Search

The Poetical Works of John Milton, by John Milton

Published on 2026-07-30 01:54:21 Source: best kids keyboards for 8 year olds



THE POETICAL WORKS OF JOHN MILTON


By John Milton






Transcriber's Notes:

This e-text contains all of Milton's poems in English andItalian. Poems in Latin have animal toys for 3 year olds under 30 dollarsbeen omitted.

The original spelling, capitalisation and punctuation havebeen retained as far as possible. Characters not in the ANSIstandard set have been replaced by their nearest equivalent. TheAE & OE digraphs have been transcribed as two letters.Accented letters in the Italian poems have been replaced by theunaccented letter.

No italics have been retained.

Footnotes have been moved to the end of the poem to which theyrefer; in Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained they have beenmoved to the end of the book.


Fifty engravings by Gustave Dorehave been provided in "Paradise Lost"






CONTENTS


PREFACE by the Rev. H. C.Beeching, M. A.

THE STATIONER TO THEREADER.


MISCELLANEOUSPOEMS.

ON THE MORNING OF CHRISTSNATIVITY.

THE PASSION.

ON TIME.

UPON THECIRCUMCISION.

AT A SOLEMNMUSICK.

AN EPITAPH ON THEMARCHIONESS OF WINCHESTER.

SONG ON MAYMORNING.

ON SHAKESPEAR.1630.

ON THE UNIVERSITYCARRIER.

ANOTHER ON THESAME.

L'ALLEGRO.

IL PENSEROSO.

SONNETS.

ARCADES.

LYCIDAS.

A MASK PRESENTED AtLUDLOW-Castle, 1634. &c.

POEMS ADDED IN THE 1673EDITION.

ANNO AETATIS 17. ON THEDEATH OF A FAIR INFANT DYING OF A COUGH.

ANNO AETATIS 19. AT AVACATION EXERCISE IN THE COLLEDGE

THE FIFTH ODE OF HORACE.LIB. I.

SONNETS.

ON THE NEW FORCERS OFCONSCIENCE UNDER THE LONG PARLIAMENT.

ON THE LORD GEN. FAIRFAXAT THE SEIGE OF COLCHESTER.

TO THE LORD GENERALLCROMWELL MAY 1652.

TO SR HENRY VANE THEYOUNGER.

TO MR. CYRIACK SKINNERUPON HIS BLINDNESS.

PSAL. I. Done into Verse,1653.

PSAL. II Done Aug. 8.1653. Terzetti.

PSAL. III. Aug. 9.1653

PSAL. IV. Aug.10.1653.

PSAL. V. Aug.12.1653.

PSAL. VI Aug. 13.1653.

PSAL. VII. Aug. 14.1653.

PSAL. VIII. Aug. 14.1653.

APRIL, 1648. J. M. NINEOF THE PSALMS DONE INTO METRE,

PSAL. LXXX.

PSAL. LXXXI.

PSAL. LXXXII.

PSAL. LXXXIII.

PSAL. LXXXIV.

PSAL LXXXV.

PSAL. LXXXVI.

PSAL. LXXXVII

PSAL. LXXXVIII


COLLECTION OF PASSAGESTRANSLATED IN THE PROSE WRITINGS.

[From Of Reformation inEngland, 1641.]

[From Reason of ChurchGovernment, 1641.]

[From Apology forSmectymnuus, 1642.]

[From Areopagitica,1644.]

[From Tetrachordon,1645.]

[From The Tenure of Kingsand Magistrates, 1649.]

[From History of Britain,1670.]


PARADISELOST.

ON Paradise Lost.

THE VERSE.

BOOK I.

BOOK II.

BOOK III.

BOOK IV.

BOOK V.

BOOK VI.

BOOK VII.

BOOK VIII.

BOOK IX.

BOOK X.

BOOK XI.

BOOK XII.


PARADISEREGAIN'D.

The First Book.

The Second Book.

The Third Book.

The Fourth Book.


SAMSONAGONISTES

Of that sort of DramaticPoem which is call'd Tragedy.

The Argument.

APPENDIX.

ON TIME










PREFACE by the Rev. H. C. Beeching, M. A.

This edition of Milton's Poetry is a reprint, as careful asEditor and Printers have been able to make it, from the earliestprinted copies of the several poems. First the 1645 volume of theMinor Poems has been printed entire; then follow in order thepoems added in the reissue of 1673; the Paradise Lost, from theedition of 1667; and the Paradise Regain'd and Samson Agonistesfrom the edition of 1671.

The most interesting portion of the book must be reckoned thefirst section of it, which reproduces for the first time thescarce small octavo of 1645. The only reprint of the Minor Poemsin the old spelling, so far as I know, is the one edited byMitford, but that followed the edition of 1673, which iscomparatively uninteresting since it could not have had Milton'soversight as it passed through the press. We know that it was setup from a copy of the 1645 edition, because it reproduces somepointless eccentricities such as the varying form of the chorusto Psalm cxxxvi; but while it corrects the errata tabulated inthat edition it commits many more blunders of its own. It isvaluable, however, as the editio princeps of ten of the sonnetsand it contains one important alteration in the Ode on theNativity. This and all other alterations will be found notedwhere they occur. I have not thought it necessary to note meredifferences of spelling between the two editions but a word mayfind place here upon their general character. Generally it may besaid that, where the two editions differ, the later spelling isthat now in use. Thus words like goddess, darkness, usuallywritten in the first edition with one final s, have two, while onthe other hand words like vernall, youthfull, and monosyllableslike hugg, farr, lose their double letter. Many monosyllables,e.g. som, cours, glimps, wher, vers, aw, els, don, ey, ly, sowritten in 1645, take on in 1673 an e mute, while words likeharpe, windes, onely, lose it. By a reciprocal change ayr andcipress become air and cypress; and the vowels in daign, vail,neer, beleeve, sheild, boosom, eeven, battail, travailer, andmany other words are similarly modernized. On the other handthere are a few cases where the 1645 edition exhibits thespelling which has succeeded in fixing itself, as travail (1673,travel) in the sense of labour; and rob'd, profane, human, floodand bloody, forest, triple, alas, huddling, are found where the1673 edition has roab'd, prophane, humane, floud and bloudy,forrest, tripple, alass and hudling. Indeed the spelling in thislater edition is not untouched by seventeenth centuryinconsistency. It retains here and there forms like shameles,cateres, (where 1645 reads cateress), and occasionally reverts tothe older-fashioned spelling of monosyllables without the mute e.In the Epitaph on the Marchioness of Winchester, it reads—'And som flowers and some bays.' But undoubtedly the impression onthe whole is of a much more modern text.

In the matter of small or capital letters I have followed theold copy, except in one or two places where a personificationseemed not plainly enough marked to a modern reader without acapital. Thus in Il Penseroso, l. 49, I print Leasure, althoughboth editions read leasure; and in the Vacation Exercise, l. 71,Times for times. Also where the employment or omission of acapital is plainly due to misprinting, as too frequently in the1673 edition, I silently make the correction. Examples are, notesfor Notes in Sonnet xvii. l. 13; Anointed for anointed in Psalmii. l.12.

In regard to punctuation I have followed the old printersexcept in obvious misprints, and followed them also, as far aspossible, in their distribution of roman and italic type and inthe grouping of words and lines in the various titles. To followthem exactly was impossible, as the books are so very differentin size.

At this point the candid reader may perhaps ask what advantageis gained by presenting these poems to modern readers in thedress of a bygone age. If the question were put to me I shouldprobably evade it by pointing out that Mr. Frowde is issuing anedition based upon this, in which the spelling is frankly that ofto-day. But if the question were pressed, I think a sufficientanswer might be found. To begin with, I should point out thateven Prof. Masson, who in his excellent edition argues the pointand decides in favour of modern spelling, allows that there arepeculiarities of Milton's spelling which are really significant,and ought therefore to be noted or preserved. But who is todetermine exactly which words are spelt according to the poet'sown instructions, and which according to the printer's whim? Itis notorious that in Paradise Lost some words were spelt upon adeliberate system, and it may very well happen that in the volumeof minor poems which the poet saw through the press in 1645,there were spellings no less systematic. Prof. Masson makes agreat point of the fact that Milton's own spelling, exhibited inthe autograph manuscript of some of the minor poems preserved inTrinity College, Cambridge, does not correspond with that of theprinted copy. [Note: This manuscript, invaluable to all studentsof Milton, has lately been facsimiled under the superintendenceof Dr. Aldis Wright, and published at the Cambridge Universitypress]. This is certainly true, as the reader may see for himselfby comparing the passage from the manuscript given in theappendix with the corresponding place in the text. Milton's ownspelling revels in redundant e's, while the printer of the 1645book is very sparing of them. But in cases where the spellingaffects the metre, we find that the printed text and Milton'smanuscript closely correspond; and it is upon its value indetermining the metre, quite as much as its antiquarian interest,that I should base a justification of this reprint. Take, forinstance, such a line as the eleventh of Comus, which Prof.Masson gives as:—

Amongst the enthroned gods on sainted seats.

A reader not learned in Miltonic rhythms will certainly readthis

Amongst th' enthroned gods

But the 1645 edition reads:

Amongst the enthron'd gods

and so does Milton's manuscript. Again, in line 597, Prof.Masson reads:

It shall be in eternal restless change        Self-fed and self-consumed.  If this fail,        The pillared firmament is rottenness,  &c.

But the 1645 text and Milton's manuscript read self-consum'd;after which word there is to be understood a metrical pause tomark the violent transition of the thought.

Again in the second line of the Sonnet to a Nightingale Prof.Masson has:

Warblest at eve when all the woods are still

but the early edition, which probably follows Milton'sspelling though in this case we have no manuscript to compare,reads 'Warbl'st.' So the original text of Samson, l. 670, has'temper'st.'

The retention of the old system of punctuation may be lessdefensible, but I have retained it because it may now and then beof use in determining a point of syntax. The absence of a comma,for example, after the word hearse in the 58th line of theEpitaph on the Marchioness of Winchester, printed by Prof. Massonthus:—

And some flowers, and some bays        For thy hearse to strew thy ways,

but in the 1645 edition:—

And som Flowers, and som Bays,        For thy Hears to strew the ways,

goes to prove that for here must be taken as 'fore.

Of the Paradise Lost there were two editions issued duringMilton's lifetime, and while the first has been taken as ourtext, all the variants in the second, not being simple misprints,have been recorded in the notes. In one respect, however, in thedistribution of the poem into twelve books instead of ten, it hasseemed best, for the sake of practical convenience, to follow thesecond edition. A word may be allowed here on the famouscorrection among the Errata prefixed to the first edition: 'Lib.2. v. 414, for we read wee.' This correction shows not only thatMilton had theories about spelling, but also that he found means,though his sight was gone, to ascertain whether his rules hadbeen carried out by his printer; and in itself this factjustifies a facsimile reprint. What the principle in the use ofthe double vowel exactly was (and it is found to affect the othermonosyllabic pronouns) it is not so easy to discover, thoughroughly it is clear the reduplication was intended to markemphasis. For example, in the speech of the Divine Son after thebattle in heaven (vi. 810-817) the pronouns which the voice wouldnaturally emphasize are spelt with the double vowel:

Stand onely and behold        Gods indignation on these Godless pourd        By mee; not you but mee they have despis'd,        Yet envied; against mee is all thir rage,        Because the Father, t'whom in Heav'n supream        Kingdom and Power and Glorie appertains,        Hath honourd me according to his will.        Therefore to mee thir doom he hath assign'd.

In the Son's speech offering himself as Redeemer (iii.227-249) where the pronoun all through is markedly emphasized, itis printed mee the first four times, and afterwards me; but it isnoticeable that these first four times the emphatic word does notstand in the stressed place of the verse, so that a carelessreader might not emphasize it, unless his attention werespecially led by some such sign:

Behold mee then, mee for him, life for life        I offer, on mee let thine anger fall;        Account mee man.

In the Hymn of Creation (v.160-209) where ye occurs fourteentimes, the emphasis and the metric stress six times out of sevencoincide, and the pronoun is spelt yee; where it is unemphatic,and in an unstressed place, it is spelt ye. Two lines areespecially instructive:

Speak yee who best can tell, ye Sons of light (l. 160);

and

Fountains and yee, that warble, as ye flow,        Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise (l. 195).

In v. 694 it marks, as the voice by its emphasis would mark inreading, a change of subject:

So spake the false Arch-Angel, and infus'd        Bad influence into th' unwarie brest        Of his Associate; hee (i. e. the associate) together calls,&c.

An examination of other passages, where there is noantithesis, goes to show that the lengthened form of the pronounis most frequent before a pause (as vii. 95); or at the end of aline (i. 245, 257); or when a foot is inverted (v. 133); or whenas object it precedes its verb (v. 612; vii. 747), or as subjectfollows it (ix. 1109; x. 4). But as we might expect undercircumstances where a purist could not correct his own proofs,there are not a few inconsistencies. There does not seem, forexample, any special emphasis in the second wee of the followingpassage:

Freely we serve.        Because wee freely love, as in our will        To love or not; in this we stand or fall  (v. 538).

On the other hand, in the passage (iii. 41) in which the poetspeaks of his own blindness:

Thus with the Year        Seasons return, but not to me returns        Day, &c.

where, if anywhere, we should expect mee, we do not find it,though it occurs in the speech eight lines below. It should beadded that this differentiation of the pronouns is not found inany printed poem of Milton's before Paradise Lost, nor is itfound in the Cambridge autograph. In that manuscript the constantforms are me, wee, yee. There is one place where there is adifference in the spelling of she, and it is just possible thatthis may not be due to accident. In the first verse of the songin Arcades, the MS. reads:

This, this is shee;

and in the third verse:

This, this is she alone.

This use of the double vowel is found a few times in ParadiseRegain'd: in ii. 259 and iv. 486, 497 where mee begins a line,and in iv. 638 where hee is specially emphatic in the concludinglines of the poem. In Samson Agonistes it is more frequent (e.g.lines 124, 178, 193, 220, 252, 290, 1125). Another word thespelling of which in Paradise Lost will be observed to vary isthe pronoun their, which is spelt sometimes thir. The spelling inthe Cambridge manuscript is uniformly thire, except once when itis thir; and where their once occurs in the writing of anamanuensis the e is struck through. That the difference is notmerely a printer's device to accommodate his line may be seen bya comparison of lines 358 and 363 in the First Book, where theshorter word comes in the shorter line. It is probable that thelighter form of the word was intended to be used when it wasquite unemphatic. Contrast, for example, in Book iii. l.59: Hisown works and their works at once to view with line 113: Thirmaker and thir making and thir Fate. But the use is notconsistent, and the form thir is not found at all till the 349thline of the First Book. The distinction is kept up in theParadise Regain'd and Samson Agonistes, but, if possible, witheven less consistency. Such passages, however, as ParadiseRegain'd, iii. 414-440; Samson Agonistes, 880-890, are certainlyspelt upon a method, and it is noticeable that in the chorusesthe lighter form is universal.

Paradise Regain'd and Samson Agonistes were published in 1671,and no further edition was called for in the remaining threeyears of the poet's lifetime, so that in the case of these poemsthere are no new readings to record; and the texts were socarefully revised, that only one fault (Paradise Regain'd, ii.309) was left for correction later. In these and the other poemsI have corrected the misprints catalogued in the tables ofErrata, and I have silently corrected any other unless it mightbe mistaken for a various reading, when I have called attentionto it in a note. Thus I have not recorded such blunders asLethian for Lesbian in the 1645 text of Lycidas, line 63; orhallow for hollow in Paradise Lost, vi. 484; but I have notedcontent for concent, in At a Solemn Musick, line 6.

In conclusion I have to offer my sincere thanks to all whohave collaborated with me in preparing this Edition; to theDelegates of the Oxford Press for allowing me to undertake it anddecorate it with so many facsimiles; to the Controller of thePress for his unfailing courtesy; to the printers and printer'sreader for their care and pains. Coming nearer home I cannot butacknowledge the help I have received in looking over proof-sheetsfrom my sister, Mrs. P. A. Barnett, who has ungrudgingly put atthe service of this book both time and eyesight. In taking leaveof it, I may be permitted to say that it has cost more of boththese inestimable treasures than I had anticipated. The lastproof reaches me just a year after the first, and the progress ofthe work has not in the interval been interrupted. In tenui laboret tenuis gloria. Nevertheless I cannot be sorry it wasundertaken.

H. C. B.

YATTENDON RECTORY, November 8, 1899.

Transcriber's note: Facsimile of Title page of 1645 editionfollows:

POEMS                            OF                      Mr John Milton,                           BOTH                     ENGLISH and LATIN                  Compos'd at several times.               ———————————————                Printed by his true copies.               ———————————————               The SONGS were set in Musick by                Mr. HENRY LAWES Gentleman of                 the KINGS Chappel, and one                      of His MAIESTIES                       Private Musick.                 ————Baccare frontem         Cingite, ne vace noceat mala lingua futuro,              Virgil, Eclog. 7.         ————————————————————-            Printed, and Publish'd according to                           ORDER.         ————————————————————-                          LONDON,        Printed by Ruth Raworth for Humphrey Moseley,        and are to be sold at the signe of the Princes            Arms in S. Pauls Church-yard. 1645.

Transcriber's note: Facsimile of Title page of 1673 editionfollows:

POEMS, &c.                            UPON                      Several Occasions.                  —————————————                             BY                       Mr. John Milton:                  —————————————                  Both ENGLISH and LATIN &c.                  Composed at several times.                  —————————————                   With a small tractate of                         EDUCATION                       To Mr. HARTLIB                  —————————————                  —————————————                          LONDON.         Printed for Tho. Dring at the Blew Anchor           next Mitre Court over against Fetter               Lane in Fleet-street.  1673.





THE STATIONER TO THE READER.

It is not any Private respect of gain, Gentle Reader, for theslightest Pamphlet is now adayes more vendible then the Works oflearnedest men; but it is the love I have to our own Languagethat hath made me diligent to collect, and set forth such Peecesin Prose and Vers as may renew the wonted honour and esteem ofour tongue: and it's the worth of these both English and Latinpoems, not the flourish of any prefixed encomions that can invitethee to buy them, though these are not without the highestCommendations and Applause of the learnedst Academicks, bothdomestic and forrein: And amongst those of our own Countrey, theunparalleled attestation of that renowned Provost of Eaton, SirHenry Wootton: I know not thy palat how it relishes suchdainties, nor how harmonious thy soul is; perhaps more trivialAirs may please thee better. But howsoever thy opinion is spentupon these, that incouragement I have already received from themost ingenious men in their clear and courteous entertainment ofMr. Wallers late choice Peeces, hath once more made me adventureinto the World, presenting it with these ever-green, and not tobe blasted Laurels. The Authors more peculiar excellency in thesestudies, was too well known to conceal his Papers, or to keep mefrom attempting to sollicit them from him. Let the event guide itself which way it will, I shall deserve of the age, by bringinginto the Light as true a Birth, as the Muses have brought forthsince our famous Spencer wrote; whose Poems in these English onesare as rarely imitated, as sweetly excell'd. Reader, if thou artEagle-eied to censure their worth, I am not fearful to exposethem to thy exactest perusal.

Thine to Command

HUMPH. MOSELEY.





MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

ON THE MORNING OF CHRISTS NATIVITY.  Compos'd 1629.  I  This is the Month, and this the happy morn  Wherin the Son of Heav'ns eternal King,  Of wedded Maid, and Virgin Mother born,  Our great redemption from above did bring;  For so the holy sages once did sing,  That he our deadly forfeit should release,  And with his Father work us a perpetual peace.  II  That glorious Form, that Light unsufferable,  And that far-beaming blaze of Majesty,  Wherwith he wont at Heav'ns high Councel-Table,                      10  To sit the midst of Trinal Unity,  He laid aside; and here with us to be,  Forsook the Courts of everlasting Day,  And chose with us a darksom House of mortal Clay.  III  Say Heav'nly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein  Afford a present to the Infant God?  Hast thou no vers, no hymn, or solemn strein,  To welcom him to this his new abode,  Now while the Heav'n by the Suns team untrod,  Hath took no print of the approching light,                          20  And all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons bright?  IV  See how from far upon the Eastern rode  The Star-led Wisards haste with odours sweet,  O run,  prevent them with thy humble ode,  And lay it lowly at his blessed feet;  Have thou the honour first, thy Lord to greet,  And joyn thy voice unto the Angel Quire,  From out his secret Altar toucht with hallow'd fire.
The Hymn.  I  IT was the Winter wilde,  While the Heav'n-born-childe,                                        30  All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies;  Nature in aw to him  Had doff't her gawdy trim,  With her great Master so to sympathize:  It was no season then for her  To wanton with the Sun her lusty Paramour.  II  Only with speeches fair  She woo'd the gentle Air  To hide her guilty front with innocent Snow,  And on her naked shame,                                              40  Pollute with sinfull blame,  The Saintly Vail of Maiden white to throw,  Confounded, that her Makers eyes  Should look so near upon her foul deformities.  III  But he her fears to cease,  Sent down the meek-eyd Peace,  She crown'd with Olive green, came softly sliding  Down through the turning sphear  His ready Harbinger,  With Turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing,                        50  And waving wide her mirtle wand,  She strikes a universall Peace through Sea and Land.  IV  No War, or Battails sound  Was heard the World around,  The idle spear and shield were high up hung;  The hooked Chariot stood  Unstain'd with hostile blood,  The Trumpet spake not to the armed throng,  And Kings sate still with awfull eye,  As if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by.                     60  V  But peacefull was the night  Wherin the Prince of light  His raign of peace upon the earth began:  The Windes with wonder whist,  Smoothly the waters kist,  Whispering new joyes to the milde Ocean,  Who now hath quite forgot to rave,  While Birds of Calm sit brooding on the charmed wave.  VI  The Stars with deep amaze  Stand fit in steadfast gaze,                                         70  Bending one way their pretious influence,  And will not take their flight,  For all the morning light,  Or Lucifer that often warned them thence;  But in their glimmering Orbs did glow,  Until their Lord himself bespake, and bid them go.  VII  And though the shady gloom  Had given day her room,  The Sun himself with-held his wonted speed,  And hid his head for shame,                                          80  As his inferior flame,  The new enlightened world no more should need;  He saw a greater Sun appear  Then his bright Throne, or burning Axletree could bear.  VIII  The Shepherds on the Lawn,  Or ere the point of dawn,  Sate simply chatting in a rustic row;  Full little thought they than,  That the mighty Pan  Was kindly com to live with them below;                              90  Perhaps their loves, or els their sheep,  Was all that did their silly thoughts so busie keep.  IX  When such Musick sweet  Their hearts and ears did greet,  As never was by mortal finger strook,  Divinely-warbled voice  Answering the stringed noise,  As all their souls in blisfull rapture took:  The Air such pleasure loth to lose,  With  thousand echo's still prolongs each heav'nly close.           100  X  Nature that heard such  sound  Beneath  the hollow round  of Cynthia's seat the Airy region thrilling,  Now was almost won  To think her part was don  And that her raign had here its last fulfilling;  She knew such harmony alone  Could hold all Heav'n and Earth in happier union.  XI  At last surrounds their sight  A globe of circular light,                                          110  That with long beams the shame faced night arrayed  The helmed Cherubim  And sworded Seraphim,  Are seen in glittering ranks with wings displaid,  Harping in loud and solemn quire,  With unexpressive notes to Heav'ns new-born Heir.  XII  Such Musick (as 'tis said)  Before was never made,  But when of old the sons of morning sung,  While the Creator Great  His constellations set,                                             120  And the well-ballanc't world on hinges hung,  And cast the dark foundations deep,  And bid the weltring waves their oozy channel keep.  XIII  Ring out ye Crystall sphears,  Once bless our human ears,  (If ye have power to touch our senses so)  And let your silver chime  Move in melodious time;  And let the Base of Heav'ns deep Organ blow,                        130  And with your ninefold harmony  Make up full consort to th'Angelike symphony.  XIV  For if such holy Song  Enwrap our fancy long,  Time will run back, and fetch the age of gold,  And speckl'd vanity  Will sicken soon and die,  And leprous sin will melt from earthly mould,  And Hell it self will pass away  And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering day.                 140  XV  Yea Truth, and Justice then  Will down return to men,  Th'enameld Arras of the Rain-bow wearing,  And Mercy set between  Thron'd in Celestiall sheen,  With radiant feet the tissued clouds down stearing,  And Heav'n as at som festivall,  Will open wide the gates of her high Palace Hall.  XVI  But wisest Fate sayes  no,  This must not yet be so,                                            150  The Babe lies yet in smiling Infancy,  That on the bitter cross  Must redeem our loss;  So both himself and us to glorifie:  Yet first to those ychain'd in sleep,  The Wakeful trump of doom must thunder through the deep,  XVII  With such a horrid clang  As on Mount Sinai rang  While the red fire, and smouldring clouds out brake:  The aged Earth agast                                                160  With terrour of that blast,  Shall from the surface to the center shake;  When at the worlds last session,  The dreadfull Judge in middle Air shall spread his throne.  XVIII  And then at last  our bliss  Full and perfect is,  But now begins; for from this happy day  Th'old Dragon under ground  In straiter limits bound,  Not half so far casts his usurped sway,                             170  And wrath to see his Kingdom fail,  Swindges the scaly Horrour of his foulded tail.  XIX  The Oracles are dumm,  No voice or hideous humm  Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving.  Apollo from his shrine  Can no more divine,  With hollow shreik the steep of Delphos leaving.  No nightly trance, or breathed spell,  Inspire's the pale-ey'd Priest from the prophetic cell.             180  XX  The lonely mountains o're,  And the resounding shore,  A voice of weeping heard, and loud lament;  From haunted spring, and dale  Edg'd with poplar pale  The parting Genius is with sighing sent,  With flowre-inwov'n tresses torn  The Nimphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn.  XXI  In consecrated Earth,  And on the holy Hearth,                                             190  The Lars, and Lemures moan with midnight plaint,  In Urns, and Altars round,  A drear, and dying sound  Affrights the Flamins at their service quaint;  And the chill Marble seems to sweat,  While each peculiar power forgoes his wonted seat.  XXII  Peor, and Baalim,  Forsake their Temples dim,  With that twise-batter'd god of Palestine,  And mooned Ashtaroth,                                               200  Heav'ns Queen and Mother both,  Now sits not girt with Tapers holy shine,  The Libyc Hammon shrinks his horn,  In vain the Tyrian Maids their wounded Thamuz mourn.  XXIII  And sullen Moloch fled,  Hath left in shadows dred,  His burning Idol all of blackest hue,  In vain with Cymbals ring,  They call the grisly king,  In dismall dance about the furnace Blue;                            210  And Brutish gods of Nile as fast,  Isis and Orus, and the Dog Anubis hast.  XXIV  Nor is Osiris seen  In Memphian grove or green,           Trampling the unshower'd grass with lowings loud;  Nor can he be at rest  Within his sacred chest,           Naught but profoundest Hell can be his shroud:  In vain with timbrel'd anthems dark  The sable-stoled sorcerers bear his worshipp'd ark.  XXV  He feels from Juda's land  The dreaded Infant's hand,           The rays of Bethlehem blind his dusky eyn;  Nor all the gods beside  Longer dare abide,           Not Typhon huge ending in snaky twine:  Our Babe, to show his Godhead true,  Can in his swaddling bands control the damned crew.  XXVI  So when the Sun in bed,  Curtain'd with cloudy red,           Pillows his chin upon an orient wave,  The flocking shadows pale  Troop to th'infernal jail,           Each fetter'd ghost slips to his several grave,  And the yellow-skirted fays  Fly after the night-steeds, leaving their moon-lov'd maze.  XXVII  But see, the Virgin blest  Hath laid her Babe to rest:           Time is our tedious song should here have ending.  Heav'n's youngest-teemed star,  Hath fix'd her polish'd car,           Her sleeping Lord with handmaid lamp attending;  And all about the courtly stable,  Bright-harness'd Angels sit in order serviceable.





THE PASSION.

I  ERE-while of Musick, and Ethereal mirth,  Wherwith the stage of Ayr and Earth did ring,  And joyous news of heav'nly Infants birth,  My muse with Angels did divide to sing;  But headlong joy is ever on the wing,  In Wintry solstice like the shortn'd light  Soon swallow'd up in dark and long out-living night.  II  For now to sorrow must I tune my song,  And set my Harpe to notes of saddest wo,  Which on our dearest Lord did sease er'e long,  Dangers, and snares, and wrongs, and worse then so,                  10  Which he for us did freely undergo.  Most perfect Heroe, try'd in heaviest plight  Of labours huge and hard, too hard for human wight.  III  He sov'ran Priest stooping his regall head  That dropt with odorous oil down his fair eyes,  Poor fleshly Tabernacle entered,  His starry front low-rooft beneath the skies;  O what a Mask was there, what a disguise!  Yet more; the stroke of death he must abide,                         20  Then lies him meekly down fast by his Brethrens side.  IV  These latter scenes confine my roving vers,  To this Horizon is my Phoebus bound,  His Godlike acts, and his temptations fierce,  And former sufferings other where are found;  Loud o're the rest Cremona's Trump doth sound;  Me softer airs befit, and softer strings  Of Lute, or Viol still, more apt for mournful things.  Note: 22 latter] latest 1673.  V  Befriend me night best Patroness of grief,  Over the Pole thy thickest mantle throw,                             30  And work my flatterd fancy to belief,  That Heav'n and Earth are colour'd with my wo;  My sorrows are too dark for day to know:  The leaves should all be black wheron I write,  And letters where my tears have washt a wannish white.  VI  See see the Chariot, and those rushing wheels,  That whirl'd the Prophet up at Chebar flood,  My spirit som transporting Cherub feels,  To bear me where the Towers of Salem stood,  Once glorious Towers, now sunk in guiltles blood;                    40  There doth my soul in holy vision sit  In pensive trance, and anguish, and ecstatick fit.  VII  Mine eye hath found that sad Sepulchral rock  That was the Casket of Heav'ns richest store,  And here though grief my feeble hands up-lock,  Yet on the softned Quarry would I score  My plaining vers as lively as before;  For sure so well instructed are my tears,  They would fitly fall in order'd Characters.  VIII  I thence hurried on viewles wing,                                    50  Take up a weeping on the Mountains wilde,  The gentle neighbourhood of grove and spring  Would soon unboosom all their Echoes milde,  And I (for grief is easily beguild)  Might think th'infection of my sorrows bound,  Had got a race of mourners on som pregnant cloud.  Note: This subject the Author finding to be above the yeers he had,  when he wrote it, and nothing satisfi'd with what was begun,  left it unfinish'd.





ON TIME.

FLY envious Time, till thou run out thy race,  Call on the lazy leaden-stepping hours,  Whose speed is but the heavy Plummets pace;  And glut thy self with what thy womb devours,  Which is no more then what is false and vain,  And meerly mortal dross;  So little is our loss,  So little is thy gain.  For when as each thing bad thou hast entomb'd,  And last of all, thy greedy self consum'd,                           10  Then long Eternity shall greet our bliss  With an individual kiss;  And Joy shall overtake us as a flood,  When every thing that is sincerely good  And perfectly divine,  With Truth, and Peace, and Love shall ever shine  About the supreme Throne  Of him, t'whose happy-making sight alone,  When once our heav'nly-guided soul shall clime,  Then all this Earthy grosnes quit,                                   20  Attir'd with Stars, we shall for ever sit,  Triumphing over Death, and Chance, and thee O Time.  Note: See the appendix for the manuscript version.





UPON THE CIRCUMCISION.

YE flaming Powers, and winged Warriours bright,  That erst with Musick, and triumphant song  First heard by happy watchful Shepherds ear,  So sweetly sung your Joy the Clouds along  Through the soft silence of the list'ning night;  Now mourn, and if sad share with us to bear  Your fiery essence can distill no tear,  Burn in your sighs, and borrow  Seas wept from our deep sorrow,  He who with all Heav'ns heraldry whileare                            10  Enter'd the world, now bleeds to give us ease;  Alas, how soon our sin  Sore doth begin  His Infancy to sease!  O more exceeding love or law more just?  Just law indeed, but more exceeding love!  For we by rightfull doom remediles  Were lost in death, till he that dwelt above  High thron'd in secret bliss, for us frail dust  Emptied his glory, ev'n to nakednes;                                 20  And that great Cov'nant which we still transgress  Intirely satisfi'd,  And the full wrath beside  Of vengeful Justice bore for our excess,  And seals obedience first with wounding smart  This day, but O ere long  Huge pangs and strong  Will pierce more neer his heart.





AT A SOLEMN MUSICK.

BLEST pair of Sirens, pledges of Heav'ns joy,  Sphear-born harmonious Sisters, Voice, and Vers,  Wed your divine sounds, and mixt power employ  Dead things with inbreath'd sense able to pierce,  And to our high-rais'd phantasie present,  That undisturbed Song of pure content,  Ay sung before the saphire-colour'd throne  To him that sits theron  With Saintly shout, and solemn Jubily,  Where the bright Seraphim in burning row                             10  Their loud up-lifted Angel trumpets blow,  And the Cherubick host in thousand quires  Touch their immortal Harps of golden wires,  With those just Spirits that wear victorious Palms,  Hymns devout and holy Psalms  Singing everlastingly;  That we on Earth with undiscording voice  May rightly answer that melodious noise;  As  once we did, till disproportion'd sin  Jarr'd against natures chime, and with harsh din                     20  The fair musick that all creatures made  To their great Lord, whose love their motion sway'd  In perfect Diapason, whilst they stood  In first obedience, and their state of good.  O may we soon again renew that Song,  And keep in tune with Heav'n, till God ere long  To his celestial consort us unite,  To live with him, and sing in endles morn of light.  Note: 6 content]  Manuscript reads concent as does the Second  Edition; so that content is probably a misprint.





AN EPITAPH ON THE MARCHIONESS OF WINCHESTER.

THIS rich Marble doth enterr  The honour'd Wife of Winchester,  A Vicounts daughter, an Earls heir,  Besides what her vertues fair  Added to her noble birth,  More then she could own from Earth.  Summers three times eight save one  She had told, alas too soon,  After so short time of breath,  To house with darknes, and with death.                               10  Yet had the number of her days  Bin as compleat as was her praise,  Nature and fate had had no strife  In giving limit to her life.  Her high birth, and her graces sweet,  Quickly found a lover meet;  The Virgin quire for her request  The God that sits at marriage feast;  He at their invoking came  But with a scarce-wel-lighted flame;                                 20  And in his Garland as he stood,  Ye might discern a Cipress bud.  Once had the early Matrons run  To greet her of a lovely son,  And now with second hope she goes,  And calls Lucina to her throws;  But whether by mischance or blame  Atropos for Lucina came;  And with remorsles cruelty,  Spoil'd at once both fruit and tree:                                 30  The haples Babe before his birth  Had burial, yet not laid in earth,  And the languisht Mothers Womb  Was not long a living Tomb.  So have I seen som tender slip  Sav'd with care from Winters nip,  The pride of her carnation train,  Pluck't up by som unheedy swain,  Who onely thought to crop the flowr  New shot up from vernall showr;                                      40  But the fair blossom hangs the head  Side-ways as on a dying bed,  And those Pearls of dew she wears,  Prove to be presaging tears  Which the sad morn had let fall  On her hast'ning funerall.  Gentle Lady may thy grave  Peace and quiet ever have;  After this thy travail sore  Sweet rest sease thee evermore,                                      50  That to give the world encrease,  Shortned hast thy own lives lease;  Here besides the sorrowing  That thy noble House doth bring,  Here be tears of perfect moan  Weept for thee in Helicon,  And som Flowers, and som Bays,  For thy Hears to strew the ways,  Sent thee from the banks of Came,  Devoted to thy vertuous name;                                        60  Whilst thou bright Saint high sit'st in glory,  Next her much like to thee in story,  That fair Syrian Shepherdess,  Who after yeers of barrennes,  The highly favour'd Joseph bore  To him that serv'd for her before,  And at her next birth much like thee,  Through pangs fled to felicity,  Far within the boosom bright  of blazing Majesty and Light,                                        70  There with thee, new welcom Saint,  Like fortunes may her soul acquaint,  With thee there clad in radiant sheen,  No Marchioness, but now a Queen.





SONG ON MAY MORNING.

Now the bright morning Star, Dayes harbinger,  Comes dancing from the East, and leads with her  The Flowry May, who from her green lap throws  The yellow Cowslip, and the pale Primrose.  Hail bounteous May that dost inspire  Mirth and youth, and warm desire,  Woods and Groves, are of thy dressing,  Hill and Dale, doth boast thy blessing.  Thus we salute thee with our early Song,  And welcom thee, and wish thee long.                                 10





ON SHAKESPEAR. 1630.

WHAT needs my Shakespear for his honour'd Bones,  The labour of an age in piled Stones,  Or that his hallow'd reliques should be hid  Under a Star-ypointing Pyramid?  Dear son of memory, great heir of Fame,  What need'st thou such weak witnes of thy name?  Thou in our wonder and astonishment  Hast built thy self a live-long Monument.  For whilst to th'shame of slow-endeavouring art,  Thy easie numbers flow, and that each heart                          10  Hath from the Leaves of thy unvalu'd Book,  Those Delphick lines with deep impression took,  Then thou our fancy of it self bereaving,  Dost make us Marble with too much conceaving;  And so Sepulcher'd in such pomp dost lie,  That Kings for such a Tomb would wish to die.  Notes: On Shakespear.  Reprinted 1632 in the second folio  Shakespeare:  Title] An epitaph on the admirable dramaticke poet W.  Shakespeare  1 needs] neede  6 weak] dull  8 live-long] lasting  10 heart] part  13 it] her





ON THE UNIVERSITY CARRIER WHO SICKN'D IN THE TIME OF HISVACANCY, BEING FORBID TO GO TO LONDON, BY REASON OF THEPLAGUE.

HERE lies old Hobson, Death hath broke his girt,  And here alas, hath laid him in the dirt,  Or els the ways being foul, twenty to one,  He's here stuck in a slough, and overthrown.  'Twas such a shifter, that if truth were known,  Death was half glad when he had got him down;  For he had any time this ten yeers full,  Dodg'd with him, betwixt Cambridge and the Bull.  And surely, Death could never have prevail'd,  Had not his weekly cours of carriage fail'd;                         10  But lately finding him so long at home,  And thinking now his journeys end was come,  And that he had tane up his latest Inne,  In the kind office of a Chamberlin  Shew'd him his room where he must lodge that night,  Pull'd off his Boots, and took away the light:  If any ask for him, it shall be sed,  Hobson has supt, and 's newly gon to bed.





ANOTHER ON THE SAME.

HERE lieth one who did most truly prove,  That he could never die while he could move,  So hung his destiny never to rot  While he might still jogg on, and keep his trot,  Made of sphear-metal, never to decay  Untill his revolution was at stay.  Time numbers motion, yet (without a crime  'Gainst old truth) motion number'd out his time:  And like an Engin mov'd with wheel and waight,  His principles being ceast, he ended strait.                         10  Rest that gives all men life, gave him his death,  And too much breathing put him out of breath;  Nor were it contradiction to affirm  Too long vacation hastned on his term.  Meerly to drive the time away he sickn'd,  Fainted, and died, nor would with Ale be quickn'd;  Nay, quoth he, on his swooning bed out-stretch'd,  If I may not carry, sure Ile ne're be fetch'd,  But vow though the cross Doctors all stood hearers,  For one Carrier put down to make six bearers.                        20  Ease was his chief disease, and to judge right,  He di'd for heavines that his Cart went light,  His leasure told him that his time was com,  And lack of load, made his life burdensom  That even to his last breath (ther be that say't)  As he were prest to death, he cry'd more waight;  But had his doings lasted as they were,  He had bin an immortall Carrier.  Obedient to the Moon he spent his date  In cours reciprocal, and had his fate                                30  Linkt to the mutual flowing of the Seas,  Yet (strange to think) his wain was his increase:  His Letters are deliver'd all and gon,  Onely remains this superscription.





L'ALLEGRO.

HENCE loathed Melancholy  Of Cerberus, and blackest midnight born,  In Stygian Cave forlorn  'Mongst horrid shapes, and shreiks, and sights unholy,  Find out som uncouth cell,  Where brooding darknes spreads his jealous wings,  And the night-Raven sings;  There under Ebon shades and low-brow'd Rocks,  As ragged as thy Locks,  In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell.                                 10  But com thou Goddes fair and free,  In Heav'n ycleap'd Euphrosyne,  And by men, heart-easing Mirth,  Whom lovely Venus at a birth  With two sister Graces more  To Ivy-crowned Bacchus bore;  Or whether (as som Sager sing)  The frolick Wind that breathes the Spring,  Zephir with Aurora playing,  As he met her once a Maying,                                         20  There on Beds of Violets blew,  And fresh-blown Roses washt in dew,  Fill'd her with thee a daughter fair,  So bucksom, blith, and debonair.  Haste thee nymph, and bring with thee  Jest and youthful Jollity,  Quips and Cranks, and wanton Wiles,  Nods, and Becks, and Wreathed Smiles,  Such as hang on Hebe's cheek,  And love to live in dimple sleek;                                    30  Sport that wrincled Care derides,  And Laughter holding both his sides.  Com, and trip it as ye go  On the light fantastick toe,  And in thy right hand lead with thee,  The Mountain Nymph, sweet Liberty;  And if I give thee honour due,  Mirth, admit me of thy crue  To live with her, and live with thee,  In unreproved pleasures free;                                        40  To hear the Lark begin his flight,  And singing startle the dull night,  From his watch-towre in the skies,  Till the dappled dawn doth rise;  Then to com in spight of sorrow,  And at my window bid good morrow,  Through the Sweet-Briar, or the Vine,  Or the twisted Eglantine.  While the Cock with lively din,  Scatters the rear of darknes thin,                                   50  And to the stack, or the Barn dore,  Stoutly struts his Dames before,  Oft list'ning how the Hounds and horn  Chearly rouse the slumbring morn,  From the side of som Hoar Hill,  Through the high wood echoing shrill.  Som time walking not unseen  By Hedge-row Elms, on Hillocks green,  Right against the Eastern gate,  Wher the great Sun begins his state,                                 60  Rob'd in flames, and Amber light,  The clouds in thousand Liveries dight.  While the Plowman neer at hand,  Whistles ore the Furrow'd Land,  And the Milkmaid singeth blithe,  And the Mower whets his sithe,  And every Shepherd tells his tale  Under the Hawthorn in the dale.  Streit mine eye hath caught new pleasures  Whilst the Lantskip round it measures,                               70  Russet Lawns, and Fallows Gray,  Where the nibling flocks do stray,  Mountains on whose barren brest  The labouring clouds do often rest:  Meadows trim with Daisies pide,  Shallow Brooks, and Rivers wide.  Towers, and Battlements it sees  Boosom'd high in tufted Trees,  Wher perhaps som beauty lies,  The Cynosure of neighbouring eyes.                                   80  Hard by, a Cottage chimney smokes,  From betwixt two aged Okes,  Where Corydon and Thyrsis met,  Are at their savory dinner set  Of Hearbs, and other Country Messes,  Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses;  And then in haste her Bowre she leaves,  With Thestylis to bind the Sheaves;  Or if the earlier season lead  To the tann'd Haycock in the Mead,                                   90  Som times with secure delight  The up-land Hamlets will invite,  When the merry Bells ring round,  And the jocond rebecks sound  To many a youth, and many a maid,  Dancing in the Chequer'd shade;  And young and old com forth to play  On a Sunshine Holyday,  Till the live-long day-light fail,  Then to the Spicy Nut-brown Ale,                                    100  With stories told of many a feat,  How Faery Mab the junkets eat,  She was pincht, and pull'd she sed,  And he by Friars Lanthorn led  Tells how the drudging Goblin swet,  To ern his Cream-bowle duly set,  When in one night, ere glimps of morn,  His shadowy Flale hath thresh'd the Corn  That ten day-labourers could not end,  Then lies him down the Lubbar Fend.                                 110  And stretch'd out all the Chimney's length,  Basks at the fire his hairy strength;  And Crop-full out of dores he flings,  Ere the first Cock his Mattin rings.  Thus don the Tales, to bed they creep,  By whispering Windes soon lull'd asleep.  Towred Cities please us then,  And the busie humm of men,  Where throngs of Knights and Barons bold,  In weeds of Peace high triumphs hold,                               120  With store of Ladies, whose bright eies  Rain influence, and judge the prise  Of Wit, or Arms, while both contend  To win her Grace, whom all commend.  There let Hymen oft appear  In Saffron robe, with Taper clear,  And pomp, and feast, and revelry,  With mask, and antique Pageantry,  Such sights as youthfull Poets dream  On Summer eeves by haunted stream.                                  130  Then to the well-trod stage anon,  If Jonsons learned Sock be on,  Or sweetest Shakespear fancies childe,  Warble his native Wood-notes wilde,  And ever against eating Cares,  Lap me in soft Lydian Aires,  Married to immortal verse  Such as the meeting soul may pierce  In notes, with many a winding bout  Of lincked sweetnes long drawn out,                                 140  With wanton heed, and giddy cunning,  The melting voice through mazes running;  Untwisting all the chains that ty  The hidden soul of harmony.  That Orpheus self may heave his head  From golden slumber on a bed  Of heapt Elysian flowres, and hear  Such streins as would have won the ear  Of Pluto, to have quite set free  His half regain'd Eurydice.                                         150  These delights, if thou canst give,  Mirth with thee, I mean to live.  Notes:  33 Ye] You 1673  104 And he by] And by the 1673





IL PENSEROSO.

Hence vain deluding joyes,  The brood of folly without father bred,  How little you bested,  Or fill the fixed mind with all your toyes;  Dwell in som idle brain  And fancies fond with gaudy shapes possess,  As thick and numberless  As the gay motes that people the Sun Beams,  Or likest hovering dreams  The fickle Pensioners of Morpheus train.                             10  But hail thou Goddess, sage and holy,  Hail divinest Melancholy  Whose Saintly visage is too bright  To hit the Sense of human sight;  And therefore to our weaker view,  Ore laid with black staid Wisdoms hue.  Black, but such as in esteem,  Prince Memnons sister might beseem,  Or that Starr'd Ethiope Queen that strove  To set her beauties praise above                                     20  The Sea Nymphs, and their powers offended.  Yet thou art higher far descended,  Thee bright-hair'd Vesta long of yore,  To solitary Saturn bore;  His daughter she (in Saturns raign,  Such mixture was not held a stain)  Oft in glimmering Bowres, and glades  He met her, and in secret shades  Of woody Ida's inmost grove,  While yet there was no fear of Jove.                                 30  Com pensive Nun, devout and pure,  Sober, stedfast, and demure,  All in a robe of darkest grain,  Flowing with majestick train,  And sable stole of Cipres Lawn,  Over thy decent shoulders drawn.  Com, but keep thy wonted state,  With eev'n step, and musing gate,  And looks commercing with the skies,  Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes:                                 40  There held in holy passion still,  Forget thy self to Marble, till  With a sad Leaden downward cast,  Thou fix them on the earth as fast.  And joyn with thee calm Peace, and Quiet,  Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet,  And hears the Muses in a ring,  Ay round about Joves Altar sing.  And adde to these retired Leasure,  That in trim Gardens takes his pleasure;                             50  But first, and chiefest, with thee bring,  Him that yon soars on golden wing,  Guiding the fiery-wheeled throne,  The Cherub Contemplation,  And the mute Silence hist along,  'Less Philomel will daign a Song,  In her sweetest, saddest plight,  Smoothing the rugged brow of night,  While Cynthia checks her Dragon yoke,  Gently o're th'accustom'd Oke;                                       60  Sweet Bird that shunn'st the noise of folly  Most musical!, most melancholy!  Thee Chauntress oft the Woods among  I woo to hear thy eeven-Song;  And missing thee, I walk unseen  On the dry smooth-shaven Green,  To behold the wandring Moon,  Riding neer her highest noon,  Like one that had bin led astray  Through the Heav'ns wide pathles way;                                70  And oft, as if her head she bow'd,  Stooping through a fleecy cloud.  Oft on a Plat of rising ground,  I hear the far-off Curfeu sound,  Over som wide-water'd shoar,  Swinging slow with sullen roar;  Or if the Ayr will not permit,  Som still removed place will fit,  Where glowing Embers through the room  Teach light to counterfeit a gloom                                   80  Far from all resort of mirth,  Save the Cricket on the hearth,  Or the Belmans drowsie charm,  To bless the dores from nightly harm:  Or let my Lamp at midnight hour,  Be seen in som high lonely Towr,  Where I may oft out-watch the Bear,  With thrice great Hermes, or unsphear  The spirit of Plato to unfold  What Worlds, or what vast Regions hold                               90  The immortal mind that hath forsook  Her mansion in this fleshly nook:  And of those Daemons that are found  In fire, air, flood, or under ground,  Whose power hath a true consent  With planet or with Element.  Som time let Gorgeous Tragedy  In Scepter'd Pall com sweeping by,  Presenting Thebs, or Pelops line,  Or the tale of Troy divine.                                         100  Or what (though rare) of later age,  Ennobled hath the Buskind stage.  But, O sad Virgin, that thy power  Might raise Musaeus from his bower,  Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing  Such notes as warbled to the string,  Drew Iron tears down Pluto's cheek,  And made Hell grant what Love did seek.  Or call up him that left half told  The story of Cambuscan bold,                                        110  Of Camball, and of Algarsife,  And who had Canace to wife,  That own'd the vertuous Ring and Glass,  And of the wondrous Hors of Brass,  On which the Tartar King did ride;  And if ought els, great Bards beside,  In sage and solemn tunes have sung,  Of Turneys and of Trophies hung;  Of Forests, and inchantments drear,  Where more is meant then meets the ear.                             120  Thus night oft see me in thy pale career,  Till civil-suited Morn appeer,  Not trickt and frounc't as she was wont,  With the Attick Boy to hunt,  But Cherchef't in a comly Cloud,  While rocking Winds are Piping loud,  Or usher'd with a shower still,  When the gust hath blown his fill,  Ending on the russling Leaves,  With minute drops from off the Eaves.                               130  And when the Sun begins to fling  His flaring beams, me Goddes bring  To arched walks of twilight groves,  And shadows brown that Sylvan loves  Of Pine, or monumental Oake,  Where the rude Ax with heaved stroke,  Was never heard the Nymphs to daunt,  Or fright them from their hallow'd haunt.  There in close covert by som Brook,  Where no profaner eye may look,                                     140  Hide me from Day's garish eie,  While the Bee with Honied thie,  That at her flowry work doth sing,  And the Waters murmuring  With such consort as they keep,  Entice the dewy-feather'd Sleep;  And let som strange mysterious dream,  Wave at his Wings in Airy stream,  Of lively portrature display'd,  Softly on my eye-lids laid.                                         150  And as I wake, sweet musick breath  Above, about, or underneath,  Sent by som spirit to mortals good,  Or th'unseen Genius of the Wood.  But let my due feet never fail,  To walk the studious Cloysters pale,  And love the high embowed Roof  With antick Pillars massy proof,  And storied Windows richly dight,  Casting a dimm religious light.                                     160  There let the pealing Organ blow,  To the full voic'd Quire below,  In Service high, and Anthems cleer,  As may with sweetnes, through mine ear,  Dissolve me into extasies,  And bring all Heav'n before mine eyes.  And may at last my weary age  Find out the peacefull hermitage,  The Hairy Gown and Mossy Cell,  Where I may sit and rightly spell                                   170  Of every Star that Heav'n doth shew,  And every Herb that sips the dew;  Till old  experience do attain  To somthing like prophetic strain.  These pleasures Melancholy give,  And I with thee will choose to live.





SONNETS.

I  O Nightingale, that on yon bloomy Spray  Warbl'st at eeve, when all the Woods are still,  Thou with fresh hope the Lovers heart dost fill,  While the jolly hours lead on propitious May,  Thy liquid notes that close the eye of Day,  First heard before the shallow Cuccoo's bill  Portend success in love; O if Jove's will  Have linkt that amorous power to thy soft lay,  Now timely sing, ere the rude Bird of Hate  Foretell my hopeles doom in som Grove ny:                            10  As thou from yeer to yeer hast sung too late  For my relief; yet hadst no reason why,  Whether the Muse, or Love call thee his mate,  Both them I serve, and of their train am I.  II  Donna leggiadra il cui bel nome honora  L'herbosa val di Rheno, e il nobil varco,  Ben e colui d'ogni valore scarco  Qual tuo spirto gentil non innamora,  Che dolcemente mostra si di fuora  De suoi atti soavi giamai parco,  E i don', che son d'amor saette ed arco,  La onde l' alta tua virtu s'infiora.  Quando tu vaga parli, O lieta canti  Che mover possa duro alpestre legno,                                 10  Guardi ciascun a gli occhi ed a gli orecchi  L'entrata, chi di te si truova indegno;  Gratia sola di su gli vaglia, inanti  Che'l disio amoroso al cuor s'invecchi.  III  Qual in colle aspro, al imbrunir di sera  L'avezza giovinetta pastorella  Va bagnando l'herbetta strana e bella  Che mal si spande a disusata spera  Fuor di sua natia alma primavera,  Cosi Amor meco insu la lingua snella  Desta il fior novo di strania favella,  Mentre io di te, vezzosamente altera,  Canto, dal mio buon popol non inteso  E'l bel Tamigi cangio col bel Arno                                   10  Amor lo volse, ed io a l'altrui peso  Seppi ch' Amor cosa mai volse indarno.  Deh!  foss' il mio cuor lento e'l duro seno  A chi pianta dal ciel si buon terreno.  Canzone.  Ridonsi donne e giovani amorosi  M' occostandosi attorno, e perche scrivi,  Perche tu scrivi in lingua ignota e strana  Verseggiando d'amor, e come t'osi?  Dinne, se la tua speme sia mai vana  E de pensieri lo miglior t' arrivi;  Cosi mi van burlando, altri rivi  Altri lidi t' aspettan, & altre onde  Nelle cui verdi sponde  Spuntati ad hor, ad hor a la tua chioma                              10  L'immortal guiderdon d 'eterne frondi  Perche alle spalle tue soverchia soma?  Canzon dirotti, e tu per me rispondi  Dice mia Donna, e'l suo dir, e il mio cuore  Questa e lingua di cui si vanta Amore.  IV  Diodati, e te'l diro con maraviglia,  Quel ritroso io ch'amor spreggiar solea  E de suoi lacci spesso mi ridea  Gia caddi, ov'huom dabben talhor s'impiglia.  Ne treccie d'oro, ne guancia vermiglia  M' abbaglian si, ma sotto nova idea  Pellegrina bellezza che'l cuor bea,  Portamenti alti honesti, e nelle ciglia  Quel sereno fulgor d' amabil nero,  Parole adorne di lingua piu d'una,                                   10  E'l cantar che di mezzo l'hemispero  Traviar ben puo la faticosa Luna,  E degil occhi suoi auventa si gran fuoco  Che l 'incerar gli oreechi mi fia poco.  V  Per certo i bei vostr'occhi Donna mia  Esser non puo che non fian lo mio sole  Si mi percuoton forte, come ci suole  Per l'arene di Libia chi s'invia,  Mentre un caldo vapor (ne senti pria)  Da quel lato si spinge ove mi duole,  Che forsi amanti nelle lor parole  Chiaman sospir; io non so che si sia:  Parte rinchiusa, e turbida si cela  Scosso mi il petto, e poi n'uscendo poco                             10  Quivi d' attorno o s'agghiaccia, o s'ingiela;  Ma quanto a gli occhi giunge a trovar loco  Tutte le notti a me suol far piovose  Finche mia Alba rivien colma di rose.  VI  Giovane piano, e semplicetto amante  Poi che fuggir me stesso in dubbio sono,  Madonna a voi del mio cuor l'humil dono  Faro divoto; io certo a prove tante  L'hebbi fedele, intrepido, costante,  De pensieri leggiadro, accorto, e buono;  Quando rugge il gran mondo, e scocca il tuono,  S 'arma di se, e d' intero diamante,  Tanto del forse, e d' invidia sicuro,  Di timori, e speranze al popol use                                   10  Quanto d'ingegno, e d' alto valor vago,  E di cetra sonora, e delle muse:  Sol troverete in tal parte men duro  Ove amor mise l 'insanabil ago.  VII  How soon hath Time the suttle theef of youth,  Stoln on his wing my three and twentith yeer!  My hasting dayes flie on with full career,  But my late spring no bud or blossom shew'th,  Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth,  That I to manhood am arriv'd so near,  And inward ripenes doth much less appear,  That som more timely-happy spirits indu'th.  Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow.  It shall be still in strictest measure eev'n,                        10  To that same lot, however mean, or high,  Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heav'n;  All is, if I have grace to use it so,  As ever in my great task Masters eye.
VIII  Captain or Colonel, or Knight in Arms,  Whose chance on these defenceless dores may sease,  If ever deed of honour did thee please,  Guard them, and him within protect from harms,  He can requite thee, for he knows the charms  That call Fame on such gentle acts as these,  And he can spred thy Name o're Lands and Seas,  What ever clime the Suns bright circle warms.  Lift not thy spear against the Muses Bowre,  The great Emathian Conqueror bid spare                               10  The house of Pindarus, when Temple and Towre  Went to the ground: And the repeated air  Of sad Electra's Poet had the power  To save th' Athenian Walls from ruine bare.  Notes:  Camb. autograph supplies title, When the assault was intended  to the city.  3 If deed of honour did thee ever please,  1673.  IX  Lady that in the prime of earliest youth,  Wisely hath shun'd the broad way and the green,  And with those few art eminently seen,  That labour up the Hill of heav'nly Truth,  The better part with Mary and with Ruth,  Chosen thou hast, and they that overween,  And at thy growing vertues fret their spleen,  No anger find in thee, but pity and ruth.  Thy care is fixt and zealously attends  To fill thy odorous Lamp with deeds of light,  And Hope that reaps not shame.  Therefore be sure  Thou, when the Bridegroom with his feastfull friends  Passes to bliss at the mid hour of night,  Hast gain'd thy entrance, Virgin wise and pure.  Note: 5 with Ruth] the Ruth  1645.  X  Daughter to that good Earl, once President  Of Englands Counsel, and her Treasury,  Who liv'd in both, unstain'd with gold or fee,  And left them both, more in himself content,  Till the sad breaking of that Parlament  Broke him, as that dishonest victory  At Chaeronea, fatal to liberty  Kil'd with report that Old man eloquent,  Though later born, then to have known the dayes  Wherin your Father flourisht, yet by you                             10  Madam, me thinks I see him living yet;  So well your words his noble vertues praise,  That all both judge you to relate them true,  And to possess them, Honour'd Margaret.  Note: Camb. autograph supplies title, To the Lady Margaret  Ley.





ARCADES.

Part of an entertainment presented to the Countess Dowager of  Darby at Harefield, by som Noble persons of her Family, who  appear on the Scene in pastoral habit, moving toward the seat  of State with this Song.  I. SONG.  LOOK Nymphs, and Shepherds look,  What sudden blaze of majesty  Is that which we from hence descry  Too divine to be mistook:  This this is she  To whom our vows and wishes bend,  Heer our solemn search hath end.  Fame that her high worth to raise,  Seem'd erst so lavish and profuse,  We may justly now accuse                                             10  Of detraction from her praise,  Less then half we find exprest,  Envy bid conceal the rest.  Mark what radiant state she spreds,  In circle round her shining throne,  Shooting her beams like silver threds,  This this is she alone,  Sitting like a Goddes bright,  In the center of her light.  Might she the wise Latona be,                                        20  Or the towred Cybele,  Mother of a hunderd gods;  Juno dare's not give her odds;  Who had thought this clime had held  A deity so unparalel'd?  As they com forward, the genius of the Wood appears, and  turning toward them, speaks.  GEN. Stay gentle Swains, for though in this disguise,  I see bright honour sparkle through your eyes,  Of famous Arcady ye are, and sprung  Of that renowned flood, so often sung,  Divine Alpheus, who by secret sluse,                                 30  Stole under Seas to meet his Arethuse;  And ye the breathing Roses of the Wood,  Fair silver-buskind Nymphs as great and good,  I know this quest of yours, and free intent  Was all in honour and devotion ment  To the great Mistres of yon princely shrine,  Whom with low reverence I adore as mine,  And with all helpful service will comply  To further this nights glad solemnity;  And lead ye where ye may more neer behold                            40  What shallow-searching Fame hath left untold;  Which I full oft amidst these shades alone  Have sate to wonder at, and gaze upon:  For know by lot from Jove I am the powr  Of this fair wood, and live in Oak'n bowr,  To nurse the Saplings tall, and curl the grove  With Ringlets quaint, and wanton windings wove.  And all my Plants I save from nightly ill,  Of noisom winds, and blasting vapours chill.  And from the Boughs brush off the evil dew,                          50  And heal the harms of thwarting thunder blew,  Or what the cross dire-looking Planet smites,  Or hurtfull Worm with canker'd venom bites.  When Eev'ning gray doth rise, I fetch my round  Over the mount, and all this hallow'd ground,  And early ere the odorous breath of morn  Awakes the slumbring leaves, or tasseld horn  Shakes the high thicket, haste I all about,  Number my ranks, and visit every sprout  With puissant words, and murmurs made to bless,                      60  But els in deep of night when drowsines  Hath lockt up mortal sense, then listen I  To the celestial Sirens harmony,  That sit upon the nine enfolded Sphears,  And sing to those that hold the vital shears,  And turn the Adamantine spindle round,  On which the fate of gods and men is wound.  Such sweet compulsion doth in musick ly,  To lull the daughters of Necessity,  And keep unsteddy Nature to her law,                                 70  And the low world in measur'd motion draw  After the heavenly tune, which none can hear  Of human mould with grosse unpurged ear;  And yet such musick worthiest were to blaze  The peerles height of her immortal praise,  Whose lustre leads us, and for her most fit,  If my inferior hand or voice could hit  Inimitable sounds, yet as we go,  What ere the skill of lesser gods can show,  I will assay, her worth to celebrate,                                80  And so attend ye toward her glittering state;  Where ye may all that are of noble stemm  Approach, and kiss her sacred vestures hemm.
2. SONG.  O're the smooth enameld green  Where no print of step hath been,  Follow me as I sing,  And touch the warbled string.  Under the shady roof  Of branching Elm Star-proof,  Follow me,                                                           90  I will bring you where she sits  Clad in splendor as befits  Her deity.  Such a rural Queen  All Arcadia hath not seen.
3. SONG.  Nymphs and Shepherds dance no more  By sandy Ladons Lillied banks.  On old Lycaeus or Cyllene hoar,  Trip no more in twilight ranks,  Though Erynanth your loss deplore,                                  100  A better soyl shall give ye thanks.  From the stony Maenalus,  Bring your Flocks, and live with us,  Here ye shall have greater grace,  To serve the Lady of this place.  Though Syrinx your Pans Mistres were,  Yet Syrinx well might wait on her.  Such a rural Queen  All Arcadia hath not seen.  Note: 22 hunderd]  Milton's own spelling here is hundred.  But in  the Errata to Paradise Lost (i. 760) he corrects hundred to hunderd.

Transcriber's note: Facsimile of Title page of Lycidasfollows:

JUSTA                         EDOVARDO KING                           naufrago,                               ab                      Amicis Moerentibus,                             amoris                               &                         mneias chaein  ——————————————————————————————  ——————————————————————————————         Sirecte calculam ponas, ubique naufragium est.                           Pet. Arb.  ——————————————————————————————  ——————————————————————————————                         CANTABRIGIAE:        Apud Thomam Buck, & Rogerum Daniel, celeberrimae                 Academiae typographos.  1638.





LYCIDAS.

In this Monody the Author bewails a learned Friend,  unfortunatly drown'd in his Passage from Chester on the Irish  Seas, 1637.  And by occasion foretels the ruine of our  corrupted Clergy then in their height.  YET once more, O ye Laurels, and once more  Ye Myrtles brown, with Ivy never-sear,  I com to pluck your Berries harsh and crude,  And with forc'd fingers rude,  Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year.  Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear,  Compels me to disturb your season due:  For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime  Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer:  Who would not sing for Lycidas? he knew  Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme.                          10  He must not flote upon his watry bear  Unwept, and welter to the parching wind,  Without the meed of som melodious tear.  Begin then, Sisters of the sacred well,  That from beneath the seat of Jove doth spring,  Begin, and somwhat loudly sweep the string.  Hence with denial vain, and coy excuse,  So may som gentle Muse  With lucky words favour my destin'd Urn,                             20  And as he passes turn,  And bid fair peace be to my sable shrowd.  For we were nurst upon the self-same hill,  Fed the same flock by fountain, shade, and rill.  Together both, ere the high Lawns appear'd  Under the opening eye-lids of the morn,  We drove a field and both together heard  What time the Gray-fly winds her sultry horn,  Batt'ning our flocks with the fresh dews of night,  Oft till the Star that rose, at Ev'ning, bright                      30  Toward Heav'ns descent had slop'd his westering wheel.  Mean while the Rural ditties were not mute,  Temper'd to th'Oaten Flute;  Rough Satyrs danc'd, and Fauns with clov'n heel,  From the glad sound would not be absent long,  And old Damoetas lov'd to hear our song.  But O the heavy change, now thou art gon,  Now thou art gon, and never must return!  Thee Shepherd, thee the Woods, and desert Caves,  With wilde Thyme and the gadding Vine o'regrown,                     40  And all their echoes mourn.  The Willows, and the Hazle Copses green,  Shall now no more be seen,  Fanning their joyous Leaves to thy soft layes.  As killing as the Canker to the Rose,  Or Taint-worm to the weanling Herds that graze,  Or Frost to Flowers, that their gay wardrop wear,  When first the White thorn blows;  Such, Lycidas, thy loss to Shepherds ear.  Where were ye Nymphs when the remorseless deep                       50  Clos'd o're the head of your lov'd Lycidas?  For neither were ye playing on the steep,  Where your old Bards, the famous Druids ly,  Nor on the shaggy top of Mona high,  Nor yet where Deva spreads her wisard stream:  Ay me, I fondly dream!  Had ye bin there—for what could that have don?  What could the Muse her self that Orpheus bore,  The Muse her self, for her inchanting son  Whom Universal nature did lament,                                    60  When by the rout that made the hideous roar,  His goary visage down the stream was sent,  Down the swift Hebrus to the Lesbian shore.  Alas! What boots it with uncessant care  To tend the homely slighted Shepherds trade,  And strictly meditate the thankles Muse,  Were it not better don as others use,  To sport with Amaryllis in the shade,  Or with the tangles of Neaera's hair?  Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise                    70  (That last infirmity of Noble mind)  To scorn delights, and live laborious dayes:  But the fair Guerdon when we hope to find,  And think to burst out into sudden blaze.  Comes the blind Fury with th'abhorred shears,  And slits the thin spun life.  But not the praise,  Phoebus repli'd, and touch'd my trembling ears;  Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil,  Nor in the glistering foil  Set off to th'world, nor in broad rumour lies,                       80  But lives and spreds aloft by those pure eyes,  And perfet witnes of all judging Jove;  As he pronounces lastly on each deed,  Of so much fame in Heav'n expect thy meed.  O Fountain Arethuse, and thou honour'd floud,  Smooth-sliding Mincius, crown'd with vocall reeds,  That strain I heard was of a higher mood:  But now my Oate proceeds,  And listens to the Herald of the Sea  That came in Neptune's plea,                                         90  He ask'd the Waves, and ask'd the Fellon winds,  What hard mishap hath doom'd this gentle swain?  And question'd every gust of rugged wings  That blows from off each beaked Promontory,  They knew not of his story,  And sage Hippotades their answer brings,  That not a blast was from his dungeon stray'd,  The Ayr was calm, and on the level brine,  Sleek Panope with all her sisters play'd.  It was that fatall and perfidious Bark                              100  Built in th'eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark,  That sunk so low that sacred head of thine.  Next Camus, reverend Sire, went footing slow,  His Mantle hairy, and his Bonnet sedge,  Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge  Like to that sanguine flower inscrib'd with woe.  Ah; Who hath reft (quoth he) my dearest pledge?  Last came, and last did go,  The Pilot of the Galilean lake,  Two massy Keyes he bore of metals twain,                            110  (The Golden opes, the Iron shuts amain)  He shook his Miter'd locks, and stern bespake,  How well could I have spar'd for thee, young swain,  Anow of such as for their bellies sake,  Creep and intrude, and climb into the fold?  Of other care they little reck'ning make,  Then how to scramble at the shearers feast,  And shove away the worthy bidden guest.  Blind mouthes! that scarce themselves know how to hold  A Sheep-hook, or have learn'd ought els the least                   120  That to the faithfull Herdmans art belongs!  What recks it them? What need they? They are sped;  And when they list, their lean and flashy songs  Grate on their scrannel Pipes of wretched straw,  The hungry Sheep look up, and are not fed,  But swoln with wind, and the rank mist they draw,  Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread:  Besides what the grim Woolf with privy paw  Daily devours apace, and nothing sed,  But that two-handed engine at the door,                             130  Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more.  Return Alpheus, the dread voice is past,  That shrunk thy streams; Return Sicilian Muse,  And call the Vales, and bid them hither cast  Their Bels, and Flourets of a thousand hues.  Ye valleys low where the milde whispers use,  Of shades and wanton winds, and gushing brooks,  On whose fresh lap the swart Star sparely looks,  Throw hither all your quaint enameld eyes,  That on the green terf suck the honied showres,                     140  And purple all the ground with vernal flowres.  Bring the rathe Primrose that forsaken dies.  The tufted Crow-toe, and pale Gessamine,  The white Pink, and the Pansie freakt with jeat,  The glowing Violet.  The Musk-rose, and the well attir'd Woodbine.  With Cowslips wan that hang the pensive hed,  And every flower that sad embroidery wears:  Bid Amaranthus all his beauty shed,  And daffadillies fill their cups with tears,                            150  And strew the Laureat Herse where Lycid lies.  For so to interpose a little ease,  Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise.  Ah me! Whilst thee the shores, and sounding Seas  Wash far away, where ere thy bones are hurl'd  Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides.  Where thou perhaps under the whelming tide  Visit'st the bottom of the monstrous world;  Or whether thou to our moist vows deny'd,  Sleep'st by the fable of Bellerus old,                              160  Where the great vision of the guarded Mount  Looks toward Namancos and Bayona's hold;  Look homeward Angel now, and melt with ruth.  And, O ye Dolphins, waft the haples youth.  Weep no more, woful Shepherds weep no more,  For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead,  Sunk though he be beneath the watry floar,  So sinks the day-star in the Ocean bed,  And yet anon repairs his drooping head,  And tricks his beams, and with new spangled Ore,                    170  Flames in the forehead of the morning sky:  So Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high,  Through the dear might of him that walk'd the waves  Where other groves, and other streams along,  With Nectar pure his oozy Lock's he laves,  And hears the unexpressive nuptiall Song,  In the blest Kingdoms meek of joy and love.  There entertain him all the Saints above,  In solemn troops, and sweet Societies  That sing, and singing in their glory move,                         180  And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.  Now Lycidas the Shepherds weep no more;  Hence forth thou art the Genius of the shore,  In thy large recompense and shalt be good  To all that wander in that perilous flood.  Thus sang the uncouth Swain to th'Okes and rills,  While the still morn went out with Sandals gray,  He touch'd the tender stops of various Quills,  With eager thought warbling his Dorick lay:  And now the Sun had stretch'd out all the hills,                    190  And now was dropt into the Western bay;  At last he rose, and twitch'd his Mantle blew:  To morrow to fresh Woods, and Pastures new.  Notes:   64  uncessant] Manuscript reads incessant, so that uncessant  is probably a misprint; though that spelling is retained in the Second  Edition.   82  perfet] So in Comus, line 203. In both these places  the manuscript has perfect, as elsewhere where the word occurs. In  the Solemn Music, line 23, where the First Edition reads perfect,  the second reads perfet.  149 Amaranthus] Amarantus

Transcriber's note: Facsimile of Title page of Comusfollows:

A MASKE                           PRESENTED                       At Ludlow Castle,                             1634:                On Michalemasse night, before the                        RIGHT HONORABLE,          IOHN Earle of Bridgewater, Viscount Brackly,              Lord President of WALES, and one of                 His MAIESTIES most honorable                        Privie Counsell.  ——————————————————————————————     Eheu quid volui misero mihi! floribus austrum     Perditus —————————  ——————————————————————————————                            LONDON                 Printed for HYMPHREY ROBINSON             at the signe of the Three Pidgeons in                   Pauls Church-yard.  1637.
To the Right Honourable, John Lord Vicount Bracly, Son and  Heir apparent to the Earl of Bridgewater, &c.
My LORD,  This Poem, which receiv'd its first occasion of Birth from your  Self, and others of your Noble Family, and much honour from  your own Person in the performance, now returns again to  make a finall Dedication of it self to you.  Although not openly  acknowledg'd by the Author, yet it is a legitimate off-spring, so  lovely, and so much desired, that the often Copying of it hath  tired my Pen to give my several friends satisfaction, and brought  me to a necessity of producing it to the publike view; and now  to offer it up in all rightfull devotion to those fair Hopes, and  rare endowments of your much-promising Youth, which give a  full assurance, to all that know you, of a future excellence.  Live  sweet Lord to be the honour of your Name, and receive this as  your own, from the hands of him, who hath by many favours  been long oblig'd to your most honour'd Parents, and as in this  representation your attendant Thyrsis, so now in all reall  expression  Your faithfull, and most humble Servant  H. LAWES.
Note: Dedication to Vicount Bracly: Omitted in 1673.
The Copy of a Letter writt'n by Sir HENRY WOOTTON, to  the Author, upon the following Poem.
From the Colledge, this 13. of April, 1638.  SIR,  It was a special favour, when you lately bestowed upon me  here, the first taste of your acquaintance, though no longer then  to make me know that I wanted more time to value it, and  to  enjoy it rightly; and in truth, if  I could then have imagined your  farther stay in these parts, which I understood afterwards by  Mr. H. I would have been bold in our vulgar phrase to mend my  draught (for you left me with an extreme thirst) and to have  begged your conversation again, joyntly with your said learned  Friend, at a poor meal or two, that we might have banded  together som good Authors of the antient time: Among which, I  observed you to have been familiar.  Since your going, you have charg'd me with new Obligations,  both for a very kinde Letter from you dated the sixth of this  Month, and for a dainty peece of entertainment which came  therwith.  Wherin I should much commend the Tragical part, if  the Lyrical did not ravish me with a certain Dorique delicacy in  your Songs and Odes, wherunto I must plainly confess to have  seen yet nothing parallel in our Language: Ipsa mollities.  But I must not omit to tell you, that I now onely owe you  thanks for intimating unto me (how modestly soever) the true  Artificer. For the work it self I had view'd som good while  before, with singular delight, having receiv'd it from our  common Friend Mr. R. in the very close of the late R's Poems,  Printed at Oxford, wherunto it was added (as I now suppose)  that the Accessory might help out the Principal, according to  the Art of Stationers, and to leave the Reader Con la bocca  dolce.  Now Sir, concerning your travels, wherin I may challenge a  little more priviledge of Discours with you; I suppose you will  not blanch Paris in your way; therfore I have been bold to  trouble you with a few lines to Mr. M. B. whom you shall easily  find attending the young Lord S. as his Governour, and you  may surely receive from him good directions for the shaping of  your farther journey into Italy, where he did reside by my choice  som time for the King, after mine own recess from Venice.  I should think that your best Line will be thorow the whole  length of France to Marseilles, and thence by Sea to Genoa,  whence the passage into Tuscany is as Diurnal as a Gravesend  Barge: I hasten as you do to Florence, or Siena, the rather to tell  you a short story from the interest you have given me in your  safety.  At Siena I was tabled in the House of one Alberto Scipioni, an  old Roman Courtier in dangerous times, having bin Steward to  the Duca di Pagliano, who with all his Family were strangled  save this onely man that escap'd by foresight of the Tempest:  With him I  had often much chat of those affairs; Into which he  took pleasure to look back from his Native Harbour: and at my  departure toward Rome (which had been the center of    his  experience) I had wonn confidence enough to beg his advice,  how I might carry my self securely there, without offence of  mine own conscience.  Signor Arrigo mio (sayes he) I pensieri  stretti, & il viso sciolto, will go safely over the whole World: Of  which Delphian Oracle (for so I have found it) your judgement  doth need no commentary; and therfore (Sir) I will commit you  with it to the best of all securities, Gods dear love, remaining  Your Friend as much at command as any of longer date,  Henry Wootton.  Postscript.  SIR, I have expressly sent this my Foot-boy to prevent your  departure without som acknowledgement from me of the  receipt of your obliging Letter, having myself through som  busines, I know not how, neglected the ordinary conveyance.  In any part where I shall understand you fixed, I shall be glad,  and diligent to entertain you with Home-Novelties; even for  som fomentation of our friendship, too soon interrupted in the  Cradle.  Note: Letter from Sir Henry Wootton: Omitted in 1673





A MASK PRESENTED At LUDLOW-Castle, 1634. &c.

The Persons.  The attendant Spirit afterwards in the habit of Thyrsis.  Comus with his crew.  The Lady.  1. Brother.  2. Brother.  Sabrina the Nymph.  The cheif persons which presented, were  The Lord Bracly.  Mr. Thomas Egerton his Brother,  The Lady Alice Egerton.
The first Scene discovers a wilde Wood.  The attendant Spirit descends or enters.  Spir: Before the starry threshold of Joves Court  My mansion is, where those immortal shapes  Of bright aereal Spirits live insphear'd  In Regions milde of calm and serene Ayr,  Above the smoak and stirr of this dim spot,  Which men call Earth, and with low-thoughted care  Confin'd, and pester'd in this pin-fold here,  Strive to keep up a frail, and Feaverish being  Unmindfull of the crown that Vertue gives  After this mortal change, to her true Servants                       10  Amongst the enthron'd gods on Sainted seats.  Yet some there be that by due steps aspire  To lay their just hands on that Golden Key  That ope's the Palace of Eternity:  To such my errand is, and but for such,  I would not soil these pure Ambrosial weeds,  With the rank vapours of this Sin-worn mould.  But to my task.  Neptune besides the sway  Of every salt Flood, and each ebbing Stream,  Took in by lot 'twixt high, and neather Jove,                        20  Imperial rule of all the Sea-girt Iles  That like to rich, and various gemms inlay  The unadorned boosom of the Deep,  Which he to grace his tributary gods  By course commits to severall government,  And gives them leave to wear their Saphire crowns,  And weild their little tridents, but this Ile  The greatest, and the best of all the main  He quarters to his blu-hair'd deities,  And all this tract that fronts the falling Sun                       30  A noble Peer of mickle trust, and power  Has in his charge, with temper'd awe to guide  An old, and haughty Nation proud in Arms:  Where his fair off-spring nurs't in Princely lore,  Are coming to attend their Fathers state,  And new-entrusted Scepter, but their way  Lies through the perplex't paths of this drear Wood,  The nodding horror of whose shady brows  Threats the forlorn and wandring Passinger.  And here their tender age might suffer perill,                       40  But that by quick command from Soveran Jove  I was dispatcht for their defence, and guard;  And listen why, for I will tell ye now  What never yet was heard in Tale or Song  From old, or modern Bard in Hall, or Bowr.  Bacchus that first from out the purple Grape,  Crush't the sweet poyson of mis-used Wine  After the Tuscan Mariners transform'd  Coasting the Tyrrhene shore, as the winds listed,  On Circes Iland fell (who knows not Circe                             50  The daughter of the Sun?  Whose charmed Cup  Whoever tasted, lost his upright shape,  And downward fell into a groveling Swine)  This Nymph that gaz'd upon his clustring locks,  With Ivy berries wreath'd, and his blithe youth,  Had by him, ere he parted thence, a Son  Much like his Father, but his Mother more,  Whom therfore she brought up and Comus named,  Who ripe, and frolick of his full grown age,  Roving the Celtic, and Iberian fields,                               60  At last betakes him to this ominous Wood,  And in thick shelter of black shades imbowr'd,  Excells his Mother at her mighty Art,  Offring to every weary Travailer,  His orient liquor in a Crystal Glasse,  To quench the drouth of Phoebus, which as they taste  (For most do taste through fond intemperate thirst )  Soon as the Potion works,  their human count'nance,  Th' express resemblance of the gods, is chang'd  Into som brutish form of Woolf, or Bear,                             70  Or Ounce, or Tiger, Hog, or bearded Goat,  All other parts remaining as they were,  And they, so perfect is their misery,  Not once perceive their foul disfigurement,  But boast themselves more comely then before  And all their friends, and native home forget  To roule with pleasure in a sensual stie.  Therfore when any favour'd of high Jove,  Chances to pass through this adventrous glade,  Swift as the Sparkle of a glancing Star,                             80  I shoot from Heav'n to give him safe convoy,  As now I do: But first I must put off  These my skie robes spun out of Iris Wooff,  And take the Weeds and likenes of a Swain,  That to the service of this house belongs,  Who with his soft Pipe, and smooth-dittied Song,  Well knows to still the wilde winds when they roar,  And hush the waving Woods, nor of lesse faith,  And in this office of his Mountain watch,  Likeliest, and neerest to the present ayd                            90  Of this occasion.  But I hear the tread  Of hatefull steps, I must be viewles now.  Comus enters with a Charming Rod in one hand, his Glass in  the other, with him a rout of monsters, headed like sundry sorts  of wilde Beasts, but otherwise like Men and Women, their  Apparel glistring, they come in making a riotous and unruly  noise, with Torches in their hands.  Co: The Star that bids the Shepherd fold,  Now the top of Heav'n doth hold,  And the gilded Car of Day,  His glowing Axle doth allay  In the steep Atlantick stream,  And the slope Sun his upward beam  Shoots against the dusky Pole,  Pacing toward the other gole                                        100  Of his Chamber in the East.  Meanwhile welcom Joy, and Feast,  Midnight shout, and revelry,  Tipsie dance, and Jollity.  Braid your Locks with rosie Twine  Dropping odours, dropping Wine.  Rigor now is gon to bed,  And Advice with scrupulous head,  Strict Age, and sowre Severity,  With their grave Saws in slumber ly.                               110  We that are of purer fire  Imitate the Starry Quire,  Who in their nightly watchfull Sphears,  Lead in swift round the Months and Years.  The Sounds, and Seas with all their finny drove  Now to the Moon in wavering Morrice move,  And on the Tawny Sands and Shelves,  Trip the pert Fairies and the dapper Elves;  By dimpled Brook, and Fountain brim,  The Wood-Nymphs deckt with Daisies trim,                            120  Their merry wakes and pastimes keep:  What hath night to do with sleep?  Night hath better sweets to prove,  Venus now wakes, and wak'ns Love.  Com let us our rights begin,  'Tis onely day-light that makes Sin  Which these dun shades will ne're report.  Hail Goddesse of Nocturnal sport  Dark vaild Cotytto, t' whom the secret flame  Of mid-night Torches burns; mysterious Dame                        130  That ne're art call'd, but when the Dragon woom  Of Stygian darknes spets her thickest gloom,  And makes one blot of all the ayr,  Stay thy cloudy Ebon chair,  Wherin thou rid'st with Hecat', and befriend  Us thy vow'd Priests, til utmost end  Of all thy dues be done, and none left out,  Ere the blabbing Eastern scout,  The nice Morn on th' Indian steep  From her cabin'd loop hole peep,                                    140  And to the tel-tale Sun discry  Our conceal'd Solemnity.  Com, knit hands, and beat the ground,  In a light fantastick round.  The Measure.  Break off; break off, I feel the different pace,  Of som chast footing neer about this ground.  Run to your shrouds, within these Brakes and Trees,  Our number may affright: Som Virgin sure  (For so I can distinguish by mine Art)  Benighted in these Woods.  Now to my charms,                        150  And to my wily trains, I shall e're long  Be well stock't with as fair a herd as graz'd  About my Mother Circe.  Thus I hurl  My dazling Spells into the spungy ayr,  Of power to cheat the eye with blear illusion,  And give it false presentments, lest the place  And my quaint habits breed astonishment,  And put the Damsel to suspicious flight,  Which must not be, for that's against my course;  I under fair pretence of friendly ends,                             160  And well plac't words of glozing courtesie  Baited with reasons not unplausible  Wind me into the easie-hearted man,  And hugg him into snares.  When once her eye  Hath met the vertue of this Magick dust,  I shall appear som harmles Villager  Whom thrift keeps up about his Country gear,  But here she comes, I fairly step aside,  And hearken, if I may, her busines here.  The Lady enters.  La: This way the noise was, if mine ear be true,                    170  My best guide now, me thought it was the sound  Of Riot, and ill manag'd Merriment,  Such as the jocond Flute, or gamesom Pipe  Stirs up among the loose unleter'd Hinds,  When for their teeming Flocks, and granges full  In wanton dance they praise the bounteous Pan,  And thank the gods amiss.  I should be loath  To meet the rudenesse, and swill'd insolence  of such late Wassailers; yet O where els  Shall I inform my unacquainted feet                                 180  In the blind mazes of this tangl'd Wood?  My Brothers when they saw me wearied out  With this long way, resolving here to lodge  Under the spreading favour of these Pines,  Stept as they se'd to the next Thicket side  To bring me Berries, or such cooling fruit  As the kind hospitable Woods provide.  They left me then, when the gray-hooded Eev'n  Like a sad Votarist in Palmers weed  Rose from the hindmost wheels of Phoebus wain.                      190  But where they are, and why they came not back,  Is now the labour of my thoughts, 'tis likeliest  They had ingag'd their wandring steps too far,  And envious darknes, e're they could return,  Had stole them from me, els O theevish Night  Why shouldst thou, but for som fellonious end,  In thy dark lantern thus close up the Stars,  That nature hung in Heav'n, and fill'd their Lamps  With everlasting oil, to give due light  To the misled and lonely Travailer?                                 200  This is the place as well as I may guess,  Whence eev'n now the tumult of loud Mirth  Was rife and perfect in my list'ning ear,  Yet nought but single darknes do I find.  What might this be? A thousand fantasies  Begin to throng into my memory  Of calling shapes, and beckning shadows dire,  And airy tongues, that syllable mens names  On Sands and Shoars and desert Wildernesses.  These thoughts may startle well, but not astound                    210  The vertuous mind that ever walks attended  By a strong siding champion Conscience.—  O welcom pure-ey'd Faith, white-handed Hope,  Thou hovering Angel girt with golden wings.  And thou unblemish't form of Chastity,  I see ye visibly and now beleeve  That he, the Supreme good t'whom all things ill  Are but as slavish  officers of vengeance,  Would send a glistring Guardian if need were  To keep my life and honour unassail'd.                              220  Was I deceiv'd, or did a sable cloud  Turn forth her silver lining on the night?  I did not err, there does a sable cloud  Turn forth her silver lining on the night,  And casts a gleam over this tufted Grove.  I cannot hallow to my Brothers, but  Such noise as I can make to be heard farthest  Ile venter, for my new enliv'nd spirits  Prompt me; and they perhaps are not far off.  SONG.  Sweet Echo, sweetest Nymph that liv'st unseen                       230  Within thy airy shell  By slow Meander's margent green,  And in the violet imbroider'd vale  Where the love-lorn Nightingale  Nightly to thee her sad Song mourneth well.  Canst thou not tell me of a gentle Pair  That likest thy Narcissus are?  O if thou have  Hid them in som flowry Cave,  Tell me but where                                                   240  Sweet Queen of  Parly, Daughter of the Sphear,  So maist thou be translated to the skies,  And give resounding grace to all Heav'ns Harmonies.  Co: Can any mortal mixture of Earths mould  Breath such Divine inchanting ravishment?  Sure somthing holy lodges in that brest,  And with these raptures moves the vocal air  To testifie his hidd'n residence;  How sweetly did they float upon the wings  Of silence, through the empty-vaulted night                         250  At every fall smoothing the Raven doune  Of darknes till it smil'd: I have oft heard  My mother Circe with the Sirens three,  Amid'st the flowry-kirtl'd Naiades  Culling their Potent hearbs, and balefull drugs.  Who as they sung, would take the prison'd soul,  And lap it in Elysium, Scylla wept,  And chid her barking waves into attention.  And fell Charybdis murmur'd soft applause:  Yet they in pleasing slumber lull'd the sense,                      260  And in sweet madnes rob'd it of it self,  But such a sacred, and home-felt delight,  Such sober certainty of waking bliss  I never heard till now.  Ile speak to her  And she shall be my Queen.  Hail forren wonder  Whom certain these rough shades did never breed  Unlesse the Goddes that in rurall shrine  Dwell'st here with Pan, or Silvan, by blest Song  Forbidding every bleak unkindly Fog  To touch the prosperous growth of this tall Wood.                   270  La: Nay gentle Shepherd ill is lost that praise  That is addrest to unattending Ears,  Not any boast of skill, but extreme shift  How to regain my sever'd company  Compell'd me to awake the courteous Echo  To give me answer from her mossie Couch.  Co: What chance good Lady hath bereft you thus?  La: Dim darknes, and this heavy Labyrinth.  Co: Could that divide you from neer-ushering guides?  La: They left me weary on a grassie terf.                           280  Co: By falshood, or discourtesie, or why?  La: To seek in vally som cool friendly Spring.  Co: And left your fair side all unguarded Lady?  La: They were but twain, and purpos'd quick return.  Co: Perhaps fore-stalling night prevented them.  La: How easie my misfortune is to hit!  Co:  Imports their loss, beside the present need?  La:  No less then if I should my brothers loose.  Co: Were they of manly prime, or youthful bloom?  La:  As smooth as Hebe's their unrazor'd lips.                      290  Co: Two such I saw, what time the labour'd Oxe  In his loose traces from the furrow came,  And the swink't hedger at his Supper sate;  I saw them under a green mantling vine  That crawls along the side of yon small hill,  Plucking ripe clusters from the tender shoots,  Their port was more then human, as they stood;  I took it for a faery vision  Of som gay creatures of the element  That in the colours of the Rainbow live                             300  And play i'th plighted clouds.  I was aw-strook,  And as I past, I worshipt: if those you seek  It were a journey like the path to Heav'n,  To help you find them.  La:  Gentle villager  What readiest way would bring me to that place?  Co:  Due west it rises from this shrubby point.  La: To find out that, good Shepherd, I suppose,  In such a scant allowance of Star-light,  Would overtask the best Land-Pilots art,  Without the sure guess of well-practiz'd feet,                      310  Co: I know each lane, and every alley green  Dingle, or bushy dell of this wilde Wood,  And every bosky bourn from side to side  My daily walks and ancient neighbourhood,  And if your stray attendance be yet lodg'd,  Or shroud within these limits, I shall know  Ere morrow wake, or the low roosted lark  From her thatch't pallat rowse, if otherwise  I can conduct you Lady to a low  But loyal cottage, where you may be safe                            320  Till further quest.                      La: Shepherd I take thy word,  And trust thy honest offer'd courtesie,  Which oft is sooner found in lowly sheds  With smoaky rafters, then in tapstry Halls  And Courts of Princes, where it first was nam'd,  And yet is most pretended: In a place  Less warranted then this, or less secure  I cannot be, that I should fear to change it.  Eie me blest Providence, and square my triall  To my proportion'd strength.  Shepherd lead on.—                   330  The Two Brothers.  Eld. Bro: Unmuffle ye faint stars, and thou fair Moon  That wontst to love the travailers benizon,  Stoop thy pale visage through an amber cloud,  And disinherit Chaos, that raigns here  In double night of darknes, and of shades;  Or if your influence be quite damm'd up  With black usurping mists, som gentle taper  Though a rush Candle from the wicker hole  Of som clay habitation visit us  With thy long levell'd rule of streaming light.                     340  And thou shalt be our star of Arcady,  Or Tyrian Cynosure.                      2. Bro: Or if our eyes  Be barr'd that happines, might we but hear  The folded flocks pen'd in their watled cotes,  Or sound of pastoral reed with oaten stops,  Or whistle from the Lodge, or village cock  Count the night watches to his feathery Dames,  'Twould be som solace yet, som little chearing  In this close dungeon of innumerous bowes.  But O that haples virgin our lost sister                            350  Where may she wander now, whether betake her  From the chill dew, amongst rude burrs and thistles?  Perhaps som cold bank is her boulster now  Or 'gainst the rugged bark of som broad Elm  Leans her unpillow'd head fraught with sad fears.  What if in wild amazement, and affright,  Or while we speak within the direfull grasp  Of Savage hunger, or of Savage heat?  Eld. Bro: Peace brother, be not over-exquisite  To cast the fashion of uncertain evils;                             360  For grant they be so, while they rest unknown,  What need a man forestall his date of grief  And run to meet what he would most avoid?  Or if they be but false alarms of Fear,  How bitter is such self delusion?  I do not think my sister so to seek,  Or so unprincipl'd in vertues book,  And the sweet peace that goodnes boosoms ever,  As that the single want of light and noise  (Not being in danger, as I trust she is not)                        370  Could stir the constant mood of her calm thoughts,  And put them into mis-becoming plight.  Vertue could see to do what vertue would  By her own radiant light, though Sun and Moon  Were in the salt sea sunk.  And Wisdoms self  Oft seeks to sweet retired Solitude,  Where with her best nurse Contemplation  She plumes her feathers and lets grow her wings  That in the various bustle of resort  Were all too ruffled and sometimes impaired.                        380  He that has light within his own deer brest  May sit i'th center, and enjoy bright day,  But he that hides a dark soul, and foul thoughts  Benighted walks under the mid-day Sun;  Himself is his own dungeon.  2. Bro: Tis most true  That musing meditation most affects  The pensive secrecy of desert cell,  Far from the cheerfull haunt of men, and herds,  And sits as safe as in a Senat house,  For who would rob a Hermit of his Weeds,                            390  His few Books, or his Beads, or Maple Dish,  Or do his gray hairs any violence?  But beauty like the fair Hesperian Tree  Laden with blooming gold, had need the guard  Of dragon watch with uninchanted eye,  To save her blossoms, and defend her fruit  From the rash hand of bold Incontinence.  You may as well spred out the unsun'd heaps  Of Misers treasure by an out-laws den,  And tell me it is safe, as bid me hope                              400  Danger will wink on Opportunity,  And let a single helpless maiden pass  Uninjur'd in this wilde surrounding wast.  Of night, or lonelines it recks me not,  I fear the dred events that dog them both,  Lest som ill greeting touch attempt the person  Of our unowned sister.  Eld. Bro: I do not, brother,  Inferr, as if I thought my sisters state  Secure without all doubt, or controversie:  Yet where an equall poise of hope and fear                          410  Does arbitrate th'event, my nature is  That I encline to hope, rather then fear,  And gladly banish squint suspicion.  My sister is not so defenceless left  As you imagine, she has a hidden strength  Which you remember not.  2. Bro: What hidden strength,  Unless the strength of Heav'n, if you mean that?  ELD Bro: I mean that too, but yet a hidden strength  Which if Heav'n gave it, may be term'd her own:  'Tis chastity, my brother, chastity:                               420  She that has that, is clad in compleat steel,  And like a quiver'd Nymph with Arrows keen  May trace huge Forests, and unharbour'd Heaths,  Infamous Hills, and sandy perilous wildes,  Where through the sacred rayes of Chastity,  No savage fierce, Bandite, or mountaneer  Will dare to soyl her Virgin purity,  Yea there, where very desolation dwels  By grots, and caverns shag'd with horrid shades,  She may pass on with unblench't majesty,                            430  Be it not don in pride, or in presumption.  Som say no evil thing that walks by night  In fog, or fire, by lake, or moorish fen,  Blew meager Hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost,  That breaks his magick chains at curfeu time,  No goblin, or swart faery of the mine,  Hath hurtfull power o're true virginity.  Do ye beleeve me yet, or shall I call  Antiquity from the old Schools of Greece  To testifie the arms of Chastity?                                   440  Hence had the huntress Dian her dred bow  Fair silver-shafted Queen for ever chaste,  Wherwith she tam'd the brinded lioness  And spotted mountain pard, but set at nought  The frivolous bolt of Cupid, gods and men  Fear'd her stern frown, and she was queen oth' Woods.  What was that snaky-headed Gorgon sheild  That wise Minerva wore, unconquer'd Virgin,  Wherwith she freez'd her foes to congeal'd stone?  But rigid looks of Chast austerity,                                 450  And noble grace that dash't brute violence  With sudden adoration, and blank aw.  So dear to Heav'n is Saintly chastity,  That when a soul is found sincerely so,  A thousand liveried Angels lacky her,  Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt,  And in cleer dream, and solemn vision  Tell her of things that no gross ear can hear,  Till oft convers with heav'nly habitants  Begin to cast a beam on th'outward shape,                           460  The unpolluted temple of the mind.  And turns it by degrees to the souls essence,  Till all be made immortal: but when lust  By unchaste looks, loose gestures, and foul talk,  But most by leud and lavish act of sin,  Lets in defilement to the inward parts,  The soul grows clotted by contagion,  Imbodies, and imbrutes, till she quite loose  The divine property of her first being.  Such are those thick and gloomy shadows damp                        470  Oft seen in Charnell vaults, and Sepulchers  Lingering, and sitting by a new made grave,  As loath to leave the body that it lov'd,  And link't it self by carnal sensualty  To a degenerate and degraded state.  2. Bro: How charming is divine Philosophy!  Not harsh, and crabbed as dull fools suppose,  But musical as is Apollo's lute,  And a perpetual feast of nectar'd sweets,  Where no crude surfet raigns.                                Eld. Bro: List, list, I hear          480  Som far off hallow break the silent Air.  2.  Bro: Me thought so too; what should it be?  Eld. Bro: For certain  Either som one like us night-founder'd here,  Or els som neighbour Wood-man, or at worst,  Som roaving robber calling to his fellows.  2. Bro: Heav'n keep my sister, agen agen and neer,  Best draw, and stand upon our guard.  Eld. Bro: Ile hallow,  If he be friendly he comes well, if not,  Defence is a good cause, and Heav'n be for us.  [Enter] The attendant Spirit habited like a Shepherd.  That hallow I should know, what are you? speak;                     490  Com not too neer, you fall on iron stakes else.  Spir: What voice is that, my young Lord? speak agen.  2. Bro: O brother, 'tis my father Shepherd sure.  Eld. Bro: Thyrsis? Whose artful strains have oft delaid  The huddling brook to hear his madrigal,  And sweeten'd every muskrose of the dale,  How cam'st thou here good Swain? hath any ram  Slip't from the fold, or young Kid lost his dam,  Or straggling weather the pen't flock forsook?  How couldst thou find this dark sequester'd nook?                   500  Spir: O my lov'd masters heir, and his next joy,  I came not here on such a trivial toy  As a stray'd Ewe, or to pursue the stealth  Of pilfering Woolf, not all the fleecy wealth  That doth enrich these Downs, is worth a thought  To this my errand, and the care it brought.  But O my Virgin Lady, where is she?  How chance she is not in your company?  Eld. Bro: To tell thee sadly Shepherd, without blame  Or our neglect, we lost her as we came.                             510  Spir: Ay me unhappy then my fears are true.  Eld. Bro: What fears good Thyrsis? Prethee briefly shew.  Spir: Ile tell ye, 'tis not vain or fabulous,  (Though so esteem'd by shallow ignorance)  What the sage Poets taught by th' heav'nly Muse,  Storied of old in high immortal vers  Of dire Chimera's and inchanted Iles,  And rifted Rocks whose entrance leads to hell,  For such there be, but unbelief is blind.  Within the navil of this hideous Wood,                              520  Immur'd in cypress shades a Sorcerer dwels  Of Bacchus, and of Circe born, great Comus,  Deep skill'd in all his mothers witcheries,  And here to every thirsty wanderer,  By sly enticement gives his banefull cup,  With many murmurs mixt, whose pleasing poison  The visage quite transforms of him that drinks,  And the inglorious likenes of a beast  Fixes instead, unmoulding reasons mintage  Character'd in the Face; this have I learn't                        530  Tending my flocks hard by i'th hilly crofts,  That brow this bottom glade, whence night by night  He and his monstrous rout are heard to howl  Like stabl'd wolves, or tigers at their prey,  Doing abhorred rites to Hecate  In their obscured haunts of inmost bowres.  Yet have they many baits, and guilefull spells  To inveigle and invite th' unwary sense  Of them that pass unweeting by the way.  This evening late by then the chewing flocks                        540  Had ta'n their supper on the savoury Herb  Of Knot-grass dew-besprent, and were in fold,  I sate me down to watch upon a bank  With Ivy canopied, and interwove  With flaunting Hony-suckle, and began  Wrapt in a pleasing fit of melancholy  To meditate my rural minstrelsie,  Till fancy had her fill, but ere a close  The wonted roar was up amidst the Woods,  And fill'd the Air with barbarous dissonance,                       550  At which I ceas' t, and listen'd them a while,  Till an unusuall stop of sudden silence  Gave respit to the drowsie frighted steeds  That draw the litter of close-curtain'd sleep.  At last a soft and solemn breathing sound  Rose like a steam of rich distill'd Perfumes,  And stole upon the Air, that even Silence  Was took e're she was ware, and wish't she might  Deny her nature, and be never more  Still to be so displac't.  I was all eare,                          560  And took in strains that might create a soul  Under the ribs of Death, but O ere long  Too well I did perceive it was the voice  Of my most honour'd Lady, your dear sister.  Amaz'd I stood, harrow'd with grief and fear,  And O poor hapless Nightingale thought I,  How sweet thou sing'st, how neer the deadly snare!  Then down the Lawns I ran with headlong hast  Through paths, and turnings oft'n trod by day,  Till guided by mine ear I found the place                           570  Where that damn'd wisard hid in sly disguise  (For so by certain signes I knew) had met  Already, ere my best speed could praevent,  The aidless innocent Lady his wish't prey,  Who gently ask't if he had seen such two,  Supposing him som neighbour villager;  Longer I durst not stay, but soon I guess't  Ye were the two she mean't, with that I sprung  Into swift flight, till I had found you here,  But furder know I not.                        2. Bro: O night and shades,                   580  How are ye joyn'd with hell in triple knot  Against th'unarmed weakness of one Virgin  Alone, and helpless!  Is this the confidence  You gave me Brother?                       Eld. Bro: Yes, and keep it still,  Lean on it safely, not a period  Shall be unsaid for me: against the threats  Of malice or of sorcery, or that power  Which erring men call Chance, this I hold firm,  Vertue may be assail'd, but never hurt,  Surpriz'd by unjust force, but not enthrall'd,                      590  Yea even that which mischief meant most harm,  Shall in the happy trial prove most glory.  But evil on it self shall back recoyl,  And mix no more with goodness, when at last  Gather'd like scum, and setl'd to it self  It shall be in eternal restless change  Self-fed, and self-consum'd, if this fail,  The pillar'd firmament is rott'nness,  And earths base built on stubble.  But corn let's on.  Against th' opposing will and arm of Heav'n                         600  May never this just sword be lifted up,  But for that damn'd magician, let him be girt  With all the greisly legions that troop  Under the sooty flag of Acheron,  Harpyies and Hydra's, or all the monstrous forms  'Twixt Africa and Inde, Ile find him out,  And force him to restore his purchase back,  Or drag him by the curls, to a foul death,  Curs'd as his life.  Spir: Alas good ventrous youth,  I love thy courage yet, and bold Emprise,                           610  But here thy sword can do thee little stead,  Farr other arms, and other weapons must  Be those that quell the might of hellish charms,  He with his bare wand can unthred thy joynts,  And crumble all thy sinews.  Eld. Bro: Why prethee Shepherd  How durst thou then thy self approach so neer  As to make this relation?  Spir: Care and utmost shifts  How to secure the lady from surprisal,  Brought to my mind a certain Shepherd Lad  Of small regard to see to, yet well skill'd                         620  In every vertuous plant and healing herb  That spreds her verdant leaf to th'morning ray,  He lov'd me well, and oft would beg me sing,  Which when I did, he on the tender grass  Would sit, and hearken even to extasie,  And in requitall ope his leather'n scrip,  And shew me simples of a thousand names  Telling their strange and vigorous faculties;  Amongst the rest a small unsightly root,  But of divine effect, he cull'd me out;                             630  The leaf was darkish, and had prickles on it,  But in another Countrey, as he said,  Bore a bright golden flowre, but not in this soyl:  Unknown, and like esteem'd, and the dull swayn  Treads on it daily with his clouted shoon,  And yet more med'cinal is it then that Moly  That Hermes once to wise Ulysses gave;  He call'd it Haemony, and gave it me,  And bad me keep it as of sov'ran use  'Gainst all inchantments, mildew blast, or damp                     640  Or gastly furies apparition;  I purs't it up, but little reck'ning made,  Till now that this extremity compell'd,  But now I find it true; for by this means  I knew the foul inchanter though disguis'd,  Enter'd the very lime-twigs of his spells,  And yet came off: if you have this about you  (As I will give you when we go) you may  Boldly assault the necromancers hall;  Where if he be, with dauntless hardihood,                           650  And brandish't blade rush on him, break his glass,  And shed the lushious liquor on the ground,  But sease his wand, though he and his curst crew  Feirce signe of battail make, and menace high,  Or like the sons of Vulcan vomit smoak,  Yet will they soon retire, if he but shrink.  Eld. Bro: Thyrsis lead on apace, Ile follow thee,  And som good angel bear a sheild before us.  The scene changes to a stately Palace, set out with all manner of  deliciousness; Soft Musick, Tables spred with all dainties.  Comus appears with his rabble, and the Lady set in an inchanted  Chair, to whom he offers his Glass, which she puts by, and goes  about to rise.  COMUS: Nay Lady sit; if I but wave this wand  Your nerves are all chain'd up in Alablaster,                       660  And you a statue; or as Daphne was  Root-bound, that fled Apollo.  La:  Fool do not boast,  Thou canst not touch the freedom of my minde  With all thy charms, although this corporal rinde  Thou haste immanacl'd, while Heav'n sees good.  Co: Why are you vext Lady? why do you frown  Here dwell no frowns, nor anger, from these gates  Sorrow flies farr: See here be all the pleasures  That fancy can beget on youthfull thoughts,  When the fresh blood grows lively, and returns                      670  Brisk as the April buds in Primrose-season.  And first behold this cordial Julep here  That flames, and dances in his crystal bounds  With spirits of balm, and fragrant Syrops mixt.  Not that Nepenthes which the wife of Thone,  In Egypt gave to Jove-born Helena  Is of such power to stir up joy as this,  To life so friendly, or so cool to thirst.  Why should you be so cruel to your self,  And to those dainty limms which nature lent                         680  For gentle usage, and soft delicacy?  But you invert the cov'nants of her trust,  And harshly deal like an ill borrower  With that which you receiv'd on other terms,  Scorning the unexempt condition  By which all mortal frailty must subsist,  Refreshment after toil, ease after pain,  That have been tir'd all day without repast,  And timely rest have wanted, but fair Virgin  This will restore all soon.  La: 'Twill not false traitor,                                       690  'Twill not restore the truth and honesty  That thou hast banish't from thy tongue with lies  Was this the cottage, and the safe abode  Thou told'st me of? What grim aspects are these  These oughly-headed Monsters? Mercy guard me!  Hence with thy brew'd inchantments, foul deceit  Hast thou betrai'd my credulous innocence  With visor'd falshood, and base forgery,  And wouldst thou seek again to trap me here  With lickerish baits fit to ensnare a brute?                        700  Were it a draft for Juno when she banquets,  I would not taste thy treasonous offer; none  But such as are good men can give good things,  And that which is not good, is not delicious  To a well-govern'd and wise appetite.  Co: O foolishnes of men! that lend their ears  To those budge doctors of the Stoick Furr,  And fetch their precepts from the Cynick Tub,  Praising the lean and sallow Abstinence.  Wherefore did Nature powre her bounties forth,                      710  With such a full and unwithdrawing hand,  Covering the earth with odours, fruits, and flocks,  Thronging the Seas with spawn innumerable,  But all to please, and sate the curious taste?  And set to work millions of spinning Worms,  That in their green shops weave the smooth-hair'd silk  To deck her Sons, and that no corner might  Be vacant of her plenty, in her own loyns  She hutch't th'all-worshipt ore, and precious gems  To store her children with; if all the world                       720  Should in a pet of temperance feed on Pulse,  Drink the clear stream, and nothing wear but Freize,  Th'all-giver would be unthank't, would be unprais'd,  Not half his riches known, and yet despis'd,  And we should serve him as a grudging master,  As a penurious niggard of his wealth,  And live like Natures bastards, not her sons,  Who would be quite surcharged with her own weight,  And strangl'd with her waste fertility;  Th'earth cumber'd, and the wing'd air dark't with plumes.           730  The herds would over-multitude their Lords,  The Sea o'refraught would swell, and th'unsought diamonds  Would so emblaze the forhead of the Deep,  And so bested with Stars, that they below  Would grow inur'd to light, and com at last  To gaze upon the Sun with shameless brows.  List Lady be not coy, and be not cosen'd  With that same vaunted name Virginity,  Beauty is natures coyn, must not be hoorded,  But must be currant, and the good thereof                           740  Consists in mutual and partak'n bliss,  Unsavoury in th'injoyment of it self  If you let slip time, like a neglected rose  It withers on the stalk with languish't head.  Beauty is natures brag, and must be shown  In courts, at feasts, and high solemnities  Where most may wonder at the workmanship;  It is for homely features to keep home,  They had their name thence; course complexions  And cheeks of sorry grain will serve to ply                         750  The sampler, and to teize the huswifes wooll.  What need a vermeil-tinctured lip for that  Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the Morn?  There was another meaning in these gifts,  Think what, and be adviz'd, you are but young yet.  La: I had not thought to have unlockt my lips  In this unhallow'd air, but that this Jugler  Would think to charm my judgement, as mine eyes,  Obtruding false rules pranckt in reasons garb.  I hate when vice can bolt her arguments,                            760  And vertue has no tongue to check her pride:  Impostor do not charge most innocent nature,  As if she would her children should be riotous  With her abundance, she good cateress  Means her provision onely to the good  That live according to her sober laws,  And holy dictate of spare Temperance:  If every just man that now pines with want  Had but a moderate and beseeming share  Of that which lewdly-pamper'd Luxury                                770  Now heaps upon som few with vast excess,  Natures full blessings would be well dispenc't  In unsuperfluous eeven proportion,  And she no whit encomber'd with her store,  And then the giver would be better thank't,  His praise due paid, for swinish gluttony  Ne're looks to Heav'n amidst his gorgeous feast,  But with besotted base ingratitude  Cramms, and blasphemes his feeder. Shall I go on?  Or have I said anough? To him that dares                            780  Arm his profane tongue with contemptuous words  Against the Sun-clad power of Chastity,  Fain would I somthing say, yet to what end?  Thou hast nor Eare, nor Soul to apprehend  The sublime notion, and high mystery  That must be utter'd to unfold the sage  And serious doctrine of Virginity,  And thou art worthy that thou shouldst not know  More happiness then this thy present lot.  Enjoy your deer Wit, and gay Rhetorick                              790  That hath so well been taught her dazling fence,  Thou art not fit to hear thy self convinc't;  Yet should I try, the uncontrouled worth  Of this pure cause would kindle my rap't spirits  To such a flame of sacred vehemence  That dumb things would be mov'd to sympathize,  And the brute Earth would lend her nerves, and shake,  Till all thy magick structures rear'd so high,  Were shatter'd into heaps o're thy false head.  Co:  She fables not, I feel that I do fear                          800  Her words set off by som superior power;  And though not mortal, yet a cold shuddring dew  Dips me all o're, as when the wrath of Jove  Speaks thunder, and the chains of Erebus  To som of Saturns crew.  I must dissemble,  And try her yet more strongly.  Com, no more,  This is meer moral babble, and direct  Against the canon laws of our foundation;  I must not suffer this, yet 'tis but the lees  And setlings of a melancholy blood;                                 810  But this will cure all streight, one sip of this  Will bathe the drooping spirits in delight  Beyond the bliss of dreams.  Be wise, and taste.—  The brothers rush in with Swords drawn, wrest his Glass out of  his hand, and break it against the ground; his rout make signe of  resistance, but are all driven in; The attendant Spirit comes in.  Spir: What, have you let the false enchanter scape?  O ye mistook, ye should have snatcht his wand  And bound him fast; without his rod revers't,  And backward mutters of dissevering power,  We cannot free the Lady that sits here  In stony fetters fixt, and motionless;  Yet stay, be not disturb'd, now I bethink me                        820  Som other means I have which may he us'd  Which once of Meliboeus old I learnt  The soothest Shepherd that ere pip't on plains.  There is a gentle Nymph not farr from hence,  That with moist curb sways the smooth Severn stream,  Sabrina is her name, a Virgin pure,  Whilom she was the daughter of Locrine,  That had the Scepter from his father Brute.  The guiltless damsel flying the mad pursuit  Of her enraged stepdam Guendolen,                                   830  Commended her fair innocence to the flood  That stay'd her flight with his cross-flowing course,  The water Nymphs that in the bottom plaid,  Held up their pearled wrists and took her in,  Bearing her straight to aged Nereus Hall,  Who piteous of her woes, rear'd her lank head,  And gave her to his daughters to imbathe  In nectar'd lavers strew'd with Asphodil,  And through the porch and inlet of each sense  Dropt in Ambrosial Oils till she reviv'd,                           840  And underwent a quick immortal change  Made Goddess of the River; still she retains  Her maid'n gentlenes, and oft at Eeve  Visits the herds along the twilight meadows,  Helping all urchin blasts, and ill luck signes  That the shrewd medling Elfe delights to make,  Which she with pretious viold liquors heals.  For which the Shepherds at their festivals  Carrol her goodnes lowd in rustick layes,  And throw sweet garland wreaths into her stream                     850  Of pancies, pinks, and gaudy Daffadils.  And, as the old Swain said, she can unlock  The clasping charms, and thaw the numming spell,  If she be right invok't in warbled Song,  For maid'nhood she loves, and will be swift  To aid a Virgin, such as was her self  In hard besetting need, this will I try  And adde the power of som adjuring verse.  SONG.  Sabrina fair  Listen when thou art sitting                                        860  Under the glassie, cool, translucent wave,  In twisted braids of Lillies knitting  The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair,  Listen for dear honour's sake,  Goddess of the silver lake,  Listen and save.  Listen and appear to us  In name of great Oceanus,  By the earth-shaking Neptune's mace,  And Tethys grave majestick pace,                                    870  By hoary Nereus wrincled look,  And the Carpathian wisards hook,  By scaly Tritons winding shell,  And old sooth-saying Glaucus spell,  By Leucothea's lovely hands,  And her son that rules the strands,  By Thetis tinsel-slipper'd feet,  And the Songs of Sirens sweet,  By dead Parthenope's dear tomb,  And fair Ligea's golden comb,                                       880  Wherwith she sits on diamond rocks  Sleeking her soft alluring locks,  By all the Nymphs that nightly dance  Upon thy streams with wily glance,  Rise, rise, and heave thy rosie head  From thy coral-pav'n bed,  And bridle in thy headlong wave,  Till thou our summons answered have.  Listen and save.  Sabrina rises, attended by water-Nymphes, and sings.  Sab: By the rushy-fringed bank,                                     890  Where grows the Willow and the Osier dank,  My sliding Chariot stayes,  Thick set with Agat, and the azurn sheen  Of Turkis blew, and Emrauld green  That in the channell strayes,  Whilst from off the waters fleet  Thus I set my printless feet  O're the Cowslips Velvet head,  That bends not as I tread,  Gentle swain at thy request                                         900  I am here.  Spir: Goddess dear  We implore thy powerful hand  To undo the charmed band  Of true Virgin here distrest,  Through the force, and through the wile  Of unblest inchanter vile.  Sab: Shepherd 'tis my office best  To help insnared chastity;  Brightest Lady look on me,                                          910  Thus I sprinkle on thy brest  Drops that from my fountain pure,  I have kept of pretious cure,  Thrice upon thy fingers tip,  Thrice upon thy rubied lip,  Next this marble venom'd seat  Smear'd with gumms of glutenous heat  I touch with chaste palms moist and cold,  Now the spell hath lost his hold;  And I must haste ere morning hour                                   920  To wait in Amphitrite's bowr.  Sabrina descends, and the Lady rises out of her seat.  Spir: Virgin, daughter of Locrine  Sprung of old Anchises line,  May thy brimmed waves for this  Their full tribute never miss  From a thousand petty rills,  That tumble down the snowy hills:  Summer drouth, or singed air  Never scorch thy tresses fair,  Nor wet Octobers torrent flood                                      930  Thy molten crystal fill with mudd,  May thy billows rowl ashoar  The beryl, and the golden ore,  May thy lofty head be crown'd  With many a tower and terrass round,  And here and there thy banks upon  With Groves of myrrhe, and cinnamon.  Com Lady while Heaven lends us grace,  Let us fly this cursed place,  Lest the Sorcerer us intice                                         940  With som other new device.  Not a waste, or needless sound  Till we com to holier ground,  I shall be your faithfull guide  Through this gloomy covert wide,  And not many furlongs thence  Is your Fathers residence,  Where this night are met in state  Many a friend to gratulate  His wish't presence, and beside                                     950  All the Swains that there abide,  With Jiggs, and rural dance resort,  We shall catch them at their sport,  And our sudden coming there  Will double all their mirth and chere;  Com let us haste, the Stars grow high,  But night sits monarch yet in the mid sky.  The Scene changes, presenting Ludlow Town and the President  Castle, then com in Countrey-Dancers, after them the attendant  Spirit, with the two Brothers and the Lady.  SONG.  Spir: Back Shepherds, back, anough your play,  Till next Sun-shine holiday,  Here be without duck or nod                                         960  Other trippings to be trod  Of lighter toes, and such Court guise  As Mercury did first devise  With the mincing Dryades  On the Lawns, and on the Leas.  This second Song presents them to their father and mother.  Noble Lord, and Lady bright,  I have brought ye new delight,  Here behold so goodly grown  Three fair branches of your own,  Heav'n hath timely tri'd their youth.                               970  Their faith, their patience, and their truth  And sent them here through hard assays  With a crown of deathless Praise,  To triumph in victorious dance  O're sensual folly, and Intemperance.  The dances ended, the Spirit Epiloguizes.  Spir: To the Ocean now I fly,  And those happy climes that ly  Where day never shuts his eye,  Up in the broad fields of the sky:  There I suck the liquid ayr                                         980  All amidst the Gardens fair  Of Hesperus, and his daughters three  That sing about the golden tree:  Along the crisped shades and bowres  Revels the spruce and jocond Spring,  The Graces, and the rosie-boosom'd Howres,  Thither all their bounties bring,  That there eternal Summer dwels,  And West winds, with musky wing  About the cedar'n alleys fling                                      990  Nard, and Cassia's balmy smels.  Iris there with humid bow,  Waters the odorous banks that blow  Flowers of more mingled hew  Then her purfl'd scarf can shew,  And drenches with Elysian dew  (List mortals, if your ears be true)  Beds of Hyacinth, and roses  Where young Adonis oft reposes,  Waxing well of his deep wound                                      1000  In slumber soft, and on the ground  Sadly sits th' Assyrian Queen;  But far above in spangled sheen  Celestial Cupid her fam'd son advanc't,  Holds his dear Psyche sweet intranc't  After her wandring labours long,  Till free consent the gods among  Make her his eternal Bride,  And from her fair unspotted side  Two blissful twins are to be born,  Youth and Joy; so Jove hath sworn.                                 1010  But now my task is smoothly don,  I can fly, or I can run  Quickly to the green earths end,  Where the bow'd welkin slow doth bend,  And from thence can soar as soon  To the corners of the Moon.  Mortals that would follow me,  Love vertue, she alone is free,  She can teach ye how to clime                                      1020  Higher then the Spheary chime;  Or if Vertue feeble were,  Heav'n it self would stoop to her.  Notes:  43 ye] you  1673  167 omitted 1673  168, 9 Thus 1637. Manuscript reads—  but heere she comes I fairly step aside  & hearken, if I may, her buisnesse heere.  1673 reads—  And hearken, if I may her business hear.  But here she comes, I fairly step aside.  474 sensualty] sensuality 1673. Manuscript also reads sensualtie,  as the metre requires.  493 father] So also 1673. Manuscript reads father's  547 meditate] meditate upon 1673  553 drowsie frighted] Manuscript reads drowsie flighted.  556 steam] stream 1673  580 furder] further 1673  743 In the manuscript, which reads—  If you let slip time like an neglected rose  a circle has been drawn round the an, but probably not by Milton.  780 anough] anow 1673





POEMS ADDED IN THE 1673 EDITION.





ANNO AETATIS 17. ON THE DEATH OF A FAIR INFANT DYING OF ACOUGH.

I  O FAIREST flower no sooner blown but blasted,  Soft silken Primrose fading timelesslie,  Summers chief honour if thou hadst outlasted  Bleak winters force that made thy blossome drie;  For he being amorous on that lovely die  That did thy cheek envermeil, thought to kiss  But kill'd alas, and then bewayl'd his fatal bliss.  II  For since grim Aquilo his charioter  By boistrous rape th' Athenian damsel got,  He thought it toucht his Deitie full neer,                           10  If likewise he some fair one wedded not,  Thereby to wipe away th' infamous blot,  Of long-uncoupled bed, and childless eld,  Which 'mongst the wanton gods a foul reproach was held.  III  So mounting up in ycie-pearled carr,  Through middle empire of the freezing aire  He wanderd long, till thee he spy'd from farr,  There ended was his quest, there ceast his care  Down he descended from his Snow-soft chaire,  But all unwares with his cold-kind embrace                           20  Unhous'd thy Virgin Soul from her fair biding place.  IV  Yet art thou not inglorious in thy fate;  For so Apollo, with unweeting hand  Whilome did slay his dearly-loved mate  Young Hyacinth born on Eurotas' strand,  Young Hyacinth the pride of Spartan land;  But then transform'd him to a purple flower  Alack that so to change thee winter had no power.  V  Yet can I not perswade me thou art dead  Or that thy coarse corrupts in earths dark wombe,                    30  Or that thy beauties lie in wormie bed,  Hid from the world in a low delved tombe;  Could Heav'n for pittie thee so strictly doom?  O no! for something in thy face did shine  Above mortalitie that shew'd thou wast divine.  VI  Resolve me then oh Soul most surely blest  (If so it be that thou these plaints dost hear)  Tell me bright Spirit where e're thou hoverest  Whether above that high first-moving Spheare  Or in the Elisian fields (if such there were.)                       40  Oh say me true if thou wert mortal wight  And why from us so quickly thou didst take thy flight.  VII  Wert thou some Starr which from the ruin'd roofe  Of shak't Olympus by mischance didst fall;  Which carefull Jove in natures true behoofe  Took up, and in fit place did reinstall?  Or did of late earths Sonnes besiege the wall  Of sheenie Heav'n, and thou some goddess fled  Amongst us here below to hide thy nectar'd head  VIII  Or wert thou that just Maid who once before                          50  Forsook the hated earth, O tell me sooth  And cam'st again to visit us once more?  Or wert thou that sweet smiling Youth!  Or that c[r]own'd Matron sage white-robed Truth?  Or any other of that heav'nly brood  Let down in clowdie throne to do the world some good.  Note: 53 Or wert thou] Or wert thou Mercy—conjectured by  John Heskin Ch. Ch. Oxon. from Ode on Nativity, st. 15.  IX  Or wert thou of the golden-winged hoast,  Who having clad thy self in humane weed,  To earth from thy praefixed seat didst poast,  And after short abode flie back with speed,                          60  As if to shew what creatures Heav'n doth breed,  Thereby to set the hearts of men on fire  To scorn the sordid world, and unto Heav'n aspire.  X  But oh why didst thou not stay here below  To bless us with thy heav'n-lov'd innocence,  To slake his wrath whom sin hath made our foe  To turn Swift-rushing black perdition hence,  Or drive away the slaughtering  pestilence,  To stand 'twixt us and our deserved smart  But thou canst best perform that office where thou art.              70  XI  Then thou the mother of so sweet a child  Her false imagin'd loss cease to lament,  And wisely learn to curb thy sorrows wild;  Think what a present thou to God hast sent,  And render him with patience what he lent;  This if thou do he will an off-spring give,  That till the worlds last-end shall make thy name to live.





ANNO AETATIS 19. AT A VACATION EXERCISE IN THE COLLEDGE

Part Latin, part English. The Latin speeches ended, theEnglish thus began.

HAIL native Language, that by sinews weak  Didst move my first endeavouring tongue to speak,  And mad'st imperfect words with childish tripps,  Half unpronounc't, slide through my infant-lipps,  Driving dum silence from the portal dore,  Where he had mutely sate two years before:  Here I salute thee and thy pardon ask,  That now I use thee in my latter task:  Small loss it is that thence can come unto thee,  I know my tongue but little Grace can do thee:                       10  Thou needst not be ambitious to be first,  Believe me I have thither packt the worst:  And, if it happen as I did forecast,  The daintiest dishes shall be serv'd up last.  I pray thee then deny me not thy aide  For this same small neglect that I have made:  But haste thee strait to do me once a Pleasure,  And from thy wardrope bring thy chiefest treasure;  Not those new fangled toys, and triming slight  Which takes our late fantasticks with delight,                       20  But cull those richest Robes, and gay'st attire  Which deepest Spirits, and choicest Wits desire:  I have some naked thoughts that rove about  And loudly knock to have their passage out;  And wearie of their place do only stay  Till thou hast deck't them in thy best aray;  That so they may without suspect or fears  Fly swiftly to this fair Assembly's ears;  Yet I had rather if I were to chuse,  Thy service in some graver subject use,                              30  Such as may make thee search thy coffers round  Before thou cloath my fancy in fit sound:  Such where the deep transported mind may soare  Above the wheeling poles, and at Heav'ns dore  Look in, and see each blissful Deitie  How he before the thunderous throne doth lie,  Listening to what unshorn Apollo sings  To th'touch of golden wires, while Hebe brings  Immortal Nectar to her Kingly Sire:  Then passing through the Spherse of watchful fire,                   40  And mistie Regions of wide air next under,  And hills of Snow and lofts of piled Thunder,  May tell at length how green-ey'd Neptune raves,  In Heav'ns defiance mustering all his waves;  Then sing of secret things that came to pass  When Beldam Nature in her cradle was;  And last of Kings and Queens and Hero's old,  Such as the wise Demodocus once told  In solemn Songs at King Alcinous feast,  While sad Ulisses soul and all the rest                              50  Are held with his melodious harmonie  In willing chains and sweet captivitie.  But fie my wandring Muse how thou dost stray!  Expectance calls thee now another way,  Thou know'st it must be now thy only bent  To keep in compass of thy Predicament:  Then quick about thy purpos'd business come,  That to the next I may resign my Roome  Then Ens is represented as Father of the Predicaments his ten  Sons, whereof the Eldest stood for Substance with his Canons,  which Ens thus speaking, explains.  Good luck befriend thee Son; for at thy birth  The Faiery Ladies daunc't upon the hearth;                           60  Thy drowsie Nurse hath sworn she did them spie  Come tripping to the Room where thou didst lie;  And sweetly singing round about thy Bed  Strew all their blessings on thy sleeping Head.  She heard them give thee this, that thou should'st still  From eyes of mortals walk invisible,  Yet there is something that doth force my fear,  For once it was my dismal hap to hear  A Sybil old, bow-bent with crooked age,  That far events full wisely could presage,  And in Times long and dark Prospective Glass  Fore-saw what future dayes should bring to pass,  Your Son, said she, (nor can you it prevent)  Shall subject be to many an Accident.  O're all his Brethren he shall Reign as King,  Yet every one shall make him underling,  And those that cannot live from him asunder  Ungratefully shall strive to keep him under,  In worth and excellence he shall out-go them,  Yet being above them, he shall be below them;                        80  From others he shall stand in need of nothing,  Yet on his Brothers shall depend for Cloathing.  To find a Foe it shall not be his hap,  And peace shall lull him in her flowry lap;  Yet shall he live in strife, and at his dore  Devouring war shall never cease to roare;  Yea it shall be his natural property  To harbour those that are at enmity.  What power, what force, what mighty spell, if not  Your learned hands, can loose this Gordian knot?                     90  The next Quantity and Quality, spake in Prose, then Relation  was call'd by his Name.  Rivers arise; whether thou be the Son,  Of utmost Tweed, or Oose, or gulphie Dun,  Or Trent, who like some earth-born Giant spreads  His thirty Armes along the indented Meads,  Or sullen Mole that runneth underneath,  Or Severn swift, guilty of Maidens death,  Or Rockie Avon, or of Sedgie Lee,  Or Coaly Tine, or antient hallowed Dee,  Or Humber loud that keeps the Scythians Name,  Or Medway smooth, or Royal Towred Thame.                           100  The rest was Prose.





THE FIFTH ODE OF HORACE. LIB. I.

Quis multa gracilis te puer in Rosa  Rendred almost word for word without Rhyme according to the  Latin Measure, as near as the Language permit.  WHAT slender Youth bedew'd with liquid odours  Courts thee on Roses in some pleasant Cave,  Pyrrha for whom bind'st thou  In wreaths thy golden Hair,  Plain in thy neatness; O how oft shall he  On Faith and changed Gods complain: and Seas  Rough with black winds and storms  Unwonted shall admire:  Who now enjoyes thee credulous, all Gold,  Who alwayes vacant, alwayes amiable                                  10  Hopes thee; of flattering gales  Unmindfull.  Hapless they  To whom thou untry'd seem'st fair.  Me in my vow'd  Picture the sacred wall declares t' have hung  My dank and dropping weeds  To the stern God of Sea.  [The Latin text follows.]





SONNETS.

XI  A Book was writ of late call'd Tetrachordon;  And wov'n close, both matter, form and stile;  The Subject new: it walk'd the Town a while,  Numbring good intellects; now seldom por'd on.  Cries the stall-reader, bless us! what a word on  A title page is this! and some in file  Stand spelling fals, while one might walk to Mile-  End Green.  Why is it harder Sirs then Gordon,  Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galasp?  Those rugged names to our like mouths grow sleek                     10  That would have made Quintilian stare and gasp.  Thy age, like ours, O Soul of Sir John Cheek,  Hated not Learning wors then Toad or Asp;  When thou taught'st Cambridge, and King Edward Greek.  Note: Camb. Autograph supplies title, On the Detraction which  followed my writing certain Treatises.
XII. On the same.  I did but prompt the age to quit their cloggs  By the known rules of antient libertie,  When strait a barbarous noise environs me  Of Owles and Cuckoes, Asses, Apes and Doggs.  As when those Hinds that were transform'd to Froggs  Raild at Latona's twin-born progenie  Which after held the Sun and Moon in fee.  But this is got by casting Pearl to Hoggs;  That bawle for freedom in their senceless mood,  And still revolt when truth would set them free.                     10  Licence they mean when they cry libertie;  For who loves that, must first be wise and good;  But from that mark how far they roave we see  For all this wast of wealth, and loss of blood.
XIII  To Mr. H. Lawes, on his Aires.  Harry whose tuneful and well measur'd Song  First taught our English Musick how to span  Words with just note and accent, not to scan  With Midas Ears, committing short and long;  Thy worth and skill exempts thee from the throng,  With praise enough for Envy to look wan;  To after age thou shalt be writ the man,  That with smooth aire couldst humor best our tongue  Thou honour'st Verse, and Verse must send her wing  To honour thee, the Priest of Phoebus Quire                          10  That tun'st their happiest lines in Hymn or Story  Dante shall give Fame leave to set thee higher  Then his Casella, whom he woo'd to sing  Met in the milder shades of Purgatory.  Note: 9 send] lend  Cambridge Autograph MS.
XIV  When Faith and Love which parted from thee never,  Had ripen'd thy just soul to dwell with God,  Meekly thou didst resign this earthy load  Of Death, call'd Life; which us from Life doth sever  Thy Works and Alms and all thy good Endeavour  Staid not behind, nor in the grave were trod;  But as Faith pointed with her golden rod,  Follow'd thee up to joy and bliss for ever.  Love led them on, and Faith who knew them best  Thy hand-maids, clad them o're with purple beams                     10  And azure wings, that up they flew so drest,  And speak the truth of thee on glorious Theams  Before the Judge, who thenceforth bid thee rest  And drink thy fill of pure immortal streams.  Note: Camb. Autograph supplies title, On the Religious  Memory of Catherine Thomson, my Christian Friend, deceased  16 Decemb., 1646.
XV  ON THE LATE MASSACHER IN PIEMONT.  Avenge O lord thy slaughter'd Saints, whose bones  Lie scatter'd on the Alpine mountains cold,  Ev'n them who kept thy truth so pure of old  When all our Fathers worship't Stocks and Stones,  Forget not: in thy book record their groanes  Who were thy Sheep and in their antient Fold  Slayn by the bloody Piemontese that roll'd  Mother with Infant down the Rocks.  Their moans  The Vales redoubl'd to the Hills, and they  To Heav'n.  Their martyr'd blood and ashes sow                       10  O're all th'Italian fields where still doth sway  The triple Tyrant: that from these may grow  A hunder'd-fold, who having learnt thy way  Early may fly the Babylonian wo.
XVI
When I consider how my light is spent,  E're half my days, in this dark world and wide,  And that one Talent which is death to hide,  Lodg'd with me useless, though my Soul more bent  To serve therewith my Maker, and present  My true account, least he returning chide,  Doth God exact day-labour, light deny'd,  I fondly ask; But patience to prevent  That murmur, soon replies, God doth not need  Either man's work or his own gifts, who best                         10  Bear his milde yoak, they serve him best, his State  Is Kingly.  Thousands at his bidding speed  And post o're Land and Ocean without rest:  They also serve who only stand and waite.
XVII
Lawrence of vertuous Father vertuous Son,  Now that the Fields are dank, and ways are mire,  Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire  Help wast a sullen day; what may be Won  From the hard Season gaining: time will run  On smoother, till Favonius re-inspire  The frozen earth; and cloth in fresh attire  The Lillie and Rose, that neither sow'd nor spun.  What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice,  Of Attick tast, with Wine, whence we may rise                        10  To hear the Lute well toucht, or artfull voice  Warble immortal Notes and Tuskan Ayre?  He who of those delights can judge, and spare  To interpose them oft, is not unwise.
XVIII
Cyriack, whose Grandsire on the Royal Bench  Of Brittish Themis, with no mean applause  Pronounc't and in his volumes taught our Lawes,  Which others at their Barr so often wrench:  To day deep thoughts resolve with me to drench  In mirth, that after no repenting drawes;  Let Euclid rest and Archimedes pause,  And what the Swede intend, and what the French.  To measure life, learn thou betimes, and know  Toward solid good what leads the nearest way;                        10  For other things mild Heav'n a time ordains,  And disapproves that care, though wise in show,  That with superfluous burden loads the day,  And when God sends a cheerful hour, refrains.
XIX
Methought I saw my late espoused Saint  Brought to me like Alcestis from the grave,  Whom Joves great Son to her glad Husband gave,  Rescu'd from death by force though pale and faint.  Mine as whom washt from spot of child-bed taint,  Purification in the old Law did save,  And such, as yet once more I trust to have  Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint,  Came vested all in white, pure as her mind:  Her face was vail'd, yet to my fancied sight,                        10  Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shin'd  So clear, as in no face with more delight.  But O as to embrace me she enclin'd  I wak'd, she fled, and day brought back my night.





ON THE NEW FORCERS OF CONSCIENCE UNDER THE LONGPARLIAMENT.

Because you have thrown of your Prelate Lord,  And with stiff Vowes renounc'd his Liturgie  To seise the widdow'd whore Pluralitie  From them whose sin ye envi'd, not abhor'd,  Dare ye for this adjure the Civill Sword  To force our Consciences that Christ set free,  And ride us with a classic Hierarchy  Taught ye by meer A. S. and Rotherford?  Men whose Life, Learning, Faith and pure intent  Would have been held in high esteem with Paul                        10  Must now be nam'd and printed Hereticks  By shallow Edwards and Scotch what d'ye call:  But we do hope to find out all your tricks,  Your plots and packing wors then those of Trent,  That so the Parliament  May with their wholsom and preventive Shears  Clip your Phylacteries, though bauk your Ears,  And succour our just Fears  When they shall read this clearly in your charge  New Presbyter is but Old Priest Writ Large.                          20
The four following sonnets were not published until 1694, and  then in a mangled form by Phillips, in his Life of Milton; they  are here printed from the Cambridge MS., where that to Fairfax  is in Milton's autograph.





ON THE LORD GEN. FAIRFAX AT THE SEIGE OF COLCHESTER.

Fairfax, whose name in armes through Europe rings  Filling each mouth with envy, or with praise,  And all her jealous monarchs with amaze,  And rumors loud, that daunt remotest kings,  Thy firm unshak'n vertue ever brings  Victory home, though new rebellions raise  Their Hydra heads, & the fals North displaies  Her brok'n league, to impe their serpent wings,  O yet a nobler task awaites thy hand;  Yet what can Warr, but endless warr still breed,                     10  Till Truth, & Right from Violence be freed,  And Public Faith cleard from the shamefull brand  Of Public Fraud.  In vain doth Valour bleed  While Avarice, & Rapine share the land.





TO THE LORD GENERALL CROMWELL MAY 1652.

ON THE PROPOSALLS OF CERTAINE MINISTERS AT THE COMMITTEE FOR  PROPAGATION OF THE GOSPELL.
Cromwell, our cheif of men, who through a cloud  Not of warr onely, but detractions rude,  Guided by faith & matchless Fortitude  To peace & truth thy glorious way hast plough'd,  And on the neck of crowned Fortune proud  Hast reard Gods Trophies, & his work pursu'd,  While Darwen stream with blood of Scotts imbru'd,  And Dunbarr field resounds thy praises loud,  And Worsters laureat wreath; yet much remaines  To conquer still; peace hath her victories                           10  No less renownd then warr, new foes aries  Threatning to bind our soules with secular chaines:  Helpe us to save free Conscience from the paw  Of hireling wolves whose Gospell is their maw.





TO SR HENRY VANE THE YOUNGER.

Vane, young in yeares, but in sage counsell old,  Then whome a better Senatour nere held  The helme of Rome, when gownes not armes repelld  The feirce Epeirot & the African bold,  Whether to settle peace, or to unfold  The drift of hollow states, hard to be spelld,  Then to advise how warr may best, upheld,  Move by her two maine nerves, Iron & Gold  In all her equipage: besides to know  Both spirituall powre & civill, what each meanes                     10  What severs each thou hast learnt, which few have don  The bounds of either sword to thee wee ow.  Therfore on thy firme hand religion leanes  In peace, & reck'ns thee her eldest son.





TO MR. CYRIACK SKINNER UPON HIS BLINDNESS.

Cyriack, this three years day these eys, though clear  To outward view, of blemish or of spot;  Bereft of light thir seeing have forgot,  Nor to thir idle orbs doth sight appear  Of Sun or Moon or Starre throughout the year,  Or man or woman.  Yet I argue not  Against heavns hand or will, nor bate a jot  Of heart or hope; but still bear up and steer  Right onward.  What supports me, dost thou ask?  The conscience, Friend, to have lost them overply'd                  10  In libertyes defence, my noble task,  Of which all Europe talks from side to side.  This thought might lead me through the world's vain mask  Content though blind, had I no better guide.





PSAL. I. Done into Verse, 1653.

BLESS'D is the man who hath not walk'd astray  In counsel of the wicked, and ith'way  Of sinners hath not stood, and in the seat  Of scorners hath not sate.  But in the great  Jehovahs Law is ever his delight,  And in his law he studies day and night.  He shall be as a tree which planted grows  By watry streams, and in his season knows  To yield his fruit, and his leaf shall not fall.  And what he takes in hand shall prosper all.                         10  Not so the wicked, but as chaff which fann'd  The wind drives, so the wicked shall not stand  In judgment, or abide their tryal then  Nor sinners in th'assembly of just men.  For the Lord knows th'upright way of the just  And the way of bad men to ruine must.





PSAL. II Done Aug. 8. 1653. Terzetti.

WHY do the Gentiles tumult, and the Nations  Muse a vain thing, the Kings of th'earth upstand  With power, and Princes in their Congregations  Lay deep their plots together through each Land,  Against the Lord and his Messiah dear.  Let us break off; say they, by strength of hand  Their bonds, and cast from us, no more to wear,  Their twisted cords: he who in Heaven doth dwell  Shall laugh, the Lord shall scoff them, then severe  Speak to them in his wrath, and in his fell                          10  And fierce ire trouble them; but I saith hee  Anointed have my King (though ye rebell)  On Sion my holi' hill.  A firm decree  I will declare; the Lord to me hath say'd  Thou art my Son I have begotten thee  This day, ask of me, and the grant is made;  As thy possession I on thee bestow  Th'Heathen, and as thy conquest to be sway'd  Earths utmost bounds: them shalt thou bring full low  With Iron Sceptir bruis'd, and them disperse                         20  Like to a potters vessel shiver'd so.  And now be wise at length ye Kings averse  Be taught ye Judges of the earth; with fear  Jehovah serve and let your joy converse  With trembling;  Kiss the Son least he appear  In anger and ye perish in the way  If once his wrath take fire like fuel sere.  Happy all those who have in him their stay.





PSAL. III. Aug. 9. 1653

WHEN HE FLED FROM ABSALOM.
LORD how many are my foes  How many those  That in arms against me rise  Many are they  That of my life distrustfully thus say,  No help for him in God there lies.  But thou Lord art my shield my glory,  Thee through my story  Th' exalter of my head I count  Aloud I cry'd                                                        10  Unto Jehovah, he full soon reply'd  And heard me from his holy mount.  I lay and slept, I wak'd again,  For my sustain  Was the Lord.  Of many millions  The populous rout  I fear not though incamping round about  They pitch against me their Pavillions.  Rise Lord, save me my God for thou  Hast smote ere now                                                   20  On the cheek-bone all my foes,  Of men abhor'd  Hast broke the teeth.  This help was from the Lord;  Thy blessing on thy people flows.





PSAL. IV. Aug. 10.1653.

ANSWER me when I call  God of my righteousness;  In straights and in distress  Thou didst me disinthrall  And set at large; now spare,  Now pity me, and hear my earnest prai'r.  Great ones how long will ye  My glory have in scorn  How long be thus forlorn  Still to love vanity,                                                10  To love, to seek, to prize  Things false and vain and nothing else but lies?  Yet know the Lord hath chose  Chose to himself apart  The good and meek of heart  (For whom to chuse he knows)  Jehovah from on high  Will hear my voyce what time to him I crie.  Be aw'd, and do not sin,  Speak to your hearts alone,                                          20  Upon your beds, each one,  And be at peace within.  Offer the offerings just  Of righteousness and in Jehovah trust.  Many there be that say  Who yet will shew us good?  Talking like this worlds brood;  But Lord, thus let me pray,  On us lift up the light  Lift up the favour of thy count'nance bright.                        30  Into my heart more joy  And gladness thou hast put  Then when a year of glut  Their stores doth over-cloy  And from their plenteous grounds  With vast increase their corn and wine abounds.  In peace at once will I  Both lay me down and sleep  For thou alone dost keep  Me safe where ere I lie                                              40  As in a rocky Cell  Thou Lord alone in safety mak'st me dwell.





PSAL. V. Aug. 12.1653.

JEHOVAH to my words give ear  My meditation waigh  The voyce of my complaining hear  My King and God for unto thee I pray.  Jehovah thou my early voyce  Shalt in the morning hear  Ith'morning I to thee with choyce  Will rank my Prayers, and watch till thou appear.  For thou art not a God that takes  In wickedness delight                                                10  Evil with thee no biding makes  Fools or mad men stand not within thy sight.  All workers of iniquity  Thou wilt destroy that speak a ly  The bloodi' and guileful man God doth detest.  But I will in thy mercies dear  Thy numerous mercies go  Into thy house; I in thy fear  Will towards thy holy temple worship low.                            20  Lord lead me in thy righteousness  Lead me because of those  That do observe if I transgress,  Set thy wayes right before, where my step goes.  For in his faltring mouth unstable  No word is firm or sooth  Their inside, troubles miserable;  An open grave their throat, their tongue they smooth.  God, find them guilty, let them fall  By their own counsels quell'd;                                       30  Push them in their rebellions all  Still on; for against thee they have rebell'd;  Then all who trust in thee shall bring  Their joy, while thou from blame  Defend'st them, they shall ever sing  And shall triumph in thee, who love thy name.  For thou Jehovah wilt be found  To bless the just man still,  As with a shield thou wilt surround  Him with thy lasting favour and good will.                           40





PSAL. VI Aug. 13. 1653.

LORD in thine anger do not reprehend me  Nor in thy hot displeasure me correct;  Pity me Lord for I am much deject  Am very weak and faint; heal and amend me,  For all my bones, that even with anguish ake,  Are troubled, yea my soul is troubled sore  And thou O Lord how long? turn Lord, restore  My soul, O save me for thy goodness sake  For in death no remembrance is of thee;  Who in the grave can celebrate thy praise?                           10  Wearied I am with sighing out my dayes.  Nightly my Couch I make a kind of Sea;  My Bed I water with my tears; mine Eie  Through grief consumes, is waxen old and dark  Ith' mid'st of all mine enemies that mark.  Depart all ye that work iniquitie.  Depart from me, for the voice of my weeping  The Lord hath heard, the Lord hath heard my prai'r  My supplication with acceptance fair  The Lord will own, and have me in his keeping.                       20  Mine enemies shall all be blank and dash't  With much confusion; then grow red with shame,  They shall return in hast the way they came  And in a moment shall be quite abash't.





PSAL. VII. Aug. 14. 1653.

UPON THE WORDS OF CHUSH THE BENJAMITE AGAINST HIM.
Lord my God to thee I flie  Save me and secure me under  Thy protection while I crie  Least as a Lion (and no wonder)  He hast to tear my Soul asunder  Tearing and no rescue nigh.  Lord my God if I have thought  Or done this, if wickedness  Be in my hands, if I have wrought  Ill to him that meant me peace,                                      10  Or to him have render'd less,  And not fre'd my foe for naught;  Let th'enemy pursue my soul  And overtake it, let him tread  My life down to the earth and roul  In the dust my glory dead,  In the dust and there out spread  Lodge it with dishonour foul.  Rise Jehovah in thine ire  Rouze thy self amidst the rage                                       20  Of my foes that urge like fire;  And wake for me, their furi' asswage;  Judgment here thou didst ingage  And command which I desire.  So th' assemblies of each Nation  Will surround thee, seeking right,  Thence to thy glorious habitation  Return on high and in their sight.  Jehovah judgeth most upright  All people from the worlds foundation.                               30  Judge me Lord, be judge in this  According to my righteousness  And the innocence which is  Upon me: cause at length to cease  Of evil men the wickedness  And their power that do amiss.  But the just establish fast,  Since thou art the just God that tries  Hearts and reins.  On God is cast  My defence, and in him lies                                          40  In him who both just and wise  Saves th' upright of Heart at last.  God is a just Judge and severe,  And God is every day offended;  If th' unjust will not forbear,  His Sword he whets, his Bow hath bended  Already, and for him intended  The tools of death, that waits him near.  (His arrows purposely made he  For them that persecute.)  Behold                                    50  He travels big with vanitie,  Trouble he hath conceav'd of old  As in a womb, and from that mould  Hath at length brought forth a Lie.  He dig'd a pit, and delv'd it deep,  And fell into the pit he made,  His mischief that due course doth keep,  Turns on his head, and his ill trade  Of violence will undelay'd  Fall on his crown with ruine steep.                                  60  Then will I Jehovah's praise  According to his justice raise  And sing the Name and Deitie  Of Jehovah the most high.





PSAL. VIII. Aug. 14. 1653.

O JEHOVAH our Lord how wondrous great  And glorious is thy name through all the earth?  So as above the Heavens thy praise to set  Out of the tender mouths of latest bearth,  Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings thou  Hast founded strength because of all thy foes  To stint th'enemy, and slack th'avengers brow  That bends his rage thy providence to oppose.  When I behold thy Heavens, thy Fingers art,  The Moon and Starrs which thou so bright hast set,                   10  In the pure firmament, then saith my heart,  O What is man that thou remembrest yet,  And think'st upon him; or of man begot  That him thou visit'st and of him art found;  Scarce to be less then Gods, thou mad'st his lot,  With honour and with state thou hast him crown'd.  O're the works of thy hand thou mad'st him Lord,  Thou hast put all under his lordly feet,  All Flocks, and Herds, by thy commanding word,  All beasts that in the field or forrest meet.                        20  Fowl of the Heavens, and Fish that through the wet  Sea-paths in shoals do slide. And know no dearth.  O Jehovah our Lord how wondrous great  And glorious is thy name through all the earth.





APRIL, 1648. J. M. NINE OF THE PSALMS DONE INTO METRE,

Wherein all but what is in a different Character, are the verywords of the Text, translated from the Original.





PSAL. LXXX.

1   THOU Shepherd that dost Israel keep      Give ear in time of need,      Who leadest like a flock of sheep      Thy loved Josephs seed,      That sitt'st between the Cherubs bright      Between their wings out-spread      Shine forth, and from thy cloud give light,      And on our foes thy dread.  2   In Ephraims view and Benjamins,      And in Manasse's sight                                           10      Awake* thy strength, come, and be seen                    *Gnorera.      To save us by thy might.  3   Turn us again, thy grace divine      To us O God vouchsafe;      Cause thou thy face on us to shine      And then we shall be safe.  4   Lord God of Hosts, how long wilt thou,      How long wilt thou declare      Thy *smoaking wrath, and angry brow                     *Gnashanta.      Against thy peoples praire.                                      20  5   Thou feed'st them with the bread of tears,      Their bread with tears they eat,      And mak'st them* largely drink the tears                  *Shalish.      Wherewith their cheeks are wet.  6   A strife thou mak'st us and a prey      To every neighbour foe,      Among themselves they *laugh, they *play,                *Jilgnagu.      And *flouts at us they throw.  7   Return us, and thy grace divine,      O God of Hosts vouchsafe                                         30      Cause thou thy face on us to shine,      And then we shall be safe.  8   A Vine from Aegypt thou hast brought,      Thy free love made it thine,      And drov'st out Nations proud and haut      To plant this lovely Vine.  9   Thou did'st prepare for it a place      And root it deep and fast      That it began to grow apace,      And fill'd the land at last.                                     40  10  With her green shade that cover'd all,      The Hills were over-spread      Her Bows as high as Cedars tall      Advanc'd their lofty head.  11  Her branches on the western side      Down to the Sea she sent,      And upward to that river wide      Her other branches went.  12  Why hast thou laid her Hedges low      And brok'n down her Fence,                                       50      That all may pluck her, as they go,      With rudest violence?  13  The tusked Boar out of the wood      Up turns it by the roots,      Wild Beasts there brouze, and make their food      Her Grapes and tender Shoots.  14  Return now, God of Hosts, look down      From Heav'n, thy Seat divine,      Behold us, but without a frown,      And visit this thy Vine.                                         60  15  Visit this Vine, which thy right hand      Hath set, and planted long,      And the young branch, that for thy self      Thou hast made firm and strong.  16  But now it is consum'd with fire,      And cut with Axes down,      They perish at thy dreadfull ire,      At thy rebuke and frown.  17  Upon the man of thy right hand      Let thy good hand be laid,                                       70      Upon the Son of Man, whom thou      Strong for thyself hast made.  18  So shall we not go back from thee      To wayes of sin and shame,      Quick'n us thou, then gladly wee      Shall call upon thy Name.      Return us, and thy grace divine      Lord God of Hosts voutsafe,      Cause thou thy face on us to shine,      And then we shall be safe.                                       80





PSAL. LXXXI.

1   To God our strength sing loud, and clear,      Sing loud to God our King,      To Jacobs God, that all may hear      Loud acclamations ring.  2   Prepare a Hymn, prepare a Song      The Timbrel hither bring      The cheerfull Psaltry bring along      And Harp with pleasant string.  3   Blow, as is wont, in the new Moon      With Trumpets lofty sound,                                       10      Th'appointed time, the day wheron      Our solemn Feast comes round.  4   This was a Statute giv'n of old      For Israel to observe      A Law of Jacobs God, to hold      From whence they might not swerve.  5   This he a Testimony ordain'd      In Joseph, not to change,      When as he pass'd through Aegypt land;      The Tongue I heard, was strange.                                 20  6   From burden, and from slavish toyle      I set his shoulder free;      His hands from pots, and mirie soyle      Deliver'd were by me.  7   When trouble did thee sore assaile,      On me then didst thou call,      And I to free thee did not faile,      And led thee out of thrall.      I answer'd thee in *thunder deep                 *Be Sether ragnam.      With clouds encompass'd round;                                   30      I tri'd thee at the water steep      Of Meriba renown'd.  8   Hear O my people, heark'n well,      I testifie to thee      Thou antient flock of Israel,      If thou wilt list to mee,  9   Through out the land of thy abode      No alien God shall be      Nor shalt thou to a forein God      In honour bend thy knee.                                         40  10  I am the Lord thy God which brought      Thee out of Aegypt land      Ask large enough, and I, besought,      Will grant thy full demand.  11  And yet my people would not hear,      Nor hearken to my voice;      And Israel whom I lov'd so dear      Mislik'd me for his choice.  12  Then did I leave them to their will      And to their wandring mind;                                      50      Their own conceits they follow'd still      Their own devises blind  13  O that my people would be wise      To serve me all their daies,      And O that Israel would advise      To walk my righteous waies.  14  Then would I soon bring down their foes      That now so proudly rise,      And turn my hand against all those      That are their enemies.                                          60  15  Who hate the Lord should then be fain      To bow to him and bend,      But they, His should remain,      Their time should have no end.  16  And he would free them from the shock      With flower of finest wheat,      And satisfie them from the rock      With Honey for their Meat.





PSAL. LXXXII.

1   GOD in the *great *assembly stands                    *Bagnadath-el      Of Kings and lordly States,      Among the gods* on both his hands.                        *Bekerev.      He judges and debates.  2   How long will ye *pervert the right                      *Tishphetu      With *judgment false and wrong                              gnavel.      Favouring the wicked by your might,      Who thence grow bold and strong?  3  *Regard the *weak and fatherless                       *Shiphtu-dal.     *Dispatch the *poor mans cause,                                   10      And **raise the man in deep distress      By **just and equal Lawes.                              **Hatzdiku.  4   Defend the poor and desolate,      And rescue from the hands      Of wicked men the low estate      Of him that help demands.  5   They know not nor will understand,      In darkness they walk on,      The Earths foundations all are *mov'd                     *Jimmotu.      And *out of order gon.                                           20  6   I said that ye were Gods, yea all      The Sons of God most high  7   But ye shall die like men, and fall      As other Princes die.  8   Rise God, *judge thou the earth in might,      This wicked earth *redress,                               *Shiphta.      For thou art he who shalt by right      The Nations all possess.





PSAL. LXXXIII.

1   BE not thou silent now at length      O God hold not thy peace,      Sit not thou still O God of strength      We cry and do not cease.  2   For lo thy furious foes now *swell      And *storm outrageously,                                *Jehemajun.      And they that hate thee proud and fell      Exalt their heads full hie.  3   Against thy people they *contrive                       *Jagnarimu.     *Their Plots and Counsels deep,                             *Sod. 10     *Them to ensnare they chiefly strive             *Jithjagnatsu gnal.     *Whom thou dost hide and keep.                          *Tsephuneca.  4   Come let us cut them off say they,      Till they no Nation be      That Israels name for ever may      Be lost in memory.  5   For they consult *with all their might,               *Lev jachdau.      And all as one in mind      Themselves against thee they unite      And in firm union bind.                                          20  6   The tents of Edom, and the brood      Of scornful Ishmael,      Moab, with them of Hagars blood      That in the Desart dwell,  7   Gebal and Ammon there conspire,      And hateful Amalec,      The Philistines, and they of Tyre      Whose bounds the sea doth check.  8   With them great Asshur also bands      And doth confirm the knot,                                       30      All these have lent their armed hands      To aid the Sons of Lot.  9   Do to them as to Midian bold      That wasted all the Coast.      To Sisera, and as is told      Thou didst to Jabins hoast,      When at the brook of Kishon old      They were repulst and slain,  10  At Endor quite cut off, and rowl'd      As dung upon the plain.                                          40  11  As Zeb and Oreb evil sped      So let their Princes speed      As Zeba, and Zalmunna bled      So let their Princes bleed.  12  For they amidst their pride have said      By right now shall we seize      Gods houses, and will now invade     *Their stately Palaces.                    *Neoth Elohim bears both.  13  My God, oh make them as a wheel      No quiet let them find,                                          50      Giddy and restless let them reel      Like stubble from the wind.  14  As when an aged wood takes fire      Which on a sudden straies,      The greedy flame runs hier and hier      Till all the mountains blaze,  15  So with thy whirlwind them pursue,      And with thy tempest chase;  16 *And till they *yield thee honour due,                *They seek thy      Lord fill with shame their face.                         Name. Heb.  17  Asham'd and troubl'd let them be,                                60      Troubl'd and sham'd for ever,      Ever confounded, and so die      With shame, and scape it never.  18  Then shall they know that thou whose name      Jehova is alone,      Art the most high, and thou the same      O're all the earth art one.





PSAL. LXXXIV.

1   How lovely are thy dwellings fair!      O Lord of Hoasts, how dear      The pleasant Tabernacles are!      Where thou do'st dwell so near.  2   My Soul doth long and almost die      Thy Courts O Lord to see,      My heart and flesh aloud do crie,      O living God, for thee.  3   There ev'n the Sparrow freed from wrong      Hath found a house of rest,                                      10      The Swallow there, to lay her young      Hath built her brooding nest,      Ev'n by thy Altars Lord of Hoasts      They find their safe abode,      And home they fly from round the Coasts      Toward thee, My King, my God  4   Happy, who in thy house reside      Where thee they ever praise,  5   Happy, whose strength in thee doth bide,      And in their hearts thy waies.                                   20  6   They pass through Baca's thirstie Vale,      That dry and barren ground      As through a fruitfull watry Dale      Where Springs and Showrs abound.  7   They journey on from strength to strength      With joy and gladsom cheer      Till all before our God at length      In Sion do appear.  8   Lord God of Hoasts hear now my praier      O Jacobs God give ear,                                           30  9   Thou God our shield look on the face      Of thy anointed dear.  10  For one day in thy Courts to be      Is better, and more blest      Then in the joyes of Vanity,      A thousand daies at best.      I in the temple of my God      Had rather keep a dore,      Then dwell in Tents, and rich abode      With Sin for evermore                                            40  11  For God the Lord both Sun and Shield      Gives grace and glory bright,      No good from him shall be with-held      Whose waies are just and right.  12  Lord God of Hoasts that raign 'st on high,      That man is truly blest      Who only on thee doth relie.      And in thee only rest.





PSAL LXXXV.

1   THY Land to favour graciously      Thou hast not Lord been slack,      Thou hast from hard Captivity      Returned Jacob back.  2   Th' iniquity thou didst forgive      That wrought thy people woe,      And all their Sin, that did thee grieve      Hast hid where none shall know.  3   Thine anger all thou hadst remov'd,      And calmly didst return                                          10      From thy *fierce wrath which we had prov'd        *Heb. The burning      Far worse then fire to burn.                            heat of thy  4   God of our saving health and peace,                          wrath.      Turn us, and us restore,      Thine indignation cause to cease      Toward us, and chide no more.  5   Wilt thou be angry without end,      For ever angry thus      Wilt thou thy frowning ire extend      From age to age on us?                                           20  6   Wilt thou not * turn, and hear our voice             * Heb. Turn to      And us again * revive,                                 quicken us.      That so thy people may rejoyce      By thee preserv'd alive.  7   Cause us to see thy goodness Lord,      To us thy mercy shew      Thy saving health to us afford      And life in us renew.  8   And now what God the Lord will speak      I will go strait and hear,                                       30      For to his people he speaks peace      And to his Saints full dear,      To his dear Saints he will speak peace,      But let them never more      Return to folly, but surcease      To trespass as before.  9   Surely to such as do him fear      Salvation is at hand      And glory shall ere long appear      To dwell within our Land.                                        40  10  Mercy and Truth that long were miss'd      Now joyfully are met      Sweet Peace and Righteousness have kiss'd      And hand in hand are set.  11  Truth from the earth like to a flowr      Shall bud and blossom then,      And Justice from her heavenly bowr      Look down on mortal men.  12  The Lord will also then bestow      Whatever thing is good                                           50      Our Land shall forth in plenty throw      Her fruits to be our food.  13  Before him Righteousness shall go      His Royal Harbinger,      Then * will he come, and not be slow          *Heb. He will set his      His footsteps cannot err.                         steps to the way.





PSAL. LXXXVI.

1   THY gracious ear, O Lord, encline,      O hear me I thee pray,      For I am poor, and almost pine      With need, and sad decay.  2   Preserve my soul, for *I have trod           Heb. I am good, loving,      Thy waies, and love the just,                    a doer of good and      Save thou thy servant O my God                          holy things      Who still in thee doth trust.  3   Pity me Lord for daily thee      I call; 4 O make rejoyce                                         10      Thy Servants Soul; for Lord to thee      I lift my soul and voice,  5   For thou art good, thou Lord art prone      To pardon, thou to all      Art full of mercy, thou alone      To them that on thee call.  6   Unto my supplication Lord      Give ear, and to the crie      Of my incessant praiers afford      Thy hearing graciously.                                          20  7   I in the day of my distress      Will call on thee for aid;      For thou wilt grant me free access      And answer, what I pray'd.  8   Like thee among the gods is none      O Lord, nor any works      Of all that other Gods have done      Like to thy glorious works.  9   The Nations all whom thou hast made      Shall come, and all shall frame                                  30      To bow them low before thee Lord,      And glorifie thy name.  10  For great thou art, and wonders great      By thy strong hand are done,      Thou in thy everlasting Seat      Remainest God alone.  11  Teach me O Lord thy way most right,      I in thy truth will bide,      To fear thy name my heart unite      So shall it never slide.                                         40  12  Thee will I praise O Lord my God      Thee honour, and adore      With my whole heart, and blaze abroad      Thy name for ever more.  13  For great thy mercy is toward me,      And thou hast free'd my Soul      Eev'n from the lowest Hell set free      From deepest darkness foul.  14  O God the proud against me rise      And violent men are met                                          50      To seek my life, and in their eyes      No fear of thee have set.  15  But thou Lord art the God most mild      Readiest thy grace to shew,      Slow to be angry, and art stil'd      Most mercifull, most true.  16  O turn to me thy face at length,      And me have mercy on,      Unto thy servant give thy strength,      And save thy hand-maids Son.                                     60  17  Some sign of good to me afford,      And let my foes then see      And be asham'd, because thou Lord      Do'st help and comfort me.





PSAL. LXXXVII

1   AMONG the holy Mountains high      Is his foundation fast,      There Seated in his Sanctuary,      His Temple there is plac't.  2   Sions fair Gates the Lord loves more      Then all the dwellings faire      Of Jacobs Land, though there be store,      And all within his care.  3   City of God, most glorious things      Of thee abroad are spoke;                                        10  4   I mention Egypt, where proud Kings      Did our forefathers yoke,      I mention Babel to my friends,      Philistia full of scorn,      And Tyre with Ethiops utmost ends,      Lo this man there was born:  5   But twise that praise shall in our ear      Be said of Sion last      This and this man was born in her,      High God shall fix her fast.                                     20  6   The Lord shall write it in a Scrowle      That ne're shall be out-worn      When he the Nations doth enrowle      That this man there was born.  7   Both they who sing, and they who dance      With sacred Songs are there,      In thee fresh brooks, and soft streams glance      And all my fountains clear.





PSAL. LXXXVIII

1   LORD God that dost me save and keep,      All day to thee I cry;      And all night long, before thee weep      Before thee prostrate lie.  2   Into thy presence let my praier      With sighs devout ascend      And to my cries, that ceaseless are,      Thine ear with favour bend.  3   For cloy'd with woes and trouble store      Surcharg'd my Soul doth lie,                                     10      My life at death's uncherful dore      Unto the grave draws nigh.  4   Reck'n'd I am with them that pass      Down to the dismal pit      I am a *man, but weak alas               * Heb. A man without manly      And for that name unfit.                                  strength.  5   From life discharg'd and parted quite      Among the dead to sleep      And like the slain in bloody fight      That in the grave lie deep.                                      20      Whom thou rememberest no more,      Dost never more regard,      Them from thy hand deliver'd o're      Deaths hideous house hath barr'd.  6   Thou in the lowest pit profound      Hast set me all forlorn,      Where thickest darkness hovers round,      In horrid deeps to mourn.  7   Thy wrath from which no shelter saves      Full sore doth press on me;                                      30     *Thou break'st upon me all thy waves,                      *The Heb.     *And all thy waves break me                              bears both.  8   Thou dost my friends from me estrange,      And mak'st me odious,      Me to them odious, for they change,      And I here pent up thus.  9   Through sorrow, and affliction great      Mine eye grows dim and dead,      Lord all the day I thee entreat,      My hands to thee I spread.                                       40  10  Wilt thou do wonders on the dead,      Shall the deceas'd arise      And praise thee from their loathsom bed      With pale and hollow eyes?  11  Shall they thy loving kindness tell      On whom the grave hath hold,      Or they who in perdition dwell      Thy faithfulness unfold?  12  In darkness can thy mighty hand      Or wondrous acts be known,                                       50      Thy justice in the gloomy land      Of dark oblivion?  13  But I to thee O Lord do cry      E're yet my life be spent,      And up to thee my praier doth hie      Each morn, and thee prevent.  14  Why wilt thou Lord my soul forsake,      And hide thy face from me,  15  That am already bruis'd, and *shake          *Heb. Prae Concussione.      With terror sent from thee;                                      60      Bruz'd, and afflicted and so low      As ready to expire,      While I thy terrors undergo      Astonish'd with thine ire.  16  Thy fierce wrath over me doth flow      Thy threatnings cut me through.  17  All day they round about me go,      Like waves they me persue.  18  Lover and friend thou hast remov'd      And sever'd from me far.                                         70      They fly me now whom I have lov'd,      And as in darkness are.
Finis.





COLLECTION OF PASSAGES TRANSLATED IN THE PROSE WRITINGS.





[From Of Reformation in England, 1641.]

Ah Constantine, of how much ill was cause  Not thy Conversion, but those rich demains  That the first wealthy Pope receiv'd of thee.  DANTE, Inf. xix. 115.  Founded in chast and humble Poverty,  'Gainst them that rais'd thee dost thou lift thy horn,  Impudent whoore, where hast thou plac'd thy hope?  In thy Adulterers, or thy ill got wealth?  Another Constantine comes not in hast.  PETRARCA, Son. 108.  And to be short, at last his guid him brings  Into a goodly valley, where he sees  A mighty mass of things strangely confus'd  Things that on earth were lost or were abus'd.  .   .   .   .   .  Then past he to a flowry Mountain green,  Which once smelt sweet, now stinks as odiously;  This was that gift (if you the truth will have)  That Constantine to good Sylvestro gave.  ARIOSTO, Orl. Fur. xxxiv. 80.





[From Reason of Church Government, 1641.]

When I die, let the Earth be roul'd in flames.





[From Apology for Smectymnuus, 1642.]

Laughing to teach the truth  What hinders? as some teachers give to Boys  Junkets and knacks, that they may learne apace.  HORACE, Sat. 1. 24.  Jesting decides great things  Stronglier, and better oft than earnest can.  IBID. i. 10. 14.  'Tis you that say it, not I: you do the deeds  And your ungodly deeds find me the words.  SOPHOCLES, Elec. 624.





[From Areopagitica, 1644.]

This is true Liberty, when free-born Men,  Having to advise the Public, may speak free,  Which he who can, and will, deserv's high praise;  Who neither can nor will, may hold his peace,  What can be juster in a state then this?  EURIPIDES, Supp. 438





[From Tetrachordon, 1645.]

Whom do we count a good man, whom but he  Who keeps the laws and statutes of the Senate,  Who judges in great suits and controversies,  Whose witness and opinion wins the cause?  But his own house, and the whole neighbourhood  See his foul inside through his whited skin.  HORACE, Ep. i. 16. 40.





[From The Tenure of Kings and Magistrates, 1649.]

There can be slaine  No sacrifice to God more acceptable  Than an unjust and wicked king.  SENECA, Herc. Fur. 922.





[From History of Britain, 1670.]

Brutus thus addresses Diana in the country of Leogecia.  Goddess of Shades, and Huntress, who at will  Walk'st on the rowling Sphear, and through the deep,  On thy third Reign the Earth look now, and tell  What Land, what Seat of rest thou bidst me seek,  What certain Seat, where I may worship thee  For aye, with Temples vow'd, and Virgin quires.  To whom sleeping before the altar, Diana in a Vision that night  thus answer'd.  Brutus far to the West, in th' Ocean wide  Beyond the Realm of Gaul, a Land there lies,  Sea-girt it lies, where Giants dwelt of old,  Now void, it fits thy People; thether bend  Thy course, there shalt thou find a lasting seat,  There to thy Sons another Troy shall rise,  And Kings be born of thee, whose dredded might  Shall aw the World, and conquer Nations bold.














PARADISE LOST.

Transcriber's Note: Title page of first (1667) edition ofParadise Lost follows:

Paradise lost.                               A                              POEM                           Written in                           TEN BOOKS                         By John Milton  ——————————————————————————————                 Licensed and Entred according                           to Order  ——————————————————————————————                            LONDON.          Printed, and are to be sold by Peter Parker            under Creed Church neer Aldgate; And by    Robert Boulter at the Turk's head in Bishopsgate-street       And Matthias Walker, under St. Dunstan's Church                    in Fleet-street, 1667.










Transcriber's Note: Title page of second (1674) edition ofParadise Lost follows:

Paradise Lost.                               A                             POEM                              IN                         TWELVE BOOKS.  ——————————————————————————————                          The Author                         JOHN MILTON.  ——————————————————————————————                       The Second Edition                  Revised and Augmented by the                          Same Author.  ——————————————————————————————                            LONDON.             Printed by S. Simmons next door to the             Golden Lion in Aldergate-street, 1674.
007s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size


008s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size





ON Paradise Lost.

WHEN I beheld the Poet blind, yet bold,  In slender Book his vast Design unfold,  Messiah Crown'd, Gods Reconcil'd Decree,  Rebelling Angels, the Forbidden Tree,  Heav'n, Hell, Earth, Chaos, All; the Argument  Held me a while misdoubting his Intent,  That he would ruine (for I saw him strong)  The sacred Truths to Fable and old Song  (So Sampson groap'd the Temples Posts in spight)  The World o'rewhelming to revenge his sight.  Yet as I read soon growing less severe,  I lik'd his Project, the success did fear;  Through that wide Field how he his way should find  O're which lame Faith leads Understanding blind;  Lest he perplex'd the things he would explain,  And what was easie he should render vain.  Or if a Work so infinite he spann'd,  Jealous I was that some less skilful hand  (Such as disquiet always what is well,  And by ill imitating would excell)  Might hence presume the whole Creations day  To change in Scenes, and show it in a Play.  Pardon me, Mighty Poet, nor despise  My causeless, yet not impious, surmise.  But I am now convinc'd, and none will dare  Within thy Labours to pretend a share,  Thou hast not miss'd one thought that could be fit,  And all that was improper dost omit:  So that no room is here for Writers left,  But to detect their Ignorance or Theft.  That Majesty which through thy Work doth Reign  Draws the Devout, deterring the Profane,  And things divine thou treatst of in such state  As them preserves, and thee, inviolate.  At once delight and horrour on us seise,  Thou singst with so much gravity and ease;  And above humane flight dost soar aloft  With Plume so strong, so equal, and so soft.  The Bird nam'd from that Paradise you sing  So never flaggs, but always keeps on Wing.  Where couldst thou words of such a compass find?  Whence furnish such a vast expence of mind?  Just Heav'n thee like Tiresias to requite  Rewards with Prophesie thy loss of sight.  Well mightst thou scorn thy Readers to allure  With tinkling Rhime, of thy own sense secure;  While the Town-Bayes writes all the while and spells,  And like a Pack-horse tires without his Bells:  Their Fancies like our Bushy-points appear,  The Poets tag them, we for fashion wear.  I too transported by the Mode offend,  And while I meant to Praise thee must Commend.  Thy Verse created like thy Theme sublime,  In Number, Weight, and Measure, needs not Rhime.                                         A.M.  Note: On Paradise Lost] Added in the second edition 1674.

The Printer to the Reader.

Courteous Reader, there was no Argument at first intended tothe Book, but for the satisfaction of many that have desired it,I have procur'd it, and withall a reason of that which stumbledmany others, why the Poem Rimes not. S. Simmons.

Notes: The Printer to the Reader] Added in 1668 to the copiesthen remaining of the first edition, amended in 1669, and omittedin 1670. I have procur'd it, and.... not. 1669] is procured.1668.





THE VERSE.

THE measure is English Heroic Verse without Rime as that ofHomer in Greek, and of Virgil in Latin; Rime being no necessaryAdjunct or true Ornament of Poem or good Verse, in longer Worksespecially, but the Invention of a barbarous Age, to set offwretched matter and lame Meeter; grac't indeed since by the useof some famous modern Poets, carried away by Custom, but much tothir own vexation, hindrance, and constraint to express manythings otherwise, and for the most part worse then else theywould have exprest them. Not without cause therefore some bothItalian and Spanish Poets of prime note have rejected Rime bothin longer and shorter Works, as have also long since our bestEnglish Tragedies, as a thing of it self, to all judicious eares,triveal and of no true musical delight: which consists only inapt Numbers, fit quantity of Syllables, and the sense variouslydrawn out from one Verse into another, not in the jingling soundof like endings, a fault avoyded by the learned Ancients both inPoetry and all good Oratory This neglect then of Rime so littleis to be taken for a defect though it may seem so perhaps tovulgar Readers, that it rather is to be esteem'd an example set,the first in English, of ancient liberty recover'd to Heroic Poemfrom the troublesom and modern bondage of Rimeing.

Note: The Verse] Added in 1668 to the copies then remaining ofthe first edition; together with the Argument. In the secondedition (1674) the Argument, with the necessary adjustment to thedivision made in Books vii and x, was distributed through theseveral books of the poem, as it is here printed.





BOOK I.

THE ARGUMENT.

THIS first Book proposes first in brief the whole Subject,Mans disobedience, and the loss thereupon of Paradise wherein hewas plac't: Then touches the prime cause of his fall, theSerpent, or rather Satan in the Serpent; who revolting from God,and drawing to his side many Legions of Angels, was by thecommand of God driven out of Heaven with all his Crew into thegreat Deep. Which action past over, the Poem hasts into the midstof things, presenting Satan with his Angels now fallen into Helldescrib'd here, not in the Center (for Heaven and Earth may besuppos'd as yet not made, certainly not yet accurst) but in aplace of utter darknesse, fitliest call'd Chaos: Here Satan withhis Angels lying on the burning Lake, thunder-struck andastonisht, after a certain space recovers, as from confusion,calls up him who next in Order and Dignity lay by him; theyconfer of thir miserable fall. Satan awakens all his Legions, wholay till then in the same manner confounded; They rise, thirNumbers, array of Battel, thir chief Leaders nam'd according tothe Idols known afterwards in Canaan and the Countries adjoyning.To these Satan directs his Speech, comforts them with hope yet ofgaining Heaven, but tells them lastly of a new World and new kindof Creature to be created, according to an ancient Prophesie orreport in Heaven; for that Angels were long before this visibleCreation, was the opinion of many ancient Fathers. To find outthe truth of this Prophesie, and what to determin thereon herefers to a full councell. What his Associates thence attempt.Pandemonium the palace of Satan rises, suddenly built out of theDeep: The infernal Peers there sit in Counsel.

Of Mans First Disobedience, and the Fruit  Of that Forbidden Tree, whose mortal tast  Brought Death into the World, and all our woe,  With loss of Eden, till one greater Man  Restore us, and regain the blissful Seat,  Sing Heav'nly Muse, that on the secret top  Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire  That Shepherd, who first taught the chosen Seed,  In the Beginning how the Heav'ns and Earth  Rose out of Chaos: Or if Sion Hill                                   10  Delight thee more, and Siloa's Brook that flow'd  Fast by the Oracle of God; I thence  Invoke thy aid to my adventrous Song,  That with no middle flight intends to soar  Above th' Aonian Mount, while it pursues  Things unattempted yet in Prose or Rhime.  And chiefly Thou O Spirit, that dost prefer  Before all Temples th' upright heart and pure,  Instruct me, for Thou know'st; Thou from the first  Wast present, and with mighty wings outspread                        20  Dove-like satst brooding on the vast Abyss  And mad'st it pregnant: What in me is dark  Illumine, what is low raise and support;  That to the highth of this great Argument  I may assert th' Eternal Providence,  And justifie the wayes of God to men.  Say first, for Heav'n hides nothing from thy view  Nor the deep Tract of Hell, say first what cause  Mov'd our Grand Parents in that happy State,  Favour'd of Heav'n so highly, to fall off                            30  From their Creator, and transgress his Will  For one restraint, Lords of the World besides?  Who first seduc'd them to that fowl revolt?  Th' infernal Serpent; he it was, whose guile  Stird up with Envy and Revenge, deceiv'd  The Mother of Mankinde, what time his Pride  Had cast him out from Heav'n, with all his Host  Of Rebel Angels, by whose aid aspiring  To set himself in Glory above his Peers,  He trusted to have equal'd the most High,                            40  If he oppos'd; and with ambitious aim  Against the Throne and Monarchy of God  Rais'd impious War in Heav'n and Battel proud  With vain attempt. Him the Almighty Power
057s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

Hurld headlong flaming from th' Ethereal Skie  With hideous ruine and combustion down  To bottomless perdition, there to dwell  In Adamantine Chains and penal Fire,  Who durst defie th' Omnipotent to Arms.  Nine times the Space that measures Day and Night                     50  To mortal men, he with his horrid crew  Lay vanquisht, rowling in the fiery Gulfe  Confounded though immortal: But his doom  Reserv'd him to more wrath; for now the thought  Both of lost happiness and lasting pain  Torments him; round he throws his baleful eyes  That witness'd huge affliction and dismay  Mixt with obdurate pride and stedfast hate:  At once as far as Angels kenn he views  The dismal Situation waste and wilde,                                60  A Dungeon horrible, on all sides round  As one great Furnace flam'd, yet from those flames  No light, but rather darkness visible  Serv'd only to discover sights of woe,  Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace  And rest can never dwell, hope never comes  That comes to all; but torture without end  Still urges, and a fiery Deluge, fed  With ever-burning Sulphur unconsum'd:  Such place Eternal Justice had prepar'd                              70  For those rebellious, here their Prison ordain'd  In utter darkness, and their portion set  As far remov'd from God and light of Heav'n  As from the Center thrice to th' utmost Pole.  O how unlike the place from whence they fell!  There the companions of his fall, o'rewhelm'd  With Floods and Whirlwinds of tempestuous fire,  He soon discerns, and weltring by his side  One next himself in power, and next in crime,  Long after known in Palestine, and nam'd                             80  Beelzebub. To whom th' Arch-Enemy,  And thence in Heav'n call'd Satan, with bold words  Breaking the horrid silence thus began.  If thou beest he; But O how fall'n! how chang'd  From him, who in the happy Realms of Light  Cloth'd with transcendent brightnes didst outshine  Myriads though bright: If he whom mutual league,  United thoughts and counsels, equal hope,  And hazard in the Glorious Enterprize,  Joynd with me once, now misery hath joynd                            90  In equal ruin: into what Pit thou seest  From what highth fal'n, so much the stronger provd  He with his Thunder: and till then who knew  The force of those dire Arms? yet not for those  Nor what the Potent Victor in his rage  Can else inflict do I repent or change,  Though chang'd in outward lustre; that fixt mind  And high disdain, from sence of injur'd merit,  That with the mightiest rais'd me to contend,  And to the fierce contention brought along                          100  Innumerable force of Spirits arm'd  That durst dislike his reign, and me preferring,  His utmost power with adverse power oppos'd  In dubious Battel on the Plains of Heav'n,  And shook his throne. What though the field be lost?  All is not lost; the unconquerable Will,  And study of revenge, immortal hate,  And courage never to submit or yield:  And what is else not to be overcome?  That Glory never shall his wrath or might                           110  Extort from me. To bow and sue for grace  With suppliant knee, and deifie his power  Who from the terrour of this Arm so late  Doubted his Empire, that were low indeed,  That were an ignominy and shame beneath  This downfall; since by Fate the strength of Gods  And this Empyreal substance cannot fail,  Since through experience of this great event  In Arms not worse, in foresight much advanc't,  We may with more successful hope resolve                            120  To wage by force or guile eternal Warr  Irreconcileable, to our grand Foe,  Who now triumphs, and in th' excess of joy  Sole reigning holds the Tyranny of Heav'n.  So spake th' Apostate Angel, though in pain,  Vaunting aloud, but rackt with deep despare:  And him thus answer'd soon his bold Compeer.  O Prince, O Chief of many Throned Powers,  That led th' imbattelld Seraphim to Warr  Under thy conduct, and in dreadful deeds                            130  Fearless, endanger'd Heav'ns perpetual King;  And put to proof his high Supremacy,  Whether upheld by strength, or Chance, or Fate,  Too well I see and rue the dire event,  That with sad overthrow and foul defeat  Hath lost us Heav'n, and all this mighty Host  In horrible destruction laid thus low,  As far as Gods and Heav'nly Essences  Can Perish: for the mind and spirit remains  Invincible, and vigour soon returns,                                140  Though all our Glory extinct, and happy state  Here swallow'd up in endless misery.  But what if he our Conquerour, (whom I now  Of force believe Almighty, since no less  Then such could hav orepow'rd such force as ours)  Have left us this our spirit and strength intire  Strongly to suffer and support our pains,  That we may so suffice his vengeful ire,  Or do him mightier service as his thralls  By right of Warr, what e're his business be                         150  Here in the heart of Hell to work in Fire,  Or do his Errands in the gloomy Deep;  What can it then avail though yet we feel  Strength undiminisht, or eternal being  To undergo eternal punishment?  Whereto with speedy words th' Arch-fiend reply'd.  Fall'n Cherube, to be weak is miserable  Doing or Suffering: but of this be sure,  To do ought good never will be our task,  But ever to do ill our sole delight,                                160  As being the contrary to his high will  Whom we resist. If then his Providence  Out of our evil seek to bring forth good,  Our labour must be to pervert that end,  And out of good still to find means of evil;  Which oft times may succeed, so as perhaps  Shall grieve him, if I fail not, and disturb  His inmost counsels from their destind aim.  But see the angry Victor hath recall'd  His Ministers of vengeance and pursuit                              170  Back to the Gates of Heav'n: The Sulphurous Hail  Shot after us in storm, oreblown hath laid  The fiery Surge, that from the Precipice  Of Heav'n receiv'd us falling, and the Thunder,  Wing'd with red Lightning and impetuous rage,  Perhaps hath spent his shafts, and ceases now  To bellow through the vast and boundless Deep.  Let us not slip th' occasion, whether scorn,  Or satiate fury yield it from our Foe.  Seest thou yon dreary Plain, forlorn and wilde,                     180  The seat of desolation, voyd of light,  Save what the glimmering of these livid flames  Casts pale and dreadful? Thither let us tend  From off the tossing of these fiery waves,  There rest, if any rest can harbour there,  And reassembling our afflicted Powers,  Consult how we may henceforth most offend  Our Enemy, our own loss how repair,  How overcome this dire Calamity,  What reinforcement we may gain from Hope,                           190  If not what resolution from despare.  Thus Satan talking to his neerest Mate  With Head up-lift above the wave, and Eyes  That sparkling blaz'd, his other Parts besides  Prone on the Flood, extended long and large  Lay floating many a rood, in bulk as huge  As whom the Fables name of monstrous size,  Titanian, or Earth-born, that warr'd on Jove,  Briarios or Typhon, whom the Den  By ancient Tarsus held, or that Sea-beast                           200  Leviathan, which God of all his works  Created hugest that swim th' Ocean stream:  Him haply slumbring on the Norway foam  The Pilot of some small night-founder'd Skiff,  Deeming some Island, oft, as Sea-men tell,  With fixed Anchor in his skaly rind  Moors by his side under the Lee, while Night  Invests the Sea, and wished Morn delayes:  So stretcht out huge in length the Arch-fiend lay  Chain'd on the burning Lake, nor ever thence                        210  Had ris'n or heav'd his head, but that the will  And high permission of all-ruling Heaven  Left him at large to his own dark designs,  That with reiterated crimes he might  Heap on himself damnation, while he sought  Evil to others, and enrag'd might see  How all his malice serv'd but to bring forth  Infinite goodness, grace and mercy shewn  On Man by him seduc't, but on himself  Treble confusion, wrath and vengeance pour'd.                       220  Forthwith upright he rears from off the Pool
067s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

His mighty Stature; on each hand the flames  Drivn backward slope their pointing spires, & rowld  In billows, leave i'th' midst a horrid Vale.  Then with expanded wings he stears his flight  Aloft, incumbent on the dusky Air  That felt unusual weight, till on dry Land  He lights, if it were Land that ever burn'd  With solid, as the Lake with liquid fire;  And such appear'd in hue, as when the force                         230  Of subterranean wind transports a Hill  Torn from Pelorus, or the shatter'd side  Of thundring Aetna, whose combustible  And fewel'd entrals thence conceiving Fire,  Sublim'd with Mineral fury, aid the Winds,  And leave a singed bottom all involv'd  With stench and smoak: Such resting found the sole  Of unblest feet. Him followed his next Mate,  Both glorying to have scap't the Stygian flood  As Gods, and by their own recover'd strength,                       240  Not by the sufferance of supernal Power.  Is this the Region, this the Soil, the Clime,  Said then the lost Arch Angel, this the seat  That we must change for Heav'n, this mournful gloom  For that celestial light? Be it so, since hee  Who now is Sovran can dispose and bid  What shall be right: fardest from him is best  Whom reason hath equald, force hath made supream  Above his equals. Farewel happy Fields  Where Joy for ever dwells: Hail horrours, hail                      250  Infernal world, and thou profoundest Hell  Receive thy new Possessor: One who brings  A mind not to be chang'd by Place or Time.  The mind is its own place, and in it self  Can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of Heav'n.  What matter where, if I be still the same,  And what I should be, all but less then hee  Whom Thunder hath made greater? Here at least  We shall be free; th' Almighty hath not built  Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:                         260  Here we may reign secure, and in my choyce  To reign is worth ambition though in Hell:  Better to reign in Hell, then serve in Heav'n.  But wherefore let we then our faithful friends,  Th' associates and copartners of our loss  Lye thus astonisht on th' oblivious Pool,  And call them not to share with us their part  In this unhappy Mansion, or once more  With rallied Arms to try what may be yet  Regaind in Heav'n, or what more lost in Hell?                       270  So Satan spake, and him Beelzebub  Thus answer'd. Leader of those Armies bright,  Which but th' Omnipotent none could have foyld,  If once they hear that voyce, their liveliest pledge  Of hope in fears and dangers, heard so oft  In worst extreams, and on the perilous edge  Of battel when it rag'd, in all assaults  Their surest signal, they will soon resume  New courage and revive, though now they lye  Groveling and prostrate on yon Lake of Fire,                        280  As we erewhile, astounded and amaz'd,  No wonder, fall'n such a pernicious highth.  He scarce had ceas't when the superiour Fiend  Was moving toward the shore; his ponderous shield  Ethereal temper, massy, large and round,  Behind him cast; the broad circumference  Hung on his shoulders like the Moon, whose Orb  Through Optic Glass the Tuscan Artist views  At Ev'ning from the top of Fesole,  Or in Valdarno, to descry new Lands,                                290  Rivers or Mountains in her spotty Globe.  His Spear, to equal which the tallest Pine  Hewn on Norwegian hills, to be the Mast  Of some great Ammiral, were but a wand,  He walkt with to support uneasie steps  Over the burning Marle, not like those steps  On Heavens Azure, and the torrid Clime  Smote on him sore besides, vaulted with Fire;  Nathless he so endur'd, till on the Beach  Of that inflamed Sea, he stood and call'd                           300  His Legions, Angel Forms, who lay intrans't  Thick as Autumnal Leaves that strow the Brooks  In Vallombrosa, where th' Etrurian shades  High overarch't imbowr; or scatterd sedge  Afloat, when with fierce Winds Orion arm'd  Hath vext the Red-Sea Coast, whose waves orethrew  Busiris and his Memphian Chivalrie,  While with perfidious hatred they pursu'd  The Sojourners of Goshen, who beheld  From the safe shore their floating Carkases                         310  And broken Chariot Wheels, so thick bestrown  Abject and lost lay these, covering the Flood,  Under amazement of their hideous change.  He call'd so loud, that all the hollow Deep  Of Hell resounded. Princes, Potentates,  Warriers, the Flowr of Heav'n, once yours, now lost,  If such astonishment as this can sieze  Eternal spirits; or have ye chos'n this place  After the toyl of Battel to repose  Your wearied vertue, for the ease you find                          320  To slumber here, as in the Vales of Heav'n?  Or in this abject posture have ye sworn  To adore the Conquerour? who now beholds  Cherube and Seraph rowling in the Flood  With scatter'd Arms and Ensigns, till anon  His swift pursuers from Heav'n Gates discern  Th' advantage, and descending tread us down  Thus drooping, or with linked Thunderbolts  Transfix us to the bottom of this Gulfe.  Awake, arise, or be for ever fall'n.                                330  They heard, and were abasht, and up they sprung
068s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

Upon the wing, as when men wont to watch  On duty, sleeping found by whom they dread,  Rouse and bestir themselves ere well awake.  Nor did they not perceave the evil plight  In which they were, or the fierce pains not feel;  Yet to their Generals Voyce they soon obeyd  Innumerable. As when the potent Rod  Of Amrams Son in Egypts evill day  Wav'd round the Coast, up call'd a pitchy cloud                     340  Of Locusts, warping on the Eastern Wind,  That ore the Realm of impious Pharoah hung  Like Night, and darken'd all the Land of Nile:  So numberless were those bad Angels seen  Hovering on wing under the Cope of Hell
078s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

'Twixt upper, nether, and surrounding Fires;  Till, as a signal giv'n, th' uplifted Spear  Of their great Sultan waving to direct  Thir course, in even ballance down they light  On the firm brimstone, and fill all the Plain;                      350  A multitude, like which the populous North  Pour'd never from her frozen loyns, to pass  Rhene or the Danaw, when her barbarous Sons  Came like a Deluge on the South, and spread  Beneath Gibraltar to the Lybian sands.  Forthwith from every Squadron and each Band  The Heads and Leaders thither hast where stood  Their great Commander; Godlike shapes and forms  Excelling human, Princely Dignities,  And Powers that earst in Heaven sat on Thrones;                     360  Though of their Names in heav'nly Records now  Be no memorial, blotted out and ras'd  By thir Rebellion, from the Books of Life.  Nor had they yet among the Sons of Eve  Got them new Names, till wandring ore the Earth,  Through Gods high sufferance for the tryal of man,  By falsities and lyes the greatest part  Of Mankind they corrupted to forsake  God their Creator, and th' invisible  Glory of him, that made them, to transform                          370  Oft to the Image of a Brute, adorn'd  With gay Religions full of Pomp and Gold,  And Devils to adore for Deities:  Then were they known to men by various Names,  And various Idols through the Heathen World.  Say, Muse, their Names then known, who first, who last,  Rous'd from the slumber, on that fiery Couch,  At thir great Emperors call, as next in worth  Came singly where he stood on the bare strand,  While the promiscuous croud stood yet aloof?                        380  The chief were those who from the Pit of Hell  Roaming to seek their prey on earth, durst fix  Their Seats long after next the Seat of God,  Their Altars by his Altar, Gods ador'd  Among the Nations round, and durst abide  Jehovah thundring out of Sion, thron'd  Between the Cherubim; yea, often plac'd  Within his Sanctuary it self their Shrines,  Abominations; and with cursed things  His holy Rites, and solemn Feasts profan'd,                         390  And with their darkness durst affront his light.  First Moloch, horrid King besmear'd with blood  Of human sacrifice, and parents tears,  Though for the noyse of Drums and Timbrels loud  Their childrens cries unheard, that past through fire  To his grim Idol. Him the Ammonite  Worshipt in Rabba and her watry Plain,  In Argob and in Basan, to the stream  Of utmost Arnon. Nor content with such  Audacious neighbourhood, the wisest heart                           400  Of Solomon he led by fraud to build  His Temple right against the Temple of God  On that opprobrious Hill, and made his Grove  The pleasant Vally of Hinnom, Tophet thence  And black Gehenna call'd, the Type of Hell.  Next Chemos, th' obscene dread of Moabs Sons,  From Aroer to Nebo, and the wild  Of Southmost Abarim; in Hesebon  And Heronaim, Seons Realm, beyond  The flowry Dale of Sibma clad with Vines,                           410  And Eleale to th' Asphaltick Pool.  Peor his other Name, when he entic'd  Israel in Sittim on their march from Nile  To do him wanton rites, which cost them woe.  Yet thence his lustful Orgies he enlarg'd  Even to that Hill of scandal, by the Grove  Of Moloch homicide, lust hard by hate;  Till good Josiah drove them thence to Hell.  With these came they, who from the bordring flood  Of old Euphrates to the Brook that parts                            420  Egypt from Syrian ground, had general Names  Of Baalim and Ashtaroth, those male,  These Feminine. For Spirits when they please  Can either Sex assume, or both; so soft  And uncompounded is their Essence pure,  Not ti'd or manacl'd with joynt or limb,  Nor founded on the brittle strength of bones,  Like cumbrous flesh; but in what shape they choose  Dilated or condens't, bright or obscure,  Can execute their aerie purposes,                                   430  And works of love or enmity fulfill.  For those the Race of Israel oft forsook  Their living strength, and unfrequented left  His righteous Altar, bowing lowly down  To bestial Gods; for which their heads as low  Bow'd down in Battel, sunk before the Spear  Of despicable foes. With these in troop  Came Astoreth, whom the Phoenicians call'd  Astarte, Queen of Heav'n, with crescent Horns;  To whose bright Image nightly by the Moon                           440  Sidonian Virgins paid their Vows and Songs,  In Sion also not unsung, where stood  Her Temple on th' offensive Mountain, built  By that uxorious King, whose heart though large,  Beguil'd by fair Idolatresses, fell  To Idols foul. Thammuz came next behind,  Whose annual wound in Lebanon allur'd  The Syrian Damsels to lament his fate  In amorous dittyes all a Summers day,  While smooth Adonis from his native Rock                            450  Ran purple to the Sea, suppos'd with blood  Of Thammuz yearly wounded: the Love-tale  Infected Sions daughters with like heat,  Whose wanton passions in the sacred Porch  Ezekiel saw, when by the Vision led  His eye survay'd the dark Idolatries  Of alienated Judah. Next came one  Who mourn'd in earnest, when the Captive Ark  Maim'd his brute Image, head and hands lopt off  In his own Temple, on the grunsel edge,                             460  Where he fell flat, and sham'd his Worshipers:  Dagon his Name, Sea Monster, upward Man  And downward Fish: yet had his Temple high  Rear'd in Azotus, dreaded through the Coast  Of Palestine, in Gath and Ascalon,  And Accaron and Gaza's frontier bounds.  Him follow'd Rimmon, whose delightful Seat  Was fair Damascus, on the fertil Banks  Of Abbana and Pharphar, lucid streams.  He also against the house of God was bold:                          470  A Leper once he lost and gain'd a King,  Ahaz his sottish Conquerour, whom he drew  Gods Altar to disparage and displace  For one of Syrian mode, whereon to burn  His odious offrings, and adore the Gods  Whom he had vanquisht. After these appear'd  A crew who under Names of old Renown,  Osiris, Isis, Orus and their Train  With monstrous shapes and sorceries abus'd  Fanatic Egypt and her Priests, to seek                              480  Thir wandring Gods disguis'd in brutish forms  Rather then human. Nor did Israel scape  Th' infection when their borrow'd Gold compos'd  The Calf in Oreb: and the Rebel King  Doubl'd that sin in Bethel and in Dan,  Lik'ning his Maker to the Grazed Ox,  Jehovah, who in one Night when he pass'd  From Egypt marching, equal'd with one stroke  Both her first born and all her bleating Gods.  Belial came last, then whom a Spirit more lewd                      490  Fell not from Heaven, or more gross to love  Vice for it self: To him no Temple stood  Or Altar smoak'd; yet who more oft then hee  In Temples and at Altars, when the Priest  Turns Atheist, as did Ely's Sons, who fill'd  With lust and violence the house of God.  In Courts and Palaces he also Reigns  And in luxurious Cities, where the noyse  Of riot ascends above thir loftiest Towrs,  And injury and outrage: And when Night                              500  Darkens the Streets, then wander forth the Sons  Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.  Witness the Streets of Sodom, and that night  In Gibeah, when hospitable Dores  Yielded thir Matrons to prevent worse rape.  These were the prime in order and in might;  The rest were long to tell, though far renown'd,  Th' Ionian Gods, of Javans Issue held  Gods, yet confest later then Heav'n and Earth  Thir boasted Parents; Titan Heav'ns first born                      510  With his enormous brood, and birthright seis'd  By younger Saturn, he from mightier Jove  His own and Rhea's Son like measure found;  So Jove usurping reign'd: these first in Creet  And Ida known, thence on the Snowy top  Of cold Olympus rul'd the middle Air  Thir highest Heav'n; or on the Delphian Cliff,  Or in Dodona, and through all the bounds  Of Doric Land; or who with Saturn old  Fled over Adria to th' Hesperian Fields,                            520  And ore the Celtic roam'd the utmost Isles.  All these and more came flocking; but with looks  Down cast and damp, yet such wherein appear'd  Obscure som glimps of joy, to have found thir chief  Not in despair, to have found themselves not lost  In loss it self; which on his count'nance cast  Like doubtful hue: but he his wonted pride  Soon recollecting, with high words, that bore  Semblance of worth not substance, gently rais'd  Their fainted courage, and dispel'd their fears.                    530  Then strait commands that at the warlike sound  Of Trumpets loud and Clarions be upreard  His mighty Standard; that proud honour claim'd  Azazel as his right, a Cherube tall:  Who forthwith from the glittering Staff unfurld  Th' Imperial Ensign, which full high advanc't  Shon like a Meteor streaming to the Wind  With Gemms and Golden lustre rich imblaz'd,  Seraphic arms and Trophies: all the while  Sonorous mettal blowing Martial sounds:                             540  At which the universal Host upsent  A shout that tore Hells Concave, and beyond  Frighted the Reign of Chaos and old Night.  All in a moment through the gloom were seen  Ten thousand Banners rise into the Air  With Orient Colours waving: with them rose  A Forrest huge of Spears: and thronging Helms  Appear'd, and serried Shields in thick array  Of depth immeasurable: Anon they move  In perfect Phalanx to the Dorian mood                               550  Of Flutes and soft Recorders; such as rais'd  To highth of noblest temper Hero's old  Arming to Battel, and in stead of rage  Deliberate valour breath'd, firm and unmov'd  With dread of death to flight or foul retreat,  Nor wanting power to mitigate and swage  With solemn touches, troubl'd thoughts, and chase  Anguish and doubt and fear and sorrow and pain  From mortal or immortal minds. Thus they  Breathing united force with fixed thought                           560  Mov'd on in silence to soft Pipes that charm'd  Thir painful steps o're the burnt soyle; and now  Advanc't in view they stand, a horrid Front  Of dreadful length and dazling Arms, in guise  Of Warriers old with order'd Spear and Shield,  Awaiting what command thir mighty Chief  Had to impose: He through the armed Files  Darts his experienc't eye, and soon traverse  The whole Battalion views, thir order due,  Thir visages and stature as of Gods,                                570  Thir number last he summs. And now his heart  Distends with pride, and hardning in his strength  Glories: For never since created man,  Met such imbodied force, as nam'd with these  Could merit more then that small infantry  Warr'd on by Cranes: though all the Giant brood  Of Phlegra with th' Heroic Race were joyn'd  That fought at Theb's and Ilium, on each side  Mixt with auxiliar Gods; and what resounds  In Fable or Romance of Uthers Son                                   580  Begirt with British and Armoric Knights;  And all who since, Baptiz'd or Infidel  Jousted in Aspramont or Montalban,  Damasco, or Marocco, or Trebisond,  Or whom Biserta sent from Afric shore  When Charlemain with all his Peerage fell  By Fontarabbia. Thus far these beyond  Compare of mortal prowess, yet observ'd  Thir dread Commander: he above the rest  In shape and gesture proudly eminent                                590  Stood like a Towr; his form had yet not lost  All her Original brightness, nor appear'd  Less then Arch Angel ruind, and th' excess  Of Glory obscur'd: As when the Sun new ris'n  Looks through the Horizontal misty Air  Shorn of his Beams, or from behind the Moon  In dim Eclips disastrous twilight sheds  On half the Nations, and with fear of change  Perplexes Monarchs. Dark'n'd so, yet shon  Above them all th' Arch Angel: but his face                         600  Deep scars of Thunder had intrencht, and care  Sat on his faded cheek, but under Browes  Of dauntless courage, and considerate Pride  Waiting revenge: cruel his eye, but cast  Signs of remorse and passion to behold  The fellows of his crime, the followers rather  (Far other once beheld in bliss) condemn'd  For ever now to have their lot in pain,  Millions of Spirits for his fault amerc't  Of Heav'n, and from Eternal Splendors flung                         610  For his revolt, yet faithfull how they stood,  Thir Glory witherd. As when Heavens Fire  Hath scath'd the Forrest Oaks, or Mountain Pines,  With singed top their stately growth though bare  Stands on the blasted Heath. He now prepar'd  To speak; whereat their doubl'd Ranks they bend  From Wing to Wing, and half enclose him round  With all his Peers: attention held them mute.  Thrice he assayd, and thrice in spite of scorn,  Tears such as Angels weep, burst forth: at last                     620  Words interwove with sighs found out their way.  O Myriads of immortal Spirits, O Powers  Matchless, but with th' Almighty, and that strife  Was not inglorious, though th' event was dire,  As this place testifies, and this dire change  Hateful to utter: but what power of mind  Foreseeing or presaging, from the Depth  Of knowledge past or present, could have fear'd,  How such united force of Gods, how such  As stood like these, could ever know repulse?                       630  For who can yet beleeve, though after loss,  That all these puissant Legions, whose exile  Hath emptied Heav'n, shall faile to re-ascend  Self-rais'd, and repossess their native seat.  For me, be witness all the Host of Heav'n,  If counsels different, or danger shun'd  By me, have lost our hopes. But he who reigns  Monarch in Heav'n, till then as one secure  Sat on his Throne, upheld by old repute,  Consent or custome, and his Regal State                             640  Put forth at full, but still his strength conceal'd,  Which tempted our attempt, and wrought our fall.  Henceforth his might we know, and know our own  So as not either to provoke, or dread  New warr, provok't; our better part remains  To work in close design, by fraud or guile  What force effected not: that he no less  At length from us may find, who overcomes  By force, hath overcome but half his foe.  Space may produce new Worlds; whereof so rife                       650  There went a fame in Heav'n that he ere long  Intended to create, and therein plant  A generation, whom his choice regard  Should favour equal to the Sons of Heaven:  Thither, if but to prie, shall be perhaps  Our first eruption, thither or elsewhere:  For this Infernal Pit shall never hold  Caelestial Spirits in Bondage, nor th' Abysse  Long under darkness cover. But these thoughts  Full Counsel must mature: Peace is despaird,                        660  For who can think Submission? Warr then, Warr  Open or understood must be resolv'd.  He spake: and to confirm his words, out-flew  Millions of flaming swords, drawn from the thighs  Of mighty Cherubim; the sudden blaze  Far round illumin'd hell: highly they rag'd  Against the Highest, and fierce with grasped arm's  Clash'd on their sounding shields the din of war,  Hurling defiance toward the vault of Heav'n.  There stood a Hill not far whose griesly top                        670  Belch'd fire and rowling smoak; the rest entire  Shon with a glossie scurff, undoubted sign  That in his womb was hid metallic Ore,  The work of Sulphur. Thither wing'd with speed  A numerous Brigad hasten'd. As when bands  Of Pioners with Spade and Pickaxe arm'd  Forerun the Royal Camp, to trench a Field,  Or cast a Rampart. Mammon led them on,  Mammon, the least erected Spirit that fell  From heav'n, for ev'n in heav'n his looks and thoughts              680  Were always downward bent, admiring more  The riches of Heav'ns pavement, trod'n Gold,  Then aught divine or holy else enjoy'd  In vision beatific: by him first  Men also, and by his suggestion taught,  Ransack'd the Center, and with impious hands  Rifl'd the bowels of thir mother Earth  For Treasures better hid. Soon had his crew  Op'nd into the Hill a spacious wound  And dig'd out ribs of Gold. Let none admire                         690  That riches grow in Hell; that soyle may best  Deserve the pretious bane. And here let those  Who boast in mortal things, and wondring tell  Of Babel, and the works of Memphian Kings,  Learn how thir greatest Monuments of Fame,  And Strength and Art are easily outdone  By Spirits reprobate, and in an hour  What in an age they with incessant toyle  And hands innumerable scarce perform.  Nigh on the Plain in many cells prepar'd,                           700  That underneath had veins of liquid fire  Sluc'd from the Lake, a second multitude  With wondrous Art founded the massie Ore,  Severing each kinde, and scum'd the Bullion dross:  A third as soon had form'd within the ground  A various mould, and from the boyling cells  By strange conveyance fill'd each hollow nook,  As in an Organ from one blast of wind  To many a row of Pipes the sound-board breaths.  Anon out of the earth a Fabrick huge                                710  Rose like an Exhalation, with the sound  Of Dulcet Symphonies and voices sweet,  Built like a Temple, where Pilasters round  Were set, and Doric pillars overlaid  With Golden Architrave; nor did there want  Cornice or Freeze, with bossy Sculptures grav'n,  The Roof was fretted Gold. Not Babilon,  Nor great Alcairo such magnificence  Equal'd in all thir glories, to inshrine  Belus or Serapis thir Gods, or seat                                 720  Thir Kings, when Aegypt with Assyria strove  In wealth and luxurie. Th' ascending pile  Stood fixt her stately highth, and strait the dores  Op'ning thir brazen foulds discover wide  Within, her ample spaces, o're the smooth  And level pavement: from the arched roof  Pendant by suttle Magic many a row  Of Starry Lamps and blazing Cressets fed  With Naphtha and Asphaltus yeilded light  As from a sky. The hasty multitude                                  730  Admiring enter'd, and the work some praise  And some the Architect: his hand was known  In Heav'n by many a Towred structure high,  Where Scepter'd Angels held thir residence,  And sat as Princes, whom the supreme King  Exalted to such power, and gave to rule,  Each in his Herarchie, the Orders bright.  Nor was his name unheard or unador'd  In ancient Greece; and in Ausonian land  Men call'd him Mulciber; and how he fell                            740  From Heav'n, they fabl'd, thrown by angry Jove  Sheer o're the Chrystal Battlements: from Morn  To Noon he fell, from Noon to dewy Eve,  A Summers day; and with the setting Sun  Dropt from the Zenith like a falling Star,  On Lemnos th' Aegaean Ile: thus they relate,  Erring; for he with this rebellious rout  Fell long before; nor aught avail'd him now  To have built in Heav'n high Towrs; nor did he scape  By all his Engins, but was headlong sent                            750  With his industrious crew to build in hell.  Mean while the winged Haralds by command  Of Sovran power, with awful Ceremony  And Trumpets sound throughout the Host proclaim  A solemn Councel forthwith to be held  At Pandaemonium, the high Capital  Of Satan and his Peers: thir summons call'd  From every Band and squared Regiment
087s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

By place or choice the worthiest; they anon  With hundreds and with thousands trooping came                      760  Attended: all access was throng'd, the Gates  And Porches wide, but chief the spacious Hall  (Though like a cover'd field, where Champions bold  Wont ride in arm'd, and at the Soldans chair  Defi'd the best of Panim chivalry  To mortal combat or carreer with Lance)  Thick swarm'd, both on the ground and in the air,  Brusht with the hiss of russling wings. As Bees  In spring time, when the Sun with Taurus rides,  Poure forth thir populous youth about the Hive                      770  In clusters; they among fresh dews and flowers  Flie to and fro, or on the smoothed Plank,  The suburb of thir Straw-built Cittadel,  New rub'd with Baume, expatiate and confer  Thir State affairs. So thick the aerie crowd  Swarm'd and were straitn'd; till the Signal giv'n,  Behold a wonder! they but now who seemd  In bigness to surpass Earths Giant Sons  Now less then smallest Dwarfs, in narrow room  Throng numberless, like that Pigmean Race                           780  Beyond the Indian Mount, or Faerie Elves,  Whose midnight Revels, by a Forrest side  Or Fountain some belated Peasant sees,  Or dreams he sees, while over head the Moon  Sits Arbitress, and neerer to the Earth  Wheels her pale course, they on thir mirth & dance  Intent, with jocond Music charm his ear;  At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds.  Thus incorporeal Spirits to smallest forms  Reduc'd thir shapes immense, and were at large,                     790  Though without number still amidst the Hall  Of that infernal Court. But far within  And in thir own dimensions like themselves  The great Seraphic Lords and Cherubim  In close recess and secret conclave sat  A thousand Demy-Gods on golden seat's,  Frequent and full. After short silence then  And summons read, the great consult began.  Notes:  504, 505 hospitable Dores Yielded thir Matrons] the hospitable  door Expos'd a Matron 1674.  530 fainted] fa(i)nting 1674.  703 founded] found out 1674.  737 Herarchie] Hierarchie 1674.  The End Of The First Book.





BOOK II.

THE ARGUMENT.

The Consultation begun, Satan debates whether another Battelbe to be hazarded for the recovery of Heaven: some advise it,others dissuade: A third proposal is prefer'd, mention'd beforeby Satan, to search the truth of that Prophesie or Tradition inHeaven concerning another world, and another kind of creatureequal or much inferiour to themselves, about this time to becreated: Thir doubt who shall be sent on this difficult search:Satan thir cheif undertakes alone the voyage, is honourd andapplauded. The Councel thus ended, the rest betake them severalwayes and to several imployments, as thir inclinations lead them,to entertain the time till Satan return. He passes on his Journeyto Hell Gates, finds them shut, and who sat there to guard them,by whom at length they are op'nd, and discover to him the greatGulf between Hell and Heaven; with what difficulty he passesthrough, directed by Chaos the Power of that place, to the sightof this new World which he sought.

Note: who shall be sent] who should be sent 1669.

High on a Throne of Royal State, which far
099s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

Outshon the wealth of Ormus and of Ind,  Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand  Showrs on her Kings Barbaric Pearl & Gold,  Satan exalted sat, by merit rais'd  To that bad eminence; and from despair  Thus high uplifted beyond hope, aspires  Beyond thus high, insatiate to pursue  Vain Warr with Heav'n, and by success untaught  His proud imaginations thus displaid.                                10  Powers and Dominions, Deities of Heav'n,  For since no deep within her gulf can hold  Immortal vigor, though opprest and fall'n,  I give not Heav'n for lost. From this descent  Celestial vertues rising, will appear  More glorious and more dread then from no fall,  And trust themselves to fear no second fate:  Mee though just right, and the fixt Laws of Heav'n  Did first create your Leader, next, free choice,  With what besides, in Counsel or in Fight,                           20  Hath bin achievd of merit, yet this loss  Thus farr at least recover'd, hath much more  Establisht in a safe unenvied Throne  Yielded with full consent. The happier state  In Heav'n, which follows dignity, might draw  Envy from each inferior; but who here  Will envy whom the highest place exposes  Formost to stand against the Thunderers aime  Your bulwark, and condemns to greatest share  Of endless pain? where there is then no good                         30  For which to strive, no strife can grow up there  From Faction; for none sure will claim in hell  Precedence, none, whose portion is so small  Of present pain, that with ambitious mind  Will covet more. With this advantage then  To union, and firm Faith, and firm accord,  More then can be in Heav'n, we now return  To claim our just inheritance of old,  Surer to prosper then prosperity  Could have assur'd us; and by what best way,                         40  Whether of open Warr or covert guile,  We now debate; who can advise, may speak.  He ceas'd, and next him Moloc, Scepter'd King  Stood up, the strongest and the fiercest Spirit  That fought in Heav'n; now fiercer by despair:  His trust was with th' Eternal to be deem'd  Equal in strength, and rather then be less  Car'd not to be at all; with that care lost  Went all his fear: of God, or Hell, or worse  He reckd not, and these words thereafter spake.                      50  My sentence is for open Warr: Of Wiles,  More unexpert, I boast not: them let those  Contrive who need, or when they need, not now.  For while they sit contriving, shall the rest,  Millions that stand in Arms, and longing wait  The Signal to ascend, sit lingring here  Heav'ns fugitives, and for thir dwelling place  Accept this dark opprobrious Den of shame,  The Prison of his Tyranny who Reigns  By our delay? no, let us rather choose                               60  Arm'd with Hell flames and fury all at once  O're Heav'ns high Towrs to force resistless way,  Turning our Tortures into horrid Arms  Against the Torturer; when to meet the noise  Of his Almighty Engin he shall hear  Infernal Thunder, and for Lightning see  Black fire and horror shot with equal rage  Among his Angels; and his Throne it self  Mixt with Tartarean Sulphur, and strange fire,  His own invented Torments. But perhaps                               70  The way seems difficult and steep to scale  With upright wing against a higher foe.  Let such bethink them, if the sleepy drench  Of that forgetful Lake benumme not still,  That in our proper motion we ascend  Up to our native seat: descent and fall  To us is adverse. Who but felt of late  When the fierce Foe hung on our brok'n Rear  Insulting, and pursu'd us through the Deep,  With what compulsion and laborious flight                            80  We sunk thus low? Th' ascent is easie then;  Th' event is fear'd; should we again provoke  Our stronger, some worse way his wrath may find  To our destruction: if there be in Hell  Fear to be worse destroy'd: what can be worse  Then to dwell here, driv'n out from bliss, condemn'd  In this abhorred deep to utter woe;  Where pain of unextinguishable fire  Must exercise us without hope of end  The Vassals of his anger, when the Scourge                           90  Inexorably, and the torturing houre  Calls us to Penance? More destroy'd then thus  We should be quite abolisht and expire.  What fear we then? what doubt we to incense  His utmost ire? which to the highth enrag'd,  Will either quite consume us, and reduce  To nothing this essential, happier farr  Then miserable to have eternal being:  Or if our substance be indeed Divine,  And cannot cease to be, we are at worst                             100  On this side nothing; and by proof we feel  Our power sufficient to disturb his Heav'n,  And with perpetual inrodes to Allarme,  Though inaccessible, his fatal Throne:  Which if not Victory is yet Revenge.  He ended frowning, and his look denounc'd  Desperate revenge, and Battel dangerous  To less then Gods. On th' other side up rose  Belial, in act more graceful and humane;  A fairer person lost not Heav'n; he seemd                           110  For dignity compos'd and high exploit:  But all was false and hollow; though his Tongue  Dropt Manna, and could make the worse appear  The better reason, to perplex and dash  Maturest Counsels: for his thoughts were low;  To vice industrious, but to Nobler deeds  Timorous and slothful: yet he pleas'd the eare,  And with perswasive accent thus began.  I should be much for open Warr, O Peers,  As not behind in hate; if what was urg'd                            120  Main reason to perswade immediate Warr,  Did not disswade me most, and seem to cast  Ominous conjecture on the whole success:  When he who most excels in fact of Arms,  In what he counsels and in what excels  Mistrustful, grounds his courage on despair  And utter dissolution, as the scope  Of all his aim, after some dire revenge.  First, what Revenge? the Towrs of Heav'n are fill'd  With Armed watch, that render all access                            130  Impregnable; oft on the bordering Deep  Encamp thir Legions, or with obscure wing  Scout farr and wide into the Realm of night,  Scorning surprize. Or could we break our way  By force, and at our heels all Hell should rise  With blackest Insurrection, to confound  Heav'ns purest Light, yet our great Enemie  All incorruptible would on his Throne  Sit unpolluted, and th' Ethereal mould  Incapable of stain would soon expel                                 140  Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire  Victorious. Thus repuls'd, our final hope  Is flat despair: we must exasperate  Th' Almighty Victor to spend all his rage,  And that must end us, that must be our cure,  To be no more; sad cure; for who would loose,  Though full of pain, this intellectual being,  Those thoughts that wander through Eternity,  To perish rather, swallowd up and lost  In the wide womb of uncreated night,                                150  Devoid of sense and motion? and who knows,  Let this be good, whether our angry Foe  Can give it, or will ever? how he can  Is doubtful; that he never will is sure.  Will he, so wise, let loose at once his ire,  Belike through impotence, or unaware,  To give his Enemies thir wish, and end  Them in his anger, whom his anger saves  To punish endless? wherefore cease we then?  Say they who counsel Warr, we are decreed,                          160  Reserv'd and destin'd to Eternal woe;  Whatever doing, what can we suffer more,  What can we suffer worse? is this then worst,  Thus sitting, thus consulting, thus in Arms?  What when we fled amain, pursu'd and strook  With Heav'ns afflicting Thunder, and besought  The Deep to shelter us? this Hell then seem'd  A refuge from those wounds: or when we lay  Chain'd on the burning Lake? that sure was worse.  What if the breath that kindl'd those grim fires                    170  Awak'd should blow them into sevenfold rage  And plunge us in the Flames? or from above  Should intermitted vengeance Arme again  His red right hand to plague us? what if all  Her stores were op'n'd, and this Firmament  Of Hell should spout her Cataracts of Fire,  Impendent horrors, threatning hideous fall  One day upon our heads; while we perhaps  Designing or exhorting glorious Warr,  Caught in a fierie Tempest shall be hurl'd                          180  Each on his rock transfixt, the sport and prey  Of racking whirlwinds, or for ever sunk  Under yon boyling Ocean, wrapt in Chains;  There to converse with everlasting groans,  Unrespited, unpitied, unrepreevd,  Ages of hopeless end; this would be worse.  Warr therefore, open or conceal'd, alike  My voice disswades; for what can force or guile  With him, or who deceive his mind, whose eye  Views all things at one view? he from heav'ns highth                190  All these our motions vain, sees and derides;  Not more Almighty to resist our might  Then wise to frustrate all our plots and wiles.  Shall we then live thus vile, the race of Heav'n  Thus trampl'd, thus expell'd to suffer here  Chains and these Torments? better these then worse  By my advice; since fate inevitable  Subdues us, and Omnipotent Decree,  The Victors will. To suffer, as to doe,  Our strength is equal, nor the Law unjust                           200  That so ordains: this was at first resolv'd,  If we were wise, against so great a foe  Contending, and so doubtful what might fall.  I laugh, when those who at the Spear are bold  And vent'rous, if that fail them, shrink and fear  What yet they know must follow, to endure  Exile, or ignominy, or bonds, or pain,  The sentence of thir Conquerour: This is now  Our doom; which if we can sustain and bear,  Our Supream Foe in time may much remit                              210  His anger, and perhaps thus farr remov'd  Not mind us not offending, satisfi'd  With what is punish't; whence these raging fires  Will slack'n, if his breath stir not thir flames.  Our purer essence then will overcome  Thir noxious vapour, or enur'd not feel,  Or chang'd at length, and to the place conformd  In temper and in nature, will receive  Familiar the fierce heat, and void of pain;  This horror will grow milde, this darkness light,                   220  Besides what hope the never-ending flight  Of future days may bring, what chance, what change  Worth waiting, since our present lot appeers  For happy though but ill, for ill not worst,  If we procure not to our selves more woe.  Thus Belial with words cloath'd in reasons garb  Counsel'd ignoble ease, and peaceful sloath,  Not peace: and after him thus Mammon spake.  Either to disinthrone the King of Heav'n  We warr, if warr be best, or to regain                              230  Our own right lost: him to unthrone we then  May hope, when everlasting Fate shall yeild  To fickle Chance, and Chaos judge the strife:  The former vain to hope argues as vain  The latter: for what place can be for us  Within Heav'ns bound, unless Heav'ns Lord supream  We overpower? Suppose he should relent  And publish Grace to all, on promise made  Of new Subjection; with what eyes could we  Stand in his presence humble, and receive                           240  Strict Laws impos'd, to celebrate his Throne  With warbl'd Hymns, and to his Godhead sing  Forc't Halleluiah's; while he Lordly sits  Our envied Sovran, and his Altar breathes  Ambrosial Odours and Ambrosial Flowers,  Our servile offerings. This must be our task  In Heav'n, this our delight; how wearisom  Eternity so spent in worship paid  To whom we hate. Let us not then pursue  By force impossible, by leave obtain'd                              250  Unacceptable, though in Heav'n, our state  Of splendid vassalage, but rather seek  Our own good from our selves, and from our own  Live to our selves, though in this vast recess,  Free, and to none accountable, preferring  Hard liberty before the easie yoke  Of servile Pomp. Our greatness will appear  Then most conspicuous, when great things of small,  Useful of hurtful, prosperous of adverse  We can create, and in what place so e're                            260  Thrive under evil, and work ease out of pain  Through labour and endurance. This deep world  Of darkness do we dread? How oft amidst  Thick clouds and dark doth Heav'ns all-ruling Sire  Choose to reside, his Glory unobscur'd,  And with the Majesty of darkness round  Covers his Throne; from whence deep thunders roar  Must'ring thir rage, and Heav'n resembles Hell?  As he our Darkness, cannot we his Light  Imitate when we please? This Desart soile                           270  Wants not her hidden lustre, Gemms and Gold;  Nor want we skill or art, from whence to raise  Magnificence; and what can Heav'n shew more?  Our torments also may in length of time  Become our Elements, these piercing Fires  As soft as now severe, our temper chang'd  Into their temper; which must needs remove  The sensible of pain. All things invite  To peaceful Counsels, and the settl'd State  Of order, how in safety best we may                                 280  Compose our present evils, with regard  Of what we are and where, dismissing quite  All thoughts of Warr: ye have what I advise.  He scarce had finisht, when such murmur filld  Th' Assembly, as when hollow Rocks retain  The sound of blustring winds, which all night long  Had rous'd the Sea, now with hoarse cadence lull  Sea-faring men orewatcht, whose Bark by chance  Or Pinnace anchors in a craggy Bay  After the Tempest: Such applause was heard                          290  As Mammon ended, and his Sentence pleas'd,  Advising peace: for such another Field  They dreaded worse then Hell: so much the fear  Of Thunder and the Sword of Michael  Wrought still within them; and no less desire  To found this nether Empire, which might rise  By pollicy, and long process of time,  In emulation opposite to Heav'n.  Which when Beelzebub perceiv'd, then whom,  Satan except, none higher sat, with grave                           300  Aspect he rose, and in his rising seem'd  A Pillar of State; deep on his Front engraven  Deliberation sat and publick care;  And Princely counsel in his face yet shon,  Majestick though in ruin: sage he stood  With Atlantean shoulders fit to bear  The weight of mightiest Monarchies; his look  Drew audience and attention still as Night  Or Summers Noon-tide air, while thus he spake.  Thrones and imperial Powers, off-spring of heav'n,                  310  Ethereal Vertues; or these Titles now  Must we renounce, and changing stile be call'd  Princes of Hell? for so the popular vote  Inclines, here to continue, and build up here  A growing Empire; doubtless; while we dream,  And know not that the King of Heav'n hath doom'd  This place our dungeon, not our safe retreat  Beyond his Potent arm, to live exempt  From Heav'ns high jurisdiction, in new League  Banded against his Throne, but to remaine                           320  In strictest bondage, though thus far remov'd,  Under th' inevitable curb, reserv'd  His captive multitude: For he, be sure,  In highth or depth, still first and last will Reign  Sole King, and of his Kingdom loose no part  By our revolt, but over Hell extend  His Empire, and with Iron Scepter rule  Us here, as with his Golden those in Heav'n.  What sit we then projecting Peace and Warr?  Warr hath determin'd us, and foild with loss                        330  Irreparable; tearms of peace yet none  Voutsaf't or sought; for what peace will be giv'n  To us enslav'd, but custody severe,  And stripes, and arbitrary punishment  Inflicted? and what peace can we return,  But to our power hostility and hate,  Untam'd reluctance, and revenge though slow,  Yet ever plotting how the Conquerour least  May reap his conquest, and may least rejoyce  In doing what we most in suffering feel?                            340  Nor will occasion want, nor shall we need  With dangerous expedition to invade  Heav'n, whose high walls fear no assault or Siege,  Or ambush from the Deep. What if we find  Some easier enterprize? There is a place  (If ancient and prophetic fame in Heav'n  Err not) another World, the happy seat  Of som new Race call'd Man, about this time  To be created like to us, though less  In power and excellence, but favour'd more                          350  Of him who rules above; so was his will  Pronounc'd among the Gods, and by an Oath,  That shook Heav'ns whol circumference, confirm'd.  Thither let us bend all our thoughts, to learn  What creatures there inhabit, of what mould,  Or substance, how endu'd, and what thir Power,  And where thir weakness, how attempted best,  By force or suttlety: Though Heav'n be shut,  And Heav'ns high Arbitrator sit secure  In his own strength, this place may lye expos'd                     360  The utmost border of his Kingdom, left  To their defence who hold it: here perhaps  Som advantagious act may be achiev'd  By sudden onset, either with Hell fire  To waste his whole Creation, or possess  All as our own, and drive as we were driven,  The punie habitants, or if not drive,  Seduce them to our Party, that thir God  May prove thir foe, and with repenting hand  Abolish his own works. This would surpass                           370  Common revenge, and interrupt his joy  In our Confusion, and our Joy upraise  In his disturbance; when his darling Sons  Hurl'd headlong to partake with us, shall curse  Thir frail Originals, and faded bliss,  Faded so soon. Advise if this be worth  Attempting, or to sit in darkness here  Hatching vain Empires. Thus Beelzebub  Pleaded his devilish Counsel, first devis'd  By Satan, and in part propos'd: for whence,                         380  But from the Author of all ill could Spring  So deep a malice, to confound the race  Of mankind in one root, and Earth with Hell  To mingle and involve, done all to spite  The great Creatour? But thir spite still serves  His glory to augment. The bold design  Pleas'd highly those infernal States, and joy  Sparkl'd in all thir eyes; with full assent  They vote: whereat his speech he thus renews.  Well have ye judg'd, well ended long debate,                        390  Synod of Gods, and like to what ye are,  Great things resolv'd; which from the lowest deep  Will once more lift us up, in spight of Fate,  Neerer our ancient Seat; perhaps in view  Of those bright confines, whence with neighbouring Arms  And opportune excursion we may chance  Re-enter Heav'n; or else in some milde Zone  Dwell not unvisited of Heav'ns fair Light  Secure, and at the brightning Orient beam  Purge off this gloom; the soft delicious Air,                       400  To heal the scarr of these corrosive Fires  Shall breath her balme. But first whom shall we send  In search of this new world, whom shall we find  Sufficient? who shall tempt with wandring feet  The dark unbottom'd infinite Abyss  And through the palpable obscure find out  His uncouth way, or spread his aerie flight  Upborn with indefatigable wings  Over the vast abrupt, ere he arrive  The happy Ile; what strength, what art can then                     410  Suffice, or what evasion bear him safe  Through the strict Senteries and Stations thick  Of Angels watching round? Here he had need  All circumspection, and we now no less  Choice in our suffrage; for on whom we send,  The weight of all and our last hope relies.  This said, he sat; and expectation held  His look suspence, awaiting who appeer'd  To second, or oppose, or undertake  The perilous attempt: but all sat mute,                             420  Pondering the danger with deep thoughts; and each  In others count'nance red his own dismay  Astonisht: none among the choice and prime  Of those Heav'n-warring Champions could be found  So hardie as to proffer or accept  Alone the dreadful voyage; till at last  Satan, whom now transcendent glory rais'd  Above his fellows, with Monarchal pride  Conscious of highest worth, unmov'd thus spake.  O Progeny of Heav'n, Empyreal Thrones,                              430  With reason hath deep silence and demurr  Seis'd us, though undismaid: long is the way  And hard, that out of Hell leads up to Light;  Our prison strong, this huge convex of Fire,  Outrageous to devour, immures us round  Ninefold, and gates of burning Adamant  Barr'd over us prohibit all egress.  These past, if any pass, the void profound  Of unessential Night receives him next  Wide gaping, and with utter loss of being                           440  Threatens him, plung'd in that abortive gulf.  If thence he scape into what ever world,  Or unknown Region, what remains him less  Then unknown dangers and as hard escape.  But I should ill become this Throne, O Peers,  And this Imperial Sov'ranty, adorn'd  With splendor, arm'd with power, if aught propos'd  And judg'd of public moment, in the shape  Of difficulty or danger could deterre  Me from attempting. Wherefore do I assume                           450  These Royalties, and not refuse to Reign,  Refusing to accept as great a share  Of hazard as of honour, due alike  To him who Reigns, and so much to him due  Of hazard more, as he above the rest  High honourd sits? Go therfore mighty powers,  Terror of Heav'n, though fall'n; intend at home,  While here shall be our home, what best may ease  The present misery, and render Hell  More tollerable; if there be cure or charm                          460  To respite or deceive, or slack the pain  Of this ill Mansion: intermit no watch  Against a wakeful Foe, while I abroad  Through all the coasts of dark destruction seek  Deliverance for us all: this enterprize  None shall partake with me. Thus saying rose  The Monarch, and prevented all reply,  Prudent, least from his resolution rais'd  Others among the chief might offer now  (Certain to be refus'd) what erst they feard;                       470  And so refus'd might in opinion stand  His rivals, winning cheap the high repute  Which he through hazard huge must earn. But they  Dreaded not more th' adventure then his voice  Forbidding; and at once with him they rose;  Thir rising all at once was as the sound  Of Thunder heard remote. Towards him they bend  With awful reverence prone; and as a God  Extoll him equal to the highest in Heav'n:  Nor fail'd they to express how much they prais'd,                   480  That for the general safety he despis'd  His own: for neither do the Spirits damn'd  Loose all thir vertue; least bad men should boast  Thir specious deeds on earth, which glory excites,  Or close ambition varnisht o're with zeal.  Thus they thir doubtful consultations dark  Ended rejoycing in thir matchless Chief:  As when from mountain tops the dusky clouds  Ascending, while the North wind sleeps, o'respread  Heav'ns chearful face, the lowring Element                          490  Scowls ore the dark'nd lantskip Snow, or showre;  If chance the radiant Sun with farewell sweet  Extend his ev'ning beam, the fields revive,  The birds thir notes renew, and bleating herds  Attest thir joy, that hill and valley rings.  O shame to men! Devil with Devil damn'd  Firm concord holds, men onely disagree  Of Creatures rational, though under hope  Of heavenly Grace: and God proclaiming peace,  Yet live in hatred, enmitie, and strife                             500  Among themselves, and levie cruel warres,  Wasting the Earth, each other to destroy:  As if (which might induce us to accord)  Man had not hellish foes anow besides,  That day and night for his destruction waite.  The Stygian Councel thus dissolv'd; and forth  In order came the grand infernal Peers,  Midst came thir mighty Paramount, and seemd  Alone th' Antagonist of Heav'n, nor less  Then Hells dread Emperour with pomp Supream,                        510  And God-like imitated State; him round  A Globe of fierie Seraphim inclos'd  With bright imblazonrie, and horrent Arms.  Then of thir Session ended they bid cry  With Trumpets regal sound the great result:  Toward the four winds four speedy Cherubim  Put to thir mouths the sounding Alchymie  By Haralds voice explain'd: the hollow Abyss  Heard farr and wide, and all the host of Hell  With deafning shout, return'd them loud acclaim.                    520  Thence more at ease thir minds and somwhat rais'd  By false presumptuous hope, the ranged powers  Disband, and wandring, each his several way  Pursues, as inclination or sad choice  Leads him perplext, where he may likeliest find  Truce to his restless thoughts, and entertain  The irksome hours, till his great Chief return.  Part on the Plain, or in the Air sublime  Upon the wing, or in swift race contend,  As at th' Olympian Games or Pythian fields;                         530  Part curb thir fierie Steeds, or shun the Goal  With rapid wheels, or fronted Brigads form.  As when to warn proud Cities warr appears  Wag'd in the troubl'd Skie, and Armies rush  To Battel in the Clouds, before each Van  Pric forth the Aerie Knights, and couch thir spears  Till thickest Legions close; with feats of Arms  From either end of Heav'n the welkin burns.  Others with vast Typhoean rage more fell  Rend up both Rocks and Hills, and ride the Air                      540  In whirlwind; Hell scarce holds the wilde uproar.  As when Alcides from Oealia Crown'd  With conquest, felt th' envenom'd robe, and tore  Through pain up by the roots Thessalian Pines,  And Lichas from the top of Oeta threw  Into th' Euboic Sea. Others more milde,  Retreated in a silent valley, sing  With notes Angelical to many a Harp  Thir own Heroic deeds and hapless fall  By doom of Battel; and complain that Fate                           550  Free Vertue should enthrall to Force or Chance.  Thir song was partial, but the harmony  (What could it less when Spirits immortal sing?)  Suspended Hell, and took with ravishment  The thronging audience. In discourse more sweet  (For Eloquence the Soul, Song charms the Sense,)  Others apart sat on a Hill retir'd,  In thoughts more elevate, and reason'd high  Of Providence, Foreknowledge, Will, and Fate,  Fixt Fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute,                       560  And found no end, in wandring mazes lost.  Of good and evil much they argu'd then,  Of happiness and final misery,  Passion and Apathie, and glory and shame,  Vain wisdom all, and false Philosophie:  Yet with a pleasing sorcerie could charm  Pain for a while or anguish, and excite  Fallacious hope, or arm th' obdured brest  With stubborn patience as with triple steel.  Another part in Squadrons and gross Bands,                          570  On bold adventure to discover wide  That dismal world, if any Clime perhaps  Might yeild them easier habitation, bend  Four ways thir flying March, along the Banks  Of four infernal Rivers that disgorge  Into the burning Lake thir baleful streams;  Abhorred Styx the flood of deadly hate,  Sad Acheron of sorrow, black and deep;  Cocytus, nam'd of lamentation loud  Heard on the ruful stream; fierce Phlegeton                         580  Whose waves of torrent fire inflame with rage.  Farr off from these a slow and silent stream,  Lethe the River of Oblivion roules  Her watrie Labyrinth, whereof who drinks,  Forthwith his former state and being forgets,  Forgets both joy and grief, pleasure and pain.  Beyond this flood a frozen Continent  Lies dark and wilde, beat with perpetual storms  Of Whirlwind and dire Hail, which on firm land  Thaws not, but gathers heap, and ruin seems                         590  Of ancient pile; all else deep snow and ice,  A gulf profound as that Serbonian Bog  Betwixt Damiata and mount Casius old,  Where Armies whole have sunk: the parching Air  Burns frore, and cold performs th' effect of Fire.  Thither by harpy-footed Furies hail'd,  At certain revolutions all the damn'd  Are brought: and feel by turns the bitter change  Of fierce extreams, extreams by change more fierce,  From Beds of raging Fire to starve in Ice                           600  Thir soft Ethereal warmth, and there to pine  Immovable, infixt, and frozen round,  Periods of time, thence hurried back to fire.  They ferry over this Lethean Sound  Both to and fro, thir sorrow to augment,  And wish and struggle, as they pass, to reach  The tempting stream, with one small drop to loose  In sweet forgetfulness all pain and woe,  All in one moment, and so neer the brink;  But fate withstands, and to oppose th' attempt                      610  Medusa with Gorgonian terror guards  The Ford, and of it self the water flies  All taste of living wight, as once it fled  The lip of Tantalus. Thus roving on  In confus'd march forlorn, th' adventrous Bands  With shuddring horror pale, and eyes agast  View'd first thir lamentable lot, and found  No rest: through many a dark and drearie Vaile  They pass'd, and many a Region dolorous,  O're many a Frozen, many a Fierie Alpe,                             620  Rocks, Caves, Lakes, Fens, Bogs, Dens, and shades of death,  A Universe of death, which God by curse  Created evil, for evil only good,  Where all life dies, death lives, and nature breeds,  Perverse, all monstrous, all prodigious things,  Abominable, inutterable, and worse  Then Fables yet have feign'd, or fear conceiv'd,  Gorgons and Hydra's, and Chimera's dire.
116s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

Mean while the Adversary of God and Man,  Satan with thoughts inflam'd of highest design,                     630  Puts on swift wings, and toward the Gates of Hell  Explores his solitary flight; som times  He scours the right hand coast, som times the left,  Now shaves with level wing the Deep, then soares  Up to the fiery concave touring high.  As when farr off at Sea a Fleet descri'd  Hangs in the Clouds, by Aequinoctial Winds  Close sailing from Bengala, or the Iles  Of Ternate and Tidore, whence Merchants bring  Thir spicie Drugs: they on the trading Flood                        640  Through the wide Ethiopian to the Cape  Ply stemming nightly toward the Pole. So seem'd  Farr off the flying Fiend: at last appeer  Hell bounds high reaching to the horrid Roof,  And thrice threefold the Gates; three folds were Brass  Three Iron, three of Adamantine Rock,  Impenitrable, impal'd with circling fire,  Yet unconsum'd. Before the Gates there sat
088s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

On either side a formidable shape;  The one seem'd Woman to the waste, and fair,                        650  But ended foul in many a scaly fould  Voluminous and vast, a Serpent arm'd  With mortal sting: about her middle round  A cry of Hell Hounds never ceasing bark'd  With wide Cerberean mouths full loud, and rung  A hideous Peal: yet, when they list, would creep,  If aught disturb'd thir noyse, into her woomb,  And kennel there, yet there still bark'd and howl'd  Within unseen. Farr less abhorrd then these  Vex'd Scylla bathing in the Sea that parts                          660  Calabria from the hoarce Trinacrian shore:  Nor uglier follow the Night-Hag, when call'd  In secret, riding through the Air she comes  Lur'd with the smell of infant blood, to dance  With Lapland Witches, while the labouring Moon  Eclipses at thir charms. The other shape,  If shape it might be call'd that shape had none  Distinguishable in member, joynt, or limb,  Or substance might be call'd that shadow seem'd,  For each seem'd either; black it stood as Night,                    670  Fierce as ten Furies, terrible as Hell,  And shook a dreadful Dart; what seem'd his head  The likeness of a Kingly Crown had on.  Satan was now at hand, and from his seat  The Monster moving onward came as fast,  With horrid strides, Hell trembled as he strode.  Th' undaunted Fiend what this might be admir'd,  Admir'd, not fear'd; God and his Son except,  Created thing naught vallu'd he nor shun'd;  And with disdainful look thus first began.                          680  Whence and what art thou, execrable shape,  That dar'st, though grim and terrible, advance  Thy miscreated Front athwart my way  To yonder Gates? through them I mean to pass,  That be assur'd, without leave askt of thee:  Retire, or taste thy folly, and learn by proof,  Hell-born, not to contend with Spirits of Heav'n.  To whom the Goblin full of wrauth reply'd,  Art thou that Traitor Angel, art thou hee,  Who first broke peace in Heav'n and Faith, till then                690  Unbrok'n, and in proud rebellious Arms  Drew after him the third part of Heav'ns Sons  Conjur'd against the highest, for which both Thou  And they outcast from God, are here condemn'd  To waste Eternal daies in woe and pain?  And reck'n'st thou thy self with Spirits of Heav'n,  Hell-doomd, and breath'st defiance here and scorn,  Where I reign King, and to enrage thee more,  Thy King and Lord? Back to thy punishment,  False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings,                         700  Least with a whip of Scorpions I pursue  Thy lingring, or with one stroke of this Dart  Strange horror seise thee, and pangs unfelt before.  So spake the grieslie terrour, and in shape,  So speaking and so threatning, grew ten fold  More dreadful and deform: on th' other side  Incenc't with indignation Satan stood  Unterrifi'd, and like a Comet burn'd,  That fires the length of Ophiucus huge  In th' Artick Sky, and from his horrid hair                         710  Shakes Pestilence and Warr. Each at the Head  Level'd his deadly aime; thir fatall hands  No second stroke intend, and such a frown  Each cast at th' other, as when two black Clouds  With Heav'ns Artillery fraught, come rattling on  Over the Caspian, then stand front to front  Hov'ring a space, till Winds the signal blow  To joyn thir dark Encounter in mid air:  So frownd the mighty Combatants, that Hell  Grew darker at thir frown, so matcht they stood;                    720  For never but once more was either like  To meet so great a foe: and now great deeds  Had been achiev'd, whereof all Hell had rung,  Had not the Snakie Sorceress that sat  Fast by Hell Gate, and kept the fatal Key,  Ris'n, and with hideous outcry rush'd between.  O Father, what intends thy hand, she cry'd,  Against thy only Son? What fury O Son,  Possesses thee to bend that mortal Dart  Against thy Fathers head? and know'st for whom;                     730  For him who sits above and laughs the while  At thee ordain'd his drudge, to execute  What e're his wrath, which he calls Justice, bids,  His wrath which one day will destroy ye both.  She spake, and at her words the hellish Pest  Forbore, then these to her Satan return'd:  So strange thy outcry, and thy words so strange  Thou interposest, that my sudden hand  Prevented spares to tell thee yet by deeds  What it intends; till first I know of thee,                         740  What thing thou art, thus double-form'd, and why  In this infernal Vaile first met thou call'st  Me Father, and that Fantasm call'st my Son?  I know thee not, nor ever saw till now  Sight more detestable then him and thee.  T' whom thus the Portress of Hell Gate reply'd;  Hast thou forgot me then, and do I seem  Now in thine eye so foul, once deemd so fair  In Heav'n, when at th' Assembly, and in sight  Of all the Seraphim with thee combin'd                              750  In bold conspiracy against Heav'ns King,  All on a sudden miserable pain  Surpris'd thee, dim thine eyes, and dizzie swumm  In darkness, while thy head flames thick and fast  Threw forth, till on the left side op'ning wide,  Likest to thee in shape and count'nance bright,  Then shining heav'nly fair, a Goddess arm'd  Out of thy head I sprung: amazement seis'd  All th' Host of Heav'n; back they recoild affraid  At first, and call'd me Sin, and for a Sign                         760  Portentous held me; but familiar grown,  I pleas'd, and with attractive graces won  The most averse, thee chiefly, who full oft  Thy self in me thy perfect image viewing  Becam'st enamour'd, and such joy thou took'st  With me in secret, that my womb conceiv'd  A growing burden. Mean while Warr arose,  And fields were fought in Heav'n; wherein remaind  (For what could else) to our Almighty Foe  Cleer Victory, to our part loss and rout                            770  Through all the Empyrean: down they fell  Driv'n headlong from the Pitch of Heaven, down  Into this Deep, and in the general fall  I also; at which time this powerful Key  Into my hand was giv'n, with charge to keep  These Gates for ever shut, which none can pass  Without my op'ning. Pensive here I sat  Alone, but long I sat not, till my womb  Pregnant by thee, and now excessive grown  Prodigious motion felt and rueful throes.                           780  At last this odious offspring whom thou seest  Thine own begotten, breaking violent way  Tore through my entrails, that with fear and pain  Distorted, all my nether shape thus grew  Transform'd: but he my inbred enemie  Forth issu'd, brandishing his fatal Dart  Made to destroy: I fled, and cry'd out Death;  Hell trembl'd at the hideous Name, and sigh'd  From all her Caves, and back resounded Death.  I fled, but he pursu'd (though more, it seems,                      790  Inflam'd with lust then rage) and swifter far,  Me overtook his mother all dismaid,  And in embraces forcible and foule  Ingendring with me, of that rape begot  These yelling Monsters that with ceasless cry  Surround me, as thou sawst, hourly conceiv'd  And hourly born, with sorrow infinite  To me, for when they list into the womb  That bred them they return, and howle and gnaw  My Bowels, their repast; then bursting forth                        800  Afresh with conscious terrours vex me round,  That rest or intermission none I find.  Before mine eyes in opposition sits  Grim Death my Son and foe, who sets them on,  And me his Parent would full soon devour  For want of other prey, but that he knows  His end with mine involvd; and knows that I  Should prove a bitter Morsel, and his bane,  When ever that shall be; so Fate pronounc'd.  But thou O Father, I forewarn thee, shun                            810  His deadly arrow; neither vainly hope  To be invulnerable in those bright Arms,  Though temper'd heav'nly, for that mortal dint,  Save he who reigns above, none can resist.  She finish'd, and the suttle Fiend his lore  Soon learnd, now milder, and thus answerd smooth.  Dear Daughter, since thou claim'st me for thy Sire,  And my fair Son here showst me, the dear pledge  Of dalliance had with thee in Heav'n, and joys  Then sweet, now sad to mention, through dire change                 820  Befalln us unforeseen, unthought of, know  I come no enemie, but to set free  From out this dark and dismal house of pain,  Both him and thee, and all the heav'nly Host  Of Spirits that in our just pretenses arm'd  Fell with us from on high: from them I go  This uncouth errand sole, and one for all  My self expose, with lonely steps to tread  Th' unfounded deep, & through the void immense  To search with wandring quest a place foretold                      830  Should be, and, by concurring signs, ere now  Created vast and round, a place of bliss  In the Pourlieues of Heav'n, and therein plac't  A race of upstart Creatures, to supply  Perhaps our vacant room, though more remov'd,  Least Heav'n surcharg'd with potent multitude  Might hap to move new broiles: Be this or aught  Then this more secret now design'd, I haste  To know, and this once known, shall soon return,  And bring ye to the place where Thou and Death                      840  Shall dwell at ease, and up and down unseen  Wing silently the buxom Air, imbalm'd  With odours; there ye shall be fed and fill'd  Immeasurably, all things shall be your prey.  He ceas'd, for both seemd highly pleasd, and Death  Grinnd horrible a gastly smile, to hear  His famine should be fill'd, and blest his mawe  Destin'd to that good hour: no less rejoyc'd  His mother bad, and thus bespake her Sire.  The key of this infernal Pit by due,                                850  And by command of Heav'ns all-powerful King  I keep, by him forbidden to unlock  These Adamantine Gates; against all force  Death ready stands to interpose his dart,  Fearless to be o'rematcht by living might.  But what ow I to his commands above  Who hates me, and hath hither thrust me down  Into this gloom of Tartarus profound,  To sit in hateful Office here confin'd,  Inhabitant of Heav'n, and heav'nlie-born,                           860  Here in perpetual agonie and pain,  With terrors and with clamors compasst round  Of mine own brood, that on my bowels feed:  Thou art my Father, thou my Author, thou  My being gav'st me; whom should I obey  But thee, whom follow? thou wilt bring me soon  To that new world of light and bliss, among  The Gods who live at ease, where I shall Reign  At thy right hand voluptuous, as beseems  Thy daughter and thy darling, without end.                          870  Thus saying, from her side the fatal Key,  Sad instrument of all our woe, she took;  And towards the Gate rouling her bestial train,  Forthwith the huge Portcullis high up drew,  Which but her self not all the Stygian powers  Could once have mov'd; then in the key-hole turns  Th' intricate wards, and every Bolt and Bar  Of massie Iron or sollid Rock with ease  Unfast'ns: on a sudden op'n flie  With impetuous recoile and jarring sound                            880  Th' infernal dores, and on thir hinges great  Harsh Thunder, that the lowest bottom shook  Of Erebus. She op'nd, but to shut  Excel'd her power; the Gates wide op'n stood,  That with extended wings a Bannerd Host  Under spread Ensigns marching might pass through  With Horse and Chariots rankt in loose array;  So wide they stood, and like a Furnace mouth  Cast forth redounding smoak and ruddy flame.  Before thir eyes in sudden view appear                              890  The secrets of the hoarie deep, a dark  Illimitable Ocean without bound,  Without dimension, where length, breadth, and highth,  And time and place are lost; where eldest Night  And Chaos, Ancestors of Nature, hold  Eternal Anarchie, amidst the noise  Of endless warrs and by confusion stand.  For hot, cold, moist, and dry, four Champions fierce  Strive here for Maistrie, and to Battel bring  Thir embryon Atoms; they around the flag                            900  Of each his faction, in thir several Clanns,  Light-arm'd or heavy, sharp, smooth, swift or slow,  Swarm populous, unnumber'd as the Sands  Of Barca or Cyrene's torrid soil,  Levied to side with warring Winds, and poise  Thir lighter wings. To whom these most adhere,  Hee rules a moment; Chaos Umpire sits,  And by decision more imbroiles the fray  By which he Reigns: next him high Arbiter  Chance governs all. Into this wilde Abyss,                          910  The Womb of nature and perhaps her Grave,  Of neither Sea, nor Shore, nor Air, nor Fire,  But all these in thir pregnant causes mixt  Confus'dly, and which thus must ever fight,  Unless th' Almighty Maker them ordain  His dark materials to create more Worlds,  Into this wilde Abyss the warie fiend  Stood on the brink of Hell and look'd a while,  Pondering his Voyage; for no narrow frith  He had to cross. Nor was his eare less peal'd                       920  With noises loud and ruinous (to compare  Great things with small) then when Bellona storms,  With all her battering Engines bent to rase  Som Capital City, or less then if this frame  Of Heav'n were falling, and these Elements  In mutinie had from her Axle torn  The stedfast Earth. At last his Sail-broad Vannes  He spreads for flight, and in the surging smoak  Uplifted spurns the ground, thence many a League  As in a cloudy Chair ascending rides                                930  Audacious, but that seat soon failing, meets  A vast vacuitie: all unawares  Fluttring his pennons vain plumb down he drops  Ten thousand fadom deep, and to this hour  Down had been falling, had not by ill chance  The strong rebuff of som tumultuous cloud  Instinct with Fire and Nitre hurried him  As many miles aloft: that furie stay'd,  Quencht in a Boggie Syrtis, neither Sea,  Nor good dry Land: nigh founderd on he fares,                       940  Treading the crude consistence, half on foot,  Half flying; behoves him now both Oare and Saile.  As when a Gryfon through the Wilderness  With winged course ore Hill or moarie Dale,  Pursues the Arimaspian, who by stelth  Had from his wakeful custody purloind  The guarded Gold: So eagerly the fiend  Ore bog or steep, through strait, rough, dense, or rare,  With head, hands, wings, or feet pursues his way,
119s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

And swims or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flyes:                  950  At length a universal hubbub wilde  Of stunning sounds and voices all confus'd  Born through the hollow dark assaults his eare  With loudest vehemence: thither he plyes,  Undaunted to meet there what ever power  Or Spirit of the nethermost Abyss  Might in that noise reside, of whom to ask  Which way the neerest coast of darkness lyes  Bordering on light; when strait behold the Throne  Of Chaos, and his dark Pavilion spread                              960  Wide on the wasteful Deep; with him Enthron'd  Sat Sable-vested Night, eldest of things,  The consort of his Reign; and by them stood  Orcus and Ades, and the dreaded name  Of Demogorgon; Rumor next and Chance,  And Tumult and Confusion all imbroild,  And Discord with a thousand various mouths.  T' whom Satan turning boldly, thus. Ye Powers  And Spirits of this nethermost Abyss,  Chaos and Ancient Night, I come no Spie,                            970  With purpose to explore or to disturb  The secrets of your Realm, but by constraint  Wandring this darksome desart, as my way  Lies through your spacious Empire up to light,  Alone, and without guide, half lost, I seek  What readiest path leads where your gloomie bounds  Confine with Heav'n; or if som other place  From your Dominion won, th' Ethereal King  Possesses lately, thither to arrive  I travel this profound, direct my course;                           980  Directed, no mean recompence it brings  To your behoof, if I that Region lost,  All usurpation thence expell'd, reduce  To her original darkness and your sway  (Which is my present journey) and once more  Erect the Standerd there of Ancient Night;  Yours be th' advantage all, mine the revenge.  Thus Satan; and him thus the Anarch old  With faultring speech and visage incompos'd  Answer'd. I know thee, stranger, who thou art,                      990  That mighty leading Angel, who of late  Made head against Heav'ns King, though overthrown.  I saw and heard, for such a numerous host  Fled not in silence through the frighted deep  With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout,  Confusion worse confounded; and Heav'n Gates  Pourd out by millions her victorious Bands  Pursuing. I upon my Frontieres here  Keep residence; if all I can will serve,  That little which is left so to defend                             1000  Encroacht on still through our intestine broiles  Weakning the Scepter of old Night: first Hell  Your dungeon stretching far and wide beneath;  Now lately Heaven and Earth, another World  Hung ore my Realm, link'd in a golden Chain  To that side Heav'n from whence your Legions fell:  If that way be your walk, you have not farr;  So much the neerer danger; goe and speed;  Havock and spoil and ruin are my gain.  He ceas'd; and Satan staid not to reply,                           1010  But glad that now his Sea should find a shore,  With fresh alacritie and force renew'd  Springs upward like a Pyramid of fire  Into the wilde expanse, and through the shock  Of fighting Elements, on all sides round  Environ'd wins his way; harder beset  And more endanger'd, then when Argo pass'd  Through Bosporus betwixt the justling Rocks:  Or when Ulysses on the Larbord shunnd  Charybdis, and by th' other whirlpool steard.                      1020  So he with difficulty and labour hard  Mov'd on, with difficulty and labour hee;  But hee once past, soon after when man fell,  Strange alteration! Sin and Death amain  Following his track, such was the will of Heav'n,  Pav'd after him a broad and beat'n way  Over the dark Abyss, whose boiling Gulf  Tamely endur'd a Bridge of wondrous length  From Hell continu'd reaching th' utmost Orbe  Of this frail World; by which the Spirits perverse                 1030  With easie intercourse pass to and fro  To tempt or punish mortals, except whom  God and good Angels guard by special grace.  But now at last the sacred influence  Of light appears, and from the walls of Heav'n  Shoots farr into the bosom of dim Night  A glimmering dawn; here Nature first begins  Her fardest verge, and Chaos to retire  As from her outmost works a brok'n foe  With tumult less and with less hostile din,                        1040  That Satan with less toil, and now with ease  Wafts on the calmer wave by dubious light  And like a weather-beaten Vessel holds  Gladly the Port, though Shrouds and Tackle torn;  Or in the emptier waste, resembling Air,  Weighs his spread wings, at leasure to behold  Farr off th' Empyreal Heav'n, extended wide  In circuit, undetermind square or round,  With Opal Towrs and Battlements adorn'd  Of living Saphire, once his native Seat;                           1050  And fast by hanging in a golden Chain  This pendant world, in bigness as a Starr  Of smallest Magnitude close by the Moon.  Thither full fraught with mischievous revenge,  Accurst, and in a cursed hour he hies.  Notes:  282 where] were 1674.  402 breath] misprint for breathe.  483 thir] her 1674.  527 his] this 1674.  542 Oealia] Oechalia 1674.  631 toward] towards 1674.  The End Of The Second Book.





BOOK III.

THE ARGUMENT.

God sitting on his Throne sees Satan flying towards thisworld, then newly created; shews him to the Son who sat at hisright hand; foretells the success of Satan in perverting mankind;clears his own Justice and Wisdom from all imputation, havingcreated Man free and able enough to have withstood his Tempter;yet declares his purpose of grace towards him, in regard he fellnot of his own malice, as did Satan, but by him seduc't. The Sonof God renders praises to his father for the manifestation of hisgracious purpose towards Man; God again declares, that Gracecannot be extended towards Man without the satisfaction of divineJustice; Man hath offended the majesty of God by aspiring toGodhead, and therefore with all his progeny devoted to death mustdye, unless some one can be found sufficient to answer for hisoffence, and undergoe his Punishment. The Son of God freelyoffers himself a Ransome for Man: the Father accepts him, ordainshis incarnation, pronounces his exaltation above all in Heavenand Earth, commands all the Angels to adore him; they obey, amidhymning to their Harps in full Quire, celebrate the Father andthe Son.. Mean while Satan alights upon the bare convex of thisWorlds outermost Orb; where wandring he first finds a place sincecall'd The Lymbo of Vanity, what persons and things fly upthither; thence comes to the Gate of Heaven, describ'd ascendingby stairs and the waters above the Firmament that flow about it:His passage thence to the Orb of the Sun; he finds there Urielthe Regent of that Orb, but first changes himself into the shapeof a meaner Angel; and pretending a zealous desire to behold thenew Creation and Man whom God had plac't here, inquires of himthe place of his habitation, and is directed; alights first onMount Niphates.

Hail holy light, ofspring 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 Eternitie, 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                                10  The rising world of waters dark and deep,  Won from the void and formless infinite.  Thee I re-visit now with bolder wing,  Escap't 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 then 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,                                20  Though hard and rare: thee I revisit safe,  And feel thy sovran vital Lamp; but thou  Revisit'st not these eyes, that rowle in vain  To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn;  So thick a drop serene hath quencht thir Orbs,  Or dim suffusion veild. Yet not the more  Cease I to wander where the Muses haunt  Cleer Spring, or shadie Grove, or Sunnie Hill,  Smit with the love of sacred song; but chief  Thee Sion and the flowrie Brooks beneath                             30  That wash thy hallowd feet, and warbling flow,  Nightly I visit: nor somtimes 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 voluntarie move  Harmonious numbers; as the wakeful Bird  Sings darkling, and in shadiest Covert hid  Tunes her nocturnal Note. Thus with the Year                         40  Seasons return, but not to me returns  Day, or the sweet approach of Ev'n or Morn,  Or sight of vernal bloom, or Summers Rose,  Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine;  But cloud in stead, and ever-during dark  Surrounds me, from the chearful waies of men  Cut off, and for the book of knowledg fair  Presented with a Universal blanc  Of Natures works to mee expung'd and ras'd,  And wisdome at one entrance quite shut out.                          50  So much the rather thou Celestial light  Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers  Irradiate, there plant eyes, all mist from thence  Purge and disperse, that I may see and tell  Of things invisible to mortal sight.  Now had the Almighty Father from above,  From the pure Empyrean where he sits  High Thron'd above all highth, bent down his eye,  His own works and their works at once to view:  About him all the Sanctities of Heaven                               60  Stood thick as Starrs, and from his sight receiv'd  Beatitude past utterance; on his right  The radiant image of his Glory sat,  His onely Son; On Earth he first beheld  Our two first Parents, yet the onely two  Of mankind, in the happie Garden plac't,  Reaping immortal fruits of joy and love,  Uninterrupted joy, unrivald love  In blissful solitude; he then survey'd  Hell and the Gulf between, and Satan there                           70  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 imbosom'd without Firmament,  Uncertain which, in Ocean or in Air.  Him God beholding from his prospect high,  Wherein past, present, future he beholds,  Thus to his onely Son foreseeing spake.  Onely begotten Son, seest thou what rage                             80  Transports our adversarie, whom no bounds  Prescrib'd, no barrs of Hell, nor all the chains  Heapt on him there, nor yet the main Abyss  Wide interrupt can hold; so bent he seems  On desperat revenge, that shall redound  Upon his own rebellious head. And now  Through all restraint broke loose he wings his way  Not farr off Heav'n, in the Precincts of light,  Directly towards the new created World,  And Man there plac't, with purpose to assay                          90  If him by force he can destroy, or worse,  By som false guile pervert; and shall pervert;  For man will heark'n to his glozing lyes,  And easily transgress the sole Command,  Sole pledge of his obedience: So will fall  Hee and his faithless Progenie: whose fault?  Whose but his own? ingrate, he had of mee  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                              100  And Spirits, both them who stood & them who faild;  Freely they stood who stood, and fell who fell.  Not free, what proof could they have givn sincere  Of true allegiance, constant Faith or Love,  Where onely what they needs must do, appeard,  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 despoild,  Made passive both, had servd necessitie,                            110  Not mee. They therefore as to right belongd,  So were created, nor can justly accuse  Thir maker, or thir making, or thir Fate;  As if Predestination over-rul'd  Thir will, dispos'd by absolute Decree  Or high foreknowledge; they themselves decreed  Thir 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,                         120  Or aught by me immutablie foreseen,  They trespass, Authors to themselves in all  Both what they judge and what they choose; for so  I formd them free, and free they must remain,  Till they enthrall themselves: I else must change  Thir nature, and revoke the high Decree  Unchangeable, Eternal, which ordain'd  Thir freedom, they themselves ordain'd thir fall.  The first sort by thir own suggestion fell,  Self-tempted, self-deprav'd: Man falls deceiv'd                     130  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 glorie 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 shon  Substantially express'd, and in his face                            140  Divine compassion visibly appeerd,  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 sovran sentence, that Man should find grace;  For which both Heav'n and Earth shall high extoll  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                          150  Thy creature late so lov'd, thy youngest Son  Fall circumvented thus by fraud, though joynd  With his own folly? that be from thee farr,  That farr be from thee, Father, who art Judge  Of all things made, and judgest onely right.  Or shall the Adversarie thus obtain  His end, and frustrate thine, shall he fulfill  His malice, and thy goodness bring to naught,  Or proud return though to his heavier doom,  Yet with revenge accomplish't and to Hell                           160  Draw after him the whole Race of mankind,  By him corrupted? or wilt thou thy self  Abolish thy Creation, and unmake,  For him, what for thy glorie thou hast made?  So should thy goodness and thy greatness both  Be questiond and blaspheam'd without defence.  To whom the great Creatour 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,                            170  All hast thou spok'n 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 voutsaft; 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                            180  His fall'n condition is, and to me ow  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 warnd  Thir sinful state, and to appease betimes  Th' incensed Deitie, while offerd grace  Invites; for I will cleer thir senses dark,  What may suffice, and soft'n stonie hearts  To pray, repent, and bring obedience due.                           190  To prayer, repentance, and obedience due,  Though but endevord with sincere intent,  Mine eare 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 hard'nd, blind be blinded more,                         200  That they may stumble on, and deeper fall;  And none but such from mercy I exclude.  But yet all is not don; Man disobeying,  Disloyal breaks his fealtie, and sinns  Against the high Supremacie of Heav'n,  Affecting God-head, and so loosing all,  To expiate his Treason hath naught left,  But to destruction sacred and devote,  He with his whole posteritie must die,  Die hee or Justice must; unless for him                             210  Som 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  Mans mortal crime, and just th' unjust to save,  Dwels in all Heaven charitie so deare?  He ask'd, but all the Heav'nly Quire stood mute,  And silence was in Heav'n: on mans behalf  Patron or Intercessor none appeerd,  Much less that durst upon his own head draw                         220  The deadly forfeiture, and ransom set.  And now without redemption all mankind  Must have bin lost, adjudg'd to Death and Hell  By doom severe, had not the Son of God,  In whom the fulness dwels of love divine,  His dearest mediation thus renewd.  Father, thy word is past, man shall find grace;  And shall grace not find means, that finds her way,  The speediest of thy winged messengers,  To visit all thy creatures, and to all                              230  Comes unprevented, unimplor'd, unsought,  Happie for man, so coming; be her aide  Can never seek, once dead in sins and lost;  Attonement for himself or offering meet,  Indebted and undon, hath none to bring:  Behold mee then, mee for him, life for life  I offer, on mee let thine anger fall;  Account mee man; I for his sake will leave  Thy bosom, and this glorie next to thee  Freely put off, and for him lastly die                              240  Well pleas'd, on me let Death wreck all his rage;  Under his gloomie power I shall not long  Lie vanquisht; thou hast givn me to possess  Life in my self for ever, by thee I live,  Though now to Death I yeild, and am his due  All that of me can die, yet that debt paid,  Thou wilt not leave me in the loathsom grave  His prey, nor suffer my unspotted Soule  For ever with corruption there to dwell;  But I shall rise Victorious, and subdue                             250  My Vanquisher, spoild of his vanted spoile;  Death his deaths wound shall then receive, & stoop  Inglorious, of his mortall 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 redeemd                               260  Shall enter Heaven long absent, and returne,  Father, to see thy face, wherein no cloud  Of anger shall remain, but peace assur'd,  And reconcilement; wrauth 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 shon  Filial obedience: as a sacrifice  Glad to be offer'd, he attends the will                             270  Of his great Father. Admiration seis'd  All Heav'n, what this might mean, & whither tend  Wondring; but soon th' Almighty thus reply'd:  O thou in Heav'n and Earth the only peace  Found out for mankind under wrauth, 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 loosing thee a while, the whole Race lost.                       280  Thou therefore whom thou only canst redeeme,  Thir Nature also to thy Nature joyne;  And be thy self Man among men on Earth,  Made flesh, when time shall be, of Virgin seed,  By wondrous birth: Be thou in Adams room  The Head of all mankind, though Adams 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 guiltie all his Sons, thy merit                     290  Imputed shall absolve them who renounce  Thir own both righteous and unrighteous deeds,  And live in thee transplanted, and from thee  Receive new life. So Man, as is most just,  Shall satisfie for Man, be judg'd and die,  And dying rise, and rising with him raise  His Brethren, ransomd with his own dear life.  So Heav'nly love shal outdoo Hellish hate,  Giving to death, and dying to redeeme,  So dearly to redeem what Hellish hate                               300  So easily destroy'd, and still destroyes  In those who, when they may, accept not grace.  Nor shalt thou by descending to assume  Mans Nature, less'n or degrade thine owne.  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 then Birthright Son of God,  Found worthiest to be so by being Good,                             310  Farr more then Great or High; because in thee  Love hath abounded more then Glory abounds,  Therefore thy Humiliation shall exalt  With thee thy Manhood also to this Throne;  Here shalt thou sit incarnate, here shalt Reigne  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 Supream  Thrones, Princedoms, Powers, Dominions I reduce:                    320  All knees to thee shall bow, of them that bide  In Heaven, or Earth, or under Earth in Hell;  When thou attended gloriously from Heav'n  Shalt in the Skie appeer, and from thee send  The summoning Arch-Angels to proclaime  Thy dread Tribunal: forthwith from all Windes  The living, and forthwith the cited dead  Of all past Ages to the general Doom  Shall hast'n, such a peal shall rouse thir sleep.  Then all thy Saints assembl'd, thou shalt judge                     330  Bad men and Angels, they arraignd 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 thir tribulations long  See golden days, fruitful of golden deeds,  With Joy and Love triumphing, and fair Truth.  Then thou thy regal Scepter shalt lay by,  For regal Scepter then no more shall need,                          340  God shall be All in All. But all ye Gods,  Adore him, who to compass all this dies,  Adore the Son, and honour him as mee.  No sooner had th' Almighty ceas't, 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
136s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

With Jubilee, and loud Hosanna's fill'd  Th' eternal Regions: lowly reverent  Towards either Throne they bow, & to the ground                     350  With solemn adoration down they cast  Thir Crowns inwove with Amarant and Gold,  Immortal Amarant, a Flour which once  In Paradise, fast by the Tree of Life  Began to bloom, but soon for mans offence  To Heav'n remov'd where first it grew, there grows,  And flours aloft shading the Fount of Life,  And where the river of Bliss through midst of Heavn  Rowls o're Elisian Flours her Amber stream;  With these that never fade the Spirits Elect                        360  Bind thir resplendent locks inwreath'd with beams,  Now in loose Garlands thick thrown off, the bright  Pavement that like a Sea of Jasper shon  Impurpl'd with Celestial Roses smil'd.  Then Crown'd again thir gold'n Harps they took,  Harps ever tun'd, that glittering by their side  Like Quivers hung, and with Praeamble sweet  Of charming symphonie they introduce  Thir sacred Song, and waken raptures high;  No voice exempt, no voice but well could joine                      370  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, thy self 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 appeer,                       380  Yet dazle Heav'n, that brightest Seraphim  Approach not, but with both wings veil thir 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  Impresst the effulgence of his Glorie abides,  Transfus'd on thee his ample Spirit rests.  Hee Heav'n of Heavens and all the Powers therein                    390  By thee created, and by thee threw down  Th' aspiring Dominations: thou that day  Thy Fathers dreadful Thunder didst not spare,  Nor stop thy flaming Chariot wheels, that shook  Heav'ns everlasting Frame, while o're the necks  Thou drov'st of warring Angels disarraid.  Back from pursuit thy Powers with loud acclaime  Thee only extold, Son of thy Fathers might,  To execute fierce vengeance on his foes,  Not so on Man; him through their malice fall'n,                     400  Father of Mercie and Grace, thou didst not doome  So strictly, but much more to pitie encline:  No sooner did thy dear and onely Son  Perceive thee purpos'd not to doom frail Man  So strictly, but much more to pitie enclin'd,  He to appease thy wrauth, and end the strife  Of Mercy and Justice in thy face discern'd,  Regardless of the Bliss wherein hee sat  Second to thee, offerd himself to die  For mans offence. O unexampl'd love,                                410  Love no where to be found less then 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 Fathers praise disjoine.  Thus they in Heav'n, above the starry Sphear,  Thir happie 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                                420  From Chaos and th' inroad of Darkness old,  Satan alighted walks: a Globe farr off  It seem'd, now seems a boundless Continent  Dark, waste, and wild, under the frown of Night  Starless expos'd, and ever-threatning storms  Of Chaos blustring round, inclement skie;  Save on that side which from the wall of Heav'n  Though distant farr som small reflection gaines  Of glimmering air less vext with tempest loud:  Here walk'd the Fiend at large in spacious field.                   430  As when a Vultur on Imaus bred,  Whose snowie 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 plaines  Of Sericana, where Chineses drive  With Sails and Wind thir canie Waggons light:  So on this windie Sea of Land, the Fiend                            440  Walk'd up and down alone bent on his prey,  Alone, for other Creature in this place  Living or liveless to be found was none,  None yet, but store hereafter from the earth  Up hither like Aereal vapours flew  Of all things transitorie and vain, when Sin  With vanity had filld the works of men:  Both all things vain, and all who in vain things  Built thir fond hopes of Glorie or lasting fame,  Or happiness in this or th' other life;                             450  All who have thir reward on Earth, the fruits  Of painful Superstition and blind Zeal,  Naught seeking but the praise of men, here find  Fit retribution, emptie as thir deeds;  All th' unaccomplisht works of Natures hand,  Abortive, monstrous, or unkindly mixt,  Dissolvd on earth, fleet hither, and in vain,  Till final dissolution, wander here,  Not in the neighbouring Moon, as some have dreamd;  Those argent Fields more likely habitants,                          460  Translated Saints, or middle Spirits hold  Betwixt th' Angelical and Human kinde:  Hither of ill-joynd Sons and Daughters born  First from the ancient World those Giants came  With many a vain exploit, though then renownd:  The builders next of Babel on the Plain  Of Sennaar, and still with vain designe  New Babels, had they wherewithall, would build:  Others came single; hee who to be deemd  A God, leap'd fondly into Aetna flames,                             470  Empedocles, and hee who to enjoy  Plato's Elysium, leap'd into the Sea,  Cleombrotus, and many more too long,  Embryo's and Idiots, Eremits and Friers
147s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

White, Black and Grey, with all thir trumperie.  Here Pilgrims roam, that stray'd so farr 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;                           480  They pass the Planets seven, and pass the fixt,  And that Crystalline Sphear whose ballance weighs  The Trepidation talkt, and that first mov'd;  And now Saint Peter at Heav'ns Wicket seems  To wait them with his Keys, and now at foot  Of Heav'ns ascent they lift thir Feet, when loe  A violent cross wind from either Coast  Blows them transverse ten thousand Leagues awry  Into the devious Air; then might ye see  Cowles, Hoods and Habits with thir wearers tost                     490  And flutterd into Raggs, then Reliques, Beads,  Indulgences, Dispenses, Pardons, Bulls,  The sport of Winds: all these upwhirld aloft  Fly o're the backside of the World farr off  Into a Limbo large and broad, since calld  The Paradise of Fools, to few unknown  Long after, now unpeopl'd, and untrod;  All this dark Globe the Fiend found as he pass'd,  And long he wanderd, till at last a gleame  Of dawning light turnd thither-ward in haste                        500  His travell'd steps; farr distant hee descries  Ascending by degrees magnificent  Up to the wall of Heaven a Structure high,  At top whereof, but farr more rich appeerd  The work as of a Kingly Palace Gate  With Frontispice of Diamond and Gold  Imbellisht, thick with sparkling orient Gemmes  The Portal shon, inimitable on Earth  By Model, or by shading Pencil drawn.  The Stairs were such as whereon Jacob saw                           510  Angels ascending and descending, bands  Of Guardians bright, when he from Esau fled  To Padan-aram in the field of Luz,  Dreaming by night under the open Skie,  And waking cri'd, This is the Gate of Heav'n.  Each Stair mysteriously was meant, nor stood  There alwaies, but drawn up to Heav'n somtimes  Viewless, and underneath a bright Sea flow'd  Of Jasper, or of liquid Pearle, whereon  Who after came from Earth, sayling arriv'd,                         520  Wafted by Angels, or flew o're the Lake  Rapt in a Chariot drawn by fiery Steeds.  The Stairs were then let down, whether to dare  The Fiend by easie ascent, or aggravate  His sad exclusion from the dores of Bliss.  Direct against which op'nd from beneath,  Just o're the blissful seat of Paradise,  A passage down to th' Earth, a passage wide,  Wider by farr then that of after-times  Over Mount Sion, and, though that were large,                       530  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 Jordans flood  To Beersaba, where the Holy Land  Borders on Aegypt and the Arabian shoare;  So wide the op'ning seemd, where bounds were set  To darkness, such as bound the Ocean wave.  Satan from hence now on the lower stair                             540  That scal'd by steps of Gold to Heav'n Gate  Looks down with wonder at the sudden view  Of all this World at once. As when a Scout  Through dark and desart wayes with peril gone  All night; at last by break of chearful dawne  Obtains the brow of some high-climbing Hill,  Which to his eye discovers unaware  The goodly prospect of some forein land  First-seen, or some renownd Metropolis  With glistering Spires and Pinnacles adornd,                        550  Which now the Rising Sun guilds with his beams.  Such wonder seis'd, though after Heaven seen,  The Spirit maligne, but much more envy seis'd  At sight of all this World beheld so faire.  Round he surveys, and well might, where he stood  So high above the circling Canopie  Of Nights extended shade; from Eastern Point  Of Libra to the fleecie Starr that bears  Andromeda farr off Atlantick Seas  Beyond th' Horizon; then from Pole to Pole                          560  He views in bredth, and without longer pause  Down right into the Worlds first Region throws  His flight precipitant, and windes with ease  Through the pure marble Air his oblique way  Amongst innumerable Starrs, that shon  Stars distant, but nigh hand seemd other Worlds,  Or other Worlds they seemd, or happy Iles,  Like those Hesperian Gardens fam'd of old,  Fortunate Fields, and Groves and flourie Vales,  Thrice happy Iles, but who dwelt happy there                        570  He stayd not to enquire: above them all  The golden Sun in splendor likest Heaven  Allur'd his eye: Thither his course he bends  Through the calm Firmament; but up or downe  By center, or eccentric, hard to tell,  Or Longitude, where the great Luminarie  Alooff the vulgar Constellations thick,  That from his Lordly eye keep distance due,  Dispenses Light from farr; they as they move  Thir Starry dance in numbers that compute                           580  Days, months, and years, towards his all-chearing Lamp  Turn swift their various motions, or are turnd  By his Magnetic beam, that gently warms  The Univers, and to each inward part  With gentle penetration, though unseen,  Shoots invisible vertue 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 Orbe  Through his glaz'd Optic Tube yet never saw.                        590  The place he found beyond expression bright,  Compar'd with aught on Earth, Medal or Stone;  Not all parts like, but all alike informd  With radiant light, as glowing Iron with fire;  If mettal, part seemd Gold, part Silver cleer;  If stone, Carbuncle most or Chrysolite,  Rubie or Topaz, to the Twelve that shon  In Aarons Brest-plate, and a stone besides  Imagind rather oft then elsewhere seen,  That stone, or like to that which here below                        600  Philosophers in vain so long have sought,  In vain, though by thir powerful Art they binde  Volatil Hermes, and call up unbound  In various shapes old Proteus from the Sea,  Draind through a Limbec to his Native forme.  What wonder then if fields and regions here  Breathe forth Elixir pure, and Rivers run  Potable Gold, when with one vertuous touch  Th' Arch-chimic Sun so farr from us remote  Produces with Terrestrial Humor mixt                                610  Here in the dark so many precious things  Of colour glorious and effect so rare?  Here matter new to gaze the Devil met  Undazl'd, farr and wide his eye commands,  For sight no obstacle found here, nor shade,  But all Sun-shine, as when his Beams at Noon  Culminate from th' Aequator, as they now  Shot upward still direct, whence no way round  Shadow from body opaque can fall, and the Aire,  No where so cleer, sharp'nd his visual ray                          620  To objects distant farr, whereby he soon  Saw within kenn a glorious Angel stand,  The same whom John saw also in the Sun:  His back was turnd, but not his brightness hid;  Of beaming sunnie Raies, a golden tiar  Circl'd his Head, nor less his Locks behind  Illustrious on his Shoulders fledge with wings  Lay waving round; on som great charge imploy'd  Hee seemd, or fixt in cogitation deep.  Glad was the Spirit impure as now in hope                           630  To find who might direct his wandring flight  To Paradise the happie seat of Man,  His journies 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 Cherube he appeers,  Not of the prime, yet such as in his face  Youth smil'd Celestial, and to every Limb  Sutable grace diffus'd, so well he feignd;  Under a Coronet his flowing haire                                   640  In curles on either cheek plaid, wings he wore  Of many a colourd plume sprinkl'd 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 turnd,  Admonisht by his eare, and strait was known  Th' Arch-Angel Uriel, one of the seav'n  Who in Gods presence, neerest to his Throne  Stand ready at command, and are his Eyes                            650  That run through all the Heav'ns, or down to th' Earth  Bear his swift errands over moist and dry,  O're Sea and Land: him Satan thus accostes;  Uriel, for thou of those seav'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 Embassie attend;  And here art likeliest by supream decree  Like honour to obtain, and as his Eye                               660  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 ordaind,  Hath brought me from the Quires of Cherubim  Alone thus wandring. Brightest Seraph tell  In which of all these shining Orbes hath Man  His fixed seat, or fixed seat hath none,  But all these shining Orbes his choice to dwell;                    670  That I may find him, and with secret gaze,  Or open admiration him behold  On whom the great Creator hath bestowd  Worlds, and on whom hath all these graces powrd;  That both in him and all things, as is meet,  The Universal Maker we may praise;  Who justly hath drivn out his Rebell Foes  To deepest Hell, and to repair that loss  Created this new happie Race of Men  To serve him better: wise are all his wayes.                        680  So spake the false dissembler unperceivd;  For neither Man nor Angel can discern  Hypocrisie, 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 wisdoms Gate, and to simplicitie  Resigns her charge, while goodness thinks no ill  Where no ill seems: Which now for once beguil'd  Uriel, though Regent of the Sun, and held                           690  The sharpest sighted Spirit of all in Heav'n;  Who to the fraudulent Impostor foule  In his uprightness answer thus returnd.  Faire Angel, thy desire which tends to know  The works of God, thereby to glorifie  The great Work-Maister, leads to no excess  That reaches blame, but rather merits praise  The more it seems excess, that led thee hither  From thy Empyreal Mansion thus alone,  To witness with thine eyes what some perhaps                        700  Contented with report heare onely in heav'n:  For wonderful indeed are all his works,  Pleasant to know, and worthiest to be all  Had in remembrance alwayes with delight;  But what created mind can comprehend  Thir number, or the wisdom infinite  That brought them forth, but hid thir causes deep.  I saw when at his Word the formless Mass,  This worlds material mould, came to a heap:  Confusion heard his voice, and wilde uproar                         710  Stood rul'd, stood vast infinitude confin'd;  Till at his second bidding darkness fled,  Light shon, and order from disorder sprung:  Swift to thir several Quarters hasted then  The cumbrous Elements, Earth, Flood, Aire, Fire,  And this Ethereal quintessence of Heav'n  Flew upward, spirited with various forms,  That rowld orbicular, and turnd to Starrs  Numberless, as thou seest, and how they move;  Each had his place appointed, each his course,                      720  The rest in circuit walles 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 Starr) her aide  Timely interposes, and her monthly round  Still ending, still renewing, through mid Heav'n;  With borrowd light her countenance triform                          730  Hence fills and empties to enlighten th' Earth,  And in her pale dominion checks the night.  That spot to which I point is Paradise,  Adams abode, those loftie shades his Bowre.  Thy way thou canst not miss, me mine requires.  Thus said, he turnd, 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,                    740  Throws his steep flight with many an Aerie wheele,  Nor staid, till on Niphates top he lights.
148s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

The End Of The Third Book.





BOOK IV.

THE ARGUMENT.

Satan now in prospect of Eden, and nigh the place where hemust now attempt the bold enterprize which he undertook aloneagainst God and Man, falls into many doubts with himself, andmany passions, fear, envy, and despare; but at length confirmshimself in evil, journeys on to Paradise, whose outward prospectand scituation is described, overleaps the bounds, sits in theshape of a Cormorant on the tree of life, as highest in theGarden to look about him. The Garden describ'd; Satans firstsight of Adam and Eve; his wonder at thir excellent form andhappy state but with resolution to work thir fall; overhears thirdiscourse, thence gathers that the Tree of knowledge wasforbidden them to eat of, under penalty of death; and thereonintends to found his temptation, by seducing them to transgress:then leaves them a while to know further of thir state by someother means. Mean while Uriel descending on a Sunbeam warnsGabriel, who had in charge the Gate of Paradise, that some evilspirit had escap'd the Deep, and past at Noon by his Sphere inthe shape of a good Angel down to Paradise, discovered after byhis furious gestures in the Mount. Gabriel promises to find himout ere morning. Night coming on, Adam and Eve discourse of goingto thir rest: thir Bower describ'd; thir Evening worship. Gabrieldrawing forth his Bands of Night-watch to walk the round ofParadise, appoints two strong Angels to Adams Bower, least theevill spirit should be there doing some harm to Adam or Evesleeping; there they find him at the ear of Eve, tempting her ina dream, and bring him, though unwilling, to Gabriel; by whomquestion'd he scornfully answers, prepares resistance, buthinder'd by a Sign from Heaven, flies out of Paradise.

O For that warning voice, which he who saw  Th' Apocalyps, heard cry in Heaven aloud,  Then when the Dragon, put to second rout,  Came furious down to be reveng'd on men,  Wo To The Inhabitants On Earth! that now,  While time was, our first Parents had bin warnd  The coming of thir 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 man-kind,                             10  To wreck on innocent frail man his loss  Of that first Battel, and his flight to Hell:  Yet not rejoycing in his speed, though bold,  Far off and fearless, nor with cause to boast,  Begins his dire attempt, which nigh the birth  Now rowling, boiles in his tumultuous brest,  And like a devillish Engine back recoiles  Upon himself; horror and doubt distract  His troubl'd thoughts, and from the bottom stirr  The Hell within him, for within him Hell                             20  He brings, and round about him, nor from Hell  One step no more then from himself can fly  By change of place: Now conscience wakes despair  That slumberd, wakes the bitter memorie  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 grievd look he fixes sad,  Sometimes towards Heav'n and the full-blazing Sun,  Which now sat high in his Meridian Towre:                            30  Then much revolving, thus in sighs began.  O thou that with surpassing Glory crownd,  Look'st from thy sole Dominion like the God  Of this new World; at whose sight all the Starrs  Hide thir diminisht 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 Spheare;  Till Pride and worse Ambition threw me down                          40  Warring in Heav'n against Heav'ns matchless King:  Ah wherefore! he deservd 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 then to afford him praise,  The easiest recompence, and pay him thanks,  How due! yet all his good prov'd ill in me,  And wrought but malice; lifted up so high  I sdeind subjection, and thought one step higher                     50  Would set me highest, and in a moment quit  The debt immense of endless gratitude,  So burthensome, still paying, still to ow;  Forgetful what from him I still receivd,  And understood not that a grateful mind  By owing owes not, but still pays, at once  Indebted and dischargd; what burden then?  O had his powerful Destiny ordaind  Me some inferiour Angel, I had stood  Then happie; no unbounded hope had rais'd                            60  Ambition. Yet why not? som 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'ns free Love dealt equally to all?  Be then his Love accurst, since love or hate,  To me alike, it deals eternal woe.                                   70  Nay curs'd be thou; since against his thy will  Chose freely what it now so justly rues.  Me miserable! which way shall I flie  Infinite wrauth, and infinite despaire?
163s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

Which way I flie is Hell; my self am Hell;  And in the lowest deep a lower deep  Still threatning 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?                           80  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  Then to submit, boasting I could subdue  Th' Omnipotent. Ay me, they little know  How dearly I abide that boast so vaine,  Under what torments inwardly I groane;  While they adore me on the Throne of Hell,  With Diadem and Scepter high advanc'd                                90  The lower still I fall, onely Supream  In miserie; such joy Ambition findes.  But say I could repent and could obtaine  By Act of Grace my former state; how soon  Would highth recal 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 peirc'd so deep:  Which would but lead me to a worse relapse                          100  And heavier fall: so should I purchase deare  Short intermission bought with double smart.  This knows my punisher; therefore as farr  From granting hee, as I from begging peace:  All hope excluded thus, behold in stead  Of us out-cast, exil'd, his new delight,  Mankind created, and for him this World.  So farwel Hope, and with Hope farwel Fear,  Farwel Remorse: all Good to me is lost;  Evil be thou my Good; by thee at least                              110  Divided Empire with Heav'ns King I hold  By thee, and more then half perhaps will reigne;  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, envie and despair,  Which marrd his borrow'd visage, and betraid  Him counterfet, if any eye beheld.  For heav'nly mindes from such distempers foule  Are ever cleer. Whereof hee soon aware,  Each perturbation smooth'd with outward calme,                      120  Artificer of fraud; and was the first  That practisd falshood under saintly shew,  Deep malice to conceale, couch't with revenge:  Yet not anough had practisd to deceive  Uriel once warnd; whose eye pursu'd him down  The way he went, and on th' Assyrian mount  Saw him disfigur'd, more then could befall  Spirit of happie sort: his gestures fierce  He markd and mad demeanour, then alone,  As he suppos'd, all unobserv'd, unseen.                             130  So on he fares, and to the border comes  Of Eden, where delicious Paradise,  Now nearer, Crowns with her enclosure green,  As with a rural mound the champain head  Of a steep wilderness, whose hairie sides  With thicket overgrown, grottesque and wilde,  Access deni'd; and over head up grew  Insuperable highth of loftiest shade,  Cedar, and Pine, and Firr, and branching Palm,  A Silvan Scene, and as the ranks ascend                             140  Shade above shade, a woodie Theatre  Of stateliest view. Yet higher then thir tops  The verdurous wall of Paradise up sprung:  Which to our general Sire gave prospect large  Into his neather Empire neighbouring round.  And higher then that Wall a circling row  Of goodliest Trees loaden with fairest Fruit,  Blossoms and Fruits at once of golden hue  Appeerd, with gay enameld colours mixt:  On which the Sun more glad impress'd his beams                      150  Then in fair Evening Cloud, or humid Bow,  When God hath showrd the earth; so lovely seemd  That Lantskip: And of pure now purer aire  Meets his approach, and to the heart inspires  Vernal delight and joy, able to drive  All sadness but despair: now gentle gales  Fanning thir odoriferous wings dispense  Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stole  Those balmie spoiles. As when to them who saile  Beyond the Cape Of Hope, and now are past                           160  Mozambic, off at Sea North-East windes blow  Sabean Odours from the spicie shoare  Of Arabie the blest, with such delay  Well pleas'd they slack thir course, and many a League  Cheard with the grateful smell old Ocean smiles.  So entertaind those odorous sweets the Fiend  Who came thir bane, though with them better pleas'd  Then Asmodeus with the fishie fume,  That drove him, though enamourd, from the Spouse  Of Tobits Son, and with a vengeance sent                            170  From Media post to Aegypt, there fast bound.  Now to th' ascent of that steep savage Hill  Satan had journied on, pensive and slow;
169s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

But further way found none, so thick entwin'd,  As one continu'd brake, the undergrowth  Of shrubs and tangling bushes had perplext  All path of Man or Beast that past that way:  One Gate there onely was, and that look'd East  On th' other side: which when th' arch-fellon saw  Due entrance he disdaind, and in contempt,                          180  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 Wolfe,  Whom hunger drives to seek new haunt for prey,  Watching where Shepherds pen thir Flocks at eeve  In hurdl'd Cotes amid the field secure,  Leaps o're the fence with ease into the Fould:  Or as a Thief bent to unhoord the cash  Of some rich Burgher, whose substantial dores,  Cross-barrd and bolted fast, fear no assault,                       190  In at the window climbes, or o're the tiles;  So clomb this first grand Thief into Gods Fould:  So since into his Church lewd Hirelings climbe.  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 regaind, but sat devising Death  To them who liv'd; nor on the vertue thought  Of that life-giving Plant, but only us'd  For prospect, what well us'd had bin the pledge                     200  Of immortalitie. So little knows  Any, but God alone, to value right  The good before him, but perverts best things  To worst abuse, or to thir meanest use.  Beneath him with new wonder now he views  To all delight of human sense expos'd  In narrow room Natures whole wealth, yea more,  A Heaven on Earth, for blissful Paradise  Of God the Garden was, by him in the East  Of Eden planted; Eden stretchd her Line                             210  From Auran Eastward to the Royal Towrs  Of great Seleucia, built by Grecian Kings,  Or where the Sons of Eden long before  Dwelt in Telassar: in this pleasant soile  His farr more pleasant Garden God ordaind;  Out of the fertil ground he caus'd to grow  All Trees of noblest kind for sight, smell, taste;  And all amid them stood the Tree of Life,  High eminent, blooming Ambrosial Fruit  Of vegetable Gold; and next to Life                                 220  Our Death the Tree of Knowledge grew fast by,  Knowledge of Good bought dear by knowing ill.  Southward through Eden went a River large,  Nor chang'd his course, but through the shaggie hill  Pass'd underneath ingulft, 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  Waterd the Garden; thence united fell                               230  Down the steep glade, and met the neather Flood,  Which from his darksom passage now appeers,  And now divided into four main Streams,  Runs divers, wandring many a famous Realme  And Country whereof here needs no account,  But rather to tell how, if Art could tell,  How from that Saphire Fount the crisped Brooks,  Rowling on Orient Pearl and sands of Gold,  With mazie error under pendant shades  Ran Nectar, visiting each plant, and fed                            240  Flours worthy of Paradise which not nice Art  In Beds and curious Knots, but Nature boon  Powrd forth profuse on Hill and Dale and Plaine,  Both where the morning Sun first warmly smote  The open field, and where the unpierc't shade  Imbround the noontide Bowrs: Thus was this place,  A happy rural seat of various view;
170s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

Groves whose rich Trees wept odorous Gumms and Balme,  Others whose fruit burnisht with Golden Rinde  Hung amiable, Hesperian Fables true,                                250  If true, here onely, and of delicious taste:  Betwixt them Lawns, or level Downs, and Flocks  Grasing the tender herb, were interpos'd,  Or palmie hilloc, or the flourie lap  Of som irriguous Valley spread her store,  Flours of all hue, and without Thorn the Rose:  Another side, umbrageous Grots and Caves  Of coole recess, o're which the mantling Vine  Layes forth her purple Grape, and gently creeps  Luxuriant; mean while murmuring waters fall                         260  Down the slope hills, disperst, or in a Lake,  That to the fringed Bank with Myrtle crownd,  Her chrystall mirror holds, unite thir streams.  The Birds thir quire apply; aires, vernal aires,  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 faire field  Of Enna, where Proserpin gathring flours  Her self a fairer Floure by gloomie Dis                             270  Was gatherd, 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 Ile  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 thir issue Guard,                           280  Mount Amara, though this by som suppos'd  True Paradise under the Ethiop Line  By Nilus head, enclos'd with shining Rock,  A whole dayes 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 Majestie seemd Lords of all,                               290  And worthie seemd, for in thir looks Divine  The image of thir glorious Maker shon,  Truth, Wisdome, Sanctitude severe and pure,  Severe, but in true filial freedom plac't;  Whence true autoritie in men; though both  Not equal, as thir sex not equal seemd;  For contemplation hee and valour formd,  For softness shee and sweet attractive Grace,  Hee for God only, shee for God in him:  His fair large Front and Eye sublime declar'd                       300  Absolute rule; and Hyacinthin Locks  Round from his parted forelock manly hung  Clustring, but not beneath his shoulders broad:  Shee as a vail down to the slender waste  Her unadorned golden tresses wore  Dissheveld, but in wanton ringlets wav'd  As the Vine curles her tendrils, which impli'd  Subjection, but requir'd with gentle sway,  And by her yeilded, by him best receivd,  Yeilded with coy submission, modest pride,                          310  And sweet reluctant amorous delay.  Nor those mysterious parts were then conceald,  Then was not guiltie shame, dishonest shame  Of natures works, honor dishonorable,  Sin-bred, how have ye troubl'd all mankind  With shews instead, meer shews of seeming pure,  And banisht from mans life his happiest life,  Simplicitie and spotless innocence.  So passd they naked on, nor shund the sight  Of God or Angel, for they thought no ill:                           320  So hand in hand they passd, the lovliest pair  That ever since in loves imbraces met,  Adam the goodliest man of men since borne  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 thir sweet Gardning labour then suffic'd  To recommend coole Zephyr, and made ease  More easie, wholsom thirst and appetite                             330  More grateful, to thir Supper Fruits they fell,  Nectarine Fruits which the compliant boughes  Yeilded them, side-long as they sat recline  On the soft downie Bank damaskt with flours:  The savourie pulp they chew, and in the rinde  Still as they thirsted scoop the brimming stream;
176s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

Nor gentle purpose, nor endearing smiles  Wanted, nor youthful dalliance as beseems  Fair couple, linkt in happie nuptial League,  Alone as they. About them frisking playd                            340  All Beasts of th' Earth, since wilde, and of all chase  In Wood or Wilderness, Forrest or Den;  Sporting the Lion rampd, and in his paw  Dandl'd the Kid; Bears, Tygers, Ounces, Pards  Gambold before them, th' unwieldy Elephant  To make them mirth us'd all his might, and wreathd  His Lithe Proboscis; close the Serpent sly  Insinuating, wove with Gordian twine  His breaded train, and of his fatal guile  Gave proof unheeded; others on the grass                            350  Coucht, and now fild with pasture gazing sat,  Or Bedward ruminating: for the Sun  Declin'd was hasting now with prone carreer  To th' Ocean Iles, and in th' ascending Scale  Of Heav'n the Starrs that usher Evening rose:  When Satan still in gaze, as first he stood,  Scarce thus at length faild speech recoverd sad.  O Hell! what doe mine eyes with grief behold,  Into our room of bliss thus high advanc't  Creatures of other mould, earth-born perhaps,                       360  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 formd them on thir shape hath pourd.  Ah gentle pair, yee 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;  Happie, but for so happie ill secur'd                               370  Long to continue, and this high seat your Heav'n  Ill fenc't for Heav'n to keep out such a foe  As now is enterd; yet no purpos'd foe  To you whom I could pittie thus forlorne  Though I unpittied: League with you I seek,  And mutual amitie so streight, 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 Makers work; he gave it me,                             380  Which I as freely give; Hell shall unfould,  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 ofspring; if no better place,  Thank him who puts me loath to this revenge  On you who wrong me not for him who wrongd.  And should I at your harmless innocence  Melt, as I doe, yet public reason just,  Honour and Empire with revenge enlarg'd,                            390  By conquering this new World, compels me now  To do what else though damnd I should abhorre.  So spake the Fiend, and with necessitie,  The Tyrants plea, excus'd his devilish deeds.  Then from his loftie stand on that high Tree  Down he alights among the sportful Herd  Of those fourfooted kindes, himself now one,  Now other, as thir shape servd best his end  Neerer to view his prey, and unespi'd  To mark what of thir state he more might learn                      400  By word or action markt: about them round  A Lion now he stalkes with fierie glare,  Then as a Tiger, who by chance hath spi'd  In some Purlieu two gentle Fawnes at play,  Strait couches close, then rising changes oft  His couchant watch, as one who chose his ground  Whence rushing he might surest seise them both  Grip't in each paw: when Adam first of men  To first of women Eve thus moving speech,  Turnd him all eare to heare new utterance flow.                     410  Sole partner and sole part of all these joyes,  Dearer thy self then all; needs must the Power  That made us, and for us this ample World  Be infinitly good, and of his good  As liberal and free as infinite,  That rais'd us from the dust and plac't us here  In all this happiness, who at his hand  Have nothing merited, nor can performe  Aught whereof hee hath need, hee who requires  From us no other service then to keep                               420  This one, this easie charge, of all the Trees  In Paradise that beare delicious fruit  So various, not to taste that onely Tree  Of knowledge, planted by the Tree of Life,  So neer grows Death to Life, what ere Death is,  Som dreadful thing no doubt; for well thou knowst  God hath pronounc't it death to taste that Tree,  The only sign of our obedience left  Among so many signes of power and rule  Conferrd upon us, and Dominion giv'n                                430  Over all other Creatures that possesse  Earth, Aire, and Sea. Then let us not think hard  One easie prohibition, who enjoy  Free leave so large to all things else, and choice  Unlimited of manifold delights:  But let us ever praise him, and extoll  His bountie, following our delightful task  To prune these growing Plants, & tend these Flours,  Which were it toilsom, yet with thee were sweet.  To whom thus Eve repli'd. O thou for whom                           440  And from whom I was formd flesh of thy flesh,  And without whom am to no end, my Guide  And Head, what thou hast said is just and right.  For wee to him indeed all praises owe,  And daily thanks, I chiefly who enjoy  So farr the happier Lot, enjoying thee  Preeminent by so much odds, while thou  Like consort to thy self canst no where find.  That day I oft remember, when from sleep  I first awak't, and found my self repos'd                           450  Under a shade on flours, much wondring 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't thought, and laid me downe  On the green bank, to look into the cleer  Smooth Lake, that to me seemd another Skie.  As I bent down to look, just opposite,                              460  A Shape within the watry gleam appeerd  Bending to look on me, I started back,  It started back, but pleasd I soon returnd,  Pleas'd it returnd as soon with answering looks  Of sympathie and love, there I had fixt  Mine eyes till now, and pin'd with vain desire,  Had not a voice thus warnd me, What thou seest,  What there thou seest fair Creature is thy self,  With thee it came and goes: but follow me,  And I will bring thee where no shadow staies                        470  Thy coming, and thy soft imbraces, hee  Whose image thou art, him thou shall enjoy  Inseparablie thine, to him shalt beare  Multitudes like thy self, and thence be call'd  Mother of human Race: what could I doe,  But follow strait, invisibly thus led?  Till I espi'd thee, fair indeed and tall,  Under a Platan, yet methought less faire,  Less winning soft, less amiablie milde,  Then that smooth watry image; back I turnd,                         480  Thou following cryd'st aloud, Return fair Eve,  Whom fli'st thou? whom thou fli'st, of him thou art,  His flesh, his bone; to give thee being I lent  Out of my side to thee, neerest 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  Seisd mine, I yeilded, and from that time see  How beauty is excelld by manly grace                                490  And wisdom, which alone is truly fair.  So spake our general Mother, and with eyes  Of conjugal attraction unreprov'd,  And meek surrender, half imbracing leand  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                         500  That shed May Flowers; and press'd her Matron lip  With kisses pure: aside the Devil turnd  For envie, yet with jealous leer maligne  Ey'd them askance, and to himself thus plaind.  Sight hateful, sight tormenting! thus these two  Imparadis't in one anothers arms  The happier Eden, shall enjoy thir 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,                             510  Still unfulfill'd with pain of longing pines;  Yet let me not forget what I have gain'd  From thir 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 thir Lord  Envie them that? can it be sin to know,  Can it be death? and do they onely stand  By Ignorance, is that thir happie state,  The proof of thir obedience and thir faith?                         520  O fair foundation laid whereon to build  Thir ruine! Hence I will excite thir minds  With more desire to know, and to reject  Envious commands, invented with designe  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                       530  Some wandring 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 happie 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're hil, o're dale his roam.  Mean while in utmost Longitude, where Heav'n  With Earth and Ocean meets, the setting Sun                         540  Slowly descended, and with right aspect  Against the eastern Gate of Paradise  Leveld his eevning Rayes: it was a Rock  Of Alablaster, pil'd up to the Clouds,  Conspicuous farr, winding with one ascent  Accessible from Earth, one entrance high;  The rest was craggie cliff, that overhung  Still as it rose, impossible to climbe.  Betwixt these rockie Pillars Gabriel sat  Chief of th' Angelic Guards, awaiting night;                        550  About him exercis'd Heroic Games  Th' unarmed Youth of Heav'n, but nigh at hand  Celestial Armourie, Shields, Helmes, and Speares  Hung high with Diamond flaming, and with Gold.  Thither came Uriel, gliding through the Eeven  On a Sun beam, swift as a shooting Starr  In Autumn thwarts the night, when vapors fir'd  Impress the Air, and shews the Mariner  From what point of his Compass to beware  Impetuous winds: he thus began in haste.                            560  Gabriel, to thee thy cours by Lot hath giv'n  Charge and strict watch that to this happie place  No evil thing approach or enter in;  This day at highth of Noon came to my Spheare  A Spirit, zealous, as he seem'd, to know  More of th' Almighties works, and chiefly Man  Gods latest Image: I describ'd his way  Bent all on speed, and markt his Aerie Gate;  But in the Mount that lies from Eden North,  Where he first lighted, soon discernd his looks                     570  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 banisht crew  I fear, hath ventur'd from the deep, to raise  New troubles; him thy care must be to find.  To whom the winged Warriour thus returnd:  Uriel, no wonder if thy perfet sight,  Amid the Suns bright circle where thou sitst,  See farr and wide: in at this Gate none pass  The vigilance here plac't, but such as come                         580  Well known from Heav'n; and since Meridian hour  No Creature thence: if Spirit of other sort,  So minded, have oreleapt these earthie bounds  On purpose, hard thou knowst it to exclude  Spiritual substance with corporeal barr.  But if within the circuit of these walks  In whatsoever shape he lurk, of whom  Thou telst, by morrow dawning I shall know.
183s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

So promis'd hee, and Uriel to his charge  Returnd on that bright beam, whose point now raisd                  590  Bore him slope downward to the Sun now fall'n  Beneath th' Azores; whither the prime Orb,  Incredible how swift, had thither rowl'd  Diurnal, or this less volubil 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 Eevning on, and Twilight gray  Had in her sober Liverie all things clad;  Silence accompanied, for Beast and Bird,                            600  They to thir grassie Couch, these to thir 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 Saphirs: Hesperus that led  The starrie Host, rode brightest, till the Moon  Rising in clouded Majestie, at length  Apparent Queen unvaild her peerless light,  And o're the dark her Silver Mantle threw.  When Adam thus to Eve: Fair Consort, th' hour                       610  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 eye-lids; other Creatures all day long  Rove idle unimploid, and less need rest;  Man hath his daily work of body or mind  Appointed, which declares his Dignitie,  And the regard of Heav'n on all his waies;                          620  While other Animals unactive range,  And of thir doings God takes no account.  Tomorrow ere fresh Morning streak the East  With first approach of light, we must be ris'n,  And at our pleasant labour, to reform  Yon flourie Arbors, yonder Allies green,  Our walks at noon, with branches overgrown,  That mock our scant manuring, and require  More hands then ours to lop thir wanton growth:  Those Blossoms also, and those dropping Gumms,                      630  That lie bestrowne unsightly and unsmooth,  Ask riddance, if we mean to tread with ease;  Mean while, as Nature wills, Night bids us rest.  To whom thus Eve with perfet beauty adornd.  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 womans happiest knowledge and her praise.  With thee conversing I forget all time,  All seasons and thir change, all please alike.                      640  Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet,  With charm of earliest Birds; pleasant the Sun  When first on this delightful Land he spreads  His orient Beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flour,  Glistring with dew; fragrant the fertil earth  After soft showers; and sweet the coming on  Of grateful Eevning milde, then silent Night  With this her solemn Bird and this fair Moon,  And these the Gemms of Heav'n, her starrie train:  But neither breath of Morn when she ascends                         650  With charm of earliest Birds, nor rising Sun  On this delightful land, nor herb, fruit, floure,  Glistring with dew, nor fragrance after showers,  Nor grateful Evening mild, nor silent Night  With this her solemn Bird, nor walk by Moon,  Or glittering Starr-light without thee is sweet.  But wherfore 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, accomplisht Eve,                           660  Those have thir course to finish, round the Earth,  By morrow Eevning, and from Land to Land  In order, though to Nations yet unborn,  Ministring light prepar'd, they set and rise;  Least total darkness should by Night regaine  Her old possession, and extinguish life  In Nature and all things, which these soft fires  Not only enlighten, but with kindly heate  Of various influence foment and warme,  Temper or nourish, or in part shed down                             670  Thir stellar vertue on all kinds that grow  On Earth, made hereby apter to receive  Perfection from the Suns 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 ceasless praise his works behold  Both day and night: how often from the steep                        680  Of echoing Hill or Thicket have we heard  Celestial voices to the midnight air,  Sole, or responsive each to others note  Singing thir great Creator: oft in bands  While they keep watch, or nightly rounding walk  With Heav'nly touch of instrumental sounds  In full harmonic number joind, thir songs  Divide the night, and lift our thoughts to Heaven.  Thus talking hand in hand alone they pass'd  On to thir blissful Bower; it was a place                           690  Chos'n by the sovran Planter, when he fram'd  All things to mans delightful use; the roofe  Of thickest covert was inwoven shade  Laurel and Mirtle, and what higher grew  Of firm and fragrant leaf; on either side  Acanthus, and each odorous bushie shrub  Fenc'd up the verdant wall; each beauteous flour,  Iris all hues, Roses, and Gessamin  Rear'd high thir flourisht heads between, and wrought  Mosaic; underfoot the Violet,                                       700  Crocus, and Hyacinth with rich inlay  Broiderd the ground, more colour'd then with stone  Of costliest Emblem: other Creature here  Beast, Bird, Insect, or Worm durst enter none;  Such was thir awe of man. In shadier Bower  More sacred and sequesterd, though but feignd,  Pan or Silvanus never slept, nor Nymph,  Nor Faunus haunted. Here in close recess  With Flowers, Garlands, and sweet-smelling Herbs  Espoused Eve deckt first her Nuptial Bed,                           710  And heav'nly Quires the Hymenaean sung,  What day the genial Angel to our Sire  Brought her in naked beauty more adorn'd,  More lovely then Pandora, whom the Gods  Endowd with all thir gifts, and O too like  In sad event, when to the unwiser Son  Of Japhet brought by Hermes, she ensnar'd  Mankind with her faire looks, to be aveng'd  On him who had stole Joves authentic fire.  Thus at thir shadie Lodge arriv'd, both stood,                      720  Both turnd, and under op'n Skie ador'd  The God that made both Skie, Air, Earth & Heav'n  Which they beheld, the Moons resplendent Globe  And starrie Pole: Thou also mad'st the Night,  Maker Omnipotent, and thou the Day,  Which we in our appointed work imployd  Have finisht happie in our mutual help  And mutual love, the Crown of all our bliss  Ordain'd by thee, and this delicious place  For us too large, where thy abundance wants                         730  Partakers, and uncropt falls to the ground.  But thou hast promis'd from us two a Race  To fill the Earth, who shall with us extoll  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 thir inmost bower  Handed they went; and eas'd the putting off  These troublesom disguises which wee wear,                          740  Strait side by side were laid, nor turnd I weene  Adam from his fair Spouse, nor Eve the Rites  Mysterious of connubial Love refus'd:  Whatever Hypocrites austerely talk  Of puritie and place and innocence,  Defaming as impure what God declares  Pure, and commands to som, leaves free to all.  Our Maker bids increase, who bids abstain  But our Destroyer, foe to God and Man?  Haile wedded Love, mysterious Law, true source                      750  Of human ofspring, sole proprietie,  In Paradise of all things common else.  By thee adulterous lust was driv'n from men  Among the bestial herds to raunge, by thee  Founded in Reason, Loyal, Just, and Pure,  Relations dear, and all the Charities  Of Father, Son, and Brother first were known.  Farr be it, that I should write thee sin or blame,  Or think thee unbefitting holiest place,  Perpetual Fountain of Domestic sweets,                              760  Whose Bed is undefil'd and chast pronounc't,  Present, or past, as Saints and Patriarchs us'd.  Here Love his golden shafts imploies, here lights  His constant Lamp, and waves his purple wings,  Reigns here and revels; not in the bought smile  Of Harlots, loveless, joyless, unindeard,  Casual fruition, nor in Court Amours  Mixt Dance, or wanton Mask, or Midnight Bal,  Or Serenate, which the starv'd Lover sings  To his proud fair, best quitted with disdain.                       770  These lulld by Nightingales imbraceing slept,  And on thir naked limbs the flourie roof  Showrd 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 shaddowie Cone  Half way up Hill this vast Sublunar Vault,  And from thir Ivorie Port the Cherubim  Forth issuing at th' accustomd hour stood armd  To thir night watches in warlike Parade,                            780  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 suttle Spirits he calld  That neer him stood, and gave them thus in charge.  Ithuriel and Zephon, with wingd speed  Search through this Garden, leav unsearcht no nook,  But chiefly where those two fair Creatures Lodge,                   790  Now laid perhaps asleep secure of harme.  This Eevning from the Sun's decline arriv'd  Who tells of som infernal Spirit seen  Hitherward bent (who could have thought?) escap'd  The barrs of Hell, on errand bad no doubt:  Such where ye find, seise fast, and hither bring.  So saying, on he led his radiant Files,
193s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

Daz'ling the Moon; these to the Bower direct  In search of whom they sought: him there they found  Squat like a Toad, close at the eare of Eve;                        800  Assaying by his Devilish art to reach  The Organs of her Fancie, 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 distemperd, discontented thoughts,  Vain hopes, vain aimes, inordinate desires  Blown up with high conceits ingendring pride.  Him thus intent Ithuriel with his Spear                             810  Touch'd lightly; for no falshood can endure  Touch of Celestial temper, but returns  Of force to its own likeness: up he starts  Discoverd and surpriz'd. As when a spark  Lights on a heap of nitrous Powder, laid  Fit for the Tun som Magazin to store  Against a rumord Warr, the Smuttie graine  With sudden blaze diffus'd, inflames the Aire:  So started up in his own shape the Fiend.  Back stept those two fair Angels half amaz'd                        820  So sudden to behold the grieslie King;  Yet thus, unmovd with fear, accost him soon.  Which of those rebell Spirits adjudg'd to Hell  Com'st thou, escap'd thy prison, and transform'd,  Why satst thou like an enemie in waite  Here watching at the head of these that sleep?  Know ye not then said Satan, filld with scorn,  Know ye not me? ye knew me once no mate  For you, there sitting where ye durst not soare;  Not to know mee argues your selves unknown,                         830  The lowest of your throng; or if ye know,  Why ask ye, and superfluous begin  Your message, like to end as much in vain?  To whom thus Zephon, answering scorn with scorn.  Think not, revolted Spirit, thy shape the same,  Or undiminisht brightness, to be known  As when thou stoodst in Heav'n upright and pure;  That Glorie then, when thou no more wast good,  Departed from thee, and thou resembl'st now  Thy sin and place of doom obscure and foule.                        840  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 Cherube, and his grave rebuke  Severe in youthful beautie, added grace  Invincible: abasht the Devil stood,  And felt how awful goodness is, and saw  Vertue in her shape how lovly, saw, and pin'd  His loss; but chiefly to find here observd  His lustre visibly impar'd; yet seemd                               850  Undaunted. If I must contend, said he,  Best with the best, the Sender not the sent,  Or all at once; more glorie will be wonn,  Or less be lost. Thy fear, said Zephon bold,  Will save us trial what the least can doe  Single against thee wicked, and thence weak.  The Fiend repli'd not, overcome with rage;  But like a proud Steed reind, went hautie on,  Chaumping his iron curb: to strive or flie  He held it vain; awe from above had quelld                          860  His heart, not else dismai'd. Now drew they nigh  The western point, where those half-rounding guards  Just met, & closing stood in squadron joind  Awaiting next command. To whom thir Chief  Gabriel from the Front thus calld aloud.  O friends, I hear the tread of nimble feet  Hasting this way, and now by glimps discerne  Ithuriel and Zephon through the shade,  And with them comes a third of Regal port,  But faded splendor wan; who by his gate                             870  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 approachd  And brief related whom they brought, wher found,  How busied, in what form and posture coucht.  To whom with stern regard thus Gabriel spake.  Why hast thou, Satan, broke the bounds prescrib'd  To thy transgressions, and disturbd the charge  Of others, who approve not to transgress                            880  By thy example, but have power and right  To question thy bold entrance on this place;  Imploi'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 askt  Puts me in doubt. Lives ther who loves his pain?  Who would not, finding way, break loose from Hell,  Though thither doomd? Thou wouldst thy self, no doubt,              890  And boldly venture to whatever place  Farthest from pain, where thou mightst hope to change  Torment with ease, & soonest recompence  Dole with delight, which in this place I sought;  To thee no reason; who knowst only good,  But evil hast not tri'd: and wilt object  His will who bound us? let him surer barr  His Iron Gates, if he intends our stay  In that dark durance: thus much what was askt.  The rest is true, they found me where they say;                     900  But that implies not violence or harme.  Thus hee 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 follie overthrew,  And now returns him from his prison scap't,  Gravely in doubt whether to hold them wise  Or not, who ask what boldness brought him hither  Unlicenc't from his bounds in Hell prescrib'd;  So wise he judges it to fly from pain                               910  However, and to scape his punishment.  So judge thou still, presumptuous, till the wrauth,  Which thou incurr'st by flying, meet thy flight  Seavenfold, and scourge that wisdom back to Hell,  Which taught thee yet no better, that no pain  Can equal anger infinite provok't.  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 then they  Less hardie to endure? courageous Chief,                            920  The first in flight from pain, had'st thou alleg'd  To thy deserted host this cause of flight,  Thou surely hadst not come sole fugitive.  To which the Fiend thus answerd frowning stern.  Not that I less endure, or shrink from pain,  Insulting Angel, well thou knowst I stood  Thy fiercest, when in Battel to thy aide  The blasting volied Thunder made all speed  And seconded thy else not dreaded Spear.  But still thy words at random, as before,                           930  Argue thy inexperience what behooves  From hard assaies and ill successes past  A faithful Leader, not to hazard all  Through wayes of danger by himself untri'd.  I therefore, I alone first undertook  To wing the desolate Abyss, and spie  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 Aire;                            940  Though for possession put to try once more  What thou and thy gay Legions dare against;  Whose easier business were to serve thir Lord  High up in Heav'n, with songs to hymne his Throne,  And practis'd distances to cringe, not fight.  To whom the warriour Angel soon repli'd.  To say and strait unsay, pretending first  Wise to flie pain, professing next the Spie,  Argues no Leader, but a lyar trac't,  Satan, and couldst thou faithful add? O name,                       950  O sacred name of faithfulness profan'd!  Faithful to whom? to thy rebellious crew?  Armie of Fiends, fit body to fit head;  Was this your discipline and faith ingag'd,  Your military obedience, to dissolve  Allegeance to th' acknowledg'd Power supream?  And thou sly hypocrite, who now wouldst seem  Patron of liberty, who more then thou  Once fawn'd, and cring'd, and servilly ador'd  Heav'ns awful Monarch? wherefore but in hope                        960  To dispossess him, and thy self to reigne?  But mark what I arreede thee now, avant;  Flie thither whence thou fledst: if from this houre  Within these hallowd limits thou appeer,  Back to th' infernal pit I drag thee chaind,  And Seale thee so, as henceforth not to scorne  The facil gates of hell too slightly barrd.  So threatn'd hee, but Satan to no threats  Gave heed, but waxing more in rage repli'd.  Then when I am thy captive talk of chaines,                         970  Proud limitarie Cherube, but ere then  Farr heavier load thy self expect to feel  From my prevailing arme, though Heavens King  Ride on thy wings, and thou with thy Compeers,  Us'd to the yoak, draw'st his triumphant wheels  In progress through the rode of Heav'n Star-pav'd.  While thus he spake, th' Angelic Squadron bright  Turnd fierie red, sharpning in mooned hornes  Thir Phalanx, and began to hemm him round  With ported Spears, as thick as when a field                        980  Of Ceres ripe for harvest waving bends  Her bearded Grove of ears, which way the wind  Swayes them; the careful Plowman doubting stands  Least on the threshing floore his hopeful sheaves  Prove chaff. On th' other side Satan allarm'd  Collecting all his might dilated stood,  Like Teneriff or Atlas unremov'd:  His stature reacht the Skie, and on his Crest  Sat horror Plum'd; nor wanted in his graspe  What seemd both Spear and Shield: now dreadful deeds                990  Might have ensu'd, nor onely Paradise  In this commotion, but the Starrie Cope  Of Heav'n perhaps, or all the Elements  At least had gon to rack, disturbd and torne  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 Astrea and the Scorpion signe,  Wherein all things created first he weighd,  The pendulous round Earth with ballanc't Aire                      1000  In counterpoise, now ponders all events,  Battels and Realms: in these he put two weights  The sequel each of parting and of fight;  The latter quick up flew, and kickt the beam;  Which Gabriel spying, thus bespake the Fiend.  Satan, I know thy strength, and thou knowst mine,  Neither our own but giv'n; what follie then  To boast what Arms can doe, since thine no more  Then Heav'n permits, nor mine, though doubld now  To trample thee as mire: for proof look up,                        1010  And read thy Lot in yon celestial Sign  Where thou art weigh'd, & shown how light, how weak,  If thou resist. The Fiend lookt up and knew  His mounted scale aloft: nor more; but fled  Murmuring, and with him fled the shades of night.
194s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

Notes:  Argument: promises to find him out]  promises to find him 1674  627 walks] walk 1674.  928 The] Thy 1674.  The End Of The Fourth Book.





BOOK V.

THE ARGUMENT.

Morning approach't, Eve relates to Adam her troublesome dream:he likes it not, yet comforts her: They come forth to thir daylabours: Their Morning Hymn at the Door of their Bower. God torender Man inexcusable sends Raphael to admonish him of hisobedience, of his free estate, of his enemy near at hand; who heis, and why his enemy, and whatever else may avail Adam to know.Raphael comes down to Paradise; his appearance describ'd, hiscoming discern'd by Adam afar off sitting at the door of hisBower; he goes out to meet him, brings him to his lodge,entertains him with the choycest fruits of Paradise got togetherby Eve; their discourse at Table: Raphael performs his message,minds Adam of his state and of his enemy; relates at Adamsrequest who that enemy is, and how he came to be so, beginningwith his first revolt in Heaven and the occasion thereof; how hedrew his Legions after him to the parts of the North, and thereincited them to rebel with him, perswading all but only Abdiel aSeraph, who in Argument diswades and opposes him, then forsakeshim.

Now Morn her rosie steps in th' Eastern Clime  Advancing, sow'd the Earth with Orient Pearle,  When Adam wak't, so customd, for his sleep  Was Aerie light, from pure digestion bred,  And temperat vapors 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,                         10  As through unquiet rest: he on his side  Leaning half-rais'd, with looks of cordial Love  Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld  Beautie, which whether waking or asleep,
204s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

Shot forth peculiar Graces; then with voice  Milde, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes,  Her hand soft touching, whisperd thus. Awake  My fairest, my espous'd, my latest found,  Heav'ns last best gift, my ever new delight,  Awake, the morning shines, and the fresh field                       20  Calls us, we lose the prime, to mark how spring  Our tended Plants, how blows the Citron Grove,  What drops the Myrrhe, & what the balmie 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 imbracing, thus she spake.  O Sole in whom my thoughts find all repose,  My Glorie, my Perfection, glad I see  Thy face, and Morn return'd, for I this Night,                       30  Such night till this I never pass'd, have dream'd,  If dream'd, not as I oft am wont, of thee,  Works of day pass't, or morrows next designe,  But of offence and trouble, which my mind  Knew never till this irksom 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                           40  Tunes sweetest his love-labor'd song; now reignes  Full Orb'd the Moon, and with more pleasing light  Shadowie sets off the face of things; in vain,  If none regard; Heav'n wakes with all his eyes,  Whom to behold but thee, Natures 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                       50  That brought me on a sudden to the Tree  Of interdicted Knowledge: fair it seem'd,  Much fairer to my Fancie then by day:  And as I wondring lookt, beside it stood  One shap'd and wing'd like one of those from Heav'n  By us oft seen; his dewie 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?                          60  Or envie, or what reserve forbids to taste?  Forbid who will, none shall from me withhold  Longer thy offerd good, why else set here?  This said he paus'd not, but with ventrous Arme  He pluckt, he tasted; mee damp horror chil'd  At such bold words voucht with a deed so bold:  But he thus overjoy'd, O Fruit Divine,  Sweet of thy self, but much more sweet thus cropt,  Forbidd'n here, it seems, as onely fit  For Gods, yet able to make Gods of Men:                              70  And why not Gods of Men, since good, the more  Communicated, more abundant growes,  The Author not impair'd, but honourd more?  Here, happie Creature, fair Angelic Eve,  Partake thou also; happie 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 confind,  But somtimes in the Air, as wee, somtimes  Ascend to Heav'n, by merit thine, and see                            80  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 pluckt; the pleasant savourie 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 outstretcht immense, a prospect wide  And various: wondring at my flight and change  To this high exaltation; suddenly                                    90  My Guide was gon, 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 answerd 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 Soule                            100  Are many lesser Faculties that serve  Reason as chief; among these Fansie next  Her office holds; of all external things,  Which the five watchful Senses represent,  She forms Imaginations, Aerie shapes,  Which Reason joyning or disjoyning, 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 Fansie wakes                               110  To imitate her; but misjoyning shapes,  Wilde work produces oft, and most in dreams,  Ill matching words and deeds long past or late.  Som such resemblances methinks I find  Of our last Eevnings 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 abhorr to dream,                      120  Waking thou never wilt consent to do.  Be not disheart'nd then, nor cloud those looks  That wont to be more chearful and serene  Then when fair Morning first smiles on the World,  And let us to our fresh imployments rise  Among the Groves, the Fountains, and the Flours  That open now thir choicest bosom'd smells  Reservd from night, and kept for thee in store.  So cheard he his fair Spouse, and she was cheard,  But silently a gentle tear let fall                                 130  From either eye, and wip'd them with her haire;  Two other precious drops that ready stood,  Each in thir chrystal sluce, hee ere they fell  Kiss'd as the gracious signs of sweet remorse  And pious awe, that feard to have offended.  So all was cleard, and to the Field they haste.  But first from under shadie 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're the Ocean brim,                       140  Shot paralel to the earth his dewie ray,  Discovering in wide Lantskip all the East  Of Paradise and Edens happie Plains,  Lowly they bow'd adoring, and began  Thir Orisons, each Morning duly paid  In various style, for neither various style  Nor holy rapture wanted they to praise  Thir Maker, in fit strains pronounc't or sung  Unmeditated, such prompt eloquence  Flowd from thir lips, in Prose or numerous Verse,                   150  More tuneable then needed Lute or Harp  To add more sweetness, and they thus began.  These are thy glorious works, Parent of good,  Almightie, thine this universal Frame,  Thus wondrous fair; thy self how wondrous then!  Unspeakable, who sitst 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 yee who best can tell, ye Sons of light,                      160  Angels, for yee behold him, and with songs  And choral symphonies, Day without Night,  Circle his Throne rejoycing, yee in Heav'n,  On Earth joyn all yee Creatures to extoll  Him first, him last, him midst, and without end.  Fairest of Starrs, last in the train of Night,  If better thou belong not to the dawn,  Sure pledge of day, that crownst the smiling Morn  With thy bright Circlet, praise him in thy Spheare  While day arises, that sweet hour of Prime.                         170  Thou Sun, of this great World both Eye and Soule,  Acknowledge him thy Greater, sound his praise  In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st,  And when high Noon hast gaind, & when thou fallst.  Moon, that now meetst the orient Sun, now fli'st  With the fixt Starrs, fixt in thir Orb that flies,  And yee five other wandring Fires that move  In mystic Dance not without Song, resound  His praise, who out of Darkness call'd up Light.  Aire, and ye Elements the eldest birth                              180  Of Natures Womb, that in quaternion run  Perpetual Circle, multiform; and mix  And nourish all things, let your ceasless change  Varie to our great Maker still new praise.  Ye Mists and Exhalations that now rise  From Hill or steaming Lake, duskie or grey,  Till the Sun paint your fleecie skirts with Gold,  In honour to the Worlds great Author rise,  Whether to deck with Clouds the uncolourd skie,  Or wet the thirstie Earth with falling showers,                     190  Rising or falling still advance his praise.  His praise ye Winds, that from four Quarters blow,  Breath soft or loud; and wave your tops, ye Pines,  With every Plant, in sign of Worship wave.  Fountains and yee, that warble, as ye flow,  Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise.  Joyn voices all ye living Souls, ye Birds,  That singing up to Heaven Gate ascend,  Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise;  Yee that in Waters glide, and yee that walk                         200  The Earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep;  Witness if I be silent, Morn or Eeven,  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 onely good; and if the night  Have gathered aught of evil or conceald,  Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark.  So pray'd they innocent, and to thir thoughts  Firm peace recoverd soon and wonted calm.                           210  On to thir mornings rural work they haste  Among sweet dewes and flours; where any row  Of Fruit-trees overwoodie reachd too farr  Thir pamperd boughes, and needed hands to check  Fruitless imbraces: or they led the Vine  To wed her Elm; she spous'd about him twines  Her mariageable arms, and with her brings  Her dowr th' adopted Clusters, to adorn  His barren leaves. Them thus imploid beheld  With pittie Heav'ns high King, and to him call'd                    220  Raphael, the sociable Spirit, that deign'd  To travel with Tobias, and secur'd  His marriage with the seaventimes-wedded Maid.  Raphael, said hee, thou hear'st what stir on Earth  Satan from Hell scap't through the darksom Gulf  Hath raisd in Paradise, and how disturbd  This night the human pair, how he designes  In them at once to ruin all mankind.  Go therefore, half this day as friend with friend  Converse with Adam, in what Bowre or shade                          230  Thou find'st him from the heat of Noon retir'd,  To respit his day-labour with repast,  Or with repose; and such discourse bring on,  As may advise him of his happie state,  Happiness in his power left free to will,  Left to his own free Will, his Will though free,  Yet mutable; whence warne him to beware  He swerve not too secure: tell him withall  His danger, and from whom, what enemie  Late falln himself from Heav'n, is plotting now                     240  The fall of others from like state of bliss;  By violence, no, for that shall be withstood,  But by deceit and lies; this let him know,  Least wilfully transgressing he pretend  Surprisal, unadmonisht, unforewarnd.  So spake th' Eternal Father, and fulfilld  All Justice: nor delaid the winged Saint  After his charge receivd, but from among  Thousand Celestial Ardors, where he stood  Vaild with his gorgeous wings, up springing light                   250  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-opend 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,  Starr interpos'd, however small he sees,  Not unconform to other shining Globes,  Earth and the Gard'n of God, with Cedars crownd                     260  Above all Hills. As when by night the Glass  Of Galileo, less assur'd, observes  Imagind Lands and Regions in the Moon:  Or Pilot from amidst the Cyclades  Delos or Samos first appeering kenns  A cloudy spot. Down thither prone in flight  He speeds, and through the vast Ethereal Skie  Sailes between worlds & worlds, with steddie wing  Now on the polar windes, then with quick Fann  Winnows the buxom Air; till within soare                            270  Of Towring Eagles, to all the Fowles he seems  A Phoenix, gaz'd by all, as that sole Bird  When to enshrine his reliques in the Sun's  Bright Temple, to Aegyptian Theb's he flies.  At once on th' Eastern cliff of Paradise  He lights, and to his proper shape returns  A Seraph wingd; six wings he wore, to shade  His lineaments Divine; the pair that clad  Each shoulder broad, came mantling o're his brest  With regal Ornament; the middle pair                                280  Girt like a Starrie Zone his waste, and round  Skirted his loines and thighes with downie Gold  And colours dipt in Heav'n; the third his feet  Shaddowd from either heele with featherd maile  Skie-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 som message high they guessd him bound.                      290  Thir glittering Tents he passd, and now is come  Into the blissful field, through Groves of Myrrhe,  And flouring Odours, Cassia, Nard, and Balme;  A Wilderness of sweets; for Nature here  Wantond as in her prime, and plaid at will  Her Virgin Fancies, pouring forth more sweet,  Wilde above rule or art; enormous bliss.  Him through the spicie Forrest onward com  Adam discernd, as in the dore he sat  Of his coole Bowre, while now the mounted Sun                       300  Shot down direct his fervid Raies, to warme  Earths inmost womb, more warmth then Adam needs;  And Eve within, due at her hour prepar'd  For dinner savourie fruits, of taste to please  True appetite, and not disrelish thirst  Of nectarous draughts between, from milkie stream,  Berrie or Grape: to whom thus Adam call'd.  Haste hither Eve, and worth thy sight behold  Eastward among those Trees, what glorious shape
206s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

Comes this way moving; seems another Morn                           310  Ris'n on mid-noon; som great behest from Heav'n  To us perhaps he brings, and will voutsafe  This day to be our Guest. But goe with speed,  And what thy stores contain, bring forth and poure  Abundance, fit to honour and receive  Our Heav'nly stranger; well we may afford  Our givers thir 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.                     320  To whom thus Eve. Adam, earths hallowd 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 & juciest Gourd will pluck such choice  To entertain our Angel guest, as hee  Beholding shall confess that here on Earth  God hath dispenst his bounties as in Heav'n.                        330  So saying, with dispatchful looks in haste  She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent  What choice to chuse for delicacie best,  What order, so contriv'd as not to mix  Tastes, not well joynd, inelegant, but bring  Taste after taste upheld with kindliest change,  Bestirs her then, and from each tender stalk  Whatever Earth all-bearing Mother yeilds  In India East or West, or middle shoare  In Pontus or the Punic Coast, or where                              340  Alcinous reign'd, fruit of all kindes, in coate,  Rough, or smooth rin'd, or bearded husk, or shell  She gathers, Tribute large, and on the board  Heaps with unsparing hand; for drink the Grape  She crushes, inoffensive moust, and meathes  From many a berrie, and from sweet kernels prest  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                        350  His god-like Guest, walks forth, without more train  Accompani'd then with his own compleat  Perfections, in himself was all his state,  More solemn then the tedious pomp that waits  On Princes, when thir rich Retinue long  Of Horses led, and Grooms besmeard with Gold  Dazles the croud, and sets them all agape.  Neerer his presence Adam though not awd,  Yet with submiss approach and reverence meek,  As to a superior Nature, bowing low,                                360  Thus said. Native of Heav'n, for other place  None can then Heav'n such glorious shape contain;  Since by descending from the Thrones above,  Those happie places thou hast deignd a while  To want, and honour these, voutsafe with us  Two onely, who yet by sov'ran gift possess  This spacious ground, in yonder shadie Bowre  To rest, and what the Garden choicest bears  To sit and taste, till this meridian heat  Be over, and the Sun more coole decline.                            370  Whom thus the Angelic Vertue answerd milde.  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 Bowre  Oreshades; for these mid-hours, till Eevning rise  I have at will. So to the Silvan Lodge  They came, that like Pomona's Arbour smil'd  With flourets deck't and fragrant smells; but Eve  Undeckt, save with her self more lovely fair                        380  Then 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 vaile  Shee needed, Vertue-proof, no thought infirme  Alterd her cheek. On whom the Angel Haile  Bestowd, the holy salutation us'd  Long after to blest Marie, second Eve.  Haile Mother of Mankind, whose fruitful Womb  Shall fill the World more numerous with thy Sons  Then with these various fruits the Trees of God                     390  Have heap'd this Table. Rais'd of grassie terf  Thir Table was, and mossie 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 coole; when thus began  Our Authour. Heav'nly stranger, please to taste  These bounties which our Nourisher, from whom  All perfet good unmeasur'd out, descends,  To us for food and for delight hath caus'd                          400  The Earth to yeild; unsavourie 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 facultie                                    410  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 sustaind 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 turnd.                           420  Nor doth the Moon no nourishment exhale  From her moist Continent to higher Orbes.  The Sun that light imparts to all, receives  From all his alimental recompence  In humid exhalations, and at Even  Sups with the Ocean: though in Heav'n the Trees  Of life ambrosial frutage bear, and vines  Yeild Nectar, though from off the boughs each Morn  We brush mellifluous Dewes, and find the ground  Cover'd with pearly grain: yet God hath here                        430  Varied his bounty so with new delights,  As may compare with Heaven; and to taste  Think not I shall be nice. So down they sat,  And to thir 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 Alchimist                                 440  Can turn, or holds it possible to turn  Metals of drossiest Ore to perfet Gold  As from the Mine. Mean while at Table Eve  Ministerd naked, and thir flowing cups  With pleasant liquors crown'd: O innocence  Deserving Paradise! if ever, then,  Then had the Sons of God excuse to have bin  Enamour'd at that sight; but in those hearts  Love unlibidinous reign'd, nor jealousie  Was understood, the injur'd Lovers Hell.                            450  Thus when with meats & 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 thir being  Who dwell in Heav'n, whose excellence he saw  Transcend his own so farr, whose radiant forms  Divine effulgence, whose high Power so far  Exceeded human, and his wary speech  Thus to th' Empyreal Minister he fram'd.                            460  Inhabitant with God, now know I well  Thy favour, in this honour done to man,  Under whose lowly roof thou hast voutsaf't  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'ns high feasts to have fed: yet what compare?  To whom the winged Hierarch repli'd.
217s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

O Adam, one Almightie is, from whom  All things proceed, and up to him return,                           470  If not deprav'd from good, created all  Such to perfection, one first matter all,  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 neerer to him plac't or neerer tending  Each in thir several active Sphears assignd,  Till body up to spirit work, in bounds  Proportiond to each kind. So from the root  Springs lighter the green stalk, from thence the leaves             480  More aerie, last the bright consummate floure  Spirits odorous breathes: flours and thir fruit  Mans nourishment, by gradual scale sublim'd  To vital Spirits aspire, to animal,  To intellectual, give both life and sense,  Fansie and understanding, whence the soule  Reason receives, and reason is her being,  Discursive, or Intuitive; discourse  Is oftest yours, the latter most is ours,  Differing but in degree, of kind the same.                          490  Wonder not then, what God for you saw good  If I refuse not, but convert, as you,  To proper substance; time may come when men  With Angels may participate, and find  No inconvenient Diet, nor too light Fare:  And from these corporal nutriments perhaps  Your bodies may at last turn all to Spirit  Improv'd by tract of time, and wingd ascend  Ethereal, as wee, or may at choice  Here or in Heav'nly Paradises dwell;                                500  If ye be found obedient, and retain  Unalterably firm his love entire  Whose progenie you are. Mean while enjoy  Your fill what happiness this happie 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 center to circumference, whereon                               510  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 wee want obedience then  To him, or possibly his love desert  Who formd 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 happie, owe to God;                           520  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 perfet, not immutable;  And good he made thee, but to persevere  He left it in thy power, ordaind thy will  By nature free, not over-rul'd by Fate  Inextricable, or strict necessity;  Our voluntarie service he requires,  Not our necessitated, such with him                                 530  Findes 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 Destinie, and can no other choose?  My self and all th' Angelic Host that stand  In sight of God enthron'd, our happie state  Hold, as you yours, while our obedience holds;  On other surety none; freely we serve.  Because wee freely love, as in our will  To love or not; in this we stand or fall:                           540  And som 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 eare  Divine instructer, I have heard, then when  Cherubic Songs by night from neighbouring Hills  Aereal Music send: nor knew I not  To be both will and deed created free;  Yet that we never shall forget to love                              550  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, som 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 finisht half his journey, and scarce begins  His other half in the great Zone of Heav'n.                         560  Thus Adam made request, and Raphael  After short pause assenting, thus began.  High matter thou injoinst 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 perfet while they stood; how last unfould  The secrets of another world, perhaps  Not lawful to reveal? yet for thy good                              570  This is dispenc't, 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 shaddow of Heav'n, and things therein  Each to other like, more then on earth is thought?  As yet this world was not, and Chaos wilde  Reignd where these Heav'ns now rowl, where Earth now rests  Upon her Center pois'd, when on a day  (For Time, though in Eternitie, appli'd                             580  To motion, measures all things durable  By present, past, and future) on such day  As Heav'ns great Year brings forth, th' Empyreal Host  Of Angels by Imperial summons call'd,  Innumerable before th' Almighties Throne  Forthwith from all the ends of Heav'n appeerd  Under thir Hierarchs in orders bright  Ten thousand thousand Ensignes high advanc'd,  Standards, and Gonfalons twixt Van and Reare  Streame in the Aire, and for distinction serve                      590  Of Hierarchies, of Orders, and Degrees;  Or in thir glittering Tissues bear imblaz'd  Holy Memorials, acts of Zeale and Love  Recorded eminent. Thus when in Orbes  Of circuit inexpressible they stood,  Orb within Orb, the Father infinite,  By whom in bliss imbosom'd sat the Son,  Amidst as from a flaming Mount, whose top  Brightness had made invisible, thus spake.  Hear all ye Angels, Progenie of Light,                              600  Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Vertues, Powers,  Hear my Decree, which unrevok't shall stand.  This day I have begot whom I declare  My onely 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 Soule                                      610  For ever happie: him who disobeyes  Mee disobeyes, breaks union, and that day  Cast out from God and blessed vision, falls  Into utter darkness, deep ingulft, his place  Ordaind without redemption, without end.  So spake th' Omnipotent, and with his words  All seemd well pleas'd, all seem'd, but were not all.  That day, as other solem dayes, they spent  In song and dance about the sacred Hill,  Mystical dance, which yonder starrie Spheare                        620  Of Planets and of fixt in all her Wheeles  Resembles nearest, mazes intricate,  Eccentric, intervolv'd, yet regular  Then most, when most irregular they seem:  And in thir motions harmonie Divine  So smooths her charming tones, that Gods own ear  Listens delighted. Eevning approachd  (For we have also our Eevning and our Morn,  We ours for change delectable, not need)  Forthwith from dance to sweet repast they turn                      630  Desirous, all in Circles as they stood,  Tables are set, and on a sudden pil'd  With Angels Food, and rubied Nectar flows:  In Pearl, in Diamond, and massie Gold,  Fruit of delicious Vines, the growth of Heav'n.  They eat, they drink, and with refection sweet  Are fill'd, before th' all bounteous King, who showrd  With copious hand, rejoycing in thir joy.  Now when ambrosial Night with Clouds exhal'd  From that high mount of God, whence light & shade                   640  Spring both, the face of brightest Heav'n had changd  To grateful Twilight (for Night comes not there  In darker veile) and roseat Dews dispos'd  All but the unsleeping eyes of God to rest,  Wide over all the Plain, and wider farr  Then all this globous Earth in Plain outspred,  (Such are the Courts of God) Th' Angelic throng  Disperst in Bands and Files thir Camp extend  By living Streams among the Trees of Life,  Pavilions numberless, and sudden reard,                             650  Celestial Tabernacles, where they slept  Fannd with coole Winds, save those who in thir course  Melodious Hymns about the sovran Throne  Alternate all night long: but not so wak'd  Satan, so call him now, his former name  Is heard no more in Heav'n; he of the first,  If not the first Arch-Angel, great in Power,  In favour and praeeminence, yet fraught  With envie against the Son of God, that day  Honourd by his great Father, and proclaimd                          660  Messiah King anointed, could not beare  Through pride that sight, and thought himself impaird.  Deep malice thence conceiving & disdain,  Soon as midnight brought on the duskie houre  Friendliest to sleep and silence, he resolv'd  With all his Legions to dislodge, and leave  Unworshipt, unobey'd the Throne supream  Contemptuous, and his next subordinate  Awak'ning, thus to him in secret spake.  Sleepst thou Companion dear, what sleep can close                   670  Thy eye-lids? and remembrest what Decree  Of yesterday, so late hath past the lips  Of Heav'ns Almightie. 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                                 680  Of all those Myriads which we lead the chief;  Tell them that by command, ere yet dim Night  Her shadowie Cloud withdraws, I am to haste,  And all who under me thir 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.                          690  So spake the false Arch-Angel, and infus'd  Bad influence into th' unwarie brest  Of his Associate; hee 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 disincumberd Heav'n,  The great Hierarchal Standard was to move;  Tells the suggested cause, and casts between  Ambiguous words and jealousies, to sound                            700  Or taint integritie; but all obey'd  The wonted signal, and superior voice  Of thir great Potentate; for great indeed  His name, and high was his degree in Heav'n;  His count'nance, as the Morning Starr that guides  The starrie flock, allur'd them, and with lyes  Drew after him the third part of Heav'ns Host:  Mean while th' Eternal eye, whose sight discernes  Abstrusest thoughts, from forth his holy Mount  And from within the golden Lamps that burne                         710  Nightly before him, saw without thir light  Rebellion rising, saw in whom, how spred  Among the sons of Morn, what multitudes  Were banded to oppose his high Decree;  And smiling to his onely Son thus said.  Son, thou in whom my glory I behold  In full resplendence, Heir of all my might,  Neerly it now concernes us to be sure  Of our Omnipotence, and with what Arms  We mean to hold what anciently we claim                             720  Of Deitie 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 trie  In battel, what our Power is, or our right.  Let us advise, and to this hazard draw  With speed what force is left, and all imploy  In our defence, lest unawares we lose  This our high place, our Sanctuarie, our Hill.  To whom the Son with calm aspect and cleer                          730  Light'ning Divine, ineffable, serene,  Made answer. Mightie Father, thou thy foes  Justly hast in derision, and secure  Laugh'st at thir vain designes and tumults vain,  Matter to mee of Glory, whom thir hate  Illustrates, when they see all Regal Power  Giv'n me to quell thir 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                         740  Farr was advanc't on winged speed, an Host  Innumerable as the Starrs of Night,  Or Starrs of Morning, Dew-drops, which the Sun  Impearls on every leaf and every flouer.  Regions they pass'd, the mightie Regencies  Of Seraphim and Potentates and Thrones  In thir triple Degrees, Regions to which  All thy Dominion, Adam, is no more  Then what this Garden is to all the Earth,  And all the Sea, from one entire globose                            750  Stretcht 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 Towrs  From Diamond Quarries hew'n, & Rocks of Gold,  The Palace of great Lucifer, (so call  That Structure in the Dialect of men  Interpreted) which not long after, hee  Affecting all equality with God,                                    760  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 thir King,  Thither to come, and with calumnious Art  Of counterfeted truth thus held thir ears.  Thrones, Dominations, Princedomes, Vertues, Powers,  If these magnific Titles yet remain                                 770  Not meerly titular, since by Decree  Another now hath to himself ingross't  All Power, and us eclipst under the name  Of King anointed, for whom all this haste  Of midnight march, and hurried meeting here,  This onely 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,                            780  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 chuse 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 possest before  By none, and if not equal all, yet free,  Equally free; for Orders and Degrees  Jarr not with liberty, but well consist.                            790  Who can in reason then or right assume  Monarchie over such as live by right  His equals, if in power and splendor less,  In freedome equal? or can introduce  Law and Edict on us, who without law  Erre 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 farr his bold discourse without controule                      800  Had audience, when among the Seraphim  Abdiel, then whom none with more zeale ador'd  The Deitie, and divine commands obei'd,  Stood up, and in a flame of zeale severe  The current of his fury thus oppos'd.  O argument blasphemous, false and proud!  Words which no eare ever to hear in Heav'n  Expected, least of all from thee, ingrate  In place thy self so high above thy Peeres.  Canst thou with impious obloquie condemne                           810  The just Decree of God, pronounc't and sworn,  That to his only Son by right endu'd  With Regal Scepter, every Soule in Heav'n  Shall bend the knee, and in that honour due  Confess him rightful King? unjust thou saist  Flatly unjust, to binde with Laws the free,  And equal over equals to let Reigne,  One over all with unsucceeded power.  Shalt thou give Law to God, shalt thou dispute  With him the points of libertie, who made                           820  Thee what thou art, & formd the Pow'rs of Heav'n  Such as he pleasd, and circumscrib'd thir being?  Yet by experience taught we know how good,  And of our good, and of our dignitie  How provident he is, how farr from thought  To make us less, bent rather to exalt  Our happie state under one Head more neer  United. But to grant it thee unjust,  That equal over equals Monarch Reigne:  Thy self though great & glorious dost thou count,                   830  Or all Angelic Nature joind 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 thir bright degrees,  Crownd them with Glory, & to thir Glory nam'd  Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Vertues, Powers  Essential Powers, nor by his Reign obscur'd,  But more illustrious made, since he the Head  One of our number thus reduc't becomes,                             840  His Laws our Laws, all honour to him done  Returns our own. Cease then this impious rage,  And tempt not these; but hast'n to appease  Th' incensed Father, and th' incensed Son,  While Pardon may be found in time besought.  So spake the fervent Angel, but his zeale  None seconded, as out of season judg'd,  Or singular and rash, whereat rejoic'd  Th' Apostat, and more haughty thus repli'd.  That we were formd then saist thou? & the work                      850  Of secondarie hands, by task transferd  From Father to his Son? strange point and new!  Doctrin 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 Orbe, the birth mature  Of this our native Heav'n, Ethereal Sons.                           860  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 carrie to th' anointed King;  And fly, ere evil intercept thy flight.  He said, and as the sound of waters deep  Hoarce murmur echo'd to his words applause                          870  Through the infinite Host, nor less for that  The flaming Seraph fearless, though alone  Encompass'd round with foes, thus answerd bold.  O alienate from God, O spirit accurst,  Forsak'n of all good; I see thy fall  Determind, and thy hapless crew involv'd  In this perfidious fraud, contagion spred  Both of thy crime and punishment: henceforth  No more be troubl'd how to quit the yoke  Of Gods Messiah; those indulgent Laws                               880  Will not be now voutsaf't, other Decrees  Against thee are gon forth without recall;  That Golden Scepter which thou didst reject  Is now an Iron Rod to bruise and breake  Thy disobedience. Well thou didst advise,  Yet not for thy advise or threats I fly  These wicked Tents devoted, least the wrauth  Impendent, raging into sudden flame  Distinguish not: for soon expect to feel  His Thunder on thy head, devouring fire.                            890  Then who created thee lamenting learne,  When who can uncreate thee thou shalt know.  So spake the Seraph Abdiel faithful found,  Among the faithless, faithful only hee;  Among innumerable false, unmov'd,  Unshak'n, unseduc'd, unterrifi'd  His Loyaltie he kept, his Love, his Zeale;  Nor number, nor example with him wrought  To swerve from truth, or change his constant mind  Though single. From amidst them forth he passd,                     900  Long way through hostile scorn, which he susteind  Superior, nor of violence fear'd aught;  And with retorted scorn his back he turn'd  On those proud Towrs to swift destruction doom'd.  Notes:  627: Eevning approachd] Eevning now approachd 1674  636-639: On flours repos'd, and with fresh flourets crown'd           They eate, they drink, and in communion sweet           Quaff immortalitie and joy, secure           Of surfet where full measure onely bounds           Excess, before th'all bounteous King, who showrd 1674.  The End Of The Fifth Book.





BOOK VI.

THE ARGUMENT.

Raphael continues to relate how Michael and Gabriel were sentforth to Battel against Satan and his Angels. The first Fightdescrib'd: Satan and his Powers retire under Night: he calls aCouncel, invents devilish Engines, which in the second dayesFight put Michael and his Angels to some disorder; But they atlength pulling up Mountains overwhelm'd both the force andMachins of Satan: Yet the Tumult not so ending, God on the thirdday sends Messiah his Son, for whom he had reserv'd the glory ofthat Victory. Hee in the Power of his Father coming to the place,and causing all his Legions to stand still on either side, withhis Chariot and Thunder driving into the midst of his Enemies,pursues them unable to resist towards the wall of Heaven; whichopening, they leap down with horror and confusion into the placeof punishment prepar'd for them in the Deep: Messiah returns withtriumph to his Father.

All night the dreadless Angel unpursu'd  Through Heav'ns wide Champain held his way, till Morn,  Wak't by the circling Hours, with rosie hand  Unbarr'd the gates of Light. There is a Cave  Within the Mount of God, fast by his Throne,  Where light and darkness in perpetual round  Lodge and dislodge by turns, which makes through Heav'n  Grateful vicissitude, like Day and Night;  Light issues forth, and at the other dore  Obsequious darkness enters, till her houre                           10  To veile the Heav'n, though darkness there might well  Seem twilight here; and now went forth the Morn  Such as in highest Heav'n, arrayd in Gold  Empyreal, from before her vanisht Night,  Shot through with orient Beams: when all the Plain  Coverd with thick embatteld Squadrons bright,  Chariots and flaming Armes, and fierie Steeds  Reflecting blaze on blaze, first met his view:  Warr he perceav'd, warr in procinct, and found  Already known what he for news had thought                           20  To have reported: gladly then he mixt  Among those friendly Powers who him receav'd  With joy and acclamations loud, that one  That of so many Myriads fall'n, yet one  Returnd not lost: On to the sacred hill  They led him high applauded, and present  Before the seat supream; from whence a voice  From midst a Golden Cloud thus milde was heard.  Servant of God, well done, well hast thou fought  The better fight, who single hast maintaind                          30  Against revolted multitudes the Cause  Of Truth, in word mightier then they in Armes;  And for the testimonie of Truth hast born  Universal reproach, far worse to beare  Then violence: for this was all thy care  To stand approv'd in sight of God, though Worlds  Judg'd thee perverse: the easier conquest now  Remains thee, aided by this host of friends,  Back on thy foes more glorious to return  Then scornd thou didst depart, and to subdue                         40  By force, who reason for thir Law refuse,  Right reason for thir Law, and for thir King  Messiah, who by right of merit Reigns.  Goe Michael of Celestial Armies Prince,  And thou in Military prowess next  Gabriel, lead forth to Battel these my Sons  Invincible, lead forth my armed Saints  By Thousands and by Millions rang'd for fight;  Equal in number to that Godless crew  Rebellious, them with Fire and hostile Arms                          50  Fearless assault, and to the brow of Heav'n  Pursuing drive them out from God and bliss,  Into thir place of punishment, the Gulf  Of Tartarus, which ready opens wide  His fiery Chaos to receave thir fall.  So spake the Sovran voice, and Clouds began  To darken all the Hill, and smoak to rowl  In duskie wreathes, reluctant flames, the signe  Of wrauth awak't: nor with less dread the loud  Ethereal Trumpet from on high gan blow:                              60  At which command the Powers Militant,  That stood for Heav'n, in mighty Quadrate joyn'd  Of Union irresistible, mov'd on  In silence thir bright Legions, to the sound  Of instrumental Harmonie that breath'd  Heroic Ardor to advent'rous deeds  Under thir God-like Leaders, in the Cause  Of God and his Messiah. On they move  Indissolubly firm; nor obvious Hill,  Nor streit'ning Vale, nor Wood, nor Stream divides                   70  Thir perfet ranks; for high above the ground  Thir march was, and the passive Air upbore  Thir nimble tread; as when the total kind  Of Birds in orderly array on wing  Came summond over Eden to receive  Thir names of thee; so over many a tract  Of Heav'n they march'd, and many a Province wide  Tenfold the length of this terrene: at last  Farr in th' Horizon to the North appeer'd  From skirt to skirt a fierie Region, stretcht                        80  In battailous aspect, and neerer view  Bristl'd with upright beams innumerable  Of rigid Spears, and Helmets throng'd, and Shields  Various, with boastful Argument portraid,  The banded Powers of Satan hasting on  With furious expedition; for they weend  That self same day by fight, or by surprize  To win the Mount of God, and on his Throne  To set the envier of his State, the proud  Aspirer, but thir thoughts prov'd fond and vain                      90  In the mid way: though strange to us it seemd  At first, that Angel should with Angel warr,  And in fierce hosting meet, who wont to meet  So oft in Festivals of joy and love  Unanimous, as sons of one great Sire  Hymning th' Eternal Father: but the shout  Of Battel now began, and rushing sound  Of onset ended soon each milder thought.  High in the midst exalted as a God  Th' Apostat in his Sun-bright Chariot sate                          100  Idol of Majestie Divine, enclos'd  With Flaming Cherubim, and golden Shields;  Then lighted from his gorgeous Throne, for now  'Twixt Host and Host but narrow space was left,  A dreadful interval, and Front to Front  Presented stood in terrible array  Of hideous length: before the cloudie Van,  On the rough edge of battel ere it joyn'd,  Satan with vast and haughtie strides advanc't,  Came towring, armd in Adamant and Gold;                             110  Abdiel that sight endur'd not, where he stood  Among the mightiest, bent on highest deeds,  And thus his own undaunted heart explores.  O Heav'n! that such resemblance of the Highest  Should yet remain, where faith and realtie  Remain not; wherfore should not strength & might  There fail where Vertue fails, or weakest prove  Where boldest; though to sight unconquerable?  His puissance, trusting in th' Almightie's aide,  I mean to try, whose Reason I have tri'd                            120  Unsound and false; nor is it aught but just,  That he who in debate of Truth hath won,  Should win in Arms, in both disputes alike  Victor; though brutish that contest and foule,  When Reason hath to deal with force, yet so  Most reason is that Reason overcome.  So pondering, and from his armed Peers  Forth stepping opposite, half way he met  His daring foe, at this prevention more  Incens't, and thus securely him defi'd.                             130  Proud, art thou met? thy hope was to have reacht  The highth of thy aspiring unoppos'd,  The Throne of God unguarded, and his side  Abandond at the terror of thy Power  Or potent tongue; fool, not to think how vain  Against th' Omnipotent to rise in Arms;  Who out of smallest things could without end  Have rais'd incessant Armies to defeat  Thy folly; or with solitarie hand  Reaching beyond all limit, at one blow                              140  Unaided could have finisht thee, and whelmd  Thy Legions under darkness; but thou seest  All are not of thy Train; there be who Faith  Prefer, and Pietie to God, though then  To thee not visible, when I alone  Seemd in thy World erroneous to dissent  From all: my Sect thou seest, now learn too late  How few somtimes may know, when thousands err.  Whom the grand foe with scornful eye askance  Thus answerd. Ill for thee, but in wisht houre                      150  Of my revenge, first sought for thou returnst  From flight, seditious Angel, to receave  Thy merited reward, the first assay  Of this right hand provok't, since first that tongue  Inspir'd with contradiction durst oppose  A third part of the Gods, in Synod met  Thir Deities to assert, who while they feel  Vigour Divine within them, can allow  Omnipotence to none. But well thou comst  Before thy fellows, ambitious to win                                160  From me som Plume, that thy success may show  Destruction to the rest: this pause between  (Unanswerd least thou boast) to let thee know;  At first I thought that Libertie and Heav'n  To heav'nly Soules had bin all one; but now  I see that most through sloth had rather serve,  Ministring Spirits, traind up in Feast and Song;  Such hast thou arm'd, the Minstrelsie of Heav'n,  Servilitie with freedom to contend,  As both thir deeds compar'd this day shall prove.                   170  To whom in brief thus Abdiel stern repli'd.  Apostat, still thou errst, nor end wilt find  Of erring, from the path of truth remote:  Unjustly thou deprav'st it with the name  Of Servitude to serve whom God ordains,  Or Nature; God and Nature bid the same,  When he who rules is worthiest, and excells  Them whom he governs. This is servitude,  To serve th' unwise, or him who hath rebelld  Against his worthier, as thine now serve thee,                      180  Thy self not free, but to thy self enthrall'd;  Yet leudly dar'st our ministring upbraid.  Reign thou in Hell thy Kingdom, let mee serve  In Heav'n God ever blessed, and his Divine  Behests obey, worthiest to be obey'd,  Yet Chains in Hell, not Realms expect: mean while  From mee returnd, as erst thou saidst, from flight,  This greeting on thy impious Crest receive.
229s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

So saying, a noble stroke he lifted high,  Which hung not, but so swift with tempest fell                      190  On the proud Crest of Satan, that no sight,  Nor motion of swift thought, less could his Shield  Such ruin intercept: ten paces huge  He back recoild; the tenth on bended knee  His massie Spear upstaid; as if on Earth  Winds under ground or waters forcing way  Sidelong, had push't a Mountain from his seat  Half sunk with all his Pines. Amazement seis'd  The Rebel Thrones, but greater rage to see  Thus foil'd thir mightiest, ours joy filld, and shout,              200  Presage of Victorie and fierce desire  Of Battel: whereat Michael bid sound  Th' Arch-Angel trumpet; through the vast of Heav'n  It sounded, and the faithful Armies rung  Hosanna to the Highest: nor stood at gaze  The adverse Legions, nor less hideous joyn'd  The horrid shock: now storming furie rose,
218s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

And clamour such as heard in Heav'n till now  Was never, Arms on Armour clashing bray'd  Horrible discord, and the madding Wheeles                           210  Of brazen Chariots rag'd; dire was the noise  Of conflict; over head the dismal hiss  Of fiery Darts in flaming volies flew,  And flying vaulted either Host with fire.  So under fierie Cope together rush'd  Both Battels maine, with ruinous assault  And inextinguishable rage; all Heav'n  Resounded, and had Earth bin then, all Earth  Had to her Center shook. What wonder? when  Millions of fierce encountring Angels fought                        220  On either side, the least of whom could weild  These Elements, and arm him with the force  Of all thir Regions: how much more of Power  Armie against Armie numberless to raise  Dreadful combustion warring, and disturb,  Though not destroy, thir happie Native seat;  Had not th' Eternal King Omnipotent  From his strong hold of Heav'n high over-rul'd  And limited thir might; though numberd such  As each divided Legion might have seemd                             230  A numerous Host, in strength each armed hand  A Legion; led in fight, yet Leader seemd  Each Warriour single as in Chief, expert  When to advance, or stand, or turn the sway  Of Battel, open when, and when to close  The ridges of grim Warr; no thought of flight,  None of retreat, no unbecoming deed  That argu'd fear; each on himself reli'd,  As onely in his arm the moment lay  Of victorie; deeds of eternal fame                                  240  Were don, but infinite: for wide was spred  That Warr and various; somtimes on firm ground  A standing fight, then soaring on main wing  Tormented all the Air; all Air seemd then  Conflicting Fire: long time in eeven scale  The Battel hung; till Satan, who that day  Prodigious power had shewn, and met in Armes  No equal, raunging through the dire attack  Of fighting Seraphim confus'd, at length  Saw where the Sword of Michael smote, and fell'd                    250  Squadrons at once, with huge two-handed sway  Brandisht aloft the horrid edge came down  Wide wasting; such destruction to withstand  He hasted, and oppos'd the rockie Orb  Of tenfold Adamant, his ample Shield  A vast circumference: At his approach  The great Arch-Angel from his warlike toile  Surceas'd, and glad as hoping here to end  Intestine War in Heav'n, the arch foe subdu'd  Or Captive drag'd in Chains, with hostile frown                     260  And visage all enflam'd first thus began.  Author of evil, unknown till thy revolt,  Unnam'd in Heav'n, now plenteous, as thou seest  These Acts of hateful strife, hateful to all,  Though heaviest by just measure on thy self  And thy adherents: how hast thou disturb'd  Heav'ns blessed peace, and into Nature brought  Miserie, uncreated till the crime  Of thy Rebellion? how hast thou instill'd  Thy malice into thousands, once upright                             270  And faithful, now prov'd false. But think not here  To trouble Holy Rest; Heav'n casts thee out  From all her Confines. Heav'n the seat of bliss  Brooks not the works of violence and Warr.  Hence then, and evil go with thee along  Thy ofspring, to the place of evil, Hell,  Thou and thy wicked crew; there mingle broiles,  Ere this avenging Sword begin thy doome,  Or som more sudden vengeance wing'd from God  Precipitate thee with augmented paine.                              280  So spake the Prince of Angels; to whom thus  The Adversarie. Nor think thou with wind  Of airie threats to aw whom yet with deeds  Thou canst not. Hast thou turnd the least of these  To flight, or if to fall, but that they rise  Unvanquisht, easier to transact with mee  That thou shouldst hope, imperious, & with threats  To chase me hence? erre not that so shall end  The strife which thou call'st evil, but wee style  The strife of Glorie: which we mean to win,                         290  Or turn this Heav'n it self into the Hell  Thou fablest, here however to dwell free,  If not to reign: mean while thy utmost force,  And join him nam'd Almightie to thy aid,  I flie not, but have sought thee farr and nigh.  They ended parle, and both addrest for fight  Unspeakable; for who, though with the tongue  Of Angels, can relate, or to what things  Liken on Earth conspicuous, that may lift  Human imagination to such highth                                    300  Of Godlike Power: for likest Gods they seemd,  Stood they or mov'd, in stature, motion, arms  Fit to decide the Empire of great Heav'n.  Now wav'd thir fierie Swords, and in the Aire  Made horrid Circles; two broad Suns thir Shields  Blaz'd opposite, while expectation stood  In horror; from each hand with speed retir'd  Where erst was thickest fight, th' Angelic throng,  And left large field, unsafe within the wind  Of such commotion, such as to set forth                             310  Great things by small, If Natures concord broke,  Among the Constellations warr were sprung,  Two Planets rushing from aspect maligne  Of fiercest opposition in mid Skie,  Should combat, and thir jarring Sphears confound.  Together both with next to Almightie Arme,  Uplifted imminent one stroke they aim'd  That might determine, and not need repeate,  As not of power, at once; nor odds appeerd  In might or swift prevention; but the sword                         320  Of Michael from the Armorie of God  Was giv'n him temperd so, that neither keen  Nor solid might resist that edge: it met  The sword of Satan with steep force to smite  Descending, and in half cut sheere, nor staid,  But with swift wheele reverse, deep entring shar'd  All his right side; then Satan first knew pain,
251s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

And writh'd him to and fro convolv'd; so sore  The griding sword with discontinuous wound  Pass'd through him, but th' Ethereal substance clos'd               330  Not long divisible, and from the gash  A stream of Nectarous humor issuing flow'd  Sanguin, such as Celestial Spirits may bleed,  And all his Armour staind ere while so bright.  Forthwith on all sides to his aide was run  By Angels many and strong, who interpos'd  Defence, while others bore him on thir Shields  Back to his Chariot; where it stood retir'd  From off the files of warr; there they him laid  Gnashing for anguish and despite and shame                          340  To find himself not matchless, and his pride  Humbl'd by such rebuke, so farr beneath  His confidence to equal God in power.  Yet soon he heal'd; for Spirits that live throughout  Vital in every part, not as frail man  In Entrailes, Heart or Head, Liver or Reines,  Cannot but by annihilating die;  Nor in thir liquid texture mortal wound  Receive, no more then can the fluid Aire:  All Heart they live, all Head, all Eye, all Eare,                   350  All Intellect, all Sense, and as they please,  They Limb themselves, and colour, shape or size  Assume, as likes them best, condense or rare.  Mean while in other parts like deeds deservd  Memorial, where the might of Gabriel fought,  And with fierce Ensignes pierc'd the deep array  Of Moloc furious King, who him defi'd,  And at his Chariot wheeles to drag him bound  Threatn'd, nor from the Holie One of Heav'n  Refrein'd his tongue blasphemous; but anon                          360  Down clov'n to the waste, with shatterd Armes  And uncouth paine fled bellowing. On each wing  Uriel and Raphael his vaunting foe,  Though huge, and in a Rock of Diamond Armd,  Vanquish'd Adramelec, and Asmadai,  Two potent Thrones, that to be less then Gods  Disdain'd, but meaner thoughts learnd in thir flight,  Mangl'd with gastly wounds through Plate and Maile.  Nor stood unmindful Abdiel to annoy  The Atheist crew, but with redoubl'd blow                           370  Ariel and Arioc, and the violence  Of Ramiel scorcht and blasted overthrew.  I might relate of thousands, and thir names  Eternize here on Earth; but those elect  Angels contented with thir fame in Heav'n  Seek not the praise of men: the other sort  In might though wondrous and in Acts of Warr,  Nor of Renown less eager, yet by doome  Canceld from Heav'n and sacred memorie,  Nameless in dark oblivion let them dwell.                           380  For strength from Truth divided and from Just,  Illaudable, naught merits but dispraise  And ignominie, yet to glorie aspires  Vain glorious, and through infamie seeks fame:  Therfore Eternal silence be thir doome.  And now thir mightiest quelld, the battel swerv'd,  With many an inrode gor'd; deformed rout  Enter'd, and foul disorder; all the ground  With shiverd armour strow'n, and on a heap  Chariot and Charioter lay overturnd                                 390  And fierie foaming Steeds; what stood, recoyld  Orewearied, through the faint Satanic Host  Defensive scarse, or with pale fear surpris'd,  Then first with fear surpris'd and sense of paine  Fled ignominious, to such evil brought  By sinne of disobedience, till that hour  Not liable to fear or flight or paine.  Far otherwise th' inviolable Saints  In Cubic Phalanx firm advanc't entire,  Invulnerable, impenitrably arm'd:                                   400  Such high advantages thir innocence  Gave them above thir foes, not to have sinnd,  Not to have disobei'd; in fight they stood  Unwearied, unobnoxious to be pain'd  By wound, though from thir place by violence mov'd.  Now Night her course began, and over Heav'n  Inducing darkness, grateful truce impos'd,
261s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

And silence on the odious dinn of Warr:  Under her Cloudie covert both retir'd,  Victor and Vanquisht: on the foughten field                         410  Michael and his Angels prevalent  Encamping, plac'd in Guard thir Watches round,
262s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

Cherubic waving fires: on th' other part  Satan with his rebellious disappeerd,  Far in the dark dislodg'd, and void of rest,  His Potentates to Councel call'd by night;  And in the midst thus undismai'd began.  O now in danger tri'd, now known in Armes  Not to be overpowerd, Companions deare,  Found worthy not of Libertie alone,                                 420  Too mean pretense, but what we more affect,  Honour, Dominion, Glorie, and renowne,  Who have sustaind one day in doubtful fight,  (And if one day, why not Eternal dayes?)  What Heavens Lord had powerfullest to send  Against us from about his Throne, and judg'd  Sufficient to subdue us to his will,  But proves not so: then fallible, it seems,  Of future we may deem him, though till now  Omniscient thought. True is, less firmly arm'd,                     430  Some disadvantage we endur'd and paine,  Till now not known, but known as soon contemnd,  Since now we find this our Empyreal forme  Incapable of mortal injurie  Imperishable, and though peirc'd with wound,  Soon closing, and by native vigour heal'd.  Of evil then so small as easie think  The remedie; perhaps more valid Armes,  Weapons more violent, when next we meet,  May serve to better us, and worse our foes,                         440  Or equal what between us made the odds,  In Nature none: if other hidden cause  Left them Superiour, while we can preserve  Unhurt our mindes, and understanding sound,  Due search and consultation will disclose.  He sat; and in th' assembly next upstood  Nisroc, of Principalities the prime;  As one he stood escap't from cruel fight,  Sore toild, his riv'n Armes to havoc hewn,  And cloudie in aspect thus answering spake.                         450  Deliverer from new Lords, leader to free  Enjoyment of our right as Gods; yet hard  For Gods, and too unequal work we find  Against unequal armes to fight in paine,  Against unpaind, impassive; from which evil  Ruin must needs ensue; for what availes  Valour or strength, though matchless, quelld with pain  Which all subdues, and makes remiss the hands  Of Mightiest. Sense of pleasure we may well  Spare out of life perhaps, and not repine,                          460  But live content, which is the calmest life:  But pain is perfet miserie, the worst  Of evils, and excessive, overturnes  All patience. He who therefore can invent  With what more forcible we may offend  Our yet unwounded Enemies, or arme  Our selves with like defence, to mee deserves  No less then for deliverance what we owe.  Whereto with look compos'd Satan repli'd.  Not uninvented that, which thou aright                              470  Beleivst so main to our success, I bring;  Which of us who beholds the bright surface  Of this Ethereous mould whereon we stand,  This continent of spacious Heav'n, adornd  With Plant, Fruit, Flour Ambrosial, Gemms & Gold,  Whose Eye so superficially surveyes  These things, as not to mind from whence they grow  Deep under ground, materials dark and crude,  Of spiritous and fierie spume, till toucht  With Heav'ns ray, and temperd they shoot forth                      480  So beauteous, op'ning to the ambient light.  These in thir dark Nativitie the Deep  Shall yeild us, pregnant with infernal flame,  Which into hallow Engins long and round  Thick-rammd, at th' other bore with touch of fire  Dilated and infuriate shall send forth  From far with thundring noise among our foes  Such implements of mischief as shall dash  To pieces, and orewhelm whatever stands  Adverse, that they shall fear we have disarmd                       490  The Thunderer of his only dreaded bolt.  Nor long shall be our labour, yet ere dawne,  Effect shall end our wish. Mean while revive;  Abandon fear; to strength and counsel joind  Think nothing hard, much less to be despaird.  He ended, and his words thir drooping chere  Enlightn'd, and thir languisht hope reviv'd.  Th' invention all admir'd, and each, how hee  To be th' inventer miss'd, so easie it seemd  Once found, which yet unfound most would have thought               500  Impossible: yet haply of thy Race  In future dayes, if Malice should abound,  Some one intent on mischief, or inspir'd  With dev'lish machination might devise  Like instrument to plague the Sons of men  For sin, on warr and mutual slaughter bent.  Forthwith from Councel to the work they flew,  None arguing stood, innumerable hands  Were ready, in a moment up they turnd  Wide the Celestial soile, and saw beneath                           510  Th' originals of Nature in thir crude  Conception; Sulphurous and Nitrous Foame  They found, they mingl'd, and with suttle Art,  Concocted and adusted they reduc'd  To blackest grain, and into store conveyd:  Part hidd'n veins diggd up (nor hath this Earth  Entrails unlike) of Mineral and Stone,  Whereof to found thir Engins and thir Balls  Of missive ruin; part incentive reed  Provide, pernicious with one touch to fire.                         520  So all ere day spring, under conscious Night  Secret they finish'd, and in order set,  With silent circumspection unespi'd.  Now when fair Morn Orient in Heav'n appeerd  Up rose the Victor Angels, and to Arms  The matin Trumpet Sung: in Arms they stood  Of Golden Panoplie, refulgent Host,  Soon banded; others from the dawning Hills  Lookd round, and Scouts each Coast light-armed scoure,  Each quarter, to descrie the distant foe,                           530  Where lodg'd, or whither fled, or if for fight,  In motion or in alt: him soon they met  Under spred Ensignes moving nigh, in slow  But firm Battalion; back with speediest Sail  Zephiel, of Cherubim the swiftest wing,  Came flying, and in mid Aire aloud thus cri'd.  Arme, Warriours, Arme for fight, the foe at hand,  Whom fled we thought, will save us long pursuit  This day, fear not his flight; so thick a Cloud  He comes, and settl'd in his face I see                             540  Sad resolution and secure: let each  His Adamantine coat gird well, and each  Fit well his Helme, gripe fast his orbed Shield,  Born eevn or high, for this day will pour down,  If I conjecture aught, no drizling showr,  But ratling storm of Arrows barbd with fire.  So warnd he them aware themselves, and soon  In order, quit of all impediment;  Instant without disturb they took Allarm,  And onward move Embattelld; when behold                             550  Not distant far with heavie pace the Foe  Approaching gross and huge; in hollow Cube  Training his devilish Enginrie, impal'd  On every side with shaddowing Squadrons Deep,  To hide the fraud. At interview both stood  A while, but suddenly at head appeerd  Satan: And thus was heard Commanding loud.  Vangard, to Right and Left the Front unfould;  That all may see who hate us, how we seek  Peace and composure, and with open brest                            560  Stand readie to receive them, if they like  Our overture, and turn not back perverse;  But that I doubt, however witness Heaven,  Heav'n witness thou anon, while we discharge  Freely our part: yee who appointed stand  Do as you have in charge, and briefly touch  What we propound, and loud that all may hear.  So scoffing in ambiguous words, he scarce  Had ended; when to Right and Left the Front  Divided, and to either Flank retir'd.                               570  Which to our eyes discoverd new and strange,  A triple-mounted row of Pillars laid  On Wheels (for like to Pillars most they seem'd  Or hollow'd bodies made of Oak or Firr  With branches lopt, in Wood or Mountain fell'd)  Brass, Iron, Stonie mould, had not thir mouthes  With hideous orifice gap't on us wide,  Portending hollow truce; at each behind  A Seraph stood, and in his hand a Reed  Stood waving tipt with fire; while we suspense,                     580  Collected stood within our thoughts amus'd,  Not long, for sudden all at once thir Reeds  Put forth, and to a narrow vent appli'd  With nicest touch. Immediate in a flame,  But soon obscur'd with smoak, all Heav'n appeerd,  From those deep-throated Engins belcht, whose roar  Emboweld with outragious noise the Air,  And all her entrails tore, disgorging foule  Thir devillish glut, chaind Thunderbolts and Hail  Of Iron Globes, which on the Victor Host                            590  Level'd, with such impetuous furie smote,  That whom they hit, none on thir feet might stand,  Though standing else as Rocks, but down they fell  By thousands, Angel on Arch-Angel rowl'd;  The sooner for thir Arms, unarm'd they might  Have easily as Spirits evaded swift  By quick contraction or remove; but now  Foule dissipation follow'd and forc't rout;  Nor serv'd it to relax thir serried files.  What should they do? if on they rusht, repulse                      600  Repeated, and indecent overthrow  Doubl'd, would render them yet more despis'd,  And to thir foes a laughter; for in view  Stood rankt of Seraphim another row  In posture to displode thir second tire  Of Thunder: back defeated to return  They worse abhorr'd. Satan beheld thir plight,  And to his Mates thus in derision call'd.  O Friends, why come not on these Victors proud?  Ere while they fierce were coming, and when wee,                    610  To entertain them fair with open Front  And Brest, (what could we more?) propounded terms  Of composition, strait they chang'd thir minds,  Flew off, and into strange vagaries fell,  As they would dance, yet for a dance they seemd  Somwhat extravagant and wilde, perhaps  For joy of offerd peace: but I suppose  If our proposals once again were heard  We should compel them to a quick result.  To whom thus Belial in like gamesom mood.                           620  Leader, the terms we sent were terms of weight,  Of hard contents, and full of force urg'd home,  Such as we might perceive amus'd them all,  And stumbl'd many, who receives them right,  Had need from head to foot well understand;  Not understood, this gift they have besides,  They shew us when our foes walk not upright.  So they among themselves in pleasant veine  Stood scoffing, highthn'd in thir thoughts beyond  All doubt of Victorie, eternal might                                630  To match with thir inventions they presum'd  So easie, and of his Thunder made a scorn,  And all his Host derided, while they stood  A while in trouble; but they stood not long,  Rage prompted them at length, & found them arms  Against such hellish mischief fit to oppose.  Forthwith (behold the excellence, the power  Which God hath in his mighty Angels plac'd)  Thir Arms away they threw, and to the Hills  (For Earth hath this variety from Heav'n                            640  Of pleasure situate in Hill and Dale)  Light as the Lightning glimps they ran, they flew,  From thir foundations loosning to and fro  They pluckt the seated Hills with all thir load,  Rocks, Waters, Woods, and by the shaggie tops  Up lifting bore them in thir hands: Amaze,  Be sure, and terrour seis'd the rebel Host,  When coming towards them so dread they saw  The bottom of the Mountains upward turn'd,  Till on those cursed Engins triple-row                              650  They saw them whelmd, and all thir confidence  Under the weight of Mountains buried deep,  Themselves invaded next, and on thir heads  Main Promontories flung, which in the Air  Came shadowing, and opprest whole Legions arm'd,  Thir armor help'd thir harm, crush't in and brus'd  Into thir substance pent, which wrought them pain  Implacable, and many a dolorous groan,  Long strugling underneath, ere they could wind  Out of such prison, though Spirits of purest light,                 660  Purest at first, now gross by sinning grown.  The rest in imitation to like Armes  Betook them, and the neighbouring Hills uptore;  So Hills amid the Air encounterd Hills  Hurl'd to and fro with jaculation dire,  That under ground they fought in dismal shade;  Infernal noise; Warr seem'd a civil Game  To this uproar; horrid confusion heapt  Upon confusion rose: and now all Heav'n  Had gone to wrack, with ruin overspred,                             670  Had not th' Almightie Father where he sits  Shrin'd in his Sanctuarie of Heav'n secure,  Consulting on the sum of things, foreseen  This tumult, and permitted all, advis'd:  That his great purpose he might so fulfill,  To honour his Anointed Son aveng'd  Upon his enemies, and to declare  All power on him transferr'd: whence to his Son  Th' Assessor of his Throne he thus began.  Effulgence of my Glorie, Son belov'd,                               680  Son in whose face invisible is beheld  Visibly, what by Deitie I am,  And in whose hand what by Decree I doe,  Second Omnipotence, two dayes are past,  Two dayes, as we compute the dayes of Heav'n,  Since Michael and his Powers went forth to tame  These disobedient; sore hath been thir fight,  As likeliest was, when two such Foes met arm'd;  For to themselves I left them, and thou knowst,  Equal in their Creation they were form'd,                           690  Save what sin hath impaird, which yet hath wrought  Insensibly, for I suspend thir doom;  Whence in perpetual fight they needs must last  Endless, and no solution will be found:  Warr wearied hath perform'd what Warr can do,  And to disorder'd rage let loose the reines,  With Mountains as with Weapons arm'd, which makes  Wild work in Heav'n, and dangerous to the maine.  Two dayes are therefore past, the third is thine;  For thee I have ordain'd it, and thus farr                          700  Have sufferd, that the Glorie may be thine  Of ending this great Warr, since none but Thou  Can end it. Into thee such Vertue and Grace  Immense I have transfus'd, that all may know  In Heav'n and Hell thy Power above compare,  And this perverse Commotion governd thus,  To manifest thee worthiest to be Heir  Of all things, to be Heir and to be King  By Sacred Unction, thy deserved right.  Go then thou Mightiest in thy Fathers might,                        710  Ascend my Chariot, guide the rapid Wheeles  That shake Heav'ns basis, bring forth all my Warr,  My Bow and Thunder, my Almightie Arms  Gird on, and Sword upon thy puissant Thigh;  Pursue these sons of Darkness, drive them out  From all Heav'ns bounds into the utter Deep:  There let them learn, as likes them, to despise  God and Messiah his anointed King.  He said, and on his Son with Rayes direct  Shon full, he all his Father full exprest                           720  Ineffably into his face receiv'd,  And thus the filial Godhead answering spake.  O Father, O Supream of heav'nly Thrones,  First, Highest, Holiest, Best, thou alwayes seekst  To glorifie thy Son, I alwayes thee,  As is most just; this I my Glorie account,  My exaltation, and my whole delight,  That thou in me well pleas'd, declarst thy will  Fulfill'd, which to fulfil is all my bliss.  Scepter and Power, thy giving, I assume,                            730  And gladlier shall resign, when in the end  Thou shalt be All in All, and I in thee  For ever, and in mee all whom thou lov'st:  But whom thou hat'st, I hate, and can put on  Thy terrors, as I put thy mildness on,  Image of thee in all things; and shall soon,  Armd with thy might, rid heav'n of these rebell'd,  To thir prepar'd ill Mansion driven down  To chains of Darkness, and th' undying Worm,  That from thy just obedience could revolt,                          740  Whom to obey is happiness entire.  Then shall thy Saints unmixt, and from th' impure  Farr separate, circling thy holy Mount  Unfained Halleluiahs to thee sing,  Hymns of high praise, and I among them chief.  So said, he o're his Scepter bowing, rose  From the right hand of Glorie where he sate,  And the third sacred Morn began to shine  Dawning through Heav'n: forth rush'd with whirlwind sound  The Chariot of Paternal Deitie,                                     750  Flashing thick flames, Wheele within Wheele undrawn,  It self instinct with Spirit, but convoyd  By four Cherubic shapes, four Faces each  Had wondrous, as with Starrs thir bodies all  And Wings were set with Eyes, with Eyes the Wheels  Of Beril, and careering Fires between;  Over thir heads a chrystal Firmament,  Whereon a Saphir Throne, inlaid with pure  Amber, and colours of the showrie Arch.  Hee in Celestial Panoplie all armd                                  760  Of radiant Urim, work divinely wrought,  Ascended, at his right hand Victorie  Sate Eagle-wing'd, beside him hung his Bow  And Quiver with three-bolted Thunder stor'd,  And from about him fierce Effusion rowld  Of smoak and bickering flame, and sparkles dire;  Attended with ten thousand thousand Saints,  He onward came, farr off his coming shon,  And twentie thousand (I thir number heard)  Chariots of God, half on each hand were seen:                       770  Hee on the wings of Cherub rode sublime  On the Crystallin Skie, in Saphir Thron'd.  Illustrious farr and wide, but by his own  First seen, them unexpected joy surpriz'd,  When the great Ensign of Messiah blaz'd  Aloft by Angels born, his Sign in Heav'n:  Under whose Conduct Michael soon reduc'd  His Armie, circumfus'd on either Wing,  Under thir Head imbodied all in one.  Before him Power Divine his way prepar'd;                           780  At his command the uprooted Hills retir'd  Each to his place, they heard his voice and went  Obsequious, Heav'n his wonted face renewd,  And with fresh Flourets Hill and Valley smil'd.  This saw his hapless Foes, but stood obdur'd,  And to rebellious fight rallied thir Powers  Insensate, hope conceiving from despair.  In heav'nly Spirits could such perverseness dwell?  But to convince the proud what Signs availe,  Or Wonders move th' obdurate to relent?                             790  They hard'nd more by what might most reclame,  Grieving to see his Glorie, at the sight  Took envie, and aspiring to his highth,  Stood reimbattell'd fierce, by force or fraud  Weening to prosper, and at length prevaile  Against God and Messiah, or to fall  In universal ruin last, and now  To final Battel drew, disdaining flight,  Or faint retreat; when the great Son of God  To all his Host on either hand thus spake.                          800  Stand still in bright array ye Saints, here stand  Ye Angels arm'd, this day from Battel rest;  Faithful hath been your Warfare, and of God  Accepted, fearless in his righteous Cause,  And as ye have receivd, so have ye don  Invincibly; but of this cursed crew  The punishment to other hand belongs,  Vengeance is his, or whose he sole appoints;  Number to this dayes work is not ordain'd  Nor multitude, stand onely and behold                               810  Gods indignation on these Godless pourd  By mee; not you but mee they have despis'd,  Yet envied; against mee is all thir rage,  Because the Father, t' whom in Heav'n supream  Kingdom and Power and Glorie appertains,  Hath honourd me according to his will.  Therefore to mee thir doom he hath assig'n'd;  That they may have thir wish, to trie with mee  In Battel which the stronger proves, they all,  Or I alone against them, since by strength                          820  They measure all, of other excellence  Not emulous, nor care who them excells;  Nor other strife with them do I voutsafe.  So spake the Son, and into terrour chang'd  His count'nance too severe to be beheld  And full of wrauth bent on his Enemies.  At once the Four spred out thir Starrie wings  With dreadful shade contiguous, and the Orbes  Of his fierce Chariot rowld, as with the sound  Of torrent Floods, or of a numerous Host.                           830  Hee on his impious Foes right onward drove,  Gloomie as Night; under his burning Wheeles  The stedfast Empyrean shook throughout,  All but the Throne it self of God. Full soon  Among them he arriv'd; in his right hand  Grasping ten thousand Thunders, which he sent  Before him, such as in thir Soules infix'd  Plagues; they astonisht all resistance lost,  All courage; down thir idle weapons drop'd;  O're Shields and Helmes, and helmed heads he rode                   840  Of Thrones and mighty Seraphim prostrate,  That wish'd the Mountains now might be again  Thrown on them as a shelter from his ire.  Nor less on either side tempestuous fell  His arrows, from the fourfold-visag'd Foure,  Distinct with eyes, and from the living Wheels,  Distinct alike with multitude of eyes,  One Spirit in them rul'd, and every eye  Glar'd lightning, and shot forth pernicious fire  Among th' accurst, that witherd all thir strength,                  850  And of thir wonted vigour left them draind,  Exhausted, spiritless, afflicted, fall'n.  Yet half his strength he put not forth, but check'd  His Thunder in mid Volie, for he meant  Not to destroy, but root them out of Heav'n:  The overthrown he rais'd, and as a Heard  Of Goats or timerous flock together throngd  Drove them before him Thunder-struck, pursu'd  With terrors and with furies to the bounds  And Chrystall wall of Heav'n, which op'ning wide,                   860  Rowld inward, and a spacious Gap disclos'd  Into the wastful Deep; the monstrous sight  Strook them with horror backward, but far worse  Urg'd them behind; headlong themselvs they threw  Down from the verge of Heav'n, Eternal wrauth  Burnt after them to the bottomless pit.  Hell heard th' unsufferable noise, Hell saw  Heav'n ruining from Heav'n and would have fled  Affrighted; but strict Fate had cast too deep  Her dark foundations, and too fast had bound.                       870  Nine dayes they fell; confounded Chaos roard,
239s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

And felt tenfold confusion in thir fall  Through his wilde Anarchie, so huge a rout  Incumberd him with ruin: Hell at last  Yawning receavd them whole, and on them clos'd,
240s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

Hell thir fit habitation fraught with fire  Unquenchable, the house of woe and paine.  Disburd'nd Heav'n rejoic'd, and soon repaird  Her mural breach, returning whence it rowld.  Sole Victor from th' expulsion of his Foes                          880  Messiah his triumphal Chariot turnd:  To meet him all his Saints, who silent stood  Eye witnesses of his Almightie Acts,  With Jubilie advanc'd; and as they went,  Shaded with branching Palme, each order bright,  Sung Triumph, and him sung Victorious King,  Son, Heire, and Lord, to him Dominion giv'n,  Worthiest to Reign: he celebrated rode  Triumphant through mid Heav'n, into the Courts  And Temple of his mightie Father Thron'd                            890  On high; who into Glorie him receav'd,  Where now he sits at the right hand of bliss.  Thus measuring things in Heav'n by things on Earth  At thy request, and that thou maist beware  By what is past, to thee I have reveal'd  What might have else to human Race bin hid;  The discord which befel, and Warr in Heav'n  Among th' Angelic Powers, and the deep fall  Of those too high aspiring, who rebelld  With Satan, hee who envies now thy state,                           900  Who now is plotting how he may seduce  Thee also from obedience, that with him  Bereavd of happiness thou maist partake  His punishment, Eternal miserie;  Which would be all his solace and revenge,  As a despite don against the most High,  Thee once to gaine Companion of his woe.  But list'n not to his Temptations, warne  Thy weaker; let it profit thee to have heard  By terrible Example the reward                                      910  Of disobedience; firm they might have stood,  Yet fell; remember, and fear to transgress.  The End Of The Sixth Book.





BOOK VII.

THE ARGUMENT.

Raphael at the request of Adam relates how and wherefore thisworld was first created; that God, after the expelling of Satanand his Angels out of Heaven, declar'd his pleasure to createanother World and other Creatures to dwell therein; sends his Sonwith Glory and attendance of Angels to perform the work ofCreation in six dayes: the Angels celebrate with Hymns theperformance thereof, and his reascention into Heaven.

Descend from Heav'n Urania, by that name  If rightly thou art call'd, whose Voice divine  Following, above th' Olympian Hill I soare,  Above the flight of Pegasean wing.  The meaning, not the Name I call: for thou  Nor of the Muses nine, nor on the top  Of old Olympus dwell'st, but Heav'nlie borne,  Before the Hills appeerd, or Fountain flow'd,  Thou with Eternal wisdom didst converse,  Wisdom thy Sister, and with her didst play                           10  In presence of th' Almightie Father, pleas'd  With thy Celestial Song. Up led by thee  Into the Heav'n of Heav'ns I have presum'd,  An Earthlie Guest, and drawn Empyreal Aire,  Thy tempring; with like safetie guided down  Return me to my Native Element:  Least from this flying Steed unrein'd, (as once  Bellerophon, though from a lower Clime)  Dismounted, on th' Aleian Field I fall  Erroneous, there to wander and forlorne.                             20  Half yet remaines unsung, but narrower bound  Within the visible Diurnal Spheare;  Standing on Earth, not rapt above the Pole,  More safe I Sing with mortal voice, unchang'd  To hoarce or mute, though fall'n on evil dayes,  On evil dayes though fall'n, and evil tongues;  In darkness, and with dangers compast round,  And solitude; yet not alone, while thou  Visit'st my slumbers Nightly, or when Morn  Purples the East: still govern thou my Song,                         30  Urania, and fit audience find, though few.  But drive farr off the barbarous dissonance  Of Bacchus and his Revellers, the Race  Of that wilde Rout that tore the Thracian Bard  In Rhodope, where Woods and Rocks had Eares  To rapture, till the savage clamor dround  Both Harp and Voice; nor could the Muse defend  Her Son. So fail not thou, who thee implores:  For thou art Heav'nlie, shee an empty dreame.  Say Goddess, what ensu'd when Raphael,                               40  The affable Arch-angel, had forewarn'd  Adam by dire example to beware  Apostasie, by what befell in Heaven  To those Apostates, least the like befall  In Paradise to Adam or his Race,  Charg'd not to touch the interdicted Tree,  If they transgress, and slight that sole command,  So easily obeyd amid the choice  Of all tasts else to please thir appetite,  Though wandring. He with his consorted Eve                           50  The storie heard attentive, and was fill'd  With admiration, and deep Muse to heare  Of things so high and strange, things to thir thought  So unimaginable as hate in Heav'n,  And Warr so neer the Peace of God in bliss  With such confusion: but the evil soon  Driv'n back redounded as a flood on those  From whom it sprung, impossible to mix  With Blessedness. Whence Adam soon repeal'd  The doubts that in his heart arose: and now                          60  Led on, yet sinless, with desire to know  What neerer might concern him, how this World  Of Heav'n and Earth conspicuous first began,  When, and whereof created, for what cause,  What within Eden or without was done  Before his memorie, as one whose drouth  Yet scarce allay'd still eyes the current streame,  Whose liquid murmur heard new thirst excites,  Proceeded thus to ask his Heav'nly Guest.  Great things, and full of wonder in our eares,                       70  Farr differing from this World, thou hast reveal'd  Divine Interpreter, by favour sent  Down from the Empyrean to forewarne  Us timely of what might else have bin our loss,  Unknown, which human knowledg could not reach:  For which to the infinitly Good we owe  Immortal thanks, and his admonishment  Receave with solemne purpose to observe  Immutably his sovran will, the end  Of what we are. But since thou hast voutsaf't                        80  Gently for our instruction to impart  Things above Earthly thought, which yet concernd  Our knowing, as to highest wisdom seemd,  Deign to descend now lower, and relate  What may no less perhaps availe us known,  How first began this Heav'n which we behold  Distant so high, with moving Fires adornd  Innumerable, and this which yeelds or fills  All space, the ambient Aire wide interfus'd  Imbracing round this florid Earth, what cause                        90  Mov'd the Creator in his holy Rest  Through all Eternitie so late to build  In Chaos, and the work begun, how soon  Absolv'd, if unforbid thou maist unfould  What wee, not to explore the secrets aske  Of his Eternal Empire, but the more  To magnifie his works, the more we know.  And the great Light of Day yet wants to run  Much of his Race though steep, suspens in Heav'n  Held by thy voice, thy potent voice he heares,                      100  And longer will delay to heare thee tell  His Generation, and the rising Birth  Of Nature from the unapparent Deep:  Or if the Starr of Eevning and the Moon  Haste to thy audience, Night with her will bring  Silence, and Sleep listning to thee will watch,  Or we can bid his absence, till thy Song  End, and dismiss thee ere the Morning shine.  Thus Adam his illustrous Guest besought:  And thus the Godlike Angel answerd milde.                           110  This also thy request with caution askt  Obtaine: though to recount Almightie works  What words or tongue of Seraph can suffice,  Or heart of man suffice to comprehend?  Yet what thou canst attain, which best may serve  To glorifie the Maker, and inferr  Thee also happier, shall not be withheld  Thy hearing, such Commission from above  I have receav'd, to answer thy desire  Of knowledge within bounds; beyond abstain                          120  To ask, nor let thine own inventions hope  Things not reveal'd, which th' invisible King,  Onely Omniscient, hath supprest in Night,  To none communicable in Earth or Heaven:  Anough is left besides to search and know.  But Knowledge is as food, and needs no less  Her Temperance over Appetite, to know  In measure what the mind may well contain,  Oppresses else with Surfet, and soon turns  Wisdom to Folly, as Nourishment to Winde.                           130  Know then, that after Lucifer from Heav'n  (So call him, brighter once amidst the Host  Of Angels, then that Starr the Starrs among)  Fell with his flaming Legions through the Deep  Into his place, and the great Son returnd  Victorious with his Saints, th' Omnipotent  Eternal Father from his Throne beheld  Thir multitude, and to his Son thus spake.  At least our envious Foe hath fail'd, who thought  All like himself rebellious, by whose aid                           140  This inaccessible high strength, the seat  Of Deitie supream, us dispossest,  He trusted to have seis'd, and into fraud  Drew many, whom thir place knows here no more;  Yet farr the greater part have kept, I see,  Thir station, Heav'n yet populous retaines  Number sufficient to possess her Realmes  Though wide, and this high Temple to frequent  With Ministeries due and solemn Rites:  But least his heart exalt him in the harme                          150  Already done, to have dispeopl'd Heav'n,  My damage fondly deem'd, I can repaire  That detriment, if such it be to lose  Self-lost, and in a moment will create  Another World, out of one man a Race  Of men innumerable, there to dwell,  Not here, till by degrees of merit rais'd  They open to themselves at length the way  Up hither, under long obedience tri'd,  And Earth be chang'd to Heavn, & Heav'n to Earth,                   160  One Kingdom, Joy and Union without end.  Mean while inhabit laxe, ye Powers of Heav'n,  And thou my Word, begotten Son, by thee  This I perform, speak thou, and be it don:  My overshadowing Spirit and might with thee  I send along, ride forth, and bid the Deep  Within appointed bounds be Heav'n and Earth,  Boundless the Deep, because I am who fill  Infinitude, nor vacuous the space.  Though I uncircumscrib'd my self retire,                            170  And put not forth my goodness, which is free  To act or not, Necessitie and Chance  Approach not mee, and what I will is Fate.  So spake th' Almightie, and to what he spake  His Word, the Filial Godhead, gave effect.  Immediate are the Acts of God, more swift  Then time or motion, but to human ears  Cannot without process of speech be told,  So told as earthly notion can receave.  Great triumph and rejoycing was in Heav'n                           180  When such was heard declar'd the Almightie's will;  Glorie they sung to the most High, good will  To future men, and in thir dwellings peace:  Glorie to him whose just avenging ire  Had driven out th' ungodly from his sight  And th' habitations of the just; to him  Glorie and praise, whose wisdom had ordain'd  Good out of evil to create, in stead  Of Spirits maligne a better Race to bring  Into thir vacant room, and thence diffuse                           190  His good to Worlds and Ages infinite.  So sang the Hierarchies: Mean while the Son  On his great Expedition now appeer'd,  Girt with Omnipotence, with Radiance crown'd  Of Majestie Divine, Sapience and Love  Immense, and all his Father in him shon.  About his Chariot numberless were pour'd  Cherub and Seraph, Potentates and Thrones,  And Vertues, winged Spirits, and Chariots wing'd,  From the Armoury of God, where stand of old                         200  Myriads between two brazen Mountains lodg'd  Against a solemn day, harnest at hand,  Celestial Equipage; and now came forth  Spontaneous, for within them Spirit livd,  Attendant on thir Lord: Heav'n op'nd wide  Her ever during Gates, Harmonious sound  On golden Hinges moving, to let forth  The King of Glorie in his powerful Word  And Spirit coming to create new Worlds.  On heav'nly ground they stood, and from the shore                   210  They view'd the vast immeasurable Abyss  Outrageous as a Sea, dark, wasteful, wilde,  Up from the bottom turn'd by furious windes  And surging waves, as Mountains to assault  Heav'ns highth, and with the Center mix the Pole.  Silence, ye troubl'd waves, and thou Deep, peace,  Said then th' Omnific Word, your discord end:  Nor staid, but on the Wings of Cherubim  Uplifted, in Paternal Glorie rode  Farr into Chaos, and the World unborn;                              220  For Chaos heard his voice: him all his Traine  Follow'd in bright procession to behold  Creation, and the wonders of his might.  Then staid the fervid Wheeles, and in his hand  He took the golden Compasses, prepar'd  In Gods Eternal store, to circumscribe  This Universe, and all created things:  One foot he center'd, and the other turn'd  Round through the vast profunditie obscure,  And said, thus farr extend, thus farr thy bounds,                   230  This be thy just Circumference, O World.  Thus God the Heav'n created, thus the Earth,  Matter unform'd and void: Darkness profound  Cover'd th' Abyss: but on the watrie calme  His brooding wings the Spirit of God outspred,  And vital vertue infus'd, and vital warmth  Throughout the fluid Mass, but downward purg'd  The black tartareous cold infernal dregs  Adverse to life: then founded, then conglob'd  Like things to like, the rest to several place                      240  Disparted, and between spun out the Air,  And Earth self-ballanc't on her Center hung.  Let ther be Light, said God, and forthwith Light  Ethereal, first of things, quintessence pure  Sprung from the Deep, and from her Native East  To journie through the airie gloom began,  Sphear'd in a radiant Cloud, for yet the Sun  Was not; shee in a cloudie Tabernacle  Sojourn'd the while. God saw the Light was good;  And light from darkness by the Hemisphere                           250  Divided: Light the Day, and Darkness Night  He nam'd. Thus was the first Day Eev'n and Morn:  Nor past uncelebrated, nor unsung  By the Celestial Quires, when Orient Light  Exhaling first from Darkness they beheld;  Birth-day of Heav'n and Earth; with joy and shout  The hollow Universal Orb they fill'd,  And touch't thir Golden Harps, & hymning prais'd  God and his works, Creatour him they sung,  Both when first Eevning was, and when first Morn.                   260  Again, God said, let ther be Firmament  Amid the Waters, and let it divide  The Waters from the Waters: and God made  The Firmament, expanse of liquid, pure,  Transparent, Elemental Air, diffus'd  In circuit to the uttermost convex  Of this great Round: partition firm and sure,  The Waters underneath from those above  Dividing: for as Earth, so hee the World  Built on circumfluous Waters calme, in wide                         270  Crystallin Ocean, and the loud misrule  Of Chaos farr remov'd, least fierce extreames  Contiguous might distemper the whole frame:  And Heav'n he nam'd the Firmament: So Eev'n  And Morning Chorus sung the second Day.  The Earth was form'd, but in the Womb as yet  Of Waters, Embryon immature involv'd,  Appeer'd not: over all the face of Earth  Main Ocean flow'd, not idle, but with warme  Prolific humour soft'ning all her Globe,                            280  Fermented the great Mother to conceave,  Satiate with genial moisture, when God said  Be gather'd now ye Waters under Heav'n  Into one place, and let dry Land appeer.  Immediately the Mountains huge appeer  Emergent, and thir broad bare backs upheave  Into the Clouds, thir tops ascend the Skie:  So high as heav'd the tumid Hills, so low  Down sunk a hollow bottom broad and deep,  Capacious bed of Waters: thither they                               290  Hasted with glad precipitance, uprowld  As drops on dust conglobing from the drie;  Part rise in crystal Wall, or ridge direct,  For haste; such flight the great command impress'd  On the swift flouds: as Armies at the call  Of Trumpet (for of Armies thou hast heard)  Troop to thir Standard, so the watrie throng,  Wave rowling after Wave, where way they found,
279s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

If steep, with torrent rapture, if through Plaine,  Soft-ebbing; nor withstood them Rock or Hill,                       300  But they, or under ground, or circuit wide  With Serpent errour wandring, found thir way,  And on the washie Oose deep Channels wore;  Easie, e're God had bid the ground be drie,  All but within those banks, where Rivers now  Stream, and perpetual draw thir humid traine.  The dry Land, Earth, and the great receptacle  Of congregated Waters he call'd Seas:  And saw that it was good, and said, Let th' Earth  Put forth the verdant Grass, Herb yeilding Seed,                    310  And Fruit Tree yeilding Fruit after her kind;  Whose Seed is in her self upon the Earth.  He scarce had said, when the bare Earth, till then  Desert and bare, unsightly, unadorn'd,  Brought forth the tender Grass, whose verdure clad  Her Universal Face with pleasant green,  Then Herbs of every leaf, that sudden flour'd  Op'ning thir various colours, and made gay  Her bosom smelling sweet: and these scarce blown,  Forth flourish't thick the clustring Vine, forth crept              320  The smelling Gourd, up stood the cornie Reed  Embattell'd in her field: add the humble Shrub,  And Bush with frizl'd hair implicit: last  Rose as in Dance the stately Trees, and spred  Thir branches hung with copious Fruit; or gemm'd  Thir Blossoms: with high Woods the Hills were crownd,  With tufts the vallies & each fountain side,  With borders long the Rivers. That Earth now  Seemd like to Heav'n, a seat where Gods might dwell,  Or wander with delight, and love to haunt                           330  Her sacred shades: though God had yet not rain'd  Upon the Earth, and man to till the ground  None was, but from the Earth a dewie Mist  Went up and waterd all the ground, and each  Plant of the field, which e're it was in the Earth  God made, and every Herb, before it grew  On the green stemm; God saw that it was good:  So Eev'n and Morn recorded the Third Day.  Again th' Almightie spake: Let there be Lights  High in th' expanse of Heaven to divide                             340  The Day from Night; and let them be for Signes,  For Seasons, and for Dayes, and circling Years,  And let them be for Lights as I ordaine  Thir Office in the Firmament of Heav'n  To give Light on the Earth; and it was so.  And God made two great Lights, great for thir use  To Man, the greater to have rule by Day,  The less by Night alterne: and made the Starrs,  And set them in the Firmament of Heav'n  To illuminate the Earth, and rule the Day                           350  In thir vicissitude, and rule the Night,  And Light from Darkness to divide. God saw,  Surveying his great Work, that it was good:  For of Celestial Bodies first the Sun  A mightie Spheare he fram'd, unlightsom first,  Though of Ethereal Mould: then form'd the Moon  Globose, and everie magnitude of Starrs,  And sowd with Starrs the Heav'n thick as a field:  Of Light by farr the greater part he took,  Transplanted from her cloudie Shrine, and plac'd                    360  In the Suns Orb, made porous to receive  And drink the liquid Light, firm to retaine  Her gather'd beams, great Palace now of Light.  Hither as to thir Fountain other Starrs  Repairing, in thir gold'n Urns draw Light,  And hence the Morning Planet guilds his horns;  By tincture or reflection they augment  Thir small peculiar, though from human sight  So farr remote, with diminution seen.  First in his East the glorious Lamp was seen,                       370  Regent of Day, and all th' Horizon round  Invested with bright Rayes, jocond to run  His Longitude through Heav'ns high rode: the gray  Dawn, and the Pleiades before him danc'd  Shedding sweet influence: less bright the Moon,  But opposite in leveld West was set  His mirror, with full face borrowing her Light  From him, for other light she needed none  In that aspect, and still that distance keepes  Till night, then in the East her turn she shines,                   380  Revolvd on Heav'ns great Axle, and her Reign  With thousand lesser Lights dividual holds,  With thousand thousand Starres, that then appeer'd  Spangling the Hemisphere: then first adornd  With thir bright Luminaries that Set and Rose,  Glad Eevning & glad Morn crownd the fourth day.
285s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

And God said, let the Waters generate  Reptil with Spawn abundant, living Soule:  And let Fowle flie above the Earth, with wings  Displayd on the op'n Firmament of Heav'n.                           390  And God created the great Whales, and each  Soul living, each that crept, which plenteously  The waters generated by thir kindes,  And every Bird of wing after his kinde;  And saw that it was good, and bless'd them, saying,  Be fruitful, multiply, and in the Seas  And Lakes and running Streams the waters fill;  And let the Fowle be multiply'd on the Earth.  Forthwith the Sounds and Seas, each Creek & Bay  With Frie innumerable swarme, and Shoales                           400  Of Fish that with thir Finns & shining Scales  Glide under the green Wave, in Sculles that oft  Bank the mid Sea: part single or with mate  Graze the Sea weed thir pasture, & through Groves  Of Coral stray, or sporting with quick glance  Show to the Sun thir wav'd coats dropt with Gold,  Or in thir Pearlie shells at ease, attend  Moist nutriment, or under Rocks thir food  In jointed Armour watch: on smooth the Seale,  And bended Dolphins play: part huge of bulk                         410  Wallowing unweildie, enormous in thir Gate  Tempest the Ocean: there Leviathan  Hugest of living Creatures, on the Deep  Stretcht like a Promontorie sleeps or swimmes,
286s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

And seems a moving Land, and at his Gilles  Draws in, and at his Trunck spouts out a Sea.
272s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

Mean while the tepid Caves, and Fens and shoares  Thir Brood as numerous hatch, from the Egg that soon  Bursting with kindly rupture forth disclos'd  Thir callow young, but featherd soon and fledge                     420  They summ'd thir Penns, and soaring th' air sublime  With clang despis'd the ground, under a cloud  In prospect; there the Eagle and the Stork  On Cliffs and Cedar tops thir Eyries build:  Part loosly wing the Region, part more wise  In common, rang'd in figure wedge thir way,  Intelligent of seasons, and set forth  Thir Aierie Caravan high over Sea's  Flying, and over Lands with mutual wing  Easing thir flight; so stears the prudent Crane                     430  Her annual Voiage, born on Windes; the Aire  Floats, as they pass, fann'd with unnumber'd plumes:  From Branch to Branch the smaller Birds with song  Solac'd the Woods, and spred thir painted wings  Till Ev'n, nor then the solemn Nightingal  Ceas'd warbling, but all night tun'd her soft layes:  Others on Silver Lakes and Rivers Bath'd  Thir downie Brest; the Swan with Arched neck  Between her white wings mantling proudly, Rowes  Her state with Oarie feet: yet oft they quit                        440  The Dank, and rising on stiff Pennons, towre  The mid Aereal Skie: Others on ground  Walk'd firm; the crested Cock whose clarion sounds  The silent hours, and th' other whose gay Traine  Adorns him, colour'd with the Florid hue  Of Rainbows and Starrie Eyes. The Waters thus  With Fish replenisht, and the Aire with Fowle,  Ev'ning and Morn solemniz'd the Fift day.  The Sixt, and of Creation last arose  With Eevning Harps and Mattin, when God said,                       450  Let th' Earth bring forth Fowle living in her kinde,  Cattel and Creeping things, and Beast of the Earth,  Each in their kinde. The Earth obey'd, and strait  Op'ning her fertil Woomb teem'd at a Birth  Innumerous living Creatures, perfet formes,  Limb'd and full grown: out of the ground up-rose  As from his Laire the wilde Beast where he wonns  In Forrest wilde, in Thicket, Brake, or Den;  Among the Trees in Pairs they rose, they walk'd:  The Cattel in the Fields and Meddowes green:                        460  Those rare and solitarie, these in flocks  Pasturing at once, and in broad Herds upsprung:  The grassie Clods now Calv'd, now half appeer'd  The Tawnie Lion, pawing to get free  His hinder parts, then springs as broke from Bonds,  And Rampant shakes his Brinded main; the Ounce,  The Libbard, and the Tyger, as the Moale  Rising, the crumbl'd Earth above them threw  In Hillocks; the swift Stag from under ground  Bore up his branching head: scarse from his mould                   470  Behemoth biggest born of Earth upheav'd  His vastness: Fleec't the Flocks and bleating rose,  As Plants: ambiguous between Sea and Land  The River Horse and scalie Crocodile.  At once came forth whatever creeps the ground,  Insect or Worme; those wav'd thir limber fans  For wings, and smallest Lineaments exact  In all the Liveries dect of Summers pride  With spots of Gold and Purple, azure and green:  These as a line thir long dimension drew,                           480  Streaking the ground with sinuous trace; not all  Minims of Nature; some of Serpent kinde  Wondrous in length and corpulence involv'd  Thir Snakie foulds, and added wings. First crept  The Parsimonious Emmet, provident  Of future, in small room large heart enclos'd,  Pattern of just equalitie perhaps  Hereafter, join'd in her popular Tribes  Of Commonaltie: swarming next appeer'd  The Femal Bee that feeds her Husband Drone                          490  Deliciously, and builds her waxen Cells  With Honey stor'd: the rest are numberless,  And thou thir Natures know'st, and gav'st them Names,  Needlest to thee repeated; nor unknown  The Serpent suttl'st Beast of all the field,  Of huge extent somtimes, with brazen Eyes  And hairie Main terrific, though to thee  Not noxious, but obedient at thy call.  Now Heav'n in all her Glorie shon, and rowld  Her motions, as the great first-Movers hand                         500  First wheeld thir course; Earth in her rich attire  Consummate lovly smil'd; Aire, Water, Earth,  By Fowl, Fish, Beast, was flown, was swum, was walkt  Frequent; and of the Sixt day yet remain'd;  There wanted yet the Master work, the end  Of all yet don; a Creature who not prone  And Brute as other Creatures, but endu'd  With Sanctitie of Reason, might erect  His Stature, and upright with Front serene  Govern the rest, self-knowing, and from thence                      510  Magnanimous to correspond with Heav'n,  But grateful to acknowledge whence his good  Descends, thither with heart and voice and eyes  Directed in Devotion, to adore  And worship God Supream, who made him chief  Of all his works: therefore the Omnipotent  Eternal Father (For where is not hee  Present) thus to his Son audibly spake.  Let us make now Man in our image, Man  In our similitude, and let them rule                                520  Over the Fish and Fowle of Sea and Aire,  Beast of the Field, and over all the Earth,  And every creeping thing that creeps the ground.  This said, he formd thee, Adam, thee O Man  Dust of the ground, and in thy nostrils breath'd  The breath of Life; in his own Image hee  Created thee, in the Image of God  Express, and thou becam'st a living Soul.  Male he created thee, but thy consort  Femal for Race; then bless'd Mankinde, and said,                    530  Be fruitful, multiplie, and fill the Earth,  Subdue it, and throughout Dominion hold  Over Fish of the Sea, and Fowle of the Aire,  And every living thing that moves on the Earth.  Wherever thus created, for no place  Is yet distinct by name, thence, as thou know'st  He brought thee into this delicious Grove,  This Garden, planted with the Trees of God,  Delectable both to behold and taste;  And freely all thir pleasant fruit for food                         540  Gave thee, all sorts are here that all th' Earth yeelds,  Varietie without end; but of the Tree  Which tasted works knowledge of Good and Evil,  Thou mai'st not; in the day thou eat'st, thou di'st;  Death is the penaltie impos'd, beware,  And govern well thy appetite, least sin  Surprise thee, and her black attendant Death.  Here finish'd hee, and all that he had made  View'd, and behold all was entirely good;  So Ev'n and Morn accomplish'd the Sixt day:                         550  Yet not till the Creator from his work  Desisting, though unwearied, up returnd  Up to the Heav'n of Heav'ns his high abode,  Thence to behold this new created World  Th' addition of his Empire, how it shew'd  In prospect from his Throne, how good, how faire,  Answering his great Idea. Up he rode  Followd with acclamation and the sound  Symphonious of ten thousand Harpes that tun'd  Angelic harmonies: the Earth, the Aire                              560  Resounded, (thou remember'st, for thou heardst)  The Heav'ns and all the Constellations rung,  The Planets in thir stations list'ning stood,  While the bright Pomp ascended jubilant.  Open, ye everlasting Gates, they sung,  Open, ye Heav'ns, your living dores; let in  The great Creator from his work returnd  Magnificent, his Six days work, a World;  Open, and henceforth oft; for God will deigne  To visit oft the dwellings of just Men                              570  Delighted, and with frequent intercourse  Thither will send his winged Messengers  On errands of supernal Grace. So sung  The glorious Train ascending: He through Heav'n,  That open'd wide her blazing Portals, led  To Gods Eternal house direct the way,  A broad and ample rode, whose dust is Gold  And pavement Starrs, as Starrs to thee appeer,  Seen in the Galaxie, that Milkie way  Which nightly as a circling Zone thou seest                         580  Pouderd with Starrs. And now on Earth the Seaventh  Eev'ning arose in Eden, for the Sun  Was set, and twilight from the East came on,
292s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

Forerunning Night; when at the holy mount  Of Heav'ns high-seated top, th' Impereal Throne  Of Godhead, fixt for ever firm and sure,  The Filial Power arriv'd, and sate him down  With his great Father (for he also went  Invisible, yet staid (such priviledge  Hath Omnipresence) and the work ordain'd,                           590  Author and end of all things, and from work  Now resting, bless'd and hallowd the Seav'nth day,  As resting on that day from all his work,  But not in silence holy kept; the Harp  Had work and rested not, the solemn Pipe,  And Dulcimer, all Organs of sweet stop,  All sounds on Fret by String or Golden Wire  Temper'd soft Tunings, intermixt with Voice  Choral or Unison: of incense Clouds  Fuming from Golden Censers hid the Mount.                           600  Creation and the Six dayes acts they sung,  Great are thy works, Jehovah, infinite  Thy power; what thought can measure thee or tongue  Relate thee; greater now in thy return  Then from the Giant Angels; thee that day  Thy Thunders magnifi'd; but to create  Is greater then created to destroy.  Who can impair thee, mighty King, or bound  Thy Empire? easily the proud attempt  Of Spirits apostat and thir Counsels vaine                          610  Thou hast repeld, while impiously they thought  Thee to diminish, and from thee withdraw  The number of thy worshippers. Who seekes  To lessen thee, against his purpose serves  To manifest the more thy might: his evil  Thou usest, and from thence creat'st more good.  Witness this new-made World, another Heav'n  From Heaven Gate not farr, founded in view  On the cleer Hyaline, the Glassie Sea;  Of amplitude almost immense, with Starr's                           620  Numerous, and every Starr perhaps a World  Of destind habitation; but thou know'st  Thir seasons: among these the seat of men,  Earth with her nether Ocean circumfus'd,  Thir pleasant dwelling place. Thrice happie men,  And sons of men, whom God hath thus advanc't,  Created in his Image, there to dwell  And worship him, and in reward to rule  Over his Works, on Earth, in Sea, or Air,  And multiply a Race of Worshippers                                  630  Holy and just: thrice happie if they know  Thir happiness, and persevere upright.  So sung they, and the Empyrean rung,  With Halleluiahs: Thus was Sabbath kept.  And thy request think now fulfill'd, that ask'd  How first this World and face of things began,  And what before thy memorie was don  From the beginning, that posteritie  Informd by thee might know; if else thou seekst  Aught, not surpassing human measure, say.                           640  Notes:  451. Bentley's emendation of soul for fowl should be noted.  See Genesis i. 30 A. V. margin.  563 stations] station 1674  The End of the Seventh Book





BOOK VIII.

THE ARGUMENT.

Adam inquires concerning celestial Motions, is doubtfullyanswer'd and exhorted to search rather things more worthy ofknowledg: Adam assents, and still desirous to detain Raphael,relates to him what he remember'd since his own Creation, hisplacing in Paradise, his talk with God concerning solitude andfit society, his first meeting and Nuptials with Eve, hisdiscourse with the Angel thereupon; who after admonitionsrepeated departs.

[THE Angel ended, and in Adams Eare  So Charming left his voice, that he a while  Thought him still speaking, still stood fixt to hear;  Then as new wak't thus gratefully repli'd.]  What thanks sufficient, or what recompence  Equal have I to render thee, Divine  Hystorian, who thus largely hast allayd  The thirst I had of knowledge, and voutsaf't  This friendly condescention to relate  Things else by me unsearchable, now heard                            10  With wonder, but delight, and, as is due,  With glorie attributed to the high  Creator; some thing yet of doubt remaines,  Which onely thy solution can resolve.  When I behold this goodly Frame, this World  Of Heav'n and Earth consisting, and compute,  Thir magnitudes, this Earth a spot, a graine,  An Atom, with the Firmament compar'd  And all her numberd Starrs, that seem to rowle  Spaces incomprehensible (for such                                    20  Thir distance argues and thir swift return  Diurnal) meerly to officiate light  Round this opacous Earth, this punctual spot,  One day and night; in all thir vast survey  Useless besides, reasoning I oft admire,  How Nature wise and frugal could commit  Such disproportions, with superfluous hand  So many nobler Bodies to create,  Greater so manifold to this one use,  For aught appeers, and on thir Orbs impose                           30  Such restless revolution day by day  Repeated, while the sedentarie Earth,  That better might with farr less compass move,  Serv'd by more noble then her self, attaines  Her end without least motion, and receaves,  As Tribute such a sumless journey brought  Of incorporeal speed, her warmth and light;  Speed, to describe whose swiftness Number failes.  So spake our Sire, and by his count'nance seemd  Entring on studious thoughts abstruse, which Eve                     40  Perceaving where she sat retir'd in sight,  With lowliness Majestic from her seat,  And Grace that won who saw to wish her stay,  Rose, and went forth among her Fruits and Flours,  To visit how they prosper'd, bud and bloom,  Her Nurserie; they at her coming sprung  And toucht by her fair tendance gladlier grew.  Yet went she not, as not with such discourse  Delighted, or not capable her eare  Of what was high: such pleasure she reserv'd,                        50  Adam relating, she sole Auditress;  Her Husband the Relater she preferr'd  Before the Angel, and of him to ask  Chose rather; hee, she knew would intermix  Grateful digressions, and solve high dispute  With conjugal Caresses, from his Lip  Not Words alone pleas'd her. O when meet now  Such pairs, in Love and mutual Honour joyn'd?  With Goddess-like demeanour forth she went;  Not unattended, for on her as Queen                                  60  A pomp of winning Graces waited still,  And from about her shot Darts of desire  Into all Eyes to wish her still in sight.  And Raphael now to Adam's doubt propos'd  Benevolent and facil thus repli'd.  To ask or search I blame thee not, for Heav'n  Is as the Book of God before thee set,  Wherein to read his wondrous Works, and learne  His Seasons, Hours, or Days, or Months, or Yeares:  This to attain, whether Heav'n move or Earth,                        70  Imports not, if thou reck'n right, the rest  From Man or Angel the great Architect  Did wisely to conceal, and not divulge  His secrets to be scann'd by them who ought  Rather admire; or if they list to try  Conjecture, he his Fabric of the Heav'ns  Hath left to thir disputes, perhaps to move  His laughter at thir quaint Opinions wide  Hereafter, when they come to model Heav'n  And calculate the Starrs, how they will weild                        80  The mightie frame, how build, unbuild, contrive  To save appeerances, how gird the Sphear  With Centric and Eccentric scribl'd o're,  Cycle and Epicycle, Orb in Orb:  Alreadie by thy reasoning this I guess,  Who art to lead thy ofspring, and supposest  That Bodies bright and greater should not serve  The less not bright, nor Heav'n such journies run,  Earth sitting still, when she alone receaves  The benefit: consider first, that Great                              90  Or Bright inferrs not Excellence: the Earth  Though, in comparison of Heav'n, so small,  Nor glistering, may of solid good containe  More plenty then the Sun that barren shines,  Whose vertue on it self workes no effect,  But in the fruitful Earth; there first receavd  His beams, unactive else, thir vigor find.  Yet not to Earth are those bright Luminaries  Officious, but to thee Earths habitant.  And for the Heav'ns wide Circuit, let it speak                      100  The Makers high magnificence, who built  So spacious, and his Line stretcht out so farr;  That Man may know he dwells not in his own;  An Edifice too large for him to fill,  Lodg'd in a small partition, and the rest  Ordain'd for uses to his Lord best known.  The swiftness of those Circles attribute,  Though numberless, to his Omnipotence,  That to corporeal substances could adde  Speed almost Spiritual; mee thou thinkst not slow,                  110  Who since the Morning hour set out from Heav'n  Where God resides, and ere mid-day arriv'd  In Eden, distance inexpressible  By Numbers that have name. But this I urge,  Admitting Motion in the Heav'ns, to shew  Invalid that which thee to doubt it mov'd;  Not that I so affirm, though so it seem  To thee who hast thy dwelling here on Earth.  God to remove his wayes from human sense,  Plac'd Heav'n from Earth so farr, that earthly sight,               120  If it presume, might erre in things too high,  And no advantage gaine. What if the Sun  Be Center to the World, and other Starrs  By his attractive vertue and thir own  Incited, dance about him various rounds?  Thir wandring course now high, now low, then hid,  Progressive, retrograde, or standing still,  In six thou seest, and what if sev'nth to these  The Planet Earth, so stedfast though she seem,  Insensibly three different Motions move?                            130  Which else to several Sphears thou must ascribe,  Mov'd contrarie with thwart obliquities,  Or save the Sun his labour, and that swift  Nocturnal and Diurnal rhomb suppos'd,  Invisible else above all Starrs, the Wheele  Of Day and Night; which needs not thy beleefe,  If Earth industrious of her self fetch Day  Travelling East, and with her part averse  From the Suns beam meet Night, her other part  Still luminous by his ray. What if that light                       140  Sent from her through the wide transpicuous aire,  To the terrestrial Moon be as a Starr  Enlightning her by Day, as she by Night  This Earth? reciprocal, if Land be there,  Feilds and Inhabitants: Her spots thou seest  As Clouds, and Clouds may rain, and Rain produce  Fruits in her soft'nd Soile, for some to eate  Allotted there; and other Suns perhaps  With thir attendant Moons thou wilt descrie  Communicating Male and Femal Light,                                 150  Which two great Sexes animate the World,  Stor'd in each Orb perhaps with some that live.  For such vast room in Nature unpossest  By living Soule, desert and desolate,  Onely to shine, yet scarce to contribute  Each Orb a glimps of Light, conveyd so farr  Down to this habitable, which returnes  Light back to them, is obvious to dispute.  But whether thus these things, or whether not,  Whether the Sun predominant in Heav'n                               160  Rise on the Earth, or Earth rise on the Sun,  Hee from the East his flaming rode begin,  Or Shee from West her silent course advance  With inoffensive pace that spinning sleeps  On her soft Axle, while she paces Eev'n,  And bears thee soft with the smooth Air along,  Sollicit not thy thoughts with matters hid,  Leave them to God above, him serve and feare;  Of other Creatures, as him pleases best,  Wherever plac't, let him dispose: joy thou                          170  In what he gives to thee, this Paradise  And thy faire Eve; Heav'n is for thee too high  To know what passes there; be lowlie wise:  Think onely what concernes thee and thy being;  Dream not of other Worlds, what Creatures there  Live, in what state, condition or degree,  Contented that thus farr hath been reveal'd  Not of Earth onely but of highest Heav'n.  To whom thus Adam cleerd of doubt, repli'd.  How fully hast thou satisfi'd mee, pure                             180  Intelligence of Heav'n, Angel serene,  And freed from intricacies, taught to live,  The easiest way, nor with perplexing thoughts  To interrupt the sweet of Life, from which  God hath bid dwell farr off all anxious cares,  And not molest us, unless we our selves  Seek them with wandring thoughts, and notions vaine.  But apt the Mind or Fancie is to roave  Uncheckt, and of her roaving is no end;  Till warn'd, or by experience taught, she learne,                   190  That not to know at large of things remote  From use, obscure and suttle, but to know  That which before us lies in daily life,  Is the prime Wisdom, what is more, is fume,  Or emptiness, or fond impertinence,  And renders us in things that most concerne  Unpractis'd, unprepar'd, and still to seek.  Therefore from this high pitch let us descend  A lower flight, and speak of things at hand  Useful, whence haply mention may arise                              200  Of somthing not unseasonable to ask  By sufferance, and thy wonted favour deign'd.  Thee I have heard relating what was don  Ere my remembrance: now hear mee relate  My Storie, which perhaps thou hast not heard;  And Day is yet not spent; till then thou seest  How suttly to detaine thee I devise,  Inviting thee to hear while I relate,  Fond, were it not in hope of thy reply:  For while I sit with thee, I seem in Heav'n,                        210  And sweeter thy discourse is to my eare  Then Fruits of Palm-tree pleasantest to thirst  And hunger both, from labour, at the houre  Of sweet repast; they satiate, and soon fill,  Though pleasant, but thy words with Grace Divine  Imbu'd, bring to thir sweetness no satietie.  To whom thus Raphael answer'd heav'nly meek.  Nor are thy lips ungraceful, Sire of men,  Nor tongue ineloquent; for God on thee  Abundantly his gifts hath also pour'd,                              220  Inward and outward both, his image faire:  Speaking or mute all comliness and grace  Attends thee, and each word, each motion formes.  Nor less think wee in Heav'n of thee on Earth  Then of our fellow servant, and inquire  Gladly into the wayes of God with Man:  For God we see hath honour'd thee, and set  On Man his equal Love: say therefore on;  For I that Day was absent, as befell,  Bound on a voyage uncouth and obscure,                              230  Farr on excursion toward the Gates of Hell;  Squar'd in full Legion (such command we had)  To see that none thence issu'd forth a spie,  Or enemie, while God was in his work,  Least hee incenst at such eruption bold,  Destruction with Creation might have mixt.  Not that they durst without his leave attempt,  But us he sends upon his high behests  For state, as Sovran King, and to enure  Our prompt obedience. Fast we found, fast shut                      240  The dismal Gates, and barricado'd strong;  But long ere our approaching heard within  Noise, other then the sound of Dance or Song,  Torment, and lowd lament, and furious rage.  Glad we return'd up to the coasts of Light  Ere Sabbath Eev'ning: so we had in charge.  But thy relation now; for I attend,  Pleas'd with thy words no less then thou with mine.  So spake the Godlike Power, and thus our Sire.  For Man to tell how human Life began                                250  Is hard; for who himself beginning knew?  Desire with thee still longer to converse  Induc'd me. As new wak't from soundest sleep  Soft on the flourie herb I found me laid  In Balmie Sweat, which with his Beames the Sun  Soon dri'd, and on the reaking moisture fed.  Strait toward Heav'n my wondring Eyes I turnd,  And gaz'd a while the ample Skie, till rais'd  By quick instinctive motion up I sprung,  As thitherward endevoring, and upright                              260  Stood on my feet; about me round I saw  Hill, Dale, and shadie Woods, and sunnie Plaines,  And liquid Lapse of murmuring Streams; by these,  Creatures that livd, and movd, and walk'd, or flew,  Birds on the branches warbling; all things smil'd,  With fragrance and with joy my heart oreflow'd.  My self I then perus'd, and Limb by Limb  Survey'd, and sometimes went, and sometimes ran  With supple joints, as lively vigour led:  But who I was, or where, or from what cause,                        270  Knew not; to speak I tri'd, and forthwith spake,  My Tongue obey'd and readily could name  What e're I saw. Thou Sun, said I, faire Light,  And thou enlight'nd Earth, so fresh and gay,  Ye Hills and Dales, ye Rivers, Woods, and Plaines,  And ye that live and move, fair Creatures, tell,  Tell, if ye saw, how came I thus, how here?  Not of my self; by some great Maker then,  In goodness and in power praeeminent;  Tell me, how may I know him, how adore,                             280  From whom I have that thus I move and live,  And feel that I am happier then I know.  While thus I call'd, and stray'd I knew not whither,  From where I first drew Aire, and first beheld  This happie Light, when answer none return'd,  On a green shadie Bank profuse of Flours  Pensive I sate me down; there gentle sleep  First found me, and with soft oppression seis'd  My droused sense, untroubl'd, though I thought  I then was passing to my former state                               290  Insensible, and forthwith to dissolve:  When suddenly stood at my Head a dream,  Whose inward apparition gently mov'd  My Fancy to believe I yet had being,  And livd: One came, methought, of shape Divine,  And said, thy Mansion wants thee, Adam, rise,  First Man, of Men innumerable ordain'd  First Father, call'd by thee I come thy Guide  To the Garden of bliss, thy seat prepar'd.  So saying, by the hand he took me rais'd,                           300  And over Fields and Waters, as in Aire  Smooth sliding without step, last led me up  A woodie Mountain; whose high top was plaine,  A Circuit wide, enclos'd, with goodliest Trees  Planted, with Walks, and Bowers, that what I saw  Of Earth before scarse pleasant seemd. Each Tree  Load'n with fairest Fruit, that hung to the Eye  Tempting, stirr'd in me sudden appetite  To pluck and eate; whereat I wak'd, and found  Before mine Eyes all real, as the dream                             310  Had lively shadowd: Here had new begun  My wandring, had not hee who was my Guide  Up hither, from among the Trees appeer'd,  Presence Divine. Rejoycing, but with aw  In adoration at his feet I fell  Submiss: he rear'd me, & Whom thou soughtst I am,  Said mildely, Author of all this thou seest  Above, or round about thee or beneath.  This Paradise I give thee, count it thine  To Till and keep, and of the Fruit to eate:                         320  Of every Tree that in the Garden growes  Eate freely with glad heart; fear here no dearth:  But of the Tree whose operation brings  Knowledg of good and ill, which I have set  The Pledge of thy Obedience and thy Faith,  Amid the Garden by the Tree of Life,  Remember what I warne thee, shun to taste,  And shun the bitter consequence: for know,  The day thou eat'st thereof, my sole command  Transgrest, inevitably thou shalt dye;                              330  From that day mortal, and this happie State  Shalt loose, expell'd from hence into a World  Of woe and sorrow. Sternly he pronounc'd  The rigid interdiction, which resounds  Yet dreadful in mine eare, though in my choice  Not to incur; but soon his cleer aspect  Return'd and gratious purpose thus renew'd.  Not onely these fair bounds, but all the Earth  To thee and to thy Race I give; as Lords  Possess it, and all things that therein live,                       340  Or live in Sea, or Aire, Beast, Fish, and Fowle.  In signe whereof each Bird and Beast behold  After thir kindes; I bring them to receave  From thee thir Names, and pay thee fealtie  With low subjection; understand the same  Of Fish within thir watry residence,  Not hither summond, since they cannot change  Thir Element to draw the thinner Aire.  As thus he spake, each Bird and Beast behold  Approaching two and two, These cowring low                          350  With blandishment, each Bird stoop'd on his wing.  I nam'd them, as they pass'd, and understood  Thir Nature, with such knowledg God endu'd  My sudden apprehension: but in these  I found not what me thought I wanted still;  And to the Heav'nly vision thus presum'd.  O by what Name, for thou above all these,  Above mankinde, or aught then mankinde higher,  Surpassest farr my naming, how may I  Adore thee, Author of this Universe,                                360  And all this good to man, for whose well being  So amply, and with hands so liberal  Thou hast provided all things: but with mee  I see not who partakes. In solitude  What happiness, who can enjoy alone,  Or all enjoying, what contentment find?  Thus I presumptuous; and the vision bright,  As with a smile more bright'nd, thus repli'd.  What call'st thou solitude, is not the Earth  With various living creatures, and the Aire                         370  Replenisht, and all these at thy command  To come and play before thee, know'st thou not  Thir language and thir wayes, they also know,  And reason not contemptibly; with these  Find pastime, and beare rule; thy Realm is large.  So spake the Universal Lord, and seem'd  So ordering. I with leave of speech implor'd,  And humble deprecation thus repli'd.  Let not my words offend thee, Heav'nly Power,  My Maker, be propitious while I speak.                              380  Hast thou not made me here thy substitute,  And these inferiour farr beneath me set?  Among unequals what societie  Can sort, what harmonie or true delight?  Which must be mutual, in proportion due  Giv'n and receiv'd; but in disparitie  The one intense, the other still remiss  Cannot well suite with either, but soon prove  Tedious alike: Of fellowship I speak  Such as I seek, fit to participate                                  390  All rational delight, wherein the brute  Cannot be human consort; they rejoyce  Each with thir kinde, Lion with Lioness;  So fitly them in pairs thou hast combin'd;  Much less can Bird with Beast, or Fish with Fowle  So well converse, nor with the Ox the Ape;  Wors then can Man with Beast, and least of all.  Whereto th' Almighty answer'd, not displeas'd.  A nice and suttle happiness I see  Thou to thy self proposest, in the choice                           400  Of thy Associates, Adam, and wilt taste  No pleasure, though in pleasure, solitarie.  What thinkst thou then of mee, and this my State,  Seem I to thee sufficiently possest  Of happiness, or not? who am alone  From all Eternitie, for none I know  Second to mee or like, equal much less.  How have I then with whom to hold converse  Save with the Creatures which I made, and those  To me inferiour, infinite descents                                  410  Beneath what other Creatures are to thee?  He ceas'd, I lowly answer'd. To attaine  The highth and depth of thy Eternal wayes  All human thoughts come short, Supream of things;  Thou in thy self art perfet, and in thee  Is no deficience found; not so is Man,  But in degree, the cause of his desire  By conversation with his like to help,  Or solace his defects. No need that thou  Shouldst propagat, already infinite;                                420  And through all numbers absolute, though One;  But Man by number is to manifest  His single imperfection, and beget  Like of his like, his Image multipli'd,  In unitie defective, which requires  Collateral love, and deerest amitie.  Thou in thy secresie although alone,  Best with thy self accompanied, seek'st not  Social communication, yet so pleas'd,  Canst raise thy Creature to what highth thou wilt                   430  Of Union or Communion, deifi'd;  I by conversing cannot these erect  From prone, nor in thir wayes complacence find.  Thus I embold'nd spake, and freedom us'd  Permissive, and acceptance found, which gain'd  This answer from the gratious voice Divine.  Thus farr to try thee, Adam, I was pleas'd,  And finde thee knowing not of Beasts alone,  Which thou hast rightly nam'd, but of thy self,  Expressing well the spirit within thee free,                        440  My Image, not imparted to the Brute,  Whose fellowship therefore unmeet for thee  Good reason was thou freely shouldst dislike,  And be so minded still; I, ere thou spak'st,  Knew it not good for Man to be alone,  And no such companie as then thou saw'st  Intended thee, for trial onely brought,  To see how thou could'st judge of fit and meet:  What next I bring shall please thee, be assur'd,  Thy likeness, thy fit help, thy other self,                         450  Thy wish, exactly to thy hearts desire.  Hee ended, or I heard no more, for now  My earthly by his Heav'nly overpowerd,  Which it had long stood under, streind to the highth  In that celestial Colloquie sublime,  As with an object that excels the sense,  Dazl'd and spent, sunk down, and sought repair  Of sleep, which instantly fell on me, call'd  By Nature as in aide, and clos'd mine eyes.  Mine eyes he clos'd, but op'n left the Cell                         460  Of Fancie my internal sight, by which  Abstract as in a transe methought I saw,  Though sleeping, where I lay, and saw the shape  Still glorious before whom awake I stood;  Who stooping op'nd my left side, and took  From thence a Rib, with cordial spirits warme,  And Life-blood streaming fresh; wide was the wound,  But suddenly with flesh fill'd up & heal'd:  The Rib he formd and fashond with his hands;  Under his forming hands a Creature grew,                            470  Manlike, but different sex, so lovly faire,  That what seemd fair in all the World, seemd now  Mean, or in her summd up, in her containd  And in her looks, which from that time infus'd  Sweetness into my heart, unfelt before,  And into all things from her Aire inspir'd  The spirit of love and amorous delight.  She disappeerd, and left me dark, I wak'd  To find her, or for ever to deplore  Her loss, and other pleasures all abjure:                           480  When out of hope, behold her, not farr off,  Such as I saw her in my dream, adornd  With what all Earth or Heaven could bestow  To make her amiable: On she came,  Led by her Heav'nly Maker, though unseen,  And guided by his voice, nor uninformd  Of nuptial Sanctitie and marriage Rites:  Grace was in all her steps, Heav'n in her Eye,  In every gesture dignitie and love.  I overjoyd could not forbear aloud.                                 490  This turn hath made amends; thou hast fulfill'd  Thy words, Creator bounteous and benigne,  Giver of all things faire, but fairest this  Of all thy gifts, nor enviest. I now see  Bone of my Bone, Flesh of my Flesh, my Self  Before me; Woman is her Name, of Man  Extracted; for this cause he shall forgoe  Father and Mother, and to his Wife adhere;  And they shall be one Flesh, one Heart, one Soule.  She heard me thus, and though divinely brought,                     500  Yet Innocence and Virgin Modestie,  Her vertue and the conscience of her worth,  That would be woo'd, and not unsought be won,  Not obvious, not obtrusive, but retir'd,  The more desirable, or to say all,  Nature her self, though pure of sinful thought,  Wrought in her so, that seeing me, she turn'd;  I follow'd her, she what was Honour knew,  And with obsequious Majestie approv'd  My pleaded reason. To the Nuptial Bowre                             510  I led her blushing like the Morn: all Heav'n,  And happie Constellations on that houre  Shed thir selectest influence; the Earth  Gave sign of gratulation, and each Hill;  Joyous the Birds; fresh Gales and gentle Aires  Whisper'd it to the Woods, and from thir wings  Flung Rose, flung Odours from the spicie Shrub,  Disporting, till the amorous Bird of Night  Sung Spousal, and bid haste the Eevning Starr  On his Hill top, to light the bridal Lamp.                          520  Thus I have told thee all my State, and brought  My Storie to the sum of earthly bliss  Which I enjoy, and must confess to find  In all things else delight indeed, but such  As us'd or not, works in the mind no change,  Nor vehement desire, these delicacies  I mean of Taste, Sight, Smell, Herbs, Fruits, & Flours,  Walks, and the melodie of Birds; but here  Farr otherwise, transported I behold,  Transported touch; here passion first I felt,                       530  Commotion strange, in all enjoyments else  Superiour and unmov'd, here onely weake  Against the charm of Beauties powerful glance.  Or Nature faild in mee, and left some part  Not proof enough such Object to sustain,  Or from my side subducting, took perhaps  More then enough; at least on her bestow'd  Too much of Ornament, in outward shew  Elaborate, of inward less exact.  For well I understand in the prime end                              540  Of Nature her th' inferiour, in the mind  And inward Faculties, which most excell,  In outward also her resembling less  His Image who made both, and less expressing  The character of that Dominion giv'n  O're other Creatures; yet when I approach  Her loveliness, so absolute she seems  And in her self compleat, so well to know  Her own, that what she wills to do or say,  Seems wisest, vertuousest, discreetest, best;                       550  All higher knowledge in her presence falls  Degraded, Wisdom in discourse with her  Looses discount'nanc't, and like folly shewes;  Authoritie and Reason on her waite,  As one intended first, not after made  Occasionally; and to consummate all,  Greatness of mind and nobleness thir seat  Build in her loveliest, and create an awe  About her, as a guard Angelic plac't.  To whom the Angel with contracted brow.                             560  Accuse not Nature, she hath don her part;  Do thou but thine, and be not diffident  Of Wisdom, she deserts thee not, if thou  Dismiss not her, when most thou needst her nigh,  By attributing overmuch to things  Less excellent, as thou thy self perceav'st.  For what admir'st thou, what transports thee so,  An outside? fair no doubt, and worthy well  Thy cherishing, thy honouring, and thy love,  Not thy subjection: weigh with her thy self;                        570  Then value: Oft times nothing profits more  Then self-esteem, grounded on just and right  Well manag'd; of that skill the more thou know'st,  The more she will acknowledge thee her Head,  And to realities yeild all her shows;  Made so adorn for thy delight the more,  So awful, that with honour thou maist love  Thy mate, who sees when thou art seen least wise.  But if the sense of touch whereby mankind  Is propagated seem such dear delight                                580  Beyond all other, think the same voutsaf't  To Cattel and each Beast; which would not be  To them made common & divulg'd, if aught  Therein enjoy'd were worthy to subdue  The Soule of Man, or passion in him move.  What higher in her societie thou findst  Attractive, human, rational, love still;  In loving thou dost well, in passion not,  Wherein true Love consists not; love refines  The thoughts, and heart enlarges, hath his seat                     590  In Reason, and is judicious, is the scale  By which to heav'nly Love thou maist ascend,  Not sunk in carnal pleasure, for which cause  Among the Beasts no Mate for thee was found.  To whom thus half abash't Adam repli'd.  Neither her out-side formd so fair, nor aught  In procreation common to all kindes  (Though higher of the genial Bed by far,  And with mysterious reverence I deem)  So much delights me, as those graceful acts,                        600  Those thousand decencies that daily flow  From all her words and actions, mixt with Love  And sweet compliance, which declare unfeign'd  Union of Mind, or in us both one Soule;  Harmonie to behold in wedded pair  More grateful then harmonious sound to the eare.  Yet these subject not; I to thee disclose  What inward thence I feel, not therefore foild,  Who meet with various objects, from the sense  Variously representing; yet still free                              610  Approve the best, and follow what I approve.  To love thou blam'st me not, for love thou saist  Leads up to Heav'n, is both the way and guide;  Bear with me then, if lawful what I ask;  Love not the heav'nly Spirits, and how thir Love  Express they, by looks onely, or do they mix  Irradiance, virtual or immediate touch?  To whom the Angel with a smile that glow'd  Celestial rosie red, Loves proper hue,  Answer'd. Let it suffice thee that thou know'st                     620  Us happie, and without Love no happiness.  Whatever pure thou in the body enjoy'st  (And pure thou wert created) we enjoy  In eminence, and obstacle find none  Of membrane, joynt, or limb, exclusive barrs:  Easier then Air with Air, if Spirits embrace,  Total they mix, Union of Pure with Pure  Desiring; nor restrain'd conveyance need  As Flesh to mix with Flesh, or Soul with Soul.  But I can now no more; the parting Sun                              630  Beyond the Earths green Cape and verdant Isles  Hesperean sets, my Signal to depart.  Be strong, live happie, and love, but first of all  Him whom to love is to obey, and keep  His great command; take heed least Passion sway  Thy Judgement to do aught, which else free Will  Would not admit; thine and of all thy Sons  The weal or woe in thee is plac't; beware.  I in thy persevering shall rejoyce,  And all the Blest: stand fast; to stand or fall                     640  Free in thine own Arbitrement it lies.  Perfet within, no outward aid require;  And all temptation to transgress repel.  So saying, he arose; whom Adam thus  Follow'd with benediction. Since to part,  Go heavenly Guest, Ethereal Messenger,  Sent from whose sovran goodness I adore.  Gentle to me and affable hath been  Thy condescension, and shall be honour'd ever  With grateful Memorie: thou to mankind                              650  Be good and friendly still, and oft return.  So parted they, the Angel up to Heav'n  From the thick shade, and Adam to his Bowre.
008s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

Notes:  1-4  These lines were added in the second edition (1674) when  Book VII was divided into two at line 640.  Line 641 had read  'To whom thus Adam gratefully repli'd'.  269 as] and 1674.  The End Of The Eighth Book.





BOOK IX.

THE ARGUMENT.

Satan having compast the Earth, with meditated guile returnsas a mist by Night into Paradise, enters into the Serpentsleeping. Adam and Eve in the Morning go forth to thir labours,which Eve proposes to divide in several places, each labouringapart: Adam consents not, alledging the danger, lest that Enemy,of whom they were forewarn'd, should attempt her found alone: Eveloath to be thought not circumspect or firm enough, urges hergoing apart, the rather desirous to make tryal of her strength;Adam at last yields: The Serpent finds her alone; his subtleapproach, first gazing, then speaking with much flatteryextolling Eve above all other Creatures. Eve wondring to hear theSerpent speak, asks how he attain'd to human speech and suchunderstanding not till now; the Serpent answers, that by tastingof a certain Tree in the Garden he attain'd both to Speech andReason, till then void of both: Eve requires him to bring her tothat Tree, and finds it to be the Tree of Knowledge forbidden:The Serpent now grown bolder, with many wiles and argumentsinduces her at length to eat; she pleas'd with the tastedeliberates awhile whether to impart thereof to Adam or not, atlast brings him of the Fruit, relates what persuaded her to eatthereof: Adam at first amaz'd, but perceiving her lost, resolvesthrough vehemence of love to perish with her; and extenuating thetrespass, eats also of the Fruit: The effects thereof in themboth; they seek to cover thir nakedness; then fall to varianceand accusation of one another.

No more of talk where God or Angel Guest  With Man, as with his Friend, familiar us'd  To sit indulgent, and with him partake  Rural repast, permitting him the while  Venial discourse unblam'd: I now must change  Those Notes to Tragic; foul distrust, and breach  Disloyal on the part of Man, revolt  And disobedience: On the part of Heav'n  Now alienated, distance and distaste,  Anger and just rebuke, and judgement giv'n,                          10  That brought into this World a world of woe,  Sinne and her shadow Death, and Miserie  Deaths Harbinger: Sad task, yet argument  Not less but more Heroic then the wrauth  Of stern Achilles on his Foe pursu'd  Thrice Fugitive about Troy Wall; or rage  Of Turnus for Lavinia disespous'd,  Or Neptun's ire or Juno's, that so long  Perplex'd the Greek and Cytherea's Son;  If answerable style I can obtaine                                    20  Of my Celestial Patroness, who deignes  Her nightly visitation unimplor'd,  And dictates to me slumbring, or inspires  Easie my unpremeditated Verse:  Since first this subject for Heroic Song  Pleas'd me long choosing, and beginning late;  Not sedulous by Nature to indite  Warrs, hitherto the onely Argument  Heroic deem'd, chief maistrie to dissect  With long and tedious havoc fabl'd Knights                           30  In Battels feign'd; the better fortitude  Of Patience and Heroic Martyrdom  Unsung; or to describe Races and Games,  Or tilting Furniture, emblazon'd Shields,  Impreses quaint, Caparisons and Steeds;  Bases and tinsel Trappings, gorgious Knights  At Joust and Torneament; then marshal'd Feast  Serv'd up in Hall with Sewers, and Seneshals;  The skill of Artifice or Office mean,  Not that which justly gives Heroic name                              40  To Person or to Poem. Mee of these  Nor skilld nor studious, higher Argument  Remaines, sufficient of it self to raise  That name, unless an age too late, or cold  Climat, or Years damp my intended wing  Deprest, and much they may, if all be mine,  Not Hers who brings it nightly to my Ear.  The Sun was sunk, and after him the Starr  Of Hesperus, whose Office is to bring  Twilight upon the Earth, short Arbiter                               50  Twixt Day and Night, and now from end to end  Nights Hemisphere had veild the Horizon round:  When Satan who late fled before the threats  Of Gabriel out of Eden, now improv'd  In meditated fraud and malice, bent  On mans destruction, maugre what might hap  Of heavier on himself, fearless return'd.  By Night he fled, and at Midnight return'd  From compassing the Earth, cautious of day,  Since Uriel Regent of the Sun descri'd                               60  His entrance, and forewarnd the Cherubim  That kept thir watch; thence full of anguish driv'n,  The space of seven continu'd Nights he rode  With darkness, thrice the Equinoctial Line  He circl'd, four times cross'd the Carr of Night  From Pole to Pole, traversing each Colure;  On the eighth return'd, and on the Coast averse  From entrance or Cherubic Watch, by stealth  Found unsuspected way. There was a place,  Now not, though Sin, not Time, first wraught the change,             70  Where Tigris at the foot of Paradise  Into a Gulf shot under ground, till part  Rose up a Fountain by the Tree of Life;
344s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

In with the River sunk, and with it rose  Satan involv'd in rising Mist, then sought  Where to lie hid; Sea he had searcht and Land  From Eden over Pontus, and the Poole  Maeotis, up beyond the River Ob;  Downward as farr Antartic; and in length  West from Orantes to the Ocean barr'd                                80  At Darien, thence to the Land where flowes  Ganges and Indus: thus the Orb he roam'd  With narrow search; and with inspection deep  Consider'd every Creature, which of all  Most opportune might serve his Wiles, and found  The Serpent suttlest Beast of all the Field.  Him after long debate, irresolute  Of thoughts revolv'd, his final sentence chose  Fit Vessel, fittest Imp of fraud, in whom  To enter, and his dark suggestions hide                              90  From sharpest sight: for in the wilie Snake,  Whatever sleights none would suspicious mark,  As from his wit and native suttletie  Proceeding, which in other Beasts observ'd  Doubt might beget of Diabolic pow'r  Active within beyond the sense of brute.  Thus he resolv'd, but first from inward griefe  His bursting passion into plaints thus pour'd:
323s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

O Earth, how like to Heav'n, if not preferrd  More justly, Seat worthier of Gods, as built                        100  With second thoughts, reforming what was old!  For what God after better worse would build?  Terrestrial Heav'n, danc't round by other Heav'ns  That shine, yet bear thir bright officious Lamps,  Light above Light, for thee alone, as seems,  In thee concentring all thir precious beams  Of sacred influence: As God in Heav'n  Is Center, yet extends to all, so thou  Centring receav'st from all those Orbs; in thee,  Not in themselves, all thir known vertue appeers                    110  Productive in Herb, Plant, and nobler birth  Of Creatures animate with gradual life  Of Growth, Sense, Reason, all summ'd up in Man.  With what delight could I have walkt thee round  If I could joy in aught, sweet interchange  Of Hill and Vallie, Rivers, Woods and Plaines,  Now Land, now Sea, & Shores with Forrest crownd,  Rocks, Dens, and Caves; but I in none of these  Find place or refuge; and the more I see  Pleasures about me, so much more I feel                             120  Torment within me, as from the hateful siege  Of contraries; all good to me becomes  Bane, and in Heav'n much worse would be my state.  But neither here seek I, no nor in Heav'n  To dwell, unless by maistring Heav'ns Supreame;  Nor hope to be my self less miserable  By what I seek, but others to make such  As I though thereby worse to me redound:  For onely in destroying I finde ease  To my relentless thoughts; and him destroyd,                        130  Or won to what may work his utter loss,  For whom all this was made, all this will soon  Follow, as to him linkt in weal or woe,  In wo then; that destruction wide may range:  To mee shall be the glorie sole among  The infernal Powers, in one day to have marr'd  What he Almightie styl'd, six Nights and Days  Continu'd making, and who knows how long  Before had bin contriving, though perhaps  Not longer then since I in one Night freed                          140  From servitude inglorious welnigh half  Th' Angelic Name, and thinner left the throng  Of his adorers: hee to be aveng'd,  And to repaire his numbers thus impair'd,  Whether such vertue spent of old now faild  More Angels to Create, if they at least  Are his Created or to spite us more,  Determin'd to advance into our room  A Creature form'd of Earth, and him endow,  Exalted from so base original,                                      150  With Heav'nly spoils, our spoils: What he decreed  He effected; Man he made, and for him built  Magnificent this World, and Earth his seat,  Him Lord pronounc'd, and, O indignitie!  Subjected to his service Angel wings,  And flaming Ministers to watch and tend  Thir earthlie Charge: Of these the vigilance  I dread, and to elude, thus wrapt in mist  Of midnight vapor glide obscure, and prie  In every Bush and Brake, where hap may finde                        160  The Serpent sleeping, in whose mazie foulds  To hide me, and the dark intent I bring.  O foul descent! that I who erst contended  With Gods to sit the highest, am now constraind  Into a Beast, and mixt with bestial slime,  This essence to incarnate and imbrute,  That to the hight of Deitie aspir'd;  But what will not Ambition and Revenge  Descend to? who aspires must down as low  As high he soard, obnoxious first or last                           170  To basest things. Revenge, at first though sweet,  Bitter ere long back on it self recoiles;  Let it; I reck not, so it light well aim'd,  Since higher I fall short, on him who next  Provokes my envie, this new Favorite  Of Heav'n, this Man of Clay, Son of despite,  Whom us the more to spite his Maker rais'd  From dust: spite then with spite is best repaid.  So saying, through each Thicket Danck or Drie,  Like a black mist low creeping, he held on                          180  His midnight search, where soonest he might finde  The Serpent: him fast sleeping soon he found  In Labyrinth of many a round self-rowl'd,
324s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

His head the midst, well stor'd with suttle wiles:  Not yet in horrid Shade or dismal Den,  Nor nocent yet, but on the grassie Herbe  Fearless unfeard he slept: in at his Mouth  The Devil enterd, and his brutal sense,  In heart or head, possessing soon inspir'd  With act intelligential; but his sleep                              190  Disturbd not, waiting close th' approach of Morn.  Now whenas sacred Light began to dawne  In Eden on the humid Flours, that breathd  Thir morning Incense, when all things that breath,  From th' Earths great Altar send up silent praise  To the Creator, and his Nostrils fill  With gratefull Smell, forth came the human pair  And joynd thir vocal Worship to the Quire  Of Creatures wanting voice, that done, partake  The season, prime for sweetest Sents and Aires:                     200  Then commune how that day they best may ply  Thir growing work: for much thir work outgrew  The hands dispatch of two Gardning so wide.  And Eve first to her Husband thus began.  Adam, well may we labour still to dress  This Garden, still to tend Plant, Herb and Flour.  Our pleasant task enjoyn'd, but till more hands  Aid us, the work under our labour grows,  Luxurious by restraint; what we by day  Lop overgrown, or prune, or prop, or bind,                          210  One night or two with wanton growth derides  Tending to wilde. Thou therefore now advise  Or hear what to my mind first thoughts present,  Let us divide our labours, thou where choice  Leads thee, or where most needs, whether to wind  The Woodbine round this Arbour, or direct  The clasping Ivie where to climb, while I  In yonder Spring of Roses intermixt  With Myrtle, find what to redress till Noon:  For while so near each other thus all day                           220  Our task we choose, what wonder if so near  Looks intervene and smiles, or object new  Casual discourse draw on, which intermits  Our dayes work brought to little, though begun  Early, and th' hour of Supper comes unearn'd.  To whom mild answer Adam thus return'd.  Sole Eve, Associate sole, to me beyond  Compare above all living Creatures deare,  Well hast thou motion'd, wel thy thoughts imployd  How we might best fulfill the work which here                       230  God hath assign'd us, nor of me shalt pass  Unprais'd: for nothing lovelier can be found  In woman, then to studie houshold good,  And good workes in her Husband to promote.  Yet not so strictly hath our Lord impos'd  Labour, as to debarr us when we need  Refreshment, whether food, or talk between,  Food of the mind, or this sweet intercourse  Of looks and smiles, for smiles from Reason flow,  To brute deni'd, and are of Love the food,                          240  Love not the lowest end of human life.  For not to irksom toile, but to delight  He made us, and delight to Reason joyn'd.  These paths and Bowers doubt not but our joynt hands  Will keep from Wilderness with ease, as wide  As we need walk, till younger hands ere long  Assist us: But if much converse perhaps  Thee satiate, to short absence I could yeild.  For solitude somtimes is best societie,  And short retirement urges sweet returne.                           250  But other doubt possesses me, least harm  Befall thee sever'd from me; for thou knowst  What hath bin warn'd us, what malicious Foe  Envying our happiness, and of his own  Despairing, seeks to work us woe and shame  By sly assault; and somwhere nigh at hand  Watches, no doubt, with greedy hope to find  His wish and best advantage, us asunder,  Hopeless to circumvent us joynd, where each  To other speedie aide might lend at need;                           260  Whether his first design be to withdraw  Our fealtie from God, or to disturb  Conjugal Love, then which perhaps no bliss  Enjoy'd by us excites his envie more;  Or this, or worse, leave not the faithful side  That gave thee being, stil shades thee and protects.  The Wife, where danger or dishonour lurks,  Safest and seemliest by her Husband staies,  Who guards her, or with her the worst endures.  To whom the Virgin Majestie of Eve,                                 270  As one who loves, and some unkindness meets,  With sweet austeer composure thus reply'd.  Ofspring of Heav'n and Earth, and all Earths Lord,  That such an enemie we have, who seeks  Our ruin, both by thee informd I learne,  And from the parting Angel over-heard  As in a shadie nook I stood behind,  Just then returnd at shut of Evening Flours.  But that thou shouldst my firmness therefore doubt  To God or thee, because we have a foe                               280  May tempt it, I expected not to hear.  His violence thou fearst not, being such,  As wee, not capable of death or paine,  Can either not receave, or can repell.  His fraud is then thy fear, which plain inferrs  Thy equal fear that my firm Faith and Love  Can by his fraud be shak'n or seduc't;  Thoughts, which how found they harbour in thy Brest,  Adam, misthought of her to thee so dear?  To whom with healing words Adam reply'd.                            290  Daughter of God and Man, immortal Eve,  For such thou art, from sin and blame entire:  Not diffident of thee do I dissuade  Thy absence from my sight, but to avoid  Th' attempt it self, intended by our Foe.  For hee who tempts, though in vain, at least asperses  The tempted with dishonour foul, suppos'd  Not incorruptible of Faith, not prooff  Against temptation: thou thy self with scorne  And anger wouldst resent the offer'd wrong,                         300  Though ineffectual found: misdeem not then,  If such affront I labour to avert  From thee alone, which on us both at once  The Enemie, though bold, will hardly dare,  Or daring, first on mee th' assault shall light.  Nor thou his malice and false guile contemn;  Suttle he needs must be, who could seduce  Angels, nor think superfluous others aid.  I from the influence of thy looks receave  Access in every Vertue, in thy sight                                310  More wise, more watchful, stronger, if need were  Of outward strength; while shame, thou looking on,  Shame to be overcome or over-reacht  Would utmost vigor raise, and rais'd unite.  Why shouldst not thou like sense within thee feel  When I am present, and thy trial choose  With me, best witness of thy Vertue tri'd.  So spake domestick Adam in his care  And Matrimonial Love, but Eve, who thought  Less attributed to her Faith sincere,                               320  Thus her reply with accent sweet renewd.  If this be our condition, thus to dwell  In narrow circuit strait'nd by a Foe,  Suttle or violent, we not endu'd  Single with like defence, wherever met,  How are we happie, still in fear of harm?  But harm precedes not sin: onely our Foe  Tempting affronts us with his foul esteem  Of our integritie: his foul esteeme  Sticks no dishonor on our Front, but turns                          330  Foul on himself; then wherfore shund or feard  By us? who rather double honour gaine  From his surmise prov'd false, finde peace within,  Favour from Heav'n, our witness from th' event.  And what is Faith, Love, Vertue unassaid  Alone, without exterior help sustaind?  Let us not then suspect our happie State  Left so imperfet by the Maker wise,  As not secure to single or combin'd.  Fraile is our happiness, if this be so,                             340  And Eden were no Eden thus expos'd.  To whom thus Adam fervently repli'd.  O Woman, best are all things as the will  Of God ordaind them, his creating hand  Nothing imperfet or deficient left  Of all that he Created, much less Man,  Or ought that might his happie State secure,  Secure from outward force; within himself  The danger lies, yet lies within his power:  Against his will he can receave no harme.                           350  But God left free the Will, for what obeyes  Reason, is free, and Reason he made right,  But bid her well beware, and still erect,  Least by some faire appeering good surpris'd  She dictate false, and missinforme the Will  To do what God expresly hath forbid.  Not then mistrust, but tender love enjoynes,  That I should mind thee oft, and mind thou me.  Firm we subsist, yet possible to swerve,  Since Reason not impossibly may meet                                360  Some specious object by the Foe subornd,  And fall into deception unaware,  Not keeping strictest watch, as she was warnd.  Seek not temptation then, which to avoide  Were better, and most likelie if from mee  Thou sever not; Trial will come unsought.  Wouldst thou approve thy constancie, approve  First thy obedience; th' other who can know,  Not seeing thee attempted, who attest?  But if thou think, trial unsought may finde                         370  Us both securer then thus warnd thou seemst,  Go; for thy stay, not free, absents thee more;  Go in thy native innocence, relie  On what thou hast of vertue, summon all,  For God towards thee hath done his part, do thine.  So spake the Patriarch of Mankinde, but Eve  Persisted, yet submiss, though last, repli'd.  With thy permission then, and thus forewarnd  Chiefly by what thy own last reasoning words  Touchd onely, that our trial, when least sought,                    380  May finde us both perhaps farr less prepar'd,  The willinger I goe, nor much expect  A Foe so proud will first the weaker seek;  So bent, the more shall shame him his repulse.  Thus saying, from her Husbands hand her hand  Soft she withdrew, and like a Wood-Nymph light  Oread or Dryad, or of Delia's Traine,  Betook her to the Groves, but Delia's self  In gate surpass'd and Goddess-like deport,  Though not as shee with Bow and Quiver armd,                        390  But with such Gardning Tools as art yet rude,  Guiltless of fire had formd, or Angels brought,  To Pales, or Pomona, thus adornd,  Likest she seemd, Pomona when she fled  Vertumnus, or to Ceres in her Prime,  Yet Virgin of Proserpina from Jove.  Her long with ardent look his Eye pursu'd  Delighted, but desiring more her stay.  Oft he to her his charge of quick returne,  Repeated, shee to him as oft engag'd                                400  To be returnd by Noon amid the Bowre,  And all things in best order to invite  Noontide repast, or Afternoons repose.  O much deceav'd, much failing, hapless Eve,  Of thy presum'd return! event perverse!  Thou never from that houre in Paradise  Foundst either sweet repast, or sound repose;  Such ambush hid among sweet Flours and Shades  Waited with hellish rancor imminent  To intercept thy way, or send thee back                             410  Despoild of Innocence, of Faith, of Bliss.  For now, and since first break of dawne the Fiend,  Meer Serpent in appearance, forth was come,  And on his Quest, where likeliest he might finde  The onely two of Mankinde, but in them  The whole included Race, his purposd prey.  In Bowre and Field he sought, where any tuft  Of Grove or Garden-Plot more pleasant lay,  Thir tendance or Plantation for delight,  By Fountain or by shadie Rivulet                                    420  He sought them both, but wish'd his hap might find  Eve separate, he wish'd, but not with hope  Of what so seldom chanc'd, when to his wish,  Beyond his hope, Eve separate he spies,  Veild in a Cloud of Fragrance, where she stood,  Half spi'd, so thick the Roses bushing round  About her glowd, oft stooping to support  Each Flour of slender stalk, whose head though gay  Carnation, Purple, Azure, or spect with Gold,  Hung drooping unsustaind, them she upstaies                         430  Gently with Mirtle band, mindless the while,  Her self, though fairest unsupported Flour,  From her best prop so farr, and storm so nigh.
345s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

Neerer he drew, and many a walk travers'd  Of stateliest Covert, Cedar, Pine, or Palme,  Then voluble and bold, now hid, now seen  Among thick-wov'n Arborets and Flours  Imborderd on each Bank, the hand of Eve:  Spot more delicious then those Gardens feign'd  Or of reviv'd Adonis, or renownd                                    440  Alcinous, host of old Laertes Son,  Or that, not Mystic, where the Sapient King  Held dalliance with his faire Egyptian Spouse.  Much hee the Place admir'd, the Person more.  As one who long in populous City pent,  Where Houses thick and Sewers annoy the Aire,  Forth issuing on a Summers Morn, to breathe  Among the pleasant Villages and Farmes  Adjoynd, from each thing met conceaves delight,  The smell of Grain, or tedded Grass, or Kine,                       450  Or Dairie, each rural sight, each rural sound;  If chance with Nymphlike step fair Virgin pass,  What pleasing seemd, for her now pleases more,  She most, and in her look summs all Delight.  Such Pleasure took the Serpent to behold  This Flourie Plat, the sweet recess of Eve  Thus earlie, thus alone; her Heav'nly forme  Angelic, but more soft, and Feminine,  Her graceful Innocence, her every Aire  Of gesture or lest action overawd                                   460  His Malice, and with rapine sweet bereav'd  His fierceness of the fierce intent it brought:  That space the Evil one abstracted stood  From his own evil, and for the time remaind  Stupidly good, of enmitie disarm'd,  Of guile, of hate, of envie, of revenge;  But the hot Hell that alwayes in him burnes,  Though in mid Heav'n, soon ended his delight,  And tortures him now more, the more he sees  Of pleasure not for him ordain'd: then soon                         470  Fierce hate he recollects, and all his thoughts  Of mischief, gratulating, thus excites.  Thoughts, whither have he led me, with what sweet  Compulsion thus transported to forget  What hither brought us, hate, not love, nor hope  Of Paradise for Hell, hope here to taste  Of pleasure, but all pleasure to destroy,  Save what is in destroying, other joy  To me is lost. Then let me not let pass  Occasion which now smiles, behold alone                             480  The Woman, opportune to all attempts,  Her Husband, for I view far round, not nigh,  Whose higher intellectual more I shun,  And strength, of courage hautie, and of limb  Heroic built, though of terrestrial mould,  Foe not informidable, exempt from wound,  I not; so much hath Hell debas'd, and paine  Infeebl'd me, to what I was in Heav'n.  Shee fair, divinely fair, fit Love for Gods,  Not terrible, though terrour be in Love                             490  And beautie, not approacht by stronger hate,  Hate stronger, under shew of Love well feign'd,  The way which to her ruin now I tend.  So spake the Enemie of Mankind, enclos'd  In Serpent, Inmate bad, and toward Eve  Address'd his way, not with indented wave,  Prone on the ground, as since, but on his reare,  Circular base of rising foulds, that tour'd  Fould above fould a surging Maze, his Head  Crested aloft, and Carbuncle his Eyes;                              500  With burnisht Neck of verdant Gold, erect  Amidst his circling Spires, that on the grass  Floted redundant: pleasing was his shape,  And lovely, never since of Serpent kind  Lovelier, not those that in Illyria chang'd  Hermione and Cadmus, or the God  In Epidaurus; nor to which transformd  Ammonian Jove, or Capitoline was seen,  Hee with Olympias, this with her who bore  Scipio the highth of Rome. With tract oblique                       510  At first, as one who sought access, but feard  To interrupt, side-long he works his way.  As when a Ship by skilful Stearsman wrought  Nigh Rivers mouth or Foreland, where the Wind  Veres oft, as oft so steers, and shifts her Saile;  So varied hee, and of his tortuous Traine  Curld many a wanton wreath in sight of Eve,  To lure her Eye; shee busied heard the sound  Of rusling Leaves, but minded not, as us'd  To such disport before her through the Field,                       520  From every Beast, more duteous at her call,  Then at Circean call the Herd disguis'd.  Hee boulder now, uncall'd before her stood;  But as in gaze admiring: Oft he bowd  His turret Crest, and sleek enamel'd Neck,  Fawning, and lick'd the ground whereon she trod.  His gentle dumb expression turnd at length  The Eye of Eve to mark his play; he glad  Of her attention gaind, with Serpent Tongue  Organic, or impulse of vocal Air,                                   530  His fraudulent temptation thus began.  Wonder not, sovran Mistress, if perhaps  Thou canst, who art sole Wonder, much less arm  Thy looks, the Heav'n of mildness, with disdain,  Displeas'd that I approach thee thus, and gaze  Insatiate, I thus single; nor have feard  Thy awful brow, more awful thus retir'd.  Fairest resemblance of thy Maker faire,  Thee all things living gaze on, all things thine  By gift, and thy Celestial Beautie adore                            540  With ravishment beheld, there best beheld  Where universally admir'd; but here  In this enclosure wild, these Beasts among,  Beholders rude, and shallow to discerne  Half what in thee is fair, one man except,  Who sees thee? (and what is one?) who shouldst be seen  A Goddess among Gods, ador'd and serv'd  By Angels numberless, thy daily Train.  So gloz'd the Tempter, and his Proem tun'd;  Into the Heart of Eve his words made way,                           550  Though at the voice much marveling; at length  Not unamaz'd she thus in answer spake.  What may this mean? Language of Man pronounc't  By Tongue of Brute, and human sense exprest?  The first at lest of these I thought deni'd  To Beasts, whom God on their Creation-Day  Created mute to all articulat sound;  The latter I demurre, for in thir looks  Much reason, and in thir actions oft appeers.  Thee, Serpent, suttlest beast of all the field                      560  I knew, but not with human voice endu'd;  Redouble then this miracle, and say,  How cam'st thou speakable of mute, and how  To me so friendly grown above the rest  Of brutal kind, that daily are in sight?  Say, for such wonder claims attention due.  To whom the guileful Tempter thus reply'd.  Empress of this fair World, resplendent Eve,  Easie to mee it is to tell thee all  What thou commandst, and right thou shouldst be obeyd:              570  I was at first as other Beasts that graze  The trodden Herb, of abject thoughts and low,  As was my food, nor aught but food discern'd  Or Sex, and apprehended nothing high:  Till on a day roaving the field, I chanc'd  A goodly Tree farr distant to behold  Loaden with fruit of fairest colours mixt,  Ruddie and Gold: I nearer drew to gaze;  When from the boughes a savorie odour blow'n,  Grateful to appetite, more pleas'd my sense                         580  Then smell of sweetest Fenel, or the Teats  Of Ewe or Goat dropping with Milk at Eevn,  Unsuckt of Lamb or Kid, that tend thir play.  To satisfie the sharp desire I had  Of tasting those fair Apples, I resolv'd  Not to deferr; hunger and thirst at once,  Powerful perswaders, quick'nd at the scent  Of that alluring fruit, urg'd me so keene.  About the Mossie Trunk I wound me soon,  For high from ground the branches would require                     590  Thy utmost reach or Adams: Round the Tree  All other Beasts that saw, with like desire  Longing and envying stood, but could not reach.  Amid the Tree now got, where plentie hung  Tempting so nigh, to pluck and eat my fill  I spar'd not, for such pleasure till that hour  At Feed or Fountain never had I found.  Sated at length, ere long I might perceave  Strange alteration in me, to degree  Of Reason in my inward Powers, and Speech                           600  Wanted not long, though to this shape retaind.  Thenceforth to Speculations high or deep  I turnd my thoughts, and with capacious mind  Considerd all things visible in Heav'n,  Or Earth, or Middle, all things fair and good;  But all that fair and good in thy Divine  Semblance, and in thy Beauties heav'nly Ray  United I beheld; no Fair to thine  Equivalent or second, which compel'd  Mee thus, though importune perhaps, to come                         610  And gaze, and worship thee of right declar'd  Sovran of Creatures, universal Dame.  So talk'd the spirited sly Snake; and Eve  Yet more amaz'd unwarie thus reply'd.  Serpent, thy overpraising leaves in doubt  The vertue of that Fruit, in thee first prov'd:  But say, where grows the Tree, from hence how far?  For many are the Trees of God that grow  In Paradise, and various, yet unknown  To us, in such abundance lies our choice,                           620  As leaves a greater store of Fruit untoucht,  Still hanging incorruptible, till men  Grow up to thir provision, and more hands  Help to disburden Nature of her Bearth.  To whom the wilie Adder, blithe and glad.  Empress, the way is readie, and not long,  Beyond a row of Myrtles, on a Flat,  Fast by a Fountain, one small Thicket past  Of blowing Myrrh and Balme; if thou accept  My conduct, I can bring thee thither soon.                          630  Lead then, said Eve. Hee leading swiftly rowld  In tangles, and make intricate seem strait,  To mischief swift. Hope elevates, and joy  Bright'ns his Crest, as when a wandring Fire  Compact of unctuous vapor, which the Night  Condenses, and the cold invirons round,  Kindl'd through agitation to a Flame,  Which oft, they say, some evil Spirit attends,  Hovering and blazing with delusive Light,  Misleads th' amaz'd Night-wanderer from his way                     640  To Boggs and Mires, & oft through Pond or Poole,  There swallow'd up and lost, from succour farr.  So glister'd the dire Snake and into fraud  Led Eve our credulous Mother, to the Tree  Of prohibition, root of all our woe;  Which when she saw, thus to her guide she spake.  Serpent, we might have spar'd our coming hither,  Fruitless to me, though Fruit be here to excess,  The credit of whose vertue rest with thee,  Wondrous indeed, if cause of such effects.                          650  But of this Tree we may not taste nor touch;  God so commanded, and left that Command  Sole Daughter of his voice; the rest, we live  Law to our selves, our Reason is our Law.  To whom the Tempter guilefully repli'd.  Indeed? hath God then said that of the Fruit  Of all these Garden Trees ye shall not eate,  Yet Lords declar'd of all in Earth or Aire?  To whom thus Eve yet sinless. Of the Fruit  Of each Tree in the Garden we may eate,                             660  But of the Fruit of this fair Tree amidst  The Garden, God hath said, Ye shall not eate  Thereof, nor shall ye touch it, least ye die.  She scarse had said, though brief, when now more bold  The Tempter, but with shew of Zeale and Love  To Man, and indignation at his wrong,  New part puts on, and as to passion mov'd,  Fluctuats disturbd, yet comely, and in act  Rais'd, as of som great matter to begin.  As when of old som Orator renound                                   670  In Athens or free Rome, where Eloquence  Flourishd, since mute, to som great cause addrest,  Stood in himself collected, while each part,  Motion, each act won audience ere the tongue,  Somtimes in highth began, as no delay  Of Preface brooking through his Zeal of Right.  So standing, moving, or to highth upgrown  The Tempter all impassiond thus began.  O Sacred, Wise, and Wisdom-giving Plant,  Mother of Science, Now I feel thy Power                             680  Within me cleere, not onely to discerne  Things in thir Causes, but to trace the wayes  Of highest Agents, deemd however wise.  Queen of this Universe, doe not believe  Those rigid threats of Death; ye shall not Die:  How should ye? by the Fruit? it gives you Life  To Knowledge? By the Threatner, look on mee,  Mee who have touch'd and tasted, yet both live,  And life more perfet have attaind then Fate  Meant mee, by ventring higher then my Lot.                          690  Shall that be shut to Man, which to the Beast  Is open? or will God incense his ire  For such a pretty Trespass, and not praise  Rather your dauntless vertue, whom the pain  Of Death denounc't, whatever thing Death be,  Deterrd not from atchieving what might leade  To happier life, knowledge of Good and Evil;  Of good, how just? of evil, if what is evil  Be real, why not known, since easier shunnd?  God therefore cannot hurt ye, and be just;                          700  Not just, not God; not feard then, nor obeid:  Your feare it self of Death removes the feare.  Why then was this forbid? Why but to awe,  Why but to keep ye low and ignorant,  His worshippers; he knows that in the day  Ye Eate thereof, your Eyes that seem so cleere,  Yet are but dim, shall perfetly be then  Op'nd and cleerd, and ye shall be as Gods,  Knowing both Good and Evil as they know.  That ye should be as Gods, since I as Man,                          710  Internal Man, is but proportion meet,  I of brute human, yee of human Gods.  So ye shall die perhaps, by putting off  Human, to put on Gods, death to be wisht,  Though threat'nd, which no worse then this can bring  And what are Gods that Man may not become  As they, participating God-like food?  The Gods are first, and that advantage use  On our belief, that all from them proceeds,  I question it, for this fair Earth I see,                           720  Warm'd by the Sun, producing every kind,  Them nothing: If they all things, who enclos'd  Knowledge of Good and Evil in this Tree,  That whoso eats thereof, forthwith attains  Wisdom without their leave? and wherein lies  Th' offence, that Man should thus attain to know?  What can your knowledge hurt him, or this Tree  Impart against his will if all be his?  Or is it envie, and can envie dwell  In heav'nly brests? these, these and many more                      730  Causes import your need of this fair Fruit.  Goddess humane, reach then, and freely taste.  He ended, and his words replete with guile  Into her heart too easie entrance won:  Fixt on the Fruit she gaz'd, which to behold  Might tempt alone, and in her ears the sound  Yet rung of his perswasive words, impregn'd  With Reason, to her seeming, and with Truth;  Meanwhile the hour of Noon drew on, and wak'd  An eager appetite, rais'd by the smell                              740  So savorie of that Fruit, which with desire,  Inclinable now grown to touch or taste,  Sollicited her longing eye; yet first  Pausing a while, thus to her self she mus'd.  Great are thy Vertues, doubtless, best of Fruits,  Though kept from Man, & worthy to be admir'd,  Whose taste, too long forborn, at first assay  Gave elocution to the mute, and taught  The Tongue not made for Speech to speak thy praise:  Thy praise hee also who forbids thy use,                            750  Conceales not from us, naming thee the Tree  Of Knowledge, knowledge both of good and evil;  Forbids us then to taste, but his forbidding  Commends thee more, while it inferrs the good  By thee communicated, and our want:  For good unknown, sure is not had, or had  And yet unknown, is as not had at all.  In plain then, what forbids he but to know,  Forbids us good, forbids us to be wise?  Such prohibitions binde not. But if Death                           760  Bind us with after-bands, what profits then  Our inward freedom? In the day we eate  Of this fair Fruit, our doom is, we shall die.  How dies the Serpent? hee hath eat'n and lives,  And knows, and speaks, and reasons, and discernes,  Irrational till then. For us alone  Was death invented? or to us deni'd  This intellectual food, for beasts reserv'd?  For Beasts it seems: yet that one Beast which first  Hath tasted, envies not, but brings with joy                        770  The good befall'n him, Author unsuspect,  Friendly to man, farr from deceit or guile.  What fear I then, rather what know to feare  Under this ignorance of Good and Evil,  Of God or Death, of Law or Penaltie?  Here grows the Cure of all, this Fruit Divine,  Fair to the Eye, inviting to the Taste,  Of vertue to make wise: what hinders then  To reach, and feed at once both Bodie and Mind?  So saying, her rash hand in evil hour                               780  Forth reaching to the Fruit, she pluck'd, she eat:  Earth felt the wound, and Nature from her seat  Sighing through all her Works gave signs of woe,
364s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

That all was lost. Back to the Thicket slunk  The guiltie Serpent, and well might, for Eve  Intent now wholly on her taste, naught else  Regarded, such delight till then, as seemd,  In Fruit she never tasted, whether true  Or fansied so, through expectation high  Of knowledg, nor was God-head from her thought.                     790  Greedily she ingorg'd without restraint,  And knew not eating Death: Satiate at length,  And hight'nd as with Wine, jocond and boon,  Thus to her self she pleasingly began.  O Sovran, vertuous, precious of all Trees  In Paradise, of operation blest  To Sapience, hitherto obscur'd, infam'd,  And thy fair Fruit let hang, as to no end  Created; but henceforth my early care,  Not without Song, each Morning, and due praise                      800  Shall tend thee, and the fertil burden ease  Of thy full branches offer'd free to all;  Till dieted by thee I grow mature  In knowledge, as the Gods who all things know;  Though others envie what they cannot give;  For had the gift bin theirs, it had not here  Thus grown. Experience, next to thee I owe,  Best guide; not following thee, I had remaind  In ignorance, thou op'nst Wisdoms way,  And giv'st access, though secret she retire.                        810  And I perhaps am secret; Heav'n is high,  High and remote to see from thence distinct  Each thing on Earth; and other care perhaps  May have diverted from continual watch  Our great Forbidder, safe with all his Spies  About him. But to Adam in what sort  Shall I appeer? shall I to him make known  As yet my change, and give him to partake  Full happiness with mee, or rather not,  But keep the odds of Knowledge in my power                          820  Without Copartner? so to add what wants  In Femal Sex, the more to draw his Love,  And render me more equal, and perhaps  A thing not undesireable, somtime  Superior; for inferior who is free?  This may be well: but what if God have seen,  And Death ensue? then I shall be no more,  And Adam wedded to another Eve,  Shall live with her enjoying, I extinct;  A death to think. Confirm'd then I resolve,                         830  Adam shall share with me in bliss or woe:  So dear I love him, that with him all deaths  I could endure; without him live no life.  So saying, from the Tree her step she turnd,  But first low Reverence don, as to the power  That dwelt within, whose presence had infus'd  Into the plant sciential sap, deriv'd  From Nectar, drink of Gods. Adam the while  Waiting desirous her return, had wove  Of choicest Flours a Garland to adorne                              840  Her Tresses, and her rural labours crown  As Reapers oft are wont thir Harvest Queen.  Great joy he promis'd to his thoughts, and new  Solace in her return, so long delay'd;  Yet oft his heart, divine of somthing ill,  Misgave him; hee the faultring measure felt;  And forth to meet her went, the way she took  That Morn when first they parted; by the Tree  Of Knowledge he must pass, there he her met,  Scarse from the Tree returning; in her hand                         850  A bough of fairest fruit that downie smil'd,  New gatherd, and ambrosial smell diffus'd.  To him she hasted, in her face excuse  Came Prologue, and Apologie to prompt,  Which with bland words at will she thus addrest.  Hast thou not wonderd, Adam, at my stay?  Thee I have misst, and thought it long, depriv'd  Thy presence, agonie of love till now  Not felt, nor shall be twice, for never more  Mean I to trie, what rash untri'd I sought,                         860  The paine of absence from thy sight. But strange  Hath bin the cause, and wonderful to heare:  This Tree is not as we are told, a Tree  Of danger tasted, nor to evil unknown  Op'ning the way, but of Divine effect  To open Eyes, and make them Gods who taste;  And hath bin tasted such; the Serpent wise,  Or not restraind as wee, or not obeying,  Hath eat'n of the fruit, and is become,  Not dead, as we are threatn'd, but thenceforth                      870  Endu'd with human voice and human sense,  Reasoning to admiration, and with mee  Perswasively hath so prevaild, that I  Have also tasted, and have also found  Th' effects to correspond, opener mine Eyes,  Dimm erst, dilated Spirits, ampler Heart,  And growing up to Godhead; which for thee  Chiefly I sought, without thee can despise.  For bliss, as thou hast part, to me is bliss,  Tedious, unshar'd with thee, and odious soon.                       880  Thou therefore also taste, that equal Lot  May joyne us, equal Joy, as equal Love;  Least thou not tasting, different degree  Disjoyne us, and I then too late renounce  Deitie for thee, when Fate will not permit.  Thus Eve with Countnance blithe her storie told;  But in her Cheek distemper flushing glowd.  On th' other side, Adam, soon as he heard  The fatal Trespass don by Eve, amaz'd,  Astonied stood and Blank, while horror chill                        890  Ran through his veins, and all his joynts relax'd;  From his slack hand the Garland wreath'd for Eve  Down drop'd, and all the faded Roses shed:  Speechless he stood and pale, till thus at length  First to himself he inward silence broke.  O fairest of Creation, last and best  Of all Gods Works, Creature in whom excell'd  Whatever can to sight or thought be found,  Holy, divine, good, amiable, or sweet!  How art thou lost, how on a sudden lost,                            900  Defac't, deflourd, and now to Death devote?  Rather how hast thou yeelded to transgress  The strict forbiddance, how to violate  The sacred Fruit forbidd'n! som cursed fraud  Of Enemie hath beguil'd thee, yet unknown,  And mee with thee hath ruind, for with thee  Certain my resolution is to Die;  How can I live without thee, how forgoe  Thy sweet Converse and Love so dearly joyn'd,  To live again in these wilde Woods forlorn?                         910  Should God create another Eve, and I  Another Rib afford, yet loss of thee  Would never from my heart; no no, I feel  The Link of Nature draw me: Flesh of Flesh,  Bone of my Bone thou art, and from thy State  Mine never shall be parted, bliss or woe.  So having said, as one from sad dismay  Recomforted, and after thoughts disturbd  Submitting to what seemd remediless,  Thus in calme mood his Words to Eve he turnd.                       920  Bold deed thou hast presum'd, adventrous Eve,  And peril great provok't, who thus hast dar'd  Had it bin onely coveting to Eye  That sacred Fruit, sacred to abstinence,  Much more to taste it under banne to touch.  But past who can recall, or don undoe?  Not God omnipotent, nor Fate, yet so  Perhaps thou shalt not Die, perhaps the Fact  Is not so hainous now, foretasted Fruit,  Profan'd first by the Serpent, by him first                         930  Made common and unhallowd: ere our taste  Nor yet on him found deadly; he yet lives,  Lives, as thou saidst, and gaines to live as Man  Higher degree of Life, inducement strong  To us, as likely tasting to attaine  Proportional ascent, which cannot be  But to be Gods, or Angels Demi-gods.  Nor can I think that God, Creator wise,  Though threatning, will in earnest so destroy  Us his prime Creatures, dignifi'd so high,                          940  Set over all his Works, which in our Fall,  For us created, needs with us must faile,  Dependent made; so God shall uncreate,  Be frustrate, do, undo, and labour loose,  Not well conceav'd of God, who though his Power  Creation could repeate, yet would be loath  Us to abolish, least the Adversary  Triumph and say; Fickle their State whom God  Most Favors, who can please him long? Mee first  He ruind, now Mankind; whom will he next?                           950  Matter of scorne, not to be given the Foe.  However I with thee have fixt my Lot,  Certain to undergoe like doom, if Death  Consort with thee, Death is to mee as Life;  So forcible within my heart I feel  The Bond of Nature draw me to my owne,  My own in thee, for what thou art is mine;  Our State cannot be severd, we are one,  One Flesh; to loose thee were to loose my self.  So Adam, and thus Eve to him repli'd.                               960  O glorious trial of exceeding Love,  Illustrious evidence, example high!  Ingaging me to emulate, but short  Of thy perfection, how shall I attaine,  Adam, from whose deare side I boast me sprung,  And gladly of our Union heare thee speak,  One Heart, one Soul in both; whereof good prooff  This day affords, declaring thee resolvd,  Rather then Death or aught then Death more dread  Shall separate us, linkt in Love so deare,                          970  To undergoe with mee one Guilt, one Crime,  If any be, of tasting this fair Fruit,  Whose vertue, for of good still good proceeds,  Direct, or by occasion hath presented  This happie trial of thy Love, which else  So eminently never had bin known.  Were it I thought Death menac't would ensue  This my attempt, I would sustain alone  The worst, and not perswade thee, rather die  Deserted, then oblige thee with a fact                              980  Pernicious to thy Peace, chiefly assur'd  Remarkably so late of thy so true,  So faithful Love unequald; but I feel  Farr otherwise th' event, not Death, but Life  Augmented, op'nd Eyes, new Hopes, new Joyes,  Taste so Divine, that what of sweet before  Hath toucht my sense, flat seems to this, and harsh.  On my experience, Adam, freely taste,  And fear of Death deliver to the Windes.  So saying, she embrac'd him, and for joy                            990  Tenderly wept, much won that he his Love  Had so enobl'd, as of choice to incurr  Divine displeasure for her sake, or Death.  In recompence (for such compliance bad  Such recompence best merits) from the bough  She gave him of that fair enticing Fruit  With liberal hand: he scrupl'd not to eat  Against his better knowledge, not deceav'd,  But fondly overcome with Femal charm.  Earth trembl'd from her entrails, as again                         1000  In pangs, and Nature gave a second groan,  Skie lowr'd, and muttering Thunder, som sad drops  Wept at compleating of the mortal Sin  Original; while Adam took no thought,  Eating his fill, nor Eve to iterate  Her former trespass fear'd, the more to soothe  Him with her lov'd societie, that now  As with new Wine intoxicated both  They swim in mirth, and fansie that they feel  Divinitie within them breeding wings                               1010  Wherewith to scorn the Earth: but that false Fruit  Farr other operation first displaid,  Carnal desire enflaming, hee on Eve  Began to cast lascivious Eyes, she him  As wantonly repaid; in Lust they burne:  Till Adam thus 'gan Eve to dalliance move.  Eve, now I see thou art exact of taste,  And elegant, of Sapience no small part,  Since to each meaning savour we apply,  And Palate call judicious; I the praise                            1020  Yeild thee, so well this day thou hast purvey'd.  Much pleasure we have lost, while we abstain'd  From this delightful Fruit, nor known till now  True relish, tasting; if such pleasure be  In things to us forbidden, it might be wish'd,  For this one Tree had bin forbidden ten.  But come, so well refresh't, now let us play,  As meet is, after such delicious Fare;  For never did thy Beautie since the day  I saw thee first and wedded thee, adorn'd                          1030  With all perfections, so enflame my sense  With ardor to enjoy thee, fairer now  Then ever, bountie of this vertuous Tree.  So said he, and forbore not glance or toy  Of amorous intent, well understood  Of Eve, whose Eye darted contagious Fire.  Her hand he seis'd, and to a shadie bank,  Thick overhead with verdant roof imbowr'd  He led her nothing loath; Flours were the Couch,  Pansies, and Violets, and Asphodel,                                1040  And Hyacinth, Earths freshest softest lap.  There they thir fill of Love and Loves disport  Took largely, of thir mutual guilt the Seale,  The solace of thir sin, till dewie sleep  Oppress'd them, wearied with thir amorous play.  Soon as the force of that fallacious Fruit,  That with exhilerating vapour bland  About thir spirits had plaid, and inmost powers  Made erre, was now exhal'd, and grosser sleep  Bred of unkindly fumes, with conscious dreams                      1050  Encumberd, now had left them, up they rose  As from unrest, and each the other viewing,  Soon found thir Eyes how op'nd, and thir minds  How dark'nd; innocence, that as a veile  Had shadow'd them from knowing ill, was gon,  Just confidence, and native righteousness,  And honour from about them, naked left  To guiltie shame hee cover'd, but his Robe  Uncover'd more. So rose the Danite strong  Herculean Samson from the Harlot-lap                               1060  Of Philistean Dalilah, and wak'd  Shorn of his strength, They destitute and bare  Of all thir vertue: silent, and in face  Confounded long they sate, as struck'n mute,  Till Adam, though not less then Eve abasht,  At length gave utterance to these words constraind.  O Eve, in evil hour thou didst give eare  To that false Worm, of whomsoever taught  To counterfet Mans voice, true in our Fall,  False in our promis'd Rising; since our Eyes                       1070  Op'nd we find indeed, and find we know  Both Good and Evil, Good lost and Evil got,  Bad Fruit of Knowledge, if this be to know,  Which leaves us naked thus, of Honour void,  Of Innocence, of Faith, of Puritie,  Our wonted Ornaments now soild and staind,  And in our Faces evident the signes  Of foul concupiscence; whence evil store;  Even shame, the last of evils; of the first  Be sure then. How shall I behold the face                          1080  Henceforth of God or Angel, earst with joy  And rapture so oft beheld? those heav'nly shapes  Will dazle now this earthly, with thir blaze  Insufferably bright. O might I here  In solitude live savage, in some glad  Obscur'd, where highest Woods impenetrable  To Starr or Sun-light, spread thir umbrage broad,  And brown as Evening: Cover me ye Pines,  Ye Cedars, with innumerable boughs  Hide me, where I may never see them more.                          1090  But let us now, as in bad plight, devise  What best may for the present serve to hide  The Parts of each from other, that seem most  To shame obnoxious, and unseemliest seen,  Some Tree whose broad smooth Leaves together sowd,  And girded on our loyns, may cover round  Those middle parts, that this new commer, Shame,  There sit not, and reproach us as unclean.  So counsel'd hee, and both together went  Into the thickest Wood, there soon they chose                      1100  The Figtree, not that kind for Fruit renown'd,  But such as at this day to Indians known  In Malabar or Decan spreds her Armes  Braunching so broad and long, that in the ground  The bended Twigs take root, and Daughters grow  About the Mother Tree, a Pillard shade  High overarch't, and echoing Walks between;  There oft the Indian Herdsman shunning heate  Shelters in coole, and tends his pasturing Herds  At Loopholes cut through thickest shade: Those Leaves              1110  They gatherd, broad as Amazonian Targe,  And with what skill they had, together sowd,  To gird thir waste, vain Covering if to hide  Thir guilt and dreaded shame; O how unlike  To that first naked Glorie. Such of late  Columbus found th' American so girt  With featherd Cincture, naked else and wilde  Among the Trees on Iles and woodie Shores.  Thus fenc't, and as they thought, thir shame in part  Coverd, but not at rest or ease of Mind,                           1120  They sate them down to weep, nor onely Teares  Raind at thir Eyes, but high Winds worse within  Began to rise, high Passions, Anger, Hate,
365s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

Mistrust, Suspicion, Discord, and shook sore  Thir inward State of Mind, calme Region once  And full of Peace, now tost and turbulent:  For Understanding rul'd not, and the Will  Heard not her lore, both in subjection now  To sensual Appetite, who from beneathe  Usurping over sovran Reason claimd                                 1130  Superior sway: From thus distemperd brest,  Adam, estrang'd in look and alterd stile,  Speech intermitted thus to Eve renewd.  Would thou hadst heark'nd to my words, & stai'd  With me, as I besought thee, when that strange  Desire of wandring this unhappie Morn,  I know not whence possessd thee; we had then  Remaind still happie, not as now, despoild  Of all our good, sham'd, naked, miserable.  Let none henceforth seek needless cause to approve                 1140  The Faith they owe; when earnestly they seek  Such proof, conclude, they then begin to faile.  To whom soon mov'd with touch of blame thus Eve.  What words have past thy Lips, Adam severe,  Imput'st thou that to my default, or will  Of wandering, as thou call'st it, which who knows  But might as ill have happ'nd thou being by,  Or to thy self perhaps: hadst thou bin there,  Or here th' attempt, thou couldst not have discernd  Fraud in the Serpent, speaking as he spake;                        1150  No ground of enmitie between us known,  Why hee should mean me ill, or seek to harme.  Was I to have never parted from thy side?  As good have grown there still a liveless Rib.  Being as I am, why didst not thou the Head  Command me absolutely not to go,  Going into such danger as thou saidst?  Too facil then thou didst not much gainsay,  Nay, didst permit, approve, and fair dismiss.  Hadst thou bin firm and fixt in thy dissent,                       1160  Neither had I transgress'd, nor thou with mee.  To whom then first incenst Adam repli'd.  Is this the Love, is the recompence  Of mine to thee, ingrateful Eve, exprest  Immutable when thou wert lost, not I,  Who might have liv'd and joyd immortal bliss,  Yet willingly chose rather Death with thee:  And am I now upbraided, as the cause  Of thy transgressing? not enough severe,  It seems, in thy restraint: what could I more?                     1170  I warn'd thee, I admonish'd thee, foretold  The danger, and the lurking Enemie  That lay in wait; beyond this had bin force,  And force upon free Will hath here no place.  But confidence then bore thee on, secure  Either to meet no danger, or to finde  Matter of glorious trial; and perhaps  I also err'd in overmuch admiring  What seemd in thee so perfet, that I thought  No evil durst attempt thee, but I rue                              1180  That errour now, which is become my crime,  And thou th' accuser. Thus it shall befall  Him who to worth in Women overtrusting  Lets her Will rule; restraint she will not brook,  And left to her self, if evil thence ensue,  Shee first his weak indulgence will accuse.  Thus they in mutual accusation spent  The fruitless hours, but neither self-condemning  And of thir vain contest appeer'd no end.  Notes:  186 not] nor 1674.  213 hear] bear 1674.  394 Likest] likeliest 1674.  922 hast] hath 1674.  The End Of The Ninth Book.





BOOK X.

THE ARGUMENT.

Mans transgression known, the Guardian Angels forsakeParadise, and return up to Heaven to approve thir vigilance, andare approv'd, God declaring that The entrance of Satan could notbe by them prevented. He sends his Son to judge theTransgressors, who descends and gives Sentence accordingly; thenin pity cloaths them both, and reascends. Sin and Death sittingtill then at the Gates of Hell by wondrous sympathie feeling thesuccess of Satan in this new World, and the sin by Man therecommitted, resolve to sit no longer confin'd in Hell, but tofollow Satan thir Sire up to the place of Man: To make the wayeasier from Hell to this World to and fro, they pave a broadHighway or Bridge over Chaos, according to the Track that Satanfirst made; then preparing for Earth, they meet him proud of hissuccess returning to Hell; thir mutual gratulation. Satan arrivesat Pandemonium, in full assembly relates with boasting hissuccess against Man; instead of applause is entertained with ageneral hiss by all his audience, transform'd with himself alsosuddenly into Serpents, according to his doom giv'n in Paradise;then deluded with a shew of the forbidden Tree springing upbefore them, they greedily reaching to take of the Fruit, chewdust and bitter ashes.The proceedings of Sin and Death; Godforetels the final Victory of his Son over them, and the renewingof all things; but for the present commands his Angels to makeseveral alterations in the Heavens and Elements. Adam more andmore perceiving his fall'n condition heavily bewailes, rejectsthe condolement of Eve; she persists and at length appeases him:then to evade the Curse likely to fall on thir Ofspring, proposesto Adam violent wayes, which he approves not, but conceivingbetter hope, puts her in mind of the late Promise made them, thather Seed should be reveng'd on the Serpent, and exhorts her withhim to seek Peace of the offended Deity, by repentance andsupplication.

Meanwhile the hainous and despightfull act  Of Satan done in Paradise, and how  Hee in the Serpent had perverted Eve,  Her Husband shee, to taste the fatall fruit,  Was known in Heav'n; for what can scape the Eye  Of God All-seeing, or deceave his Heart  Omniscient, who in all things wise and just,  Hinder'd not Satan to attempt the minde  Of Man, with strength entire, and free Will arm'd,  Complete to have discover'd and repulst                              10  Whatever wiles of Foe or seeming Friend.  For still they knew, and ought to have still remember'd  The high Injunction not to taste that Fruit,  Whoever tempted; which they not obeying,  Incurr'd, what could they less, the penaltie,  And manifold in sin, deserv'd to fall.  Up into Heav'n from Paradise in hast  Th' Angelic Guards ascended, mute and sad  For Man, for of his state by this they knew,  Much wondring how the suttle Fiend had stoln                         20  Entrance unseen. Soon as th' unwelcome news  From Earth arriv'd at Heaven Gate, displeas'd  All were who heard, dim sadness did not spare  That time Celestial visages, yet mixt  With pitie, violated not thir bliss.  About the new-arriv'd, in multitudes  Th' ethereal People ran, to hear and know  How all befell: they towards the Throne Supream  Accountable made haste to make appear  With righteous plea, thir utmost vigilance,                          30  And easily approv'd; when the most High  Eternal Father from his secret Cloud,  Amidst in Thunder utter'd thus his voice.  Assembl'd Angels, and ye Powers return'd  From unsuccessful charge, be not dismaid,  Nor troubl'd at these tidings from the Earth,  Which your sincerest care could not prevent,  Foretold so lately what would come to pass,  When first this Tempter cross'd the Gulf from Hell.  I told ye then he should prevail and speed                           40  On his bad Errand, Man should be seduc't  And flatter'd out of all, believing lies  Against his Maker; no Decree of mine  Concurring to necessitate his Fall,  Or touch with lightest moment of impulse  His free Will, to her own inclining left  In eevn scale. But fall'n he is, and now  What rests, but that the mortal Sentence pass  On his transgression, Death denounc't that day,  Which he presumes already vain and void,                             50  Because not yet inflicted, as he fear'd,  By some immediate stroak; but soon shall find  Forbearance no acquittance ere day end.  Justice shall not return as bountie scorn'd.  But whom send I to judge them? whom but thee  Vicegerent Son, to thee I have transferr'd  All Judgement, whether in Heav'n, or Earth; or Hell.  Easie it may be seen that I intend  Mercie collegue with Justice, sending thee  Mans Friend, his Mediator, his design'd                              60  Both Ransom and Redeemer voluntarie,  And destin'd Man himself to judge Man fall'n.  So spake the Father, and unfoulding bright  Toward the right hand his Glorie, on the Son  Blaz'd forth unclouded Deitie; he full  Resplendent all his Father manifest  Express'd, and thus divinely answer'd milde.  Father Eternal, thine is to decree,  Mine both in Heav'n and Earth to do thy will  Supream, that thou in mee thy Son belov'd                            70  Mayst ever rest well pleas'd. I go to judge  On Earth these thy transgressors, but thou knowst,  Whoever judg'd, the worst on mee must light,  When time shall be, for so I undertook  Before thee; and not repenting, this obtaine  Of right, that I may mitigate thir doom  On me deriv'd, yet I shall temper so  Justice with Mercie, as may illustrate most  Them fully satisfied, and thee appease.  Attendance none shall need, nor Train, where none                    80  Are to behold the Judgement, but the judg'd,  Those two; the third best absent is condemn'd,  Convict by flight, and Rebel to all Law  Conviction to the Serpent none belongs.  Thus saying, from his radiant Seat he rose  Of high collateral glorie: him Thrones and Powers,  Princedoms, and Dominations ministrant  Accompanied to Heaven Gate, from whence  Eden and all the Coast in prospect lay.  Down he descended strait; the speed of Gods                          90  Time counts not, though with swiftest minutes wing'd.  Now was the Sun in Western cadence low  From Noon, and gentle Aires due at thir hour  To fan the Earth now wak'd, and usher in  The Eevning coole when he from wrauth more coole  Came the mild Judge and Intercessor both  To sentence Man: the voice of God they heard  Now walking in the Garden, by soft windes  Brought to thir Ears, while day declin'd, they heard  And from his presence hid themselves among                          100  The thickest Trees, both Man and Wife, till God  Approaching, thus to Adam call'd aloud.
387s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

Where art thou Adam, wont with joy to meet  My coming seen far off? I miss thee here,  Not pleas'd, thus entertaind with solitude,  Where obvious dutie erewhile appear'd unsaught:  Or come I less conspicuous, or what change  Absents thee, or what chance detains? Come forth.  He came, and with him Eve, more loth, though first  To offend, discount'nanc't both, and discompos'd;                   110  Love was not in thir looks, either to God  Or to each other, but apparent guilt,  And shame, and perturbation, and despaire,  Anger, and obstinacie, and hate, and guile.  Whence Adam faultring long, thus answer'd brief.  I heard thee in the Garden, and of thy voice  Affraid, being naked, hid my self. To whom  The gracious Judge without revile repli'd.  My voice thou oft hast heard, and hast not fear'd,  But still rejoyc't, how is it now become                            120  So dreadful to thee? that thou art naked, who  Hath told thee? hast thou eaten of the Tree  Whereof I gave thee charge thou shouldst not eat?  To whom thus Adam sore beset repli'd.  O Heav'n! in evil strait this day I stand  Before my Judge, either to undergoe  My self the total Crime, or to accuse  My other self, the partner of my life;  Whose failing, while her Faith to me remaines,  I should conceal, and not expose to blame                           130  By my complaint; but strict necessitie  Subdues me, and calamitous constraint,  Least on my head both sin and punishment,  However insupportable, be all  Devolv'd; though should I hold my peace, yet thou  Wouldst easily detect what I conceale.  This Woman whom thou mad'st to be my help,  And gav'st me as thy perfet gift, so good,  So fit, so acceptable, so Divine,  That from her hand I could suspect no ill,                          140  And what she did, whatever in it self,  Her doing seem'd to justifie the deed;  Shee gave me of the Tree, and I did eate.  To whom the sovran Presence thus repli'd.  Was shee thy God, that her thou didst obey  Before his voice, or was shee made thy guide,  Superior, or but equal, that to her  Thou did'st resigne thy Manhood, and the Place  Wherein God set thee above her made of thee,  And for thee, whose perfection farr excell'd                        150  Hers in all real dignitie: Adornd  She was indeed, and lovely to attract  Thy Love, not thy Subjection, and her Gifts  Were such as under Government well seem'd,  Unseemly to beare rule, which was thy part  And person, had'st thou known thy self aright.  So having said, he thus to Eve in few:  Say Woman, what is this which thou hast done?  To whom sad Eve with shame nigh overwhelm'd,  Confessing soon, yet not before her Judge                           160  Bold or loquacious, thus abasht repli'd.  The Serpent me beguil'd and I did eate.  Which when the Lord God heard, without delay  To Judgement he proceeded on th' accus'd  Serpent though brute, unable to transferre  The Guilt on him who made him instrument  Of mischief, and polluted from the end  Of his Creation; justly then accurst,  As vitiated in Nature: more to know  Concern'd not Man (since he no further knew)                        170  Nor alter'd his offence; yet God at last  To Satan first in sin his doom apply'd,  Though in mysterious terms, judg'd as then best:  And on the Serpent thus his curse let fall.  Because thou hast done this, thou art accurst  Above all Cattel, each Beast of the Field;  Upon thy Belly groveling thou shalt goe,  And dust shalt eat all the days of thy Life.  Between Thee and the Woman I will put  Enmitie, and between thine and her Seed;                            180  Her Seed shall bruise thy head, thou bruise his heel.  So spake this Oracle, then verifi'd  When Jesus son of Mary second Eve,  Saw Satan fall like Lightning down from Heav'n,  Prince of the Aire; then rising from his Grave  Spoild Principalities and Powers, triumpht  In open shew, and with ascention bright  Captivity led captive through the Aire,  The Realme it self of Satan long usurpt,  Whom he shall tread at last under our feet;                         190  Eevn hee who now foretold his fatal bruise,  And to the Woman thus his Sentence turn'd.  Thy sorrow I will greatly multiplie  By thy Conception; Children thou shalt bring  In sorrow forth, and to thy Husbands will  Thine shall submit, hee over thee shall rule.  On Adam last thus judgement he pronounc'd.  Because thou hast heark'nd to the voice of thy Wife,  And eaten of the Tree concerning which  I charg'd thee, saying: Thou shalt not eate thereof,                200  Curs'd is the ground for thy sake, thou in sorrow  Shalt eate thereof all the days of thy Life;  Thornes also and Thistles it shall bring thee forth  Unbid, and thou shalt eate th' Herb of th' Field,  In the sweat of thy Face shalt thou eate Bread,  Till thou return unto the ground, for thou  Out of the ground wast taken, know thy Birth,  For dust thou art, and shalt to dust returne.  So judg'd he Man, both Judge and Saviour sent,  And th' instant stroke of Death denounc't that day                  210  Remov'd farr off; then pittying how they stood  Before him naked to the aire, that now  Must suffer change, disdain'd not to begin  Thenceforth the forme of servant to assume,  As when he wash'd his servants feet, so now  As Father of his Familie he clad  Thir nakedness with Skins of Beasts, or slain,  Or as the Snake with youthful Coate repaid;  And thought not much to cloath his Enemies:  Nor hee thir outward onely with the Skins                           220  Of Beasts, but inward nakedness, much more  Opprobrious, with his Robe of righteousness,  Araying cover'd from his Fathers sight.  To him with swift ascent he up returnd,  Into his blissful bosom reassum'd  In glory as of old, to him appeas'd  All, though all-knowing, what had past with Man  Recounted, mixing intercession sweet.  Meanwhile ere thus was sin'd and judg'd on Earth,  Within the Gates of Hell sate Sin and Death,                        230  In counterview within the Gates, that now  Stood open wide, belching outrageous flame  Farr into Chaos, since the Fiend pass'd through,  Sin opening, who thus now to Death began.  O Son, why sit we here each other viewing  Idlely, while Satan our great Author thrives  In other Worlds, and happier Seat provides  For us his ofspring deare? It cannot be  But that success attends him; if mishap,  Ere this he had return'd, with fury driv'n                          240  By his Avenger, since no place like this  Can fit his punishment, or their revenge.  Methinks I feel new strength within me rise,  Wings growing, and Dominion giv'n me large  Beyond this Deep; whatever drawes me on,  Or sympathie, or som connatural force  Powerful at greatest distance to unite  With secret amity things of like kinde  By secretest conveyance. Thou my Shade  Inseparable must with mee along:                                    250  For Death from Sin no power can separate.  But least the difficultie of passing back  Stay his returne perhaps over this Gulfe  Impassable, impervious, let us try  Adventrous work, yet to thy power and mine  Not unagreeable, to found a path  Over this Maine from Hell to that new World  Where Satan now prevailes, a Monument  Of merit high to all th' infernal Host,  Easing thir passage hence, for intercourse,                         260  Or transmigration, as thir lot shall lead.  Nor can I miss the way, so strongly drawn  By this new felt attraction and instinct.  Whom thus the meager Shadow answerd soon.  Goe whither Fate and inclination strong  Leads thee, I shall not lag behinde, nor erre  The way, thou leading, such a sent I draw  Of carnage, prey innumerable, and taste  The savour of Death from all things there that live:  Nor shall I to the work thou enterprisest                           270  Be wanting, but afford thee equal aid.  So saying, with delight he snuff'd the smell  Of mortal change on Earth. As when a flock  Of ravenous Fowl, though many a League remote,  Against the day of Battel, to a Field,  Where Armies lie encampt, come flying, lur'd  With sent of living Carcasses design'd  For death, the following day, in bloodie fight.  So sented the grim Feature, and upturn'd  His Nostril wide into the murkie Air,                               280  Sagacious of his Quarrey from so farr.  Then Both from out Hell Gates into the waste  Wide Anarchie of Chaos damp and dark  Flew divers, & with Power (thir Power was great)  Hovering upon the Waters; what they met  Solid or slimie, as in raging Sea  Tost up and down, together crowded drove  From each side shoaling towards the mouth of Hell.  As when two Polar Winds blowing adverse  Upon the Cronian Sea, together drive                                290  Mountains of Ice, that stop th' imagin'd way  Beyond Petsora Eastward, to the rich  Cathaian Coast. The aggregated Soyle  Death with his Mace petrific, cold and dry,  As with a Trident smote, and fix't as firm  As Delos floating once; the rest his look  Bound with Gorgonian rigor not to move,  And with Asphaltic slime; broad as the Gate,  Deep to the Roots of Hell the gather'd beach  They fasten'd, and the Mole immense wraught on                      300  Over the foaming deep high Archt, a Bridge  Of length prodigious joyning to the Wall  Immoveable of this now fenceless world  Forfeit to Death; from hence a passage broad,  Smooth, easie, inoffensive down to Hell.  So, if great things to small may be compar'd,  Xerxes, the Libertie of Greece to yoke,  From Susa his Memnonian Palace high  Came to the Sea, and over Hellespont  Bridging his way, Europe with Asia joyn'd,                          310  And scourg'd with many a stroak th' indignant waves.  Now had they brought the work by wondrous Art  Pontifical, a ridge of pendent Rock  Over the vext Abyss, following the track  Of Satan, to the selfsame place where hee  First lighted from his Wing, and landed safe  From out of Chaos to the outside bare  Of this round World: with Pinns of Adamant  And Chains they made all fast, too fast they made  And durable; and now in little space                                320  The Confines met of Empyrean Heav'n  And of this World, and on the left hand Hell  With long reach interpos'd; three sev'ral wayes  In sight, to each of these three places led.  And now thir way to Earth they had descri'd,  To Paradise first tending, when behold  Satan in likeness of an Angel bright  Betwixt the Centaure and the Scorpion stearing  His Zenith, while the Sun in Aries rose:  Disguis'd he came, but those his Children dear                      330  Thir Parent soon discern'd, though in disguise.  Hee, after Eve seduc't, unminded slunk  Into the Wood fast by, and changing shape  To observe the sequel, saw his guileful act  By Eve, though all unweeting, seconded  Upon her Husband, saw thir shame that sought  Vain covertures; but when he saw descend  The Son of God to judge them, terrifi'd  Hee fled, not hoping to escape, but shun  The present, fearing guiltie what his wrauth                        340  Might suddenly inflict; that past, return'd  By Night, and listning where the hapless Paire  Sate in thir sad discourse, and various plaint,  Thence gatherd his own doom, which understood  Not instant, but of future time. With joy  And tidings fraught, to Hell he now return'd,  And at the brink of Chaos, neer the foot  Of this new wondrous Pontifice, unhop't  Met who to meet him came, his Ofspring dear.  Great joy was at thir meeting, and at sight                         350  Of that stupendious Bridge his joy encreas'd.  Long hee admiring stood, till Sin, his faire  Inchanting Daughter, thus the silence broke.  O Parent, these are thy magnific deeds,  Thy Trophies, which thou view'st as not thine own,  Thou art thir Author and prime Architect:  For I no sooner in my Heart divin'd,  My Heart, which by a secret harmonie  Still moves with thine, joyn'd in connexion sweet,  That thou on Earth hadst prosper'd, which thy looks                 360  Now also evidence, but straight I felt  Though distant from thee Worlds between, yet felt  That I must after thee with this thy Son;  Such fatal consequence unites us three:  Hell could no longer hold us in her bounds,  Nor this unvoyageable Gulf obscure  Detain from following thy illustrious track.  Thou hast atchiev'd our libertie, confin'd  Within Hell Gates till now, thou us impow'rd  To fortifie thus farr, and overlay                                  370  With this portentous Bridge the dark Abyss.  Thine now is all this World, thy vertue hath won  What thy hands builded not, thy Wisdom gain'd  With odds what Warr hath lost, and fully aveng'd  Our foile in Heav'n; here thou shalt Monarch reign,  There didst not; there let him still Victor sway,  As Battel hath adjudg'd, from this new World  Retiring, by his own doom alienated,  And henceforth Monarchie with thee divide  Of all things, parted by th' Empyreal bounds,                       380  His Quadrature, from thy Orbicular World,  Or trie thee now more dang'rous to his Throne.  Whom thus the Prince of Darkness answerd glad.  Fair Daughter, and thou Son and Grandchild both,  High proof ye now have giv'n to be the Race  Of Satan (for I glorie in the name,  Antagonist of Heav'ns Almightie King)  Amply have merited of me, of all  Th' Infernal Empire, that so neer Heav'ns dore  Triumphal with triumphal act have met,                              390  Mine with this glorious Work, & made one Realm  Hell and this World, one Realm, one Continent  Of easie thorough-fare. Therefore while I  Descend through Darkness, on your Rode with ease  To my associate Powers, them to acquaint  With these successes, and with them rejoyce,  You two this way, among those numerous Orbs  All yours, right down to Paradise descend;  There dwell & Reign in bliss, thence on the Earth  Dominion exercise and in the Aire,                                  400  Chiefly on Man, sole Lord of all declar'd,  Him first make sure your thrall, and lastly kill.  My Substitutes I send ye, and Create  Plenipotent on Earth, of matchless might  Issuing from mee: on your joynt vigor now  My hold of this new Kingdom all depends,  Through Sin to Death expos'd by my exploit.  If your joynt power prevaile, th' affaires of Hell  No detriment need feare, goe and be strong.  So saying he dismiss'd them, they with speed                        410  Thir course through thickest Constellations held  Spreading thir bane; the blasted Starrs lookt wan,  And Planets, Planet-strook, real Eclips  Then sufferd. Th' other way Satan went down  The Causey to Hell Gate; on either side  Disparted Chaos over built exclaimd,  And with rebounding surge the barrs assaild,  That scorn'd his indignation: through the Gate,  Wide open and unguarded, Satan pass'd,  And all about found desolate; for those                             420  Appointed to sit there, had left thir charge,  Flown to the upper World; the rest were all  Farr to the inland retir'd, about the walls  Of Pandemonium, Citie and proud seate  Of Lucifer, so by allusion calld,  Of that bright Starr to Satan paragond.  There kept thir Watch the Legions, while the Grand  In Council sate, sollicitous what chance  Might intercept thir Emperour sent, so hee  Departing gave command, and they observ'd.                          430  As when the Tartar from his Russian Foe  By Astracan over the Snowie Plaines  Retires, or Bactrian Sophi from the hornes  Of Turkish Crescent, leaves all waste beyond  The Realme of Aladule, in his retreate  To Tauris or Casbeen. So these the late  Heav'n-banisht Host, left desert utmost Hell  Many a dark League, reduc't in careful Watch  Round thir Metropolis, and now expecting  Each hour their great adventurer from the search                    440  Of Forrein Worlds: he through the midst unmarkt,
388s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

In shew plebeian Angel militant  Of lowest order, past; and from the dore  Of that Plutonian Hall, invisible  Ascended his high Throne, which under state  Of richest texture spred, at th' upper end  Was plac't in regal lustre. Down a while  He sate, and round about him saw unseen:  At last as from a Cloud his fulgent head  And shape Starr bright appeer'd, or brighter, clad                  450  With what permissive glory since his fall  Was left him, or false glitter: All amaz'd  At that so sudden blaze the Stygian throng  Bent thir aspect, and whom they wish'd beheld,  Thir mighty Chief returnd: loud was th' acclaime:  Forth rush'd in haste the great consulting Peers,  Rais'd from thir dark Divan, and with like joy  Congratulant approach'd him, who with hand  Silence, and with these words attention won.  Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Vertues, Powers,                  460  For in possession such, not onely of right,  I call ye and declare ye now, returnd  Successful beyond hope, to lead ye forth  Triumphant out of this infernal Pit  Abominable, accurst, the house of woe,  And Dungeon of our Tyrant: Now possess,  As Lords, a spacious World, to our native Heaven  Little inferiour, by my adventure hard  With peril great atchiev'd. Long were to tell  What I have don, what sufferd, with what paine                      470  Voyag'd the unreal, vast, unbounded deep  Of horrible confusion, over which  By Sin and Death a broad way now is pav'd  To expedite your glorious march; but I  Toild out my uncouth passage, forc't to ride  Th' untractable Abysse, plung'd in the womb  Of unoriginal Night and Chaos wilde,  That jealous of thir secrets fiercely oppos'd  My journey strange, with clamorous uproare  Protesting Fate supreame; thence how I found                        480  The new created World, which fame in Heav'n  Long had foretold, a Fabrick wonderful  Of absolute perfection, therein Man  Plac't in a Paradise, by our exile  Made happie: Him by fraud I have seduc'd  From his Creator, and the more to increase  Your wonder, with an Apple; he thereat  Offended, worth your laughter, hath giv'n up  Both his beloved Man and all his World,  To Sin and Death a prey, and so to us,                              490  Without our hazard, labour or allarme,  To range in, and to dwell, and over Man  To rule, as over all he should have rul'd.  True is, mee also he hath judg'd, or rather  Mee not, but the brute Serpent in whose shape  Man I deceav'd: that which to mee belongs,  Is enmity, which he will put between  Mee and Mankinde; I am to bruise his heel;  His Seed, when is not set, shall bruise my head:  A World who would not purchase with a bruise,                       500  Or much more grievous pain? Ye have th' account  Of my performance: What remaines, ye Gods,  But up and enter now into full bliss.  So having said, a while he stood, expecting  Thir universal shout and high applause  To fill his eare, when contrary he hears  On all sides, from innumerable tongues  A dismal universal hiss, the sound  Of public scorn; he wonderd, but not long  Had leasure, wondring at himself now more;                          510  His Visage drawn he felt to sharp and spare,  His Armes clung to his Ribs, his Leggs entwining  Each other, till supplanted down he fell  A monstrous Serpent on his Belly prone,  Reluctant, but in vaine, a greater power  Now rul'd him, punisht in the shape he sin'd,  According to his doom: he would have spoke,  But hiss for hiss returnd with forked tongue  To forked tongue, for now were all transform'd  Alike, to Serpents all as accessories                               520  To his bold Riot: dreadful was the din  Of hissing through the Hall, thick swarming now  With complicated monsters, head and taile,
377s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

Scorpion and Asp, and Amphisbaena dire,  Cerastes hornd, Hydrus, and Ellops drear,  And Dipsas (Not so thick swarm'd once the Soil  Bedropt with blood of Gorgon, or the Isle  Ophiusa) but still greatest hee the midst,  Now Dragon grown, larger then whom the Sun  Ingenderd in the Pythian Vale on slime,                             530  Huge Python, and his Power no less he seem'd  Above the rest still to retain; they all  Him follow'd issuing forth to th' open Field,  Where all yet left of that revolted Rout  Heav'n-fall'n, in station stood or just array,  Sublime with expectation when to see  In Triumph issuing forth thir glorious Chief;  They saw, but other sight instead, a crowd  Of ugly Serpents; horror on them fell,  And horrid sympathie; for what they saw,                            540  They felt themselvs now changing; down thir arms,  Down fell both Spear and Shield, down they as fast,  And the dire hiss renew'd, and the dire form  Catcht by Contagion, like in punishment,  As in thir crime. Thus was th' applause they meant,  Turnd to exploding hiss, triumph to shame  Cast on themselves from thir own mouths. There stood  A Grove hard by, sprung up with this thir change,  His will who reigns above, to aggravate  Thir penance, laden with fair Fruit, like that                      550  Which grew in Paradise, the bait of Eve  Us'd by the Tempter: on that prospect strange  Thir earnest eyes they fix'd, imagining  For one forbidden Tree a multitude  Now ris'n, to work them furder woe or shame;  Yet parcht with scalding thurst and hunger fierce,  Though to delude them sent, could not abstain,  But on they rould in heaps, and up the Trees  Climbing, sat thicker then the snakie locks  That curld Megaera: greedily they pluck'd                           560  The Frutage fair to sight, like that which grew  Neer that bituminous Lake where Sodom flam'd;  This more delusive, not the touch, but taste  Deceav'd; they fondly thinking to allay  Thir appetite with gust, instead of Fruit  Chewd bitter Ashes, which th' offended taste  With spattering noise rejected: oft they assayd,  Hunger and thirst constraining, drugd as oft,  With hatefullest disrelish writh'd thir jaws  With soot and cinders fill'd; so oft they fell                      570  Into the same illusion, not as Man  Whom they triumph'd once lapst. Thus were they plagu'd  And worn with Famin, long and ceasless hiss,  Till thir lost shape, permitted, they resum'd,  Yearly enjoynd, some say, to undergo  This annual humbling certain number'd days,  To dash thir pride, and joy for Man seduc't.  However some tradition they dispers'd  Among the Heathen of thir purchase got,  And Fabl'd how the Serpent, whom they calld                         580  Ophion with Eurynome, the wide-  Encroaching Eve perhaps, had first the rule  Of high Olympus, thence by Saturn driv'n  And Ops, ere yet Dictaean Jove was born.  Mean while in Paradise the hellish pair  Too soon arriv'd, Sin there in power before,  Once actual, now in body, and to dwell  Habitual habitant; behind her Death  Close following pace for pace, not mounted yet  On his pale Horse: to whom Sin thus began.                          590  Second of Satan sprung, all conquering Death,  What thinkst thou of our Empire now, though earnd  With travail difficult, not better farr  Then stil at Hels dark threshold to have sate watch,  Unnam'd, undreaded, and thy self half starv'd?  Whom thus the Sin-born Monster answerd soon.  To mee, who with eternal Famin pine,  Alike is Hell, or Paradise, or Heaven,  There best, where most with ravin I may meet;  Which here, though plenteous, all too little seems                  600  To stuff this Maw, this vast unhide-bound Corps.  To whom th' incestuous Mother thus repli'd.  Thou therefore on these Herbs, and Fruits, & Flours  Feed first, on each Beast next, and Fish, and Fowle,  No homely morsels, and whatever thing  The Sithe of Time mowes down, devour unspar'd,  Till I in Man residing through the Race,  His thoughts, his looks, words, actions all infect,  And season him thy last and sweetest prey.
398s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

This said, they both betook them several wayes,                     610  Both to destroy, or unimmortal make  All kinds, and for destruction to mature  Sooner or later; which th' Almightie seeing,  From his transcendent Seat the Saints among,  To those bright Orders utterd thus his voice.  See with what heat these Dogs of Hell advance  To waste and havoc yonder World, which I  So fair and good created, and had still  Kept in that state, had not the folly of Man  Let in these wastful Furies, who impute                             620  Folly to mee, so doth the Prince of Hell  And his Adherents, that with so much ease  I suffer them to enter and possess  A place so heav'nly, and conniving seem  To gratifie my scornful Enemies,  That laugh, as if transported with some fit  Of Passion, I to them had quitted all,  At random yeilded up to their misrule;  And know not that I call'd and drew them thither  My Hell-hounds, to lick up the draff and filth                      630  Which mans polluting Sin with taint hath shed  On what was pure, till cramm'd and gorg'd, nigh burst  With suckt and glutted offal, at one fling  Of thy victorious Arm, well-pleasing Son,  Both Sin, and Death, and yawning Grave at last  Through Chaos hurld, obstruct the mouth of Hell  For ever, and seal up his ravenous Jawes.  Then Heav'n and Earth renewd shall be made pure  To sanctitie that shall receive no staine:  Till then the Curse pronounc't on both precedes.                    640  Hee ended, and the heav'nly Audience loud  Sung Halleluia, as the sound of Seas,  Through multitude that sung: Just are thy ways,  Righteous are thy Decrees on all thy Works;  Who can extenuate thee? Next, to the Son,  Destin'd restorer of Mankind, by whom  New Heav'n and Earth shall to the Ages rise,  Or down from Heav'n descend. Such was thir song,  While the Creator calling forth by name  His mightie Angels gave them several charge,                        650  As sorted best with present things. The Sun  Had first his precept so to move, so shine,  As might affect the Earth with cold and heat  Scarce tollerable, and from the North to call  Decrepit Winter, from the South to bring  Solstitial summers heat. To the blanc Moone  Her office they prescrib'd, to th' other five  Thir planetarie motions and aspects  In Sextile, Square, and Trine, and Opposite,  Of noxious efficacie, and when to joyne                             660  In Synod unbenigne, and taught the fixt  Thir influence malignant when to showre,  Which of them rising with the Sun, or falling,  Should prove tempestuous: To the Winds they set  Thir corners, when with bluster to confound  Sea, Aire, and Shoar, the Thunder when to rowle  With terror through the dark Aereal Hall.  Some say he bid his Angels turne ascanse  The Poles of Earth twice ten degrees and more  From the Suns Axle; they with labour push'd                         670  Oblique the Centric Globe: Som say the Sun  Was bid turn Reines from th' Equinoctial Rode  Like distant breadth to Taurus with the Seav'n  Atlantick Sisters, and the Spartan Twins  Up to the Tropic Crab; thence down amaine  By Leo and the Virgin and the Scales,  As deep as Capricorne, to bring in change  Of Seasons to each Clime; else had the Spring  Perpetual smil'd on Earth with vernant Flours,  Equal in Days and Nights, except to those                           680  Beyond the Polar Circles; to them Day  Had unbenighted shon, while the low Sun  To recompence his distance, in thir sight  Had rounded still th' Horizon, and not known  Or East or West, which had forbid the Snow  From cold Estotiland, and South as farr  Beneath Magellan. At that tasted Fruit  The Sun, as from Thyestean Banquet, turn'd  His course intended; else how had the World  Inhabited, though sinless, more then now,                           690  Avoided pinching cold and scorching heate?  These changes in the Heav'ns, though slow, produc'd  Like change on Sea and Land, sideral blast,  Vapour, and Mist, and Exhalation hot,  Corrupt and Pestilent: Now from the North  Of Norumbega, and the Samoed shoar  Bursting thir brazen Dungeon, armd with ice  And snow and haile and stormie gust and flaw,  Boreas and Caecias and Argestes loud  And Thrascias rend the Woods and Seas upturn;                       700  With adverse blast up-turns them from the South  Notus and Afer black with thundrous Clouds  From Serraliona; thwart of these as fierce  Forth rush the Levant and the Ponent Windes  Eurus and Zephir with thir lateral noise,  Sirocco, and Libecchio. Thus began  Outrage from liveless things; but Discord first  Daughter of Sin, among th' irrational,  Death introduc'd through fierce antipathie:  Beast now with Beast gan war, & Fowle with Fowle,                   710  And Fish with Fish; to graze the Herb all leaving,  Devourd each other; nor stood much in awe  Of Man, but fled him, or with count'nance grim  Glar'd on him passing: these were from without  The growing miseries, which Adam saw  Alreadie in part, though hid in gloomiest shade,  To sorrow abandond, but worse felt within,  And in a troubl'd Sea of passion tost,  Thus to disburd'n sought with sad complaint.  O miserable of happie! is this the end                              720  Of this new glorious World, and mee so late  The Glory of that Glory, who now becom  Accurst of blessed, hide me from the face  Of God, whom to behold was then my highth  Of happiness: yet well, if here would end  The miserie, I deserv'd it, and would beare  My own deservings; but this will not serve;  All that I eate or drink, or shall beget,  Is propagated curse. O voice once heard  Delightfully, Encrease And Multiply,                                730  Now death to heare! for what can I encrease  Or multiplie, but curses on my head?  Who of all Ages to succeed, but feeling  The evil on him brought by me, will curse  My Head, Ill fare our Ancestor impure,  For this we may thank Adam; but his thanks  Shall be the execration; so besides  Mine own that bide upon me, all from mee  Shall with a fierce reflux on mee redound,  On mee as on thir natural center light                              740  Heavie, though in thir place. O fleeting joyes  Of Paradise, deare bought with lasting woes!  Did I request thee, Maker, from my Clay  To mould me Man, did I sollicite thee  From darkness to promote me, or here place  In this delicious Garden? as my Will  Concurd not to my being, it were but right  And equal to reduce me to my dust,  Desirous to resigne, and render back  All I receav'd, unable to performe                                  750  Thy terms too hard, by which I was to hold  The good I sought not. To the loss of that,  Sufficient penaltie, why hast thou added  The sense of endless woes? inexplicable  Thy Justice seems; yet to say truth, too late,  I thus contest; then should have been refusd  Those terms whatever, when they were propos'd:  Thou didst accept them; wilt thou enjoy the good,  Then cavil the conditions? and though God  Made thee without thy leave, what if thy Son                        760  Prove disobedient, and reprov'd, retort,  Wherefore didst thou beget me? I sought it not:  Wouldst thou admit for his contempt of thee  That proud excuse? yet him not thy election,  But Natural necessity begot.  God made thee of choice his own, and of his own  To serve him, thy reward was of his grace,  Thy punishment then justly is at his Will.  Be it so, for I submit, his doom is fair,  That dust I am, and shall to dust returne:                          770  O welcom hour whenever! why delayes  His hand to execute what his Decree  Fixd on this day? why do I overlive,  Why am I mockt with death, and length'nd out  To deathless pain? how gladly would I meet  Mortalitie my sentence, and be Earth  Insensible, how glad would lay me down  As in my Mothers lap? there I should rest  And sleep secure; his dreadful voice no more  Would Thunder in my ears, no fear of worse                          780  To mee and to my ofspring would torment me  With cruel expectation. Yet one doubt  Pursues me still, least all I cannot die,  Least that pure breath of Life, the Spirit of Man  Which God inspir'd, cannot together perish  With this corporeal Clod; then in the Grave,  Or in some other dismal place, who knows  But I shall die a living Death? O thought  Horrid, if true! yet why? it was but breath  Of Life that sinn'd; what dies but what had life                    790  And sin? the Bodie properly hath neither.  All of me then shall die: let this appease  The doubt, since humane reach no further knows.  For though the Lord of all be infinite,  Is his wrauth also? be it, man is not so,  But mortal doom'd. How can he exercise  Wrath without end on Man whom Death must end?  Can he make deathless Death? that were to make  Strange contradiction, which to God himself  Impossible is held, as Argument                                     800  Of weakness, not of Power. Will he, draw out,  For angers sake, finite to infinite  In punisht man, to satisfie his rigour  Satisfi'd never; that were to extend  His Sentence beyond dust and Natures Law,  By which all Causes else according still  To the reception of thir matter act,  Not to th' extent of thir own Spheare. But say  That Death be not one stroak, as I suppos'd,  Bereaving sense, but endless miserie                                810  From this day onward, which I feel begun  Both in me, and without me, and so last  To perpetuitie; Ay me, that fear  Comes thundring back with dreadful revolution  On my defensless head; both Death and I  Am found Eternal, and incorporate both,  Nor I on my part single, in mee all  Posteritie stands curst: Fair Patrimonie  That I must leave ye, Sons; O were I able  To waste it all my self, and leave ye none!                         820  So disinherited how would ye bless  Me now your Curse! Ah, why should all mankind  For one mans fault thus guiltless be condemn'd,  If guiltless? But from mee what can proceed,  But all corrupt, both Mind and Will deprav'd,  Not to do onely, but to will the same  With me? how can they acquitted stand  In sight of God? Him after all Disputes  Forc't I absolve: all my evasions vain  And reasonings, though through Mazes, lead me still                 830  But to my own conviction: first and last  On mee, mee onely, as the sourse and spring  Of all corruption, all the blame lights due;  So might the wrauth, Fond wish! couldst thou support  That burden heavier then the Earth to bear,  Then all the world much heavier, though divided  With that bad Woman? Thus what thou desir'st,  And what thou fearst, alike destroyes all hope  Of refuge, and concludes thee miserable  Beyond all past example and future,                                 840  To Satan onely like both crime and doom.  O Conscience, into what Abyss of fears  And horrors hast thou driv'n me; out of which  I find no way, from deep to deeper plung'd!  Thus Adam to himself lamented loud  Through the still Night, not now, as ere man fell,  Wholsom and cool, and mild, but with black Air  Accompanied, with damps and dreadful gloom,  Which to his evil Conscience represented  All things with double terror: On the ground                        850  Outstretcht he lay, on the cold ground, and oft  Curs'd his Creation, Death as oft accus'd  Of tardie execution, since denounc't  The day of his offence. Why comes not Death,  Said hee, with one thrice acceptable stroke  To end me? Shall Truth fail to keep her word,  Justice Divine not hast'n to be just?  But Death comes not at call, Justice Divine  Mends not her slowest pace for prayers or cries.  O Woods, O Fountains, Hillocks, Dales and Bowrs,                    860  With other echo farr I taught your Shades  To answer, and resound farr other Song.  Whom thus afflicted when sad Eve beheld,  Desolate where she sate, approaching nigh,  Soft words to his fierce passion she assay'd:  But her with stern regard he thus repell'd.  Out of my sight, thou Serpent, that name best  Befits thee with him leagu'd, thy self as false  And hateful; nothing wants, but that thy shape,  Like his, and colour Serpentine may shew                            870  Thy inward fraud, to warn all Creatures from thee  Henceforth; least that too heav'nly form, pretended  To hellish falshood, snare them. But for thee  I had persisted happie, had not thy pride  And wandring vanitie, when lest was safe,  Rejected my forewarning, and disdain'd  Not to be trusted, longing to be seen  Though by the Devil himself, him overweening  To over-reach, but with the Serpent meeting  Fool'd and beguil'd, by him thou, I by thee,                        880  To trust thee from my side, imagin'd wise,  Constant, mature, proof against all assaults,  And understood not all was but a shew  Rather then solid vertu, all but a Rib  Crooked by nature, bent, as now appears,  More to the part sinister from me drawn,  Well if thrown out, as supernumerarie  To my just number found. O why did God,  Creator wise, that peopl'd highest Heav'n  With Spirits Masculine, create at last                              890  This noveltie on Earth, this fair defect  Of Nature, and not fill the World at once  With Men as Angels without Feminine,  Or find some other way to generate  Mankind? this mischief had not then befall'n,  And more that shall befall, innumerable  Disturbances on Earth through Femal snares,  And straight conjunction with this Sex: for either  He never shall find out fit Mate, but such  As some misfortune brings him, or mistake,                          900  Or whom he wishes most shall seldom gain  Through her perverseness, but shall see her gaind  By a farr worse, or if she love, withheld  By Parents, or his happiest choice too late  Shall meet, alreadie linkt and Wedlock-bound  To a fell Adversarie, his hate or shame:  Which infinite calamitie shall cause  To humane life, and houshold peace confound.  He added not, and from her turn'd, but Eve  Not so repulst, with Tears that ceas'd not flowing,                 910  And tresses all disorderd, at his feet  Fell humble, and imbracing them, besaught  His peace, and thus proceeded in her plaint.  Forsake me not thus, Adam, witness Heav'n  What love sincere, and reverence in my heart  I beare thee, and unweeting have offended,  Unhappilie deceav'd; thy suppliant  I beg, and clasp thy knees; bereave me not,  Whereon I live, thy gentle looks, thy aid,  Thy counsel in this uttermost distress,                             920  My onely strength and stay: forlorn of thee,  Whither shall I betake me, where subsist?  While yet we live, scarse one short hour perhaps,  Between us two let there be peace, both joyning,  As joyn'd in injuries, one enmitie  Against a Foe by doom express assign'd us,  That cruel Serpent: On me exercise not  Thy hatred for this miserie befall'n,  On me already lost, mee then thy self  More miserable; both have sin'd, but thou                           930  Against God onely, I against God and thee,  And to the place of judgement will return,  There with my cries importune Heaven, that all  The sentence from thy head remov'd may light  On me, sole cause to thee of all this woe,  Mee mee onely just object of his ire.  She ended weeping, and her lowlie plight,  Immoveable till peace obtain'd from fault  Acknowledg'd and deplor'd, in Adam wraught  Commiseration; soon his heart relented                              940  Towards her, his life so late and sole delight,  Now at his feet submissive in distress,  Creature so faire his reconcilement seeking,  His counsel whom she had displeas'd, his aide;  As one disarm'd, his anger all he lost,  And thus with peaceful words uprais'd her soon.  Unwarie, and too desirous, as before,  So now of what thou knowst not, who desir'st  The punishment all on thy self; alas,  Beare thine own first, ill able to sustaine                         950  His full wrauth whose thou feelst as yet lest part,  And my displeasure bearst so ill. If Prayers  Could alter high Decrees, I to that place  Would speed before thee, and be louder heard,  That on my head all might be visited,  Thy frailtie and infirmer Sex forgiv'n,  To me committed and by me expos'd.  But rise, let us no more contend, nor blame  Each other, blam'd enough elsewhere, but strive  In offices of Love, how we may light'n                              960  Each others burden in our share of woe;  Since this days Death denounc't, if ought I see,  Will prove no sudden, but a slow-pac't evill,  A long days dying to augment our paine,  And to our Seed (O hapless Seed!) deriv'd.  To whom thus Eve, recovering heart, repli'd.  Adam, by sad experiment I know  How little weight my words with thee can finde,  Found so erroneous, thence by just event  Found so unfortunate; nevertheless,                                 970  Restor'd by thee, vile as I am, to place  Of new acceptance, hopeful to regaine  Thy Love, the sole contentment of my heart,  Living or dying from thee I will not hide  What thoughts in my unquiet brest are ris'n,  Tending to som relief of our extremes,  Or end, though sharp and sad, yet tolerable,  As in our evils, and of easier choice.  If care of our descent perplex us most,  Which must be born to certain woe, devourd                          980  By Death at last, and miserable it is  To be to others cause of misery,  Our own begotten, and of our Loines to bring  Into this cursed World a woful Race,  That after wretched Life must be at last  Food for so foule a Monster, in thy power  It lies, yet ere Conception to prevent  The Race unblest, to being yet unbegot.  Childless thou art, Childless remaine:  So Death shall be deceav'd his glut, and with us two                990  Be forc'd to satisfie his Rav'nous Maw.  But if thou judge it hard and difficult,  Conversing, looking, loving, to abstain  From Loves due Rites, Nuptial embraces sweet,  And with desire to languish without hope,  Before the present object languishing  With like desire, which would be miserie  And torment less then none of what we dread,  Then both our selves and Seed at once to free  From what we fear for both, let us make short,                     1000  Let us seek Death, or hee not found, supply  With our own hands his Office on our selves;  Why stand we longer shivering under feares,  That shew no end but Death, and have the power,  Of many wayes to die the shortest choosing,  Destruction with destruction to destroy.  She ended heer, or vehement despaire  Broke off the rest; so much of Death her thoughts  Had entertaind, as di'd her Cheeks with pale.  But Adam with such counsel nothing sway'd,                         1010  To better hopes his more attentive minde  Labouring had rais'd, and thus to Eve repli'd.  Eve, thy contempt of life and pleasure seems  To argue in thee somthing more sublime  And excellent then what thy minde contemnes;  But self-destruction therefore saught, refutes  That excellence thought in thee, and implies,  Not thy contempt, but anguish and regret  For loss of life and pleasure overlov'd.  Or if thou covet death, as utmost end                              1020  Of miserie, so thinking to evade  The penaltie pronounc't, doubt not but God  Hath wiselier arm'd his vengeful ire then so  To be forestall'd; much more I fear least Death  So snatcht will not exempt us from the paine  We are by doom to pay; rather such acts  Of contumacie will provoke the highest  To make death in us live: Then let us seek  Som safer resolution, which methinks  I have in view, calling to minde with heed                         1030  Part of our Sentence, that thy Seed shall bruise  The Serpents head; piteous amends, unless  Be meant, whom I conjecture, our grand Foe  Satan, who in the Serpent hath contriv'd  Against us this deceit: to crush his head  Would be revenge indeed; which will be lost  By death brought on our selves, or childless days  Resolv'd, as thou proposest; so our Foe  Shall scape his punishment ordain'd, and wee  Instead shall double ours upon our heads.                          1040  No more be mention'd then of violence  Against our selves, and wilful barrenness,  That cuts us off from hope, and savours onely  Rancor and pride, impatience and despite,  Reluctance against God and his just yoke  Laid on our Necks. Remember with what mild  And gracious temper he both heard and judg'd  Without wrauth or reviling; wee expected  Immediate dissolution, which we thought  Was meant by Death that day, when lo, to thee                      1050  Pains onely in Child-bearing were foretold,  And bringing forth, soon recompenc't with joy,  Fruit of thy Womb: On mee the Curse aslope  Glanc'd on the ground, with labour I must earne  My bread; what harm? Idleness had bin worse;  My labour will sustain me; and least Cold  Or Heat should injure us, his timely care  Hath unbesaught provided, and his hands  Cloath'd us unworthie, pitying while he judg'd;  How much more, if we pray him, will his ear                        1060  Be open, and his heart to pitie incline,  And teach us further by what means to shun  Th' inclement Seasons, Rain, Ice, Hail and Snow,  Which now the Skie with various Face begins  To shew us in this Mountain, while the Winds  Blow moist and keen, shattering the graceful locks  Of these fair spreading Trees; which bids us seek  Som better shroud, som better warmth to cherish  Our Limbs benumm'd, ere this diurnal Starr  Leave cold the Night, how we his gather'd beams                    1070  Reflected, may with matter sere foment,  Or by collision of two bodies grinde  The Air attrite to Fire, as late the Clouds  Justling or pusht with Winds rude in thir shock  Tine the slant Lightning, whose thwart flame driv'n down  Kindles the gummie bark of Firr or Pine,  And sends a comfortable heat from farr,  Which might supplie the Sun: such Fire to use,  And what may else be remedie or cure  To evils which our own misdeeds have wrought,                      1080  Hee will instruct us praying, and of Grace  Beseeching him, so as we need not fear  To pass commodiously this life, sustain'd  By him with many comforts, till we end  In dust, our final rest and native home.  What better can we do, then to the place  Repairing where he judg'd us, prostrate fall  Before him reverent, and there confess  Humbly our faults, and pardon beg, with tears  Watering the ground, and with our sighs the Air                    1090  Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign  Of sorrow unfeign'd, and humiliation meek.  Undoubtedly he will relent and turn  From his displeasure; in whose look serene,  When angry most he seem'd and most severe,  What else but favor, grace, and mercie shon?  So spake our Father penitent, nor Eve  Felt less remorse: they forthwith to the place  Repairing where he judg'd them prostrate fell  Before him reverent, and both confess'd                            1100  Humbly thir faults, and pardon beg'd, with tears  Watering the ground, and with thir sighs the Air  Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign  Of sorrow unfeign'd, and humiliation meek.  Notes:  58 may] might 1674.  241 Avenger] Avengers 1674.  397 those] these 1674.  827 they acquitted] they then acquitted 1674.  The End Of The Tenth Book.





BOOK XI.

THE ARGUMENT.

The Son of God presents to his Father the Prayers of our firstParents now repenting, and intercedes for them: God accepts them,but declares that they must no longer abide in Paradise; sendsMichael with a Band of Cherubim to dispossess them; but first toreveal to Adam future things: Michaels coming down, Adam shews toEve certain ominous signs; he discerns Michaels approach, goesout to meet him: the Angel denounces thir departure. Eve'sLamentation. Adam pleads, but submits: The Angel leads him up toa high Hill, sets before him in a vision what shall happ'n tillthe Flood.

Thus they in lowliest plight repentant stood  Praying, for from the Mercie-seat above  Prevenient Grace descending had remov'd  The stonie from thir hearts, and made new flesh  Regenerat grow instead, that sighs now breath'd  Unutterable, which the Spirit of prayer  Inspir'd, and wing'd for Heav'n with speedier flight  Then loudest Oratorie: yet thir port  Not of mean suiters, nor important less  Seem'd thir Petition, then when th' ancient Pair                     10  In Fables old, less ancient yet then these,  Deucalion and chaste Pyrrha to restore  The Race of Mankind drownd, before the Shrine  Of Themis stood devout. To Heav'n thir prayers  Flew up, nor missed the way, by envious windes  Blow'n vagabond or frustrate: in they passd  Dimentionless through Heav'nly dores; then clad  With incense, where the Golden Altar fum'd,  By thir great Intercessor, came in sight  Before the Fathers Throne: Them the glad Son                         20  Presenting, thus to intercede began.  See Father, what first fruits on Earth are sprung  From thy implanted Grace in Man, these Sighs  And Prayers, which in this Golden Censer, mixt  With Incense, I thy Priest before thee bring,  Fruits of more pleasing savour from thy seed  Sow'n with contrition in his heart, then those  Which his own hand manuring all the Trees  Of Paradise could have produc't, ere fall'n  From innocence. Now therefore bend thine eare                        30  To supplication, heare his sighs though mute;  Unskilful with what words to pray, let mee  Interpret for him, mee his Advocate  And propitiation, all his works on mee  Good or not good ingraft, my Merit those  Shall perfet, and for these my Death shall pay.  Accept me, and in mee from these receave  The smell of peace toward Mankinde, let him live  Before thee reconcil'd, at least his days  Numberd, though sad, till Death, his doom (which I                   40  To mitigate thus plead, not to reverse)  To better life shall yeeld him, where with mee  All my redeemd may dwell in joy and bliss,  Made one with me as I with thee am one.  To whom the Father, without Cloud, serene.  All thy request for Man, accepted Son,  Obtain, all thy request was my Decree:  But longer in that Paradise to dwell,  The Law I gave to Nature him forbids:  Those pure immortal Elements that know                               50  No gross, no unharmoneous mixture foule,  Eject him tainted now, and purge him off  As a distemper, gross to aire as gross,  And mortal food, as may dispose him best  For dissolution wrought by Sin, that first  Distemperd all things, and of incorrupt  Corrupted. I at first with two fair gifts  Created him endowd, with Happiness  And Immortalitie: that fondly lost,  This other serv'd but to eternize woe;                               60  Till I provided Death; so Death becomes  His final remedie, and after Life  Tri'd in sharp tribulation, and refin'd  By Faith and faithful works, to second Life,  Wak't in the renovation of the just,  Resignes him up with Heav'n and Earth renewd.  But let us call to Synod all the Blest  Through Heav'ns wide bounds; from them I will not hide  My judgments, how with Mankind I proceed,  As how with peccant Angels late they saw;                            70  And in thir state, though firm, stood more confirmd.  He ended, and the Son gave signal high  To the bright Minister that watchd, hee blew  His Trumpet, heard in Oreb since perhaps  When God descended, and perhaps once more  To sound at general Doom. Th' Angelic blast  Filld all the Regions: from thir blissful Bowrs  Of Amarantin Shade, Fountain or Spring,  By the waters of Life, where ere they sate  In fellowships of joy: the Sons of Light                             80  Hasted, resorting to the Summons high,  And took thir Seats; till from his Throne supream  Th' Almighty thus pronounced his sovran Will.  O Sons, like one of us Man is become  To know both Good and Evil, since his taste  Of that defended Fruit; but let him boast  His knowledge of Good lost, and Evil got,  Happier, had it suffic'd him to have known  Good by it self, and Evil not at all.  He sorrows now, repents, and prayes contrite,                        90  My motions in him, longer then they move,  His heart I know, how variable and vain  Self-left. Least therefore his now bolder hand  Reach also of the Tree of Life, and eat,  And live for ever, dream at least to live  Forever, to remove him I decree,  And send him from the Garden forth to Till  The Ground whence he was taken, fitter soile.  Michael, this my behest have thou in charge,  Take to thee from among the Cherubim                                100  Thy choice of flaming Warriours, least the Fiend  Or in behalf of Man, or to invade  Vacant possession som new trouble raise:  Hast thee, and from the Paradise of God  Without remorse drive out the sinful Pair,  From hallowd ground th' unholie, and denounce  To them and to thir Progenie from thence  Perpetual banishment. Yet least they faint  At the sad Sentence rigorously urg'd,  For I behold them soft'nd and with tears                            110  Bewailing thir excess, all terror hide.  If patiently thy bidding they obey,  Dismiss them not disconsolate; reveale  To Adam what shall come in future dayes,  As I shall thee enlighten, intermix  My Cov'nant in the Womans seed renewd;  So send them forth, though sorrowing, yet in peace:  And on the East side of the Garden place,  Where entrance up from Eden easiest climbes,  Cherubic watch, and of a Sword the flame                            120  Wide waving, all approach farr off to fright,  And guard all passage to the Tree of Life:  Least Paradise a receptacle prove  To Spirits foule, and all my Trees thir prey,  With whose stol'n Fruit Man once more to delude.  He ceas'd; and th' Archangelic Power prepar'd  For swift descent, with him the Cohort bright  Of watchful Cherubim; four faces each  Had, like a double Janus, all thir shape  Spangl'd with eyes more numerous then those                         130  Of Argus, and more wakeful then to drouze,  Charm'd with Arcadian Pipe, the Pastoral Reed  Of Hermes, or his opiate Rod. Meanwhile  To resalute the World with sacred Light  Leucothea wak'd, and with fresh dews imbalmd  The Earth, when Adam and first Matron Eve  Had ended now thir Orisons, and found,  Strength added from above, new hope to spring  Out of despaire, joy, but with fear yet linkt;  Which thus to Eve his welcome words renewd.                         140  Eve, easily may Faith admit, that all  The good which we enjoy, from Heav'n descends  But that from us ought should ascend to Heav'n  So prevalent as to concerne the mind  Of God high blest, or to incline his will,  Hard to belief may seem; yet this will Prayer,  Or one short sigh of humane breath, up-borne  Ev'n to the Seat of God. For since I saught  By Prayer th' offended Deitie to appease,  Kneel'd and before him humbl'd all my heart,                        150  Methought I saw him placable and mild,  Bending his eare; perswasion in me grew  That I was heard with favour; peace returnd  Home to my brest, and to my memorie  His promise, that thy Seed shall bruise our Foe;  Which then not minded in dismay, yet now  Assures me that the bitterness of death  Is past, and we shall live. Whence Haile to thee,  Eve rightly call'd, Mother of all Mankind,  Mother of all things living, since by thee                          160  Man is to live, and all things live for Man.  To whom thus Eve with sad demeanour meek.  Ill worthie I such title should belong  To me transgressour, who for thee ordaind  A help, became thy snare; to mee reproach  Rather belongs, distrust and all dispraise:  But infinite in pardon was my Judge,  That I who first brought Death on all, am grac't  The sourse of life; next favourable thou,  Who highly thus to entitle me voutsaf't,                            170  Farr other name deserving. But the Field  To labour calls us now with sweat impos'd,  Though after sleepless Night; for see the Morn,  All unconcern'd with our unrest, begins  Her rosie progress smiling; let us forth,  I never from thy side henceforth to stray,  Wherere our days work lies, though now enjoind  Laborious, till day droop; while here we dwell,  What can be toilsom in these pleasant Walkes?  Here let us live, though in fall'n state, content.                  180  So spake, so wish'd much-humbl'd Eve, but Fate  Subscrib'd not; Nature first gave Signs, imprest  On Bird, Beast, Aire, Aire suddenly eclips'd  After short blush of Morn; nigh in her sight  The Bird of Jove, stoopt from his aerie tour,  Two Birds of gayest plume before him drove:  Down from a Hill the Beast that reigns in Woods,  First Hunter then, pursu'd a gentle brace,  Goodliest of all the Forrest, Hart and Hinde;  Direct to th' Eastern Gate was bent thir flight.                    190  Adam observ'd, and with his Eye the chase  Pursuing, not unmov'd to Eve thus spake.  O Eve, some furder change awaits us nigh,  Which Heav'n by these mute signs in Nature shews  Forerunners of his purpose, or to warn  Us haply too secure of our discharge  From penaltie, because from death releast  Some days; how long, and what till then our life,  Who knows, or more then this, that we are dust,  And thither must return and be no more.                             200  Why else this double object in our sight  Of flight pursu'd in th' Air and ore the ground  One way the self-same hour? why in the East  Darkness ere Dayes mid-course, and Morning light  More orient in yon Western Cloud that draws  O're the blew Firmament a radiant white,  And slow descends, with somthing heav'nly fraught.  He err'd not, for by this the heav'nly Bands
007s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

Down from a Skie of Jasper lighted now  In Paradise, and on a Hill made alt,                                210  A glorious Apparition, had not doubt  And carnal fear that day dimm'd Adams eye.  Not that more glorious, when the Angels met  Jacob in Mahanaim, where he saw  The field Pavilion'd with his Guardians bright;  Nor that which on the flaming Mount appeerd  In Dothan, cover'd with a Camp of Fire,  Against the Syrian King, who to surprize  One man, Assassin-like had levied Warr,  Warr unproclam'd. The Princely Hierarch                             220  In thir bright stand, there left his Powers to seise  Possession of the Garden; hee alone,  To finde where Adam shelterd, took his way,  Not unperceav'd of Adam, who to Eve,  While the great Visitant approachd, thus spake.  Eve, now expect great tidings, which perhaps  Of us will soon determin, or impose  New Laws to be observ'd; for I descrie  From yonder blazing Cloud that veils the Hill  One of the heav'nly Host, and by his Gate                           230  None of the meanest, some great Potentate  Or of the Thrones above, such Majestie  Invests him coming; yet not terrible,  That I should fear, nor sociably mild,  As Raphael, that I should much confide,  But solemn and sublime, whom not to offend,  With reverence I must meet, and thou retire.  He ended; and th' Arch-Angel soon drew nigh,  Not in his shape Celestial, but as Man  Clad to meet Man; over his lucid Armes                              240  A militarie Vest of purple flowd  Livelier then Meliboean, or the graine  Of Sarra, worn by Kings and Hero's old  In time of Truce; Iris had dipt the wooff;  His starrie Helme unbuckl'd shew'd him prime  In Manhood where Youth ended; by his side  As in a glistering Zodiac hung the Sword,  Satans dire dread, and in his hand the Spear.  Adam bowd low, hee Kingly from his State  Inclin'd not, but his coming thus declar'd.                         250  Adam, Heav'ns high behest no Preface needs:  Sufficient that thy Prayers are heard, and Death,  Then due by sentence when thou didst transgress,  Defeated of his seisure many dayes  Giv'n thee of Grace, wherein thou may'st repent,  And one bad act with many deeds well done  Mayst cover: well may then thy Lord appeas'd  Redeem thee quite from Deaths rapacious claimes;  But longer in this Paradise to dwell  Permits not; to remove thee I am come,                              260  And send thee from the Garden forth to till  The ground whence thou wast tak'n, fitter Soile.  He added not, for Adam at the newes  Heart-strook with chilling gripe of sorrow stood,  That all his senses bound; Eve, who unseen  Yet all had heard, with audible lament  Discover'd soon the place of her retire.  O unexpected stroke, worse then of Death!  Must I thus leave thee Paradise? thus leave  Thee Native Soile, these happie Walks and Shades,                   270  Fit haunt of Gods? where I had hope to spend,  Quiet though sad, the respit of that day  That must be mortal to us both. O flours,  That never will in other Climate grow,  My early visitation, and my last  At Eev'n, which I bred up with tender hand  From the first op'ning bud, and gave ye Names,  Who now shall reare ye to the Sun, or ranke  Your Tribes, and water from th' ambrosial Fount?  Thee lastly nuptial Bowre, by mee adornd                            280  With what to sight or smell was sweet; from thee  How shall I part, and whither wander down  Into a lower World, to this obscure  And wilde, how shall we breath in other Aire  Less pure, accustomd to immortal Fruits?  Whom thus the Angel interrupted milde.  Lament not Eve, but patiently resigne  What justly thou hast lost; nor set thy heart,  Thus over fond, on that which is not thine;  Thy going is not lonely, with thee goes                             290  Thy Husband, him to follow thou art bound;  Where he abides, think there thy native soile.  Adam by this from the cold sudden damp  Recovering, and his scatterd spirits returnd,  To Michael thus his humble words addressd.  Celestial, whether among the Thrones, or nam'd  Of them the Highest, for such of shape may seem  Prince above Princes, gently hast thou tould  Thy message, which might else in telling wound,  And in performing end us; what besides                              300  Of sorrow and dejection and despair  Our frailtie can sustain, thy tidings bring,  Departure from this happy place, our sweet  Recess, and onely consolation left  Familiar to our eyes, all places else  Inhospitable appeer and desolate,  Nor knowing us nor known: and if by prayer  Incessant I could hope to change the will  Of him who all things can, I would not cease  To wearie him with my assiduous cries:                              310  But prayer against his absolute Decree  No more availes then breath against the winde,  Blown stifling back on him that breaths it forth:  Therefore to his great bidding I submit.  This most afflicts me, that departing hence,  As from his face I shall be hid, deprivd  His blessed count'nance; here I could frequent,  With worship, place by place where he voutsaf'd  Presence Divine, and to my Sons relate;  On this Mount he appeerd, under this Tree                           320  Stood visible, among these Pines his voice  I heard, here with him at this Fountain talk'd:  So many grateful Altars I would reare  Of grassie Terfe, and pile up every Stone  Of lustre from the brook, in memorie,  Or monument to Ages, and thereon  Offer sweet smelling Gumms & Fruits and Flours:  In yonder nether World where shall I seek  His bright appearances, or footstep trace?  For though I fled him angrie, yet recall'd                          330  To life prolongd and promisd Race, I now  Gladly behold though but his utmost skirts  Of glory, and farr off his steps adore.  To whom thus Michael with regard benigne.  Adam, thou know'st Heav'n his, and all the Earth  Not this Rock onely; his Omnipresence fills  Land, Sea, and Aire, and every kinde that lives,  Fomented by his virtual power and warmd:  All th' Earth he gave thee to possess and rule,  No despicable gift; surmise not then                                340  His presence to these narrow bounds confin'd  Of Paradise or Eden: this had been  Perhaps thy Capital Seate, from whence had spred  All generations, and had hither come  From all the ends of th' Earth, to celebrate  And reverence thee thir great Progenitor.  But this praeeminence thou hast lost, brought down  To dwell on eeven ground now with thy Sons:  Yet doubt not but in Vallie and in Plaine  God is as here, and will be found alike                             350  Present, and of his presence many a signe  Still following thee, still compassing thee round  With goodness and paternal Love, his Face  Express, and of his steps the track Divine.  Which that thou mayst beleeve, and be confirmd,  Ere thou from hence depart, know I am sent  To shew thee what shall come in future dayes  To thee and to thy Ofspring; good with bad  Expect to hear, supernal Grace contending  With sinfulness of Men; thereby to learn                            360  True patience, and to temper joy with fear  And pious sorrow, equally enur'd  By moderation either state to beare,  Prosperous or adverse: so shalt thou lead  Safest thy life, and best prepar'd endure  Thy mortal passage when it comes. Ascend  This Hill; let Eve (for I have drencht her eyes)  Here sleep below while thou to foresight wak'st,  As once thou slepst, while Shee to life was formd.  To whom thus Adam gratefully repli'd.                               370  Ascend, I follow thee, safe Guide, the path  Thou lead'st me, and to the hand of Heav'n submit,  However chast'ning, to the evil turne  My obvious breast, arming to overcom  By suffering, and earne rest from labour won,  If so I may attain. So both ascend  In the Visions of God: It was a Hill  Of Paradise the highest, from whose top  The Hemisphere of Earth in cleerest Ken  Stretcht out to amplest reach of prospect lay.                      380  Not higher that Hill nor wider looking round,  Whereon for different cause the Tempter set  Our second Adam in the Wilderness,  To shew him all Earths Kingdomes and thir Glory.  His Eye might there command wherever stood  City of old or modern Fame, the Seat  Of mightiest Empire, from the destind Walls  Of Cambalu, seat of Cathaian Can  And Samarchand by Oxus, Temirs Throne,  To Paquin of Sinaean Kings, and thence                              390  To Agra and Lahor of great Mogul  Down to the golden Chersonese, or where  The Persian in Ecbatan sate, or since  In Hispahan, or where the Russian Ksar  In Mosco, or the Sultan in Bizance,  Turchestan-born; nor could his eye not ken  Th' Empire of Negus to his utmost Port  Ercoco and the less Maritine Kings  Mombaza, and Quiloa, and Melind,  And Sofala thought Ophir, to the Realme                             400  Of Congo, and Angola fardest South;  Or thence from Niger Flood to Atlas Mount  The Kingdoms of Almansor, Fez, and Sus,  Marocco and Algiers, and Tremisen;  On Europe thence, and where Rome was to sway  The World: in Spirit perhaps he also saw  Rich Mexico the seat of Motezume,  And Cusco in Peru, the richer seat  Of Atabalipa, and yet unspoil'd  Guiana, whose great Citie Geryons Sons                              410  Call El Dorado: but to nobler sights  Michael from Adams eyes the Filme remov'd  Which that false Fruit that promis'd clearer sight  Had bred; then purg'd with Euphrasie and Rue  The visual Nerve, for he had much to see;  And from the Well of Life three drops instill'd.  So deep the power of these Ingredients pierc'd,  Eevn to the inmost seat of mental sight,  That Adam now enforc't to close his eyes,  Sunk down and all his Spirits became intranst:                      420  But him the gentle Angel by the hand  Soon rais'd, and his attention thus recall'd.  Adam, now ope thine eyes, and first behold  Th' effects which thy original crime hath wrought  In some to spring from thee, who never touch'd  Th' excepted Tree, nor with the Snake conspir'd,  Nor sinn'd thy sin, yet from that sin derive  Corruption to bring forth more violent deeds.  His eyes he op'nd, and beheld a field,  Part arable and tilth, whereon were Sheaves                         430  New reapt, the other part sheep-walks and foulds;  Ith' midst an Altar as the Land-mark stood  Rustic, of grassie sord; thither anon  A sweatie Reaper from his Tillage brought  First Fruits, the green Eare, and the yellow Sheaf,  Uncull'd, as came to hand; a Shepherd next  More meek came with the Firstlings of his Flock  Choicest and best; then sacrificing, laid  The Inwards and thir Fat, with Incense strew'd,  On the cleft Wood, and all due Rites perform'd.                     440  His Offring soon propitious Fire from Heav'n  Consum'd with nimble glance, and grateful steame;  The others not, for his was not sincere;  Whereat hee inlie rag'd, and as they talk'd,  Smote him into the Midriff with a stone  That beat out life; he fell, and deadly pale  Groand out his Soul with gushing bloud effus'd.  Much at that sight was Adam in his heart  Dismai'd, and thus in haste to th' Angel cri'd.  O Teacher, some great mischief hath befall'n                        450  To that meek man, who well had sacrific'd;  Is Pietie thus and pure Devotion paid?  T' whom Michael thus, hee also mov'd, repli'd.  These two are Brethren, Adam, and to come  Out of thy loyns; th' unjust the just hath slain,  For envie that his Brothers Offering found  From Heav'n acceptance; but the bloodie Fact  Will be aveng'd, and th' others Faith approv'd  Loose no reward, though here thou see him die,  Rowling in dust and gore. To which our Sire.                        460  Alas, both for the deed and for the cause!  But have I now seen Death? Is this the way  I must return to native dust? O sight  Of terrour, foul and ugly to behold,  Horrid to think, how horrible to feel!  To whom thus Michael. Death thou hast seen  In his first shape on man; but many shapes  Of Death, and many are the wayes that lead  To his grim Cave, all dismal; yet to sense  More terrible at th' entrance then within.                          470  Some, as thou saw'st, by violent stroke shall die,  By Fire, Flood, Famin, by Intemperance more  In Meats and Drinks, which on the Earth shal bring  Diseases dire, of which a monstrous crew  Before thee shall appear; that thou mayst know  What miserie th' inabstinence of Eve  Shall bring on men. Immediately a place  Before his eyes appeard, sad, noysom, dark,  A Lazar-house it seemd, wherein were laid  Numbers of all diseas'd, all maladies                               480  Of gastly Spasm, or racking torture, qualmes  Of heart-sick Agonie, all feavorous kinds,  Convulsions, Epilepsies, fierce Catarrhs,  Intestin Stone and Ulcer, Colic pangs,  Dropsies, and Asthma's, and Joint-racking Rheums.  Dire was the tossing, deep the groans, despair  Tended the sick busiest from Couch to Couch;  And over them triumphant Death his Dart  Shook, but delaid to strike, though oft invok't  With vows, as thir chief good, and final hope.                      490  Sight so deform what heart of Rock could long  Drie-ey'd behold? Adam could not, but wept,  Though not of Woman born; compassion quell'd  His best of Man, and gave him up to tears  A space, till firmer thoughts restraind excess,  And scarce recovering words his plaint renew'd.  O miserable Mankind, to what fall  Degraded, to what wretched state reserv'd?  Better end heer unborn. Why is life giv'n  To be thus wrested from us? rather why                              500  Obtruded on us thus? who if we knew  What we receive, would either not accept  Life offer'd, or soon beg to lay it down,  Glad to be so dismist in peace. Can thus  Th' Image of God in man created once  So goodly and erect, though faultie since,  To such unsightly sufferings be debas't  Under inhuman pains? Why should not Man,  Retaining still Divine similitude  In part, from such deformities be free,                             510  And for his Makers Image sake exempt?  Thir Makers Image, answerd Michael, then  Forsook them, when themselves they villifi'd  To serve ungovern'd appetite, and took  His Image whom they serv'd, a brutish vice,  Inductive mainly to the sin of Eve.  Therefore so abject is thir punishment,  Disfiguring not Gods likeness, but thir own,  Or if his likeness, by themselves defac't  While they pervert pure Natures healthful rules                     520  To loathsom sickness, worthily, since they  Gods Image did not reverence in themselves.  I yeild it just, said Adam, and submit.  But is there yet no other way, besides  These painful passages, how we may come  To Death, and mix with our connatural dust?  There is, said Michael, if thou well observe  The rule of not too much, by temperance taught  In what thou eatst and drinkst, seeking from thence  Due nourishment, not gluttonous delight,                            530  Till many years over thy head return:  So maist thou live, till like ripe Fruit thou drop  Into thy Mothers lap, or be with ease  Gatherd, not harshly pluckt, for death mature:  This is old age; but then thou must outlive  Thy youth, thy strength, thy beauty, which will change  To witherd weak & gray; thy Senses then  Obtuse, all taste of pleasure must forgoe,  To what thou hast, and for the Aire of youth  Hopeful and cheerful, in thy blood will reigne                      540  A melancholly damp of cold and dry  To waigh thy spirits down, and last consume  The Balme of Life. To whom our Ancestor.  Henceforth I flie not Death, nor would prolong  Life much, bent rather how I may be quit  Fairest and easiest of this combrous charge,  Which I must keep till my appointed day  Of rendring up, Michael to him repli'd.  Nor love thy Life, nor hate; but what thou livst  Live well, how long or short permit to Heav'n:                      550  And now prepare thee for another sight.  He lookd and saw a spacious Plaine, whereon  Were Tents of various hue; by some were herds  Of Cattel grazing: others, whence the sound  Of Instruments that made melodious chime  Was heard, of Harp and Organ; and who moovd  Thir stops and chords was seen: his volant touch  Instinct through all proportions low and high  Fled and pursu'd transverse the resonant fugue.  In other part stood one who at the Forge                            560  Labouring, two massie clods of Iron and Brass  Had melted (whether found where casual fire  Had wasted woods on Mountain or in Vale,  Down to the veins of Earth, thence gliding hot  To som Caves mouth, or whether washt by stream  From underground) the liquid Ore he dreind  Into fit moulds prepar'd; from which he formd  First his own Tooles; then, what might else be wrought  Fusile or grav'n in mettle. After these,  But on the hether side a different sort                             570  From the high neighbouring Hills, which was thir Seat,  Down to the Plain descended: by thir guise  Just men they seemd, and all thir study bent  To worship God aright, and know his works  Not hid, nor those things lost which might preserve  Freedom and Peace to men: they on the Plain  Long had not walkt, when from the Tents behold  A Beavie of fair Women, richly gay  In Gems and wanton dress; to the Harp they sung  Soft amorous Ditties, and in dance came on:                         580  The Men though grave, ey'd them, and let thir eyes  Rove without rein, till in the amorous Net  Fast caught, they lik'd, and each his liking chose;  And now of love they treat till th' Eevning Star  Loves Harbinger appeerd; then all in heat  They light the Nuptial Torch, and bid invoke  Hymen, then first to marriage Rites invok't;  With Feast and Musick all the Tents resound.  Such happy interview and fair event  Of love & youth not lost, Songs, Garlands, Flours,                  590  And charming Symphonies attach'd the heart  Of Adam, soon enclin'd to admit delight,  The bent of Nature; which he thus express'd.  True opener of mine eyes, prime Angel blest,  Much better seems this Vision, and more hope  Of peaceful dayes portends, then those two past;  Those were of hate and death, or pain much worse,  Here Nature seems fulfilld in all her ends.  To whom thus Michael. Judg not what is best  By pleasure, though to Nature seeming meet,                         600  Created, as thou art, to nobler end  Holie and pure, conformitie divine.  Those Tents thou sawst so pleasant, were the Tents  Of wickedness, wherein shall dwell his Race  Who slew his Brother; studious they appere  Of Arts that polish Life, Inventers rare,  Unmindful of thir Maker, though his Spirit  Taught them, but they his gifts acknowledg'd none.  Yet they a beauteous ofspring shall beget;  For that fair femal Troop thou sawst, that seemd                    610  Of Goddesses, so blithe, so smooth, so gay,  Yet empty of all good wherein consists  Womans domestic honour and chief praise;  Bred onely and completed to the taste  Of lustful appetence, to sing, to dance,  To dress, and troule the Tongue, and roule the Eye.  To these that sober Race of Men, whose lives  Religious titl'd them the Sons of God,  Shall yeild up all thir vertue, all thir fame  Ignobly, to the trains and to the smiles                            620  Of these fair Atheists, and now swim in joy,  (Erelong to swim at larg) and laugh; for which  The world erelong a world of tears must weepe.  To whom thus Adam of short joy bereft.  O pittie and shame, that they who to live well  Enterd so faire, should turn aside to tread  Paths indirect, or in the mid way faint!  But still I see the tenor of Mans woe  Holds on the same, from Woman to begin.  From Mans effeminate slackness it begins,                           630  Said th' Angel, who should better hold his place  By wisdome, and superiour gifts receavd.  But now prepare thee for another Scene.  He lookd and saw wide Territorie spred  Before him, Towns, and rural works between,  Cities of Men with lofty Gates and Towrs,  Concours in Arms, fierce Faces threatning Warr,  Giants of mightie Bone, and bould emprise;  Part wield thir Arms, part courb the foaming Steed,  Single or in Array of Battel rang'd                                 640  Both Horse and Foot, nor idely mustring stood;  One way a Band select from forage drives  A herd of Beeves, faire Oxen and faire Kine  From a fat Meddow ground; or fleecy Flock,  Ewes and thir bleating Lambs over the Plaine,  Thir Bootie; scarce with Life the Shepherds flye,  But call in aide, which tacks a bloody Fray;  With cruel Tournament the Squadrons joine;  Where Cattel pastur'd late, now scatterd lies  With Carcasses and Arms th' ensanguind Field                        650  Deserted: Others to a Citie strong  Lay Siege, encampt; by Batterie, Scale, and Mine,  Assaulting; others from the Wall defend  With Dart and Jav'lin, Stones and sulfurous Fire;  On each hand slaughter and gigantic deeds.  In other part the scepter'd Haralds call  To Council in the Citie Gates: anon  Grey-headed men and grave, with Warriours mixt,  Assemble, and Harangues are heard, but soon  In factious opposition, till at last                                660  Of middle Age one rising, eminent  In wise deport, spake much of Right and Wrong,  Of Justice, of Religion, Truth and Peace,  And Judgement from above: him old and young  Exploded, and had seiz'd with violent hands,  Had not a Cloud descending snatch'd him thence  Unseen amid the throng: so violence  Proceeded, and Oppression, and Sword-Law  Through all the Plain, and refuge none was found.  Adam was all in tears, and to his guide                             670  Lamenting turnd full sad; O what are these,  Deaths Ministers, not Men, who thus deal Death  Inhumanly to men, and multiply  Ten thousand fould the sin of him who slew  His Brother; for of whom such massacher  Make they but of thir Brethren, men of men?  But who was that Just Man, whom had not Heav'n  Rescu'd, had in his Righteousness bin lost?  To whom thus Michael; These are the product  Of those ill-mated Marriages thou saw'st;                           680  Where good with bad were matcht, who of themselves  Abhor to joyn; and by imprudence mixt,  Produce prodigious Births of bodie or mind.  Such were these Giants, men of high renown;  For in those dayes Might onely shall be admir'd,  And Valour and Heroic Vertu call'd;  To overcome in Battel, and subdue  Nations, and bring home spoils with infinite  Man-slaughter, shall be held the highest pitch  Of human Glorie, and for Glorie done                                690  Of triumph, to be styl'd great Conquerours,  Patrons of Mankind, Gods, and Sons of Gods,  Destroyers rightlier call'd and Plagues of men.  Thus Fame shall be achiev'd, renown on Earth,  And what most merits fame in silence hid.  But hee the seventh from thee, whom thou beheldst  The onely righteous in a World perverse,  And therefore hated, therefore so beset  With Foes for daring single to be just,  And utter odious Truth, that God would come                         700  To judge them with his Saints: Him the most High  Rapt in a balmie Cloud with winged Steeds  Did, as thou sawst, receave, to walk with God  High in Salvation and the Climes of bliss,  Exempt from Death; to shew thee what reward  Awaits the good, the rest what punishment;  Which now direct thine eyes and soon behold.  He look'd, & saw the face of things quite chang'd;  The brazen Throat of Warr had ceast to roar,  All now was turn'd to jollitie and game,                            710  To luxurie and riot, feast and dance,  Marrying or prostituting, as befell,  Rape or Adulterie, where passing faire  Allurd them; thence from Cups to civil Broiles.  At length a Reverend Sire among them came,  And of thir doings great dislike declar'd,  And testifi'd against thir wayes; hee oft  Frequented thir Assemblies, whereso met,  Triumphs or Festivals, and to them preachd  Conversion and Repentance, as to Souls                              720  In prison under Judgements imminent:  But all in vain: which when he saw, he ceas'd  Contending, and remov'd his Tents farr off;  Then from the Mountain hewing Timber tall,  Began to build a Vessel of huge bulk,
435s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

Measur'd by Cubit, length, & breadth, and highth,  Smeard round with Pitch, and in the side a dore  Contriv'd, and of provisions laid in large  For Man and Beast: when loe a wonder strange!  Of everie Beast, and Bird, and Insect small                         730  Came seavens, and pairs, and enterd in, as taught  Thir order; last the Sire, and his three Sons  With thir four Wives, and God made fast the dore.  Meanwhile the Southwind rose, & with black wings  Wide hovering, all the Clouds together drove  From under Heav'n; the Hills to their supplie  Vapour, and Exhalation dusk and moist,  Sent up amain; and now the thick'nd Skie  Like a dark Ceeling stood; down rush'd the Rain  Impetuous, and continu'd till the Earth                             740  No more was seen; the floating Vessel swum  Uplifted; and secure with beaked prow  Rode tilting o're the Waves, all dwellings else  Flood overwhelmd, and them with all thir pomp  Deep under water rould; Sea cover'd Sea,
432s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

Sea without shoar; and in thir Palaces  Where luxurie late reign'd, Sea-monsters whelp'd  And stabl'd; of Mankind, so numerous late,  All left, in one small bottom swum imbark't.  How didst thou grieve then, Adam, to behold                         750  The end of all thy Ofspring, end so sad,  Depopulation; thee another Floud,  Of tears and sorrow a Floud thee also drown'd,  And sunk thee as thy Sons; till gently reard  By th' Angel, on thy feet thou stoodst at last,  Though comfortless, as when a Father mourns  His Childern, all in view destroyd at once;  And scarce to th' Angel utterdst thus thy plaint.  O Visions ill foreseen! better had I  Liv'd ignorant of future, so had borne                              760  My part of evil onely, each dayes lot  Anough to bear; those now, that were dispenst  The burd'n of many Ages, on me light  At once, by my foreknowledge gaining Birth  Abortive, to torment me ere thir being,  With thought that they must be. Let no man seek  Henceforth to be foretold what shall befall  Him or his Childern, evil he may be sure,  Which neither his foreknowing can prevent,  And hee the future evil shall no less                               770  In apprehension then in substance feel  Grievous to bear: but that care now is past,  Man is not whom to warne: those few escap't  Famin and anguish will at last consume  Wandring that watrie Desert: I had hope  When violence was ceas't, and Warr on Earth,  All would have then gon well, peace would have crownd  With length of happy days the race of man;  But I was farr deceav'd; for now I see  Peace to corrupt no less then Warr to waste.                        780  How comes it thus? unfould, Celestial Guide,  And whether here the Race of man will end.  To whom thus Michael. Those whom last thou sawst  In triumph and luxurious wealth, are they  First seen in acts of prowess eminent  And great exploits, but of true vertu void;  Who having spilt much blood, and don much waste  Subduing Nations, and achievd thereby  Fame in the World, high titles, and rich prey,  Shall change thir course to pleasure, ease, and sloth,              790  Surfet, and lust, till wantonness and pride  Raise out of friendship hostil deeds in Peace.  The conquerd also, and enslav'd by Warr  Shall with thir freedom lost all vertu loose  And feare of God, from whom thir pietie feign'd  In sharp contest of Battel found no aide  Against invaders; therefore coold in zeale  Thenceforth shall practice how to live secure,  Worldlie or dissolute, on what thir Lords  Shall leave them to enjoy; for th' Earth shall bear                 800  More then anough, that temperance may be tri'd:  So all shall turn degenerate, all deprav'd,  Justice and Temperance, Truth and Faith forgot;  One Man except, the onely Son of light  In a dark Age, against example good,  Against allurement, custom, and a World  Offended; fearless of reproach and scorn,  Or violence, hee of thir wicked wayes  Shall them admonish, and before them set  The paths of righteousness, how much more safe,                     810  And full of peace, denouncing wrauth to come  On thir impenitence; and shall returne  Of them derided, but of God observd  The one just Man alive; by his command  Shall build a wondrous Ark, as thou beheldst,  To save himself and houshold from amidst  A World devote to universal rack.  No sooner hee with them of Man and Beast  Select for life shall in the Ark be lodg'd,  And shelterd round, but all the Cataracts                           820  Of Heav'n set open on the Earth shall powre  Raine day and night, all fountaines of the Deep  Broke up, shall heave the Ocean to usurp  Beyond all bounds, till inundation rise  Above the highest Hills: then shall this Mount  Of Paradise by might of Waves be moovd  Out of his place, pushd by the horned floud,  With all his verdure spoil'd, and Trees adrift  Down the great River to the op'ning Gulf,  And there take root an Iland salt and bare,                         830  The haunt of Seales and Orcs, and Sea-mews clang.  To teach thee that God attributes to place  No sanctitie, if none be thither brought  By Men who there frequent, or therein dwell.  And now what further shall ensue, behold.  He lookd, and saw the Ark hull on the floud,  Which now abated, for the Clouds were fled,  Drivn by a keen North-winde, that blowing drie  Wrinkl'd the face of Deluge, as decai'd;  And the cleer Sun on his wide watrie Glass                          840  Gaz'd hot, and of the fresh Wave largely drew,  As after thirst, which made thir flowing shrink  From standing lake to tripping ebbe, that stole  With soft foot towards the deep, who now had stopt  His Sluces, as the Heav'n his windows shut.  The Ark no more now flotes, but seems on ground  Fast on the top of som high mountain fixt.  And now the tops of Hills as Rocks appeer;  With clamor thence the rapid Currents drive  Towards the retreating Sea thir furious tyde.                       850  Forthwith from out the Arke a Raven flies,  And after him, the surer messenger,  A Dove sent forth once and agen to spie  Green Tree or ground whereon his foot may light;  The second time returning, in his Bill  An Olive leafe he brings, pacific signe:  Anon drie ground appeers, and from his Arke  The ancient Sire descends with all his Train;  Then with uplifted hands, and eyes devout,  Grateful to Heav'n, over his head beholds                           860  A dewie Cloud, and in the Cloud a Bow  Conspicuous with three lifted colours gay,  Betok'ning peace from God, and Cov'nant new.  Whereat the heart of Adam erst so sad  Greatly rejoyc'd, and thus his joy broke forth.  O thou that future things canst represent  As present, Heav'nly instructer, I revive  At this last sight, assur'd that Man shall live  With all the Creatures, and thir seed preserve.  Farr less I now lament for one whole World                          870  Of wicked Sons destroyd, then I rejoyce  For one Man found so perfet and so just,  That God voutsafes to raise another World  From him, and all his anger to forget.  But say, what mean those colourd streaks in Heavn,  Distended as the Brow of God appeas'd,  Or serve they as a flourie verge to binde  The fluid skirts of that same watrie Cloud,  Least it again dissolve and showr the Earth?  To whom th' Archangel. Dextrously thou aim'st;                      880  So willingly doth God remit his Ire,  Though late repenting him of Man deprav'd,  Griev'd at his heart, when looking down he saw  The whole Earth fill'd with violence, and all flesh  Corrupting each thir way; yet those remoov'd,  Such grace shall one just Man find in his sight,  That he relents, not to blot out mankind,  And makes a Covenant never to destroy  The Earth again by flood, nor let the Sea  Surpass his bounds, nor Rain to drown the World                     890  With Man therein or Beast; but when he brings  Over the Earth a Cloud, will therein set  His triple-colour'd Bow, whereon to look  And call to mind his Cov'nant: Day and Night,  Seed time and Harvest, Heat and hoary Frost  Shall hold thir course, till fire purge all things new,  Both Heav'n and Earth, wherein the just shall dwell.  Notes:  484 After this line, 1674 adds:      Daemoniac Phrenzie, moaping Melancholie      And Moon struck madness, pining Atrophie,      Marasmus, and wide wasting Pestilence,  548 Of rendring up, and patiently attend      My dissolution.  Michael repli'd 1674.  647 tacks] makes 1674.  866 that] who 1674.  The end of the Eleventh Book.





BOOK XII.

THE ARGUMENT.

The Angel Michael continues from the Flood to relate whatshall succeed; then, in the mention of Abraham, comes by degreesto explain who that Seed of the Woman shall be, which waspromised Adam and Eve in the Fall; his Incarnation, Death,Resurrection, and Ascention; the state of the Church till hissecond Coming. Adam greatly satisfied and recomforted by theseRelations and Promises descends the Hill with Michael; wakensEve, who all this while had slept, but with gentle dreamscompos'd to quietness of mind and submission. Michael in eitherhand leads them out of Paradise, the fiery Sword waving behindthem, and the Cherubim taking thir Stations to guard thePlace.

[As one who in his journey bates at Noone  Though bent on speed, so heer the Archangel' paus'd  Betwixt the world destroy'd and world restor'd,  If Adam aught perhaps might interpose;  Then with transition sweet new Speech resumes]  Thus thou hast seen one World begin and end;  And Man as from a second stock proceed.  Much thou hast yet to see, but I perceave  Thy mortal sight to faile; objects divine  Must needs impaire and wearie human sense:                           10  Henceforth what is to com I will relate,  Thou therefore give due audience, and attend.  This second sours of Men, while yet but few,  And while the dread of judgement past remains  Fresh in thir mindes, fearing the Deitie,  With some regard to what is just and right  Shall lead thir lives, and multiplie apace,  Labouring the soile, and reaping plenteous crop,  Corn wine and oyle; and from the herd or flock,  Oft sacrificing Bullock, Lamb, or Kid,                               20  With large Wine-offerings pour'd, and sacred Feast  Shal spend thir dayes in joy unblam'd, and dwell  Long time in peace by Families and Tribes  Under paternal rule; till one shall rise  Of proud ambitious heart, who not content  With fair equalitie, fraternal state,  Will arrogate Dominion undeserv'd  Over his brethren, and quite dispossess  Concord and law of Nature from the Earth;  Hunting (and Men not Beasts shall be his game)                       30  With Warr and hostile snare such as refuse  Subjection to his Empire tyrannous:  A mightie Hunter thence he shall be styl'd  Before the Lord, as in despite of Heav'n,  Or from Heav'n claming second Sovrantie;  And from Rebellion shall derive his name,  Though of Rebellion others he accuse.  Hee with a crew, whom like Ambition joyns  With him or under him to tyrannize,  Marching from Eden towards the West, shall finde                     40  The Plain, wherein a black bituminous gurge  Boiles out from under ground, the mouth of Hell;  Of Brick, and of that stuff they cast to build  A Citie & Towre, whose top may reach to Heav'n;  And get themselves a name, least far disperst  In foraign Lands thir memorie be lost,  Regardless whether good or evil fame.  But God who oft descends to visit men  Unseen, and through thir habitations walks  To mark thir doings, them beholding soon,                            50  Comes down to see thir Citie, ere the Tower  Obstruct Heav'n Towrs, and in derision sets  Upon thir Tongues a various Spirit to rase  Quite out thir Native Language, and instead  To sow a jangling noise of words unknown:  Forthwith a hideous gabble rises loud  Among the Builders; each to other calls  Not understood, till hoarse, and all in rage,  As mockt they storm; great laughter was in Heav'n  And looking down, to see the hubbub strange                          60  And hear the din; thus was the building left  Ridiculous, and the work Confusion nam'd.  Whereto thus Adam fatherly displeas'd.  O execrable Son so to aspire  Above his Brethren, to himself affirming  Authoritie usurpt, from God not giv'n:  He gave us onely over Beast, Fish, Fowl  Dominion absolute; that right we hold  By his donation; but Man over men  He made not Lord; such title to himself                              70  Reserving, human left from human free.  But this Usurper his encroachment proud  Stayes not on Man; to God his Tower intends  Siege and defiance: Wretched man! what food  Will he convey up thither to sustain  Himself and his rash Armie, where thin Aire  Above the Clouds will pine his entrails gross,  And famish him of Breath, if not of Bread?  To whom thus Michael. Justly thou abhorr'st  That Son, who on the quiet state of men                              80  Such trouble brought, affecting to subdue  Rational Libertie; yet know withall,  Since thy original lapse, true Libertie  Is lost, which alwayes with right Reason dwells  Twinn'd, and from her hath no dividual being:  Reason in man obscur'd, or not obeyd,  Immediately inordinate desires  And upstart Passions catch the Government  From Reason, and to servitude reduce  Man till then free. Therefore since hee permits                      90  Within himself unworthie Powers to reign  Over free Reason, God in Judgement just  Subjects him from without to violent Lords;  Who oft as undeservedly enthrall  His outward freedom: Tyrannie must be,  Though to the Tyrant thereby no excuse.  Yet somtimes Nations will decline so low  From vertue, which is reason, that no wrong,  But Justice, and some fatal curse annext  Deprives them of thir outward libertie,                             100  Thir inward lost: Witness th' irreverent Son  Of him who built the Ark, who for the shame  Don to his Father, heard this heavie curse,  Servant Of Servants, on his vitious Race.  Thus will this latter, as the former World,  Still tend from bad to worse, till God at last  Wearied with their iniquities, withdraw  His presence from among them, and avert  His holy Eyes; resolving from thenceforth  To leave them to thir own polluted wayes;                           110  And one peculiar Nation to select  From all the rest, of whom to be invok'd,  A Nation from one faithful man to spring:  Him on this side Euphrates yet residing,  Bred up in Idol-worship; O that men  (Canst thou believe?) should be so stupid grown,  While yet the Patriark liv'd, who scap'd the Flood,  As to forsake the living God, and fall  To-worship thir own work in Wood and Stone  For Gods! yet him God the most High voutsafes                       120  To call by Vision from his Fathers house,  His kindred and false Gods, into a Land  Which he will shew him, and from him will raise  A mightie Nation, and upon him showre  His benediction so, that in his Seed  All Nations shall be blest; hee straight obeys,  Not knowing to what Land, yet firm believes:  I see him, but thou canst not, with what Faith  He leaves his Gods, his Friends, and native Soile  Ur of Chaldaea, passing now the Ford                                130  To Haran, after him a cumbrous Train  Of Herds and Flocks, and numerous servitude;  Not wandring poor, but trusting all his wealth  With God, who call'd him, in a land unknown.  Canaan he now attains, I see his Tents  Pitcht about Sechem, and the neighbouring Plaine  Of Moreb; there by promise he receaves  Gift to his Progenie of all that Land;  From Hamath Northward to the Desert South  (Things by thir names I call, though yet unnam'd)                   140  From Hermon East to the great Western Sea,  Mount Hermon, yonder Sea, each place behold  In prospect, as I point them; on the shoare  Mount Carmel; here the double-founted stream  Jordan, true limit Eastward; but his Sons  Shall dwell to Senir, that long ridge of Hills.  This ponder, that all Nations of the Earth  Shall in his Seed be blessed; by that Seed  Is meant thy great deliverer, who shall bruise  The Serpents head; whereof to thee anon                             150  Plainlier shall be reveald. This Patriarch blest,  Whom Faithful Abraham due time shall call,  A Son, and of his Son a Grand-childe leaves,  Like him in faith, in wisdom, and renown;  The Grandchilde with twelve Sons increast, departs  From Canaan, to a Land hereafter call'd  Egypt, divided by the River Nile;  See where it flows, disgorging at seaven mouthes  Into the Sea: to sojourn in that Land  He comes invited by a yonger Son                                    160  In time of dearth, a Son whose worthy deeds  Raise him to be the second in that Realme  Of Pharao: there he dies, and leaves his Race  Growing into a Nation, and now grown  Suspected to a sequent King, who seeks  To stop thir overgrowth, as inmate guests  Too numerous; whence of guests he makes them slaves  Inhospitably, and kills thir infant Males:  Till by two brethren (those two brethren call  Moses and Aaron) sent from God to claime                            170  His people from enthralment, they return  With glory and spoile back to thir promis'd Land.  But first the lawless Tyrant, who denies  To know thir God, or message to regard,  Must be compelld by Signes and Judgements dire;  To blood unshed the Rivers must be turnd,  Frogs, Lice and Flies must all his Palace fill  With loath'd intrusion, and fill all the land;  His Cattel must of Rot and Murren die,  Botches and blaines must all his flesh imboss,                      180  And all his people; Thunder mixt with Haile,  Haile mixt with fire must rend th' Egyptian Skie  And wheel on th' Earth, devouring where it rouls;  What it devours not, Herb, or Fruit, or Graine,  A darksom Cloud of Locusts swarming down  Must eat, and on the ground leave nothing green:  Darkness must overshadow all his bounds,  Palpable darkness, and blot out three dayes;  Last with one midnight stroke all the first-born  Of Egypt must lie dead. Thus with ten wounds                        190  This River-dragon tam'd at length submits  To let his sojourners depart, and oft  Humbles his stubborn heart, but still as Ice  More hard'nd after thaw, till in his rage  Pursuing whom he late dismissd, the Sea  Swallows him with his Host, but them lets pass  As on drie land between two christal walls,  Aw'd by the rod of Moses so to stand  Divided, till his rescu'd gain thir shoar:  Such wondrous power God to his Saint will lend,                     200  Though present in his Angel, who shall goe  Before them in a Cloud, and Pillar of Fire,  To guide them in thir journey, and remove  Behinde them, while th' obdurat King pursues:  All night he will pursue, but his approach  Darkness defends between till morning Watch;  Then through the Firey Pillar and the Cloud  God looking forth will trouble all his Host  And craze thir Chariot wheels: when by command  Moses once more his potent Rod extends                              210  Over the Sea; the Sea his Rod obeys;  On thir imbattelld ranks the Waves return,  And overwhelm thir Warr: the Race elect  Safe towards Canaan from the shoar advance  Through the wilde Desert, not the readiest way,  Least entring on the Canaanite allarmd  Warr terrifie them inexpert, and feare  Return them back to Egypt, choosing rather  Inglorious life with servitude; for life  To noble and ignoble is more sweet                                  220  Untraind in Armes, where rashness leads not on.  This also shall they gain by thir delay  In the wide Wilderness, there they shall found  Thir government, and thir great Senate choose  Through the twelve Tribes, to rule by Laws ordaind:  God from the Mount of Sinai, whose gray top  Shall tremble, he descending, will himself  In Thunder Lightning and loud Trumpets sound  Ordaine them Lawes; part such as appertaine  To civil Justice, part religious Rites                              230  Of sacrifice, informing them, by types  And shadowes, of that destind Seed to bruise  The Serpent, by what meanes he shall achieve  Mankinds deliverance. But the voice of God  To mortal eare is dreadful; they beseech  That Moses might report to them his will,
457s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

And terror cease; he grants them thir desire,  Instructed that to God is no access  Without Mediator, whose high Office now  Moses in figure beares, to introduce                                240  One greater, of whose day he shall foretell,  And all the Prophets in thir Age the times  Of great Messiah shall sing. Thus Laws and Rites  Establisht, such delight hath God in Men  Obedient to his will, that he voutsafes  Among them to set up his Tabernacle,  The holy One with mortal Men to dwell:  By his prescript a Sanctuary is fram'd  Of Cedar, overlaid with Gold, therein  An Ark, and in the Ark his Testimony,                               250  The Records of his Cov'nant, over these  A Mercie-seat of Gold between the wings  Of two bright Cherubim, before him burn  Seaven Lamps as in a Zodiac representing  The Heav'nly fires; over the Tent a Cloud  Shall rest by Day, a fierie gleame by Night,  Save when they journie, and at length they come,  Conducted by his Angel to the Land  Promisd to Abraham and his Seed: the rest  Were long to tell, how many Battels fought,                         260  How many Kings destroyd, and Kingdoms won,  Or how the Sun shall in mid Heav'n stand still  A day entire, and Nights due course adjourne,  Mans voice commanding, Sun in Gibeon stand,  And thou Moon in the vale of Aialon,  Till Israel overcome; so call the third  From Abraham, Son of Isaac, and from him  His whole descent, who thus shall Canaan win.  Here Adam interpos'd. O sent from Heav'n,  Enlightner of my darkness, gracious things                          270  Thou hast reveald, those chiefly which concerne  Just Abraham and his Seed: now first I finde  Mine eyes true op'ning, and my heart much eas'd,  Erwhile perplext with thoughts what would becom  Of mee and all Mankind; but now I see  His day, in whom all Nations shall be blest,  Favour unmerited by me, who sought  Forbidd'n knowledge by forbidd'n means.  This yet I apprehend not, why to those  Among whom God will deigne to dwell on Earth                        280  So many and so various Laws are giv'n;  So many Laws argue so many sins  Among them; how can God with such reside?  To whom thus Michael. Doubt not but that sin  Will reign among them, as of thee begot;  And therefore was Law given them to evince  Thir natural pravitie, by stirring up  Sin against Law to fight; that when they see  Law can discover sin, but not remove,  Save by those shadowie expiations weak,                             290  The bloud of Bulls and Goats, they may conclude  Some bloud more precious must be paid for Man,  Just for unjust, that in such righteousness  To them by Faith imputed, they may finde  Justification towards God, and peace  Of Conscience, which the Law by Ceremonies  Cannot appease, nor Man the moral part  Perform, and not performing cannot live.  So Law appears imperfet, and but giv'n  With purpose to resign them in full time                            300  Up to a better Cov'nant, disciplin'd  From shadowie Types to Truth, from Flesh to Spirit,  From imposition of strict Laws, to free  Acceptance of large Grace, from servil fear  To filial, works of Law to works of Faith.  And therefore shall not Moses, though of God  Highly belov'd, being but the Minister  Of Law, his people into Canaan lead;  But Joshua whom the Gentiles Jesus call,  His Name and Office bearing, who shall quell                        310  The adversarie Serpent, and bring back  Through the worlds wilderness long wanderd man  Safe to eternal Paradise of rest.  Meanwhile they in thir earthly Canaan plac't  Long time shall dwell and prosper, but when sins  National interrupt thir public peace,  Provoking God to raise them enemies:  From whom as oft he saves them penitent  By Judges first, then under Kings; of whom  The second, both for pietie renownd                                 320  And puissant deeds, a promise shall receive  Irrevocable, that his Regal Throne  For ever shall endure; the like shall sing  All Prophecie, That of the Royal Stock  Of David (so I name this King) shall rise  A Son, the Womans Seed to thee foretold,  Foretold to Abraham, as in whom shall trust  All Nations, and to Kings foretold, of Kings  The last, for of his Reign shall be no end.  But first a long succession must ensue,                             330  And his next Son for Wealth and Wisdom fam'd,  The clouded Ark of God till then in Tents  Wandring, shall in a glorious Temple enshrine.  Such follow him, as shall be registerd  Part good, part bad, of bad the longer scrowle,  Whose foul Idolatries, and other faults  Heapt to the popular summe, will so incense  God, as to leave them, and expose thir Land,  Thir Citie, his Temple, and his holy Ark  With all his sacred things, a scorn and prey                        340  To that proud Citie, whose high Walls thou saw'st  Left in confusion, Babylon thence call'd.  There in captivitie he lets them dwell  The space of seventie years, then brings them back,  Remembring mercie, and his Cov'nant sworn  To David, stablisht as the dayes of Heav'n.  Returnd from Babylon by leave of Kings  Thir Lords, whom God dispos'd, the house of God  They first re-edifie, and for a while  In mean estate live moderate, till grown                            350  In wealth and multitude, factious they grow;  But first among the Priests dissension springs,  Men who attend the Altar, and should most  Endeavour Peace: thir strife pollution brings  Upon the Temple it self: at last they seise  The Scepter, and regard not Davids Sons,  Then loose it to a stranger, that the true  Anointed King Messiah might be born  Barr'd of his right; yet at his Birth a Starr  Unseen before in Heav'n proclaims him com,                          360  And guides the Eastern Sages, who enquire  His place, to offer Incense, Myrrh, and Gold;  His place of birth a solemn Angel tells  To simple Shepherds, keeping watch by night;  They gladly thither haste, and by a Quire  Of squadrond Angels hear his Carol sung.  A Virgin is his Mother, but his Sire  The Power of the most High; he shall ascend  The Throne hereditarie, and bound his Reign  With earths wide bounds, his glory with the Heav'ns.                370  He ceas'd, discerning Adam with such joy  Surcharg'd, as had like grief bin dew'd in tears,  Without the vent of words, which these he breathd.  O Prophet of glad tidings, finisher  Of utmost hope! now clear I understand  What oft my steddiest thoughts have searcht in vain,  Why our great expectation should be call'd  The seed of Woman: Virgin Mother, Haile,  High in the love of Heav'n, yet from my Loynes  Thou shalt proceed, and from thy Womb the Son                       380  Of God most High; So God with man unites.  Needs must the Serpent now his capital bruise  Expect with mortal paine: say where and when  Thir fight, what stroke shall bruise the Victors heel.  To whom thus Michael. Dream not of thir fight,  As of a Duel, or the local wounds  Of head or heel: not therefore joynes the Son  Manhood to God-head, with more strength to foil  Thy enemie; nor so is overcome  Satan, whose fall from Heav'n, a deadlier bruise,                   390  Disabl'd not to give thee thy deaths wound:  Which hee, who comes thy Saviour, shall recure,  Not by destroying Satan, but his works  In thee and in thy Seed: nor can this be,  But by fulfilling that which thou didst want,  Obedience to the Law of God, impos'd  On penaltie of death, and suffering death,  The penaltie to thy transgression due,  And due to theirs which out of thine will grow:  So onely can high Justice rest appaid.                              400  The Law of God exact he shall fulfill  Both by obedience and by love, though love  Alone fulfill the Law; thy punishment  He shall endure by coming in the Flesh  To a reproachful life and cursed death,  Proclaiming Life to all who shall believe  In his redemption, and that his obedience  Imputed becomes theirs by Faith, his merits  To save them, not thir own, though legal works.  For this he shall live hated, be blasphem'd,                        410  Seis'd on by force, judg'd, and to death condemnd  A shameful and accurst, naild to the Cross  By his own Nation, slaine for bringing Life;  But to the Cross he nailes thy Enemies,  The Law that is against thee, and the sins  Of all mankinde, with him there crucifi'd,  Never to hurt them more who rightly trust  In this his satisfaction; so he dies,  But soon revives, Death over him no power  Shall long usurp; ere the third dawning light                       420  Returne, the Starres of Morn shall see him rise  Out of his grave, fresh as the dawning light,  Thy ransom paid, which Man from death redeems,  His death for Man, as many as offerd Life  Neglect not, and the benefit imbrace  By Faith not void of works: this God-like act  Annuls thy doom, the death thou shouldst have dy'd,  In sin for ever lost from life; this act  Shall bruise the head of Satan, crush his strength  Defeating Sin and Death, his two maine armes,                       430  And fix farr deeper in his head thir stings  Then temporal death shall bruise the Victors heel,  Or theirs whom he redeems, a death like sleep,  A gentle wafting to immortal Life.  Nor after resurrection shall he stay  Longer on Earth then certaine times to appeer  To his Disciples, Men who in his Life  Still follow'd him; to them shall leave in charge  To teach all nations what of him they learn'd  And his Salvation, them who shall beleeve                           440  Baptizing in the profluent streame, the signe  Of washing them from guilt of sin to Life  Pure, and in mind prepar'd, if so befall,  For death, like that which the redeemer dy'd.  All Nations they shall teach; for from that day  Not onely to the Sons of Abrahams Loines  Salvation shall be Preacht, but to the Sons  Of Abrahams Faith wherever through the world;  So in his seed all Nations shall be blest.  Then to the Heav'n of Heav'ns he shall ascend                       450  With victory, triumphing through the aire  Over his foes and thine; there shall surprise  The Serpent, Prince of aire, and drag in Chaines  Through all his realme, & there confounded leave;  Then enter into glory, and resume  His Seat at Gods right hand, exalted high  Above all names in Heav'n; and thence shall come,  When this worlds dissolution shall be ripe,  With glory and power to judge both quick & dead,  To judge th' unfaithful dead, but to reward                         460  His faithful, and receave them into bliss,  Whether in Heav'n or Earth, for then the Earth  Shall all be Paradise, far happier place  Then this of Eden, and far happier daies.  So spake th' Archangel Michael, then paus'd,  As at the Worlds great period; and our Sire  Replete with joy and wonder thus repli'd.  O goodness infinite, goodness immense!  That all this good of evil shall produce,  And evil turn to good; more wonderful                               470  Then that which by creation first brought forth  Light out of darkness! full of doubt I stand,  Whether I should repent me now of sin  By mee done and occasiond, or rejoyce  Much more, that much more good thereof shall spring,  To God more glory, more good will to Men  From God, and over wrauth grace shall abound.  But say, if our deliverer up to Heav'n  Must reascend, what will betide the few  His faithful, left among th' unfaithful herd,                       480  The enemies of truth; who then shall guide  His people, who defend? will they not deale  Wors with his followers then with him they dealt?  Be sure they will, said th' Angel; but from Heav'n  Hee to his own a Comforter will send,  The promise of the Father, who shall dwell  His Spirit within them, and the Law of Faith  Working through love, upon thir hearts shall write,  To guide them in all truth, and also arme  With spiritual Armour, able to resist                               490  Satans assaults, and quench his fierie darts  What Man can do against them, not affraid,  Though to the death, against such cruelties  With inward consolations recompenc't,  And oft supported so as shall amaze  Thir proudest persecuters: for the Spirit  Powrd first on his Apostles, whom he sends  To evangelize the Nations, then on all  Baptiz'd, shall them with wondrous gifts endue  To speak all Tongues, and do all Miracles,                          500  As did thir Lord before them. Thus they win  Great numbers of each Nation to receave  With joy the tidings brought from Heav'n: at length  Thir Ministry perform'd, and race well run,  Thir doctrine and thir story written left,  They die; but in thir room, as they forewarne,  Wolves shall succeed for teachers, grievous Wolves,  Who all the sacred mysteries of Heav'n  To thir own vile advantages shall turne  Of lucre and ambition, and the truth                                510  With superstitions and traditions taint,  Left onely in those written Records pure,  Though not but by the Spirit understood.  Then shall they seek to avail themselves of names,  Places and titles, and with these to joine  Secular power, though feigning still to act  By spiritual, to themselves appropriating  The Spirit of God, promisd alike and giv'n  To all Beleevers; and from that pretense,  Spiritual Lawes by carnal power shall force                         520  On every conscience; Laws which none shall finde  Left them inrould, or what the Spirit within  Shall on the heart engrave. What will they then  But force the Spirit of Grace it self, and binde  His consort Libertie; what, but unbuild  His living Temples, built by Faith to stand,  Thir own Faith not anothers: for on Earth  Who against Faith and Conscience can be heard  Infallible? yet many will presume:  Whence heavie persecution shall arise                               530  On all who in the worship persevere  Of Spirit and Truth; the rest, farr greater part,  Will deem in outward Rites and specious formes  Religion satisfi'd; Truth shall retire  Bestuck with slandrous darts, and works of Faith  Rarely be found: so shall the World goe on,  To good malignant, to bad men benigne,  Under her own waight groaning, till the day  Appeer of respiration to the just,  And vengeance to the wicked, at return                              540  Of him so lately promis'd to thy aid,  The Womans seed, obscurely then foretold,  Now amplier known thy Saviour and thy Lord,  Last in the Clouds from Heav'n to be reveald  In glory of the Father, to dissolve  Satan with his perverted World, then raise  From the conflagrant mass, purg'd and refin'd,  New Heav'ns, new Earth, Ages of endless date  Founded in righteousness and peace and love,  To bring forth fruits Joy and eternal Bliss.                        550  He ended; and thus Adam last reply'd.  How soon hath thy prediction, Seer blest,  Measur'd this transient World, the Race of time,  Till time stand fixt: beyond is all abyss,  Eternitie, whose end no eye can reach.  Greatly instructed I shall hence depart,  Greatly in peace of thought, and have my fill  Of knowledge, what this vessel can containe;  Beyond which was my folly to aspire.  Henceforth I learne, that to obey is best,                          560  And love with feare the onely God, to walk  As in his presence, ever to observe  His providence, and on him sole depend,  Merciful over all his works, with good  Still overcoming evil, and by small  Accomplishing great things, by things deemd weak  Subverting worldly strong, and worldly wise  By simply meek; that suffering for Truths sake  Is fortitude to highest victorie,  And to the faithful Death the Gate of Life;                         570  Taught this by his example whom I now  Acknowledge my Redeemer ever blest.  To whom thus also th' Angel last repli'd:  This having learnt, thou hast attaind the summe  Of wisdom; hope no higher, though all the Starrs  Thou knewst by name, and all th' ethereal Powers,  All secrets of the deep, all Natures works,  Or works of God in Heav'n, Air, Earth, or Sea,  And all the riches of this World enjoydst,  And all the rule, one Empire; onely add                             580  Deeds to thy knowledge answerable, add Faith,  Add Vertue, Patience, Temperance, add Love,  By name to come call'd Charitie, the soul  Of all the rest: then wilt thou not be loath  To leave this Paradise, but shalt possess  A Paradise within thee, happier farr.  Let us descend now therefore from this top  Of Speculation; for the hour precise  Exacts our parting hence; and see the Guards,  By mee encampt on yonder Hill, expect                               590  Thir motion, at whose Front a flaming Sword,  In signal of remove, waves fiercely round;  We may no longer stay: go, waken Eve;  Her also I with gentle Dreams have calm'd  Portending good, and all her spirits compos'd  To meek submission: thou at season fit  Let her with thee partake what thou hast heard,  Chiefly what may concern her Faith to know,  The great deliverance by her Seed to come  (For by the Womans Seed) on all Mankind.                            600  That ye may live, which will be many dayes,  Both in one Faith unanimous though sad,  With cause for evils past, yet much more cheer'd  With meditation on the happie end.  He ended, and they both descend the Hill;  Descended, Adam to the Bowre where Eve  Lay sleeping ran before, but found her wak't;  And thus with words not sad she him receav'd.  Whence thou returnst, & whither wentst, I know;  For God is also in sleep, and Dreams advise,                        610  Which he hath sent propitious, some great good  Presaging, since with sorrow and hearts distress  Wearied I fell asleep: but now lead on;  In mee is no delay; with thee to goe,  Is to stay here; without thee here to stay,  Is to go hence unwilling; thou to mee  Art all things under Heav'n, all places thou,  Who for my wilful crime art banisht hence.  This further consolation yet secure  I carry hence; though all by mee is lost,                           620  Such favour I unworthie am voutsaft,  By mee the Promis'd Seed shall all restore.  So spake our Mother Eve, and Adam heard  Well pleas'd, but answer'd not; for now too nigh  Th' Archangel stood, and from the other Hill  To thir fixt Station, all in bright array  The Cherubim descended; on the ground  Gliding meteorous, as Ev'ning Mist  Ris'n from a River o're the marish glides,  And gathers ground fast at the Labourers heel                       630  Homeward returning. High in Front advanc't,  The brandisht Sword of God before them blaz'd  Fierce as a Comet; which with torrid heat,  And vapour as the Libyan Air adust,  Began to parch that temperate Clime; whereat  In either hand the hastning Angel caught  Our lingring Parents, and to th' Eastern Gate  Let them direct, and down the Cliff as fast  To the subjected Plaine; then disappeer'd.  They looking back, all th' Eastern side beheld                      640  Of Paradise, so late thir happie seat,  Wav'd over by that flaming Brand, the Gate  With dreadful Faces throng'd and fierie Armes:  Som natural tears they drop'd, but wip'd them soon;
458s

FULL-SIZE--Medium-Size

The World was all before them, where to choose  Thir place of rest, and Providence thir guide:  They hand in hand with wandring steps and slow,  Through Eden took thir solitarie way.  Notes:  Argument:  The Angel.... seed] Thence from the Flood relates,  and by degrees explains who that seed 1667.  1-5 These five lines were added in the Second Edition (1674) when  the original tenth book was divided into an eleventh and twelfth.  The End.

Transcriber's Note: Title page of first edition of ParadiseRegained follows:

PARADISE                           REGAIND.                              A                             POEM.                          In IV BOOKS                       To which is added                       SAMSON AGONISTES  ——————————————————————————————                          The Author                          JOHN MILTON  ——————————————————————————————  ——————————————————————————————                            LONDON.             Printed by J.M. for John Starkey at the              Mitre in Fleetstreet, near Temple-Bar.                            MDCLXXI





PARADISE REGAIN'D.





The First Book.

I WHO e're while the happy Garden sung,  By one mans disobedience lost, now sing  Recover'd Paradise to all mankind,  By one mans firm obedience fully tri'd  Through all temptation, and the Tempter foil'd  In all his wiles, defeated and repuls't,  And Eden rais'd in the wast Wilderness.  Thou Spirit who ledst this glorious Eremite  Into the Desert, his Victorious Field  Against the Spiritual Foe, and broughtst him thence                  10  By proof the undoubted Son of God, inspire,  As thou art wont, my prompted Song else mute,  And bear through highth or depth of natures bounds  With prosperous wing full summ'd to tell of deeds  Above Heroic, though in secret done,  And unrecorded left through many an Age,  Worthy t' have not remain'd so long unsung.  Now had the great Proclaimer with a voice  More awful then the sound of Trumpet, cri'd  Repentance, and Heavens Kingdom nigh at hand                         20  To all Baptiz'd: to his great Baptism flock'd  With aw the Regions round, and with them came  From Nazareth the Son of Joseph deem'd  To the flood Jordan, came as then obscure,  Unmarkt, unknown; but him the Baptist soon  Descri'd, divinely warn'd, and witness bore  As to his worthier, and would have resign'd  To him his Heavenly Office, nor was long  His witness unconfirm'd: on him baptiz'd  Heaven open'd, and in likeness of a Dove                             30  The Spirit descended, while the Fathers voice  From Heav'n pronounc'd him his beloved Son  That heard the Adversary, who roving still  About the world, at that assembly fam'd  Would not be last, and with the voice divine  Nigh Thunder-struck, th' exalted man, to whom  Such high attest was giv'n, a while survey'd  With wonder, then with envy fraught and rage  Flies to his place, nor rests, but in mid air  To Councel summons all his mighty Peers,                             40  Within thick Clouds and dark ten-fold involv'd,  A gloomy Consistory; and them amidst  With looks agast and sad he thus bespake.  O ancient Powers of Air and this wide world,  For much more willingly I mention Air,  This our old Conquest, then remember Hell  Our hated habitation; well ye know  How many Ages, as the years of men,  This Universe we have possest, and rul'd  In manner at our will th' affairs of Earth,                          50  Since Adam and his facil consort Eve  Lost Paradise deceiv'd by me, though since  With dread attending when that fatal wound  Shall be inflicted by the Seed of Eve  Upon my head, long the decrees of Heav'n  Delay, for longest time to him is short;  And now too soon for us the circling hours  This dreaded time have compast, wherein we  Must bide the stroak of that long threatn'd wound,  At least if so we can, and by the head                               60  Broken be not intended all our power  To be infring'd, our freedom and our being  In this fair Empire won of Earth and Air;  For this ill news I bring, the Womans seed  Destin'd to this, is late of woman born,  His birth to our just fear gave no small cause,  But his growth now to youths full flowr, displaying  All vertue, grace and wisdom to atchieve  Things highest, greatest, multiplies my fear.  Before him a great Prophet, to proclaim                              70  His coming is sent Harbinger, who all  Invites, and in the Consecrated stream  Pretends to wash off sin and fit them so  Purified to receive him pure, or rather  To do him honour as their King; all come,  And he himself among them was baptiz'd,  Not thence to be more pure, but to receive  The testimony of Heaven, that who he is  Thenceforth the Nations may not doubt; I saw  The Prophet do him reverence, on him rising                          80  Out of the water, Heav'n above the Clouds  Unfold her Crystal Dores, thence on his head  A perfect Dove descend, what e're it meant  And out of Heav'n the Sov'raign voice I heard,  This is my Son belov'd, in him am pleas'd.  His Mother then is mortal, but his Sire,  He who obtains the Monarchy of Heav'n,  And what will he not do to advance his Son?  His first-begot we know, and sore have felt,  When his fierce thunder drove us to the deep;                        90  Who this is we must learn, for man he seems  In all his lineaments, though in his face  The glimpses of his Fathers glory shine.  Ye see our danger on the utmost edge  Of hazard, which admits no long debate,  But must with something sudden be oppos'd,  Not force, but well couch't fraud, well woven snares,  E're in the head of Nations he appear  Their King, their Leader, and Supream on Earth.  I, when no other durst, sole undertook                              100  The dismal expedition to find out  And ruine Adam, and the exploit perform'd  Successfully; a calmer voyage now  Will waft me; and the way found prosperous once  Induces best to hope of like success.  He ended, and his words impression left  Of much amazement to th' infernal Crew,  Distracted and surpriz'd with deep dismay  At these sad tidings; but no time was then  For long indulgence to their fears or grief:                        110  Unanimous they all commit the care  And management of this main enterprize  To him their great Dictator, whose attempt  At first against mankind so well had thriv'd  In Adam's overthrow, and led thir march  From Hell's deep-vaulted Den to dwell in light,  Regents and Potentates, and Kings, yea gods  Of many a pleasant Realm and Province wide.  So to the Coast of Jordan he directs  His easie steps; girded with snaky wiles,                           120  Where he might likeliest find this new-declar'd,  This man of men, attested Son of God,  Temptation and all guile on him to try;  So to subvert whom he suspected rais'd  To end his Raign on Earth so long enjoy'd:  But contrary unweeting he fulfill'd  The purpos'd Counsel pre-ordain'd and fixt  Of the most High, who in full frequence bright  Of Angels, thus to Gabriel smiling spake.  Gabriel this day by proof thou shalt behold,                        130  Thou and all Angels conversant on Earth  With man or mens affairs, how I begin  To verifie that solemn message late,  On which I sent thee to the Virgin pure  In Galilee, that she should bear a Son  Great in Renown, and call'd the Son of God;  Then toldst her doubting how these things could be  To her a Virgin, that on her should come  The Holy Ghost, and the power of the highest  O're-shadow her: this man born and now up-grown,                    140  To shew him worthy of his birth divine  And high prediction, henceforth I expose  To Satan; let him tempt and now assay  His utmost subtilty, because he boasts  And vaunts of his great cunning to the throng  Of his Apostasie; he might have learnt  Less over-weening, since he fail'd in Job,  Whose constant perseverance overcame  Whate're his cruel malice could invent.  He now shall know I can produce a man                               150  Of female Seed, far abler to resist  All his sollicitations, and at length  All his vast force, and drive him back to Hell,  Winning by Conquest what the first man lost  By fallacy surpriz'd.  But first I mean  To exercise him in the Wilderness,  There he shall first lay down the rudiments  Of his great warfare, e're I send him forth  To conquer Sin and Death the two grand foes,  By Humiliation and strong Sufferance:                               160  His weakness shall o'recome Satanic strength  And all the world, and mass of sinful flesh;  That all the Angels and Aetherial Powers,  They now, and men hereafter may discern,  From what consummate vertue I have chose  This perfect Man, by merit call'd my Son,  To earn Salvation for the Sons of men.  So spake the Eternal Father, and all Heaven  Admiring stood a space, then into Hymns  Burst forth, and in Celestial measures mov'd,                       170  Circling the Throne and Singing, while the hand  Sung with the voice, and this the argument.  Victory and Triumph to the Son of God  Now entring his great duel, not of arms,  But to vanquish by wisdom hellish wiles.  The Father knows the Son; therefore secure  Ventures his filial Vertue, though untri'd,  Against whate're may tempt, whate're seduce,  Allure, or terrifie, or undermine.  Be frustrate all ye stratagems of Hell,                             180  And devilish machinations come to nought.  So they in Heav'n their Odes and Vigils tun'd:  Mean while the Son of God, who yet some days  Lodg'd in Bethabara where John baptiz'd,  Musing and much revolving in his brest,  How best the mighty work he might begin  Of Saviour to mankind, and which way first  Publish his God-like office now mature,  One day forth walk'd alone, the Spirit leading;  And his deep thoughts, the better to converse                       190  With solitude, till far from track of men,  Thought following thought, and step by step led on,  He entred now the bordering Desert wild,  And with dark shades and rocks environ'd round,  His holy Meditations thus persu'd.  O what a multitude of thoughts at once  Awakn'd in me swarm, while I consider  What from within I feel my self and hear  What from without comes often to my ears,  Ill sorting with my present state compar'd.                         200  When I was yet a child, no childish play  To me was pleasing, all my mind was set  Serious to learn and know, and thence to do  What might be publick good; my self I thought  Born to that end, born to promote all truth,  All righteous things: therefore above my years,  The Law of God I read, and found it sweet,  Made it my whole delight, and in it grew  To such perfection, that e're yet my age  Had measur'd twice six years, at our great Feast                    210  I went into the Temple, there to hear  The Teachers of our Law, and to propose  What might improve my knowledge or their own;  And was admir'd by all, yet this not all  To which my Spirit aspir'd, victorious deeds  Flam'd in my heart, heroic acts, one while  To rescue Israel from the Roman yoke,  Thence to subdue and quell o're all the earth  Brute violence and proud Tyrannick pow'r,  Till truth were freed, and equity restor'd:                        220  Yet held it more humane, more heavenly first  By winning words to conquer willing hearts,  And make perswasion do the work of fear;  At least to try, and teach the erring Soul  Not wilfully mis-doing, but unware  Misled: the stubborn only to subdue.  These growing thoughts my Mother soon perceiving  By words at times cast forth inly rejoyc'd,  And said to me apart, high are thy thoughts  O Son, but nourish them and let them soar                           230  To what highth sacred vertue and true worth  Can raise them, though above example high;  By matchless Deeds express thy matchless Sire.  For know, thou art no Son of mortal man,  Though men esteem thee low of Parentage,  Thy Father is the Eternal King, who rules  All Heaven and Earth, Angels and Sons of men,  A messenger from God fore-told thy birth  Conceiv'd in me a Virgin, he fore-told  Thou shouldst be great and sit on David's Throne.                   240  And of thy Kingdom there should be no end.  At thy Nativity a glorious Quire  Of Angels in the fields of Bethlehem sung  To Shepherds watching at their folds by night,  And told them the Messiah now was born,  Where they might see him, and to thee they came;  Directed to the Manger where thou lais't,  For in the Inn was left no better room:  A Star, not seen before in Heaven appearing  Guided the Wise Men thither from the East,                          250  To honour thee with Incense, Myrrh, and Gold,  By whose bright course led on they found the place,  Affirming it thy Star new grav'n in Heaven,  By which they knew thee King of Israel born.  Just Simeon and Prophetic Anna, warn'd  By Vision, found thee in the Temple, and spake  Before the Altar and the vested Priest,  Like things of thee to all that present stood.  This having heard, strait I again revolv'd  The Law and Prophets, searching what was writ                       260  Concerning the Messiah, to our Scribes  Known partly, and soon found of whom they spake  I am; this chiefly, that my way must lie  Through many a hard assay even to the death,  E're I the promis'd Kingdom can attain,  Or work redemption for mankind, whose sins  Full weight must be transferr'd upon my head.  Yet neither thus disheartn'd or dismay'd,  The time prefixt I waited, when behold  The Baptist, (of whose birth I oft had heard,                       270  Not knew by sight) now come, who was to come  Before Messiah and his way prepare.  I as all others to his Baptism came,  Which I believ'd was from above; but he  Strait knew me, and with loudest voice proclaim'd  Me him (for it was shew'n him so from Heaven)  Me him whose Harbinger he was; and first  Refus'd on me his Baptism to confer,  As much his greater, and was hardly won;  But as I rose out of the laving stream,                             280  Heaven open'd her eternal doors, from whence  The Spirit descended on me like a Dove,  And last the sum of all, my Father's voice,  Audibly heard from Heav'n, pronounc'd me his,  Me his beloved Son, in whom alone  He was well pleas'd; by which I knew the time  Now full, that I no more should live obscure,  But openly begin, as best becomes  The Authority which I deriv'd from Heaven.  And now by some strong motion I am led                              290  Into this wilderness, to what intent  I learn not yet, perhaps I need not know;  For what concerns my knowledge God reveals.  So spake our Morning Star then in his rise,  And looking round on every side beheld  A pathless Desert, dusk with horrid shades;  The way he came not having mark'd, return  Was difficult, by humane steps untrod;  And he still on was led, but with such thoughts  Accompanied of things past and to come                              300  Lodg'd in his brest, as well might recommend  Such Solitude before choicest Society.  Full forty days he pass'd, whether on hill  Sometimes, anon in shady vale, each night  Under the covert of some ancient Oak,  Or Cedar, to defend him from the dew,  Or harbour'd in one Cave, is not reveal'd;  Nor tasted humane food, nor hunger felt  Till those days ended, hunger'd then at last  Among wild Beasts: they at his sight grew mild,                    310  Nor sleeping him nor waking harm'd, his walk  The fiery Serpent fled, and noxious Worm,  The Lion and fierce Tiger glar'd aloof.  But now an aged man in Rural weeds,  Following, as seem'd, the quest of some stray Ewe,  Or wither'd sticks to gather; which might serve  Against a Winters day when winds blow keen,  To warm him wet return'd from field at Eve,  He saw approach, who first with curious eye  Perus'd him, then with words thus utt'red spake.                    320  Sir, what ill chance hath brought thee to this place  So far from path or road of men, who pass  In Troop or Caravan, for single  none  Durst ever, who return'd, and dropt not here  His Carcass,  pin'd with hunger and with droughth?  I ask the rather and the more admire,  For that to me thou seem'st the man, whom late  Our new baptizing Prophet at the Ford  Of Jordan honour'd so, and call'd thee Son  Of God: I saw and heard, for we sometimes                           330  Who dwell this wild, constrain'd by want, come forth  To Town or Village nigh (nighest is far)  Where ought we hear, and curious are to hear,  What happ'ns new; Fame also finds us out.  To whom the Son of God.  Who brought me hither  Will bring me hence, no other Guide I seek,  By Miracle he may, reply'd the Swain,  What other way I see not, for we here  Live on tough roots and stubs, to thirst inur'd  More then the Camel, and to drink go far,                           340  Men to much misery and hardship born;  But if thou be the Son of God, Command  That out of these hard stones be made thee bread;  So shalt thou save thy self and us relieve  With Food, whereof we wretched seldom taste.  He ended, and the Son of God reply'd.  Think'st thou such force in Bread? is it not written  (For I discern thee other then thou seem'st)  Man lives not by Bread only, but each Word  Proceeding from the mouth of God; who fed                           350  Our Fathers here with Manna; in the Mount  Moses was forty days, nor eat nor drank,  And forty days Eliah without food  Wandred this barren waste, the same I now:  Why dost thou then suggest to me distrust,  Knowing who I am, as I know who thou art?  Whom thus answer'd th' Arch Fiend now undisguis'd.  'Tis true, I am that Spirit unfortunate,  Who leagu'd with millions more in rash revolt  Kept not my happy Station, but was driv'n                           360  With them from bliss to the bottomless deep,  Vet to that hideous place not so confin'd  By rigour unconniving, but that oft  Leaving my dolorous Prison I enjoy  Large liberty to round this Globe of Earth,  Or range in th' Air, nor from the Heav'n of Heav'ns  Hath he excluded my resort sometimes.  I came among the Sons of God, when he  Gave up into my hands Uzzean Job  To prove him, and illustrate his high worth;                        370  And when to all his Angels he propos'd  To draw the proud King Ahab into fraud  That he might fall in Ramoth, they demurring,  I undertook that office, and the tongues  Of all his flattering Prophets glibb'd with lyes  To his destruction, as I had in charge.  For what he bids I do; though I have lost  Much lustre of my native brightness, lost  To be belov'd of God, I have not lost  To love, at least contemplate and admire                            380  What I see excellent in good, or fair,  Or vertuous, I should so have lost all sense.  What can be then less in me then desire  To see thee and approach thee, whom I know  Declar'd the Son of God, to hear attent  Thy wisdom, and behold thy God-like deeds?  Men generally think me much a foe  To all mankind: why should I? they to me  Never did wrong or violence, by them  I lost not what I lost, rather by them                              390  I gain'd what I have gain'd, and with them dwell  Copartner in these Regions of the World,  If not disposer; lend them oft my aid,  Oft my advice by presages and signs,  And answers, oracles, portents and dreams,  Whereby they may direct their future life.  Envy they say excites me, thus to gain  Companions of my misery and wo.  At first it may be; but long since with wo  Nearer acquainted, now I feel by proof,                             400  That fellowship in pain divides not smart,  Nor lightens aught each mans peculiar load.  Small consolation then, were Man adjoyn'd:  This wounds me most (what can it less) that Man,  Man fall'n shall be restor'd, I never more.  To whom our Saviour sternly thus reply'd.  Deservedly thou griev'st, compos'd of lyes  From the beginning, and in lies wilt end;  Who boast'st release from Hell, and leave to come  Into the Heav'n of Heavens; thou com'st indeed,                     410  As a poor miserable captive thrall,  Comes to the place where he before had sat  Among the Prime in Splendour, now depos'd,  Ejected, emptyed, gaz'd, unpityed, shun'd,  A spectacle of ruin or of scorn  To all the Host of Heaven; the happy place  Imparts to thee no happiness, no joy,  Rather inflames thy torment, representing  Lost bliss, to thee no more communicable,  So never more in Hell then when in Heaven.                          420  But thou art serviceable to Heaven's King.  Wilt thou impute to obedience what thy fear  Extorts, or pleasure to do ill excites?  What but thy malice mov'd thee to misdeem  Of righteous Job, then cruelly to afflict him  With all inflictions, but his patience won?  The other service was thy chosen task,  To be a lyer in four hundred mouths;  For lying is thy sustenance, thy food.  Yet thou pretend'st to truth; all Oracles                           430  By thee are giv'n, and what confest more true  Among the Nations? that hath been thy craft,  By mixing somewhat true to vent more lyes.  But what have been thy answers, what but dark  Ambiguous and with double sense deluding,  Which they who ask'd have seldom understood,  And not well understood as good not known?  Who ever by consulting at thy shrine  Return'd the wiser, or the more instruct  To flye or follow what concern'd him most,                          440  And run not sooner to his fatal snare?  For God hath justly giv'n the Nations up  To thy Delusions; justly, since they fell  Idolatrous, but when his purpose is  Among them to declare his Providence  To thee not known, whence hast thou then thy truth,  But from him or his Angels President  In every Province, who themselves disdaining  To approach thy Temples, give thee in command  What to the smallest tittle thou shalt say                          450  To thy Adorers; thou with trembling fear,  Or like a Fawning Parasite obey'st;  Then to thy self ascrib'st the truth fore-told.  But this thy glory shall be soon retrench'd;  No more shalt thou by oracling abuse  The Gentiles; henceforth Oracles are ceast,  And thou no more with Pomp and Sacrifice  Shalt be enquir'd at Delphos or elsewhere,  At least in vain, for they shall find thee mute.  God hath now sent his living Oracle                                 460  Into the World, to teach his final will,  And sends his Spirit of Truth henceforth to dwell  In pious Hearts, an inward Oracle  To all truth requisite for men to know.  So spake our Saviour; but the subtle Fiend,  Though inly stung with anger and disdain,  Dissembl'd, and this answer smooth return'd.  Sharply thou hast insisted on rebuke,  And urg'd me hard with doings, which not will  But misery hath rested from me; where                               470  Easily canst thou find one miserable,  And not inforc'd oft-times to part from truth;  If it may stand him more in stead to lye,  Say and unsay, feign, flatter, or abjure?  But thou art plac't above me, thou art Lord;  From thee I can and must submiss endure  Check or reproof, and glad to scape so quit.  Hard are the ways of truth, and rough to walk,  Smooth on the tongue discourst, pleasing to th' ear,  And tuneable as Silvan Pipe or Song;                               480  What wonder then if I delight to hear  Her dictates from thy mouth? most men admire  Vertue, who follow not her lore: permit me  To hear thee when I come (since no man comes)  And talk at least, though I despair to attain.  Thy Father, who is holy, wise and pure,  Suffers the Hypocrite or Atheous Priest  To tread his Sacred Courts, and minister  About his Altar, handling holy things,  Praying or vowing, and vouchsaf'd his voice                         490  To Balaam reprobate, a Prophet yet  Inspir'd; disdain not such access to me.  To whom our Saviour with unalter'd brow  Thy coming hither, though I know thy scope,  I bid not or forbid; do as thou find'st  Permission from above; thou canst not more.  He added not; and Satan bowing low  His gray dissimulation, disappear'd  Into thin Air diffus'd: for now began  Night with her sullen wing to double-shade                          500  The Desert Fowls in thir clay nests were couch't;  And now wild Beasts came forth the woods to roam.  The End of the First Book.





The Second Book.

MEAN while the new-baptiz'd, who yet remain'd  At Jordan with the Baptist, and had seen  Him whom they heard so late expresly call'd  Jesus Messiah Son of God declar'd,  And on that high Authority had believ'd,  And with him talkt, and with him lodg'd, I mean  Andrew and Simon, famous after known  With others though in Holy Writ not nam'd,  Now missing him thir joy so lately found,  So lately found, and so abruptly gone,                               10  Began to doubt, and doubted many days,  And as the days increas'd, increas'd thir doubt:  Sometimes they thought he might be only shewn,  And for a time caught up to God, as once  Moses was in the Mount, and missing long;  And the great Thisbite who on fiery wheels  Rode up to Heaven, yet once again to come.  Therefore as those young Prophets then with care  Sought lost Eliah, so in each place these  Nigh to Bethabara; in Jerico                                         20  The City of Palms, Aenon, and Salem Old,  Machaerus and each Town or City wall'd  On this side the broad lake Genezaret  Or in Perea, but return'd in vain.  Then on the bank of Jordan, by a Creek:  Where winds with Reeds, and Osiers whisp'ring play  Plain Fishermen, no greater men them call,  Close in a Cottage low together got  Thir unexpected loss and plaints out breath'd.  Alas from what high hope to what relapse                             30  Unlook'd for are we fall'n, our eyes beheld  Messiah certainly now come, so long  Expected of our Fathers; we have heard  His words, his wisdom full of grace and truth,  Now, now, for sure, deliverance is at hand,  The Kingdom shall to Israel be restor'd:  Thus we rejoyc'd, but soon our joy is turn'd  Into perplexity and new amaze:  For whither is he gone, what accident  Hath rapt him from us? will he now retire                            40  After appearance, and again prolong  Our expectation?  God of Israel,  Send thy Messiah forth, the time is come;  Behold the Kings of the Earth how they oppress  Thy chosen, to what highth thir pow'r unjust  They have exalted, and behind them cast  All fear of thee, arise and vindicate  Thy Glory, free thy people from thir yoke,  But let us wait; thus far he hath perform'd,  Sent his Anointed, and to us reveal'd him,                           50  By his great Prophet, pointed at and shown,  In publick, and  with him we have convers'd;  Let us be glad of this, and all our fears  Lay on his Providence; he will not fail  Nor will withdraw him now, nor will recall,  Mock us with his blest sight, then snatch him hence,  Soon we shall see our hope, our joy return.  Thus they out of their plaints new hope resume  To find whom at the first they found unsought:  But to his Mother Mary, when she saw                                 60  Others return'd from Baptism, not her Son,  Nor left at Jordan, tydings of him none;  Within her brest, though calm; her brest though pure,  Motherly cares and fears got head, and rais'd  Some troubl'd thoughts, which she in sighs thus clad.  O what avails me now that honour high  To have conceiv'd of God, or that salute  Hale highly favour'd, among women blest;  While I to sorrows am no less advanc't,  And fears as eminent, above the lot                                  70  Of other women, by the birth I bore,  In such a season born when scarce a Shed  Could be obtain'd to shelter him or me  From the bleak air; a Stable was our warmth,  A Manger his, yet soon enforc't to flye  Thence into Egypt, till the Murd'rous King  Were dead, who sought his life, and missing fill'd  With Infant blood the streets of Bethlehem;  From Egypt home return'd, in Nazareth  Hath been our dwelling many years, his life                          80  Private, unactive, calm, contemplative,  Little suspicious to any King; but now  Full grown to Man, acknowledg'd, as I hear,  By John the Baptist, and in publick shown,  Son own'd from Heaven by his Father's voice;  I  look't for some great change; to Honour? no,  But trouble, as old Simeon plain foretold,  That to the fall and rising he should be  Of  Many in Israel, and to a sign  Spoken against, that through my very Soul                            90  A sword shall pierce, this is my favour'd lot,  My Exaltation to Afflictions high;  Afflicted I may be, it seems, and blest;  I will not argue that, nor will repine.  But where delays he now? some great intent  Conceals him: when twelve years he scarce had seen,  I lost him, but so found, as well I saw  He could not lose himself; but went about  His Father's business; what he meant I mus'd,  Since understand; much more his absence now                         100  Thus long to some great purpose he obscures.  But I to wait with patience am inur'd;  My heart hath been a store-house long of things  And sayings laid up, portending strange events.  Thus Mary pondering oft, and oft to mind  Recalling what remarkably had pass'd  Since first her Salutation heard, with thoughts  Meekly compos'd awaited the fulfilling:  The while her Son tracing the Desert wild,  Sole but with holiest Meditations fed,                              110  Into himself descended, and at once  All his great work to come before him set;  How to begin, how to accomplish best  His end of being on Earth, and mission high:  For Satan with slye preface to return  Had left him vacant, and with speed was gon  Up to the middle Region of thick Air,  Where all his Potentates in Council sate;  There without sign of boast, or sign of joy,  Sollicitous and blank he thus began.                                120  Princes, Heavens antient Sons, Aethereal Thrones,  Demonian Spirits now, from the Element  Each of his reign allotted, rightlier call'd,  Powers of Fire, Air, Water, and Earth beneath,  So may we hold our place and these mild seats  Without new trouble; such an Enemy  Is ris'n to invade us, who no less  Threat'ns then our expulsion down to Hell;  I, as I undertook, and with the vote  Consenting in full frequence was impowr'd,                          130  Have found him, view'd him, tasted him, but find  Far other labour to be undergon  Then when I dealt with Adam first of Men,  Though Adam by his Wives allurement fell,  However to this Man inferior far,  If he be Man by Mothers side at least,  With more then humane gifts from Heav'n adorn'd,  Perfections absolute, Graces divine,  And amplitude of mind to greatest Deeds.  Therefore I am return'd, lest confidence                            140  Of my success with Eve in Paradise  Deceive ye to perswasion over-sure  Of like succeeding here; I summon all  Rather to be in readiness, with hand  Or counsel to assist; lest I who erst  Thought none my equal, now be over-match'd.  So spake the old Serpent doubting, and from all  With clamour was assur'd thir utmost aid  At his command; when from amidst them rose  Belial the dissolutest Spirit that fell                             150  The sensuallest, and after Asmodai  The fleshliest Incubus, and thus advis'd.  Set women in his eye and in his walk,  Among daughters of men the fairest found;  Many are in each Region passing fair  As the noon Skie; more like to Goddesses  Then Mortal Creatures, graceful and discreet,  Expert in amorous Arts, enchanting tongues  Perswasive, Virgin majesty with mild  And sweet allay'd, yet terrible to approach,                        160  Skill'd to retire, and in retiring draw  Hearts after them tangl'd in Amorous Nets.  Such object hath the power to soft'n and tame  Severest temper, smooth the rugged'st brow,  Enerve, and with voluptuous hope dissolve,  Draw out with credulous desire, and lead  At will the manliest, resolutest brest,  As the Magnetic hardest Iron draws.  Women, when nothing else, beguil'd the heart  Of wisest Solomon, and made him build,                              170  And made him bow to the Gods of his Wives.  To whom quick answer Satan thus return'd  Belial in much uneven scale thou weigh'st  All others by thy self; because of old  Thou thy self doat'st on womankind, admiring  Thir shape, thir colour, and attractive grace,  None are, thou think'st, but taken with such toys.  Before the Flood thou with thy lusty Crew,  False titl'd Sons of God, roaming the Earth  Cast wanton eyes on the daughters of men,                           180  And coupl'd with them, and begot a race.  Have we not seen, or by relation heard,  In Courts and Regal Chambers how thou lurk'st,  In Wood or Grove by mossie Fountain side,  In Valley or Green Meadow to way-lay  Some beauty rare, Calisto, Clymene,  Daphne, or Semele, Antiopa,  Or Amymone, Syrinx, many more  Too long, then lay'st thy scapes on names ador'd,  Apollo, Neptune, Jupiter, or Pan,                                   190  Satyr, or Fawn, or Silvan? But these haunts  Delight not all; among the Sons of Men,  How many have with a smile made small account  Of beauty and her lures, easily scorn'd  All her assaults, on worthier things intent?  Remember that Pellean Conquerour,  A youth, how all the Beauties of the East  He slightly view'd, and slightly over-pass'd;  How hee sirnam'd of Africa dismiss'd  In his prime youth the fair Iberian maid.                           200  For Solomon he liv'd at ease, and full  Of honour, wealth, high fare, aim'd not beyond  Higher design then to enjoy his State;  Thence to the bait of Women lay expos'd;  But he whom we attempt is wiser far  Then Solomon, of more exalted mind,  Made and set wholly on the accomplishment  Of greatest things; what woman will you find,  Though of this Age the wonder and the fame,  On whom his leisure will vouchsafe an eye                           210  Of fond desire? or should she confident,  As sitting Queen ador'd on Beauties Throne,  Descend with all her winning charms begirt  To enamour, as the Zone of Venus once  Wrought that effect on Jove, so Fables tell;  How would one look from his Majestick brow  Seated as on the top of Vertues hill,  Discount'nance her despis'd, and put to rout  All her array; her female pride deject,  Or turn to reverent awe? for Beauty stands                          220  In the admiration only of weak minds  Led captive; cease to admire, and all her Plumes  Fall flat and shrink into a trivial toy,  At every sudden slighting quite abasht:  Therefore with manlier objects we must try  His constancy, with such as have more shew  Of worth, of honour, glory, and popular praise;  Rocks whereon greatest men have oftest wreck'd;  Or that which only seems to satisfie  Lawful desires of Nature, not beyond;                               230  And now I know he hungers where no food  Is to be found, in the wide Wilderness;  The rest commit to me, I shall let pass  No advantage, and his strength as oft assay.  He ceas'd, and heard thir grant in loud acclaim;  Then forthwith to him takes a chosen band  Of Spirits likest to himself in guile  To be at hand, and at his beck appear,  If cause were to unfold some active Scene  Of various persons each to know his part;                           240  Then to the Desert takes with these his flight;  Where still from shade to shade the Son of God  After forty days fasting had remain'd,  Now hungring first, and to himself thus said.  Where will this end? four times ten days I have pass'd  Wandring this woody maze, and humane food  Nor tasted, nor had appetite: that Fast  To Vertue I impute not, or count part  Of what I suffer here; if Nature need not,  Or God support Nature without repast                                250  Though needing, what praise is it to endure?  But now I feel I hunger, which declares,  Nature hath need of what she asks; yet God  Can satisfie that need some other way,  Though hunger still remain: so it remain  Without this bodies wasting, I content me,  And from the sting of Famine fear no harm,  Nor mind it, fed with better thoughts that feed  Mee hungring more to do my Fathers will.  It was the hour of night, when thus the Son                         260  Commun'd in silent walk, then laid him down  Under the hospitable covert nigh  Of Trees thick interwoven; there he slept,  And dream'd, as appetite is wont to dream,  Of meats and drinks, Natures refreshment sweet;  Him thought, he by the Brook of Cherith stood  And saw the Ravens with thir horny beaks  Food to Elijah bringing Even and Morn,  Though ravenous, taught to abstain from what they brought:  He saw the Prophet also how he fled                                 270  Into the Desert, and how there he slept  Under a Juniper; then how awakt,  He found his Supper on the coals prepar'd,  And by the Angel was bid rise and eat,  And eat the second time after repose,  The strength whereof suffic'd him forty days;  Sometimes that with Elijah he partook,  Or as a guest with Daniel at his pulse.  Thus wore out night, and now the Herald Lark  Left his ground-nest, high towring to descry                        280  The morns approach, and greet her with his Song:  As lightly from his grassy Couch up rose  Our Saviour, and found all was but a dream,  Fasting he went to sleep, and fasting wak'd.  Up to a hill anon his steps he rear'd,  From whose high top to ken the prospect round,  If Cottage were in view, Sheep-cote or Herd;  But Cottage, Herd or Sheep-cote none he saw,  Only in a bottom saw a pleasant Grove,  With chaunt of tuneful Birds resounding loud;                       290  Thither he bent his way, determin'd there  To rest at noon, and entr'd soon the shade  High rooft and walks beneath, and alleys brown  That open'd in the midst a woody Scene,  Natures own work it seem'd (Nature taught Art)  And to a Superstitious eye the haunt  Of Wood-Gods and Wood-Nymphs; he view'd it round,  When suddenly a man before him stood,  Not rustic as before, but seemlier clad,  As one in City, or Court, or Palace bred,                           300  And with fair speech these words to him address'd.  With granted leave officious I return,  But much more wonder that the Son of God  In this wild solitude so long should bide  Of all things destitute, and well I know,  Not without hunger.  Others of some note,  As story tells, have trod this Wilderness;  The Fugitive Bond-woman with her Son  Out cast Nebaioth, yet found he relief  By a providing Angel; all the race                                  310  Of Israel here had famish'd, had not God  Rain'd from Heaven Manna, and that Prophet bold  Native of Thebes wandring here was fed  Twice by a voice inviting him to eat.  Of thee these forty days none hath regard,  Forty and more deserted here indeed.  To whom thus Jesus; what conclud'st thou hence?  They all had need, I as thou seest have none.  How hast thou hunger then?  Satan reply'd,  Tell me if Food were now before thee set,                           320  Would'st thou not eat?  Thereafter as I like  The giver, answer'd Jesus. Why should that  Cause thy refusal, said the subtle Fiend,  Hast thou not right to all Created things,  Owe not all Creatures by just right to thee  Duty and Service, nor to stay till bid,  But tender all their power? nor mention I  Meats by the Law unclean, or offer'd first  To Idols, those young Daniel could refuse;  Nor proffer'd by an Enemy, though who                               330  Would scruple that, with want opprest? behold  Nature asham'd, or better to express,  Troubl'd that thou should'st hunger, hath purvey'd  From all the Elements her choicest store  To treat thee as beseems, and as her Lord  With honour, only deign to sit and eat.  He spake no dream, for as his words had end,  Our Saviour lifting up his eyes beheld  In ample space under the broadest shade  A Table richly spred, in regal mode,                                340  With dishes pil'd, and meats of noblest sort  And savour, Beasts of chase, or Fowl of game,  In pastry built, or from the spit, or boyl'd,  Gris-amber-steam'd; all Fish from Sea or Shore,  Freshet, or purling Brook, of shell or fin,  And exquisitest name, for which was drain'd  Pontus and Lucrine Bay, and Afric Coast.  Alas how simple, to these Cates compar'd,  Was that crude Apple that diverted Eve!  And at a stately side-board by the wine                             350  That fragrant smell diffus'd, in order stood  Tall stripling youths rich clad, of fairer hew  Then Ganymed or Hylas, distant more  Under the Trees now trip'd, now solemn stood  Nymphs of Diana's train, and Naiades  With fruits and flowers from Amalthea's horn,  And Ladies of th' Hesperides, that seem'd  Fairer then feign'd of old, or fabl'd since  Of Fairy Damsels met in Forest wide  By Knights of Logres, or of Lyones,                                 360  Lancelot or Pelleas, or Pellenore,  And all the while Harmonious Airs were heard  Of chiming strings, or charming pipes and winds  Of gentlest gale Arabian odors fann'd  From their soft wings, and flora's earliest smells.  Such was the Splendour, and the Tempter now  His invitation earnestly renew'd.  What doubts the Son of God to sit and eat?  These are not Fruits forbidden, no interdict  Defends the touching of these viands pure,                          370  Thir taste no knowledge works, at least of evil,  But life preserves, destroys life's enemy,  Hunger, with sweet restorative delight.  All these are Spirits of Air, and Woods, and Springs,  Thy gentle Ministers, who come to pay  Thee homage, and acknowledge thee thir Lord:  What doubt'st thou Son of God? sit down and eat.  To whom thus Jesus temperately reply'd:  Said'st thou not that to all things I had right?  And who withholds my pow'r that right to use?                       380  Shall I receive by gift what of my own,  When and where likes me best, I can command?  I can at will, doubt not, as soon as thou,  Command a Table in this Wilderness,  And call swift flights of Angels ministrant  Array'd in Glory on my cup to attend:  Why shouldst thou then obtrude this diligence,  In vain, where no acceptance it can find,  And with my hunger what hast thou to do?  Thy pompous Delicacies I contemn,                                   390  And count thy specious gifts no gifts but guiles.  To whom thus answer'd Satan malecontent:  That I have also power to give thou seest,  If of that pow'r I bring thee voluntary  What I might have bestow'd on whom I pleas'd.  And rather opportunely in this place  Chose to impart to thy apparent need,  Why shouldst thou not accept it? but I see  What I can do or offer is suspect;  Of these things others quickly will dispose                         400  Whose pains have earn'd the far fet spoil.  With that  Both Table and Provision vanish'd quite  With sound of Harpies wings, and Talons heard;  Only the importune Tempter still remain'd,  And with these words his temptation pursu'd.  By hunger, that each other Creature tames,  Thou art not to be harm'd, therefore not mov'd;  Thy temperance invincible besides,  For no allurement yields to appetite,  And all thy heart is set on high designs,                           410  High actions: but wherewith to be atchiev'd?  Great acts require great means of enterprise,  Thou art unknown, unfriended, low of birth,  A Carpenter thy Father known, thy self  Bred up in poverty and streights at home;  Lost in a Desert here and hunger-bit:  Which way or from what hope dost thou aspire  To greatness? whence Authority deriv'st,  What Followers, what Retinue canst thou gain,  Or at thy heels the dizzy Multitude,                                420  Longer then thou canst feed them on thy cost?  Money brings Honour, Friends, Conquest, and Realms;  What rais'd Antipater the Edomite,  And his Son Herod plac'd on Juda's Throne;  (Thy throne) but gold that got him puissant friends?  Therefore, if at great things thou wouldst arrive,  Get Riches first, get Wealth, and Treasure heap,  Not difficult, if thou hearken to me,  Riches are mine, Fortune is in my hand;  They whom I favour thrive in wealth amain,                          430  While Virtue, Valour, Wisdom sit in want.  To whom thus Jesus patiently reply'd;  Yet Wealth without these three is impotent,  To gain dominion or to keep it gain'd.  Witness those antient Empires of the Earth,  In highth of all thir flowing wealth dissolv'd:  But men endu'd with these have oft attain'd  In lowest poverty to highest deeds;  Gideon and Jephtha, and the Shepherd lad,  Whose off-spring on the Throne of Juda sat                          440  So many Ages, and shall yet regain  That seat, and reign in Israel without end.  Among the Heathen, (for throughout the World  To me is not unknown what hath been done  Worthy of Memorial) canst thou not remember  Quintius, Fabricius, Curius, Regulus?  For I esteem those names of men so poor  Who could do mighty things, and could contemn  Riches though offer'd from the hand of Kings.  And what in me seems wanting, but that I                            450  May also in this poverty as soon  Accomplish what they did, perhaps and more?  Extol not Riches then, the toyl of Fools  The wise mans cumbrance if not snare, more apt  To slacken Virtue, and abate her edge,  Then prompt her to do aught may merit praise.  What if with like aversion I reject  Riches and Realms; yet not for that a Crown,  Golden in shew, is but a wreath of thorns,  Brings dangers, troubles, cares, and sleepless nights               460  To him who wears the Regal Diadem,  When on his shoulders each mans burden lies;  For therein stands the office of a King,  His Honour, Vertue, Merit and chief Praise,  That for the Publick all this weight he bears.  Yet he who reigns within himself, and rules  Passions, Desires, and Fears, is more a King;  Which every wise and vertuous man attains:  And who attains not, ill aspires to rule  Cities of men, or head-strong Multitudes,                           470  Subject himself to Anarchy within,  Or lawless passions in him which he serves.  But to guide Nations in the way of truth  By saving Doctrine, and from errour lead  To know, and knowing worship God aright,  Is yet more Kingly, this attracts the Soul,  Governs the inner man, the nobler part,  That other o're the body only reigns,  And oft by force, which to a generous mind  So reigning can be no sincere delight.                              480  Besides to give a Kingdom hath been thought  Greater and nobler done, and to lay down  Far more magnanimous, then to assume.  Riches are needless then, both for themselves,  And for thy reason why they should be sought,  To gain a Scepter, oftest better miss't.  Note: 309 he] here 1695.  The End of the Second Book.





The Third Book.

So spake the Son of God, and Satan stood  A while as mute confounded what to say,  What to reply, confuted and convinc't  Of his weak arguing, and fallacious drift;  At length collecting all his Serpent wiles,  With soothing words renew'd, him thus accosts.  I see thou know'st what is of use to know,  What best to say canst say, to do canst do;  Thy actions to thy words accord, thy words  To thy large heart give utterance due, thy heart                     10  Conteins of good, wise, just, the perfect shape.  Should Kings and Nations from thy mouth consult,  Thy Counsel would be as the Oracle  Urim and Thummin, those oraculous gems  On Aaron's breast: or tongue of Seers old  Infallible; or wert thou sought to deeds  That might require th' array of war, thy skill  Of conduct would be such, that all the world  Could not sustain thy Prowess, or subsist  In battel, though against thy few in arms.                           20  These God-like Vertues wherefore dost thou hide?  Affecting private life, or more obscure  In savage Wilderness, wherefore deprive  All Earth her wonder at thy acts, thy self  The fame and glory, glory the reward  That sole excites to high attempts the flame  Of most erected Spirits, most temper'd pure  Aetherial, who all pleasures else despise,  All treasures and all gain esteem as dross,  And dignities and powers all but the highest?                        30  Thy years are ripe, and over-ripe, the Son  Of Macedonian Philip had e're these  Won Asia and the Throne of Cyrus held  At his dispose, young Scipio had brought down  The Carthaginian pride, young Pompey quell'd  The Pontic King and in triumph had rode.  Yet years, and to ripe years judgment mature,  Quench not the thirst of glory, but augment.  Great Julius, whom now all the world admires,  The more he grew in years, the more inflam'd                         40  With glory, wept that he had liv'd so long  Inglorious: but thou yet art not too late.  To whom our Saviour calmly thus reply'd.  Thou neither dost perswade me to seek wealth  For Empires sake, nor Empire to affect  For glories sake by all thy argument.  For what is glory but the blaze of fame,  The peoples praise, if always praise unmixt?  And what the people but a herd confus'd,  A miscellaneous rabble, who extol                                    50  Things vulgar, & well weigh'd, scarce worth the praise,  They praise and they admire they know not what;  And know not whom, but as one leads the other;  And what delight to be by such extoll'd,  To live upon thir tongues and be thir talk,  Of whom to be disprais'd were no small praise?  His lot who dares be singularly good.  Th' intelligent among them and the wise  Are few; and glory scarce of few is rais'd.  This is true glory and renown, when God                              60  Looking on the Earth, with approbation marks  The just man, and divulges him through Heaven  To all his Angels, who with true applause  Recount his praises; thus he did to Job,  When to extend his fame through Heaven & Earth,  As thou to thy reproach mayst well remember,  He ask'd thee, hast thou seen my servant Job?  Famous he was in Heaven, on Earth less known;  Where glory is false glory, attributed  To things not glorious, men not worthy of fame.                      70  They err who count it glorious to subdue  By Conquest far and wide, to over-run  Large Countries, and in field great Battels win,  Great Cities by assault: what do these Worthies,  But rob and spoil, burn, slaughter, and enslave  Peaceable Nations, neighbouring, or remote,  Made Captive, yet deserving freedom more  Then those thir Conquerours, who leave behind  Nothing but ruin wheresoe're they rove,  And all the flourishing works of peace destroy,                      80  Then swell with pride, and must be titl'd Gods,  Great Benefactors of mankind, Deliverers,  Worship't with Temple, Priest and Sacrifice;  One is the Son of Jove, of Mars the other,  Till Conquerour Death discover them scarce men,  Rowling in brutish vices, and deform'd,  Violent or shameful death thir due reward.  But if there be in glory aught of good,  It may by means far different be attain'd  Without ambition, war, or violence;                                  90  By deeds of peace, by wisdom eminent,  By patience, temperance; I mention still  Him whom thy wrongs with Saintly patience born,  Made famous in a Land and times obscure;  Who names not now with honour patient Job?  Poor Socrates (who next more memorable?)  By what he taught and suffer'd for so doing,  For truths sake suffering death unjust, lives now  Equal in fame to proudest Conquerours.  Yet if for fame and glory aught be done,                            100  Aught suffer'd; if young African for fame  His wasted Country freed from Punic rage,  The deed becomes unprais'd, the man at least,  And loses, though but verbal, his reward.  Shall I seek glory then, as vain men seek  Oft not deserv'd?  I seek not mine, but his  Who sent me, and thereby witness whence I am.  To whom the Tempter murmuring thus reply'd.  Think not so slight of glory; therein least,  Resembling thy great Father: he seeks glory,                        110  And for his glory all things made, all things  Orders and governs, nor content in Heaven  By all his Angels glorifi'd, requires  Glory from men, from all men good or bad,  Wise or unwise, no difference, no exemption;  Above all Sacrifice, or hallow'd gift  Glory he requires, and glory he receives  Promiscuous from all Nations, Jew, or Greek,  Or Barbarous, nor exception hath declar'd;  From us his foes pronounc't glory he exacts.                        120  To whom our Saviour fervently reply'd.  And reason; since his word all things produc'd,  Though chiefly not for glory as prime end,  But to shew forth his goodness, and impart  His good communicable to every soul  Freely; of whom what could he less expect  Then glory and benediction, that is thanks,  The slightest, easiest, readiest recompence  From them who could return him nothing else,  And not returning that would likeliest render                       130  Contempt instead, dishonour, obloquy?  Hard recompence, unsutable return  For so much good, so much beneficence.  But why should man seek glory? who of his own  Hath nothing, and to whom nothing belongs  But condemnation, ignominy, and shame?  Who for so many benefits receiv'd  Turn'd recreant to God, ingrate and false,  And so of all true good himself despoil'd,  Yet, sacrilegious, to himself would take                            140  That which to God alone of right belongs;  Yet so much bounty is in God, such grace,  That who advance his glory, not thir own,  Them he himself to glory will advance.  So spake the Son of God; and here again  Satan had not to answer, but stood struck  With guilt of his own sin, for he himself  Insatiable of glory had lost all,  Yet of another Plea bethought him soon.  Of glory as thou wilt, said he, so deem,                            150  Worth or not worth the seeking, let it pass:  But to a Kingdom thou art born, ordain'd  To sit upon thy Father David's Throne;  By Mother's side thy Father, though thy right  Be now in powerful hands, that will not part  Easily from possession won with arms;  Judaea now and all the promis'd land  Reduc't a Province under Roman yoke,  Obeys Tiberius; nor is always rul'd  With temperate sway; oft have they violated                         160  The Temple, oft the Law with foul affronts,  Abominations rather, as did once  Antiochus: and think'st thou to regain  Thy right by sitting still or thus retiring?  So did not Machabeus: he indeed  Retir'd unto the Desert, but with arms;  And o're a mighty King so oft prevail'd,  That by strong hand his Family obtain'd,  Though Priests, the Crown, and David's Throne usurp'd,  With Modin and her Suburbs once content.                            170  If Kingdom move thee not, let move thee Zeal,  And Duty; Zeal and Duty are not slow;  But on Occasions forelock watchful wait.  They themselves rather are occasion best,  Zeal of thy Fathers house, Duty to free  Thy Country from her Heathen servitude;  So shalt thou best fullfil, best verifie  The Prophets old, who sung thy endless raign,  The happier raign the sooner it begins,  Raign then; what canst thou better do the while?                    180  To whom our saviour answer thus return'd.  All things are best fullfil'd in thir due time,  And time there is for all things, Truth hath said:  If of my raign Prophetic Writ hath told  That it shall never end, so when begin  The Father in his purpose hath decreed,  He in whose hand all times and seasons roul.  What if he hath decreed that I shall first  Be try'd in humble state, and things adverse,  By tribulations, injuries, insults,                                 190  Contempts, and scorns, and snares, and violence,  Suffering, abstaining, quietly expecting  Without distrust or doubt, that he may know  What I can suffer, how obey? who best  Can suffer, best can do; best reign, who first  Well hath obey'd; just tryal e're I merit  My exaltation without change or end.  But what concerns it thee when I begin  My everlasting Kingdom, why art thou  Sollicitous, what moves thy inquisition?                            200  Know'st thou not that my rising is thy fall,  And my promotion will be thy destruction?  To whom the Tempter inly rackt reply'd.  Let that come when it comes; all hope is lost  Of my reception into grace; what worse?  For where no hope is left, is left no fear;  If there be worse, the expectation more  Of worse torments me then the feeling can.  I would be at the worst; worst is my Port.  My harbour and my ultimate repose,                                  210  The end I would attain, my final good.  My error was my error, and my crime  My crime; whatever for it self condemn'd  And will alike be punish'd; whether thou  Raign or raign not; though to that gentle brow  Willingly I could flye, and hope thy raign,  From that placid aspect and meek regard,  Rather then aggravate my evil state,  Would stand between me and thy Fathers ire,  (Whose ire I dread more then the fire of Hell,)                     220  A shelter and a kind of shading cool  Interposition, as a summers cloud.  If I then to the worst that can be hast,  Why move thy feet so slow to what is best,  Happiest both to thy self and all the world,  That thou who worthiest art should'st be thir King?  Perhaps thou linger'st in deep thoughts detain d  Of the enterprize so hazardous and high;  No wonder, for though in thee be united  What of perfection can in man be found,                             230  Or human nature can receive, consider  Thy life hath yet been private, most part spent  At home, scarce view'd the Gallilean Towns  And once a year Jerusalem, few days  Short sojourn; and what thence could'st thou observe?  The world thou hast not seen, much less her glory,  Empires, and Monarchs, and thir radiant Courts  Best school of best experience, quickest in sight  In all things that to greatest actions lead.  The wisest, unexperienc't, will be ever                             240  Timorous and loth, with novice modesty,  (As he who seeking Asses found a Kingdom)  Irresolute, unhardy, unadventrous:  But I will bring thee where thou soon shalt quit  Those rudiments, and see before thine eyes  The Monarchies of the Earth, thir pomp and state,  Sufficient introduction to inform  Thee, of thy self so apt, in regal Arts,  And regal Mysteries; that thou may'st know  How best their opposition to withstand.                             250  With that (such power was giv'n him then) he took  The Son of God up to a Mountain high.  It was a Mountain at whose verdant feet  A spatious plain out strech't in circuit wide  Lay pleasant; from his side two rivers flow'd,  Th' one winding, the other strait and left between  Fair Champain with less rivers interveind,  Then meeting joyn'd thir tribute to the Sea:  Fertil of corn the glebe, of oyl and wine,  With herds the pastures throng'd, with flocks the hills,            260  Huge Cities and high towr'd, that well might seem  The seats of mightiest Monarchs, and so large  The Prospect was, that here and there was room  For barren desert fountainless and dry.  To this high mountain top the Tempter brought  Our Saviour, and new train of words began.  Well have we speeded, and o're hill and dale,  Forest and field, and flood, Temples and Towers  Cut shorter many a league; here thou behold'st  Assyria and her Empires antient bounds,                             270  Araxes and the Caspian lake, thence on  As far as Indus East, Euphrates West,  And oft beyond; to South the Persian Bay,  And inaccessible the Arabian drouth:  Here Ninevee, of length within her wall  Several days journey, built by Ninus old,  Of that first golden Monarchy the seat,  And seat of Salmanassar, whose success  Israel in long captivity still mourns;  There Babylon the wonder of all tongues,                            280  As antient, but rebuilt by him who twice  Judah and all thy Father David's house  Led captive, and Jerusalem laid waste,  Till Cyrus set them free; Persepolis  His City there thou seest, and Bactra there;  Ecbatana her structure vast there shews,  And Hecatompylos her hunderd gates,  There Susa by Choaspes, amber stream,  The drink of none but Kings; of later fame  Built by Emathian, or by Parthian hands,                            290  The great Seleucia, Nisibis, and there  Artaxata, Teredon, Tesiphon,  Turning with easie eye thou may'st behold.  All these the Parthian, now some Ages past,  By great Arsaces led, who founded first  That Empire, under his dominion holds  From the luxurious Kings of Antioch won.  And just in time thou com'st to have a view  Of his great power; for now the Parthian King  In Ctesiphon hath gather'd all his Host                             300  Against the Scythian, whose incursions wild  Have wasted Sogdiana; to her aid  He marches now in hast; see, though from far,  His thousands, in what martial equipage  They issue forth, Steel Bows, and Shafts their arms  Of equal dread in flight, or in pursuit;  All Horsemen, in which fight they most excel;  See how in warlike muster they appear,  In Rhombs and wedges, and half moons, and wings.  He look't and saw what numbers numberless                           310  The City gates out powr'd, light armed Troops  In coats of Mail and military pride;  In Mail thir horses clad, yet fleet and strong,  Prauncing their riders bore, the flower and choice  Of many Provinces from bound to bound;  From Arachosia, from Candaor East,  And Margiana to the Hyrcanian cliffs  Of Caucasus, and dark Iberian dales,  From Atropatia and the neighbouring plains  Of Adiabene, Media, and the South                                   320  Of Susiana to Balsara's hav'n.  He saw them in thir forms of battell rang'd,  How quick they wheel'd, and flying behind them shot  Sharp sleet of arrowie showers against the face  Of thir pursuers, and overcame by flight;  The field all iron cast a gleaming brown,  Nor wanted clouds of foot, nor on each horn,  Cuirassiers all in steel for standing fight;  Chariots or Elephants endorst with Towers  Of Archers, nor of labouring Pioners                                330  A multitude with Spades and Axes arm'd  To lay hills plain, fell woods, or valleys fill,  Or where plain was raise hill, or over-lay  With bridges rivers proud, as with a yoke;  Mules after these, Camels and Dromedaries,  And Waggons fraught with Utensils of war.  Such forces met not, nor so wide a camp,  When Agrican with all his Northern powers  Besieg'd Albracca, as Romances tell;  The City of Gallaphrone, from thence to win                         340  The fairest of her Sex Angelica  His daughter, sought by many Prowest Knights,  Both Paynim, and the Peers of Charlemane.  Such and so numerous was thir Chivalrie;  At sight whereof the Fiend yet more presum'd,  And to our Saviour thus his words renew'd.  That thou may'st know I seek not to engage  Thy Vertue, and not every way secure  On no slight grounds thy safety; hear, and mark  To what end I have brought thee hither and shewn                    350  All this fair sight; thy Kingdom though foretold  By Prophet or by Angel, unless thou  Endeavour, as thy Father David did,  Thou never shalt obtain; prediction still  In all things, and all men, supposes means,  Without means us'd, what it predicts revokes.  But say thou wer't possess'd of David's Throne  By free consent of all, none opposite,  Samaritan or Jew; how could'st thou hope  Long to enjoy it quiet and secure,                                  360  Between two such enclosing enemies  Roman and Parthian? therefore one of these  Thou must make sure thy own, the Parthian first  By my advice, as nearer and of late  Found able by invasion to annoy  Thy country, and captive lead away her Kings  Antigonus, and old Hyrcanus bound,  Maugre the Roman: it shall be my task  To render thee the Parthian at dispose;  Chuse which thou wilt by conquest or by league                      370  By him thou shalt regain, without him not,  That which alone can truly reinstall thee  In David's royal seat, his true Successour,  Deliverance of thy brethren, those ten Tribes  Whose off-spring in his Territory yet serve  In Habor, and among the Medes dispers't,  Ten Sons of Jacob, two of Joseph lost  Thus long from Israel; serving as of old  Thir Fathers in the land of Egypt serv'd,  This offer sets before thee to deliver.                             380  These if from servitude thou shalt restore  To thir inheritance, then, nor till then,  Thou on the Throne of David in full glory,  From Egypt to Euphrates and beyond  Shalt raign, and Rome or Caesar not need fear.  To whom our Saviour answer'd thus unmov'd.  Much ostentation vain of fleshly arm,  And fragile arms, much instrument of war  Long in preparing, soon to nothing brought,  Before mine eyes thou hast set; and in my ear                       390  Vented much policy, and projects deep  Of enemies, of aids, battels and leagues,  Plausible to the world, to me worth naught.  Means I must use thou say'st, prediction else  Will unpredict and fail me of the Throne:  My time I told thee, (and that time for thee  Were better farthest off) is not yet come;  When that comes think not thou to find me slack  On my part aught endeavouring, or to need  Thy politic maxims, or that cumbersome                              400  Luggage of war there shewn me, argument  Of human weakness rather then of strength.  My brethren, as thou call'st them; those Ten Tribes  I must deliver, if I mean to raign  David's true heir, and his full Scepter sway  To just extent over all Israel's Sons;  But whence to thee this zeal, where was it then  For Israel or for David, or his Throne,  When thou stood'st up his Tempter to the pride  Of numbring Israel which cost the lives                             410  Of threescore and ten thousand Israelites  By three days Pestilence? such was thy zeal  To Israel then, the same that now to me.  As for those captive Tribes, themselves were they  Who wrought their own captivity, fell off  From God to worship Calves, the Deities  Of Egypt, Baal next and Ashtaroth,  And all the Idolatries of Heathen round,  Besides thir other worse then heathenish crimes;  Nor in the land of their captivity                                  420  Humbled themselves, or penitent besought  The God of their fore-fathers; but so dy'd  Impenitent, and left a race behind  Like to themselves, distinguishable scarce  From Gentils, but by Circumcision vain,  And God with Idols in their worship joyn'd.  Should I of these the liberty regard,  Who freed, as to their antient Patrimony,  Unhumbl'd, unrepentant, unreform'd,  Headlong would follow; and to thir Gods perhaps                     430  Of Bethel and of Dan? no, let them serve  Thir enemies, who serve Idols with God.  Yet he at length, time to himself best known,  Remembring Abraham by some wond'rous call  May bring them back repentant and sincere,  And at their passing cleave the Assyrian flood,  While to their native land with joy they hast,  As the Red Sea and Jordan once he cleft,  When to the promis'd land thir Fathers pass'd;  To his due time and providence I leave them.                        440  So spake Israel's true King, and to the Fiend  Made answer meet, that made void all his wiles.  So fares it when with truth falshood contends.  The End of the Third Book.





The Fourth Book.

PERPLEX'D and troubl'd at his bad success  The Tempter stood, nor had what to reply,  Discover'd in his fraud, thrown from his hope,  So oft, and the perswasive Rhetoric  That sleek't his tongue, and won so much on Eve,  So little here, nay lost; but Eve was Eve,  This far his over-match, who self deceiv'd  And rash, before-hand had no better weigh'd  The strength he was to cope with, or his own:  But as a man who had been matchless held                             10  In cunning, over-reach't where least he thought,  To salve his credit, and for very spight  Still will be tempting him who foyls him still,  And never cease, though to his shame the more;  Or as a swarm of flies in vintage time,  About the wine-press where sweet moust is powr'd,  Beat off; returns as oft with humming sound;  Or surging waves against a solid rock,  Though all to shivers dash't, the assault renew,  Vain battry, and in froth or bubbles end:                            20  So Satan, whom repulse upon repulse  Met ever; and to shameful silence brought,  Yet gives not o're though desperate of success,  And his vain importunity pursues.  He brought our Saviour to the western side  Of that high mountain, whence he might behold  Another plain, long but in bredth not wide;  Wash'd by the Southern Sea, and on the North  To equal length back'd with a ridge of hills  That screen'd the fruits of the earth and seats of men               30  From cold Septentrion blasts, thence in the midst  Divided by a river, of whose banks  On each side an Imperial City stood,  With Towers and Temples proudly elevate  On seven small Hills, with Palaces adorn'd,  Porches and Theatres, Baths, Aqueducts,  Statues and Trophees, and Triumphal Arcs,  Gardens and Groves presented to his eyes,  Above the highth of Mountains interpos'd.  By what strange Parallax or Optic skill                              40  Of vision multiplyed through air or glass  Of Telescope, were curious to enquire:  And now the Tempter thus his silence broke.  The City which thou seest no other deem  Then great and glorious Rome, Queen of the Earth  So far renown'd, and with the spoils enricht  Of Nations; there the Capitol thou seest  Above the rest lifting his stately head  On the Tarpeian rock, her Cittadel  Impregnable, and there Mount Palatine                                50  The Imperial Palace, compass huge, and high  The Structure, skill of noblest Architects,  With gilded battlements, conspicuous far,  Turrets and Terrases, and glittering Spires.  Many a fair Edifice besides, more like  Houses of Gods (so well I have dispos'd  My Aerie Microscope) thou may'st behold  Outside and inside both, pillars and roofs  Carv'd work, the hand of fam'd Artificers  In Cedar, Marble, Ivory or Gold.                                     60  Thence to the gates cast round thine eye, and see  What conflux issuing forth, or entring in,  Pretors, Proconsuls to thir Provinces  Hasting or on return, in robes of State;  Lictors and rods the ensigns of thir power,  Legions and Cohorts, turmes of horse and wings:  Or Embassies from Regions far remote  In various habits on the Appian road,  Or on the Aemilian, some from farthest South,  Syene, and where the shadow both way falls,                          70  Meroe, Nilotic Isle, and more to West,  The Realm of Bocchus to the Black-moor Sea;  From the Asian Kings and Parthian among these,  From India 'and the golden Chersoness,  And utmost Indian Isle Taprobane,  Dusk faces with white silken Turbants wreath'd:  From Gallia, Gades, and the Brittish West,  Germans and Scythians, and Sarmatians North  Beyond Danubius to the Tauric Pool.  All Nations now to Rome obedience pay,                               80  To Rome's great Emperour, whose wide domain  In ample Territory, wealth and power,  Civility of Manners, Arts, and Arms,  And long Renown thou justly may'st prefer  Before the Parthian; these two Thrones except,  The rest are barbarous, and scarce worth the sight,  Shar'd among petty Kings too far remov'd;  These having shewn thee, I have shewn thee all  The Kingdoms of the world, and all thir glory.  This Emperour hath no Son, and now is old,                           90  Old, and lascivious, and from Rome retir'd  To Capreae an Island small but strong  On the Campanian shore, with purpose there  His horrid lusts in private to enjoy,  Committing to a wicked Favourite  All publick cares, and yet of him suspicious,  Hated of all, and hating; with what ease  Indu'd with Regal Vertues as thou art,  Appearing, and beginning noble deeds,  Might'st thou expel this monster from his Throne                    100  Now made a stye, and in his place ascending  A victor people free from servile yoke?  And with my help thou may'st; to me the power  Is given, and by that right I give it thee.  Aim therefore at no less then all the world,  Aim at the highest, without the highest attain'd  Will be for thee no sitting, or not long  On Davids Throne, be propheci'd what will,  To whom the Son of God unmov'd reply'd.  Nor doth this grandeur and majestic show                            110  Of luxury, though call'd magnificence,  More then of arms before, allure mine eye,  Much less my mind; though thou should'st add to tell  Thir sumptuous gluttonies, and gorgeous feasts  On Cittron tables or Atlantic stone;  (For I have also heard, perhaps have read)  Their wines of Setia, Cales, and Falerne,  Chios and Creet, and how they quaff in Gold,  Crystal and Myrrhine cups imboss'd with Gems  And studs of Pearl, to me should'st tell who thirst                 120  And hunger still: then Embassies thou shew'st  From Nations far and nigh; what honour that,  But tedious wast of time to sit and hear  So many hollow complements and lies,  Outlandish flatteries? then proceed'st to talk  Of the Emperour, how easily subdu'd,  How gloriously; I shall, thou say'st, expel  A brutish monster: what if I withal  Expel a Devil who first made him such?  Let his tormenter Conscience find him out,                          130  For him I was not sent, nor yet to free  That people victor once, now vile and base,  Deservedly made vassal, who once just,  Frugal, and mild, and temperate, conquer'd well,  But govern ill the Nations under yoke,  Peeling thir Provinces, exhausted all  By lust and rapine; first ambitious grown  Of triumph that insulting vanity;  Then cruel, by thir sports to blood enur'd  Of fighting beasts, and men to beasts expos'd,                      140  Luxurious by thir wealth, and greedier still,  And from the daily Scene effeminate.  What wise and valiant man would seek to free  These thus degenerate, by themselves enslav'd,  Or could of inward slaves make outward free?  Know therefore when my season comes to sit  On David's Throne, it shall be like a tree  Spreading and over-shadowing all the Earth,  Or as a stone that shall to pieces dash  All Monarchies besides throughout the world,                        150  And of my Kingdom there shall be no end:  Means there shall be to this, but what the means,  Is not for thee to know, nor me to tell.  To whom the Tempter impudent repli'd.  I see all offers made by me how slight  Thou valu'st, because offer'd, and reject'st:  Nothing will please the difficult and nice,  Or nothing more then still to contradict:  On the other side know also thou, that I  On what I offer set as high esteem,                                 160  Nor what I part with mean to give for naught;  All these which in a moment thou behold'st,  The Kingdoms of the world to thee I give;  For giv'n to me, I give to whom I please,  No trifle; yet with this reserve, not else,  On this condition, if thou wilt fall down,  And worship me as thy superior Lord,  Easily done, and hold them all of me;  For what can less so great a gift deserve?  Whom thus our Saviour answer'd with disdain.                        170  I never lik'd thy talk, thy offers less,  Now both abhor, since thou hast dar'd to utter  The abominable terms, impious condition;  But I endure the time, till which expir'd,  Thou hast permission on me.  It is written  The first of all Commandments, Thou shalt worship  The Lord thy God, and only him shalt serve;  And dar'st thou to the Son of God propound  To worship thee accurst, now more accurst  For this attempt bolder then that on Eve,                           180  And more blasphemous? which expect to rue.  The Kingdoms of the world to thee were giv'n,  Permitted rather, and by thee usurp't,  Other donation none thou canst produce:  If given, by whom but by the King of Kings,  God over all supreme? if giv'n to thee,  By thee how fairly is the Giver now  Repaid? But gratitude in thee is lost  Long since.  Wert thou so void of fear or shame,  As offer them to me the Son of God,                                 190  To me my own, on such abhorred pact,  That I fall down and worship thee as God?  Get thee behind me; plain thou now appear'st  That Evil one, Satan for ever damn'd.  To whom the Fiend with fear abasht reply'd.  Be not so sore offended, Son of God;  Though Sons of God both Angels are and Men,  If I to try whether in higher sort  Then these thou bear'st that title, have propos'd  What both from Men and Angels I receive,                            200  Tetrarchs of fire, air, flood, and on the earth  Nations besides from all the quarter'd winds,  God of this world invok't and world beneath;  Who then thou art, whose coming is foretold  To me so fatal, me it most concerns.  The tryal hath indamag'd thee no way,  Rather more honour left and more esteem;  Me naught advantag'd, missing what I aim'd.  Therefore let pass, as they are transitory,  The Kingdoms of this world; I shall no more                         210  Advise thee, gain them as thou canst, or not.  And thou thy self seem'st otherwise inclin'd  Then to a worldly Crown, addicted more  To contemplation and profound dispute,  As by that early action may be judg'd,  When slipping from thy Mothers eye thou went'st  Alone into the Temple; there was found  Among the gravest Rabbies disputant  On points and questions fitting Moses Chair,  Teaching not taught; the childhood shews the man,                   220  As morning shews the day.  Be famous then  By wisdom; as thy Empire must extend,  So let extend thy mind o're all the world,  In knowledge, all things in it comprehend,  All knowledge is not couch't in Moses Law,  The Pentateuch or what the Prophets wrote,  The Gentiles also know, and write, and teach  To admiration, led by Natures light;  And with the Gentiles much thou must converse,  Ruling them by perswasion as thou mean'st,                          230  Without thir learning how wilt thou with them,  Or they with thee hold conversation meet?  How wilt thou reason with them, how refute  Thir Idolisms, Traditions, Paradoxes?  Error by his own arms is best evinc't.  Look once more e're we leave this specular Mount  Westward, much nearer by Southwest, behold  Where on the Aegean shore a City stands  Built nobly, pure the air, and light the soil,  Athens the eye of Greece, Mother of Arts                            240  And Eloquence, native to famous wits  Or hospitable, in her sweet recess,  City or Suburban, studious walks and shades;  See there the Olive Grove of Academe,  Plato's retirement, where the Attic Bird  Trills her thick-warbl'd notes the summer long,  There flowrie hill Hymettus with the sound  Of Bees industrious murmur oft invites  To studious musing; there Ilissus rouls  His whispering stream; within the walls then view                   250  The schools of antient Sages; his who bred  Great Alexander to subdue the world,  Lyceum there, and painted Stoa next:  There thou shalt hear and learn the secret power  Of harmony in tones and numbers hit  By voice or hand, and various-measur'd verse,  Aeolian charms and Dorian Lyric Odes,  And his who gave them breath, but higher sung,  Blind Melesigenes thence Homer call'd,  Whose Poem Phoebus challeng'd for his own.                          260  Thence what the lofty grave Tragoedians taught  In Chorus or Iambic, teachers best  Of moral prudence, with delight receiv'd  In brief sententious precepts, while they treat  Of fate, and chance, and change in human life;  High actions, and high passions best describing;  Thence to the famous Orators repair,  Those antient, whose resistless eloquence  Wielded at will that fierce Democratie,  Shook the Arsenal and fulmin'd over Greece,                         270  To Macedon, and Artaxerxes Throne;  To sage Philosophy next lend thine ear,  From Heaven descended to the low-rooft house  Of Socrates, see there his Tenement,  Whom well inspir'd the Oracle pronounc'd  Wisest of men; from whose mouth issu'd forth  Mellifluous streams that water'd all the schools  Of Academics old and new, with those  Sirnam'd Peripatetics, and the Sect  Epicurean, and the Stoic severe;                                    280  These here revolve, or, as thou lik'st, at home,  Till time mature thee to a Kingdom's waight;  These rules will render thee a King compleat  Within thy self, much more with Empire joyn'd.  To whom our Saviour sagely thus repli'd.  Think not but that I know these things, or think  I know them not; not therefore am I short  Of knowing what I aught: he who receives  Light from above, from the fountain of light,  No other doctrine needs, though granted true;                       290  But these are false, or little else but dreams,  Conjectures, fancies, built on nothing firm.  The first and wisest of them all profess'd  To know this only, that he nothing knew;  The next to fabling fell and smooth conceits,  A third sort doubted all things, though plain sence;  Others in vertue plac'd felicity,  But vertue joyn'd with riches and long life,  In corporal pleasure he, and careless ease,  The Stoic last in Philosophic pride,                                300  By him call'd vertue; and his vertuous man,  Wise, perfect in himself, and all possessing  Equal to God, oft shames not to prefer,  As fearing God nor man, contemning all  Wealth, pleasure, pain or torment, death and life,  Which when he lists, he leaves, or boasts he can,  For all his tedious talk is but vain boast,  Or subtle shifts conviction to evade.  Alas what can they teach, and not mislead;  Ignorant of themselves, of God much more,                           310  And how the world began, and how man fell  Degraded by himself, on grace depending?  Much of the Soul they talk, but all awrie,  And in themselves seek vertue, and to themselves  All glory arrogate, to God give none,  Rather accuse him under usual names,  Fortune and Fate, as one regardless quite  Of mortal things.  Who therefore seeks in these  True wisdom, finds her not, or by delusion  Far worse, her false resemblance only meets,                        320  An empty cloud.  However many books  Wise men have said are wearisom; who reads  Incessantly, and to his reading brings not  A spirit and judgment equal or superior,  (And what he brings, what needs he elsewhere seek)  Uncertain and unsettl'd still remains  Deep verst in books and shallow in himself;  Crude or intoxicate, collecting toys,  And trifles for choice matters, worth a spunge;  As Children gathering pibles on the shore.                          330  Or if I would delight my private hours  With Music or with Poem, where so soon  As in our native Language can I find  That solace?  All our Law and Story strew'd  With Hymns, our Psalms with artful terms inscrib'd,  Our Hebrew Songs and Harps in Babylon,  That pleas'd so well our Victors ear, declare  That rather Greece from us these Arts deriv'd;  Ill imitated, while they loudest sing  The vices of thir Deities, and thir own                             340  In Fable, Hymn, or Song, so personating  Thir Gods ridiculous, and themselves past shame.  Remove their swelling Epithetes thick laid  As varnish on a Harlots cheek, the rest,  Thin sown with aught of profit or delight,  Will far be found unworthy to compare  With Sion's songs, to all true tasts excelling,  Where God is prais'd aright, and Godlike men,  The Holiest of Holies, and his Saints;  Such are from God inspir'd, not such from thee;                     350  Unless where moral vertue is express't  By light of Nature not in all quite lost.  Thir Orators thou then extoll'st, as those  The top of Eloquence, Statists indeed,  And lovers of thir Country, as may seem;  But herein to our Prophets far beneath,  As men divinely taught, and better teaching  The solid rules of Civil Government  In thir majestic unaffected stile  Then all the Oratory of Greece and Rome.                            360  In them is plainest taught, and easiest learnt,  What makes a Nation happy, and keeps it so,  What ruins Kingdoms, and lays Cities flat;  These only with our Law best form a King.  So spake the Son of God; but Satan now  Quite at a loss, for all his darts were spent,  Thus to our Saviour with stern brow reply'd.  Since neither wealth, nor honour, arms nor arts,  Kingdom nor Empire pleases thee, nor aught  By me propos'd in life contemplative,  Or active, tended on by glory, or fame,                             370  What dost thou in this World? the Wilderness  For thee is fittest place, I found thee there,  And thither will return thee, yet remember  What I foretell thee, soon thou shalt have cause  To wish thou never hadst rejected thus  Nicely or cautiously my offer'd aid,  Which would have set thee in short time with ease  On David's Throne; or Throne of all the world,  Now at full age, fulness of time, thy season,                       380  When Prophesies of thee are best fullfill'd.  Now contrary, if I read aught in Heaven,  Or Heav'n write aught of Fate, by what the Stars  Voluminous, or single characters,  In thir conjunction met, give me to spell,  Sorrows, and labours, Opposition, hate,  Attends thee, scorns, reproaches, injuries,  Violence and stripes, and lastly cruel death,  A Kingdom they portend thee, but what Kingdom,  Real or Allegoric I discern not,                                    390  Nor when, eternal sure, as without end,  Without beginning; for no date prefixt  Directs me in the Starry Rubric set.  So saying he took (for still he knew his power  Not yet expir'd) and to the Wilderness  Brought back the Son of God, and left him there,  Feigning to disappear.  Darkness now rose,  As day-light sunk, and brought in lowring night  Her shadowy off-spring unsubstantial both,  Privation meer of light and absent day.                             400  Our Saviour meek and with untroubl'd mind  After his aerie jaunt, though hurried sore,  Hungry and cold betook him to his rest,  Wherever, under some concourse of shades  Whose branching arms thick intertwind might shield  From dews and damps of night his shelter'd head,  But shelter'd slept in vain, for at his head  The Tempter watch'd, and soon with ugly dreams  Disturb'd his sleep; and either Tropic now  'Gan thunder, and both ends of Heav'n, the Clouds                   410  From many a horrid rift abortive pour'd  Fierce rain with lightning mixt, water with fire  In ruine reconcil'd: nor slept the winds  Within thir stony caves, but rush'd abroad  From the four hinges of the world, and fell  On the vext Wilderness, whose tallest Pines,  Though rooted deep as high, and sturdiest Oaks  Bow'd thir Stiff necks, loaden with stormy blasts,  Or torn up sheer: ill wast thou shrouded then,  O patient Son of God, yet only stoodst                              420  Unshaken; nor yet staid the terror there,  Infernal Ghosts, and Hellish Furies, round  Environ'd thee, some howl'd, some yell'd, some shriek'd,  Some bent at thee thir fiery darts, while thou  Sat'st unappall'd in calm and sinless peace.  Thus pass'd the night so foul till morning fair  Came forth with Pilgrim steps in amice gray;  Who with her radiant finger still'd the roar  Of thunder, chas'd the clouds, and laid the winds,  And grisly Spectres, which the Fiend had rais'd                     430  To tempt the Son of God with terrors dire.  And now the Sun with more effectual beams  Had chear'd the face of Earth, and dry'd the wet  From drooping plant, or dropping tree; the birds  Who all things now behold more fresh and green,  After a night of storm so ruinous,  Clear'd up their choicest notes in bush and spray  To gratulate the sweet return of morn;  Nor yet amidst this joy and brightest morn  Was absent, after all his mischief done,                            440  The Prince of darkness, glad would also seem  Of this fair change, and to our Saviour came,  Yet with no new device, they all were spent,  Rather by this his last affront resolv'd,  Desperate of better course, to vent his rage,  And mad despight to be so oft repell'd.  Him walking on a Sunny hill he found,  Back'd on the North and West by a thick wood,  Out of the wood he starts in wonted shape;  And in a careless mood thus to him said.                            450  Fair morning yet betides thee Son of God,  After a dismal night; I heard the rack  As Earth and Skie would mingle; but my self  Was distant; and these flaws, though mortals fear them  As dangerous to the pillard frame of Heaven,  Or to the Earths dark basis underneath,  Are to the main as inconsiderable,  And harmless, if not wholsom, as a sneeze  To mans less universe, and soon are gone;  Yet as being oft times noxious where they light                     460  On man, beast, plant, wastful and turbulent,  Like turbulencies in the affairs of men,  Over whose heads they rore, and seem to point,  They oft fore-signifie and threaten ill:  This Tempest at this Desert most was bent;  Of men at thee, for only thou here dwell'st.  Did I not tell thee, if thou didst reject  The perfet season offer'd with my aid  To win thy destin'd seat, but wilt prolong  All to the push of Fate, persue thy way                             470  Of gaining David's Throne no man knows when,  For both the when and how is no where told,  Thou shalt be what thou art ordain'd, no doubt;  For Angels have proclaim'd it, but concealing  The time and means: each act is rightliest done,  Not when it must, but when it may be best.  If thou observe not this, be sure to find,  What I foretold thee, many a hard assay  Of dangers, and adversities and pains,  E're thou of Israel's Scepter get fast hold;                        480  Whereof this ominous night that clos'd thee round,  So many terrors, voices, prodigies  May warn thee, as a sure fore-going sign.  So talk'd he, while the Son of God went on  And staid not, but in brief him answer'd thus.  Mee worse then wet thou find'st not; other harm  Those terrors which thou speak'st of did me none;  I never fear'd they could, though noising loud  And threatning nigh; what they can do as signs  Betok'ning, or ill boding, I contemn                                490  As false portents, not sent from God, but thee;  Who knowing I shall raign past thy preventing.  Obtrud'st thy offer'd aid, that I accepting  At least might seem to hold all power of thee,  Ambitious spirit, and wouldst be thought my God,  And storm'st refus'd, thinking to terrifie  Mee to thy will; desist, thou art discern'd  And toil'st in vain, nor me in vain molest.  To whom the Fiend now swoln with rage reply'd:  Then hear, O Son of David, Virgin-born;                             500  For Son of God to me is yet in doubt,  Of the Messiah I have heard foretold  By all the Prophets; of thy birth at length  Announc't by Gabriel with the first I knew,  And of the Angelic Song in Bethlehem field,  On thy birth-night, that sung thee Saviour born.  From that time seldom have I ceas'd to eye  Thy infancy, thy childhood, and thy youth,  Thy manhood last, though yet in private bred;  Till at the Ford of Jordan whither all                              510  Flock'd to the Baptist, I among the rest,  Though not to be Baptiz'd, by voice from Heav'n  Heard thee pronounc'd the Son of God belov'd.  Thenceforth I thought thee worth my nearer view  And narrower Scrutiny, that I might learn  In what degree or meaning thou art call'd  The Son of God, which bears no single sence;  The Son of God I also am, or was,  And if I was, I am; relation stands;  All men are Sons of God; yet thee I thought                         520  In some respect far higher so declar'd.  Therefore I watch'd thy footsteps from that hour,  And follow'd thee still on to this wast wild;  Where by all best conjectures I collect  Thou art to be my fatal enemy.  Good reason then, if I before-hand seek  To understand my Adversary, who  And what he is; his wisdom, power, intent,  By parl, or composition, truce, or league  To win him, or win from him what I can.                             530  And opportunity I here have had  To try thee, sift thee, and confess have found thee  Proof against all temptation as a rock  Of Adamant, and as a Center, firm  To the utmost of meer man both wise and good,  Not more; for Honours, Riches, Kingdoms, Glory  Have been before contemn'd, and may agen:  Therefore to know what more thou art then man,  Worth naming Son of God by voice from Heav'n,  Another method I must now begin.                                    540  So saying he caught him up, and without wing  Of Hippogrif bore through the Air sublime  Over the Wilderness and o're the Plain;  Till underneath them fair Jerusalem,  The holy City lifted high her Towers,  And higher yet the glorious Temple rear'd  Her pile, far off appearing like a Mount  Of Alabaster, top't with golden Spires:  There on the highest Pinacle he set  The Son of God; and added thus in scorn:                            550  There stand, if thou wilt stand; to stand upright  Will ask thee skill; I to thy Fathers house  Have brought thee, and highest plac't, highest is best,  Now shew thy Progeny; if not to stand,  Cast thy self down; safely if Son of God:  For it is written, He will give command  Concerning thee to his Angels, in thir hands  They shall up lift thee, lest at any time  Thou chance to dash thy foot against a stone.  To whom thus Jesus: also it is written,                             560  Tempt not the Lord thy God, he said and stood.  But Satan smitten with amazement fell  As when Earths Son Antaeus (to compare  Small things with greatest) in Irassa strove  With Joves Alcides and oft foil'd still rose,  Receiving from his mother Earth new strength,  Fresh from his fall, and fiercer grapple joyn'd,  Throttl'd at length in the Air, expir'd and fell;  So after many a foil the Tempter proud,  Renewing fresh assaults, amidst his pride                           570  Fell whence he stood to see his Victor fall.  And as that Theban Monster that propos'd  Her riddle, and him, who solv'd it not, devour'd;  That once found out and solv'd, for grief and spight  Cast her self headlong from th' Ismenian steep,  So strook with dread and anguish fell the Fiend,  And to his crew, that sat consulting, brought  Joyless triumphals of his hop't success,  Ruin, and desperation, and dismay,  Who durst so proudly tempt the Son of God.                          580  So Satan fell and strait a fiery Globe  Of Angels on full sail of wing flew nigh,  Who on their plumy Vans receiv'd him soft  From his uneasie station, and upbore  As on a floating couch through the blithe Air,  Then in a flowry valley set him down  On a green bank, and set before him spred  A table of Celestial Food, Divine,  Ambrosial, Fruits fetcht from the tree of life,  And from the fount of life Ambrosial drink,                         590  That soon refresh'd him wearied, and repair'd  What hunger, if aught hunger had impair'd,  Or thirst, and as he fed, Angelic Quires  Sung Heavenly Anthems of his victory  Over temptation, and the Tempter proud.  True Image of the Father whether thron'd  In the bosom of bliss, and light of light  Conceiving, or remote from Heaven, enshrin'd  In fleshly Tabernacle, and human form,  Wandring the Wilderness, whatever place,                            600  Habit, or state, or motion, still expressing  The Son of God, with Godlike force indu'd  Against th' Attempter of thy Fathers Throne,  And Thief of Paradise; him long of old  Thou didst debel, and down from Heav'n cast  With all his Army, now thou hast aveng'd  Supplanted Adam, and by vanquishing  Temptation, hast regain'd lost Paradise,  And frustrated the conquest fraudulent:  He never more henceforth will dare set foot                         610  In Paradise to tempt; his snares are broke:  For though that seat of earthly bliss be fail'd,  A fairer Paradise is founded now  For Adam and his chosen Sons, whom thou  A Saviour art come down to re-install.  Where they shall dwell secure, when time shall be  Of Tempter and Temptation without fear.  But thou, Infernal Serpent, shalt not long  Rule in the Clouds; like an Autumnal Star  Or Lightning thou shalt fall from Heav'n trod down                  620  Under his feet: for proof, e're this thou feel'st  Thy wound, yet not thy last and deadliest wound  By this repulse receiv'd, and hold'st in Hell  No triumph; in all her gates Abaddon rues  Thy bold attempt; hereafter learn with awe  To dread the Son of God: he all unarm'd  Shall chase thee with the terror of his voice  From  thy Demoniac holds, possession foul,  Thee and thy Legions, yelling they shall flye,  And beg to hide them in a herd of Swine,                            630  Lest he command them down into the deep  Bound, and to torment sent before thir time.  Hail Son of the most High, heir of both worlds,  Queller of Satan, on thy glorious work  Now enter, and begin to save mankind.  Thus they the Son of God our Saviour meek  Sung Victor, and from Heavenly Feast refresht  Brought on his way with joy; hee unobserv'd  Home to his Mothers house private return'd.  The End.

Transcriber's Note: Title page of first edition of SamsonAgonistes follows:

SAMSON                           AGONISTES,                              A                        DRAMATIC POEM.  ——————————————————————————————                          The Author                          JOHN MILTON  ——————————————————————————————                     Aristot. Poet. Cap. 6.             Tragedia mimeis praxeos spadaias, &c.  Tragedia est imitatio actionis seriae. &c. Per misericordiam &     metum perficiens talium affectuum lustrationem.  ——————————————————————————————  ——————————————————————————————                            LONDON.             Printed by J.M. for John Starkey at the              Mitre in Fleetstreet, near Temple-Bar.                            MDCLXXI





SAMSON AGONISTES





Of that sort of Dramatic Poem which is call'd Tragedy.

TRAGEDY, as it was antiently compos'd, hath been ever held thegravest, moralest, and most profitable of all other Poems:therefore said by Aristotle to be of power by raising pity andfear, or terror, to purge the mind of those and such likepassions, that is to temper and reduce them to just measure witha kind of delight, stirr'd up by reading or seeing those passionswell imitated. Nor is Nature wanting in her own effects to makegood his assertion: for so in Physic things of melancholic hueand quality are us'd against melancholy, sowr against sowr, saltto remove salt humours. Hence Philosophers and other gravestWriters, as Cicero, Plutarch and others, frequently cite out ofTragic Poets, both to adorn and illustrate thir discourse. TheApostle Paul himself thought it not unworthy to insert a verse ofEuripides into the Text of Holy Scripture, I Cor. 15. 33. andParaeus commenting on the Revelation, divides the whole Book as aTragedy, into Acts distinguisht each by a Chorus of HeavenlyHarpings and Song between. Heretofore Men in highest dignity havelabour'd not a little to be thought able to compose a Tragedy. Ofthat honour Dionysius the elder was no less ambitious, thenbefore of his attaining to the Tyranny. Augustus Caesar also hadbegun his Ajax, but unable to please his own judgment with whathe had begun, left it unfinisht. Seneca the Philosopher is bysome thought the Author of those Tragedies (at lest the best ofthem) that go under that name. Gregory Nazianzen a Father of theChurch, thought it not unbeseeming the sanctity of his person towrite a Tragedy which he entitl'd, Christ suffering. This ismention'd to vindicate Tragedy from the small esteem, or ratherinfamy, which in the account of many it undergoes at this daywith other common Interludes; hap'ning through the Poets error ofintermixing Comic stuff with Tragic sadness and gravity; orintroducing trivial and vulgar persons, which by all judicioushath bin counted absurd; and brought in without discretion,corruptly to gratifie the people. And though antient Tragedy useno Prologue, yet using sometimes, in case of self defence, orexplanation, that which Martial calls an Epistle; in behalf ofthis Tragedy coming forth after the antient manner, muchdifferent from what among us passes for best, thus muchbefore-hand may be Epistl'd; that Chorus is here introduc'd afterthe Greek manner, not antient only but modern, and still in useamong the Italians. In the modelling therefore of this Poem withgood reason, the Antients and Italians are rather follow'd, as ofmuch more authority and fame. The measure of Verse us'd in theChorus is of all sorts, call'd by the Greeks Monostrophic, orrather Apolelymenon, without regard had to Strophe, Antistropheor Epod, which were a kind of Stanza's fram'd only for the Music,then us'd with the Chorus that sung; not essential to the Poem,and therefore not material; or being divided into Stanza's orPauses they may be call'd Allaeostropha. Division into Act andScene referring chiefly to the Stage (to which this work neverwas intended) is here omitted.

It suffices if the whole Drama be found not produc't beyondthe fift Act, of the style and uniformitie, and that commonlycall'd the Plot, whether intricate or explicit, which is nothingindeed but such oeconomy, or disposition of the fable as maystand best with verisimilitude and decorum; they only will bestjudge who are not unacquainted with Aeschulus, Sophocles, andEuripides, the three Tragic Poets unequall'd yet by any, and thebest rule to all who endeavour to write Tragedy. Thecircumscription of time wherein the whole Drama begins and ends,is according to antient rule, and best example, within the spaceof 24 hours.





The Argument.

Samson made Captive, Blind, and now in the Prison at Gaza,there to labour as in a common work-house, on a Festival day, inthe general cessation from labour, comes forth into the open Air,to a place nigh, somewhat retir'd there to sit a while and bemoanhis condition. Where he happens at length to be visited bycertain friends and equals of his tribe, which make the Chorus,who seek to comfort him what they can; then by his old FatherManoa, who endeavours the like, and withal tells him his purposeto procure his liberty by ransom; lastly, that this Feast wasproclaim'd by the Philistins as a day of Thanksgiving for thirdeliverance from the hands of Samson, which yet more troubleshim. Manoa then departs to prosecute his endeavour with thePhilistian Lords for Samson's redemption; who in the mean whileis visited by other persons; and lastly by a publick Officer torequire coming to the Feast before the Lords and People, to playor shew his strength in thir presence; he at first refuses,dismissing the publick officer with absolute denyal to come; atlength perswaded inwardly that this was from God, he yields to goalong with him, who came now the second time with greatthreatnings to fetch him; the Chorus yet remaining on the place,Manoa returns full of joyful hope, to procure e're long his Sonsdeliverance: in the midst of which discourse an Ebrew comes inhaste confusedly at first; and afterward more distinctly relatingthe Catastrophe, what Samson had done to the Philistins, and byaccident to himself; wherewith the Tragedy ends.

The Persons  Samson.  Manoa the father of Samson.  Dalila his wife.  Harapha of Gath.  Publick Officer.  Messenger.  Chorus of Danites
The Scene before the Prison in Gaza.  Sam:A little onward lend thy guiding hand  To these dark steps, a little further on;  For yonder bank hath choice of Sun or shade,  There I am wont to sit, when any chance  Relieves me from my task of servile toyl,  Daily in the common Prison else enjoyn'd me,  Where I a Prisoner chain'd, scarce freely draw  The air imprison'd also, close and damp,  Unwholsom draught: but here I feel amends,  The breath of Heav'n fresh-blowing, pure and sweet,                  10  With day-spring born; here leave me to respire.  This day a solemn Feast the people hold  To Dagon thir Sea-Idol, and forbid  Laborious works, unwillingly this rest  Thir Superstition yields me; hence with leave  Retiring from the popular noise, I seek  This unfrequented place to find some ease,  Ease to the body some, none to the mind  From restless thoughts, that like a deadly swarm  Of Hornets arm'd, no sooner found alone,                             20  But rush upon me thronging, and present  Times past, what once I was, and what am now.  O wherefore was my birth from Heaven foretold  Twice by an Angel, who at last in sight  Of both my Parents all in flames ascended  From off the Altar, where an Off'ring burn'd,  As in a fiery column charioting  His Godlike presence, and from some great act  Or benefit reveal'd to Abraham's race?  Why was my breeding order'd and prescrib'd                           30  As of a person separate to God,  Design'd for great exploits; if I must dye  Betray'd, Captiv'd, and both my Eyes put out,  Made of my Enemies the scorn and gaze;  To grind in Brazen Fetters under task  With this Heav'n-gifted strength? O glorious strength  Put to the labour of a Beast, debas't  Lower then bondslave! Promise was that I  Should Israel from Philistian yoke deliver;  Ask for this great Deliverer now, and find him                       40  Eyeless in Gaza at the Mill with slaves,  Himself in bonds under Philistian yoke;  Yet stay, let me not rashly call in doubt  Divine Prediction; what if all foretold  Had been fulfilld but through mine own default,  Whom have I to complain of but my self?  Who this high gift of strength committed to me,  In what part lodg'd, how easily bereft me,  Under the Seal of silence could not keep,  But weakly to a woman must reveal it                                 50  O'recome with importunity and tears.  O impotence of mind, in body strong!  But what is strength without a double share  Of wisdom, vast, unwieldy, burdensom,  Proudly secure, yet liable to fall  By weakest suttleties, not made to rule,  But to subserve where wisdom bears command.  God, when he gave me strength, to shew withal  How slight the gift was, hung it in my Hair.  But peace, I must not quarrel with the will                          60  Of highest dispensation, which herein  Happ'ly had ends above my reach to know:  Suffices that to me strength is my bane,  And proves the sourse of all my miseries;  So many, and so huge, that each apart  Would ask a life to wail, but chief of all,  O loss of sight, of thee I most complain!  Blind among enemies, O worse then chains,  Dungeon, or beggery, or decrepit age!  Light the prime work of God to me is extinct,  And all her various objects of delight  Annull'd, which might in part my grief have eas'd,  Inferiour to the vilest now become  Of man or worm; the vilest here excel me,  They creep, yet see, I dark in light expos'd  To daily fraud, contempt, abuse and wrong,  Within doors, or without, still as a fool,  In power of others, never in my own;  Scarce half I seem to live, dead more then half.  O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon,                          80  Irrecoverably dark, total Eclipse  Without all hope of day!  O first created Beam, and thou great Word,  Let there be light, and light was over all;  Why am I thus bereav'd thy prime decree?  The Sun to me is dark  And silent as the Moon,  When she deserts the night  Hid in her vacant interlunar cave.  Since light so necessary is to life,                                 90  And almost life itself, if it be true  That light is in the Soul,  She all in every part; why was the sight  To such a tender ball as th' eye confin'd?  So obvious and so easie to be quench't,  And not as feeling through all parts diffus'd,  That she might look at will through every pore?  Then had I not been thus exil'd from light;  As in the land of darkness yet in light,  To live a life half dead, a living death,                           100  And buried; but O yet more miserable!  My self, my Sepulcher, a moving Grave,  Buried, yet not exempt  By priviledge of death and burial  From worst of other evils, pains and wrongs,  But made hereby obnoxious more  To all the miseries of life,  Life in captivity  Among inhuman foes.  But who are these? for with joint pace I hear                       110  The tread of many feet stearing this way;  Perhaps my enemies who come to stare  At my affliction, and perhaps to insult,  Thir daily practice to afflict me more.  Chor:This, this is he; softly a while,  Let us not break in upon him;  O change beyond report, thought, or belief!  See how he lies at random, carelessly diffus'd,  With languish't head unpropt,  As one past hope, abandon'd                                         120  And by himself given over;  In slavish habit, ill-fitted weeds  O're worn and soild;  Or do my eyes misrepresent?  Can this be hee,  That Heroic, that Renown'd,  Irresistible Samson? whom unarm'd  No strength of man, or fiercest wild beast could withstand;  Who tore the Lion, as the Lion tears the Kid,  Ran on embattelld Armies clad in Iron,  And weaponless himself,                                             130  Made Arms ridiculous, useless the forgery  Of brazen shield and spear, the hammer'd Cuirass,  Chalybean temper'd steel, and frock of mail  Adamantean Proof;  But safest he who stood aloof,  When insupportably his foot advanc't,  In scorn of thir proud arms and warlike tools,  Spurn'd them to death by Troops.  The bold Ascalonite  Fled from his Lion ramp, old Warriors turn'd  Thir plated backs under his heel;                                   140  Or grovling soild thir crested helmets in the dust.  Then with what trivial weapon came to Hand,  The Jaw of a dead Ass, his sword of bone,  A thousand fore-skins fell, the flower of Palestin  In Ramath-lechi famous to this day:  Then by main force pull'd up, and on his shoulders bore  The Gates of Azza, Post, and massie Bar  Up to the Hill by Hebron, seat of Giants old,  No journey of a Sabbath day, and loaded so;  Like whom the Gentiles feign to bear up Heav'n.                     150  Which shall I first bewail,  Thy Bondage or lost Sight,  Prison within Prison  Inseparably dark?  Thou art become (O worst imprisonment!)  The Dungeon of thy self; thy Soul   (Which Men enjoying sight oft without cause complain)  Imprison'd now indeed,  In real darkness of the body dwells,  Shut up from outward light                                          160  To incorporate with gloomy night;  For inward light alas  Puts forth no visual beam.  O mirror of our fickle state,  Since man on earth unparallel'd!  The rarer thy example stands,  By how much from the top of wondrous glory,  Strongest of mortal men,  To lowest pitch of abject fortune thou art fall'n.  For him I reckon not in high estate                                 170  Whom long descent of birth  Or the sphear of fortune raises;  But thee whose strength, while vertue was her mate  Might have subdu'd the Earth,  Universally crown'd with highest praises.  Sam:I hear the sound of words, thir sense the air  Dissolves unjointed e're it reach my ear.  Chor:Hee speaks, let us draw nigh.  Matchless in might,  The glory late of Israel, now the grief;  We come thy friends and neighbours not unknown                      180  From Eshtaol and Zora's fruitful Vale  To visit or bewail thee, or if better,  Counsel or Consolation we may bring,  Salve to thy Sores, apt words have power to swage  The tumors of a troubl'd mind,  And are as Balm to fester'd wounds.  Sam:Your coming, Friends, revives me, for I learn  Now of my own experience, not by talk,  How counterfeit a coin they are who friends  Bear in their Superscription (of the most                           190  I would be understood) in prosperous days  They swarm, but in adverse withdraw their head  Not to be found, though sought.  Wee see, O friends.  How many evils have enclos'd me round;  Yet that which was the worst now least afflicts me,  Blindness, for had I sight, confus'd with shame,  How could I once look up, or heave the head,  Who like a foolish Pilot have shipwrack't,  My Vessel trusted to me from above,  Gloriously rigg'd; and for a word, a tear,                          200  Fool, have divulg'd the secret gift of God  To a deceitful Woman: tell me Friends,  Am I not sung and proverbd for a Fool  In every street, do they not say, how well  Are come upon him his deserts? yet why?  Immeasurable strength they might behold  In me, of wisdom nothing more then mean;  This with the other should, at least, have paird,  These two proportiond ill drove me transverse.  Chor:Tax not divine disposal, wisest Men                          210  Have err'd, and by bad Women been deceiv'd;  And shall again, pretend they ne're so wise.  Deject not then so overmuch thy self,  Who hast of sorrow thy full load besides;  Yet truth to say, I oft have heard men wonder  Why thou shouldst wed Philistian women rather  Then of thine own Tribe fairer, or as fair,  At least of thy own Nation, and as noble.  Sam:The first I saw at Timna, and she pleas'd  Mee, not my Parents, that I sought to wed,                          220  The daughter of an Infidel: they knew not  That what I motion'd was of God; I knew  From intimate impulse, and therefore urg'd  The Marriage on; that by occasion hence  I might begin Israel's Deliverance,  The work to which I was divinely call'd;  She proving false, the next I took to Wife  (O that I never had! fond wish too late)  Was in the Vale of Sorec, Dalila,  That specious Monster, my accomplisht snare.                        230  I thought it lawful from my former act,  And the same end; still watching to oppress  Israel's oppressours: of what now I suffer  She was not the prime cause, but I my self,  Who vanquisht with a peal of words (O weakness!)  Gave up my fort of silence to a Wo Man.  Chor:In seeking just occasion to provoke  The Philistine, thy Countries Enemy,  Thou never wast remiss, I hear thee witness:  Yet Israel still serves with all his Sons.                          240  Sam:That fault I take not on me, but transfer  On Israel's Governours, and Heads of Tribes,  Who seeing those great acts which God had done  Singly by me against their Conquerours  Acknowledg'd not, or not at all consider'd  Deliverance offerd: I on th' other side  Us'd no ambition to commend my deeds,  The deeds themselves, though mute, spoke loud the dooer;  But they persisted deaf, and would not seem  To count them things worth notice, till at length                   250  Thir Lords the Philistines with gather'd powers  Enterd Judea seeking mee, who then  Safe to the rock of Etham was retir'd,  Not flying, but fore-casting in what place  To set upon them, what advantag'd best;  Mean while the men of Judah to prevent  The harrass of thir Land, beset me round;  I willingly on some conditions came  Into thir hands, and they as gladly yield me  To the uncircumcis'd a welcom prey,                                 260  Bound with two cords; but cords to me were threds  Toucht with the flame: on thir whole Host I flew  Unarm'd, and with a trivial weapon fell'd  Thir choicest youth; they only liv'd who fled.  Had Judah that day join'd, or one whole Tribe,  They had by this possess'd the Towers of Gath,  And lorded over them whom now they serve;  But what more oft in Nations grown corrupt,  And by thir vices brought to servitude,  Then to love Bondage more then Liberty,                             270  Bondage with ease then strenuous liberty;  And to despise, or envy, or suspect  Whom God hath of his special favour rais'd  As thir Deliverer; if he aught begin,  How frequent to desert him, and at last  To heap ingratitude on worthiest deeds?  Chor:Thy words to my remembrance bring  How Succoth and the Fort of Penuel  Thir great Deliverer contemn'd,  The matchless Gideon in pursuit                                     280  Of Madian and her vanquisht Kings;  And how ingrateful Ephraim  Not worse then by his shield and spear  Had dealt with Jephtha, who by argument,  Defended Israel from the Ammonite,  Had not his prowess quell'd thir pride  In that sore battel when so many dy'd  Without Reprieve adjudg'd to death,  For want of well pronouncing Shibboleth.  Sam:Of such examples adde mee to the roul,                        290  Mee easily indeed mine may neglect,  But Gods propos'd deliverance not so.  Chor:Just are the ways of God,  And justifiable to Men;  Unless there be who think not God at all,  If any be, they walk obscure;  For of such Doctrine never was there School,  But the heart of the Fool,  And no man therein Doctor but himself.  Yet more there be who doubt his ways not just,                      300  As to his own edicts, found contradicting,  Then give the rains to wandring thought,  Regardless of his glories diminution;  Till by thir own perplexities involv'd  They ravel more, still less resolv'd,  But never find self-satisfying solution.  As if they would confine th' interminable,  And tie him to his own prescript,  Who made our Laws to bind us, not himself,  And hath full right to exempt                                       310  Whom so it pleases him by choice  From National obstriction, without taint  Of sin, or legal debt;  For with his own Laws he can best dispence.  He would not else who never wanted means,  Nor in respect of the enemy just cause  To set his people free,  Have prompted this Heroic Nazarite,  Against his vow of strictest purity,  To seek in marriage that fallacious Bride,                          320  Unclean, unchaste.  Down Reason then, at least vain reasonings down,  Though Reason here aver  That moral verdit quits her of unclean:  Unchaste was subsequent, her stain not his.  But see here comes thy reverend Sire  With careful step, Locks white as doune,  Old Manoah: advise  Forthwith how thou oughtst to receive him.  Sam:Ay me, another inward grief awak't,                           330  With mention of that name renews th' assault.  Man:Brethren and men of Dan, for such ye seem,  Though in this uncouth place; if old respect,  As I suppose, towards your once gloried friend,  My Son now Captive, hither hath inform'd  Your younger feet, while mine cast back with age  Came lagging after; say if he be here.  Chor:As signal now in low dejected state,  As earst in highest; behold him where he lies.  Man:O miserable change! is this the man,                          340  That invincible Samson, far renown'd,  The dread of Israel's foes, who with a strength  Equivalent to Angels walk'd thir streets,  None offering fight; who single combatant  Duell'd thir Armies rank't in proud array,  Himself an Army, now unequal match  To save himself against a coward arm'd  At one spears length.  O ever failing trust  In mortal strength! and oh what not in man  Deceivable and vain! Nay what thing good                            350  Pray'd for, but often proves our woe, our bane?  I pray'd for Children, and thought barrenness  In wedlock a reproach; I gain'd a Son,  And such a Son as all Men hail'd me happy;  Who would be now a Father in my stead?  O wherefore did God grant me my request,  And as a blessing with such pomp adorn'd?  Why are his gifts desirable, to tempt  Our earnest Prayers, then giv'n with solemn hand  As Graces, draw a Scorpions tail behind?                            360  For this did the Angel twice descend? for this  Ordain'd thy nurture holy, as of a Plant;  Select, and Sacred, Glorious for a while,  The miracle of men: then in an hour  Ensnar'd, assaulted, overcome, led bound,  Thy Foes derision, Captive, Poor, and Blind  Into a Dungeon thrust, to work with Slaves?  Alas methinks whom God hath chosen once  To worthiest deeds, if he through frailty err,  He should not so o'rewhelm, and as a thrall                         370  Subject him to so foul indignities,  Be it but for honours sake of former deeds.  Sam:Appoint not heavenly disposition, Father,  Nothing of all these evils hath befall'n me  But justly; I my self have brought them on,  Sole Author I, sole cause: if aught seem vile,  As vile hath been my folly, who have profan'd  The mystery of God giv'n me under pledge  Of vow, and have betray'd it to a woman,  A Canaanite, my faithless enemy.                                    380  This well I knew, nor was at all surpris'd,  But warn'd by oft experience: did not she  Of Timna first betray me, and reveal  The secret wrested from me in her highth  Of Nuptial Love profest, carrying it strait  To them who had corrupted her, my Spies,  And Rivals? In this other was there found  More Faith? who also in her prime of love,  Spousal embraces, vitiated with Gold,  Though offer'd only, by the sent conceiv'd                          390  Her spurious first-born; Treason against me?  Thrice she assay'd with flattering prayers and sighs,  And amorous reproaches to win from me  My capital secret, in what part my strength  Lay stor'd in what part summ'd, that she might know:  Thrice I deluded her, and turn'd to sport  Her importunity, each time perceiving  How openly, and with what impudence  She purpos'd to betray me, and (which was worse  Then undissembl'd hate) with what contempt                          400  She sought to make me Traytor to my self;  Yet the fourth time, when mustring all her wiles,  With blandisht parlies, feminine assaults,  Tongue-batteries, she surceas'd not day nor night  To storm me over-watch't, and wearied out.  At times when men seek most repose and rest,  I yielded, and unlock'd her all my heart,  Who with a grain of manhood well resolv'd  Might easily have shook off all her snares:  But foul effeminacy held me yok't                                   410  Her Bond-slave; O indignity, O blot  To Honour and Religion! servil mind  Rewarded well with servil punishment!  The base degree to which I now am fall'n,  These rags, this grinding, is not yet so base  As was my former servitude, ignoble,  Unmanly, ignominious, infamous,  True slavery, and that blindness worse then this,  That saw not how degeneratly I serv'd.  Man:I cannot praise thy Marriage choises, Son,                    420  Rather approv'd them not; but thou didst plead  Divine impulsion prompting how thou might'st  Find some occasion to infest our Foes.  I state not that; this I am sure; our Foes  Found soon occasion thereby to make thee  Thir Captive, and thir triumph; thou the sooner  Temptation found'st, or over-potent charms  To violate the sacred trust of silence  Deposited within thee; which to have kept  Tacit, was in thy power; true; and thou hear'st                     430  Enough, and more the burden of that fault;  Bitterly hast thou paid, and still art paying  That rigid score.  A worse thing yet remains,  This day the Philistines a popular Feast  Here celebrate in Gaza, and proclaim  Great Pomp, and Sacrifice, and Praises loud  To Dagon, as their God who hath deliver'd  Thee Samson bound and blind into thir hands,  Them out of thine, who slew'st them many a slain.  So Dagon shall be magnifi'd, and God,                               440  Besides whom is no God, compar'd with Idols,  Disglorifi'd, blasphem'd, and had in scorn  By th' Idolatrous rout amidst thir wine;  Which to have come to pass by means of thee,  Samson, of all thy sufferings think the heaviest,  Of all reproach the most with shame that ever  Could have befall'n thee and thy Fathers house.  Sam:Father, I do acknowledge and confess  That I this honour, I this pomp have brought  To Dagon, and advanc'd his praises high                             450  Among the Heathen round; to God have brought  Dishonour, obloquie, and op't the mouths  Of Idolists, and Atheists; have brought scandal  To Israel diffidence of God, and doubt  In feeble hearts, propense anough before  To waver, or fall off and joyn with Idols:  Which is my chief affliction, shame and sorrow,  The anguish of my Soul, that suffers not  Mine eie to harbour sleep, or thoughts to rest.  This only hope relieves me, that the strife                         460  With me hath end; all the contest is now  'Twixt God and Dagon; Dagon hath presum'd,  Me overthrown, to enter lists with God,  His Deity comparing and preferring  Before the God of Abraham. He, be sure,  Will not connive, or linger, thus provok'd,  But will arise and his great name assert:  Dagon must stoop, and shall e're long receive  Such a discomfit, as shall quite despoil him  Of all these boasted Trophies won on me,                            470  And with confusion blank his Worshippers.  Man:With cause this hope relieves thee, and these words  I as a Prophecy receive: for God,  Nothing more certain, will not long defer  To vindicate the glory of his name  Against all competition, nor will long  Endure it, doubtful whether God be Lord,  Or Dagon.  But for thee what shall be done?  Thou must not in the mean while here forgot  Lie in this miserable loathsom plight                               480  Neglected.  I already have made way  To some Philistian Lords, with whom to treat  About thy ransom: well they may by this  Have satisfi'd thir utmost of revenge  By pains and slaveries, worse then death inflicted  On thee, who now no more canst do them harm.  Sam:Spare that proposal, Father, spare the trouble  Of that sollicitation; let me here,  As I deserve, pay on my punishment;  And expiate, if possible, my crime,                                 490  Shameful garrulity.  To have reveal'd  Secrets of men, the secrets of a friend,  How hainous had the fact been, how deserving  Contempt, and scorn of all, to be excluded  All friendship, and avoided as a blab,  The mark of fool set on his front?  But I Gods counsel have not kept, his holy  secret  Presumptuously have publish'd, impiously,  Weakly at least, and shamefully: A sin  That Gentiles in thir Parables condemn                              500  To thir abyss and horrid pains confin'd.  Man:Be penitent and for thy fault contrite,  But act not in thy own affliction, Son,  Repent the sin, but if the punishment  Thou canst avoid, selfpreservation bids;  Or th' execution leave to high disposal,  And let another hand, not thine, exact  Thy penal forfeit from thy self; perhaps  God will relent, and quit thee all his debt;  Who evermore approves and more accepts                              510  (Best pleas'd with humble and filial submission)  Him who imploring mercy sues for life,  Then who selfrigorous chooses death as due;  Which argues overjust, and self-displeas'd  For self-offence, more then for God offended.  Reject not then what offerd means, who knows  But God hath set before us, to return thee  Home to thy countrey and his sacred house,  Where thou mayst bring thy off'rings, to avert  His further ire, with praiers and vows renew'd.                     520  Sam:His pardon I implore; but as for life,  To what end should I seek it? when in strength  All mortals I excell'd, and great in hopes  With youthful courage and magnanimous thoughts  Of birth from  Heav'n foretold and high exploits,  Full of divine instinct, after some proof  Of acts indeed heroic, far beyond  The Sons of Anac, famous now and blaz'd,  Fearless of danger, like a petty God  I walk'd about admir'd of all and dreaded                           530  On hostile ground, none daring my affront.  Then swoll'n with pride into the snare I fell  Of fair fallacious looks, venereal trains,  Softn'd with pleasure and voluptuous life;  At length to lay my head and hallow'd pledge  Of all my strength in the lascivious lap  Of a deceitful Concubine who shore me  Like a tame Weather, all my precious fleece,  Then turn'd me out ridiculous, despoil'd,  Shav'n, and disarm'd among my enemies.                              540  Chor:Desire of wine and all delicious drinks,  Which many a famous Warriour overturns,  Thou couldst repress, nor did the dancing Rubie  Sparkling; out-pow'rd, the flavor, or the smell,  Or taste that cheers the heart of Gods and men,  Allure thee from the cool Crystalline stream.  Sam:Where ever fountain or fresh current flow'd  Against the Eastern ray, translucent, pure,  With touch aetherial of Heav'ns fiery rod  I drank, from the clear milkie juice allaying                       550  Thirst, and refresht; nor envy'd them the grape  Whose heads that turbulent liquor fills with fumes.  Chor:O madness, to think use of strongest wines  And strongest drinks our chief support of health,  When God with these forbid'n made choice to rear  His mighty Champion, strong above compare,  Whose drink was only from the liquid brook.  Sam:But what avail'd this temperance, not compleat  Against another object more enticing?  What boots it at one gate to make defence,                          560  And at another to let in the foe  Effeminatly vanquish't? by which means,  Now blind, disheartn'd, sham'd, dishonour'd, quell'd,  To what can I be useful, wherein serve  My Nation, and the work from Heav'n impos'd,  But to sit idle on the houshold hearth,  A burdenous drone; to visitants a gaze,  Or pitied object, these redundant locks  Robustious to no purpose clustring down,  Vain monument of strength; till length of years                     570  And sedentary numness craze my limbs  To a contemptible old age obscure.  Here rather let me drudge and earn my bread,  Till vermin or the draff of servil food  Consume me, and oft-invocated death  Hast'n the welcom end of all my pains.  Man:Wilt thou then serve the Philistines with that gift  Which was expresly giv'n thee to annoy them?  Better at home lie bed-rid, not only idle,  Inglorious, unimploy'd, with age out-worn.                          580  But God who caus'd a fountain at thy prayer  From the dry ground to spring, thy thirst to allay  After the brunt of battel, can as easie  Cause light again within thy eies to spring,  Wherewith to serve him better then thou hast;  And I perswade me so; why else this strength  Miraculous yet remaining in those locks?  His might continues in thee not for naught,  Nor shall his wondrous gifts be frustrate thus.  Sam:All otherwise to me my thoughts portend,                      590  That these dark orbs no more shall treat with light,  Nor th' other light of life continue long,  But yield to double darkness nigh at hand:  So much I feel my genial spirits droop,  My hopes all flat, nature within me seems  In all her functions weary of herself;  My race of glory run, and race of shame,  And I shall shortly be with them that rest.  Man:Believe not these suggestions which proceed  From anguish of the mind and humours black,                         600  That mingle with thy fancy.  I however  Must not omit a Fathers timely care  To prosecute the means of thy deliverance  By ransom or how else: mean while be calm,  And healing words from these thy friends admit.  Sam:O that torment should not be confin'd  To the bodies wounds and sores  With maladies innumerable  In heart, head, brest, and reins;  But must secret passage find                                        610  To th' inmost mind,  There exercise all his fierce accidents,  And on her purest spirits prey,  As on entrails, joints, and limbs,  With answerable pains, but more intense,  'Though void of corporal sense.  My griefs not only pain me  As a lingring disease,  But finding no redress, ferment and rage,  Nor less then wounds immedicable                                    620  Ranckle, and fester, and gangrene,  To black mortification.  Thoughts my Tormenters arm'd with deadly stings  Mangle my apprehensive tenderest parts,  Exasperate, exulcerate, and raise  Dire inflammation which no cooling herb  Or medcinal liquor can asswage,  Nor breath of Vernal Air from snowy Alp.  Sleep hath forsook and giv'n me o're  To deaths benumming Opium as my only cure.                          630  Thence faintings, swounings of despair,  And sense of Heav'ns desertion.  I was his nursling once and choice delight,  His destin'd from the womb,  Promisd by Heavenly message twice descending.  Under his special eie  Abstemious I grew up and thriv'd amain;  He led me on to mightiest deeds  Above the nerve of mortal arm  Against the uncircumcis'd, our enemies.                             640  But now hath cast me off as never known,  And to those cruel enemies,  Whom I by his appointment had provok't,  Left me all helpless with th' irreparable loss  Of sight, reserv'd alive to be repeated  The subject of thir cruelty, or scorn.  Nor am I in the list of them that hope;  Hopeless are all my evils, all remediless;  This one prayer yet remains, might I be heard,  No long petition, speedy death,                                     650  The close of all my miseries, and the balm.  Chor:Many are the sayings of the wise  In antient and in modern books enroll'd;  Extolling Patience as the truest fortitude;  And to the bearing well of all calamities,  All chances incident to mans frail life  Consolatories writ  With studied argument, and much perswasion sought  Lenient of grief and anxious thought,  But with th' afflicted in his pangs thir sound                      680  Little prevails, or rather seems a tune,  Harsh, and of dissonant mood from his complaint,  Unless he feel within  Some sourse of consolation from above;  Secret refreshings, that repair his strength,  And fainting spirits uphold.  God of our Fathers, what is man!  That thou towards him with hand so various,  Or might I say contrarious,  Temperst thy providence through his short course,                   670  Not evenly, as thou rul'st  The Angelic orders and inferiour creatures mute,  Irrational and brute.  Nor do I name of men the common rout,  That wandring loose about  Grow up and perish, as the summer flie,  Heads without name no more rememberd,  But such as thou hast solemnly elected,  With gifts and graces eminently adorn'd  To some great work, thy glory,                                      680  And peoples safety, which in part they effect:  Yet toward these thus dignifi'd, thou oft  Amidst thir highth of noon,  Changest thy countenance, and thy hand with no regard  Of highest favours past  From thee on them, or them to thee of service.  Nor only dost degrade them, or remit  To life obscur'd, which were a fair dismission,  But throw'st them lower then thou didst exalt them high,  Unseemly falls in human eie,                                        690  Too grievous for the trespass or omission,  Oft leav'st them to the hostile sword  Of Heathen and prophane, thir carkasses  To dogs and fowls a prey, or else captiv'd:  Or to the unjust tribunals, under change of times,  And condemnation of the ingrateful multitude.  If these they scape, perhaps in poverty  With sickness and disease thou bow'st them down,  Painful diseases and deform'd,                                      700  In crude old age;  Though not disordinate, yet causless suffring  The punishment of dissolute days, in fine,  Just or unjust, alike seem miserable,  For oft alike, both come to evil end.  So deal not with this once thy glorious Champion,  The Image of thy strength, and mighty minister.  What do I beg? how hast thou dealt already?  Behold him in this state calamitous, and turn  His labours, for thou canst, to peaceful end.  But who is this, what thing of Sea or Land?                         710  Femal of sex it seems,  That so bedeckt, ornate, and gay,  Comes this way sailing  Like a stately Ship  Of Tarsus, bound for th' Isles  Of Javan or Gadier  With all her bravery on, and tackle trim,  Sails fill'd, and streamers waving,  Courted by all the winds that hold them play,  An Amber sent of odorous perfume                                    720  Her harbinger, a damsel train behind;  Some rich Philistian Matron she may seem,  And now at nearer view, no other certain  Than Dalila thy wife.  Sam:My Wife, my Traytress, let her not come near me.  Cho:Yet on she moves, now stands & eies thee fixt,  About t'have spoke, but now, with head declin'd  Like a fair flower surcharg'd with dew, she weeps  And words addrest seem into tears dissolv'd,  Wetting the borders of her silk'n veil:                             730  But now again she makes address to speak.  Dal:With doubtful feet and wavering resolution  I came, still dreading thy displeasure, Samson,  Which to have merited, without excuse,  I cannot but acknowledge; yet if tears  May expiate (though the fact more evil drew  In the perverse event then I foresaw)  My penance hath not slack'n'd, though my pardon  No way assur'd.  But conjugal affection  Prevailing over fear, and timerous doubt                            740  Hath led me on desirous to behold  Once more thy face, and know of thy estate.  If aught in my ability may serve  To light'n what thou suffer'st, and appease  Thy mind with what amends is in my power,  Though late, yet in some part to recompense  My rash but more unfortunate misdeed.  Sam:Out, out Hyaena; these are thy wonted arts,  And arts of every woman false like thee,  To break all faith, all vows, deceive, betray,                      750  Then as repentant to submit, beseech,  And reconcilement move with feign'd remorse,  Confess, and promise wonders in her change,  Not truly penitent, but chief to try  Her husband, how far urg'd his patience bears,  His vertue or weakness which way to assail:  Then with more cautious and instructed skill  Again transgresses, and again submits;  That wisest and best men full oft beguil'd  With goodness principl'd not to reject                              760  The penitent, but ever to forgive,  Are drawn to wear out miserable days,  Entangl'd with a poysnous bosom snake,  If not by quick destruction soon cut off  As I by thee, to Ages an example.  Dal:Yet hear me Samson; not that I endeavour  To lessen or extenuate my offence,  But that on th' other side if it be weigh'd  By it self, with aggravations not surcharg'd,  Or else with just allowance counterpois'd                           770  I may, if possible, thy pardon find  The easier towards me, or thy hatred less.  First granting, as I do, it was a weakness  In me, but incident to all our sex,  Curiosity, inquisitive, importune  Of secrets, then with like infirmity  To publish them, both common female faults:  Was it not weakness also to make known  For importunity, that is for naught,  Wherein consisted all thy strength and safety?                      780  To what I did thou shewdst me first the way.  But I to enemies reveal'd, and should not.  Nor shouldst thou have trusted that to womans frailty  E're I to thee, thou to thy self wast cruel.  Let weakness then with weakness come to parl  So near related, or the same of kind,  Thine forgive mine; that men may censure thine  The gentler, if severely thou exact not  More strength from me, then in thy self was found.  And what if Love, which thou interpret'st hate,                     790  The jealousie of Love, powerful of sway  In human hearts, nor less in mine towards thee,  Caus'd what I did? I saw thee mutable  Of fancy, feard lest one day thou wouldst leave me  As her at Timna, sought by all means therefore  How to endear, and hold thee to me firmest:  No better way I saw then by importuning  To learn thy secrets, get into my power  Thy key of strength and safety: thou wilt say,  Why then reveal'd? I was assur'd by those                           800  Who tempted me, that nothing was design'd  Against thee but safe custody, and hold:  That made for me, I knew that liberty  Would draw thee forth to perilous enterprises,  While I at home sate full of cares and fears  Wailing thy absence in my widow'd bed;  Here I should still enjoy thee day and night  Mine and Loves prisoner, not the Philistines,  Whole to my self, unhazarded abroad,  Fearless at home of partners in my love.                            810  These reasons in Loves law have past for good,  Though fond and reasonless to some perhaps:  And Love hath oft, well meaning, wrought much wo,  Yet always pity or pardon hath obtain'd.  Be not unlike all others, not austere  As thou art strong, inflexible as steel.  If thou in strength all mortals dost exceed,  In uncompassionate anger do not so.  Sam:How cunningly the sorceress displays  Her own transgressions, to upbraid me mine!                         820  That malice not repentance brought thee hither,  By this appears: I gave, thou say'st, th' example,  I led the way; bitter reproach, but true,  I to my self was false e're thou to me,  Such pardon therefore as I give my folly,  Take to thy wicked deed: which when thou seest  Impartial, self-severe, inexorable,  Thou wilt renounce thy seeking, and much rather  Confess it feign'd, weakness is thy excuse,  And I believe it, weakness to resist                                830  Philistian gold: if weakness may excuse,  What Murtherer, what Traytor, Parricide,  Incestuous, Sacrilegious, but may plead it?  All wickedness is weakness: that plea therefore  With God or Man will gain thee no remission.  But Love constrain'd thee; call it furious rage  To satisfie thy lust: Love seeks to have Love;  My love how couldst thou hope, who tookst the way  To raise in me inexpiable hate,  Knowing, as needs I must, by thee betray'd?                        840  In vain thou striv'st to cover shame with shame,  Or by evasions thy crime uncoverst more.  Dal:Since thou determinst weakness for no plea  In man or woman, though to thy own condemning,  Hear what assaults I had, what snares besides,  What sieges girt me round, e're I consented;  Which might have aw'd the best resolv'd of men,  The constantest to have yielded without blame.  It was not gold, as to my charge thou lay'st,  That wrought with me: thou know'st the Magistrates                  850  And Princes of my countrey came in person,  Sollicited, commanded, threatn'd, urg'd,  Adjur'd by all the bonds of civil Duty  And of Religion, press'd how just it was,  How honourable, how glorious to entrap  A common enemy, who had destroy'd  Such numbers of our Nation: and the Priest  Was not behind, but ever at my ear,  Preaching how meritorious with the gods  It would be to ensnare an irreligious                               860  Dishonourer of Dagon: what had I  To oppose against such powerful arguments?  Only my love of thee held long debate;  And combated in silence all these reasons  With hard contest: at length that grounded maxim  So rife and celebrated in the mouths  Of wisest men; that to the public good  Private respects must yield; with grave authority'  Took full possession of me and prevail'd;  Vertue, as I thought, truth, duty so enjoyning.                     870  Sam:I thought where all thy circling wiles would end;  In feign'd Religion, smooth hypocrisie.  But had thy love, still odiously pretended,  Bin, as it ought, sincere, it would have taught thee  Far other reasonings, brought forth other deeds.  I before all the daughters of my Tribe  And of my Nation chose thee from among  My enemies, lov'd thee, as too well thou knew'st,  Too well, unbosom'd all my secrets to thee,  Not out of levity, but over-powr'd                                  880  By thy request, who could deny thee nothing;  Yet now am judg'd an enemy.  Why then  Didst thou at first receive me for thy husband?  Then, as since then, thy countries foe profest:  Being once a wife, for me thou wast to leave  Parents and countrey; nor was I their subject,  Nor under their protection but my own,  Thou mine, not theirs: if aught against my life  Thy countrey sought of thee, it sought unjustly,  Against the law of nature, law of nations,                          890  No more thy countrey, but an impious crew  Of men conspiring to uphold thir state  By worse than hostile deeds, violating the ends  For which our countrey is a name so dear;  Not therefore to be obey'd.  But zeal mov'd thee;  To please thy gods thou didst it; gods unable  To acquit themselves and prosecute their foes  But by ungodly deeds, the contradiction  Of their own deity, Gods cannot be:  Less therefore to be pleas'd, obey'd, or fear'd,                    900  These false pretexts and varnish'd colours failing,  Bare in thy guilt how foul must thou appear?  Dal:In argument with men a woman ever  Goes by the worse, whatever be her cause.  Sam:For want of words no doubt, or lack of breath,  Witness when I was worried with thy peals.  Dal:I was a fool, too rash, and quite mistaken  In what I thought would have succeeded best.  Let me obtain forgiveness of thee, Samson,  Afford me place to shew what recompence                             910  Towards thee I intend for what I have misdone,  Misguided: only what remains past cure  Bear not too sensibly, nor still insist  To afflict thy self in vain: though sight be lost,  Life yet hath many solaces, enjoy'd  Where other senses want not their delights  At home in leisure and domestic ease,  Exempt from many a care and chance to which  Eye-sight exposes daily men abroad.  I to the Lords will intercede, not doubting                         920  Thir favourable ear, that I may fetch thee  From forth this loathsom prison-house, to abide  With me, where my redoubl'd love and care  With nursing diligence, to me glad office,  May ever tend about thee to old age  With all things grateful chear'd, and so suppli'd,  That what by me thou hast lost thou least shalt miss.  Sam:No, no, of my condition take no care;  It fits not; thou and I long since are twain;  Nor think me so unwary or accurst                                   930  To bring my feet again into the snare  Where once I have been caught; I know thy trains  Though dearly to my cost, thy ginns, and toyls;  Thy fair enchanted cup, and warbling charms  No more on me have power, their force is null'd,  So much of Adders wisdom I have learn't  To fence my ear against thy sorceries.  If in my flower of youth and strength, when all men  Lov'd, honour'd, fear'd me, thou alone could hate me  Thy Husband, slight me, sell me, and forgo me;                      940  How wouldst thou use me now, blind, and thereby  Deceiveable, in most things as a child  Helpless, thence easily contemn'd, and scorn'd,  And last neglected? How wouldst thou insult  When I must live uxorious to thy will  In perfet thraldom, how again betray me,  Bearing my words and doings to the Lords  To gloss upon, and censuring, frown or smile?  This Gaol I count the house of Liberty  To thine whose doors my feet shall never enter.                     950  Dal:Let me approach at least, and touch thy hand.  Sam:Not for thy life, lest fierce remembrance wake  My sudden rage to tear thee joint by joint.  At distance I forgive thee, go with that;  Bewail thy falshood, and the pious works  It hath brought forth to make thee memorable  Among illustrious women, faithful wives:  Cherish thy hast'n'd widowhood with the gold  Of Matrimonial treason: so farewel.  Dal:I see thou art implacable, more deaf                          960  To prayers, then winds and seas, yet winds to seas  Are reconcil'd at length, and Sea to Shore:  Thy anger, unappeasable, still rages,  Eternal tempest never to be calm'd.  Why do I humble thus my self, and suing  For peace, reap nothing but repulse and hate?  Bid go with evil omen and the brand  Of infamy upon my name denounc't?  To mix with thy concernments I desist  Henceforth, nor too much disapprove my own.                         970  Fame if not double-fac't is double-mouth'd,  And with contrary blast proclaims most deeds,  On both his wings, one black, th' other white,  Bears greatest names in his wild aerie flight.  My name perhaps among the Circumcis'd  In Dan, in Judah, and the bordering Tribes,  To all posterity may stand defam'd,  With malediction mention'd, and the blot  Of falshood most unconjugal traduc't.  But in my countrey where I most desire,                             980  In Ecron, Gaza, Asdod, and in Gath  I shall be nam'd among the famousest  Of Women, sung at solemn festivals,  Living and dead recorded, who to save  Her countrey from a fierce destroyer, chose  Above the faith of wedlock-bands, my tomb  With odours visited and annual flowers.  Not less renown'd then in Mount Ephraim,  Jael who with inhospitable guile  Smote Sisera sleeping through the Temples nail'd.                   990  Nor shall I count it hainous to enjoy  The public marks of honour and reward  Conferr'd upon me, for the piety  Which to my countrey I was judg'd to have shewn.  At this who ever envies or repines  I leave him to his lot, and like my own.  Chor:She's gone, a manifest Serpent by her sting  Discover'd in the end, till now conceal'd.  Sam:So let her go, God sent her to debase me,  And aggravate my folly who committed                               1000  To such a viper his most sacred trust  Of secresie, my safety, and my life.  Chor:Yet beauty, though injurious, hath strange power,  After offence returning, to regain  Love once possest, nor can be easily  Repuls't, without much inward passion felt  And secret sting of amorous remorse.  Sam:Love-quarrels oft in pleasing concord end,  Not wedlock-trechery endangering life.  Chor:It is not vertue, wisdom, valour, wit,                      1010  Strength, comliness of shape, or amplest merit  That womans love can win or long inherit;  But what it is, hard is to say,  Harder to hit,  (Which way soever men refer it)  Much like thy riddle, Samson, in one day  Or seven, though one should musing sit;  If any of these or all, the Timnian bride  Had not so soon preferr'd  Thy Paranymph, worthless to thee compar'd,                         1020  Successour in thy bed,  Nor both so loosly disally'd  Thir nuptials, nor this last so trecherously  Had shorn the fatal harvest of thy head.  Is it for that such outward ornament  Was lavish't on thir Sex, that inward gifts  Were left for hast unfinish't, judgment scant,  Capacity not rais'd to apprehend  Or value what is best  In choice, but oftest to affect the wrong?                         1030  Or was too much of self-love mixt,  Of constancy no root infixt,  That either they love nothing, or not long?  What e're it be, to wisest men and best  Seeming at first all heavenly under virgin veil,  Soft, modest, meek, demure,  Once join'd, the contrary she proves, a thorn  Intestin, far within defensive arms  A cleaving mischief, in his way to vertue  Adverse and turbulent, or by her charms                            1040  Draws him awry enslav'd  With dotage, and his sense deprav'd  To folly and shameful deeds which ruin ends.  What Pilot so expert but needs must wreck  Embarqu'd with such a Stears-mate at the Helm?  Favour'd of Heav'n who finds  One vertuous rarely found,  That in domestic good combines:  Happy that house! his way to peace is smooth:  But vertue which breaks through all opposition,                    1050  And all temptation can remove,  Most shines and most is acceptable above.  Therefore Gods universal Law  Gave to the man despotic power  Over his female in due awe,  Nor from that right to part an hour,  Smile she or lowre:  So shall he least confusion draw  On his whole life, not sway'd  By female usurpation, nor dismay'd.                                1060  But had we best retire, I see a storm?  Sam:Fair days have oft contracted wind and rain.  Chor:But this another kind of tempest brings.  Sam:Be less abstruse, my riddling days are past.  Chor:Look now for no inchanting voice, nor fear  The bait of honied words; a rougher tongue  Draws hitherward, I know him by his stride,  The Giant Harapha of Gath, his look  Haughty as is his pile high-built and proud.  Comes he in peace? what wind hath blown him hither                 1070  I less conjecture then when first I saw  The sumptuous Dalila floating this way:  His habit carries peace, his brow defiance.  Sam:Or peace or not, alike to me he comes.  Chor:His fraught we soon shall know, he now arrives.  Har:I come not Samson, to condole thy chance,  As these perhaps, yet wish it had not been,  Though for no friendly intent.  I am of Gath,  Men call me Harapha, of stock renown'd  As Og or Anak and the Emims old                                    1080  That Kiriathaim held, thou knowst me now  If thou at all art known.  Much I have heard  Of thy prodigious might and feats perform'd  Incredible to me, in this displeas'd,  That I was never present on the place  Of those encounters, where we might have tri'd  Each others force in camp or listed field:  And now am come to see of whom such noise  Hath walk'd about, and each limb to survey,  If thy appearance answer loud report.                              1090  Sam:The way to know were not to see but taste.  Har:Dost thou already single me; I thought  Gives and the Mill had tam'd thee? O that fortune  Had brought me to the field where thou art fam'd  To have wrought such wonders with an Asses Jaw;  I should have forc'd thee soon with other arms,  Or left thy carkass where the Ass lay thrown:  So had the glory of Prowess been recover'd  To Palestine, won by a Philistine  From the unforeskinn'd race, of whom thou hear'st                  1100  The highest name for valiant Acts, that honour  Certain to have won by mortal duel from thee,  I lose, prevented by thy eyes put out.  Sam:Boast not of what thou wouldst have done, but do  What then thou would'st, thou seest it in thy hand.  Har:To combat with a blind man I disdain  And thou hast need much washing to be toucht.  Sam:Such usage as your honourable Lords  Afford me assassinated and betray'd,  Who durst not with thir whole united powers                        1110  In fight withstand me single and unarm'd,  Nor in the house with chamber Ambushes  Close-banded durst attaque me, no not sleeping,  Till they had hir'd a woman with their gold  Breaking her Marriage Faith to circumvent me.  Therefore without feign'd shifts let be assign'd  Some narrow place enclos'd, where sight may give thee.  Or rather flight, no great advantage on me;  Then put on all thy gorgeous arms, thy Helmet  And Brigandine of brass, thy broad Habergeon.                      1120  Vant-brass and Greves, and Gauntlet, add thy Spear  A Weavers beam, and seven-times-folded shield.  I only with an Oak'n staff will meet thee,  And raise such out-cries on thy clatter'd Iron,  Which long shall not with-hold mee from thy head,  That in a little time while breath remains thee,  Thou oft shalt wish thy self at Gath to boast  Again in safety what thou wouldst have done  To Samson, but shalt never see Gath more.  Har:Thou durst not thus disparage glorious arms                   1130  Which greatest Heroes have in battel worn,  Thir ornament and safety, had not spells  And black enchantments, some Magicians Art  Arm'd thee or charm'd thee strong, which thou from Heaven  Feigndst at thy birth was giv'n thee in thy hair,  Where strength can least abide, though all thy hairs  Were bristles rang'd like those that ridge the back  Of chaf't wild Boars, or ruffl'd Porcupines.  Sam:I know no Spells, use no forbidden Arts;  My trust is in the living God who gave me                          1140  At my Nativity this strength, diffus'd  No less through all my sinews, joints and bones,  Then thine, while I preserv'd these locks unshorn,  The pledge of my unviolated vow.  For proof hereof, if Dagon be thy god,  Go to his Temple, invocate his aid  With solemnest devotion, spread before him  How highly it concerns his glory now  To frustrate and dissolve these Magic spells,  Which I to be the power of Israel's God                            1150  Avow, and challenge Dagon to the test,  Offering to combat thee his Champion bold,  With th' utmost of his Godhead seconded:  Then thou shalt see, or rather to thy sorrow  Soon feel, whose God is strongest, thine or mine.  Har:Presume not on thy God, what e're he be,  Thee he regards not, owns not, hath cut off  Quite from his people, and delivered up  Into thy Enemies hand, permitted them  To put out both thine eyes, and fetter'd send thee                 1160  Into the common Prison, there to grind  Among the Slaves and Asses thy comrades,  As good for nothing else, no better service  With those, thy boyst'rous locks, no worthy match  For valour to assail, nor by the sword  Of noble Warriour, so to stain his honour,  But by the Barbers razor best subdu'd.  Sam:All these indignities, for such they are  From thine, these evils I deserve and more,  Acknowledge them from God inflicted on me                          1170  Justly, yet despair not of his final pardon  Whose ear is ever open; and his eye  Gracious to re-admit the suppliant;  In confidence whereof I once again  Defie thee to the trial of mortal fight,  By combat to decide whose god is God,  Thine or whom I with Israel's Sons adore.  Har:Fair honour that thou dost thy God, in trusting  He will accept thee to defend his cause,  A Murtherer, a Revolter, and a Robber.                             1180  Sam:Tongue-doubtie Giant, how dost thou prove me these?  Har:Is not thy Nation subject to our Lords?  Thir Magistrates confest it, when they took thee  As a League-breaker and deliver'd bound  Into our hands: for hadst thou not committed  Notorious murder on those thirty men  At Askalon, who never did thee harm,  Then like a Robber stripdst them of thir robes?  The Philistines, when thou hadst broke the league,  Went up with armed powers thee only seeking,                       1190  To others did no violence nor spoil.  Sam:Among the Daughters of the Philistines  I chose a Wife, which argu'd me no foe;  And in your City held my Nuptial Feast:  But your ill-meaning Politician Lords,  Under pretence of Bridal friends and guests,  Appointed to await me thirty spies,  Who threatning cruel death constrain'd the bride  To wring from me and tell to them my secret,  That solv'd the riddle which I had propos'd.                       1200  When I perceiv'd all set on enmity,  As on my enemies, where ever chanc'd,  I us'd hostility, and took thir spoil  To pay my underminers in thir coin.  My Nation was subjected to your Lords.  It was the force of Conquest; force with force  Is well ejected when the Conquer'd can.  But I a private person, whom my Countrey  As a league-breaker gave up bound, presum'd  Single Rebellion and did Hostile Acts.                             1210  I was no private but a person rais'd  With strength sufficient and command from Heav'n  To free my Countrey; if their servile minds  Me their Deliverer sent would not receive,  But to thir Masters gave me up for nought,  Th' unworthier they; whence to this day they serve.  I was to do my part from Heav'n assign'd,  And had perform'd it if my known offence  Had not disabl'd me, not all your force:  These shifts refuted, answer thy appellant                         1220  Though by his blindness maim'd for high attempts,  Who now defies thee thrice to single fight,  As a petty enterprise of small enforce.  Har:With thee a Man condemn'd, a Slave enrol'd,  Due by the Law to capital punishment?  To fight with thee no man of arms will deign.  Sam:Cam'st thou for this, vain boaster, to survey me,  To descant on my strength, and give thy verdit?  Come nearer, part not hence so slight inform'd;  But take good heed my hand survey not thee.                        1230  Har:O Baal-zebub! can my ears unus'd  Hear these dishonours, and not render death?  Sam:No man with-holds thee, nothing from thy hand  Fear I incurable; bring up thy van,  My heels are fetter'd, but my fist is free.  Har:This insolence other kind of answer fits.  Sam:Go baffl'd coward, lest I run upon thee,  Though in these chains, bulk without spirit vast,  And with one buffet lay thy structure low,  Or swing thee in the Air, then dash thee down                      1240  To the hazard of thy brains and shatter'd sides.  Har:By Astaroth e're long thou shalt lament  These braveries in Irons loaden on thee.  Chor:His Giantship is gone somewhat crestfall'n,  Stalking with less unconsci'nable strides,  And lower looks, but in a sultrie chafe.  Sam:I dread him not, nor all his Giant-brood,  Though Fame divulge him Father of five Sons  All of Gigantic size, Goliah chief.  Chor:He will directly to the Lords, I fear,                      1250  And with malitious counsel stir them up  Some way or other yet further to afflict thee.  Sam:He must allege some cause, and offer'd fight  Will not dare mention, lest a question rise  Whether he durst accept the offer or not,  And that he durst not plain enough appear'd.  Much more affliction then already felt  They cannot well impose, nor I sustain;  If they intend advantage of my labours  The work of many hands, which earns my keeping                     1260  With no small profit daily to my owners.  But come what will, my deadliest foe will prove  My speediest friend, by death to rid me hence,  The worst that he can give, to me the best.  Yet so it may fall out, because thir end  Is hate, not help to me, it may with mine  Draw thir own ruin who attempt the deed.  Chor:Oh how comely it is and how reviving  To the Spirits of just men long opprest!  When God into the hands of thir deliverer                          1270  Puts invincible might  To quell the mighty of the Earth, th' oppressour,  The brute and boist'rous force of violent men  Hardy and industrious to support  Tyrannic power, but raging to pursue  The righteous and all such as honour Truth;  He all thir Ammunition  And feats of War defeats  With plain Heroic magnitude of mind  And celestial vigour arm'd,                                        1270  Thir Armories and Magazins contemns,  Renders them useless, while  With winged expedition  Swift as the lightning glance he executes  His errand on the wicked, who surpris'd  Lose thir defence distracted and amaz'd.  But patience is more oft the exercise  Of Saints, the trial of thir fortitude,  Making them each his own Deliverer,  And Victor over all                                                1290  That tyrannie or fortune can inflict,  Either of these is in thy lot,  Samson, with might endu'd  Above the Sons of men; but sight bereav'd  May chance to number thee with those  Whom Patience finally must crown.  This Idols day hath bin to thee no day of rest,  Labouring thy mind  More then the working day thy hands,  And yet perhaps more trouble is behind.                            1300  For I descry this way  Some other tending, in his hand  A Scepter or quaint staff he bears,  Comes on amain, speed in his look.  By his habit I discern him now  A Public Officer, and now at hand.  His message will be short and voluble.  Off:Ebrews, the Pris'ner Samson here I seek.  Chor:His manacles remark him, there he sits.  Off:Samson, to thee our Lords thus bid me say;                    1310  This day to Dagon is a solemn Feast,  With Sacrifices, Triumph, Pomp, and Games;  Thy strength they know surpassing human rate,  And now some public proof thereof require  To honour this great Feast, and great Assembly;  Rise therefore with all speed and come along,  Where I will see thee heartn'd and fresh clad  To appear as fits before th' illustrious Lords.  Sam:Thou knowst I am an Ebrew, therefore tell them,  Our Law forbids at thir Religious Rites                            1320  My presence; for that cause I cannot come.  Off:This answer, be assur'd, will not content them.  Sam:Have they not Sword-players, and ev'ry sort  Of Gymnic Artists, Wrestlers, Riders, Runners,  Juglers and Dancers, Antics, Mummers, Mimics,  But they must pick me out with shackles tir'd,  And over-labour'd at thir publick Mill,  To make them sport with blind activity?  Do they not seek occasion of new quarrels  On my refusal to distress me more,                                 1330  Or make a game of my calamities?  Return the way thou cam'st, I will not come.  Off:Regard thy self, this will offend them highly.  Sam:My self? my conscience and internal peace.  Can they think me so broken, so debas'd  With corporal servitude, that my mind ever  Will condescend to such absurd commands?  Although thir drudge, to be thir fool or jester,  And in my midst of sorrow and heart-grief  To shew them feats, and play before thir god,                      1340  The worst of all indignities, yet on me  Joyn'd with extream contempt? I will not come.  Off:My message was impos'd on me with speed,  Brooks no delay: is this thy resolution?  Sam:So take it with what speed thy message needs.  Off:I am sorry what this stoutness will produce.  Sam:Perhaps thou shalt have cause to sorrow indeed.  Chor:Consider, Samson; matters now are strain'd  Up to the highth, whether to bold or break;  He's gone, and who knows how he may report                         1350  Thy words by adding fuel to the flame?  Expect another message more imperious,  More Lordly thund'ring then thou well wilt bear.  Sam:Shall I abuse this Consecrated gift  Of strength, again returning with my hair  After my great transgression, so requite  Favour renew'd, and add a greater sin  By prostituting holy things to Idols;  A Nazarite in place abominable  Vaunting my strength in honour to thir Dagon?                      1360  Besides, how vile, contemptible, ridiculous,  What act more execrably unclean, prophane?  Chor:Yet with this strength thou serv'st the Philistines,  Idolatrous, uncircumcis'd, unclean.  Sam:Not in thir Idol-worship, but by labour  Honest and lawful to deserve my food  Of those who have me in thir civil power.  Chor:Where the heart joins not, outward acts defile not  Sam:Where outward force constrains, the sentence holds:  But who constrains me to the Temple of Dagon,                      1370  Not dragging? the Philistian Lords command.  Commands are no constraints.  If I obey them,  I do it freely; venturing to displease  God for the fear of Man, and Man prefer,  Set God behind: which in his jealousie  Shall never, unrepented, find forgiveness.  Yet that he may dispense with me or thee  Present in Temples at Idolatrous Rites  For some important cause, thou needst not doubt.  Chor:How thou wilt here come off surmounts my reach.             1380  Sam:Be of good courage, I begin to feel  Some rouzing motions in me which dispose  To something extraordinary my thoughts.  I with this Messenger will go along,  Nothing to do, be sure, that may dishonour  Our Law, or stain my vow of Nazarite.  If there be aught of presage in the mind,  This day will be remarkable in my life  By some great act, or of my days the last.  Chor:In time thou hast resolv'd, the man returns.                1390  Off:Samson, this second message from our Lords  To thee I am bid say. Art thou our Slave,  Our Captive, at the public Mill our drudge,  And dar'st thou at our sending and command  Dispute thy coming? come without delay;  Or we shall find such Engines to assail  And hamper thee, as thou shalt come of force,  Though thou wert firmlier fastn'd then a rock.  Sam:I could be well content to try thir Art,  Which to no few of them would prove pernicious.                    1400  Yet knowing thir advantages too many,  Because they shall not trail me through thir streets  Like a wild Beast, I am content to go.  Masters commands come with a power resistless  To such as owe them absolute subjection;  And for a life who will not change his purpose?  (So mutable are all the ways of men)  Yet this be sure, in nothing to comply  Scandalous or forbidden in our Law.  Off:I praise thy resolution, doff these links:                   1410  By this compliance thou wilt win the Lords  To favour, and perhaps to set thee free.  Sam:Brethren farewel, your company along  I will not wish, lest it perhaps offend them  To see me girt with Friends; and how the sight  Of me as of a common Enemy,  So dreaded once, may now exasperate them  I know not.  Lords are Lordliest in thir wine,  And the well-feasted Priest then soonest fir'd  With zeal, if aught Religion seem concern'd:                       1420  No less the people on thir Holy-days  Impetuous, insolent, unquenchable;  Happ'n what may, of me expect to hear  Nothing dishonourable, impure, unworthy  Our God, our Law, my Nation, or my self,  The last of me or no I cannot warrant.  Chor:Go, and the Holy One  Of Israel be thy guide  To what may serve his glory best, & spread his name  Great among the Heathen round:                                     1430  Send thee the Angel of thy Birth, to stand  Fast by thy side, who from thy Fathers field  Rode up in flames after his message told  Of thy conception, and be now a shield  Of fire; that Spirit that first rusht on thee  In the camp of Dan  Be efficacious in thee now at need.  For never was from Heaven imparted  Measure of strength so great to mortal seed,  As in thy wond'rous actions Hath been seen.                        1440  But wherefore comes old Manoa in such hast  With youthful steps? much livelier than e're while  He seems: supposing here to find his Son,  Or of him bringing to us some glad news?  Man:Peace with you brethren; my inducement hither  Was not at present here to find my Son,  By order of the Lords new parted hence  To come and play before them at thir Feast.  I heard all as I came, the City rings  And numbers thither flock, I had no will,                          1450  Lest I should see him forc't to things unseemly.  But that which moved my coming now, was chiefly  To give ye part with me what hope I have  With good success to work his liberty.  Chor:That hope would much rejoyce us to partake  With thee; say reverend Sire, we thirst to hear.  Man:I have attempted one by one the Lords  Either at home, or through the high street passing,  With supplication prone and Fathers tears  To accept of ransom for my Son thir pris'ner,                      1460  Some much averse I found and wondrous harsh,  Contemptuous, proud, set on revenge and spite;  That part most reverenc'd Dagon and his Priests,  Others more moderate seeming, but thir aim  Private reward, for which both God and State  They easily would set to sale, a third  More generous far and civil, who confess'd  They had anough reveng'd, having reduc't  Thir foe to misery beneath thir fears,  The rest was magnanimity to remit,                                 1470  If some convenient ransom were propos'd.  What noise or shout was that? it tore the Skie.  Chor:Doubtless the people shouting to behold  Thir once great dread, captive, & blind before them,  Or at some proof of strength before them shown.  Man:His ransom, if my whole inheritance  May compass it, shall willingly be paid  And numberd down: much rather I shall chuse  To live the poorest in my Tribe, then richest,  And he in that calamitous prison left.                             1480  No, I am fixt not to part hence without him.  For his redemption all my Patrimony,  If need be, I am ready to forgo  And quit: not wanting him, I shall want nothing.  Chor:Fathers are wont to lay up for thir Sons,  Thou for thy Son art bent to lay out all;  Sons wont to nurse thir Parents in old age,  Thou in old age car'st how to nurse thy Son,  Made older then thy age through eye-sight lost.  Man:It shall be my delight to tend his eyes,                      1490  And view him sitting in the house, enobl'd  With all those high exploits by him atchiev'd,  And on his shoulders waving down those locks,  That of a Nation arm'd the strength contain'd:  And I perswade me God had not permitted  His strength again to grow up with his hair  Garrison'd round about him like a Camp  Of faithful Souldiery, were not his purpose  To use him further yet in some great service,  Not to sit idle with so great a gift                               1500  Useless, and thence ridiculous about him.  And since his strength with eye-sight was not lost,  God will restore him eye-sight to his strength.  Chor:Thy hopes are not ill founded nor seem vain  Of his delivery, and thy joy thereon  Conceiv'd, agreeable to a Fathers love,  In both which we, as next participate.  Man:I know your friendly minds and—O what noise!  Mercy of Heav'n what hideous noise was that!  Horribly loud unlike the former shout.                             1510  Chor:Noise call you it or universal groan  As if the whole inhabitation perish'd,  Blood, death, and deathful deeds are in that noise,  Ruin, destruction at the utmost point.  Man:Of ruin indeed methought I heard the noise,  Oh it continues, they have slain my Son.  Chor:Thy Son is rather slaying them, that outcry  From slaughter of one foe could not ascend.  Man:Some dismal accident it needs must be;  What shall we do, stay here or run and see?                        1520  Chor:Best keep together here, lest running thither  We unawares run into dangers mouth.  This evil on the Philistines is fall'n  From whom could else a general cry be heard?  The sufferers then will scarce molest us here,  From other hands we need not much to fear.  What if his eye-sight (for to Israels God  Nothing is hard) by miracle restor'd,  He now be dealing dole among his foes,  And over heaps of slaughter'd walk his way?                        1530  Man:That were a joy presumptuous to be thought.  Chor:Yet God hath wrought things as incredible  For his people of old; what hinders now?  Man:He can I know, but doubt to think he will;  Yet Hope would fain subscribe, and tempts Belief.  A little stay will bring some notice hither.  Chor:Of good or bad so great, of bad the sooner;  For evil news rides post, while good news baits.  And to our wish I see one hither speeding,  An Ebrew, as I guess, and of our Tribe.                            1540  Mess:O whither shall I run, or which way flie  The sight of this so horrid spectacle  Which earst my eyes beheld and yet behold;  For dire imagination still persues me.  But providence or instinct of nature seems,  Or reason though disturb'd, and scarse consulted  To have guided me aright, I know not how,  To thee first reverend Manoa, and to these  My Countreymen, whom here I knew remaining,  As at some distance from the place of horrour,                     1550  So in the sad event too much concern'd.  Man:The accident was loud, & here before thee  With rueful cry, yet what it was we hear not,  No Preface needs, thou seest we long to know.  Mess:It would burst forth, but I recover breath  And sense distract, to know well what I utter.  Man:Tell us the sum, the circumstance defer.  Mess:Gaza yet stands, but all her Sons are fall'n,  All in a moment overwhelm'd and fall'n.  Man:Sad, but thou knowst to Israelites not saddest                1560  The desolation of a Hostile City.  Mess:Feed on that first, there may in grief be surfet.  Man:Relate by whom.                        Mess:By Samson.  Man:That still lessens  The sorrow, and converts it nigh to joy.  Mess:Ah Manoa I refrain, too suddenly  To utter what will come at last too soon;  Lest evil tidings with too rude irruption  Hitting thy aged ear should pierce too deep.  Man:Suspense in news is torture, speak them out.  Mess:Then take the worst in brief, Samson is dead.               1570  Man:The worst indeed, O all my hope's defeated  To free him hence! but death who sets all free  Hath paid his ransom now and full discharge.  What windy joy this day had I conceiv'd  Hopeful of his Delivery, which now proves  Abortive as the first-born bloom of spring  Nipt with the lagging rear of winters frost.  Yet e're I give the rains to grief, say first,  How dy'd he? death to life is crown or shame.  All by him fell thou say'st, by whom fell he,                      1580  What glorious band gave Samson his deaths wound?  Mess:Unwounded of his enemies he fell.  Man:Wearied with slaughter then or how? explain.  Mess:By his own hands.                         Man:Self-violence? what cause  Brought him so soon at variance with himself  Among his foes?                  Mess:Inevitable cause  At once both to destroy and be destroy'd;  The Edifice where all were met to see him  Upon thir heads and on his own he pull'd.  Man:O lastly over-strong against thy self!                       1590  A dreadful way thou took'st to thy revenge.  More than anough we know; but while things yet  Are in confusion, give us if thou canst,  Eye-witness of what first or last was done,  Relation more particular and distinct.  Mess:Occasions drew me early to this City,  And as the gates I enter'd with Sun-rise,  The morning Trumpets Festival proclaim'd  Through each high street: little I had dispatch't  When all abroad was rumour'd that this day                         1600  Samson should be brought forth to shew the people  Proof of his mighty strength in feats and games;  I sorrow'd at his captive state, but minded  Not to be absent at that spectacle.  The building was a spacious Theatre  Half round on two main Pillars vaulted high,  With seats where all the Lords and each degree  Of sort, might sit in order to behold,  The other side was op'n, where the throng  On banks and scaffolds under Skie might stand;                     1610  I among these aloof obscurely stood.  The Feast and noon grew high, and Sacrifice  Had fill'd thir hearts with mirth, high chear, & wine,  When to thir sports they turn'd.  Immediately  Was Samson as a public servant brought,  In thir state Livery clad; before him Pipes  And Timbrels, on each side went armed guards,  Both horse and foot before him and behind  Archers, and Slingers, Cataphracts and Spears.  At sight of him the people with a shout                            1620  Rifted the Air clamouring thir god with praise,  Who had made thir dreadful enemy thir thrall.  He patient but undaunted where they led him.  Came to the place, and what was set before him  Which without help of eye, might be assay'd,  To heave, pull, draw, or break, he still perform'd  All with incredible, stupendious force,  None daring to appear Antagonist.  At length for intermission sake they led him  Between the pillars; he his guide requested                        1630  (For so from such as nearer stood we heard)  As over-tir'd to let him lean a while  With both his arms on those two massie Pillars  That to the arched roof gave main support.  He unsuspitious led him; which when Samson  Felt in his arms, with head a while enclin'd,  And eyes fast fixt he stood, as one who pray'd,  Or some great matter in his mind revolv'd.  At last with head erect thus cryed aloud,  Hitherto, Lords, what your commands impos'd                        1640  I have perform'd, as reason was, obeying,  Not without wonder or delight beheld.  Now of my own accord such other tryal  I mean to shew you of my strength, yet greater;  As with amaze shall strike all who behold.  This utter'd, straining all his nerves he bow'd,  As with the force of winds and waters pent,  When Mountains tremble, those two massie Pillars  With horrible convulsion to and fro,  He tugg'd, he shook, till down they came and drew                  1650  The whole roof after them, with burst of thunder  Upon the heads of all who sate beneath,  Lords, Ladies, Captains, Councellors, or Priests,  Thir choice nobility and flower, not only  Of this but each Philistian City round  Met from all parts to solemnize this Feast.  Samson with these immixt, inevitably  Pulld down the same destruction on himself;  The vulgar only scap'd who stood without.  Chor:O dearly-bought revenge, yet glorious!                      1660  Living or dying thou hast fulfill'd  The work for which thou wast foretold  To Israel and now ly'st victorious  Among thy slain self-kill'd  Not willingly, but tangl'd in the fold  Of dire necessity, whose law in death conjoin'd  Thee with thy slaughter'd foes in number more  Then all thy life had slain before.  SemiChor:While thir hearts were jocund and sublime  Drunk with Idolatry, drunk with Wine,                              1670  And fat regorg'd of Bulls and Goats,  Chaunting thir Idol, and preferring  Before our living Dread who dwells  In Silo his bright Sanctuary:  Among them he a spirit of phrenzie sent,  Who hurt thir minds,  And urg'd them on with mad desire  To call in hast for thir destroyer;  They only set on sport and play  Unweetingly importun'd                                             1680  Thir own destruction to come speedy upon them.  So fond are mortal men  Fall'n into wrath divine,  As thir own ruin on themselves to invite,  Insensate left, or to sense reprobate,  And with blindness internal struck.  Chor:But he though blind of sight,  Despis'd and thought extinguish't quite,  With inward eyes illuminated  His fierie vertue rouz'd                                           1690  From under ashes into sudden flame,  And as an ev'ning Dragon came,  Assailant on the perched roosts,  And nests in order rang'd  Of tame villatic Fowl; but as an Eagle  His cloudless thunder bolted on thir heads.  So vertue giv'n for lost,  Deprest, and overthrown, as seem'd,  Like that self-begott'n bird  In the Arabian woods embost,                                       1700  That no second knows nor third,  And lay e're while a Holocaust,  From out her ashie womb now teem'd  Revives, reflourishes, then vigorous most  When most unactive deem'd,  And though her body die, her fame survives,  A secular bird ages of lives.  Man:Come, come, no time for lamentation now,  Nor much more cause, Samson hath quit himself  Like Samson, and heroicly hath finish'd                            1710  A life Heroic, on his Enemies  Fully reveng'd, hath left them years of mourning,  And lamentation to the Sons of Caphtor  Through all Philistian bounds. To Israel  Honour hath left, and freedom, let but them  Find courage to lay hold on this occasion,  To himself and Fathers house eternal fame;  And which is best and happiest yet, all this  With God not parted from him, as was feard,  But favouring and assisting to the end.                            1720  Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail  Or knock the breast, no weakness, no contempt,  Dispraise, or blame, nothing but well and fair,  And what may quiet us in a death so noble.  Let us go find the body where it lies  Sok't in his enemies blood, and from the stream  With lavers pure and cleansing herbs wash off  The clotted gore.  I with what speed the while  (Gaza is not in plight to say us nay)  Will send for all my kindred, all my friends                       1730  To fetch him hence and solemnly attend  With silent obsequie and funeral train  Home to his Fathers house: there will I build him  A Monument, and plant it round with shade  Of Laurel ever green, and branching Palm,  With all his Trophies hung, and Acts enroll'd  In copious Legend, or sweet Lyric Song.  Thither shall all the valiant youth resort,  And from his memory inflame thir breasts  To matchless valour, and adventures high:                          1740  The Virgins also shall on feastful days  Visit his Tomb with flowers, only bewailing  His lot unfortunate in nuptial choice,  From whence captivity and loss of eyes.  Chor:All is best, though we oft doubt,  What th' unsearchable dispose  Of highest wisdom brings about,  And ever best found in the close.  Oft he seems to hide his face,  But unexpectedly returns                                           1750  And to his faithful Champion hath in place  Bore witness gloriously; whence Gaza mourns  And all that band them to resist  His uncontroulable intent,  His servants he with new acquist  Of true experience from this great event  With peace and consolation hath dismist,  And calm of mind all passion spent.  The End.





APPENDIX.

Specimen of Milton's spelling, from the Cambridge autograph  manuscript.





ON TIME

(Set on a clock case)  Fly envious Time till thou run out thy race  call on the lazie leaden-stepping howres  whose speed is but the heavie plummets pace  & glut thy selfe wth what thy womb devoures  Wch is no more then what is false & vaine  & meerly mortall drosse  so little is our losse  so little is thy gaine  for when as each thing bad thou hast entomb'd  & last of all thy greedie selfe consum'd                             10  then long Aeternity shall greet our blisse  wth an individuall kisse  and Joy shall overtake us as a flood  when every thing yt is sincerely good  & pfectly divine  with Truth, & Peace, & Love shall ever shine  about the supreme throne  of him t' whose happy-making sight alone  when once our heav'nly-guided soule shall clime  then all this earthie grossnesse quit                                20  attir'd wth starres wee shall for ever sit  Triumphing over Death, & Chance, & thee O Time.






Randomly recommended for you
Copyright notice: Resources are from the Internet. Contact us if rights are infringed; we will remove them within 24 hours.

Copyright © 2016 Powered by The Poetical Works of John Milton, by John Milton,best kids keyboards for 8 year olds   sitemap

Back to top