Book XII
Paradise Lost
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.
BOOK XII.
THE ARGUMENT.
The angel Michael continues from the Flood to relate what shall succeed; then, in the mention of Abraham, comes by degrees to explain, who that seed of the woman shall be, which was promised Adam and Eve in the fall; his incarnation, death, resurrection, and ascension; the state of the church till his second coming. Adam greatly satisfied and recomforted by these relations and promises descends the hill with Michael; wakens Eve, who all this while had slept, but with gentle dreams compos'd to quietness of mind and submission. Michael in either hand leads them out of Paradise, the fiery sword waving behind them, and the Cherubim taking their stations to guard the place,
As one who in his journey bates at noon, Though bent on speed, so here the Archangel paus'd Betwixt the world destroy'd and world restor'd, If Adam aught perhaps might interpose; Then with transition sweet new speech resumes.
Thus thou hast seen one world begin and end; And man as from a second stock proceed. Much thou hast yet to see, but I perceive Thy mortal sight to fail; objects divine Must needs impair and weary human sense: Henceforth what is to come I will relate, Thou therefore give due audience, and attend. This second source of men, while yet but few; And while the dread of judgment past remains Fresh in their minds, fearing the Deity, With some regard to what is just and right Shall lead their lives, and multiply apace, Labouring the soil, and reaping plenteous crop, Corn wine and oil; and from the herd or flock, Oft sacrificing bullock, lamb, or kid, With large wine-offerings pour'd, and sacred feast, Shall spend their days in joy unblam'd, and dwell Long time in peace by families and tribes Under paternal rule; till one shall rise Of proud ambitious heart, who nor content With fair equality, fraternal state, Will arrogate dominion undeserv'd Over his brethren, and quite dispossess Concord and law of nature from the earth, Hunting (and men not beasts shall be his game) With war and hostile snare such as refuse Subjection to his empire tyrannous: A mighty hunter thence he shall be styl'd Before the Lord, as in despite of Heav'n, Or from Heav'n claiming second sovereignty; And from rebellion shall derive his name, Though of rebellion others he accuse. He with a crew, whom like ambition joins With him or under him to tyrannize, Marching from Eden towards the West, shall find The plain, wherein a black bituminous gurge Boils out from under ground, the mouth of Hell; Of brick, and of that stuff they cast to build A city and tower, whose top may reach to Heav'n; And get themselves a name, lest far dispers'd In foreign lands their memory be lost Regardless whether good or evil fame. But God who oft descends to visit men Unseen, and through their habitations walks To mark their doings, them beholding soon, Comes down to see their city, ere the tower Obstruct Heav'n's towers, and in derision sets Upon their tongues a various spirit to raze Quite out their native language, and instead To sow a jangling noise of words unknown: Forthwith a hideous gabble rises loud Among the builders; each to other calls Not understood, till hoarse, and all in rage, As mock'd they storm; great laughter was in Heav'n And looking down, to see the hubbub strange And hear the din; thus was the building left Ridiculous, and the work Confusion nam'd. Whereto thus Adam fatherly displeas'd. O execrable son so to aspire Above his brethren, to himself assuming Authority usurp'd, from God not giv'n: He gave us only over beast, fish, fowl Dominion absolute; that right we hold By his donation; but man over men He made not lord; such title to himself Reserving, human left from human free. But this usurper his encroachment proud Stays nor on man; to God his tower intends Siege and defiance: Wretched man! what food Will he convey up thither to sustain Himself and his rash army, where thin air Above the clouds will pine his entrails gross, And famish him of breath, if not of bread?
To whom thus Michael. Justly thou abhorr'st That son, who on the quiet state of men Such trouble brought, affecting to subdue Rational liberty; yet know withal, Since thy original lapse, true liberty Is lost, which always with right reason dwells Twinn'd, and from her hath no dividual being: Reason in man obscur'd, or not obey'd, Immediately inordinate desires And upstart passions catch the government From reason, and to servitude reduce Man till then free. Therefore since he permits Within himself unworthy powers to reign Over free reason, God in judgment just Subjects him from without to violent lords; Who oft as undeservedly enthrall His outward freedom: Tyranny must be, Though to the tyrant thereby no excuse. Yet sometimes nations will decline so low From virtue, which is reason, that no wrong But justice, and some fatal curse annex'd Deprives them of their outward liberty, Their inward lost: witness th' irreverent son Of him who built the ark, who for the shame Done to his father, heard this heavy curse, Servant of Servants, on his vicious race. Thus will this latter, as the former world, Still tend from bad to worse, till God at last Wearied with their iniquities, withdraw His presence from among them, and avert His holy eyes; resolving from thenceforth To leave them to their own polluted ways; And one peculiar nation to select From all the rest, of whom to be invok'd, A nation from one faithful man to spring: Him on this side Euphrates yet residing, Bred up in idol-worship; O that men (Canst thou believe?) should be so stupid grown, While yet the patriarch liv'd, who 'scap'd the Flood, As to forsake the living God, and fall To worship their own work in wood and stone For gods! yet him God the most High vouchsafes To call by vision from his father's house, His kindred and false gods, into a land Which he will show him, and from him will raise A mighty nation, and upon him shower His benediction so, that in his seed All nations shall be blest; he straight obeys, Not knowing to what land, yet firm believes: I see him, but thou canst not, with what faith He leaves his gods, his friends, and native soil Ur of Chaldaea, passing now the ford To Haran, after him a cumbrous train Of herds and flocks, and numerous servitude; Not wand'ring poor, but trusting all his wealth With God, who call'd him, in a land unknown. Canaan he now attains, I see his tents Pitch'd about Sechem, and the neighbouring plain Of Moreh; there by promise he receives Gift to his progeny of all that land; From Hamath Northward to the desert South (Things by their names I call, though yet unnam'd) From Hermon East to the great Western Sea, Mount Hermon, yonder sea, each place behold In prospect, as I point them; on the shore Mount Carmel; here the double-founted stream Jordan, true limit Eastward; but his sons Shall dwell to Senir, that long ridge of hills. This ponder, that all nations of the earth Shall in his seed be blessed; by that seed Is meant thy great deliverer, who shall bruise The Serpent's head; whereof to thee anon Plainlier shall be reveal'd. This patriarch blest, Whom faithful Abraham due time shall call, A son, and of his son a grandchild leaves, Like him in faith, in wisdom, and renown; The grandchild with twelve sons increas'd, departs From Canaan, to a land hereafter call'd Egypt, divided by the river Nile; See where it flows, disgorging at seven mouths Into the sea: to sojourn in that land He comes invited by a younger son In time of dearth, a son whose worthy deeds Raise him to be the second in that realm Of Pharaoh: there he dies, and leaves his race Growing into a nation, and now grown Suspected to a sequent king, who seeks To stop their overgrowth, as inmate guests Too numerous; whence of guests he makes them slaves Inhospitably, and kills their infant males: Till by two brethren (those two brethren call Moses and Aaron) sent from God to claim His people from enthralment, they return With glory and spoil back to their promis'd land. But first the lawless tyrant, who denies To know their God, or message to regard, Must be compell'd by signs and judgments dire; To blood unshed the rivers must be turn'd, Frogs, lice and flies must all his palace fill With loath'd intrusion, and fill all the land; His cattle must of rot and murrain die, Botches and blains must all his flesh emboss, And all his people; thunder mixed with hail, Hail mixed with fire must rend th' Egyptian sky And wheel on th' earth, devouring where it rolls; What it devours not, herb, or fruit, or grain, A darksome cloud of locusts swarming down Must eat, and on the ground leave nothing green: Darkness must overshadow all his bounds, Palpable darkness, and blot out three days; Last with one midnight stroke all the first-born Of Egypt must lie dead. Thus with ten wounds The river-dragon tam'd at length submits To let his sojourners depart, and oft Humbles his stubborn heart, but still as ice More hard'nd after thaw, till in his rage Pursuing whom he late dismiss'd, the sea Swallows him with his host, but them lets pass As on dry land between two crystal walls, Aw'd by the rod of Moses so to stand Divided, till his rescu'd gain their shore: Such wondrous power God to his saint will lend, Though present in his angel, who shall go Before them in a cloud, and pillar of fire, By day a cloud, by night a pillar of fire, To guide them in their journey, and remove Behind them, while th' obdurate king pursues: All night he will pursue, but his approach Darkness defends between till morning watch; Then through the fiery pillar and the cloud God looking forth will trouble all his host And craze their chariot wheels: when by command Moses once more his potent rod extends Over the sea; the sea his rod obeys; On their embattl'd ranks the waves return, And overwhelm their war: the race elect Safe towards Canaan from the shore advance Through the wild desert, not the readiest way, Lest ent'ring on the Canaanite alarm'd War terrify them inexpert, and fear Return them back to Egypt, choosing rather Inglorious life with servitude; for life To noble and ignoble is more sweet Untrain'd in arms, where rashness leads not on. This also shall they gain by their delay In the wide wilderness, there they shall found Their government, and their great senate choose Through the twelve tribes, to rule by laws ordain'd: God from the mount of Sinai, whose grey top Shall tremble, he descending, will himself In thunder lightning and loud trumpets' sound Ordain them laws; part such as appertain To civil justice, part religious rites Of sacrifice, informing them, by types And shadows, of that destin'd seed to bruise The Serpent, by what means he shall achieve Mankind's deliverance. But the voice of God To mortal ear is dreadful; they beseech That Moses might report to them his will, And terror cease; he grants what they besought Instructed that to God is no access Without Mediator, whose high office now Moses in figure bears, to introduce One greater, of whose day he shall foretell, And all the prophets in their age the times Of great Messiah shall sing. Thus laws and rites Establish'd, such delight hath God in men Obedient to his will, that he vouchsafes Among them to set up his tabernacle, The Holy One with mortal men to dwell: By his prescript a sanctuary is fram'd Of cedar, overlaid with gold, therein An ark, and in the ark his testimony, The records of his cov'nant, over these A mercy-seat of gold between the wings Of two bright Cherubim, before him burn Seven lamps as in a zodiac representing The Heav'nly fires; over the tent a cloud Shall rest by day, a fiery gleam by night, Save when they journey, and at length they come, Conducted by his angel to the land Promis'd to Abraham and his seed: the rest Were long to tell, how many battles fought, How many kings destroy'd, and kingdoms won, Or how the sun shall in mid Heav'n stand still A day entire, and night's due course adjourn, Man's voice commanding, sun in Gibeon stand, And thou moon in the vale of Aialon, Till Israel overcome; so call the third From Abraham, son of Isaac, and from him His whole descent, who thus shall Canaan win.
Here Adam interpos'd. O sent from Heav'n, Enlightner of my darkness, gracious things Thou hast reveal'd, those chiefly which concern Just Abraham and his seed: now first I find Mine eyes true op'ning, and my heart much eas'd, Erewhile perplexed with thoughts what would become Of me and all mankind; but now I see His day, in whom all nations shall be blest, Favour unmerited by me, who sought Forbidd'n knowledge by forbidd'n means. This yet I apprehend not, why to those Among whom God will deign to dwell on earth So many and so various laws are giv'n; So many laws argue so many sins Among them; how can God with such reside?
To whom thus Michael. Doubt not but that sin Will reign among them, as of thee begot; And therefore was law given them to evince Their natural pravity, by stirring up Sin against law to fight; that when they see Law can discover sin, but not remove, Save by those shadowy expiations weak, The blood of bulls and goats, they may conclude Some blood more precious must be paid for man, Just for unjust, that in such righteousness To them by faith imputed, they may find Justification towards God, and peace Of conscience, which the law by ceremonies Cannot appease, nor man the moral part Perform, and not performing cannot live. So law appears imperfect, and but giv'n With purpose to resign them in full time Up to a better cov'nant, disciplin'd From shadowy types to truth, from flesh to spirit, From imposition of strict laws, to free Acceptance of large grace, from servile fear To filial, works of law to works of faith. And therefore shall not Moses, though of God Highly belov'd, being but the minister Of law, his people into Canaan lead; But Joshua whom the Gentiles Jesus call, His name and office bearing, who shall quell The adversary Serpent, and bring back Through the world's wilderness long wander'd man Safe to eternal Paradise of rest. Meanwhile they in their earthly Canaan plac'd Long time shall dwell and prosper, but when sins National interrupt their public peace, Provoking God to raise them enemies: From whom as oft he saves them penitent By judges first, then under kings; of whom The second, both for piety renown'd And puissant deeds, a promise shall receive Irrevocable, that his regal throne For ever shall endure; the like shall sing All prophecy, that of the royal stock Of David (so I name this king) shall rise A son, the Woman's seed to thee foretold, Foretold to Abraham, as in whom shall trust All nations, and to kings foretold, of kings The last, for of his reign shall be no end. But first a long succession must ensue, And his next son for wealth and wisdom fam'd, The clouded ark of God till then in tents Wand'ring, shall in a glorious temple enshrine. Such follow him, as shall be register'd Part good, part bad, of bad the longer scroll, Whose foul idolatries, and other faults Heap'd to the popular sum, will so incense God, as to leave them, and expose their land, Their city, his temple, and his holy ark With all his sacred things, a scorn and prey To that proud city, whose high walls thou saw'st Left in confusion, Babylon thence call'd. There in captivity he lets them dwell The space of seventy years, then brings them back, Rememb'ring mercy, and his cov'nant sworn To David, stablish'd as the days of Heav'n. Return'd from Babylon by leave of kings Their lords, whom God dispos'd, the house of God They first re-edify, and for a while In mean estate live moderate, till grown In wealth and multitude, factious they grow; But first among the priests dissension springs, Men who attend the altar, and should most Endeavor peace: their strife pollution brings Upon the temple itself: at last they seize The sceptre, and regard not David's sons, Then lose it to a stranger, that the true Anointed king Messiah might be born Barr'd of his right; yet at his birth a star Unseen before in Heav'n proclaims him come, And guides the Eastern sages, who enquire His place, to offer incense, myrrh, and gold; His place of birth a solemn angel tells To simple shepherds, keeping watch by night; They gladly thither haste, and by a choir Of squadron'd angels hear his carol sung. A virgin is his mother, but his sire The Power of the most High; he shall ascend The throne hereditary, and bound his reign With earth's wide bounds, his glory with the Heav'ns.
He ceas'd, discerning Adam with such joy Surcharg'd, as had like grief been dew'd in tears, Without the vent of words, which these he breath'd.
O prophet of glad tidings, finisher Of utmost hope! now clear I understand What oft my steadiest thoughts have search'd in vain, Why our great expectation should be call'd The seed of woman: Virgin Mother, Hail, High in the love of Heav'n, yet from my loins Thou shalt proceed, and from thy womb the Son Of God most High; so God with man unites. Needs must the Serpent now his capital bruise Expect with mortal pain: say where and when Their fight, what stroke shall bruise the Victor's heel.
To whom thus Michael. Dream not of their fight, As of a duel, or the local wounds Of head or heel: not therefore joins the Son Manhood to Godhead, with more strength to foil Thy enemy; nor so is overcome Satan, whose fall from Heav'n, a deadlier bruise, Disabl'd not to give thee thy death's wound: Which he, who comes thy Saviour, shall recure, Not by destroying Satan, but his works In thee and in thy seed: nor can this be, But by fulfilling that which thou didst want, Obedience to the law of God, impos'd On penalty of death, and suffering death, The penalty to thy transgression due, And due to theirs which out of thine will grow: So only can high justice rest appaid. The law of God exact he shall fulfil Both by obedience and by love, though love Alone fulfil the law; thy punishment He shall endure by coming in the flesh To a reproachful life and cursed death, Proclaiming life to all who shall believe In his redemption, and that his obedience Imputed becomes theirs by faith, his merits To save them, not their own, though legal works. For this he shall live hated, be blasphem'd, Seiz'd on by force, judg'd, and to death condemn'd A shameful and accurst, nail'd to the cross By his own nation, slain for bringing life; But to the cross he nails thy enemies, The law that is against thee, and the sins Of all mankind, with him there crucifi'd, Never to hurt them more who rightly trust In this his satisfaction; so he dies, But soon revives, death over him no power Shall long usurp; ere the third dawning light Return, the stars of morn shall see him rise Out of his grave, fresh as the dawning light, Thy ransom paid, which man from death redeems, His death for man, as many as offer'd life Neglect not, and the benefit embrace By faith not void of works: this God-like act Annuls thy doom, the death thou shouldst have dy'd, In sin for ever lost from life; this act Shall bruise the head of Satan, crush his strength Defeating sin and death, his two main arms, And fix far deeper in his head their stings Than temporal death shall bruise the Victor's heel, Or theirs whom he redeems, a death like sleep, A gentle wafting to immortal life. Nor after resurrection shall he stay Longer on earth than certain times to appear To his disciples, men who in his life Still follow'd him; to them shall leave in charge To teach all nations what of him they learn'd And his salvation, them who shall believe Baptizing in the profluent stream, the sign Of washing them from guilt of sin to life Pure, and in mind prepar'd, if so befall, For death, like that which the Redeemer dy'd. All nations they shall teach; for from that day Not only to the sons of Abraham's loins Salvation shall be preach'd, but to the sons Of Abraham's faith wherever through the world; So in his seed all nations shall be blest. Then to the Heav'n of Heav'ns he shall ascend With victory, triumphing through the air Over his foes and thine; there shall surprise The Serpent, prince of air, and drag in chains Through all his realm, and there confounded leave; Then enter into glory, and resume His seat at God's right hand, exalted high Above all names in Heav'n; and thence shall come, When this world's dissolution shall be ripe, With glory and power to judge both quick and dead, To judge th' unfaithful dead, but to reward His faithful, and receive them into bliss, Whether in Heav'n or earth, for then the earth Shall all be Paradise, far happier place Than this of Eden, and far happier days.
So spake th' Archangel Michael, then paus'd, As at the world's great period; and our sire Replete with joy and wonder thus repli'd.
O goodness infinite, goodness immense! That all this good of evil shall produce, And evil turn to good; more wonderful Than that which by creation first brought forth Light out of darkness! full of doubt I stand, Whether I should repent me now of sin By me done and occasion'd, or rejoice Much more, that much more good thereof shall spring, To God more glory, more good will to men From God, and over wrath grace shall abound. But say, if our deliverer up to Heav'n Must reascend, what will betide the few His faithful, left among th' unfaithful herd, The enemies of truth; who then shall guide His people, who defend? will they not deal Worse with his followers than with him they dealt?
Be sure they will, said th' angel; but from Heav'n He to his own a Comforter will send, The promise of the Father, who shall dwell His Spirit within them, and the law of faith Working through love, upon their hearts shall write, To guide them in all truth, and also arm With spiritual armour, able to resist Satan's assaults, and quench his fiery darts, What man can do against them, not afraid, Though to the death, against such cruelties With inward consolations recompens'd, And oft supported so as shall amaze Their proudest persecutors: for the Spirit Pour'd first on his apostles, whom he sends To evangelize the nations, then on all Baptiz'd, shall them with wondrous gifts endue To speak all tongues, and do all miracles, As did their Lord before them. Thus they win Great numbers of each nation to receive With joy the tidings brought from Heav'n: at length Their ministry perform'd, and race well run, Their doctrine and their story written left, They die; but in their room, as they forewarn, Wolves shall succeed for teachers, grievous wolves, Who all the sacred mysteries of Heav'n To their own vile advantages shall turn Of lucre and ambition, and the truth With superstitions and traditions taint, Left only in those written records pure, Though not but by the Spirit understood. Then shall they seek to avail themselves of names, Places and titles, and with these to join Secular power, though feigning still to act By spiritual, to themselves appropriating The Spirit of God, promis'd alike and giv'n To all believers; and from that pretense, Spiritual laws by carnal power shall force On every conscience; laws which none shall find Left them enroll'd, or what the Spirit within Shall on the heart engrave. What will they then But force the Spirit of Grace itself, and bind His consort liberty; what, but unbuild His living temples, built by faith to stand, Their own faith not another's: for on earth Who against faith and conscience can be heard Infallible? yet many will presume: Whence heavy persecution shall arise On all who in the worship persevere Of spirit and truth; the rest, far greater part, Well deem in outward rites and specious forms Religion satisfi'd; truth shall retire Bestuck with sland'rous darts, and works of faith Rarely be found: so shall the world go on, To good malignant, to bad men benign, Under her own weight groaning till the day Appear of respiration to the just, And vengeance to the wicked, at return Of him so lately promis'd to thy aid The woman's seed, obscurely then foretold, Now amplier known thy Saviour and thy Lord, Last in the clouds from Heav'n to be reveal'd In glory of the Father, to dissolve Satan with his perverted world, then raise From the conflagrant mass, purg'd and refin'd, New heav'ns, new earth, ages of endless date Founded in righteousness and peace and love To bring forth fruits joy and eternal bliss.
He ended; and thus Adam last reply'd. How soon hath thy prediction, Seer blest, Measur'd this transient world, the race of time, Till time stand fixed: beyond is all abyss, Eternity, whose end no eye can reach. Greatly instructed I shall hence depart, Greatly in peace of thought, and have my fill Of knowledge, what this vessel can contain; Beyond which was my folly to aspire. Henceforth I learn, that to obey is best, And love with fear the only God, to walk As in his presence, ever to observe His providence, and on him sole depend, Merciful over all his works, with good Still overcoming evil, and by small Accomplishing great things, by things deem'd weak Subverting worldly strong, and worldly wise By simply meek; that suffering for truth's sake Is fortitude to highest victory, And to the faithful death the gate of life; Taught this by his example whom I now Acknowledge my Redeemer ever blest.
To whom thus also th' angel last repli'd: This having learnt, thou hast attain'd the sum Of wisdom; hope no higher, though all the stars Thou knewst by name, and all th' ethereal powers, All secrets of the deep, all nature's works, Or works of God in Heav'n, air, earth, or sea, And all the riches of this world enjoy'dst, And all the rule, one empire; only add Deeds to thy knowledge answerable, add faith, Add virtue, patience, temperance, add love, By name to come call'd charity, the soul Of all the rest: then wilt thou not be loath To leave this Paradise, but shalt possess A paradise within thee, happier far. Let us descend now therefore from this top Of speculation; for the hour precise Exacts our parting hence; and see the guards, By me encamp'd on yonder hill, expect Their motion, at whose front a flaming sword, In signal of remove, waves fiercely round; We may no longer stay: go, waken Eve; Her also I with gentle dreams have calm'd Portending good, and all her spirits compos'd To meek submission: thou at season fit Let her with thee partake what thou hast heard, Chiefly what may concern her faith to know, The great deliverance by her seed to come (For by the Woman's seed) on all mankind. That ye may live, which will be many days, Both in one faith unanimous though sad, With cause for evils past, yet much more cheer'd With meditation on the happy end.
He ended, and they both descend the hill; Descended, Adam to the bower where Eve Lay sleeping ran before, but found her wak'd; And thus with words not sad she him receiv'd.
Whence thou returnst, and whither wentst, I know; For God is also in sleep, and dreams advise, Which he hath sent propitious, some great good Presaging, since with sorrow and heart's distress Wearied I fell asleep: but now lead on; In me is no delay; with thee to go, Is to stay here; without thee here to stay, Is to go hence unwilling; thou to me Art all things under Heav'n, all places thou, Who for my wilful crime art banished hence. This further consolation yet secure I carry hence; though all by me is lost, Such favour I unworthy am vouchsaf'd, By me the promis'd seed shall all restore.
So spake our mother Eve, and Adam heard Well pleas'd, but answer'd not; for now too nigh Th' Archangel stood, and from the other hill To their sixth station, all in bright array The Cherubim descended; on the ground Gliding meteorous, as ev'ning mist Ris'n from a river o'er the marish glides, And gathers ground fast at the labourer's heel Homeward returning. High in front advanc'd, The brandish'd sword of God before them blaz'd Fierce as a comet; which with torrid heat, And vapour as the Libyan air adust, Began to parch that temperate clime; whereat, In either hand the hast'ning angel caught Our ling'ring parents, and to th' Eastern gate Led them direct, and down the cliff as fast To the subjected plain; then disappear'd. They looking back, all th' Eastern side beheld Of Paradise, so late their happy seat, Wav'd over by that flaming brand, the gate With dreadful faces throng'd and fiery arms: Some natural tears they drop'd, but wip'd them soon; The world was all before them, where to choose Their place of rest, and Providence their guide: They hand in hand with wand'ring steps and slow, Through Eden took their solitary way.