Book IV
Paradise Lost
BOOK III.
THE ARGUMENT.
God sitting on his throne sees Satan flying towards this world, then newly created; shows him to the Son who sat at his right hand; foretells the success of Satan in perverting mankind; clears his own justice and wisdom from all imputation, having created Man free and able enough to have withstood his Tempter; yet declares his purpose of grace towards him, in regard he fell not of his own malice, as did Satan, but by him seduc'd. The Son of God renders praises to his Father for the manifestation of his gracious purpose towards Man; but God again declares, that Grace cannot be extended towards Man without the satisfaction of divine Justice; Man hath offended the majesty of God by aspiring to Godhead, and therefore with all his progeny devoted to death must die, unless some one can be found sufficient to answer for his offence, and undergo his punishment. The Son of God freely offers himself a ransom for Man: the Father accepts him, ordains his incarnation, pronounces his exaltation above all names in Heaven and Earth; commands all the angels to adore him; they obey, and hymning to their harps in full choir, celebrate the Father and the Son. Mean while Satan alights upon the bare convex of this world's outermost orb; where wandering he first finds a place since call'd The limbo of vanity; what persons and things fly up thither; thence comes to the gate of Heaven, describ'd ascending by stairs, and the waters above the firmament that flow about it: His passage thence to the orb of the Sun; he finds there Uriel the Regent of that orb, but first changes himself into the shape of a meaner angel; and pretending a zealous desire to behold the new creation and man whom God had plac'd here, inquires of him the place of his habitation, and is directed; alights first on Mount Niphates.
Hail holy Light, offspring of Heav'n first-born, Or of th' Eternal coeternal beam May I express thee unblam'd? since God is light, And never but in unapproached light Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then in thee, Bright effluence of bright essence increate. Or hear'st thou rather pure ethereal stream, Whose fountain who shall tell? before the Sun, Before the heavens thou wert, and at the voice Of God, as with a mantle didst invest The rising world of waters dark and deep, Won from the void and formless infinite. Thee I revisit now with bolder wing, Escap'd the Stygian pool, though long detain'd In that obscure sojourn, while in my flight Through utter and through middle darkness borne With other notes than to th' Orphean lyre I sung of Chaos and Eternal Night, Taught by the heav'nly Muse to venture down The dark descent, and up to reascend, Though hard and rare: thee I revisit safe, And feel thy sovereign vital lamp; but thou Revisit'st not these eyes, that roll in vain To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn; So thick a drop serene hath quench'd their orbs, Or dim suffusion veil'd. Yet not the more Cease I to wander where the Muses haunt Clear spring, or shady grove, or sunny hill, Smit with the love of sacred song; but chief Thee Sion and the flow'ry brooks beneath That wash thy hallow'd feet, and warbling flow, Nightly I visit: nor sometimes forget Those other two equal'd with me in fate, So were I equal'd with them in renown, Blind Thamyris and blind Maeonides, And Tiresias and Phineus prophets old. Then feed on thoughts, that voluntary move Harmonious numbers; as the wakeful bird Sings darkling, and in shadiest covert hid Tunes her nocturnal note. Thus with the year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of ev'n or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or Summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine; But cloud instead, and ever-during dark Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair Presented with a universal blank Of Nature's works to me expung'd and ras'd, And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out. So much the rather thou celestial light Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers Irradiate, there plant eyes, all mist from thence Purge and disperse, that I may see and tell Of things invisible to mortal sight.
Now had the Almighty Father from above, From the pure Empyrean where he sits High thron'd above all height, bent down his eye, His own works and their works at once to view: About him all the sanctities of Heaven Stood thick as stars, and from his sight receiv'd Beatitude past utterance; on his right The radiant image of his glory sat, His only Son; on Earth he first beheld Our two first Parents, yet the only two Of mankind, in the happy garden plac'd, Reaping immortal fruits of joy and love, Uninterrupted joy, unrival'd love In blissful solitude; he then survey'd Hell and the gulf between, and Satan there Coasting the wall of Heav'n on this side Night In the dun air sublime, and ready now To stoop with wearied wings, and willing feet On the bare outside of this world, that seem'd Firm land embosom'd without firmament, Uncertain which, in ocean or in air. Him God beholding from his prospect high, Wherein past, present, future he beholds, Thus to his only Son foreseeing spake.
Only begotten Son, seest thou what rage Transports our adversary, whom no bounds Prescrib'd, no bars of Hell, nor all the chains Heap'd on him there, nor yet the main Abyss Wide interrupt can hold; so bent he seems On desperate revenge, that shall redound Upon his own rebellious head. And now Through all restraint broke loose he wings his way Not far off Heav'n, in the precincts of light, Directly towards the new created world, And man there plac'd, with purpose to assay If him by force he can destroy, or worse, By some false guile pervert; and shall pervert For man will hearken to his glozing lies, And easily transgress the sole command, Sole pledge of his obedience: so will fall, He and his faithless progeny: whose fault? Whose but his own? ingrate, he had of me All he could have; I made him just and right, Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall. Such I created all th' ethereal Powers And Spirits, both them who stood and them who fail'd; Freely they stood who stood, and fell who fell. Not free, what proof could they have giv'n sincere Of true allegiance, constant faith or love, Where only what they needs must do, appear'd, Not what they would? what praise could they receive? What pleasure I from such obedience paid, When will and reason (reason also is choice) Useless and vain, of freedom both despoil'd, Made passive both, had serv'd necessity, Not me. They therefore as to right belong'd, So were created, nor can justly accuse Their Maker, or their making, or their fate, As if predestination over-rul'd Their will, dispos'd by absolute decree Or high foreknowledge; they themselves decreed Their own revolt, not I: if I foreknew, Foreknowledge had no influence on their fault, Which had no less prov'd certain unforeknown. So without least impulse or shadow of fate, Or aught by me immutably foreseen, They trespass, authors to themselves in all Both what they judge and what they choose; for so I form'd them free, and free they must remain, Till they enthrall themselves: I else must change Their nature, and revoke the high decree Unchangeable, Eternal, which ordain'd Their freedom, they themselves ordain'd their fall; The first sort by their own suggestion fell, Self-tempted, self-deprav'd: man falls deceiv'd By the other first: man therefore shall find grace, The other none: in mercy and justice both, Through Heav'n and Earth, so shall my glory excel, But mercy first and last shall brightest shine.
Thus while God spake, ambrosial fragrance fill'd All Heav'n, and in the blessed spirits elect Sense of new joy ineffable diffus'd: Beyond compare the Son of God was seen Most glorious, in him all his Father shone Substantially express'd, and in his face Divine compassion visibly appear'd, Love without end, and without measure grace, Which uttering thus he to his Father spake.
O Father, gracious was that word which clos'd Thy sovereign sentence, that man should find grace; For which both Heav'n and Earth shall high extol Thy praises, with th' innumerable sound Of hymns and sacred songs, wherewith thy throne Encompass'd shall resound thee ever blest. For should man finally be lost, should man Thy creature late so lov'd, thy youngest son Fall circumvented thus by fraud, though join'd With his own folly? that be from thee far, That far be from thee, Father, who art Judge Of all things made, and judgest only right. Or shall the adversary thus obtain His end, and frustrate thine, shall he fulfil His malice, and thy goodness bring to naught, Or proud return though to his heavier doom, Yet with revenge accomplish'd and to Hell Draw after him the whole race of mankind, By him corrupted? or wilt thou thyself Abolish thy creation, and unmake, For him, what for thy glory thou hast made? So should thy goodness and thy greatness both Be question'd and blasphem'd without defence.
To whom the great Creator thus reply'd. O Son, in whom my soul hath chief delight, Son of my bosom, Son who art alone My word, my wisdom, and effectual might, All hast thou spoken as my thoughts are, all As my eternal purpose hath decreed: Man shall not quite be lost, but sav'd who will, Yet not of will in him, but grace in me Freely vouchsaf'd; once more I will renew His lapsed powers, though forfeit and enthrall'd By sin to foul exorbitant desires; Upheld by me, yet once more he shall stand On even ground against his mortal foe, By me upheld, that he may know how frail His fall'n condition is, and to me owe All his deliv'rance, and to none but me. Some I have chosen of peculiar grace Elect above the rest; so is my will: The rest shall hear me call, and oft be warn'd Their sinful date, and to appease betimes Th' incensed Deity, while offer'd grace Invites; for I will clear their senses dark, What may suffice, and soften stony hearts To pray, repent, and bring obedience due. To prayer, repentance, and obedience due, Though but endeavour'd with sincere intent, Mine ear shall not be slow, mine eye not shut. And I will place within them as a guide My umpire Conscience, whom if they will hear, Light after light well us'd they shall attain, And to the end persisting, safe arrive. This my long sufferance and my day of grace They who neglect and scorn, shall never taste; But hard be harden'd, blind be blinded more, That they may stumble on, and deeper fall; And none but such from mercy I exclude. But yet all is not done; man disobeying, Disloyal breaks his fealty, and sins Against the high supremacy of Heav'n, Affecting Godhead, and so losing all, To expiate his treason hath naught left, But to destruction sacred and devote, He with his whole posterity must die, Die he or Justice must; unless for him Some other able, and as willing, pay The rigid satisfaction, death for death. Say, heav'nly powers, where shall we find such love, Which of ye will be mortal to redeem Man's mortal crime, and just th' unjust to save, Dwells in all Heaven charity so dear?
He ask'd, but all the heav'nly choir stood mute, And silence was in Heav'n: on man's behalf Patron or intercessor none appear'd, Much less that durst upon his own head draw The deadly forfeiture, and ransom set. And now without redemption all mankind Must have been lost, adjudg'd to Death and Hell By doom severe, had not the Son of God, In whom the fulness dwells of love divine, His dearest mediation thus renew'd.
Father, thy word is past, man shall find grace; And shall grace not find means, that finds her way, The speediest of thy winged messengers, To visit all thy creatures, and to all Comes unprevented, unimplor'd, unsought, Happy for man, so coming; he her aid Can never seek, once dead in sins and lost; Atonement for himself or offering meet, Indebted and undone, hath none to bring: Behold me then, me for him, life for life I offer, on me let thine anger fall; Account me man; I for his sake will leave Thy bosom, and this glory next to thee Freely put off, and for him lastly die Well pleas'd, on me let Death wreck all his rage; Under his gloomy power I shall not long Lie vanquish'd; thou hast giv'n me to possess Life in myself for ever, by thee I live, Though now to Death I yield, and am his due All that of me can die, yet that debt paid, Thou wilt not leave me in the loathsome grave His prey, nor suffer my unspotted soul For ever with corruption there to dwell; But I shall rise victorious, and subdue My vanquisher, spoil'd of his vaunted spoil; Death his death's wound shall then receive, and stoop Inglorious, of his mortal sting disarm'd. I through the ample air in triumph high Shall lead Hell captive maugre Hell, and show The powers of darkness bound. Thou at the sight Pleas'd, out of Heaven shalt look down and smile, While by thee rais'd I ruin all my foes, Death last, and with his carcass glut the grave: Then with the multitude of my redeem'd Shall enter Heaven long absent, and return, Father, to see thy face, wherein no cloud Of anger shall remain, but peace assur'd, And reconcilement; wrath shall be no more Thenceforth, but in thy presence joy entire.
His words here ended, but his meek aspect Silent yet spake, and breath'd immortal love To mortal men, above which only shone Filial obedience: as a sacrifice Glad to be offer'd, he attends the will Of his great Father. Admiration seiz'd All Heav'n, what this might mean, and whither tend Wond'ring; but soon th' Almighty thus reply'd:
O thou in Heav'n and Earth the only peace Found out for mankind under wrath, O thou My sole complacence! well thou know'st how dear, To me are all my works, nor man the least Though last created, that for him I spare Thee from my bosom and right hand, to save, By losing thee a while, the whole race lost. Thou therefore whom thou only canst redeem, Their nature also to thy nature join; And be thyself man among men on Earth, Made flesh, when time shall be, of Virgin seed By wondrous birth: be thou in Adam's room The head of all mankind, though Adam's Son. As in him perish all men, so in thee As from a second root shall be restor'd, As many as are restor'd, without thee none. His crime makes guilty all his sons, thy merit Imputed shall absolve them who renounce Their own both righteous and unrighteous deeds, And live in thee transplanted, and from thee Receive new life. So man, as is most just, Shall satisfy for man, be judg'd and die, And dying rise, and rising with him raise His brethren, ransom'd with his own dear life. So heav'nly love shall outdo hellish hate Giving to death, and dying to redeem, So dearly to redeem what hellish hate So easily destroy'd, and still destroys In those who, when they may, accept not grace. Nor shalt thou by descending to assume Man's nature, lessen or degrade thine own. Because thou hast, though thron'd in highest bliss Equal to God, and equally enjoying God-like fruition, quitted all to save A world from utter loss, and hast been found By merit more than birthright Son of God, Found worthiest to be so by being good, Far more than great or high; because in thee Love hath abounded more than glory abounds, Therefore thy humiliation shall exalt With thee thy manhood also to this throne. Here shalt thou sit incarnate, here shalt reign Both God and man, Son both of God and man, Anointed universal King, all power I give thee, reign for ever, and assume Thy merits; under thee as head supreme Thrones, princedoms, powers, dominions I reduce: All knees to thee shall bow, of them that bide In Heaven, or Earth, or under Earth in Hell; When thou attended gloriously from Heav'n Shalt in the sky appear, and from thee send The summoning archangels to proclaim Thy dread tribunal: forthwith from all winds The living, and forthwith the cited dead Of all past ages to the general Doom Shall hasten, such a peal shall rouse their sleep. Then all thy saints assembl'd, thou shalt judge Bad men and angels, they arraign'd shall sink Beneath thy sentence; Hell her numbers full, Thenceforth shall be for ever shut. Mean while The world shall burn, and from her ashes spring New Heav'n and Earth, wherein the just shall dwell, And after all their tribulations long See golden days, fruitful of golden deeds, With joy and love triumphing, and fair Truth. Then thou thy regal sceptre shalt lay by, For regal sceptre then no more shall need, God shall be All in All. But all ye gods, Adore him, who to compass all this dies, Adore the Son, and honour him as me.
No sooner had th' Almighty ceas'd, but all The multitude of angels with a shout Loud as from numbers without number, sweet As from blest voices, uttering joy, Heav'n rung With jubilee, and loud Hosannas fill'd Th' eternal regions: lowly reverent Towards either throne they bow, and to the ground With solemn adoration down they cast Their crowns inwove with Amarant and gold, Immortal Amarant, a flower which once In Paradise, fast by the Tree of Life Began to bloom, but soon for man's offence To Heav'n remov'd where first it grew, there grows, And flowers aloft shading the fount of life, And where the river of bliss through midst of Heav'n Rolls o'er Elysian flowers her amber stream; With these that never fade the spirits elect Bind their resplendent locks inwreath'd with beams, Now in loose garlands thick thrown off, the bright Pavement that like a sea of jasper shone Impurple'd with celestial roses smil'd. Then crown'd again their golden harps they took, Harps ever tun'd, that glittering by their side Like quivers hung, and with preamble sweet Of charming symphony they introduce Their sacred song, and waken raptures high; No voice exempt, no voice but well could join Melodious part, such concord is in Heav'n.
Thee Father first they sung Omnipotent, Immutable, Immortal, Infinite, Eternal King; thee Author of all being, Fountain of Light, thyself invisible Amidst the glorious brightness where thou sit'st Thron'd inaccessible, but when thou shad'st The full blaze of thy beams, and through a cloud Drawn round about thee like a radiant Shrine, Dark with excessive bright thy skirts appear, Yet dazzle Heav'n, that brightest Seraphim Approach not, but with both wings veil their eyes, Thee next they sang of all creation first, Begotten Son, Divine Similitude, In whose conspicuous count'nance, without cloud Made visible, th' Almighty Father shines, Whom else no creature can behold; on thee Impress'd the effulgence of his glory abides, Transfus'd on thee his ample Spirit rests. He Heav'n of Heavens and all the powers therein By thee created, and by thee threw down Th' aspiring dominations: thou that day Thy Father's dreadful Thunder didst not spare, Nor stop thy flaming Chariot wheels, that shook Heav'n's everlasting frame, while o'er the necks Thou drov'st of warring angels disarray'd. Back from pursuit thy powers with loud acclaim Thee only extoll'd, Son of thy Father's might, To execute fierce vengeance on his foes, Not so on Man; him, through their malice fall'n, Father of mercy and grace, thou didst not doom So strictly, but much more to pity incline: No sooner did thy dear and only Son Perceive thee purpos'd not to doom frail man So strictly, but much more to pity inclin'd, He to appease thy wrath, and end the strife Of mercy and justice in thy face discern'd, Regardless of the bliss wherein he sat Second to thee, offer'd himself to die For man's offence. O unexample'd love, Love no where to be found less than divine! Hail Son of God, Saviour of men, thy Name Shall be the copious matter of my song Henceforth, and never shall my harp thy praise Forget, nor from thy Father's praise disjoin.
Thus they in Heav'n, above the starry sphere, Their happy hours in joy and hymning spent. Mean while upon the firm opacous globe Of this round world, whose first convex divides The luminous inferior orbs, enclos'd From Chaos and th' inroad of darkness old, Satan alighted walks: a globe far off It seem'd, now seems a boundless continent Dark, waste, and wild, under the frown of Night Starless expos'd, and ever-threatening storms Of Chaos blust'ring round, inclement sky; Save on that side which from the wall of Heav'n Though distant far some small reflection gains Of glimmering air less vexed with tempest loud: Here walk'd the Fiend at large in spacious field. As when a vulture on Imaus bred, Whose snowy ridge the roving Tartar bounds, Dislodging from a region scarce of prey To gorge the flesh of lambs or yeanling kids On hills where flocks are fed, flies toward the springs Of Ganges or Hydaspes, Indian streams; But in his way lights on the barren plains Of Sericana, where Chineses drive With sails and wind their cany wagons light: So on this windy sea of land, the Fiend Walk'd up and down alone bent on his prey, Alone, for other creature in this place Living or lifeless to be found was none, None yet, but store hereafter from the earth Up hither like aerial vapours flew Of all things transitory and vain, when Sin With vanity had fill'd the works of men: Both all things vain, and all who in vain things Built their fond hopes of glory or lasting fame, Or happiness in this or th' other life; All who have their reward on Earth, the fruits Of painful superstition and blind zeal, Naught seeking but the praise of men, here find Fit retribution, empty as their deeds; All th' unaccomplish'd works of Nature's hand, Abortive, monstrous, or unkindly mix'd, Dissolv'd on Earth, fleet hither, and in vain, Till final dissolution, wander here, Not in the neighbouring Moon, as some have dream'd; Those argent fields more likely habitants, Translated saints, or middle spirits hold Betwixt th' angelical and human kind: Hither of ill-join'd sons and daughters born First from the ancient world those giants came With many a vain exploit, though then renown'd: The builders next of Babel on the Plain Of Sennaar, and still with vain design New Babels, had they wherewithal, would build: Others came single; he who to be deem'd A God, leap'd fondly into Aetna's flames, Empedocles, and he who to enjoy Pluto's Elysium, leap'd into the Sea, Cleombrotus, and many more too long, Embryos and idiots, eremites and friars White, Black and Grey, with all their trumpery. Here pilgrims roam, that stray'd so far to seek In Golgotha him dead, who lives in Heav'n; And they who to be sure of Paradise Dying put on the weeds of Dominic, Or in Franciscan think to pass disguis'd; They pass the Planets seven, and pass the fixed, And that crystalline sphere whose balance weighs The trepidation talk'd, and that first mov'd; And now Saint Peter at Heav'n's Wicket seems To wait them with his keys, and now at foot Of Heav'n's ascent they lift their feet, when lo A violent cross wind from either coast Blows them transverse ten thousand leagues awry Into the devious air; then might ye see Cowls, hoods and habits with their wearers tossed And flutter'd rags, then relics, beads, Indulgences, dispenses, pardons, bulls, The sport of winds: all these upwhirl'd aloft Fly o'er the backside of the world far off Into a Limbo large and broad, since call'd The Paradise of Fools, to few unknown Long after, now unpeopled, and untrod; All this dark globe the Fiend found as he pass'd, And long he wander'd, till at last a gleam Of dawning light turn'd thither-ward in haste His travell'd steps; far distant he descries Ascending by degrees magnificent Up to the wall of Heaven a structure high, At top whereof, but far more rich appear'd The work as of a kingly palace gate With frontispiece of diamond and gold Embellish'd, thick with sparkling orient gems The portal shone, inimitable on Earth By model, or by shading pencil drawn. The stairs were such as whereon Jacob saw Angels ascending and descending, bands Of Guardians bright, when he from Esau fled To Padan-Aram in the field of Luz, Dreaming by night under the open sky, And waking cri'd, This is the Gate of Heav'n Each stair mysteriously was meant, nor stood There always, but drawn up to Heav'n sometimes Viewless, and underneath a bright sea flow'd Of jasper, or of liquid pearl, whereon Who after came from Earth, sailing arriv'd, Wafted by angels, or flew o'er the lake Rapt in a chariot drawn by fiery steeds. The stairs were then let down, whether to dare The Fiend by easy ascent, or aggravate His sad exclusion from the doors of Direct against which open'd from beneath, Just o'er the blissful seat of Paradise, A passage down to th' Earth, a passage wide, Wider by far than that of after-times Over Mount Sion, and, though that were large, Over the Promis'd Land to God so dear, By which, to visit oft those happy tribes, On high behests his angels to and fro Pass'd frequent, and his eye with choice regard From Paneas the fount of Jordan's flood To Beersheba, where the Holy Land Borders on Egypt and the Arabian shore; So wide the opening seem'd, where bounds were set To darkness, such as bound the ocean wave. Satan from hence now on the lower stair That scal'd by steps of gold to Heav'n's Gate Looks down with wonder at the sudden view Of all this world at once. As when a Scout Through dark and desert ways with peril gone All night; at last by break of cheerful dawn Obtains the brow of some high-climbing hill, Which to his eye discovers unaware The goodly prospect of some foreign land First-seen, or some renown'd metropolis With glistering spires and pinnacles adorn'd, Which now the rising Sun gilds with his beams, Such wonder seiz'd, though after Heaven seen, The Spirit malign, but much more envy seiz'd At sight of all this world beheld so fair. Round he surveys, and well might, where he stood So high above the circling canopy Of Night's extended shade; from Eastern point Of Libra to the fleecy star that bears Andromeda far off Atlantic seas Beyond th' horizon; then from pole to pole He views in breadth, and without longer pause Down right into the world's first region throws His flight precipitant, and winds with ease Through the pure marble air his oblique way Amongst innumerable stars, that shone Stars distant, but nigh hand seem'd other worlds, Or other worlds they seem'd, or happy isles, Like those Hesperian gardens fam'd of old, Fortunate fields, and groves and flowery vales, Thrice happy isles, but who dwelt happy there He stay'd not to inquire: above them all The golden Sun in splendour likest Heaven Allur'd his eye: thither his course he bends Through the calm firmament; but up or down By centre, or eccentric, hard to tell, Or longitude, where the great luminary Aloof the vulgar constellations thick, That from his lordly eye keep distance due, Dispenses light from far; they as they move Their starry dance in numbers that compute Days, months, and years, towards his all-cheering lamp Turn swift their various motions, or are turn'd By his magnetic beam, that gently warms The universe, and to each inward part With gentle penetration, though unseen, Shoots invisible virtue even to the deep: So wondrously was set his station bright. There lands the Fiend, a spot like which perhaps Astronomer in the Sun's lucent orb Through his glaz'd optic tube yet never saw. The place he found beyond expression bright, Compar'd with aught on Earth, medal or stone; Not all parts like, but all alike inform'd With radiant light, as glowing iron with fire; If metal, part seem'd gold, part silver clear; If stone, carbuncle most or chrysolite, Ruby or topaz, to the twelve that shone In Aaron's breastplate, and a stone besides Imagin'd rather oft than elsewhere seen, That stone, or like to that which here below Philosophers in vain so long have sought, In vain, though by their powerful art they bind Volatile Hermes, and call up unbound In various shape old Proteus from the Sea, Drain'd through a limbec to his native form. What wonder then if fields and regions here Breathe forth elixir pure, and rivers run Potable gold, when with one virtuous touch Th' arch-chemic Sun so far from us remote Produces with terrestrial humour mix'd Here in the dark so many precious things Of colour glorious and effect so rare? Here matter new to gaze the Devil met Undazz'd, far and wide his eye commands, For sight no obstacle found here, nor shade, But all sunshine, as when his beams at noon Culminate from th' Equator, as they now Shot upward still direct, whence no way round Shadow from body opaque can fall, and the air, Nowhere so clear, sharpen'd his visual ray To objects distant far, whereby he soon Saw within ken a glorious angel stand, The same whom John saw also in the Sun: His back was turn'd, but not his brightness hid; Of beaming sunny rays, a golden tiar Circl'd his head, nor less his locks behind Illustrious on his shoulders fledg'd with wings Lay waving round; on some great charge employ'd He seem'd, or fixed in cogitation deep. Glad was the spirit impure as now in hope To find who might direct his wand'ring flight To Paradise the happy seat of man, His journey's end and our beginning woe. But first he casts to change his proper shape, Which else might work him danger or delay: And now a stripling cherub he appears, Not of the prime, yet such as in his face Youth smil'd celestial, and to every limb Suitable grace diffus'd, so well he feign'd, Under a coronet his flowing hair In curls on either cheek play'd, wings he wore Of many a colour'd plume sprinkled with gold, His habit fit for speed succinct, and held Before his decent steps a silver wand. He drew not nigh unheard, the angel bright, Ere he drew nigh, his radiant visage turn'd, Admonish'd by his ear, and straight was known Th' archangel Uriel, one of the sev'n Who in God's presence, nearest to his throne Stand ready at command, and are his eyes That run through all the heavens, or down to th' Earth Bear his swift errands over moist and dry, O'er Sea and Land: him Satan thus accosts;
Uriel, for thou of those sev'n spirits that stand In sight of God's high throne, gloriously bright, The first art wont his great authentic will Interpreter through highest Heav'n to bring, Where all his sons thy embassy attend; And here art likeliest by supreme decree Like honour to obtain, and as his eye To visit oft this new creation round; Unspeakable desire to see, and know All these his wondrous works, but chiefly man, His chief delight and favour, him for whom All these his works so wondrous he ordain'd, Hath brought me from the choirs of cherubim Alone thus wand'ring. Brightest Seraph tell In which of all these shining orbs hath man His fixed seat, or fixed seat hath none, But all these shining orbs his choice to dwell; That I may find him, and with secret gaze, Or open admiration him behold On whom the great Creator hath bestow'd Worlds, and on whom hath all these graces pour'd. That both in him and all things, as is meet, The Universal Maker we may praise; Who justly hath driv'n out his rebel foes To deepest Hell, and to repair that loss Created this new happy race of men To serve him better: wise are all his ways.
So spake the false dissembler unperceiv'd; For neither man nor angel can discern Hypocrisy, the only evil that walks Invisible, except to God alone, By his permissive will, through Heav'n and Earth: And oft though wisdom wake, suspicion sleeps At wisdom's gate, and to simplicity Resigns her charge, while goodness thinks no ill Where no ill seems: which now for once beguil'd Uriel though Regent of the Sun, and held The sharpest sighted spirit of all in Heav'n; Who to the fraudulent impostor foul In his uprightness answer thus return'd. Fair angel, thy desire which tends to know The works of God, thereby to glorify The great Work-Master, leads to no excess That reaches blame, but rather merits praise The more it seems excess, that led thee hither From thy empyreal mansion thus alone, To witness with thine eyes what some perhaps Contented with report hear only in heav'n: For wonderful indeed are all his works, Pleasant to know, and worthiest to be all Had in remembrance always with delight; But what created mind can comprehend Their number, or the wisdom infinite That brought them forth, but hid their causes deep. I saw when at his Word the formless mass, This world's material mould, came to a heap: Confusion heard his voice, and wild uproar Stood rul'd, stood vast infinitude confin'd; Till at his second bidding darkness fled, Light shone, and order from disorder sprung: Swift to their several quarters hasted then The cumbrous elements, earth, flood, air, fire, And this ethereal quintessence of Heav'n Flew upward, spirited with various forms, That roll'd orbicular, and turn'd to stars Numberless, as thou seest, and how they move; Each had his place appointed, each his course, The rest in circuit walls this universe. Look downward on that globe whose hither side With light from hence, though but reflected, shines; That place is Earth the seat of man, that light His day, which else as th' other Hemisphere Night would invade, but there the neighbouring Moon (So call that opposite fair star) her aid Timely interposes, and her monthly round Still ending, still renewing, through mid Heav'n; With borrow'd light her countenance triform Hence fills and empties to enlighten th' Earth, And in her pale dominion checks the night. That spot to which I point is Paradise, Adam's abode, those lofty shades his bower. Thy way thou canst not miss, me mine requires.
Thus said, he turn'd, and Satan bowing low, As to superior spirits is wont in Heaven, Where honour due and reverence none neglects, Took leave, and toward the coast of Earth beneath, Down from th' ecliptic, sped with hop'd success, Throws his steep flight in many an airy wheel, Nor stay'd, till on Niphates top he lights.
BOOK IV.
THE ARGUMENT.
Satan now in prospect of Eden, and nigh the place where he must now attempt the bold enterprise which he undertook alone against God and man, falls into many doubts with himself, and many passions, fear, envy, and despair; but at length confirms himself in evil, journeys on to Paradise, whose outward prospect and situation is described, overleaps the bounds, sits in the shape of a cormorant on the tree of life, as highest in the garden to look about him. The garden describ'd; Satan's first sight of Adam and Eve; his wonder at their excellent form and happy state, but with resolution to work their fall; overhears their discourse, thence gathers that the tree of knowledge was forbidden them to eat of, under penalty of death; and thereon intends to found his temptation, by seducing them to transgress: then leaves them a while, to know further of their state by some other means. Meanwhile Uriel descending on a sun-beam warns Gabriel, who had in charge the gate of Paradise, that some evil spirit had escap'd the deep, and passed at noon by his sphere in the shape of a good angel down to Paradise, discovered after by his furious gestures in the mount. Gabriel promises to find him ere morning. Night coming on, Adam and Eve discourse of going to their rest: their bower describ'd; their evening worship. Gabriel drawing forth his bands of night-watch to walk the round of Paradise, appoints two strong angels to Adam's bower, lest the evil spirit should be there doing some harm to Adam or Eve sleeping; there they find him at the ear of Eve, tempting her in a dream, and bring him, though unwilling, to Gabriel; by whom question'd, he scornfully answers, prepares resistance, but hinder'd by a sign from Heaven, flies out of Paradise.
O for that warning voice, which he who saw Th' Apocalypse, heard cry in Heaven aloud, Then when the dragon, put to second rout, Came furious down to be reveng'd on men, Woe to the inhabitants on earth! that now, While time was, our first-parents had been warn'd The coming of their secret foe, and 'scap'd Haply so 'scap'd his mortal snare; for now Satan, now first inflam'd with rage, came down, The tempter ere th' accuser of mankind, To wreck on innocent frail man his loss Of that first battle, and his flight to Hell: Yet not rejoicing in his speed, though bold, Far off and fearless, nor with cause to boast, Begins his dire attempt, which nigh the birth Now rolling, boils in his tumultuous breast, And like a devilish engine back recoils Upon himself; horror and doubt distract His troubl'd thoughts, and from the bottom stir The Hell within him, for within him Hell He brings, and round about him, nor from Hell One step no more than from himself can fly By change of place: now conscience wakes despair That slumber'd, wakes the bitter memory Of what he was, what is, and what must be Worse; of worse deeds worse sufferings must ensue. Sometimes towards Eden which now in his view Lay pleasant, his griev'd look he fixes sad, Sometimes towards Heav'n and the full-blazing sun, Which now sat high in his meridian tower: Then much revolving, thus in sighs began.
O thou that with surpassing glory crown'd, Look'st from thy sole dominion like the god Of this new world; at whose sight all the stars Hide their diminish'd heads; to thee I call, But with no friendly voice, and add thy name O Sun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams That bring to my remembrance from what state I fell, how glorious once above thy sphere; Till pride and worse ambition threw me down Warring in Heav'n against Heav'n's matchless King: Ah wherefore! he deserv'd no such return From me, whom he created what I was In that bright eminence, and with his good Upbraided none; nor was his service hard. What could be less than to afford him praise, The easiest recompense, and pay him thanks, How due! yet all his good prov'd ill in me, And wrought but malice; lifted up so high I sdeign'd subjection, and thought one step higher Would set me highest, and in a moment quit The debt immense of endless gratitude, So burdensome still paying, still to owe; Forgetful what from him I still receiv'd, And understood not that a grateful mind By owing owes not, but still pays, at once Indebted and discharg'd; what burden then? O had his powerful destiny ordain'd Me some inferior angel, I had stood Then happy; no unbounded hope had rais'd Ambition. Yet why not? some other power As great might have aspir'd, and me though mean Drawn to his part? but other powers as great Fell not, but stand unshak'n, from within Or from without, to all temptations arm'd. Hadst thou the same free will and power to stand? thou hadst: whom hast thou then or what to accuse, But Heav'n's free love dealt equally to all? Be then his love accurst, since love or hate, To me alike, it deals eternal woe. Nay curs'd be thou; since against his thy will Chose freely what it now so justly rues. Me miserable! which way shall I fly Infinite wrath, and infinite despair? Which way I fly is Hell; myself am Hell; And in the lowest deep a lower deep Still threat'ning to devour me opens wide, To which the Hell I suffer seems a Heav'n. O then at last relent: is there no place Left for repentance, none for pardon left? None left but by submission; and that word Disdain forbids me, and my dread of shame Among the spirits beneath, whom I seduc'd With other promises and other vaunts Than to submit, boasting I could subdue Th' Omnipotent. Ay me, they little know How dearly I abide that boast so vain, Under what torments inwardly I groan; While they adore me on the throne of Hell, With diadem and sceptre high advanc'd The lower still I fall, only supreme In misery; such joy ambition finds. But say I could repent and could obtain By act of grace my former state; how soon Would height recall high thoughts, how soon unsay What feign'd submission swore: ease would recant Vows made in pain, as violent and void. For never can true reconcilement grow Where wounds of deadly hate have pierc'd so deep: Which would but lead me to a worse relapse And heavier fall: so should I purchase dear Short intermission bought with double smart. This knows my Punisher; therefore as far From granting he, as I from begging peace All hope excluded thus, behold in stead Of us outcast, exil'd, his new delight, Mankind created, and for him this world. So farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear, Farewell remorse: all good to me is lost; Evil be thou my good; by thee at least Divided empire with Heav'n's King I hold By thee, and more than half perhaps will reign; As man ere long, and this new world shall know.
Thus while he spake, each passion dimm'd his face Thrice chang'd with pale, ire, envy and despair, Which marr'd his borrow'd visage, and betray'd Him counterfeit, if any eye beheld. For heav'nly minds from such distempers foul Are ever clear. Whereof he soon aware, Each perturbation smooth'd with outward calm, Artificer of fraud; and was the first That practis'd falsehood under saintly show, Deep malice to conceal, couch'd with revenge: Yet not enough had practis'd to deceive Uriel once warn'd; whose eye pursu'd him down The way he went, and on th' Assyrian mount Saw him disfigur'd, more than could befall Spirit of happy sort: his gestures fierce He mark'd and mad demeanour, then alone, As he suppos'd, all unobserv'd, unseen. So on he fares, and to the border comes, Of Eden, where delicious Paradise, Now nearer, crowns with her enclosure green, As with a rural mound the champaign head Of a steep wilderness, whose hairy sides With thicket overgrown, grotesque and wild, Access deni'd; and over head up grew Insuperable height of loftiest shade, Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching palm, A sylvan scene, and as the ranks ascend Shade above shade, a woody theatre Of stateliest view. Yet higher than their tops The verdurous wall of Paradise up sprung: Which to our general sire gave prospect large Into his nether empire neighbouring round. And higher than that wall a circling row Of goodliest trees loaden with fairest fruit, Blossoms and fruits at once of golden hue Appear'd, with gay enamel'd colours mixed: On which the sun more glad impress'd his beams Than on fair evening cloud, or humid bow, When God hath shower'd the earth; so lovely seem'd That landscape: and of pure now purer air Meets his approach, and to the heart inspires Vernal delight and joy, able to drive All sadness but despair: now gentle gales Fanning their odoriferous wings dispense Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stole Those balmy spoils. As when to them who sail Beyond the Cape of Hope, and now are past Mozambic, off at sea north-east winds blow Sabean odours from the spicy shore Of Arabie the blest, with such delay Well pleas'd they slack their course, and many a league Cheer'd with the grateful smell old Ocean smiles. So entertain'd those odorous sweets the fiend Who came their bane, though with them better pleas'd Than Asmodeus with the fishy fume, That drove him, though enamour'd, from the spouse Of Tobit's son, and with a vengeance sent From Media post to Egypt, there fast bound.
Now to th' ascent of that steep savage hill Satan had journey'd on, pensive and slow; But further way found none, so thick entwin'd, As one continu'd brake, the undergrowth Of shrubs and tangling bushes had perplex'd All path of man or beast that pass'd that way: One gate there only was, and that look'd east On th' other side: which when th' arch-felon saw Due entrance he disdain'd, and in contempt, At one slight bound high overleap'd all bound Of hill or highest wall, and sheer within Lights on his feet. As when a prowling wolf, Whom hunger drives to seek new haunt for prey, Watching where shepherds pen their flocks at eve In hurdl'd cotes amid the field secure, Leaps o'er the fence with ease into the fold: Or as a thief bent to unhoard the cash Of some rich burgher, whose substantial doors, Cross-barr'd and bolted fast, fear no assault, In at the window climbs, or o'er the tiles; So clomb this first grand thief into God's fold: So since into his church lewd hirelings climb. Thence up he flew, and on the tree of life The middle tree and highest there that grew, Sat like a cormorant; yet not true life Thereby regain'd, but sat devising death To them who liv'd; nor on the virtue thought Of that life-giving plant, but only us'd For prospect, what well us'd had been the pledge Of immortality. So little knows Any, but God alone, to value right The good before him, but perverts best things To worst abuse, or to their meanest use. Beneath him with new wonder now he views To all delight of human sense expos'd In narrow room Nature's whole wealth, yea more, A Heav'n on Earth, for blissful Paradise Of God the garden was, by him in the east Of Eden planted; Eden stretch'd her line From Auran eastward to the royal towers Of great Seleucia, built by Grecian kings, Or where the sons of Eden long before Dwelt in Telassar: in this pleasant soil His far more pleasant garden God ordain'd; Out of the fertile ground he caus'd to grow All trees of noblest kind for sight, smell, taste; And all amid them stood, the tree of life, High eminent, blooming ambrosial fruit Of vegetable gold; and next to life Our death the tree of knowledge grew fast by, Knowledge of good bought dear by knowing ill. Southward through Eden went a river large, Nor chang'd his course, but through the shaggy hill Pass'd underneath engulf'd, for God had thrown That mountain as his garden mould high rais'd Upon the rapid current, which through veins Of porous earth with kindly thirst up drawn, Rose a fresh fountain, and with many a rill Water'd the garden; thence united fell Down the steep glade, and met the nether flood, Which from his darksome passage now appears, And now divided into four main streams, Runs divers, wand'ring many a famous realm And country whereof here needs no account, But rather to tell how, if art could tell, How from that sapphire fount the crisped brooks, Rolling on orient pearl and sands of gold, With mazy error under pendant shades Ran nectar, visiting each plant, and fed Flowers worthy of Paradise which not nice art In beds and curious knots, but Nature boon Pour'd forth profuse on hill and dale and plain, Both where the morning sun first warmly smote The open field, and where the unpierc'd shade Imbrown'd the noontide bowers: thus was this place, balm, A happy rural seat of various view; Groves whose rich trees wept odorous gums and Others whose fruit burnish'd with golden rind Hung amiable, Hesperian fables true, If true, here only, and of delicious taste: Betwixt them lawns, or level downs, and flocks Grazing the tender herb, were interpos'd, Or palmy hillock, or the flowery lap Of some irriguous valley spread her store, Flowers of all hue, and without thorn the rose: Another side, umbrageous grots and caves Of cool recess, o'er which the mantling vine Lays forth her purple grape, and gently creeps Luxuriant; meanwhile murmuring waters fall Down the slope hills, dispers'd, or in a lake, That to the fringed bank with myrtle crown'd, Her crystal mirror holds, unite their streams. The birds their choir apply; airs, vernal airs, Breathing the smell of field and grove, attune The trembling leaves, while universal Pan Knit with the Graces and the Hours in dance Led on th' eternal spring. Not that fair field Of Enna, where Proserpin gathering flowers Herself a fairer flower by gloomy Dis Was gather'd, which cost Ceres all that pain To seek her through the world; nor that sweet grove Of Daphne by Orontes, and th' inspir'd Castalian spring, might with this Paradise Of Eden strive; nor that Nyseian isle Girt with the river Triton, where old Cham, Whom gentiles Ammon call and Libyan Jove, Hid Amalthea and her florid son Young Bacchus from his stepdame Rhea's eye; Nor where Abassin kings their issue guard, Mount Amara, though this by some suppos'd True Paradise under the Ethiop line By Nilus' head, enclos'd with shining rock, A whole day's journey high, but wide remote From this Assyrian garden, where the fiend Saw undelighted all delight, all kind Of living creatures new to sight and strange: Two of far nobler shape erect and tall, Godlike erect, with native honour clad In naked majesty seem'd lords of all, And worthy seem'd, for in their looks divine The image of their glorious Maker shone, Truth, wisdom, sanctitude severe and pure, Severe but in true filial freedom plac'd; Whence true authority in men; though both Not equal, as their sex not equal seem'd; For contemplation he and valour form'd, For softness she and sweet attractive grace, He for God only, she for God in him: His fair large front and eye sublime declar'd Absolute rule; and hyacinthine locks Round from his parted forelock manly hung Clust'ring, but not beneath his shoulders broad: She as a veil down to the slender waist Her unadorned golden tresses wore Dishevel'd, but in wanton ringlets wav'd As the vine curls her tendrils, which impli'd Subjection, but requir'd with gentle sway, And by her yielded, by him best receiv'd, Yielded with coy submission, modest pride, And sweet reluctant amorous delay. Nor those mysterious parts were then conceal'd, Then was not guilty shame, dishonest shame Of nature's works, honour dishonourable, Sin-bred, how have ye troubl'd all mankind With shows instead, mere shows of seeming pure, And banished from man's life his happiest life, Simplicity and spotless innocence. So pass'd they naked on, nor shunn'd the sight Of God or angel, for they thought no ill: So hand in hand they pass'd, the loveliest pair That ever since in love's embraces met, Adam the goodliest man of men since born His sons, the fairest of her daughters Eve. Under a tuft of shade that on a green Stood whispering soft, by a fresh fountain side They sat them down, and after no more toil Of their sweet gard'ning labour than suffic'd To recommend cool Zephyr, and made ease More easy, wholesome thirst and appetite More grateful, to their supper fruits they fell, Nectarine fruits which the compliant boughs Yielded them, side-long as they sat recline On the soft downy bank damask'd with flowers: The savoury pulp they chew, and in the rind Still as they thirsted scoop the brimming stream; Nor gentle purpose, nor endearing smiles Wanted, nor youthful dalliance as beseems Fair couple, link'd in happy nuptial league, Alone as they. About them frisking play'd All beasts of th' earth, since wild, and of all chase In wood or wilderness, forest or den; Sporting the lion ramp'd, and in his paw Dandl'd the kid; bears, tigers, ounces, pards, Gambol'd before them, th' unwieldy elephant To make them mirth us'd all his might, and wreath'd His lithe proboscis; close the serpent sly Insinuating, wove with Gordian twine His braided train, and of his fatal guile Gave proof unheeded; others on the grass Couch'd, and now fill'd with pasture gazing sat, Or bedward ruminating: for the sun Declin'd was hasting now with prone career To th' ocean isles, and in th' ascending scale Of Heav'n the stars that usher evening rose. When Satan still in gaze, as first he stood, Scarce thus at length fail'd speech recover'd sad.
O Hell! what do mine eyes with grief behold, Into our room of bliss thus high advanc'd creatures of other mould, earth-born perhaps, Not Spirits, yet to heav'nly Spirits bright Little inferior; whom my thoughts pursue With wonder, and could love, so lively shines In them Divine resemblance, and such grace The hand that form'd them on their shape hath pour'd. Ah gentle pair, ye little think how nigh Your change approaches, when all these delights Will vanish and deliver ye to woe; More woe, the more your taste is now of joy; Happy, but for so happy ill secur'd Long to continue, and this high seat your Heav'n Ill fenc'd for Heav'n to keep out such a foe As now is enter'd; yet no purpos'd foe To you whom I could pity thus forlorn Though I unpitied: league with you I seek, And mutual amity so straight, so close, That I with you must dwell, or you with me Henceforth; my dwelling haply may not please Like this fair Paradise, your sense, yet such Accept your Maker's work; he gave it me, Which I as freely give; Hell shall unfold, To entertain you two, her widest gates, And send forth all her kings; there will be room, Not like these narrow limits, to receive Your numerous offspring; if no better place, Thank him who puts me loath to this revenge On you who wrong me not for him who wrong'd. And should I at your harmless innocence Melt, as I do, yet public reason just, honour and empire with revenge enlarg'd, By conquering this new World, compels me now To do what else though damn'd I should abhor.
So spake the fiend, and with necessity, The tyrant's plea, excus'd his devilish deeds. Then from his lofty stand on that high tree Down he alights among the sportful herd Of those four-footed kinds, himself now one, Now other, as their shape serv'd best his end Nearer to view his prey, and unespi'd To mark what of their state he more might learn By word or action mark'd: about them round A lion now he stalks with fiery glare, Then as a tiger, who by chance hath spi'd In some purlieu two gentle fawns at play, Straight couches close, then rising changes oft His couchant watch, as one who chose his ground Whence rushing he might surest seize them both Grip'd in each paw: when Adam first of men To first of women Eve thus moving speech, Turn'd him all ear to hear new utterance flow.
Sole partner and sole part of all these joys, Dearer thy self than all; needs must the power That made us, and for us this ample world Be infinitely good, and of his good As liberal and free as infinite, That rais'd us from the dust and plac'd us here In all this happiness, who at his hand Have nothing merited, nor can perform Aught whereof he hath need, he who requires From us no other service than to keep This one, this easy charge, of all the trees In Paradise that bear delicious fruit So various, not to taste that only tree Of knowledge, planted by the tree of life, So near grows Death to life, what ere Death is, Some dreadful thing no doubt; for well thou know'st God hath pronounc'd it death to taste that tree, The only sign of our obedience left Among so many signs of power and rule Conferr'd upon us, and dominion giv'n Over all other creatures that possess earth, air, and sea. Then let us not think hard One easy prohibition, who enjoy Free leave so large to all things else, and choice Unlimited of manifold delights: But let us ever praise him and extol His bounty, following our delightful task To prune these growing plants, and tend these flowers, Which were it toilsome, yet with thee were sweet.
To whom thus Eve repli'd. O thou for whom And from whom I was form'd flesh of thy flesh, And without whom am to no end, my guide And head, what thou hast said is just and right. For we to him indeed all praises owe, And daily thanks, I chiefly who enjoy So far the happier lot, enjoying thee Preeminent by so much odds, while thou Like consort to thyself canst nowhere find. That day I oft remember, when from sleep I first awak'd, and found myself repos'd Under a shade of flowers, much wond'ring where And what I was, whence thither brought, and how. Not distant far from thence a murmuring sound Of waters issu'd from a cave and spread Into a liquid plain, then stood unmov'd Pure as th' expanse of Heav'n; I thither went With unexperienc'd thought, and laid me down On the green bank, to look into the clear Smooth lake, that to me seem'd another sky. As I bent down to look, just opposite, A shape within the wat'ry gleam appear'd Bending to look on me, I started back, It started back, but pleas'd I soon return'd, Pleas'd it return'd as soon with answering looks Of sympathy and love; there I had fixed Mine eyes till now, and pin'd with vain desire, Had not a voice thus warn'd me, What thou seest, What there thou seest, fair creature, is thyself, With thee it came and goes: but follow me, And I will bring thee where no shadow stays Thy coming, and thy soft embraces, he Whose image thou art, him thou shalt enjoy Inseparably thine, to him shalt bear Multitudes like thyself, and thence be call'd Mother of human race: what could I do, But follow straight, invisibly thus led? Till I espi'd thee, fair indeed and tall, Under a platan, yet methought less fair, Less winning soft, less amiably mild, Than that smooth wat'ry image; back I turn'd, Thou following cried'st aloud, Return fair Eve, Whom fly'st thou? whom thou fly'st, of him thou art, His flesh, his bone; to give thee being I lent Out of my side to thee, nearest my heart Substantial life, to have thee by my side Henceforth an individual solace dear; Part of my soul I seek thee, and thee claim My other half: with that thy gentle hand Seiz'd mine, I yielded, and from that time see How beauty is excell'd by manly grace And wisdom, which alone is truly fair.
So spake our general mother, and with eyes Of conjugal attraction unreprov'd, And meek surrender, half embracing lean'd On our first father, half her swelling breast Naked met his under the flowing Gold Of her loose tresses hid: he in delight Both of her beauty and submissive charms Smil'd with superior love, as Jupiter On Juno smiles, when he impregns the clouds That shed May flowers; and press'd her matron lip With kisses pure: aside the Devil turn'd For envy, yet with jealous leer malign Ey'd them askance, and to himself thus plain'd.
Sight hateful, sight tormenting! thus these two Imparadis'd in one another's arms The happier Eden, shall enjoy their fill Of bliss on bliss, while I to Hell am thrust, Where neither joy nor love, but fierce desire, Among our other torments not the least, Still unfulfill'd with pain of longing pines; Yet let me not forget what I have gain'd From their own mouths; all is not theirs it seems: One fatal tree there stands of knowledge call'd, Forbidden them to taste: knowledge forbidd'n? Suspicious, reasonless. Why should their lord Envy them that? can it be sin to know, Can it be death? and do they only stand By ignorance, is that their happy state, The proof of their obedience and their faith? O fair foundation laid whereon to build Their ruin! Hence I will excite their minds With more desire to know, and to reject Envious commands, invented with design To keep them low whom knowledge might exalt Equal with Gods; aspiring to be such, They taste and die: what likelier can ensue? But first with narrow search I must walk round This garden, and no corner leave unspi'd; A chance but chance may lead where I may meet Some wand'ring spirit of Heav'n, by fountain side, Or in thick shade retir'd, from him to draw What further would be learnt. Live while ye may, Yet happy pair; enjoy, till I return, Short pleasures, for long woes are to succeed.
So saying, his proud step he scornful turn'd, But with sly circumspection, and began Through wood, through waste, o'er hill, o'er dale his roam. Meanwhile in utmost longitude, where Heav'n With earth and ocean meets, the setting sun Slowly descended, and with right aspect Against the eastern gate of Paradise Level'd his evening rays: it was a rock Of alabaster, pil'd up to the clouds, Conspicuous far, winding with one ascent Accessible from earth, one entrance high; The rest was craggy cliff, that overhung Still as it rose, impossible to climb. Betwixt these rocky pillars Gabriel sat Chief of th' angelic guards, awaiting night; About him exercis'd heroic games Th' unarmed youth of Heav'n, but nigh at hand Celestial armoury, shields, helms, and spears, Hung high with diamond flaming, and with gold. Thither came Uriel, gliding through the even On a sun-beam, swift as a shooting star In Autumn thwarts the night, when vapours fir'd Impress the air, and shows the mariner From what point of his Compass to beware Impetuous winds: he thus began in haste.
Gabriel, to thee thy course by lot hath giv'n Charge and strict watch that to this happy place No evil thing approach or enter in; This day at height of noon came to my sphere A spirit, zealous, as he seem'd, to know More of th' Almighty's works, and chiefly man God's latest image: I describ'd his way Bent all on speed, and mark'd his airy gait; But in the Mount that lies from Eden North, Where he first lighted, soon discern'd his looks Alien from Heav'n, with passions foul obscur'd: Mine eye pursu'd him still, but under shade Lost sight of him; one of the banished crew I fear, hath ventur'd from the deep, to raise New troubles; him thy care must be to find.
To whom the winged warrior thus return'd: Uriel, no wonder if thy perfect sight, Amid the sun's bright circle where thou first, See far and wide: in at this gate none pass The vigilance here plac'd, but such as come Well known from Heav'n; and since meridian hour No creature thence: if spirit of other sort, So minded, have o'erleapt these earthy bounds On purpose, hard thou know'st it to exclude Spiritual substance with corporeal bar. But if within the circuit of these walks, In whatsoever shape he lurk, of whom Thou tell'st, by morrow dawning I shall know.
So promis'd he, and Uriel to his charge Return'd on that bright beam, whose point now rais'd Bore him slope downward to the sun now fall'n Beneath th' Azores; whither the prime orb, Incredible how swift, had thither roll'd Diurnal, or this less voluble earth By shorter flight to th' East, had left him there Arraying with reflected purple and gold The clouds that on his western throne attend: Now came still evening on, and twilight grey Had in her sober livery all things clad; Silence accompanied, for beast and bird, They to their grassy couch, these to their nests Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale; She all night long her amorous descant sung; Silence was pleas'd: now glow'd the firmament With living sapphires: Hesperus that led The starry host, rode brightest, till the moon Rising in clouded majesty, at length Apparent queen unveil'd her peerless light, And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw.
When Adam thus to Eve: Fair consort, th' hour Of night, and all things now retir'd to rest Mind us of like repose, since God hath set Labour and rest, as day and night to men Successive, and the timely dew of sleep Now falling with soft slumbrous weight inclines Our eyelids; other creatures all day long Rove idle unemploy'd, and less need rest; Man hath his daily work of body or mind Appointed, which declares his dignity, And the regard of Heav'n on all his ways; While other animals inactive range, And of their doings God takes no account. To-morrow ere fresh morning streak the east With first approach of light, we must be ris'n, And at our pleasant labour, to reform Yon flowery arbors, yonder alleys green, Our walk at noon, with branches overgrown, That mock our scant manuring, and require More hands than ours to lop their wanton growth: Those blossoms also, and those dropping gums, That lie bestrewn unsightly and unsmooth, Ask riddance, if we mean to tread with ease; Meanwhile, as Nature wills, night bids us rest.
To whom thus Eve with perfect beauty adorn'd. My author and disposer, what thou bidst Unargu'd I obey; so God ordains, God is thy law, thou mine: to know no more Is woman's happiest knowledge and her praise. With thee conversing I forget all time, All seasons and their change, all please alike. Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the sun When first on this delightful Land he spreads His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower, Glist'ring with dew; fragrant the fertile earth After soft showers; and sweet the coming on Of grateful evening mild, then silent night With this her solemn bird and this fair moon, And these the gems of Heav'n, her starry train: But neither breath of morn when she ascends With charm of earliest birds, nor rising sun On this delightful land, nor herb, fruit, flower, Glist'ring with dew, nor fragrance after showers, Nor grateful evening mild, nor silent night With this her solemn bird, nor walk by moon, Or glittering star-light without thee is sweet. But wherefore all night long shine these, for whom This glorious sight, when sleep hath shut all eyes?
To whom our general ancestor repli'd. Daughter of God and man, accomplish'd Eve, These have their course to finish, round the earth, By morrow evening, and from land to land In order, though to nations yet unborn, Minist'ring light prepar'd, they set and rise; Lest total darkness should by night regain Her old possession, and extinguish life In Nature and all things, which these soft fires Not only enlighten, but with kindly heat Of various influence foment and warm, Temper or nourish, or in part shed down Their stellar virtue on all kinds that grow On earth, made hereby apter to receive Perfection from the sun's more potent ray. These then, though unbeheld in deep of night, Shine not in vain, nor think, though men were none, That Heav'n would want spectators, God want praise; Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth Unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep: All these with ceaseless praise his works behold Both day and night: how often from the steep Of echoing hill or thicket have we heard Celestial voices to the midnight air, Sole, or responsive each to other's note Singing their great Creator: oft in bands While they keep watch, or nightly rounding walk With Heav'nly touch of instrumental sounds In full harmonic number join'd, their songs Divide the night, and lift our thoughts to Heaven.
Thus talking hand in hand alone they pass'd On to their blissful bower; it was a place Chos'n by the sovereign planter, when he fram'd All things to man's delightful use; the roof Of thickest covert was inwoven shade Laurel and myrtle, and what higher grew Of firm and fragrant leaf; on either side Acanthus, and each odorous bushy shrub Fenc'd up the verdant wall; each beauteous flower, Iris all hues, roses, and jessamine Rear'd high their flourish'd heads between, and wrought Mosaic; underfoot the violet, Crocus, and hyacinth with rich inlay Broider'd the ground, more colour'd than with stone Of costliest emblem: other creature here Beast, bird, insect, or worm durst enter none; Such was their awe of man. In shady bower More sacred and sequester'd, though but feign'd, Pan or Silvanus never slept, nor nymph, Nor Faunus haunted. Here in close recess With flowers, garlands, and sweet-smelling herbs Espoused Eve deck'd first her nuptial bed, And Heav'nly choirs the Hymenaean sung, What day the genial angel to our Sire Brought her in naked beauty more adorn'd, More lovely than Pandora, whom the Gods Endow'd with all their gifts, and O too like In sad event, when to the unwiser son Of Japhet brought by Hermes, she ensnar'd Mankind with her fair looks, to be avenged On him who had stole Jove's authentic fire.
Thus at their shady lodge arriv'd, both stood Both turn'd, and under open sky ador'd The God that made both sky, air, earth and Heav'n Which they beheld, the moon's resplendent globe And starry pole: Thou also mad'st the night, Maker Omnipotent, and thou the day, Which we in our appointed work employ'd Have finished happy in our mutual help And mutual love, the crown of all our bliss Ordain'd by thee, and this delicious place For us too large, where thy abundance wants Partakers, and uncropped falls to the ground. But thou hast promis'd from us two a race To fill the earth, who shall with us extol Thy goodness infinite, both when we wake, And when we seek, as now, thy gift of sleep.
This said unanimous, and other rites Observing none, but adoration pure Which God likes best, into their inmost bower Handed they went; and eas'd the parting off These troublesome disguises which we wear, Straight side by side were laid, nor turn'd I ween Adam from his fair spouse, nor Eve the rites Mysterious of connubial love refus'd: Whatever hypocrites austerely talk Of purity and place and innocence, Defaming as impure what God declares Pure, and commands to some, leaves free to all. Our Maker bids increase, who bids abstain But our destroyer, foe to God and Man? Hail wedded love, mysterious law, true source Of human offspring, sole propriety, In Paradise of all things common else. By thee adulterous lust was driv'n from men Among the bestial herds to range, by thee Founded in reason, loyal, just, and pure, Relations dear, and all the charities Of father, son, and brother first were known. Far be it, that I should write thee sin or blame, Or think thee unbefitting holiest place, Perpetual fountain of domestic sweets, Whose bed is undefil'd and chaste pronounc'd, Present, or past, as saints and patriarchs us'd. Here Love his golden shafts employs, here lights His constant lamp, and waves his purple wings, Reigns here and revels; not in the bought smile Of harlots, loveless, joyless, unendear'd, Casual fruition, nor in court amours Mixed dance, or wanton mask, or midnight ball, Or serenade, which the starv'd lover sings To his proud fair, best quitted with disdain. These lull'd by nightingales embracing slept, And on their naked limbs the flowery roof Shower'd roses, which the morn repair'd. Sleep on Blest pair; and O yet happiest if ye seek No happier state, and know to know no more.
Now had night measur'd with her shadowy cone Half way up hill this vast sublunar vault, And from their ivory port the Cherubim Forth issuing at th' accustom'd hour stood arm'd To their night watches in warlike parade, When Gabriel to his next in power thus spake.
Uzziel, half these draw off, and coast the South With strictest watch; these other wheel the North, Our circuit meets full West. As flame they part Half wheeling to the Shield, half to the spear. From these, two strong and subtle spirits he call'd That near him stood, and gave them thus in charge.
Ithuriel and Zephon, with wing'd speed Search through this garden, leave unsearch'd no nook, But chiefly where those two fair creatures lodge, Now laid perhaps asleep secure of harm. This evening from the sun's decline arriv'd Who tells of some infernal spirit seen Hitherward bent (who could have thought?) escap'd The bars of Hell, on errand bad no doubt: Such where ye find, seize fast, and hither bring.
So saying, on he led his radiant files, Dazzling the moon; these to the bower direct In search of whom they sought: him there they found Squat like a toad, close at the ear of Eve. Assaying by his devilish art to reach The organs of her fancy, and with them forge Illusions as he list, phantasms and dreams, Or if, inspiring venom, he might taint Th' animal spirits that from pure blood arise Like gentle breaths from rivers pure, thence raise At least distemper'd, discontented thoughts, Vain hopes, vain aims, inordinate desires Blown up with high conceits engend'ring pride. Him thus intent Ithuriel with his spear Touch'd lightly; for no falsehood can endure Touch of celestial temper, but returns Of force to its own likeness: up he starts Discover'd and surpris'd. As when a spark Lights on a heap of nitrous powder, laid Fit for the tun some magazine to store Against a rumour'd war, the smutty grain With sudden blaze diffus'd, inflames the air: So started up in his own shape the fiend. Back stepped those two fair angels half amaz'd So sudden to behold the grisly King; Yet thus, unmov'd with fear, accost him soon.
Which of those rebel spirits adjudg'd to Hell Com'st thou, escap'd thy prison, and transform'd, Why sat'st thou like an enemy in wait Here watching at the head of these that sleep?
Know ye not then said Satan, fill'd with scorn, Know ye not me? ye knew me once no mate For you, there sitting where ye durst not soar; Not to know me argues yourselves unknown, The lowest of your throng; or if ye know, Why ask ye, and superfluous begin Your message, like to end as much in vain? To whom thus Zephon, answering scorn with scorn. Think not, revolted spirit, thy shape the same, Or undiminish'd brightness, to be known As when thou stood'st in Heav'n upright and pure; That glory then, when thou no more wast good, Departed from thee, and thou resembl'st now Thy sin and place of doom obscure and foul. But come, for thou, be sure, shalt give account To him who sent us, whose charge is to keep This place inviolable, and these from harm.
So spake the cherub, and his grave rebuke Severe in youthful beauty, added grace Invincible: abash'd the Devil stood, And felt how awful goodness is, and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely, saw, and pin'd His loss; but chiefly to find here observ'd His lustre visibly impair'd; yet seem'd Undaunted. If I must contend, said he, Best with the best, the sender not the sent, Or all at once; more glory will be won, Or less be lost. Thy fear, said Zephon bold, Will save us trial what the least can do Single against thee wicked, and thence weak.
The fiend repli'd not, overcome with rage; But like a proud steed rein'd, went haughty on, Champing his iron curb: to strive or fly He held it vain; awe from above had quell'd His heart, not else dismay'd. Now drew they nigh The western point, where those half-rounding guards Just met, and closing stood in squadron join'd Awaiting next command. To whom their Chief Gabriel from the front thus call'd aloud.
O friends, I hear the tread of nimble feet Hasting this way, and now by glimpse discern Ithuriel and Zephon through the shade, And with them comes a third of regal port, But faded splendour wan; who by his gait And fierce demeanour seems the Prince of Hell, Not likely to part hence without contest; Stand firm, for in his look defiance lours.
He scarce had ended, when those two approach'd And brief related whom they brought, where found, How busied, in what form and posture couch'd.
To whom with stern regard thus Gabriel spake. Why hast thou, Satan, broke the bounds prescrib'd To thy transgressions, and disturb'd the charge Of others, who approve not to transgress By thy example, but have power and right To question thy bold entrance on this place; Employ'd it seems to violate sleep, and those Whose dwelling God hath planted here in bliss?
To whom thus Satan, with contemptuous brow. Gabriel, thou hadst in Heav'n th' esteem of wise, And such I held thee; but this question ask'd Puts me in doubt. Lives there who loves his pain? Who would not, finding way, break loose from Hell, Though thither doom'd? Thou wouldst thyself, no doubt, And boldly venture to whatever place Farthest from pain, where thou mightst hope to change Torment with ease, and soonest recompense Dole with delight, which in this place I sought; To thee no reason; who know'st only good, But evil hast not tri'd: and wilt object His will who bound us? let him surer bar His iron gates, if he intends our stay In that dark durance: thus much what was ask'd. The rest is true, they found me where they say; But that implies not violence or harm.
Thus he in scorn. The warlike angel mov'd, Disdainfully half smiling thus repli'd. O loss of one in Heav'n to judge of wise, Since Satan fell, whom folly overthrew, And now returns him from his prison 'scap'd, Gravely in doubt whether to hold them wise Or not, who ask what boldness brought him hither Unlicens'd from his bounds in Hell prescrib'd; So wise he judges it to fly from pain However, and to 'scape his punishment. So judge thou still, presumptuous, till the wrath, Which thou incurr'st by flying, meet thy flight Sevenfold, and scourge that wisdom back to Hell, Which taught thee yet no better, that no pain Can equal anger infinite provok'd. But wherefore thou alone? wherefore with thee Came not all Hell broke loose? is pain to them Less pain, less to be fled, or thou than they Less hardy to endure? courageous Chief, The first in flight from pain, hadst thou alleg'd To thy deserted host this cause of flight, thou surely hadst not come sole fugitive.
To which the fiend thus answer'd frowning stern. Not that I less endure, or shrink from pain, Insulting angel, well thou know'st I stood Thy fiercest, when in battle to thy aid Thy blasting volley'd thunder made all speed And seconded thy else not dreaded spear. But still thy words at random, as before, Argue thy inexperience what behooves From hard assays and ill successes past A faithful leader, not to hazard all Through ways of danger by himself untri'd, I therefore, I alone first undertook To wing the desolate abyss, and spy This new created World, whereof in Hell Fame is not silent, here in hope to find Better abode, and my afflicted powers To settle here on Earth, or in mid air; Though for possession put to try once more What thou and thy gay legions dare against; Whose easier business were to serve their Lord High up in Heav'n, with songs to hymn his throne, And practis'd distances to cringe, not fight.
To whom the warrior angel, soon repli'd. To say and straight unsay, pretending first Wise to fly pain, professing next the spy, Argues no leader but a liar trac'd, Satan, and couldst thou faithful add? O name, O sacred name of faithfulness profan'd! Faithful to whom? to thy rebellious crew? Army of fiends, fit body to fit head; Was this your discipline and faith engag'd, Your military obedience, to dissolve Allegiance to th' acknowledg'd Power supreme? And thou sly hypocrite, who now wouldst seem Patron of liberty, who more than thou Once fawn'd, and cring'd, and servilely ador'd Heav'n's awful Monarch? wherefore but in hope To dispossess him, and thyself to reign? But mark what I areed thee now, avaunt; Fly thither whence thou fledst: if from this hour Within these hallow'd limits thou appear, Back to th' infernal pit I drag thee chain'd, And seal thee so, as henceforth not to scorn The facile gates of Hell too slightly barr'd.
So threatn'd he, but Satan to no threats Gave heed, but waxing more in rage repli'd.
Then when I am thy captive talk of chains, Proud limitary cherub, but ere then Far heavier load thyself expect to feel From my prevailing arm, though Heav'n's King Ride on thy wings, and thou with thy compeers, Us'd to the yoke, draw'st his triumphant wheels In progress through the road of Heav'n star-pav'd.
While thus he spake, th' angelic squadron bright Turn'd fiery red, sharp'ning in mooned horns Their phalanx, and began to hem him round With ported spears, as thick as when a field Of Ceres ripe for harvest waving bends Her bearded grove of ears, which way the wind Sways them; the careful ploughman doubting stands Lest on the threshing floor his hopeful sheaves Prove chaff. On th' other side Satan alarm'd Collecting all his might dilated stood, Like Teneriffe or Atlas unremov'd: His stature reach'd the sky, and on his crest Sat horror plum'd; nor wanted in his grasp What seem'd both spear and shield: now dreadful deeds Might have ensu'd, nor only Paradise In this commotion, but the starry cope Of Heav'n perhaps, or all the elements At least had gone to rack, disturb'd and torn With violence of this conflict, had not soon Th' Eternal to prevent such horrid fray Hung forth in Heav'n his golden scales, yet seen Betwixt Astraea and the Scorpion sign, Wherein all things created first he weigh'd, The pendulous round earth with balanc'd air In counterpoise, now ponders all events, Battles and realms: in these he put two weights The sequel each of parting and of fight, The latter quick up flew, and kick'd the beam; Which Gabriel spying, thus bespake the fiend.
Satan, I know thy strength, and thou know'st mine, Neither our own but giv'n; what folly then To boast what arms can do, since thine no more Than Heav'n permits, nor mine, though doubl'd now To trample thee as mire: for proof look up, And read thy lot in yon celestial sign Where thou art weigh'd, and shown how light, how weak, If thou resist. The fiend look'd up and knew His mounted scale aloft: nor more; but fled Murmuring, and with him fled the shades of night.
BOOK V.
THE ARGUMENT.
Morning approach'd, Eve relates to Adam her troublesome dream; he likes it not, yet comforts her: They come forth to their day labours: Their morning hymn at the door of their bower. God to render man inexcusable sends Raphael to admonish him of his obedience, of his free estate, of his enemy near at hand; who he is, and why his enemy, and whatever else may avail Adam to know. Raphael comes down to paradise, his appearance describ'd, his coming discern'd by Adam afar off sitting at the door of his bower; he goes out to meet him, brings him to his lodge, entertains him with the choicest fruits of paradise got together by Eve; their discourse at table: Raphael performs his message, minds Adam of his state and of his enemy; relates at Adam's request who that enemy is, and how he came to be so, beginning from his first revolt in Heaven, and the occasion thereof; how he drew his legions after him to the parts of the north, and there incited them to rebel with him, persuading all but only Abdiel a seraph, who in argument dissuades and opposes him, then forsakes him.
NOw morn her rosy steps in th' eastern clime Advancing, sow'd the earth with orient pearl, When Adam wak't, so custom'd, for his sleep Was airy light from pure digestion bred, And temperate vapours bland, which th' only sound Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan, Lightly dispers'd, and the shrill matin song Of birds on every bough; so much the more His wonder was to find unwak'nd Eve With tresses discompos'd, and glowing cheek, As through unquiet rest: he on his side Leaning half-rais'd, with looks of cordial love Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld Beauty, which whether waking or asleep, Shot forth peculiar graces; then with voice Mild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes, Her hand soft touching, whisper'd thus. Awake My fairest, my espous'd, my latest found, Heav'n's last best gift, my ever new delight, Awake, the morning shines, and the fresh field Calls us, we lose the prime, to mark how spring Our tended plants, how blows the citron grove, What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed, How Nature paints her colours, how the bee Sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweet.
Such whispering wak'd her, but with startl'd eye On Adam, whom embracing, thus she spake.
O sole in whom my thoughts find all repose, My glory, my perfection, glad I see Thy face, and morn return'd, for I this night, Such night till this I never pass'd, have dream'd, If dream'd, not as I oft am wont, of thee, Works of day pass't, or morrow's next design, But of offence and trouble, which my mind Knew never till this irksome night; methought Close at mine ear one call'd me forth to walk With gentle voice, I thought it thine; it said, Why sleepst thou Eve? now is the pleasant time, The cool, the silent, save where silence yields To the night-warbling bird, that now awake Tunes sweetest his love-labour'd song; now reigns Full orb'd the moon, and with more pleasing light Shadowy sets off the face of things; in vain, If none regard; Heav'n wakes with all his eyes, Whom to behold but thee, Nature's desire, In whose sight all things joy, with ravishment Attracted by thy beauty still to gaze. I rose as at thy call, but found thee not; To find thee I directed then my walk; And on, methought, alone I pass'd through ways That brought me on a sudden to the tree Of interdicted knowledge: fair it seem'd, Much fairer to my fancy than by day: And as I wond'ring look'd▪ beside it stood One shap'd and wing'd like one of those from Heav'n By us oft seen; his dewy locks distill'd Ambrosia; on that tree he also gaz'd; And o fair plant, said he, with fruit surcharg'd, Deigns none to ease thy load and taste thy sweet, Nor God, nor man; is knowledge so despis'd? Or envy, or what reserve forbids to taste? Forbid who will, none shall from me withhold Longer thy offer'd good, why else set here? This said he paus'd not, but with vent'rous arm He pluck'd, he tasted; me damp horror chil'd At such bold words vouch'd with a deed so bold: But he thus overjoy'd, o fruit divine, Sweet of thy self, but much more sweet thus cropped, Forbidd'n here, it seems, as only fit For Gods, yet able to make Gods of men: And why not Gods of men, since good, the more Communicated, more abundant grows, The author not impair'd, but honour'd more? Here, happy creature, fair angelic Eve, Partake thou also; happy though thou art, Happier thou mayst be, worthier canst not be: Taste this, and be henceforth among the Gods Thy self a goddess, not to Earth confin'd, But sometimes in the air, as we, sometimes Ascend to Heav'n, by merit thine, and see What life the Gods live there, and such live thou. So saying, he drew nigh, and to me held, Even to my mouth of that same fruit held part Which he had pluck'd; the pleasant savoury smell So quick'nd appetite, that I, methought, Could not but taste. Forthwith up to the clouds With him I flew, and underneath beheld The Earth outstretch'd immense, a prospect wide And various: wond'ring at my flight and change To this high exaltation; suddenly. My guide was gone, and I, me thought, sunk down, And fell asleep; but o how glad I wak'd To find this but a dream! Thus Eve her night Related, and thus Adam answer'd sad.
Best image of my self and dearer half, The trouble of thy thoughts this night in sleep Affects me equally; nor can I like This uncouth dream, of evil sprung I fear; Yet evil whence? in thee can harbour none, Created pure. But know that in the soul Are many lesser faculties that serve Reason as chief; among these fancy next Her office holds; of all external things, Which the five watchful senses represent, She forms imaginations, airy shapes, Which reason joining or disjoining, frames All what we affirm or what deny, and call Our knowledge or opinion; then retires Into her private cell when Nature rests. Oft in her absence mimic fancy wakes To imitate her; but misjoining shapes, Wild work produces oft, and most in dreams, Ill matching words and deeds long past or late. Some such resemblances methinks I find Of our last evening's talk, in this thy dream, But with addition strange: yet be not sad. Evil into the mind of God or man May come and go, so unapprov'd, and leave No spot or blame behind: Which gives me hope That what in sleep thou didst abhor to dream, Waking thou never wilt consent to do. Be not disheart'nd then, nor cloud those looks That wont to be more cheerful and serene Than when fair morning first smiles on the world, And let us to our fresh employments rise Among the groves, the fountains, and the flowers That open now their choicest bosom'd smells Reserv'd from night, and kept for thee in store.
So cheer'd he his fair spouse, and she was cheer'd, But silently a gentle tear let fall From either eye, and wip'd them with her hair; Two other precious drops that ready stood, Each in their crystal sluice, he ere they fell Kiss'd as the gracious signs of sweet remorse And pious awe, that feard to have offended.
So all was clear'd, and to the field they haste. But first from under shady arborous roof, Soon as they forth were come to open sight Of day-spring, and the sun, who scarce up risen With wheels yet hov'ring o'er the ocean brim, Shot parallel to the earth his dewy ray, Discovering in wide landscape all the East Of paradise and Eden's happy plains, Lowly they bow'd adoring, and began Their orisons, each morning duly paid In various style, for neither various style Nor holy rapture wanted they to praise Their maker, in fit strains pronounc't or sung Unmeditated, such prompt eloquence Flow'd from their lips, in prose or numerous verse, More tuneable than needed lute or harp, To add more sweetness, and they thus began.
These are thy glorious works, parent of good, Almighty, thine this universal frame, Thus wondrous fair; thy self how wondrous then! Unspeakable, who first above these Heavens To us invisible or dimly seen In these thy lowest works, yet these declare Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine: Speak ye who best can tell, ye Sons of light, Angels, for ye behold him, and with songs And choral symphonies, day without night, Circle his throne rejoicing, ye in Heav'n, On Earth join all ye creatures to extol Him first, him last, him midst, and without end. Fairest of stars, last in the train of night, If better thou belong not to the dawn, Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling morn With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere While day arises, that sweet hour of prime. Thou sun, of this great world both eye and soul. Acknowledge him thy greater, sound his praise In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st, And when high noon hast gain'd, and when thou fall'st. Moon, that now meet'st the orient sun, now fly'st With the fixed stars, fixed in their orb that flies, And ye five other wand'ring fires that move In mystic dance not without song, resound His praise, who out of darkness call'd up light. Air, and ye elements the eldest birth Of Nature's womb, that in quaternion run Perpetual circle, multiform; and mix And nourish all things, let your ceaseless change Vary to our great maker still new praise. Ye mists and exhalations that now rise From hill or steaming lake, dusky or grey, Till the sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold, In honour to the world's great author rise, Whether to deck with clouds the uncolour'd sky, Or wet the thirsty Earth with falling showers, Rising or falling still advance his praise. His praise ye winds, that from four quarters blow, Breathe soft or loud; and wave your tops, ye pines, With every plant, in sign of worship wave. Fountains and ye, that warble, as ye flow, Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise. Join voices all ye living souls, ye birds, That singing up to Heaven gate ascend, Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise; Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk The Earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep; Witness if I be silent, morn or even, To hill, or valley, fountain, or fresh shade Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise. Hail universal lord, be bounteous still To give us only good; and if the night Have gathered aught of evil or conceal'd, Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark.
So pray'd they innocent, and to their thoughts Firm peace recover'd soon and wonted calm. On to their morning's rural work they haste Among sweet dews and flowers; where any row Of fruit-trees overwoody reach'd too far Their pamper'd boughs, and needed hands to check Fruitless embraces: or they led the vine To wed her elm; she spous'd about him twines Her marriageable arms, and with her brings Her dowr th' adopted clusters, to adorn His barren leaves. Them thus employ'd beheld With pity Heav'n's high king, and to him call'd Raphael, the sociable Spirit, that deign'd To travel with Tobias, and secur'd His marriage with the seventimes-wedded maid.
Raphael, said he, thou hear'st what stir on Earth Satan from Hell 'scap't through the darksome gulf Hath rais'd in paradise, and how disturb'd This night the human pair, how he designs In them at once to ruin all mankind. Go therefore, half this day as friend with friend Converse with Adam, in what bower or shade Thou find'st him from the heat of noon retir'd, To respite his day-labour with repast, Or with repose; and such discourse bring on, As may advise him of his happy state, Happiness in his power left free to will, Left to his own free will, his will though free, Yet mutable; whence warn him to beware He swerve not too secure: tell him withall His danger, and from whom, what enemy Late fall'n himself from Heav'n, is plotting now The fall of others from like state or bliss; By violence, no, for that shall be withstood, But by deceit and lies; this let him know, Lest wilfully transgressing he pretend Surprisal, unadmonish'd, unforewarn'd.
So spake th' eternal Father, and fulfill'd All justice: nor delay'd the winged saint After his charge receiv'd; but from among Thousand celestial ardors, where he stood Veil'd with his gorgeous wings, up springing light Flew through the midst of Heav'n; th' angelic quires On each hand parting, to his speed gave way Through all th' empyreal road; till at the gate Of Heav'n arriv'd, the gate self-open'd wide On golden hinges turning, as by work Divine the sov'ran architect had fram'd. From hence, no cloud, or, to obstruct his sight, Star interpos'd, however small he sees, Not unconform to other shining globes, Earth and the gard'n of God, with cedars crown'd Above all hills. As when by night the glass Of galileo, less assur'd, observes Imagin'd lands and regions in the moon: Or pilot from amidst the Cyclades Delos or Samos first appearing kenns A cloudy spot. Down thither prone in flight He speeds, and through the vast ethereal sky Sails between worlds and worlds, with steady wing Now on the polar winds, then with quick fan Winnows the buxom air; till within soar Of tow'ring eagles, to all the fowls he seems A phaenix, gaz'd by all, as that sole bird When to enshrine his reliques in the sun's Bright temple, to Egyptian Thebes he flies. At once on th' eastern cliff of paradise He lights, and to his proper shape returns A seraph wing'd; six wings he wore, to shade His lineaments divine; the pair that clad Each shoulder broad, came mantling o'er his breast With regal ornament; the middle pair; Girt like a starry zone his waist, and round Skirted his loins and thighs with downy gold And colours dipt in Heav'n; the third his feet Shadow'd from either heel with feather'd mail Sky-tinctur'd grain. Like Maia's son he stood, And shook his plumes, that heav'nly fragrance filld The circuit wide. Strait knew him all the bands Of angels under watch; and to his state, And to his message high in honour rise; For on some message high they guess'd him bound. Their glittering tents he pass'd, and now is come Into the blissful field, through groves of myrrh, And flow'ring odours, cassia, nard, and balm; A wilderness of sweets; for Nature here Wantond as in her prime, and plaid at will Her virgin fancies, pouring forth more sweet, Wild above rule or art; enormous bliss. Him through the spicy forest onward come Adam discern'd, as in the door he sat Of his cool bower, while now the mounted sun Shot down direct his fervid rays to warm Earth's inmost womb, more warmth than Adam needs; And Eve within, due at her hour prepar'd For dinner savoury fruits, of taste to please True appetite, and not disrelish thirst Of nectarous draughts between, from milky stream, Berry or grape: to whom thus Adam call'd.
Haste hither Eve, and worth thy sight behold Eastward among those trees, what glorious shape Comes this way moving; seems another morn Ris'n on mid-noon; some great behest from Heav'n To us perhaps he brings, and will vouchsafe This day to be our guest. But go with speed, And what thy stores contain, bring forth and pour Abundance, fit to honour and receive Our heav'nly stranger; well we may afford Our givers their own gifts, and large bestow From large bestowd, where Nature multiplies Her fertil growth, and by disburd'ning grows More fruitful, which instructs us not to spare.
To whom thus Eve. Adam, earth's hallow'd mould, Of God inspir'd, small store will serve, where store, All seasons, ripe for use hangs on the stalk; Save what by frugal storing firmness gains To nourish, and superfluous moist consumes: But I will haste and from each bough and break, Each plant and juiciest gourd will pluck such choice To entertain our angel guest, as he Beholding shall confess that here on Earth God hath dispensed his bounties as in Heav'n.
So saying, with dispatchful looks in haste She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent What choice to choose for delicacy best, What order, so contriv'd as not to mix Tastes, not well join'd, inelegant, but bring Taste after taste upheld with kindliest change, Bestirs her then, and from each tender stalk Whatever Earth all-bearing mother yields In India East or West, or middle shore In Pontus or the Punic coast, or where Alcinous reign'd, fruit of all kinds, in coat, Rough, or smooth rinded, or bearded husk, or shell She gathers, tribute large, and on the board Heaps with unsparing hand; for drink the grape She crushes, inoffensive must, and meaths From many a berry, and from sweet kernels pressed She tempers dulcet creams, nor these to hold Wants her fit vessels pure, then strews the ground With rose and odours from the shrub unfum'd. Mean while our primitive great sire, to meet His god-like guest, walks forth, without more train Accompani'd than with his own complete Perfections, in himself was all his state, More solemn than the tedious pomp that waits On princes, when their rich retinue long Of horses led, and grooms besmear'd with gold Dazzles the crowd, and sets them all agape. Nearer his presence Adam though not aw'd, Yet with submiss approach and reverence meek, As to a superior Nature, bowing low,
Thus said. Native of Heav'n, for other place None can than Heav'n such glorious shape contain; Since by descending from the Thrones above, Those happy places thou hast deign'd a while To want, and honour these, vouchsafe with us Two only, who yet by sov'ran gift possess This spacious ground, in yonder shady bower To rest, and what the garden choicest bears To sit and taste, till this meridian heat Be over, and the sun more cool decline.
Whom thus the angelic virtue answer'd mild. Adam, I therefore came, nor art thou such Created, or such place hast here to dwell, As may not oft invite, though Spirits of Heav'n To visit thee; lead on then where thy bower O'ershades; for these mid-hours, till evening rise I have at will. So to the silvan lodge They came, that like Pomona's arbour smil'd With flow'rets deck'd and fragrant smells; but Eve Undeck'd, save with her self more lovely fair Than wood-nymph, or the fairest goddess feign'd Of three that in mount Ida naked strove, Stood to entertain her guest from Heav'n; no veil She needed, virtue-proof, no thought infirm Alter'd her cheek. On whom the angel Hail Bestowd, the holy salutation us'd Long after to blest Marie, second Eve.
Hail mother of mankind, whose fruitful womb Shall fill the world more numerous with thy Sons Than with these various fruits the trees of God Have heap'd this table. Rais'd of grassy turf Their table was, and mossy seats had round, And on her ample square from side to side All Autumn pil'd, though Spring and Autumn here Danc'd hand in hand. A while discourse they hold; No fear lest dinner cool; when thus began Our author. Heav'nly stranger, please to taste These bounties which our nourisher, from whom All perfect good unmeasur'd out, descends, To us for food and for delight hath caus'd The Earth to yield; unsavoury food perhaps To spiritual Natures; only this I know, That one celestial Father gives to all.
To whom the angel. Therefore what he gives (Whose praise be ever sung) to man in part Spiritual, may of purest Spirits be found No ingrateful food: and food alike those pure Intelligential substances require As doth your rational; and both contain Within them every lower faculty Of sense, whereby they hear, see, smell, touch, taste, Tasting concoct, digest, assimilate, And corporeal to incorporeal turn. For know, whatever was created, needs To be sustain'd and fed; of elements The grosser feeds the purer, Earth the sea, Earth and the sea feed air, the air those fires Ethereal, and as lowest first the moon; Whence in her visage round those spots, unpurg'd Vapours not yet into her substance turn'd. Nor doth the moon no nourishment exhale From her moist continent to higher orbs. The sun that light imparts to all, receives From all his alimental recompense In humid exhalations, and at even Sups with the ocean: though in Heav'n the trees Of life ambrosial fruitage bear, and vines Yield nectar, though from off the boughs each morn We brush mellifluous dews, and find the ground Cover'd with pearly grain: yet God hath here Varied his bounty so with new delights, As may compare with Heaven; and to taste Think not I shall be nice. So down they sat, And to their viands fell, nor seemingly The angel, nor in mist, the common gloss Of theologians, but with keen dispatch Of real hunger, and concoctive heate To transubstantiate; what redounds, transpires Through Spirits with ease; nor wonder; if by fire Of sooty coal the empiric alchemist Can turn, or holds it possible to turn Metals of drossiest ore to perfect gold As from the mine. Mean while at table Eve Minister'd naked, and their flowing cups With pleasant liquors crown'd: O innocence Deserving paradise: if ever, then, Then had the Sons of God excuse to have been Enamour'd at that sight, but in those hearts Love unlibidinous reign'd, nor jealousy Was understood, the injur'd lover's Hell.
Thus when with meats and drinks they had suffic'd, Not burd'nd Nature, sudden mind arose In Adam, not to let th' occasion pass Given him by this great conference to know Of things above his world, and of their being Who dwell in Heav'n, whose excellence he saw Transcend his own so far, whose radiant forms Divine effulgence, whose high power so far Exceeded human, and his wary speech Thus to th' empyreal minister he fram'd.
Inhabitant with God, now know I well Thy favour, in this honour done to man, Under whose lowly roof thou hast vouchsaf'd To enter, and these earthly fruits to taste, Food not of angels, yet accepted so, As that more willingly thou couldst not seem At Heav'n's high feasts to have fed: yet what compare?
To whom the winged hierarch repli'd. O Adam, one almighty is, from whom All things proceed, and up to him return, If not deprav'd from good, created all Such to perfection, one first matter all, Indu'd with various forms, various degrees Of substance, and in things that live, of life; But more refin'd, more spiritous, and pure, As nearer to him plac't or nearer tending Each in their several active spheres assign'd, Till body up to spirit work, in bounds Proportion'd to each kind. So from the root Springs lighter the green stalk, from thence the leaves More airy, last the bright consummate flower Spirits odorous breathes: flowers and their fruit Man's nourishment, by gradual scale sublim'd To vital Spirits aspire, to animal, To intellectual, give both life and sense, Fancy and understanding, whence the soul Reason receives, and reason is her being, Discursive, or intuitive; discourse Is oftest yours, the latter most is ours, Differing but in degree, of kind the same. Wonder not then, what God for you saw good If I refuse not, but convert, as you, To proper substance, time may come when men With angels may participate, and find No inconvenient diet, nor too light fare: And from these corporal nutriments perhaps Your bodies may at last turn all to Spirit, Improv'd by tract of time, and wing'd ascend Ethereal, as we, or may at choice Here or in heav'nly paradises dwell; If ye be found obedient, and retain Unalterably firm his love entire Whose progeny you are. Mean while enjoy Your fill what happiness this happy state Can comprehend, incapable of more.
To whom the patriarch of mankind repli'd, O favourable spirit, propitious guest, Well hast thou taught the way that might direct Our knowledge, and the scale of Nature set From centre to circumference, whereon In contemplation of created things By steps we may ascend to God. But say, What meant that caution joind, if ye be found Obedient? can we want obedience then To him, or possibly his love desert Who form'd us from the dust, and plac'd us here Full to the utmost measure of what bliss Human desires can seek or apprehend?
To whom the angel. Son of Heav'n and Earth, Attend: That thou art happy, owe to God; That thou continu'st such, owe to thy self, That is, to thy obedience; therein stand. This was that caution giv'n thee; be advis'd. God made thee perfect, not immutable; And good he made thee, but to persevere He left it in thy power, ordain'd thy will By nature free, not over-rul'd by fate Inextricable, or strict necessity; Our voluntary service he requires, Not our necessitated, such with him Finds no acceptance, nor can find, for how Can hearts, not free, be tri'd whether they serve Willing or no, who will but what they must By destiny, and can no other choose? My self and all th' angelic host that stand In sight of God enthron'd, our happy state Hold, as you yours, while our obedience holds; On other surety none; freely we serve, Because we freely love, as in our will To love or not; in this we stand or fall: And some are fall'n, to disobedience fall'n, And so from Heav'n to deepest Hell; o fall From what high state of bliss into what woe!
To whom our great progenitor. Thy words Attentive, and with more delighted ear, Divine instructor, I have heard, than when Cherubic songs by night from neighbouring hills Aerial music send: nor knew I not To be both will and deed created free; Yet that we never shall forget to love Our maker, and obey him whose command Single, is yet so just, my constant thoughts Assur'd me, and still assure: though what thou tellst Hath past in Heav'n, some doubt within me move, But more desire to hear, if thou consent, The full relation, which must needs be strange, Worthy of sacred silence to be heard; And we have yet large day, for scarce the sun Hath finished half his journey, and scarce begins His other half in the great zone of Heav'n.
Thus Adam made request, and Raphael After short pause assenting, thus began.
High matter thou enjoinst me, o prime of men, Sad task and hard, for how shall I relate To human sense th' invisible exploits Of warring Spirits; how without remorse The ruin of so many glorious once And perfect while they stood; how last unfold The secrets of another world, perhaps Not lawful to reveal? yet for thy good This is dispensed, and what surmounts the reach Of human sense, I shall delineate so, By lik'ning spiritual to corporal forms As may express them best, though what if Earth Be but the shadow of Heav'n, and things therein Each to other like, more than on earth is thought?
As yet this world was not, and Chaos wild Reign'd where these Heav'ns now roll, where Earth now rests Upon her centre pois'd, when on a day (For time, though in eternity, appli'd To motion, measures all things durable By present, past, and future) on such day As Heav'n's great year brings forth, th' empyreal host Of angels by imperial summons call'd, Innumerable before th' Almighty's throne Forthwith from all the ends of Heav'n appear'd Under their hierarchs in orders bright Ten thousand thousand ensigns high advanc'd, Standards, and gonfalons twixt van and rear Stream in the air, and for distinction serve Of hierarchies, of orders, and degrees; Or in their glittering tissues bear emblaz'd Holy memorials, acts of zeal and love Recorded eminent. Thus when in orbs Of circuit inexpressible they stood, Orb within orb, the Father infinite, By whom in bliss embosom'd sat the Son, Amidst as from a flaming mount, whose top Brightness had made invisible, thus spake.
Hear all ye angels, progeny of light, Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, virtues, Powers, Hear my decree, which unrevok't shall stand. This day I have begot whom I declare My only Son, and on this holy hill Him have anointed, whom ye now behold At my right hand; your head I him appoint; And by my self have sworn to him shall bow All knees in Heav'n, and shall confess him lord: Under his great vice-gerent reign abide United as one individual soul For ever happy: him who disobeys Me disobeys, breaks union, and that day Cast out from God and blessed vision, falls Into utter darkness, deep engulfed, his place Ordain'd without redemption, without end.
So spake th' omnipotent, and with his words All seem'd well pleas'd, all seem'd, but were not all That day, as other solemn days, they spent In song and dance about the sacred hill, Mystical dance, which yonder starry sphere Of planets and of fixed in all her wheels Resembles nearest, mazes intricate, Eccentric, intervolv'd, yet regular Then most, when most irregular they seem, And in their motions harmonic divine So smooths her charming tones, that God's own ear Listens delighted. Evening now approach'd (For we have also our evening and our morn, We ours for change delectable, not need) Forthwith from dance to sweet repast they turn Desirous; all in circles as they stood, Tables are set, and on a sudden pil'd With angels' food, and rubied nectar flows In pearl, in diamond, and massy gold, Fruit of delicious vines, the growth of Heav'n. On flowers repos'd, and with fresh flow'rets crown'd. They eat, they drink, and in communion sweet Quaff immortality and joy, secure Of surfeit where full measure only bounds Excess, before th' all bounteous king, who shower'd With copious hand, rejoycing in their joy. Now when ambrosial night with clouds exhal'd From that high mount of God, whence light & shade Spring both, the face of brightest Heav'n had chang'd To grateful twilight (for night comes not there In darker veil) and roseate dews dispos'd All but the unsleeping eyes of God to rest, Wide over all the plain, and wider far Than all this globous Earth in plain out spread, (Such are the courts of God) th' angelic throng Dispersed in bands and files their camp extend By living streams among the trees of life, Pavilions numberless, and sudden rear'd, Celestial tabernacles, where they slept, Fann'd with cool winds, save those who in their course Melodious hymns about the sovereign throne Alternate all night long: but not so wak'd Satan, so call him now, his former name Is heard no more in Heav'n; he of the first, If not the first arch-angel, great in power, In favour and preeminence, yet fraught With envy against the Son of God, that day Honour'd by his great Father, and proclaim'd Messiah king anointed, could not bear Through pride that sight, & thought himself impair'd. Deep malice thence conceiving and disdain, Soon as midnight brought on the dusky hour Friendliest to sleep and silence, he resolv'd With all his legions to dislodge, and leave Unworshipped, unobey'd the throne supreme Contemptuous, and his next subordinate Awak'ning, thus to him in secret spake.
Sleepst thou companion dear, what sleep can close Thy eye lids? and remembrest what decree Of yesterday, so late hath past the lips Of Heav'n's almighty. Thou to me thy thoughts Wast wont, I mine to thee was wont to impart; Both waking we were one; how then can now Thy sleep dissent? new laws thou seest impos'd; New laws from him who reigns, new minds may raise In us who serve, new counsels, to debate What doubtful may ensue, more in this place To utter is not safe. Assemble thou Of all those myriads which we lead the chief; Tell them that by command, ere yet dim night Her shadowy cloud withdraws, I am to haste, And all who under me their banners wave, Homeward with flying march where we possess The quarters of the north, there to prepare Fit entertainment to receive our king The great Messiah, and his new commands, Who speedily through all the hierarchies Intends to pass triumphant, and give laws.
So spake the false arch-angel, and infus'd Bad influence into th' unwary breast Of his associate; he together calls, Or several one by one, the regent Powers, Under him regent, tells, as he was taught, That the most high commanding, now ere night, Now ere dim night had disencumber'd Heav'n, The great hierarchal standard was to move; Tells the suggested cause, and casts between Ambiguous words and jealousies, to sound Or taint integrity; but all obey'd The wonted signal, and superior voice Of their great potentate; for great indeed His name, and high was his degree in Heav'n; His count'nance, as the morning star that guides The starry flock, allur'd them, and with lies Drew after him the third part of Heav'n's host: Mean while th' eternal eye, whose sight discerns Abstrusest thoughts, from forth his holy mount And from within the golden lamps that burn Nightly before him, saw without their light Rebellion rising, saw in whom, how spread Among the sons of morn, what multitudes Were banded to oppose his high decree; And smiling to his only Son thus said.
Son, thou in whom my glory I behold In full resplendence, heir of all my might, Nearly it now concerns us to be sure Of our omnipotence, and with what arms We mean to hold what anciently we claim Of deity or empire, such a foe Is rising, who intends to erect his throne Equal to ours, throughout the spacious north; Nor so content, hath in his thought to try In battle, what our power is, or our right. Let us advise, and to this hazard draw With speed what force is left, and all employ In our defence, lest unawares we lose This our high place, our sanctuary, our hill.
To whom the Son with calm aspect and clear Light'ning divine, ineffable, serene, Made answer. Mighty Father, thou thy foes Justly hast in derision, and secure Laugh'st at their vain designs and tumults vain, Matter to me of glory, whom their hate Illustrates, when they see all regal power Giv'n me to quell their pride, and in event Know whether I be dextrous to subdue Thy rebels, or be found the worst in Heav'n.
So spake the Son, but Satan with his Powers Far was advanc't on winged speed, an host Innumerable as the stars of night, Or stars of morning, dew-drops, which the sun Impearls on every leaf and every flower. Regions they pass'd, the mighty regencies Of seraphim and potentates and Thrones In their triple degrees, regions to which All thy dominion, Adam, is no more Than what this garden is to all the Earth, And all the sea, from one entire globose stretched into longitude; which having pass'd At length into the limits of the north They came, and Satan to his royal seat High on a hill, far blazing, as a mount Rais'd on a mount, with pyramids and tow'rs From diamond quarries hew'n, and rocks of gold▪ The palace of great Lucifer, (so call That structure in the dialect of men Interpreted) which not long after, he Affecting all equality with God, In imitation of that mount whereon Messiah was declar'd in sight of Heav'n, The mountain of the congregation call'd; For thither he assembl'd all his train, Pretending so commanded to consult About the great reception of their king, Thither to come, and with calumnious art Of counterfeited truth thus held their ears.
Thrones, Dominations, princedoms, Virtues, Powers If these magnific titles yet remain Not meerly titular, since by decree Another now hath to himself engross'd All power, and us eclipsed under the name Of king anointed, for whom all this haste Of midnight march, and hurried meeting here, This only to consult how we may best With what may be devis'd of honours new Receive him coming to receive from us Knee-tribute yet unpaid, prostration vile, Too much to one, but double how endur'd To one and to his image now proclaim'd? But what if better counsels might erect Our minds and teach us to cast off this yoke? Will ye submit your necks, and choose to bend The supple knee? ye will not, if I trust To know ye right, or if ye know your selves Natives and Sons of Heav'n possessed before By none, and if not equal all, yet free, Equally free; for orders and degrees Jar not with liberty, but well consist. Who can in reason then or right assume Monarchy over such as live by right His equals, if in power and splendour less, In freedom equal? or can introduce Law and edict on us, who without law Err not, much less for this to be our lord, And look for adoration to th' abuse Of those imperial titles which assert Our being ordain'd to govern, not to serve?
Thus far his bold discourse without control Had audience, when among the seraphim Abdiel, than whom none with more zeal ador'd The deity, and divine commands obey'd, Stood up, and in a flame of zeal severe The current of his fury thus oppos'd.
O argument blasphemous, false and proud! Words which no ear ever to hear in Heav'n Expected, least of all from thee, ingrate In place thy self so high above thy peers. Canst thou with impious obloquy condemn The just decree of God, pronounc't and sworn, That to his only Son by right endu'd With regal sceptre, every soul in Heav'n Shall bend the knee, and in that honour due Confess him rightful king? unjust thou saist Flatly unjust, to bind with laws the free, And equal over equals to let reign, One over all with unsucceeded power. Shalt thou give law to God, shalt thou dispute With him the points of liberty, who made Thee what thou art, and form'd the pow'rs of Heav'n Such as he pleas'd, and circumscrib'd their being? Yet by experience taught we know how good, And of our good, and of our dignity How provident he is, how far from thought To make us less, bent rather to exalt Our happy state under one head more near United. But to grant it thee unjust, That equal over equals monarch reign: Thy self though great and glorious dost thou count, Or all angelic Nature join'd in one, Equal to him begotten Son, by whom As by his word the mighty Father made All things, ev'n thee, and all the Spirits of Heav'n By him created in their bright degrees, Crown'd them with glory, and to their glory nam'd Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, virtues, Powers, Essential Powers, nor by his reign obscur'd, But more illustrious made, since he the head One of our number thus reduc'd becomes, His laws our laws; all honour to him done Returns our own. Cease then this impious rage, And tempt not these; but hasten to appease Th' incensed Father, and th' incensed Son, While pardon may be found in time besought.
So spake the fervent angel, but his zeal None seconded, as out of season judg'd, Or singular and rash, whereat rejoic'd Th' apostate, and more haughty thus repli'd. That we were form'd then saist thou? and the work Of secondary hands, by task transferr'd From Father to his Son? strange point and new! Doctrine which we would know whence learnt: who saw When this creation was? rememberst thou Thy making, while the maker gave thee being? We know no time when we were not as now; Know none before us, self-begot, self-rais'd By our own quick'ning power, when fatal course Had circl'd his full orb, the birth mature Of this our native Heav'n, ethereal Sons. Our puissance is our own, our own right hand Shall teach us highest deeds, by proof to try Who is our equal: then thou shalt behold Whether by supplication we intend Address, and to begirt th' almighty throne Beseeching or besieging. This report, These tidings carry to th' anointed king; And fly, ere evil intercept thy flight.
He said, and as the sound of waters deep Hoarse murmur echo'd to his words applause Through the infinite host, nor less for that The flaming seraph fearless, though alone Encompass'd round with foes, thus answer'd bold.
O alienate from God, o spirit accurst, Forsak'n of all good; I see thy fall Determin'd, and thy hapless crew involv'd In this perfidious fraud, contagion spread Both of thy crime and punishment: henceforth No more be troubl'd how to quit the yoke Of God's Messiah; those indulgent laws Will not be now vouchsaf'd, other decrees Against thee are gone forth without recall; That golden sceptre which thou didst reject Is now an iron rod to bruise and break Thy disobedience. Well thou didst advise, Yet not for thy advise or threats I fly These wicked tents devoted, lest the wrath Impendent, raging into sudden flame Distinguish not: for soon expect to feel His thunder on thy head, devouring fire. Then who created thee lamenting learn, When who can uncreate thee thou shalt know.
So spake the seraph Abdiel faithful found, Among the faithless, faithful only he; Among innumerable false, unmov'd, Unshak'n, unseduc'd, unterrifi'd His loyalty he kept, his love, his zeal; Nor number, nor example with him wrought To swerve from truth, or change his constant mind Though single. From amidst them forth he pass'd, Long way through hostile scorn, which he sustain'd Superior, nor of violence fear'd aught; And with retorted scorn his back he turn'd On those proud tow'rs to swift destruction doom'd.