Paradise
Lost: Book 10 (1674 version)
by
John Milton
(Poem)
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
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 haste
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
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,
And
easily approv'd; when the most High
Eternal
Father from his secret Cloud,
Amidst
in Thunder utter'd thus his voice.
Assembl'd
Angels, and ye Powers return'd
From
unsuccessful charge, be not dismaid,
Nor
troubl'd at these tidings from the Earth,
Which
your sincerest care could not prevent,
Foretold
so lately what would come to pass,
When
first this Tempter cross'd the Gulf from Hell.
I
told ye then he should prevail and speed
On
his bad Errand, Man should be seduc't
And
flatter'd out of all, believing lies
Against
his Maker; no Decree of mine
Concurring
to necessitate his Fall,
Or
touch with lightest moment of impulse
His
free Will, to her own inclining left
In
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,
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 might be seen that I intend
Mercie
collegue with Justice, sending thee
Mans
Friend, his Mediator, his design'd
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
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
Are
to behold the Judgment, but the judg'd,
Those
two; the third best absent is condemn'd,
Convict
by flight, and Rebel to all Law
Conviction
to the Serpent none belongs.
Thus
saying, from his radiant Seat he rose
Of
high collateral 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
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
The
thickest Trees, both Man and Wife, till God
Approaching,
thus to Adam call'd aloud.
Where
art thou Adam, wont with joy to meet
My
coming seen far off? I miss thee here,
Not
pleas'd, thus 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;
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
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
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,
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
Hers
in all real dignitie: Adornd
Shee
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
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)
Nor
alter'd his offence; yet God at last
To
Satan first in sin his doom apply'd,
Though
in mysterious terms, judg'd as then best:
And
on the Serpent thus his curse let fall.
Because
thou hast done this, thou art accurst
Above
all Cattle, each Beast of the Field;
Upon
thy Belly groveling thou shalt goe,
And
dust shalt eat all the dayes of thy Life.
Between
Thee and the Woman I will put
Enmitie,
and between thine and her Seed;
Her
Seed shall bruse 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
Realm it self of Satan long usurpt,
Whom
he shall tread at last under our feet;
Eeven
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,
Curs'd
is the ground for thy sake, thou in sorrow
Shalt
eate thereof all the days of thy Life;
Thorns
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 eat Bread,
Till
thou return unto the ground, for thou
Out
of the ground wast taken, know thy Birth,
For
dust thou art, and shalt to dust returne.
So
judg'd he Man, both Judge and Saviour sent,
And
th' instant stroke of Death denounc't that day
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 form 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
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,
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
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:
For
Death from Sin no power can separate.
But
least the difficultie of passing back
Stay
his return 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,
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
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,
Sagacious
of his Quarry from so farr.
Then
Both from out Hell Gates into the waste
Wide
Anarchie of Chaos damp and dark
Flew
divers, and 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
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
Over
the foaming deep high Archt, a Bridge
Of
length prodigious joyning to the Wall
Immovable
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,
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 self same place where hee
First
lighted from his Wing, and landed safe
From
out of Chaos to the out side 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
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
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
Might
suddenly inflict; that past, return'd
By
Night, and listening 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
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, join'd in connexion sweet,
That
thou on Earth hadst prosper'd, which thy looks
Now
also evidence, but straight I felt
Though
distant from thee Worlds between, yet felt
That
I must after thee with this thy Son;
Such
fatal consequence unites us three:
Hell
could no longer hold us in her bounds,
Nor
this unvoyageable Gulf obscure
Detain
from following thy illustrious track.
Thou
hast atchiev'd our libertie, confin'd
Within
Hell Gates till, now, thou us impow'rd
To
fortifie thus farr, and overlay
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,
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,
Mine
with this glorious Work, and 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 these numerous Orbs
All
yours, right down to Paradise descend;
There
dwell and Reign in bliss, thence on the Earth
Dominion
exercise and in the Aire,
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 prevailes, th' affaires of Hell
No
detriment need feare, goe and be strong.
So
saying he dismiss'd them, they with speed
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
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
Pandaemonium, 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.
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
Realm 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
Of
Forrein Worlds: he through the midst unmarkt,
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
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,
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
Voyag'd
th' unreal, vast, unbounded deep
Of
horrible confusion, over which
By
Sin and Death a broad way now is pav'd
To
expedite your glorious march; but I
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
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,
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,
Or
much more grievous pain? Ye have th' account
Of
my performance: What remains, ye Gods,
But
up and enter now into full bliss.
So
having said, a while he stood, expecting
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;
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
To
his bold Riot: dreadful was the din
Of
hissing through the Hall, thick swarming now
With
complicated monsters head and taile,
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,
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
ln
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,
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 Fruit like that
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
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
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
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.
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
To
stuff this Maw, this vast unhide-bound Corps.
To
whom th' incestuous Mother thus repli'd.
Thou
therefore on these Herbs, and Fruits, and 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.
This
said, they both betook them several wayes,
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
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 yielded up to their misrule;
And
know not that I call'd and drew them thither
My
Hell-hounds, to lick up the draff and filth
Which
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 sling
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.
He
ended, and the heav'nly Audience loud
Sung
Halleluia, as the sound of Seas,
Through
multitude that sung: Just are thy ways,
Righteous
are thy Decrees on all thy Works;
Who
can extenuate thee? Next, to the Son,
Destin'd
restorer of Mankind, by whom
New
Heav'n and Earth shall to the Ages rise,
Or
down from Heav'n descend. Such was thir song,
While
the Creator calling forth by name
His
mightie Angels gave them several charge,
As
sorted best with present things. The Sun
Had
first his precept so to move, so shine,
As
might affect the Earth with cold and heat
Scarce
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
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
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
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,
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;
With
adverse blast upturns 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, and Fowle with Fowle,
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
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 eat or drink, or shall beget,
Is
propagated curse. O voice once heard
Delightfully,
Encrease and multiply,
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
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
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
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:
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
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
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
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
From
this day onward, which 1 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!
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 me 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 then acquitted stand
In
sight of God? Him after all Disputes
Forc't
I absolve: all my evasions vain,
And
reasonings, though through Mazes, lead me still
But
to my own conviction: first and last
On
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,
To
Satan only like both crime and doom.
O
Conscience, into what Abyss of fears
And
horrors hast thou driv'n me; out of which
I
find no way, from deep to deeper plung'd!
Thus
Adam to himself lamented loud
Through
the still Night, not now, as ere man fell,
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
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,
With
other echo late I taught your Shades
To
answer, and resound farr other Song.
Whom
thus afflicted when sad Eve bebeld,
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
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,
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
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,
Or
whom he wishes most shall seldom gain
Through
her perversness, 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,
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,
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 alreadie lost, mee then thy self
More
miserable; both have sin'd, but thou
Against
God onely, I against God and thee,
And
to the place of judgment will return,
There
with my cries importune Heaven, that all
The
sentence from thy head remov'd may light
On
me, sole cause to thee of all this woe,
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
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
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
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,
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 some relief of our extremes,
Or
end, though sharp and sad, yet tolerable,
As
in our evils, and of easier choice.
If
care of our descent perplex us most,
Which
must be born to certain woe, devourd
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
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 imbraces sweet,
And
with desire to languish without hope,
Before
the present object languishing
With
like desire, which would be meserie
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,
Let
us seek Death, or he 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 ways 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,
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
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
Some
safer resolution, which methinks
I
have in view, calling to minde with heed
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.
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
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
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
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,
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
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
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.
0 Comments