, Exalted from so base original, With heav'nly 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, O indignity! Subjected to his service angel wings, And flaming ministers to watch and tend Their earthy 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 The serpent sleeping, in whose mazy folds To hide me, and the dark intent I bring. O foul descent! that I who erst contended With Gods to sit the highest, am now constrain'd Into a beast, and mixed with bestial slime, This essence to incarnate and imbrute, That to the height of deity aspir'd; But what will not ambition and revenge Descend to? who aspires must down as low As high he soard, obnoxious first or last To basest things. revenge, at first though sweet, Bitter ere long back on it self recoils; Let it; I reck not, so it light well aim'd, Since higher I fall short, on him who next Provokes my envy, this new favourite Of heav'n, this man of clay, son of despite, Whom us the more to spite his maker rais'd From dust: spite then with spite is best repaid.
So saying, through each thicket dank or dry, Like a black mist low creeping, he held on His midnight search, where soonest he might find The serpent: him fast sleeping soon he found In labyrinth of many a round self-roll'd, His head the midst, well stor'd with subtle wiles: Not yet in horrid shade or dismal den, Nor nocent yet, but on the grassy herb Fearless unfear'd he slept: in at his mouth The devil enterd, and his brutal sense, In heart or head, possessing soon inspir'd With act intelligential; but his sleep Disturb'd not, waiting close th' 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 th' 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 choir Of creatures wanting voice, that done, partake The season, prime for sweetest scents and airs: Then commune how that day they best may ply Their growing work: for much their work outgrew The hands' dispatch of two gardening so wide. And Eve first to her husband thus began.
Adam, well may we labour still to dress This garden, still to tend plant, herb and flour, 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, One night or two with wanton growth derides 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 intermixed With myrtle, find what to redress till noon: For while so near each other thus all day Our task we choose, what wonder if so near Looks intervene and smiles, or object new Casual discourse draw on, which intermits Our day's work brought to little, though begun Early, and th' 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 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. 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 deni'd, and are of love the food, Love not the lowest end of human life. For not to irksom toil, but to delight He made us, and delight to reason join'd. These paths & bowers doubt not but our joint hands Will keep from wilderness with ease, as wide As we need walk, till younger hands ere long Assist us: but if much converse perhaps Thee satiate, to short absence I could yield. For solitude sometimes is best society, And short retirement urge sweet return. But other doubt possesses me, least 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; 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, As one who loves, and some unkindness meets, With sweet austere composure thus reply'd,
Offspring of heav'n 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 over-heard As in a shady nook I stood behind, Just then return'd at shut of evening flowers. But that thou shouldst my firmness therefore doubt To God or thee, because we have a foe May tempt it, I expected nor to hear. His violence thou fearst 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 shak'n or seduc't; Thoughts, which how found they harbour in thy breast Adam, misthought of her to thee so dear?
To whom with healing words Adam replyd. 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 Th' attempt it self, 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 thy self with scorn And anger wouldst resent the offer'd wrong, 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 th' assault shall light. Nor thou his malice and false guile contemn; Subtle he needs must be, who could seduce Angels, nor think superfluous others' aid. I from the influence of thy looks receive Access in every virtue, in thy sight More wise, more watchful, stronger, if need were Of outward strength; while shame, thou looking on, Shame to be overcome or over-reacht Would utmost vigour raise, and 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 tri'd.
So spake domestick Adam in his care And matrimonial love; but Eve, who thought Less attributed to her faith sincere, Thus her reply with accent sweet renew'd.
If this be our condition, thus to dwell In narrow circuit strait'nd by a foe, Subtle or violent, we not endu'd Single with like defence, wherever met, How are we happy, still in fear of harm? But harm precedes not sin: only our foe Tempting affronts us with his foul esteem Of our integrity: his foul esteem Sticks no dishonour on our front, but turns Foul on himself; then wherefore shun'd or fear'd By us? who rather double honour gain From his surmise prov'd false, find peace within, Favour from heav'n, our witness from th' event, And what is faith, love, virtue, unassayed Alone, without exterior help sustain'd? Let us not then suspect our happy state Left so imperfect by the maker wise, As not secure to single or combin'd, Frail is our happiness, if this be so, And Eden were no Eden thus expos'd.
To whom thus Adam fervently repli'd. O woman, best are all things as the will Of God ordain'd them, his creating hand Nothing imperfect or deficient left Of all that he created, much less man, Or aught that might his happy state secure, Secure from outward force; within himself The danger lies, yet lies within his power: Against his will he can receive no harm. But God left free the will, for what obeys Reason, is free, and reason he made right, But bid her well beware, and still erect, Lest by some fair appearing good surpris'd She dictate false, and misinform the will To do what God expresly 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 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; th' other who can know, Not seeing thee attempted, who attest? But if thou think, trial unsought may find Us both securer than thus warn'd thou seemst, 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, repli'd.
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, May find us both perhaps far less prepar'd, The willinger I go, nor much expect A foe so proud will first the weaker seek; So bent, the more shall shame him his repulse. Thus saying, from her husband's hand her hand Soft she withdrew, and like a wood-nymph light Oread or Dryad, or of Delia's train, Betook her to the groves, but Delia's self In gate 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 thus adorn'd, Likeliest 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 pursu'd Delighted, but desiring more her stay. Oft he to her his charge of quick return Repeated, she to him as oft engag'd To be return'd by noon amid the bower, And all things in best order to invite Noontide repast, or afternoon's repose. O much deceiv'd, much failing, hapless Eve, Of thy presum'd return! event perverse! Thou never from that hour in paradise Foundst either sweet repast, or sound repose; Such ambush hid among sweet flowers and shades Waited with hellish rancour imminent To intercept thy way, or send thee back Despoil'd of innocence, of faith, of bliss. For now, and since first break of dawn the fiend, Mere serpent in appearance, forth was come, And on his quest, where likeliest he might find The only two of mankind, but in them The whole included race, his 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 spi'd, 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 spect with gold, Hung drooping unsustain'd, them she upstays Gently with myrtle band, mindless the while, Her self, 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-wov'n arborets and flowers Imborder'd on each bank, the hand of Eve: Spot more delicious than those gardens feign'd Or of reviv'd Adonis, or renown'd Alcinous, host of old Laertes' son, Or that, not mystic, where the sapient king Held dalliance with his fair Egyptian spouse. Much he the place admir'd, the person more. As one who long in populous city pent, Where houses thick and sewers annoy the air, Forth issuing on a summer's morn to breathe Among the pleasant villages and farmes Adjoin'd, from each thing met conceives delight, The smell of grain, or tedded grass, or kine, Or dairy, each rural sight, each rural sound; If chance with nymphlike 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 heav'nly form Angelic, but more soft, and feminine, Her graceful innocence, her every air Of gesture or least action overaw'd 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 heav'n, soon ended his delight, And tortures him now more, the more he sees Of pleasure not for him ordain'd: then soon Fierce hate he recollects, and all his thoughts Of mischief, gratulating, thus excites.
Thoughts, whither have ye led me, with what 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, Save what is in destroying, other joy To me is lost. then let me not let pass Occasion which now smiles, behold alone The woman, opportune to all attempts, Her husband, for I view far round, not nigh, Whose higher intellectual more I shun, And strength, of courage haughty, and of limb Heroic built, though of terrestrial mould, Foe not informidable, exempt from wound, I not; so much hath hell debas'd, and pain Enfeebl'd me, to what I was in heav'n. She fair, divinely fair, fit love for Gods, Not terrible, though terror be in love And beauty▪ not approach'd by stronger hate, Hate stronger, under show of love well feign'd, The way which to her ruin now I tend.
So spake the enemy of mankind, enclos'd In serpent, inmate bad, and toward Eve Address'd his way, not with indented wave, Prone on the ground, as since, but on his rear, Circular base of rising folds, that tower'd Fold above fold a surging maze, his head Crested aloft, and carbuncle his eyes; With burnisht 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 chang'd Hermione and Cadmus, or the God In Epidaurus; nor to which transform'd Ammonian Jove, or Capitoline was seen, He with Olympias, this with her who bore Scipio the height of Rome. with tract oblique At first, as one who sought access, but fear'd To interrupt, side-long he works his way. As when a ship by skilful steersman wrought Nigh river's mouth or foreland, where the wind Veers 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 enamel'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 gaind, with serpent tongue Organic, or impulse of vocal air, His fraudulent temptation thus began. Wonder not, sovereign mistress, if perhaps Thou canst, who art sole wonder, much less arm Thy looks, the heav'n of mildness, with disdain, Displeas'd that I approach thee thus, and gaze Insatiate, I thus single, nor have fear'd Thy awful brow, more awful thus, retir'd. Fairest resemblance of thy maker fair, Thee all things living gaze on, all things thine By gift, and thy celestial beauty adore With ravishment beheld, there best beheld Where universally admir'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 shouldst be seen A goddess among Gods, ador'd and serv'd By angels numberless, thy daily train.
So gloz'd the tempter, and his proem tun'd; Into the heart of Eve his words made way, Though at the voice much marveling; at length Not unamaz'd she thus in answer spake. What may this mean? language of man pronounced By tongue of brute, and human sense expressed? The first at least of these I thought deni'd To beasts, whom God on their creation-day Created mute to all articulate sound; The latter I demur, for in their looks Much reason, and in their actions oft appears. Thee, serpent, subtlest beast of all the field I knew, but not with human voice endu'd; 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 reply'd. Empress of this fair world, resplendent Eve, Easy to me it is to tell thee all What thou command'st, and right thou shouldst be obey'd: I was at first as other beasts that graze The trodden herb, of abject thoughts and low, As was my food, nor aught but food discern'd Or sex, and apprehended nothing high: Till on a day roving the field, I chanc'd A goodly tree far distant to behold Loaden with fruit of fairest colours mixed, Ruddy and gold: I nearer drew to gaze; When from the boughs a savoury odour blow'n, Grateful to appetite, more pleas'd my sense Than smell of sweetest fennel or the teats Of ewe or goat dropping with milk at even, Unsuck'd of lamb or kid, that tend their play. To satisfy the sharp desire I had Of tasting those fair apples, I resolv'd Not to deferr; hunger and thirst at once, Powerful persuaders, quick'nd 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 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 powers, and speech Wanted not long, though to this shape retain'd. Thenceforth to speculations high or deep I turn'd my thoughts, and with capacious mind Consider'd all things visible in heav'n, Or earth, or middle, all things fair and good; But all that fair and good in thy divine Semblance, and in thy beauties heav'nly ray United I beheld; no fair to thine Equivalent or second, which compell'd Me thus, though importune perhaps, to come And gaze, and worship thee of right declar'd Sovereign of creatures., universal dame.
So talk'd the spirited sly snake; and Eve Yet more amaz'd unwary thus reply'd.
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, As leaves a greater store of fruit untouched, 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 flat, Fast by a fountain, one small thicket past Of blowing myrrh and balme; if thou accept My conduct, I can bring thee thither soon.
Lead then, said Eve. he leading swiftly roll'd In tangles, and made intricate seem straight, To mischief swift. hope elevates, and joy Bright'ns his crest, as when a wand'ring fire, Compact of unctuous vapour, which the night Condenses, and the cold environs round, Kindl'd through agitation to a flame, Which oft, they say, some evil spirit attends Hovering and blazing with delusive light, Misleads th' amaz'd night-wanderer from his way To boggs and mires, and oft through pond or pool, There swallow'd up and lost, from succour far. So glister'd the dire snake, and into fraud Led Eve our credulous mother, to the tree Of prohibition, root of all our woe; Which when she saw, thus to her guide she spake.
Serpent, we might have spar'd our coming hither, Fruitless to me, though fruit be here to excess, The credit of whose virtue rest with thee, Wondrous indeed, if cause of such effects. But of this tree we may not taste nor touch; God so commanded, and left that command Sole daughter of his voice; the rest, we live Law to our selves, our reason is our law.
To whom the tempter guilefully repli'd. Indeed? hath God then said that of the fruit Of all these garden trees ye shall not eat, Yet lords declar'd of all in earth or air?
To whom thus Eve yet sinless. of the fruit Of each tree in the garden we may eat, But of the fruit of this fair tree amidst The garden, God hath said, ye shall not eat Thereof, nor shall ye touch it, lest ye die.
She scarce had said, though brief, when now more The tempter, but with show of zeal and love To man, and indignation at his wrong, New part puts on, and as to passion mov'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 In Athens or free Rome, where eloquence Flourished, since mute, to some great cause addressed, Stood in himself collected, while each part, Motion, each act won audience ere the tongue, Sometimes in height began, as no delay Of preface brooking through his zeal of right. So standing, moving, or to height upgrown The tempter all impassion'd thus began.
O sacred, wise, and wisdom-giving plant, Mother of science, now I feel thy power Within me clear, not only to discern Things in their causes, but to trace the ways Of highest agents, deem'd however wise. Queen of this universe, do not believe Those rigid threats of Death; ye shall not die: How should ye? by the fruit? it gives you life To knowledge? by the threat'ner, 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. 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 denounced, whatever thing Death be, Deterr'd not from achieving what might lead To happier life, knowledge of good and evil; Of good, how just? of evil, if what is evil Be real, why not known, since easier shun'd? God therefore cannot hurt ye, and be just; Not just, not God; not fear'd then, nor obey'd: Your feare it self of Death removes the feare. 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 Op'nd and clear'd, and ye shall be as Gods, Knowing both good and evil as they know. That ye should be as Gods, since I as man, Internal man, is but proportion meet, I of brute human, ye of human Gods. So ye shall die perhaps, by putting off Human, to put on Gods, death to be wished, Though threat'nd, 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, 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? and wherein lies Th' offence, that man should thus attain to know? What can your knowledge hurt him, or this tree Impart against his will it all be his? Or is it envy, and can envy dwell In heav'nly breasts? these, these and many more Causes import your need of this fair fruit. Goddess human, 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; Mean while the hour of noon drew on, and wak'd An eager appetite, rais'd by the smell So savoury of that fruit, which with desire, Inclinable now grown to touch or taste, Sollicited her longing eye; yet first Pausing a while, thus to her self 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 forborn, 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, Conceales not from us, naming thee the tree Of knowledge, knowledge both of good and evil; Forbids us then to taste, but his forbidding Commends thee more, while it infers the good By thee communicated, and our want: For good unknown, sure is not had, or had And yet unknown, is as not had at all. In plain then, what forbids he but to know, Forbids us good, forbids us to be wise? Such prohibitions bind not. but if Death Bind us with after-bands, what profits then Our inward freedom? in the day we eat Of this fair fruit, our doom is, we shall die. How dies the serpent? 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 deni'd 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 The good befall'n him, author unsuspect, Friendly to man, far from deceit or guile. What fear I than, rather what know to feare Under this ignorance of good and evil, Of God or Death, of law or penalty? Here grows the cure of all, this fruit divine, Fair to the eye, inviting to the taste, Of virtue to make wise: what hinders then To reach, and feed at once both body and mind?
So saying, her rash hand in evil hour Forth reaching to the fruit, she pluck'd, she eat: Earth felt the wound, and Nature from her seat Sighing through all her works gave signs of woe, That all was lost. back to the thicket slunk The guilty serpent, and well might, for Eve Intent now wholly on her taste, naught 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 God-head from her thought. Greedily she engorg'd without restraint, And knew not eating Death: satiate at length. And height'nd as with wine, jocund and boon, Thus to her self she pleasingly began.
O sovereign, 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 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 op'nst wisdom's way, And giv'st access, though secret she retire. And I perhaps am secret; heav'n is high, High and remote to see from thence distinct Each thing on earth; and other care perhaps May have diverted from continual watch Our great forbidder, safe with all his spies About him. but to Adam in what sort Shall I appear? shall I to him make known As yet my change, and give him to partake Full happiness with me, or rather not, But keep the odds of knowledge in my power 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 Superior; for inferior 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, 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'd 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 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; Yet oft his heart, divine of something ill, Misgave him; he the falt'ring measure felt; And forth to meet her went, the way she took That morn when first they parted; by the tree Of knowledge he must pass, there he her met, Scarce from the tree returning; in her hand A bough of fairest fruit that downy smil'd, New gather'd, and ambrosial smell diffus'd. To him she hasted, in her face excuse Came prologue, and apology to prompt, Which with bland words at will she thus addressed.
Hast thou not wonder'd, Adam, at my stay? Thee I have missed, and thought it long, depriv'd Thy presence, agony of love till now Not felt, nor shall be twice, for never more Mean I to try, what rash untri'd I sought, The pain of absence from thy sight. but strange Hath been the cause, and wonderful to hear: This tree is not as we are told, a tree Of danger tasted, nor to evil unknown Op'ning 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 eat'n of the fruit, and is become, Not dead, as we are threatn'd, but thenceforth Endu'd 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 Th' effects to correspond, opener mine eyes, Dim erst, dilated spirits, ampler heart, And growing up to godhead; which for thee Chiefly I sought, without thee can despise. For bliss, as thou hast part, to me is bliss, Tedious, 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 count'nance blithe her story told; But in her cheek distemper flushing glow'd. On th' other side, Adam, soon as he heard The fatal trespass done by Eve, amaz'd, Astonied stood and blank, while horror chill Ran through his veins, and all his joints relax'd; From his slack hand the garland wreath'd for Eve Down dropped, and all the faded roses shed: Speechless he stood and pale, till thus at length First to himself he inward silence broke.
O fairest of creation, last and best Of all God's works, creature in whom excell'd Whatever can to sight or thought be form'd, Holy, divine, good, amiable, or sweet! How art thou lost, how on a sudden lost, Defaced, deflower'd, and now to Death devote? Rather how hast thou yielded to transgress The strict forbiddance, 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 forgoe Thy sweet converse and love so dearly join'd, To live again in these wild woods forlorn? Should God create another Eve, and I Another rib afford, yet loss of thee Would never from my heart; no no, I feel The link of Nature draw me: flesh of flesh, Bone of my bone thou art, and from thy state Mine never shall be parted, bliss or woe.
So having said, as one from sad dismay Recomforted, and after thoughts disturb'd Submitting to what seem'd remediless, Thus in calm mood his words to Eve he turn'd.
Bold deed thou hast presum'd, advent'rous Eve, And peril great provoked, who thus hath 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 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 demi-gods. Nor can I think that God, Creator wise, Though threat'ning, will in earnest so destroy Us his prime creatures, dignifi'd so high, Set over all his works, which in our fall, For us created, needs with us must fail, Dependent made; so God shall uncreate, Be frustrate, do, undo, and labour lose, Not well conceiv'd of God, who though his power Creation could repeat, yet would be loath Us to abolish, lest the adversary Triumph and say; fickle their state whom God Most favours, who can please him long; me first He ruin'd, now mankind; whom will he next? 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 severd, we are one, One flesh; to lose thee were to lose my self.
So Adam, and thus Eve to him repli'd. O 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, linkt in love so dear, To undergo with me one guilt, one crime, If any be, of tasting this fair fruit, Whole 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 menaced would ensue This my attempt, I would sustain alone The worst, and not perswade thee rather die Deserted, than oblige thee with a fact Pernicious to thy peace, chiefly assur'd Remarkably so late of thy so true, So faithful love unequal'd; but I feel Far otherwise th' event, not Death, but life Augmented, op'nd eyes, new hopes, new joys, Taste so divine, that what of sweet before Hath touched 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 Tenderly wept, much won that he his love Had so ennobl'd, as of choice to incur Divine displeasure for her sake, or Death. In recompense (for such compliance bad Such recompense best merits) from the bough She gave him of that fair enticing fruit With liberal hand: he scrupl'd not to eat Against his better knowledge, not deceiv'd, But fondly overcome with female charm. Earth trembl'd from her entrails, as again In pangs, and Nature gave a second groan, Sky lowr'd and muttering thunder, some sad drops Wept at completing of the mortal Sin Original; while Adam took no thought, Eating his fill, nor Eve to iterate Her former trespass fear'd, the more to soothe Him with her lov'd society, that now As with new wine intoxicated both They swim in mirth, and fancy that they feel Divinity, within them breeding wings Wherewith to scorn the earth: but that false fruit Far other operation first displayed, Carnal desire enflaming, 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 me apply, And palate call judicious; I the praise Yield thee; so well this day thou hast purvey'd. Much pleasure we have lost, while we abstain'd From this delightful fruit, nor known till now True relish, tasting; if such pleasure be In things to us forbidden, it might be wish'd, For this one tree had been forbidden ten. But come, so well refresh't, now let us play, As me is, after such delicious fare; For never did thy beauty since the day I saw thee first and wedded thee, adorn'd With all perfections, so enflame 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 imbowr'd He led her nothing loath; flowers were the couch, Pansies, and violets, and asphodel, And hyacinth, earth's freshest softest lap. There they their fill of love and love's disport Took largely, of their mutual guilt the scale, The solace of their sin, till dewy sleep Oppress'd them, wearied with their amorous play. Soon as the force of that fallacious fruit, That with exhilarating vapour bland About their spirits had play'd, and inmost powers Made err, was now exhal'd, and grosser sleep Bred of unkindly fumes, with conscious dreams Encumber'd, now had left them, up they rose As from unrest, and each the other viewing, Soon found their eyes how op'nd, and their minds How dark'nd; 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 cover'd, but his robe Uncover'd more, so rose the Danite strong Herculean Samson from the harlot-lap Of Philistean Dalilah, and wak'd Shorn of his strength, they destitute and bare Of all their virtue: silent, and in face Confounded long they sate, as struck'n mute, Till Adam, though not less than Eve abashed, At length gave utterance to these words constrain'd.
O 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 promis'd rising; since our eyes Op'nd 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 Be sure then. how shall I behold the face Henceforth of God or angel, erst with joy And rapture so oft beheld? those heav'nly shapes Will dazzle now this earthly, with their blaze Insufferably bright. O might I here In solitude live savage, in some glade Obscur'd, where highest woods impenetrable To star or sun-light, spread their umbrage broad And brown as evening: cover me ye pines, Ye cedars, with innumerable boughs Hide me, where I may never see them more. But let us now, as in bad plight, devise What best may from the present serve to hide The parts of each for other, that seem most To shame obnoxious, and unseemliest seen, Some tree whose broad smooth leaves together sewed, 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 counsel'd he, and both together went Into the thickest wood, there soon they chose The figtree, not that kind for fruit renown'd, But such as at this day to Indians known In Malabar or Decan spreads her arms Branching so broad and long, that in the ground The bended twigs take root, and daughters grow About the mother tree, a pillar'd shade High overarch't, 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, And with what skill they had, together sewed, To gird their waist, vain covering if to hide Their guilt and dreaded shame; O how unlike To that first naked glory. such of late Columbus found th' American so girt With feather'd cincture, naked else and wild Among the trees on isles and woody shores. Thus fenced, and as they thought, their shame in part Cover'd, but not at rest or ease of mind, They sate 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 tossed 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 sovereign reason claim'd Superior sway: from thus distemper'd breast, Adam, estrang'd in look and altered style, Speech intermitted thus to Eve renew'd.
Would thou hadst heark'nd to my words, and stay'd With me, as I besought thee, when that strange Desire of wand'ring 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 Such proof, conclude, they then begin to fail.
To whom soon mov'd with touch of blame thus Eve. What words have passed thy lips, Adam severe, Imput'st thou that to my default, or will Of wand'ring, as thou call'st it, which who knows But might as ill have happ'nd thou being by, Or to thy self perhaps: hadst thou been there, Or here th' 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, Neither had I transgress'd, nor thou with me.
To whom then first incensed Adam repli'd, Is this the love, is this the recompense Of mine to thee, ingrateful Eve, expressed Immutable when thou wert lost, not I, Who might have liv'd and joy'd 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? 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 That error now, which is become my crime, And thou th' accuser. thus it shall befall Him who to worth in women overtrusting Lets her will rule; restraint she will not brook, And left to her self, if evil thence ensue, She first his weak indulgence will accuse.
Thus they in mutual accusation spent The fruitless hours, but neither self-condemning, And of their vain contest appear'd no end.
BOOK X.
THE ARGUMENT.
Man's transgression known, the guardian angels forsake Paradise, and return up to Heaven to approve their vigilance, and are approv'd, 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 accordingly; 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 confin'd 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 of assembly relates with boasting his success against man; instead of applause is entertained with a general hiss by all his audience, transform'd with himself also suddenly into serpents, according to his doom giv'n 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 fall'n 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 reveng'd on the serpent, and exhorts her with him to seek peace of the offended deity, by repentance 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 heav'n; for what can 'scape the eye Of God all-seeing, or deceive his heart Omniscient, who in all things wise and just, Hinder'd not Satan to attempt the mind Of man, with strength entire, and free will arm'd, Complete to have discover'd and repuls'd Whatever wiles of foe or seeming friend. For still they knew, and ought to have still remember'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, deserv'd to fall. Up into heav'n from Paradise in haste Th' angelic guards ascended, mute and sad For man, for of his state by this they knew, Much wond'ring how the subtle fiend had stol'n Entrance unseen. soon as th' unwelcome news From earth arriv'd at Heaven gate, displeas'd All were who heard, dim sadness did not spare That time celestial visages, yet mixed With pity, violated not their bliss. About the new-arriv'd, in multitudes Th' ethereal people ran, to hear and know How all befell: they towards the throne supreme Accountable made haste to make appear With righteous plea, their utmost vigilance, And easily approv'd; when the most High Eternal Father from his secret cloud, Amidst in thunder utter'd thus his voice.
Assembl'd angels, and ye Powers return'd From unsuccessful charge, be not dismaid, Nor troubl'd 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 On his bad errand, man should be seduc't And flatter'd out of all, believing lies Against his maker; no decree of mine Concurring to necessitate his fall, Or touch with lightest moment of impulse His free will, to her own inclining left In even scale. but fall'n he is, and now What rests but that the mortal sentence pass On his transgression Death denounc't that day, Which he presumes already vain and void, Because not yet inflicted, as he fear'd, By some immediate stroke; but soon shall find Forbearance no acquittance ere day end. Justice shall not return as bounty scorn'd. But whom send I to judge them? whom but thee Vicegerent Son, to thee I have transferr'd All judgement whether in heav'n, or earth, or Hell. Easy it might be seen that I intend Mercy colleague with justice, sending thee Man's friend, his Mediator, his design'd Both ransom and Redeemer voluntary, And destin'd man himself to judge man fall'n.
So spake the Father, and unfoulding 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 heav'n and earth to do thy will Supreme, that thou in me thy Son belov'd Mayst 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 Of right, that I may mitigate their doom On me deriv'd yet I shall temper so Justice with mercy, as may illustrate most Them fully satisfyd, and thee appease. Attendance none shall need, nor train, where none Are to behold the judgment, but the judg'd, Those two; the third best absent is condemn'd, Convict by flight, and rebel to all law Conviction to the serpent none belongs.
Thus saying, from his radiant seat he rose Of high collateral glory: him Thrones and Powers, Princedoms, and Dominations ministrant Accompanied to Heaven gate, from whence Eden and all the coast in prospect lay. Down he descended straight; the speed of Gods Time counts not, 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 intercessor both To sentence man: the voice of God they heard Now walking in the garden, by soft winds Brought to their ears, while day declin'd, they heard, And from his presence hid themselves among The thickest trees, both man and wife, till God Approaching, thus to Adam call'd aloud.
Where art thou Adam, wont with joy to meet My coming seen far off? I miss thee here. Not pleas'd, thus entertain'd with solitude, Where obvious duty erewhile appear'd unsought: Or come I less conspicuous, or what change Absents thee, or what chance detains? come forth. He came, and with him Eve, more loath, though first To offend, discount'nanc'd both, and discompos'd; 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 faultring long, thus answer'd brief.
I heard thee in the garden, and of thy voice Afraid, being naked, hid my self. to whom The gracious judge without revile repli'd.
My voice thou oft hast heard, and hast not fear'd, But still rejoiced, how is it now become So dreadful to thee? that thou art naked, who Hath told thee? hast thou eaten of the tree Whereof I gave thee charge thou shouldst not eat?
To whom thus Adam sore beset repli'd. O heav'n! in evil strait this day I stand Before my judge, either to undergo My self the total crime, or to accuse My other self, the partner of my life; Whose failing, while her faith to me remains, I should conceal, and not expose to blame By my complaint; but strict necessity Subdues me; and calamitous constraint Lest on my head both sin and punishment, However insupportable, be all 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, And what she did, whatever in it self, Her doing seem'd to justify the deed; She gave me of the tree, and I did eat.
To whom the sovereign Presence thus repli'd. Was she thy God, that her thou didst obey Before his voice, or was she made thy guide, Superior, or but equal, that to her Thou did'st resign thy manhood, and the place Wherein God set thee above her made of thee, And for thee, whose perfection far excell'd 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 seem'd, Unseemly to bear rule, which was thy part And person, had'st thou known thy self aright.
So having said, he thus to Eve in few: Say woman, what is this which thou hast done?
To whom sad Eve with shame nigh overwhelm'd, Confessing soon, yet not before her judge Bold or loquacious, thus abash'd repli'd.
The serpent me beguil'd and I did eat. Which when the Lord God heard, without delay To judgement he proceeded on th' 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 accurst, As vitiated in nature: more to know Concern'd not man (since he no further knew) Nor alter'd his offence; yet God at last To Satan first in sin his doom apply'd, Though in mysterious terms, judg'd as then best: And on the serpent thus his curse let fall.
Because thou hast done this, thou art accurst Above all cattle, each beast of the field; Upon thy belly groveling thou shalt go, And dust shalt eat all the days of thy life. Between thee and the woman I will put Enmity, and between thine and her seed; Her seed shall bruise thy head, thou bruise his heel.
So spake this oracle, then verifi'd When Jesus son of Mary second Eve, Saw Satan fall like lightning down from heav'n, 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 it self of Satan long usurped, Whom he shall tread at last under our feet; Even he who now foretold his fatal bruise, And to the woman thus his sentence turn'd.
Thy sorrow I will greatly multiply By thy conception; children thou shalt bring In sorrow forth, and to thy husband's will Thine shall submit, he over thee shall rule.
On Adam last thus judgement he pronounc'd. Because thou hast hearkened to the voice of thy wife, And eaten of the tree concerning which I charg'd thee, saying: thou shalt not eat thereof, Curs'd 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 th' herb of th' 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 judg'd he man, both judge and Saviour sent, And th' instant stroke of Death denounc't that day Remov'd far off, then pitying how they stood Before him naked to the air, that now Must suffer change, disdain'd not to begin Thenceforth the form of servant to assume, As when he wash'd his servants' feet so now As Father of his family he clad Their nakedness with skins of beasts, or slain, Or as the snake with youthful coat repaid; And thought not much to clothe his enemies: Nor he their outward only with the skins Of beasts, but inward nakedness, much more Opprobrious, with his robe of righteousness, Arraying cover'd from his father's sight. To him with swift ascent he up return'd, Into his blissful bosom reassum'd In glory as of old, to him appeas'd All, though all-knowing, what had past with man Recounted, mixing intercession sweet. Meanwhile ere thus was sin'd and judg'd on earth, Within the gates of Hell sate Sin and Death, 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.
O 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 driv'n By his avengers, since no place like this Can fit his punishment, or their revenge. Methinks I feel new strength within me rise, Wings growing, and dominion giv'n me large Beyond this deep; whatever drawes me on, Or sympathy, or some connatural force Powerful at greatest distance to unite With secret amity things of like kind By secretest conveyance. thou my shade Inseparable must with me along: For Death from Sin no power can separate. But lest the difficulty of passing back Stay his return perhaps over this gulf Impassable, impervious, let us try Adventurous work, yet to thy power and mine Not 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 th' infernal host, Easing their passage hence, for intercourse, Or transmigration, as their lot shall lead. Nor can I miss the way, so strongly drawn By this new felt attraction and instinct.
Whom thus the 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 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 encampt, come flying, lur'd With scent of living carcasses design'd For death, the following day, in bloody fight. So scented the grim feature, and upturn'd His nostril wide into the murky air, Sagacious of his quarry from so far. Then both from out Hell gates into the waste Wide anarchy of Chaos damp and dark Flew divers, and with power (their power was great) Hovering upon the waters; what they met Solid or slimy, as in raging sea Tossed up and down, together crowded drove From each side shoaling towards the mouth of Hell. As when two polar winds blowing adverse Upon the Cronian sea, together drive Mountains of ice, that stop th' imagin'd way Beyond Petsora eastward, to the rich Cathaian coast. the aggregated soil Death with his mace petrific, cold and dry, As with a trident smote, and fixed as firm As Delos floating once; the rest his look Bound with Gorgonian rigour not to move, And with Asphaltic slime, broad as the gate, Deep to the roots of Hell the gather'd beach They fasten'd, and the mole immense wrought on Over the foaming deep high arched, a bridge Of length prodigious joying 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 thing to small may be compar'd, Xerxes; the liberty of Greece to yoke, From Susa his Momronian palace high Came to the sea, and over Hellespont Bridging his way Europe with Asia join'd, And scourg'd with many a stroke th' indignant waves. Now had they brought the work by wondrous art Pontifical, a ridge of pendent rock Over the vexed 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 out side bare Of this round world: with pins of adamant And chains they made all fast, too fast they made And durable; and now in little space The confines met of empyrean heav'n And of this world, and on the left hand Hell With long reach interpos'd; three sev'ral ways In sight, to each of these three places led. And now their way to earth they had descri'd, To Paradise first tending; when behold Satan in likeness of an angel bright Betwixt the Centaure and the Scorpion steering His Zenith, while the sun in Aries rose: Disguis'd he came, but those his children dear Their parent soon discern'd, though in disguise. He after Eve seduc't, 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 terrifi'd He fled, not hoping to escape, but shun The present, fearing guilty what his wrath Might suddenly inflict; that past, return'd By Night, and listening where the hapless pair Sate in their sad discourse, and various plaint, Thence gather'd his own doom, which understood Not instant, but of future time. with joy And tidings fraught, to Hell he now return'd, And at the brink of Chaos, near the foot Of this new wondrous pontifice, unhop't Met who to meet him came, his offspring dear. Great joy was at their meeting, and at sight Of that stupendous bridge his joy increas'd. Long he admiring stood, till Sin, his fair enchanting daughter, thus the silence broke.
O parent, these are thy magnific deeds, Thy trophies, which thou view'st as not thine own, Thou art their author and prime architect: For I no sooner in my heart 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 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 her bounds, Nor this unvoyageable gulf obscure Detain from following thy illustrious track. Thou hast achiev'd our liberty, confin'd Within Hell gates till now, thou us empower'd To fortify thus far, and overlay With this portentous bridge the dark abyss. Thine now is all this world, thy virtue hath won What thy hands builded not, thy wisdom gain'd With odds what war hath lost, and fully aveng'd Our foil in heav'n; here thou shalt monarch reign, 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 th' empyreal bounds, His quadrature, from thy orbicular world, Or try thee now more dang'rous 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 giv'n to be the race Of Satan (for I glory in the name, Antagonist of heav'n's almighty king) Amply have merited of me, of all Th' infernal empire, that so near heav'n's door Triumphal with triumphal act have met, Mine with this glorious work, and made one realm Hell and this world, one realm, one continent Of easy thorough-fare. therefore while I Descend through darkness, on your road with ease To my associate Powers, them to acquaint With these successes, and with them rejoice, You two this way, among these numerous orbs All yours, right down to Paradise descend; There dwell and reign in bliss, thence on the earth Dominion exercise and in the air, Chiefly on man, sole Lord of all 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. If your joint power prevails, th' affairs of Hell No detriment need fear, go and be strong.
So saying he dismiss'd them, they with speed Their course through thickest constellations held Spreading their bane; the blasted stars looked wan, And planets, planet-struck, real eclipse Then suffer'd. th' other way Satan went down The causey to Hell gate; on either side Disparted Chaos over built 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 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 Pandaemonium, 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 sate, solicitous what chance Might intercept their emperor sent, so he Departing gave command, and they observ'd. As when the Tartar from his Russian foe By Astracan over the snowy plains Retires, or Bactrian Sophi from the horns Of Turkish crescent, leaves all waste beyond The realm of Aladule, in his retreat To Tauris or Casbeen. so these the late Heav'n-banished host, left desert utmost Hell Many a dark league, reduc't in careful watch Round their metropolis, and now expecting Each hour their great adventurer from the search Of foreign worlds: he through the midst unmarked, In show plebeian angel militant Of lowest order, past; and from the door Of that Plutonian hall, invisible Ascended his high throne, which under state Of richest texture spread, at th' upper end Was plac't in regal lustre. down a while He sate, and round about him saw unseen: At last as from a cloud his fulgent head And shape star bright appear'd, or brighter, clad With what permissive glory since his fall Was left him, or false glitter: all 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 th' acclaim: Forth rush'd in haste the great consulting peers, Rais'd from their dark Divan, and with like joy Congratulant approach'd him, who with hand Silence, and with these words attention won.
Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Virtues, Powers, For in possession such, not only of right, I call ye and declare ye now, return'd Successful beyond hope, to lead ye forth Triumphant out of this infernal pit Abominable, accurst, the house of woe, And dungeon of our tyrant: now possess, As lords, a spacious world, to our native Heaven Little inferior, by my adventure hard With peril great achiev'd. long were to tell What I have done, what suffer'd, with what pain Voyag'd th' unreal, vast, unbounded deep Of horrible confusion, over which By Sin and Death a broad way now is pav'd To expedite your glorious march; but I Toil'd out my uncouth passage, forc't to ride Th' untraceable abyss, plung'd in the womb Of unoriginal Night and Chaos wild, That jealous of their secrets fiercely oppos'd My journey strange, with clamorous uproar Protesting fate supreme; thence how I found The new created world, which same in heav'n Long had foretold, a fabric wonderful Of absolute perfection, therein man Plac't in a Paradise, by our exile Made happy: him by fraud I have seduc'd From his Creator, and the more to increase Your wonder, with an apple; he thereat Offended, worth your laughter, hath giv'n up Both his beloved man and all his world, To Sin and Death a prey, and so to us, Without our hazard, labour, or alarm, To range in, and to dwell, and over man To rule, as over all he should have rul'd. True is, me also he hath judg'd, or rather Me not, but the brute serpent in whose shape Man I deceived: that which to me belongs, Is enmity, which he will put between Me and mankind; I am to bruise his heel; His seed, when is not set, shall bruise my head: A world who would not purchase with a bruise, Or much more grievous pain? ye have th' 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 On all sides, from innumerable tongues A dismal universal hiss, the sound Of public scorn; he wonder'd, but not long Had leisure, wond'ring 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 sin'd, According to his doom: he would have spoke, But hiss for hiss return'd with forked tongue To forked tongue, for now were all transform'd Alike, to serpents all as accessories To his bold riot: dreadful was the din Of hissing through the hall, thick swarming now With complicated monsters head and tail, Scorpion and asp, and Amphisbaena dire, Cerastes horn'd, Hydrus, and Ellops drear, And Dipsas (not so thick swarm'd once the soil Bedropped with blood of Gorgon, or the isle Ophiusa) but still greatest he the midst, Now dragon grown, larger than whom the sun Engender'd in the Pythian vale on slime, Huge Python, and his power no less he seem'd Above the rest still to retain; they all Him follow'd issuing forth to th' open field, Where all yet left of that revolted rout Heav'n-fall'n, in station stood or just array, Sublime with expectation when to see In triumph issuing forth their glorious chief; They saw, but other sight instead, a crowd Of ugly serpents; horror on them fell, And horrid sympathy; for what they saw, 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 Caught by contagion, like in punishment, As in their crime. thus was th' 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 fruit like that Which grew in Paradise, the bait of Eve Us'd by the tempter: on that prospect strange Their earnest eyes they fix'd, imagining For one forbidden tree a multitude Now ris'n, to work them further woe or shame; Yet parched with scalding thirst and hunger fierce, Though to delude them sent, could not abstain, But on they rolled in heaps, and up the trees Climbing, sat thicker than the snaky locks That curl'd Megaera: greedily they pluck'd The fruitage fair to sight, like that which grew Near that bituminous lake where Sodom flam'd; This more delusive, not the touch, but taste deceived; they fondly thinking to allay Their appetite with gust, instead of fruit Chew'd bitter ashes, which th' 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 With soot and cinders fill'd; so oft they fell Into the same illusion, not as man Whom they triumph'd once lapsed. thus were they plagu'd 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't. However some tradition they dispers'd Among the heathen of their purchase got, And fabl'd how the serpent, whom they call'd Ophion with Eurynome, the wide Encroaching Eve perhaps, had first the rule Of high Olympus, thence by Saturn driv'n And Ops, ere yet dictaen Jove was born. Mean while in Paradise the hellish pair Too soon arriv'd, Sin there in power before, Once actual, now in body, and to dwell Habitual habitant; behind her Death Close following pace for pace, not mounted yet On his pale horse: to whom Sin thus began.
Second of Satan sprung, all conquering Death, What thinkst thou of our empire now, though earn'd With travail difficult, not better far Than still at hell's dark threshold to have sate watch, Unnam'd, undreaded, and thy self 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 ravin I may meet; Which here, though plenteous, all too little seems To stuff this maw, this vast unhide-bound corpse.
To whom th' incestuous mother thus repli'd. Thou therefore on these herbs, and fruits, and flow'rs Feed first, on each beast next, and fish, and fowl, No homely morsels, and whatever thing The scythe 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, Both to destroy, or unimmortal make All kinds, and for destruction to mature Sooner or later; which th' almighty seeing, From his transcendent seat the Saints among, To those bright orders utter'd thus his voice.
See with what heat these dogs of Hell advance To waste and havoc yonder world, which I So fair and good created, and had still Kept in that state, had not the folly of man Let in these wasteful Furies, who impute Folly to me, so doth the prince of Hell And his adherents, that with so much ease I suffer them to enter and possess A place so heav'nly, and conniving seem To gratify my scornful enemies, That laugh, as if transported with some fit Of passion, I to them had quitted all, At random yielded up to their misrule; And know not that I call'd and drew them thither My Hell-hounds, to lick up the draff and filth Which man's polluting Sin with taint hath shed On what was pure, till cramm'd and gorg'd, nigh burst With sucked and glutted offal, at one sling Of thy victorious arm, well-pleasing Son, Both Sin, and Death, and yawning Grave at last Through Chaos hurl'd, obstruct the mouth of Hell For ever, and seal up his ravenous jaws. Then heav'n and earth renew'd shall be made pure To sanctity that shall receive no stain: Till then the curse pronounc't on both precedes.
He ended, and the heav'nly audience loud Sung Halleluia, 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, Destin'd restorer of mankind, by whom New heav'n and earth shall to the ages rise, Or down from heav'n descend. such was their song, While the Creator calling forth by name His mighty angels gave them several charge, As sorted best with present things. the sun Had first his precept so to move, so shine, As might affect the earth with cold and heat Scarce tolerable, and from the north to call Decrepit winter, from the south to bring Solstitial summer's heat. to the blanc moon Her office they prescrib'd, to th' other five Their planetary motions and aspects In sextile, square, and Trine, and Opposite, Of noxious efficacy, and when to join In synod unbenign, and taught the fixed Their influence malignant when to show'r, 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 terror through the dark aerial hall. Some say he bid his angels turn askance The poles of earth twice ten degrees and more From the sun's axle; they with labour push'd Oblique the centric globe: some say the sun Was bid turn reins from th' equinoctial road Like distant breadth to Taurus with the seven Atlantick sisters, and the Spartan twins Up to the Tropic Crab; thence down amain By Leo and the Virgin and the Scales, A deep as Capricorne, to bring in change Of seasons to each clime; else had the spring Perpetual smil'd on earth with vernant flow'rs, Equal in days and nights, except to those Beyond the polar circles; to them day Had unbenighted shone, while the low sun To recompense his distance, in their sight Had rounded still th' Horizon, and not known Or east or west, which had forbid the snow From cold Estotiland, and south as far Beneath Magellan. at that tasted fruit The sun, as from Thyestean banquet, turn'd His course intended; else how had the world Inhabited, though sinless, more than now, Avoided pinching cold and scorching heat? These changes in the heav'ns, though slow, produc'd Like change on sea and land, sidereal blast, Vapour, and mist, and exhalation hot, Corrupt and pestilent: now from the north Of Normbega, and the Samoed shore Bursting their brazen dungeon, arm'd with ice And snow and hail and stormy gust and flaw, Boreas and Caecias and Argestes loud And Thrascias rend the woods and seas upturn; With adverse blast up-turns them from the south Notus and Afer black with thund'rous clouds From Serraliona; thwart of these as fierce Forth rush the Levant and the Ponent winds Eurus and Zephir with their lateral noise, Sirocco, and Libecchio, thus began Outrage from lifeless things; but discord first Daughter of Sin, among th' irrational, Death introduc'd through fierce antipathy: Beast now with beast gan war, and fowl with fowl, And fish with fish; to graze the herb all leaving, Devour'd each other; nor stood much in awe Of man, but fled him, or with count'nance 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 troubl'd sea of passion tossed, Thus to disburden sought with sad complaint.
O miserable of happy! is this the end Of this new glorious world, and me so late The glory of that glory, who now become Accurst of blessed, hide me from the face Of God, whom to behold was then my height Of happiness: yet well, if here would end The misery, I deserv'd it, and would bear My own deservings; but this will nor serve; All that I eat or drink, or shall beget, Is propagated curse. O voice once heard Delightfully, increase and multiply, Now death to hear! for what can I increase Or multiply, but curses on my head? Who of all ages to succeed, but feeling The evil on him brought by me, will curse My head, ill fare our ancestor impure, For this we may thank Adam; but his thanks Shall be the execration; so besides Mine own that bide upon me, all from me Shall with a fierce reflux on me redound, On me as on their natural centre light Heavy, though in their place. O fleeting joys Of Paradise, dear bought with lasting woes! Did I request thee, maker, from my clay To mould me man, did I solicit thee From darkness to promote me, or here place In this delicious garden? as my will Concurr'd not to my being, it were but right And equal to reduce me to my dust, Desirous to resign, and render back All I receiv'd, unable to perform Thy terms too hard, by which I was to hold The good I sought not. to the loss of that, Sufficient penalty, why hast thou added The sense of endless woes? inexplicable Thy justice seems; yet to say truth, too late, I thus contest; then should have been refus'd Those terms whatever, when they were propos'd: Thou didst accept them; wilt thou enjoy the good, Then cavil the conditions? and though God Made thee without thy leave, what if thy Son Prove disobedient, and reprov'd, retort, Wherefore didst thou beget me? I sought it not Wouldst thou admit for his contempt of thee That proud excuse? yet him not thy election, But natural necessity begot. God made thee of choice his own, and of his own To serve him, thy reward was of his grace, Thy punishment then justly is at his will. Be it so, for I submit, his doom is fair, That dust I am, and shall to dust return: O welcome hour whenever! why delays His hand to execute what his decree Fixed on this day? why do I overlive, Why am I mocked with death, and length'nd out To deathless pain? how gladly would I meet Mortality my sentence, and be earth, Insensible, how glad would lay me down As in my mother's lap? there I should rest And sleep secure; his dreadful voice no more Would thunder in my ears, no fear of worse To me and to my offspring would torment me With cruel expectation. yet one doubt Pursues me still, lest all I cannot die, Lest that pure breath of life, the spirit of man Which God 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? O thought Horrid, if true! yet why? it was but breath Of life that sinn'd; what dies but what had life And sin? the body properly hath 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? be it, man is not so, But mortal doom'd. how can he exercise Wrath without end on man whom Death must end? Can he make deathless Death? that were to make Strange contradiction, which to God himself Impossible is held, as argument Of weakness, not of power. will he, draw out, For anger's sake, finite to infinite In punish'd man, to satisfy his rigour Satisfi'd 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 th' extent of their own sphere. but say That Death be not one stroke, as I suppos'd, Bereaving sense, but endless misery From this day onward, which I feel begun Both in me, and without me, and so last To perpetuity; ay me, that fear Comes thund'ring back with dreadful revolution On my defenceless head; both Death and I Am sound Eternal, and incorporate both, Nor I on my part single, in me all Posterity stands curst: fair patrimony That I must leave ye, sons; O were I able To waste it all my self, and leave ye none! So disinherited how would ye bless Me now your curse! ah, why should all mankind For one man's fault thus guiltless be condemn'd, If guiltless? but from me what can proceed, But all corrupt, both mind and will deprav'd, Not to do only, but to will the same With me? how can they then acquitted stand In sight of God? him after all disputes Forc't I absolve: all my evasions vain, And reasonings, though through mazes, lead me still But to my own conviction: first and last On me, me only, as the source and spring 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? thus what thou desir'st And what thou fearst, alike destroys all hope Of refuge, and concludes thee miserable Beyond all past example and future, To Satan only like both crime and doom. O conscience, into what abyss of fears And horrors hast thou driv'n me; out of which I 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 terror: on the ground Outstretched he lay, on the cold ground, and oft Curs'd his creation, Death as oft accus'd Of tardy execution, since denounc't The day of his offence. why comes not Death, Said he, with one thrice acceptable stroke To end me? shall truth fail to keep her word, Justice divine not hasten to be just? But Death comes not at call, justice divine Mends not her slowest pace for prayers or cries. O woods, O fountains, hillocks, dales and bowers, With other echo late I taught your shades To answer, and resound far other song. Whom thus afflicted when sad Eve beheld, Desolate where she sate, approaching nigh, Soft words to his fierce passion she assay'd: But her with stern regard he thus repell'd.
Out of my sight, thou serpent, that name best Befits thee with him leagu'd, thy self as false And hateful; nothing wants, but that thy shape, Like his, and colour serpentine may show Thy inward fraud, to warn all creatures from thee Henceforth; lest that too heav'nly form, pretended To hellish falsehood, snare them. but for thee I had persisted happy, had not thy pride And wand'ring vanity, when least was safe, Rejected my forewarning, and disdain'd Not to be trusted, longing to be seen Though by the devil himself, him overweening To over-reach, but with the serpent meeting Fool'd and beguil'd, by him thou, I by thee, To trust thee from my side, 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. O why did God, Creator wise, that peopled highest heav'n With spirits masculine, create at last This novelty on earth, this fair defect Of nature, and not fill the world at once With men as angels without feminine, Or find some other way to generate Mankind? this mischief had not then befall'n, And more that shall befall, innumerable Disturbances on earth through female snares, And straight conjunction with this sex: for either He never shall find out fit mate, but such As some misfortune brings him, or mistake, Or whom he wishes most shall seldom gain Through her perverseness, but shall see her gain'd By a far worse, or if she love, withheld By parents, or his happiest choice too late Shall meet, already linked 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, And tresses all disorder'd, at his feet Fell humble, and embracing them, besought His peace, and thus proceeded in her plaint.
Forsake me not thus, Adam, witness heav'n What love sincere, and reverence in my heart I bear thee, and unweeting have offended, Unhappily deceived; thy suppliant I beg, and clasp thy knees; bereave me not, Whereon I live, thy gentle looks, thy aid, Thy counsel in this uttermost distress, My only strength and stay: forlorn of thee, Whither shall I betake me, where subsist? While yet we live, scarce one short hour perhaps, Between us two let there be peace, both joining, As join'd in injuries, one enmity Against a foe by doom express assign'd us, That cruel serpent: on me exercise not Thy hatred for this misery befall'n, On me already lost, me then thy self More miserable; both have sin'd, but thou Against God only, I against God and thee, And to the place of judgment will return, There with my cries importune Heaven, that all The sentence from thy head 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, Immoveable till peace obtain'd from fault Acknowledg'd and deplor'd, in Adam wrought Commiseration; soon his heart relented Towards her, his life so late and sole delight, Now at his feet submissive in distress, Creature so fair his reconcilement seeking, His counsel whom she had 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 desir'st The punishment all on thy self; alas, Bear thine own first, ill able to sustain His full wrath whose thou feelst as yet least part, And my displeasure bearst 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 forgiv'n, 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 light'n Each other's burden in our share of woe; Since this day's Death denounc't, if ought I see, Will prove no sudden, but a slow pac't evil, A long day's dying to augment our pain, And to our seed (O hapless seed!) deriv'd.
To whom thus Eve, recovering heart, repli'd. Adam, by sad experiment I know How little weight my words with thee can find, Found so erroneous, thence by just event Found so unfortunate; nevertheless, 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 ris'n, 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 By Death at last, and miserable it is To be to others cause of misery, Our own begotten, and of our loins to bring Into this cursed world a woeful race, That after wretched life must be at last Food for so foul a monster, in thy power It lies, yet ere conception to prevent The race unblest, to being yet unbegot. Childless thou art, Childless remain: So Death shall be deceived his glut, and with us two Be forc'd to satisfy his rav'nous 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 our selves and seed at once to free From what we fear for both, let us make short, Let us seek Death, or he not found, supply With our own hands his office on our selves; 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 dyed her cheeks with pale. But Adam with such counsel nothing sway'd, To better hopes his more attentive mind Labouring had rais'd, and thus to Eve repli'd.
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 saught, refutes That excellence 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 Of misery, so thinking to evade The penalty pronounc't, doubt not but God Hath wiselier arm'd his vengeful ire than so To be forestall'd; much more I fear lest Death So snatched will not exempt us from the pain We are by doom to pay; rather such acts Of contumacy will provoke the highest To make death in us live: then let us seek Some safer resolution, which methinks I have in view, calling to mind with heed Part of our sentence, that thy seed shall bruise The serpent's head; piteous amends, unless Be meant, whom I conjecture, our grand foe Satan, who in the serpent hath contriv'd Against us this deceit: to crush his head Would be revenge indeed; which will be lost By death brought on our selves, 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. No more be mention'd then of violence Against our selves, 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 Pains only in child-bearing were foretold, And bringing forth, soon recompenc't with joy, Fruit of thy womb: on me the curse aslope Glanc'd on the ground, with labour I must earn My bread; what harm? idleness had been worse; My labour will sustain me; and lest cold Or heat should injure us, his timely care Hath unbesought provided, and his hands Clothed us unworthy, pitying while he judg'd; How much more, if we pray him, will his ear Be open, and his heart to pity incline, And teach us further by what means to shun Th' inclement seasons, rain, ice, hail and snow, Which now the sky with various face begins To show us in this mountain, while the winds Blow moist and keen, shattering the graceful locks Of these fair spreading trees; which bids us seek Some better shroud, some better warmth to cherish 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 Jostling or pushed with winds rude in their shock Tine the slant lightning, whose thwart flame driv'n 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, He will instruct us praying, and of grace Beseeching him, so as we need not fear To pass commodiously 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 Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign Of sorrow unfeign'd, and humiliation meek. Undoubtedly he will relent and turn From his displeasure; in whose look serene, When angry most he seem'd and most severe, What else but favour, grace, and mercy shone?
So spake our Father penitent, nor Eve Felt less remorse: they forthwith to the place Repairing where he judg'd them prostrate fell Before him reverent, and both confess'd Humbly their faults, and pardon beg'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 XI.
THE ARGUMENT.
The Son of God presents to his Father the prayers of our first parents now repenting, 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 denounces 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 happ'n till the flood.
THus they in lowliest plight repentant stood Praying, for from the mercy-seat above Prevenient grace descending had remov'd The stony from their hearts, & made new flesh Regenerate grow instead, that sighs now breath'd Unutterable, which the Spirit of prayer Inspir'd, and wing'd for Heav'n with speedier flight Than loudest oratory: yet their port Not of mean suitors, nor important less Seem'd their petition, then when th' ancient pair In fables old, less ancient yet than these, Deucalion and chaste Pyrtha to restore The race of mankind drown'd, before the shrine Of Themis stood devout. To Heav'n their prayers Flew up, nor miss'd the way, by envious winds Blown vagabond or frustrate: in they pass'd Dimensionless through Heav'nly doors; then clad With incense, where the golden altar fum'd, By their great Intercessor, came in sight Before the Father's throne: them the glad Son 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 this golden censer, mixed With incense, I thy priest before thee bring, Fruits of more pleasing savour from thy seed Sown with contrition in his heart, than those Which his own hand manuring all the trees Of Paradise could have produc'd, ere fall'n From innocence. Now therefore bend thine ear To supplication, hear his sighs though mute; Unskillful with what words to pray, let me Interpret for him, me his advocate And propitiation, all his works on me Good or not good ingraft, my merit those Shall perfect, and for these my death shall pay. Accept me, and in me from these receive The smell of peace toward mankind, let him live Before thee reconcil'd, at least his days Number'd, though sad, till death, his doom (which I To mitigate thus plead, not to reverse) To better life shall yield him, where with me All my redeem'd may dwell in joy and bliss, Made one with me as I with thee am one.
To whom the Father, without cloud, serene. All thy request for man, accepted Son, Obtain, all thy request was my decree: But longer in that Paradise to dwell, The law I gave to nature him forbids: Those pure immortal elements that know No gross, no unharmonious mixture foul, Eject him tainted now, and purge him off As a distemper, gross to air as gross, And mortal food, as may dispose him best For dissolution wrought by sin, that first Distemper'd all things, and of incorrupt Corrupted. I at first with two fair gifts Created him endow'd, with happiness And immortality: that fondly lost, This other serv'd but to eternize woe; Till I provided death; so death becomes His final remedy, and after life Tri'd in sharp tribulation, and refin'd By faith and faithful works, to second life, Wak't in the renovation of the just, Resigns him up with Heav'n and earth renew'd. But let us call to synod all the blest Through Heav'n's wide bounds; from them I will not hide My judgments, 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. Th' angelic blast fill'd all the regions: from their blissful bow'rs Of Amarantin shade, fountain or spring, By the waters of life, where ere they sate In fellowships of joy: the sons of light Hasted, resorting to the summons high, And took their seats; till from his throne supreme Th' Almighty thus pronounc'd his sovereign will.
O sons, like one of us man is become To know both good and evil, since his taste Of that defended fruit; but let him boast His knowledge of good lost, and evil got, Happier, had it suffic'd him to have known Good by it self, 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 Reach 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 Thy choice of flaming warriors, lest the fiend Or in behalf of man, or to invade Vacant possession some new trouble raise: Haste thee, and from the Paradise of God Without remorse drive out the sinful pair, From hallow'd ground th' 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 softn'd and with tears Bewailing their excess, all terror hide. If patiently thy bidding they obey, Dismiss them not disconsolate; reveal To Adam what shall come in future days, As I shall thee enlighten, intermix 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, Cherubic watch, and of a sword the flame Wide waving, all approach far off to fright, And guard all passage to the tree of life: Lest Paradise a receptacle prove To spirits foul, and all my trees their prey, With whose stol'n fruit man once more to delude.
He ceas'd; and th' archangelic power prepar'd For swift descent, with him the cohort bright Of watchful cherubim; four faces each Had, like a double Janus, all their shape Spangl'd with eyes more numerous than those Of Argus, and more wakeful than to drowse, Charm'd with Arcadian pipe, the pastoral reed Of Hermes, or his opiate rod. Mean while To resalute the world with sacred light Leucothea 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 linked; Which thus to Eve his welcome words renew'd.
Eve, easily may faith admit, that all The good which we enjoy, from Heav'n descends; But that from us ought should ascend to Heav'n 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, up-borne Ev'n to the seat of God. For since I sought By prayer th' offended deity to appease, Kneel'd and before him humbl'd all my heart, Methought I saw him placable and mild, Bending his ear; persuasion in me grew That I was heard with favour; peace return'd Home to my breast, and to my memory His promise, that thy seed shall bruise our foe; Which then not minded in dismay, yet now Assures me that the bitterness of death Is past, and we shall live. Whence Hail to thee, Eve rightly call'd, mother of all mankind, Mother of all things living, since by thee Man is to live, and all things live for man.
To whom thus Eve with sad demeanour meek. Ill worthy I such title should belong To me transgressor, who for thee ordain'd A help, became thy snare; to me reproach Rather belongs, distrust and all dispraise: But infinite in pardon was my judge, That I who first brought death on all, am grac't The source of life; next favourable thou, Who highly thus to entitle me vouchsaf'st, 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? Here let us live, though in fall'n state, content.
So spake, so wish'd much-humbl•d Eve, but fate Subscrib'd not; nature first gave signs, impressed On bird, beast, air, air suddenly eclips'd After short blush of morn; nigh in her sight The bird of jove, stooped from his airy tower, Two birds of gayest plume before him drove: Down from a hill the beast that reigns in woods, First hunter then, pursu'd a gentle brace, Goodliest of all the forest, hart and hind; Direct to th' eastern gate was bent their flight. Adam observ'd, and with his eye the chase Pursuing, not unmov'd to Eve thus spake.
O Eve, some further change awaits us nigh, Which Heav'n 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 released Some days; how long, and what till then our life, Who knows, or more than this, that we are dust, And thither must return and be no more. Why else this double object in our sight Of flight pursu'd in th' 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're the blue firmament a radiant white, And slow descends, with something Heav'nly fraught.
He err'd not, for by this the Heav'nly bands Down from a sky of jasper lighted now In Paradise, and on a hill made halt, A glorious apparition, had not doubt And carnal fear that day dimm'd Adam's eye. Not that more glorious, when the angels met Jacob in Mahanaim, where he saw The field pavilion'd with his guardians bright; Nor that which on the flaming mount appear'd In Dothan, cover'd with a camp of fire, Against the Syrian king, who to surprise One man, assassin-like had levied war, War unproclaim'd. The princely hierarch In their bright stand, there left his powers to 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'd, 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 Heav'nly host, and by his gait None of the meanest, some great potentate Or of the thrones above, such majesty Invests him coming? Yet not terrible, That I should fear, nor sociably mild, As raphael, that I should much confide, But solemn and sublime, whom not to offend, With reverence I must meet, and thou retire. He ended; and th' arch-angel soon drew nigh, Not in his shape celestial, but as man Clad to meet man; over his lucid arms A military vest of purple flow'd Livelier than Meliboean, or the grain Of Sarra, worn by kings and hero's old In time of truce; Iris had dipped the woof; His starry helm unbuckl'd show'd him prime In manhood where youth ended; by his side As in a glistering Zodiac hung the sword, Satan's dire dread, and in his hand the spear. Adam bow'd low, he kingly from his state Inclin'd not, but his coming thus declar'd.
Adam, Heav'n's high behest no preface needs: Sufficient that thy prayers are heard, and death, Then due by sentence when thou didst transgress, Defeated of his seizure many days Giv'n thee of grace, wherein thou may'st repent, And one bad act with many deeds well done Mayst 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, And send thee from the garden forth to till The ground whence thou wast tak'n, fitter soil.
He added not, for Adam at the news Heart-strook 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.
O unexpected stroke, worse than of death! Must I thus leave thee Paradise? Thus leave Thee native soil, these happy walks and shades, Fit haunt of Gods? Where I had hope to spend, Quiet though sad, the respite of that day That must be mortal to us both. O flowers, That never will in other climate grow, My early visitation, and my last At eev'n, which I bred up with tender hand From the first op'ning bud, and gave ye names, Who now shall rear ye to the sun, or rank Your tribes, and water from th' ambrosial fount? Thee lastly nuptial bower, by me adorn'd With what to sight or smell was sweet; from thee How shall I part, and whither wander down Into a lower world, to this obscure And wild, how shall we breathe in other air Less pure, accustom'd to immortal fruits?
Whom thus the angel interrupted mild. Lament not Eve, but patiently resign What justly thou hast lost; nor set thy heart, Thus over-fond, on that which is not thine; Thy going is not lonely, with thee goes Thy husband, him to follow thou art bound; Where he abides, think there thy native soil.
Adam by this from the cold sudden damp Recovering, and his scatter'd spirits return'd. To Michael thus his humble words address'd.
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 Of sorrow and dejection and despair Our frailty can sustain, thy tidings bring, Departure from this happy place, our sweet Recess, and only consolation left Familiar to our eyes, all places else Inhospitable appear and desolate, Nor knowing us nor known: and if by prayer Incessant I could hope to change the will Of him who all things can, I would not cease To weary him with my assiduous cries: But prayer against his absolute decree No more avails than breath against the wind, Blown stifling back on him that breathes it forth: Therefore to his great bidding I submit. This most afflicts me, that departing hence, As from his face I shall be hid, depriv'd His blessed countenance; here I could frequent, With worship, place by place where he vouchsaf 'd Presence divine, and to my sons relate; On this mount he appear'd, under this tree Stood visible, among these pines his voice I heard, here with him at this fountain 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 foot step-trace? For though I fled him angry, yet recall'd 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 Heav'n 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 th' earth he gave thee to possess and rule, No despicable gift; surmise not then 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 th' earth, to celebrate And reverence thee their great progenitor. But this preeminence thou hast lost, brought down To dwell on even ground now with thy sons: Yet doubt not but in valley and in plain God is as here, and will be found alike Present, and of his presence many a sign Still following thee, still compassing thee round With goodness and paternal love, his face Express, and of his steps the track divine. Which that thou mayst 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 True patience, and to temper joy with fear And pious sorrow, equally inured 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 drencht her eyes) Here sleep below while thou to foresight wak'st, As once thou slepst, while she to life was form'd.
To whom thus Adam gratefully repli'd. Ascend, I follow thee, safe guide, the path Thou lead'st me, and to the hand of Heav'n submit, However chast'ning, 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 Stretched out to the amplest reach of prospect lay. Not higher that hill nor wider looking round, Whereon for different cause the tempter set Our second Adam in the wilderness, To show him all earth's kingdoms and their glory. His eye might there command wherever stood City of old or modern fame, the seat Of mightiest empire, from the destind walls Of Cambalu, seat of Cathaian Can And Samarchand by Oxus, Temir's throne, To Paquin of Sinaean kings, and thence To Agra and Lahor of great Mogul Down to the golden Chersonese, or where The Persian in Ecbatan sate, or since In Hispahan, or where the Russian Kfar In Mosco, or the sultan in Bizance, Turchestan-born; nor could his eye not ken Th' empire of Negus to his utmost port Ercoco and the less maritime kings Mombaza, and Quiloa, and Melind, And Sofala thought Ophir, to the realm Of Congo, and Angola farthest south; Or thence from Niger flood to Atlas mount The kingdoms of Almansor, Fez and Sus, Marocco 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 Motezume, And Cusco in Peru, the richer seat Of Atabalipa, and yet unspoil'd Guiana, whose great city Geryon's sons Call El Dorado: but to nobler sights Michael from Adam's eyes the film remov'd Which that false fruit that promis'd clearer sight 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't to close his eyes, Sunk down and all his spirits became entranced: But him the gentle angel by the hand Soon rais'd, and his attention thus recall'd.
Adam, now ope thine eyes, and first behold Th' effects which thy original crime hath wrought In some to spring from thee, who never touch'd Th' excepted tree, nor with the snake conspir'd, Nor sinn'd thy sin, yet from that derive Corruption to bring forth more violent deeds.
His eyes he op'nd, and beheld a field, Part arable and tilth, whereon were sheaves New reaped, the other part sheep-walks and folds; Ith' midst an altar as the land-mark stood Rustic, of grassy sward; 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. His offering soon propitious fire from Heav'n Consum'd with nimble glance, and grateful steam; The other's not, for his was not sincere; Whereat he inly rag'd, and as they talk'd, Smote him into the midriff with a stone That beat out life; he fell, and deadly pale Groan'd out his soul with gushing blood effus'd. Much at that sight was Adam in his heart Dismay'd, and thus in haste to th' angel cri'd.
O teacher, some great mischief hath befall'n To that meek man, who well had sacrific'd; Is piety thus and pure devotion paid?
T' whom Michael thus, he also mov'd, repli'd. These two are brethren, Adam, and to come Out of thy loins; th' unjust the just hath slain, For envy that his brother's offering found From Heav'n acceptance; but the bloody fact Will be aveng'd, and th' other's faith approv'd Lose no reward, though here thou see him die, Rolling in dust and gore. To which our sire.
Alas, both for the deed and for the cause! But have I now seen death? Is this the way I must return to native dust? O sight Of terror, foul and ugly to behold, Horrid to think, how horrible to feel!
To whom thus Michael. death thou hast seen In his first shape on man; but many shapes Of death, and many are the ways that lead To his grim cave, all dismal; yet to sense More terrible at th' entrance than within. Some, as thou saw'st, by violent stroke shall die, By fire, flood, famine, by intemperance more In meats and drinks which on the earth shall bring Diseases dire, of which a monstrous crew Before thee shall appear; that thou mayst know What misery th' inabstinence of Eve Shall bring on men. Immediately a place Before his eyes appear'd, sad, noisome, dark, A lazar-house it seem'd, wherein were laid Numbers of all diseas'd, all maladies Of ghastly spasm, or racking torture, qualms Of heart-sick agony, all feverous kinds, Convulsions, epilepsies, fierce catarrhs, Intestine stone and ulcer, colic pangs, Demoniac frenzy, moping melancholy And moon-struck madness, pining atrophy, Marasmus, and wide-wasting pestilence, Dropsies, and asthmas, and joint-racking rheums. Dire was the tossing, deep the groans, despair Tended the sick busiest from couch to couch; And over them triumphant death his dart Shook, but delay'd to strike, though oft invok't With vows, as their chief good, and final hope. Sight so deform what heart of rock could long Dry-ey'd 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,
O miserable mankind, to what fall Degraded, to what wretched state reserv'd! Better end here unborn. Why is life giv'n To be thus wrested from us? Rather why Obtruded on us thus? 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 dismissed in peace. Can thus Th' image of God in man created once So goodly and erect, though faulty since, To such unsightly sufferings be debas't Under inhuman pains? Why should not man, Retaining still divine similitude In part, from such deformities be free, And for his maker's image sake exempt? Their maker's image, answer'd Michael then Forsook them, when themselves they vilifi'd To serve ungovern'd appetite, and took His image whom they serv'd, a brutish vice, Inductive mainly to the sin of Eve. Therefore so abject is their punishment, Disfiguring not God's likeness, but their own, Or if his likeness, by themselves defac't While they pervert pure nature's healthful rules To loathsome sickness, worthily, since they God's image did not reverence in themselves.
I yield it just, said Adam, and submit. But is there yet no other way, besides These painful passages, how we may come To death, and mix with our connatural dust?
There is, said Michael, if thou well observe The rule of not too much, by temperance taught In what thou eatst and drinkst, seeking from thence Due nourishment, not gluttonous delight, Till many years over thy head return: So maist thou live, till like ripe fruit thou drop Into thy mother's lap, or be with ease Gather'd, not harshly plucked, for death mature: This is old age; but then thou must outlive Thy youth, thy strength, thy beauty, which will change To wither'd weak and grey; thy senses then Obtuse, all taste of pleasure must forgo, To what thou hast, and for the air of youth Hopeful and cheerful, in thy blood will reign A melancholy damp of cold and dry To weigh thy spirits down, and last consume The balm of life. To whom our ancestor.
Henceforth I fly not death, nor would prolong Life much, bent rather how I may be quit Fairest and easiest of this cumbrous charge, Which I must keep till my appointed day Of rend'ring up, and patiently attend My dissolution. Michael repli'd,
Nor love thy life, nor hate; but what thou livst Live well, how long or short permit to Heav'n: And now prepare thee for another sight.
He look'd and saw a spacious plain, whereon Were tents of various hue; by some were herds Of cattle grazing: others, whence the sound Of instruments that made melodious chime Was heard, of harp and organ; and who mov'd Their stops and chords was seen: his volant touch Instinct through all proportions low and high Fled and pursu'd transverse the resonant fugue. In other part stood one who at the forge Labouring, two massy clods of iron and brass Had melted (whether found where casual fire Had wasted woods on mountain or in vale, Down to the veins of earth, thence gliding hot To some caves mouth, or whether washed by stream From underground) the liquid ore he drain'd Into fit moulds prepar'd; from which he form'd First his own tools; then, what might else be wrought Fusil or grav'n 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 Not hid, nor those things last which might preserve Freedom and peace to men: they on the plain Long had not walked, 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, ey'd 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 th' evening star Love's harbinger appear'd; then all in heat They light the nuptial torch, and bid invoke Hymen, then first to marriage rites invok't; 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 inclin'd 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; 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, Unmindful of their maker, though his Spirit Taught them, but they his gifts acknowledg'd none. Yet they abeauteous offspring shall beget; For that fair female troop thou saw'st, that seem'd Of goddesses, so blithe, so smooth, so gay, Yet empty of all good wherein consists Woman's domestic honour and chief praise; Bred only and completed to the taste Of lustful appetence, to sing, to dance, To dress, and troll the tongue, and roll the eye. To these that sober race of men, whose lives Religious titl'd 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. O pity and shame, that they who to live well Enter'd so fair, should turn aside to tread Paths indirect, or in the mid way 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 th' angel, who should better hold his place By wisdom, and superior 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 tow'rs, Concourse in arms, fierce faces threat'ning 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 must'ring stood; One way a band select from forage drives A herd of beeves, fair oxen and fair kine From a fat meadow ground; or fleecy flock, Ewes and their bleating lambs over the plain, Their booty; scarce with life the shepherds fly, But calling 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 th' ensanguin'd field Deserted: others to a city strong Lay siege, encamped; by battery, scale, and mine, Assaulting; others from the wall defend With dart and jav'lin, stones and sulfurous fire; On each hand slaughter and gigantic deeds. In other part the sceptred heralds call To council in the city gates: anon Grey-headed men and grave, with warriors mixed, Assemble, and harangues are heard, but soon In factious opposition, till at last Of middle age one rising, eminent In wise deport, spake much of right and wrong, Of justice, of religion, truth and peace, And judgment from above: him old and young Exploded and had seiz'd with violent hands, Had not a cloud descending snatch'd him thence 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; o what are these, Death's ministers, not men, who thus deal death Inhumanly to men, and multiply Ten thousand fold the sin of him who slew His brother; for of whom such massacre Make they but of their brethren, men of men? But who was that just man, whom had not Heav'n Rescu'd, 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 matched, who of themselves Abhor to join; and by imprudence mixed, 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 heroic virtue call'd; To overcome in battle, and subdue Nations, and bring home spoils with infinite Man-slaughter, shall be held the highest pitch Of human glory, and for glory done Of triumph, to be styl'd great conquerors, Patrons of mankind, Gods, and sons of Gods, Destroyers rightlier call'd and plagues of men. Thus fame shall be achiev'd, renown on earth, And what most merits fame in silence hid. But he the seventh from thee, whom thou beheldst 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 Rapt in a balmy cloud with winged steeds Did, as thou saw'st, receive, to walk with God High in salvation and the climes of bliss, Exempt from death; to show thee what reward Awaits the good, the rest what punishment? Which now direct thine eyes and soon behold.
He look'd, and saw the face of things quite chang'd, The brazen throat of war had ceased to roar, 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 among them came, And of their doings great dislike declar'd, And testifi'd against their ways; he oft Frequented their assemblies, where so met, Triumphs or festivals, and to them preach'd Conversion and repentance, as to souls. In prison under judgments imminent: But all in vain: which when he saw, he ceas'd Contending, and remov'd his tents far off; Then from the mountain hewing timber tall, Began to build a vessel of huge bulk, Measur'd by cubit, length, and breadth, and height, Smear'd round with pitch, and in the side a door 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 southwind rose, and with black wings Wide hovering, all the clouds together drove From under Heav'n; the hills to their supply Vapour, and exhalation dusk and moist, Sent up amain; and now the thick'nd sky Like a dark ceiling stood; down rush'd the rain Impetuous, and continu'd till the earth No more was seen; the floating vessel swum Uplifted; and secure with beaked prow Rode tilting o're 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 stabl'd; of mankind, so numerous late, All left, in one small bottom swum embark'd. How didst thou grieve then, Adam, to behold The end of all thy offspring, end so sad, Depopulation; thee another flood, Of tears and sorrow a flood thee also drown'd, And sunk thee as thy sons; till gently rear'd By th' angel, on thy feet thou stoodst at last, Though comfortless, as when a Father mourns His children, all in view destroy'd at once; And scarce to th' angel utterdst thus thy plaint.
O visions ill foreseen! Better had I Liv'd ignorant of future, so had borne My part of evil only, each day's lot Enough to bear; those now, that were dispensed The burd'n of many ages, on me light At once, by my foreknowledge gaining birth Abortive, to torment me ere their being, With thought that they must be. Let no man seek Henceforth to be foretold what shall befall Him or his children, evil he may be sure, Which neither his foreknowing can prevent, And he the future evil shall no less In apprehension than in substance feel Grievous to bear: but that care now is past, Man is not whom to warne: those few escap't Famine and anguish will at last consume Wand'ring that watery desert: I had hope When violence was ceas't, and war on earth, All would have then gone well, peace would have crown'd With length of happy days the race of man; But I was far 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; 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 conquerd also, and enslav'd by war Shall with their freedom lost all virtue lose And fear of God, from whom their piety feign'd In sharp contest of battle found no aid Against invaders; therefore cool'd in zeal Thenceforth shall practice how to live secure, Worldly or dissolute, on what their Lords Shall leave them to enjoy; for th' earth shall bear More than enough, that temperance may be tri'd: So all shall turn degenerate, all deprav'd, Justice and temperance, truth and faith forgot; One man except, the only Son of light In a dark age, against example good, Against allurement, custom, and a world Offended; fearless of reproach and scorn, Or violence, he of their wicked ways Shall them admonish, and before them set The paths of righteousness, how much more safe, And full of peace, denouncing wrath to come On their impenitence; and shall returne Of them derided, but of God observ'd The one just man alive; by his command Shall build a wondrous ark, as thou beheldst, To save himself and household from amidst A world devote to universal rack. 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 Heav'n 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 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 op'ning gulf, And there take root an island salt and bare, The haunt of seals and orcs, 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, Which now abated, for the clouds were fled, Driven by a keen north-wind, that blowing dry Wrinkl'd the face of deluge, as decay'd; And the clear sun on his wide watery glass 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 stopped His sluices, as the Heav'n his windows shut. The ark no more now floats, but seems on ground Fast on the top of some high mountain fixed. And now the tops of hills as rocks appear; With clamor 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, pacific sign: Anon dry ground appears, and from his ark The ancient sire descends with all his train; Then with uplifted hands, and eyes devout, Grateful to Heav'n, over his head beholds A dewy cloud, and in the cloud a bow Conspicuous with three listed colours gay, Betok'ning peace from God, and covenant new. Whereat the heart of Adam erst so sad Greatly rejoic'd, and thus his joy broke forth.
O thou who future things canst represent As present, Heav'nly 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, That God vouchsafes to raise another world From him, and all his anger to forget. 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 showr the earth?
To whom th' archangel. Dextrously 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, That he relents, nor 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 Heav'n and earth, wherein the just shall dwell.